A List of Things That Suck

As the title implies, here is a list of things that suck, in no particular order of suckiness:

1. Drug advertisements on tv. I could go on an on about this.
2. Spin Doctoring
3. Scripted News Conferences
4. This: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/09/21/AR2005092102260.html


Ok, this list is turning into a rant against Dubya. My god I hate that man. He's a puppet, a marionette dancing on strings being held by giant corporate interests, the Saudi royal family and our own homegrown religious zealots.

5. The Religious Right. They make my blood boil.
http://www.ihatepatrobertson.com/

It's enough to make you think that the end times really are here. The people running this country and the people influencing the people that run this country are morally corrupt, greedy and so concerned about their pet issues that they can't see beyond them. The have a myopic vision of the world. They hate. That's the bottom line. They truly hate those that are different from them. What we need is another revolution, and soon. I complained about people not voting a while back, but I seem to have just realized that you can be elected president even if you don't win the popular vote. I think the first change that needs to be made is the elimination of the electoral college. What an antiquated system that is! It was originally set up because states like Wyoming and Rhode Island, who comparitively don't have any people in them, needed to have an equal voice. And most of the time they couldn't get to polling places...because there were maybe one or two. Well you know what? With the current dissemination of information, and how easily available it is, there is no longer a reason for the electoral college to exist. Without it, Dubya wouldn't be president. Twice.

You know, if I had any idea how to start a revolution, I'd do it. I can't take this anymore.


M. PotPie

Hi there

I'm really not happy with that last post. Kind of sappy, really, like something that should have been written by Seals & Kroft or England Dan & John Ford Coley...or someones equally as gay, like Kenny Loggins.

Rhymes for Never Spoken Love

I can't love you from the shadows, I can't hide the way I feel.
When I'm with you, isn't it obvious? Isnt' it clear?
Too scared to tell you, too scared to not, I waited too long,
Now you're wearing a ring and all I have left is this song.

For you I'd move mountains, walk on fire, I'd do whatever it took,
You mean that much to me but won't give me a second look.
How can I feel so much when to you I'm barely here?
You fill my sky and fill my thoughts, my seas are calm when you are near.

But it doesn't matter, 'cause you're gone.
It doesn't matter, 'cause your'e gone.
I cry all day, drowning, drinking, trying to ease my pain.
Trying to erase the memories and dreams, but failing, again and again.

If only once you would have noticed, maybe said my name
I would have floated right over to you, living in a dream.
You never even got a taste of all I have to give,
I swear that if you had I'd still have the will to live.

But it doesn't matter, 'cause you're gone.
It doesn't matter, 'cause your'e gone.
I cry all day, drowning, drinking, trying to ease my pain.
Trying to erase the memories and dreams, but failing, again and again.

Last Will & Testament.

So I'm going to North Carolina next week on vacation. I thought I'd draw up a will for the occasion in case anything goes horribly awry, which things are wont to do in the South.


Last Will and Testament

If I am to pass into the ether during my sojourn to The Old North State, I wish the following rites to be observed:

1. My headstone shall read: Damn it! I knew she was up to something!

2. My gravesite shall be decorated with the Official State Fruit, The Scuppernong Grape. And there shall be several statues of the Official State Mammal, the Grey Squirrel. The headstone shall be made of the Official State Rock: Granite.

3. At my wake, no one shall drink the Official State Beverage, which is Milk. Rather they shall drink Sapphire & Tonic, all the while singing the Official State Song, The Old North State, while a dozen Official State Dogs, Plott Hounds, howl along.

Failure to observe these rites will result in my returning from the dead to haunt any transgressors. There will also be brain-eating as I'll be a zombie. A sexy, sexy zombie with very good fashion sense and sharp teeth. I may do the dance from the Thriller video, too.

Cest la Vie

"Please, tell me it isn't true!"

The doctor just stares at the floor, absently fingering his stethoscope. I get angry.

"Hey! Hello?!" I wave my swollen, infected hand in his face and he recoils in horror.

"Shit, get that infected sack of pus away from me! Yuk!" This is clearly no way for a doctor to speak to his patient and I tell him so. He apologizes. "Oh, yeah, bedside manner, right. Um..sorry." I assume he's new.

By the way, I'm at the doctor because I woke up with a swollen, infected hand. It's red and greenish yellow, the veins standing out and pulsating. With each pulse comes agony. I get the impression that if I hit it too hard on something it'll explode like a fleshy, liquid-filled grenade. I have no idea how it got like this...ok, maybe one idea: the hooker. I swear I felt something bite me when I had my hand up her...um...her area of expertise, shall we say?

Hold on, the doctor is gonna say something....

"Yes, so anyway, I'm sorry, but the hand has to go."

"Well what about antibiotics? Or maybe trying to drain it?" I ask hopefully.

"Yeah, right! I mean, look at that thing! No no, it's gone. Get used to people calling you 'lefty'."

What a dick!

"Dude, you're a dick! What kind of doctor are you?"

"A free one. I can't cut it off here at the clinic, we'll have to schedule an appointment for you at the hospital. I'll be right back." He walks out of the room whistling a happy tune. Asshole. I stare at my hand, the pulsating pus sack, and wonder how I'll get along without it. It's my right hand, the hand I do everything with. Yes, everything, now get your mind out of the gutter. On second thought, leave it there, 'cause I'm headed back to the gutter to find that whore and the thing that bit me.

To be continued....

I've been giving some thought to capital punishment lately. You know, the death penalty. Not much of a deterrent, is it? These murdering, raping bastards spend years on death row filing appeal after appeal, all the while sucking on the teat of the taxpayer. Well I, for one, am fed up with it. So I've come up with a solution, which I'll share with you now.

If you've been convicted of a violent crime, convicted without any shadow of doubt by a jury of your peers, you now have two choices. You can either:

A) Be buried alive, or

B) Be infected with AIDS, West Nile, SARS, Asian Bird Flu, Ebola or some other heinous disease that has no cure (can you give somebody cancer?) and become a human guinea pig. If, by some miracle, you are the person that is given a cure that works...congratulations, you've paid your debt to society, you may go free. Otherwise you die a horrible death, which you deserve.

I can't find any real flaw with this system. By commiting a violent crime, by murdering, raping, kidnapping...you've given up your rights as a human being. I don't care how bad your childhood was or how awful the place you grew up in was, 99.99% of people know the difference between right and wrong.

The other .01% go into politics.

Hey-O!

Anyway that's the idea. Buried alive or human guinea pig.


M. PotPie

More Lame Haikus

It burns when I pee
Sometimes there's a little blood
So...wanna do it?

New Orleans is gone
The Twin Towers are gone too
Hey! Football season!

I sit bored at work
Not doing my job, damn it!
When will this day end?

I have a new game
How much water can I drink?
It cleans my kidneys.

So uninspired
I resort to these haikus
I feel so ashamed.

Saturday in a shithole.

Haikus for a Saturday at work:

Working Saturday,
Day old coffee and donuts,
A needle in the groin.

Driving here today,
Gas price higher than my wage,
No traffic, at least.

No one is around
I masturbate at my desk
A gift for the maid.

My phone is ringing!
Excited to pick it up...
Telemarketer.

Quiet in my cube
I sit quite still, no moving
A living statue.

This sucks big time ass
Being here today is worse
Than normally being here.

Mucus

Where does all the mucus come from? So much has run from my nose today that I should be dehydrated. My sinuses have been converted into a mucus factory whose efficiency is unparalleled in the world.

Seriously, what the fuck? This sucks ass!

I've often wondered just how much snot I've produced in my life. Would it fill a large fish tank? Or perhaps a room? These are questions that need answering.


M. PotPie

Ok, that's it.

Ok, call me reactionary, call me racist, call me xenophobic, call me what you will, but it’s time to close the borders. The world is a fucking cesspool and it’s leaking into our collective foundation. The country is ready to collapse, implode….

Don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty wrong with the people that are already here (see my last post) but the sooner we close the borders and let the rest of the world handle itself for awhile (which, by the way, it’s perfectly capable of doing) the sooner we can get our act together and turn this country into what it has the capability of being: The land of the free.

Right now we are not free. We believe that we have free will, that we make our own decisions, that we’re each unique individuals marching to our own drum. Nothing could be further from the truth. We’re bombarded, saturated with sounds and images telling us that ‘something is wrong with you’ and this or that product or pill can fix it for you. Our culture has adopted the same flawed philosophy that Western medicine was founded on: treat the symptom, not the underlying cause. Tired of being fat? Take a pill and burn off the pounds! Tired of being ugly? Get plastic surgery, look like the stars! Hey! How about not eating fast food every day and taking a walk? And really, who gives a shit about what other people think of your looks? Why should you really care? Why obsess about something you have no control over? It’s time to take control of your own life and stop criticizing other people. It’s time to look in the mirror and like what you see and not have the desire to change it.

I’m sure by now, if anyone is reading this, that some would say “get off your high horse, asshole!” and perhaps justifiably so. But please understand that I don’t consider myself above my own critique of our population. I’m certainly guilty of most of what I’m complaining about. Ok, disclaimer over, back to the bitching.

Our country will never be a perfect paradise, nor should it be. But it’s certainly capable of being a hell of a lot better than it is. Does any other nation in the world have the same dichotomy of rich and poor on the same scale? I don’t’ think so. Why do we have homeless and hungry people? Why do we have any poor people at all? Certainly, some of these folks have chosen to live this way and some are mentally unbalanced and can’t help themselves. But I really believe that most of the problem lies with the fact that from the time we’re born were led to believe that the world owes something because we’re special…the rules don’t apply to us and everything will be handed to us on a silver platter. I’d like to believe that a majority of us know by now that this is not, in fact, the case…but we don’t. You still see people on TV screaming “Why didn’t the government help us?” and “What is the government going to do?” People, listen: The government is not your mommy and daddy. They aren’t gonna come rescue you from the monsters in your closet. For the most part they’re from rich, privileged families and don’t give a shit about you at all. And honestly they might not even recognize that there’s a problem.

Oh, and by the way, did you vote? Have you ever voted? If not, then shut up. If you’re not willing to take part in the democratic process and initiate change instead of wishing for it, then fuck off. If you’re willing to let other people make your decisions for you then you deserve everything you get. If you want things to change then speak up, take some action, get involved and vote. Get off your fat ass and do something about it, don’t stand around the water cooler at work, complain for five minutes and then go back to your desk after saying “Oh well, what are you gonna do?”. Do something.

People, the country isn’t going to change itself. It’s up to us.


M. PotPie

I've had enough. Enough of the liberals, enough of the conservatives (especially the bible-thumping religion whores) and enough of the collective 'media'. I've had my fill of people with no common sense, people who refuse to accept responsiblity for their own actions and people who insist on throwing their alternative lifestyle in my face. I'm through with criminals and amoral pshycopaths running amok.

I'm afraid you'll all have to leave the country and go somewhere else. Maybe Canada, maybe Utah....or maybe the people in this country who are rational, thoughtful and can accept the consequences of their actions should just put you all in a bag and drown you like so many kittens. You have no more value for society. We've outgrown you and no longer wish to deal with the riff-raff. So please take this opportunity to leave, and don't forget to take your diseased thought process, profit-driven religion, advertising, marketing, me-first mentality, unwarranted violence, guilt complex, twelve step programs, shopping channels, intolerance and the idea that the world owes you something with you.

Oh, and don't let the door hit you in the ass.


M. PotPie

I know it has been some time since my last blog, children, but dry your eyes and quiet your cries; I have returned. The tale of my absence is a strange one, full of mystery and intrigue, danger and excitement, and I will relay as many details as I can in the short time I have.I was kidnapped.Please! Hold your tongues! There will be time for questions later, perhaps, but now is the time for listening.Yes, I was kidnapped. I was abducted by a savage brunette who seemed bent on my moral destruction. I was subjected to such acts of depravity...I shudder to think of them now (though truth be told they excite me as well). As you know I went on vacation. Where is not important; I go where I please and vacation in private. As it was I was wandering the city, admiring the sights and enjoying the people when I first saw her. She was sitting by a fountain feeding the pigeons. At least that's what I thought she was doing. This rather striking brunette, dressed entirely in scarlet, was luring pigeons to her with bits of bread and popcorn, cooing to them and speaking sweetly. Her voice was melodious and very pleasant to the ear, provided you didn't understand what she was saying, which I didn't. I know not what language she was speaking, but underneath the sugary encouragement she gave to the birds was something else...an undercurrent of violence. Indeed, when one of the poor pigeons wandered too close her hand shot out like a viper and the unfortunate bird disappeared, shoved into a cardboard box sitting next to her shapely legs. Friends, I have no idea how many birds were in that box, but I can tell you that none made it out alive.I watched this activity for some time, how long I'm not sure, but long enough for her to take notice and look in my direction. I tried to quickly avert my gaze, but surely she knew I was staring, so I looked up...and beheld an angelic smile framed by a mass of brunette hair, wavy and wild. She held my gaze...or I held hers...for what was certainly only a few moments but felt like ages. Still smiling sweetly (savagely) she picked up the box of pigeons and set it in the fountain. The box must have been weighed down for it did not rise. I started forward and made to protest but she stopped me with a glance (glare) and held a single finger to her lips. I was held fast as if paralyzed. Was this witchcraft? My mind was reeling, my heart crying out to the birds that were trapped in the box under the cold water of the fountain, but still I could make no move. I'd like to tell you I saved the birds...or even made a courageous effort, but I cannot lie to you, my friends. I'd like to tell you that I alerted the authorities, or was at least able to cry out and draw attention to her actions, which no one else in the park seemed to notice or care about, but that too would be a lie. No. I stood there helpless and impotent as the poor, innocent creatures drowned.

(To be continued)


M. PotPie

All Kidding Aside

Alright, all kidding aside, this situation in New Orleans is horrific. However, what's more horrific is the complete lack of response and urgency on the part of Washington. I watched Dubya's comments yesterday from the oval office as he was flanked by Bush Sr. and William Jefferson Clinton. A few things struck me as odd. First, Dubya's comments focused on high gas prices, pipeline capacities and refinery updates. He barely spoke about the conditions in the city, people surrounded by garbage and feces, dying in the street with nowhere to go. He never touched on the fact that the city of New Orleans is gone. Done. The water that has washed in there is acidic, dirty and is washing away the foundations of close to ninety percent of the builidings. Roughly nine tenths of the city will have to be knocked down. There will be nothing left. No homes, no stores, no government buildings..nothing. It will probably take ten years to rebuild and it will never, ever be the same. Secondly, as the three "luminaries" were walking off camera, they were laughing. I know I didn't imagine it, because I watched it twice. I believe that Clinton was asking Bush Sr. if he wanted to make a comment, Sr. said something I couldn't understand and the two walked off laughing. Now I understand how laughter can sometimes be an involuntary response in the face of an event that shoudln't result in laughter, but come on! Those three have been if front of cameras so often they should at least be able wait until the cameras are off to laugh. Who knows, maybe Bush Sr. said something really funny, and we all know that Bill has a sense of humor. But if I were a citizen of Louisiana, or if I had close relatives living there, I would be pissed off! What the hell are you laughing about? People are dying in the streets of an American city! And not just any city, but New Orleans, one of the best cities on Earth...at least one of my favorites that I've visited.

I get the feeling that this catastrophe is going to change the country far more than 9/11 did. We can't attack the weather to ease our feelings of aggression and feed our desire for revenge.

I sit here sick to my stomach, beating myself up for worrying about gas prices, frustrated by my complete lack of ability to do anything but send money, of which I have none. If I thought it would do any good I'd pray for them. But it would seem that god has abandoned New Orleans and all the people in it.


M. PotPie

Jihad Envy

I totally have Jihad-envy. So far only one person has offered to join my Jihad, and he recently drew a picture of himself as a douche bag. How is it that a guy like Osama can get thousands to lay down their lives for him, but I can't get ten people to fight the phone company? Maybe it's because he's taller than me and has a cool beard...and millions of dollars. Well at least my kindneys work, shitbag!

I'm finding that organizing a Jihad isn't as easy as I originally thought. First of all, I don't know any Muslims...all the people I hang out with eat of the pig, which I understand is forbidden by Allah. Second, I used to be Jewish, so maybe I'm not pronouncing Jihad properly. I probably use too much phlegm, so maybe terrorists, or those who might be coerced into wearing explosive shirts, don't understand me. After that it's anyone's guess.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not giving up on my Jihad just yet. Perhaps it's time to recruit from the displaced Voodooists currently causing so much mayhem in New Orleans. If there's two things the phone company doesn't understand, it's Voodoo and logic, so maybe a precise explanation of what their fucking problem is written in chicken blood will help. It sure can't hurt!

VOODOOISTS OF NEW ORLEANS! (and anyone else that feels like it) IT'S TIME TO RECLAIM YOUR RIGHTFUL PLACE IN THE MAINSTREAM! JOIN MY FIGHT AGAINST THE POWERCOM BASTARDS! BRING YOUR ZOMBIES AND CHICKENS! TOGETHER WE CAN ACCOMPLISH WHAT SEPARATELY WE CANNOT! AFTER THAT, YOU MAY GO HOME. THANK YOU.


M. PotPie