A break from self-absorbed navel-gazing which is just as well since I cannot hear out of all of my ears anyway so we go to the tape and find

Last night, Drudge had a headline on his page reading:

"PG-13 MOVIE: 'F**K, S**T, NI**ER, A**HOLE'... "

I wondered what movie would have his panties all twisted in a bunch. Is someone finally gonna fuck a pie again? Well, this morning that headline is linked and the movie is...

Gunner Palace.

A documentary about soldiers fighting in Iraq. Sad sad sad.

I'm starting to feel sorry for this Jeff Gannon character. He's in way over his head -- a head which will soon have an extra hole in it, I can just tell. And the Empire State Building is just three mad chords stretched out in a dirge.

Miss America ain’t never tellin’ anyone how she feels ever never ever again. They can’t take it, the whitetickfat she lays out for them like monuments in a row.

"I used to think it was the world," she moans. "But now it’s just me. And I don’t even know what I look like! My eyes are just holes in a face!"

She’d rather die tomorrow than spend another million years beholden to chaos. So she sells off all of her investments and asks the millionaire to call her "Sweetheart" when he slaps her across the face. Too bad he can't get an erection.

They are the When We Were

Switch on the TV
and meet the Abortion Generation.
They have food and armies
and disease.
Make nice. They're the ones
who'll feed us when we're blind.

There are worms and birds and butterflies and big expensive spaceships punching through the purple sky. It’s all I hear on the internet.

It was a relief to find out that nobody knew nothing nowhere. It was a relief to have time speed it all up, so that we could recognize that their great ballets were really just flagellations. They were less like rocks and more like dust. It allowed the odd hope. It made us as good as gods. but it’s tiresome now. Come on, superman. Everybody has bad days. Everybody's beating themselves to shit. You can tell them you did it for the pussy.

Now mike greenwell wants the mvp trophy that is rightfully his; and happy birthday dear paris hilton: daddy loves you even though he was never really there; and perhaps it’s time to fish in a smaller pond.

At least three of us sat in this guy’s parent’s basement in the late eighties and he was called something like “snoop dogg” with the same number of syllables and some of those letters and vowel and consonant sounds and I was almost all small bones and sort of ashamed that I could barely run or throw a punch and didn’t want to throw rocks at dogs though “snoop dogg” could and and wanted and probably had to do those things so he took this eyedropper as at least three of us sat crosslegged with wood panel on the wall in the eighties and filled it with something he called steroids and then let something he called steroids out under his tongue and with what seemed like more trepidation than the others but perhaps wasn’t I followed, so the moral of of the story is maybe I took steroids but I never fucked a madonna or threw rocks at dogs and I still don’t know if I can really punch though I’ve practiced on walls and file cabinets in the office. I am still alive, so I must be indestructible.

We now return to "Coke Brothel" brought to you by Coca-Cola

we find notes all the time. and they say things, like

Boy, was it a wild, wild wednesday. Mostly because I couldn’t sleep tuesday. Garbage trucks kept the cuckoo bird up all hours of the night.

The trucks sounded like "michael jackson didn't do nothin'" and it made the cuckoo bird sing,

“I am a Landfill!
I am a Landfill!
La la la! Lay lay lay!
I send Bad Things to their Death!”

till all our ears bled.

Anyway, and by the by, I just wanted to tell you that it’s gonna rain -- yeah it’s gonna rain, they say -- for 40 days and 40 nights.

If you don’t believe me, turn on the TV; someone’s kid will tell you that, “It is now our solemn duty to unmoor all our furniture and unhinge all the doors.

“And this just in: Lose the lead shoes.” I’ve already canceled a number of appointments and reservations.

Nonsense Bored Me After 5 Minutes

So we go back to the drawing board. Expect something genuinely worthwhile here before too long. There's no need for Dodgy Goodtimes to be afraid of Dodgy Goodtimes, is there? We'll see. History is on the way.

Who Is the Most Alone?

"Randall" asks in the comments to the previous post,

What is up with trailer parks? I mean really! If they aren't out back fixin' on their autoMOBILES they are in the back laying out on the deck stark naked giving their poodle the once-over with the wrong side of a hair brush. What can we do about this plague of mobile home dwellers?

"Randall" makes many fine points, and this is something I have been thinking about for some time. As anyone who reads this blog knows, I am a tireless advocate for mass sterilization. I march for it, I vote for it, I write haikus about it.

People of the Earth:
Please tear out the uterus
of the nearest ho.

The Anti-Donkey Defamation League will be performing a benefit to raise money for mass sterilization and youth hockey this weekend at Castle Donnington, site of Black Sabbath's seminal 1978 show. Please fly anyone you know who fits "Randall"'s description to said concert and will we ask them, once and for all, "Do you have a strategy for bringing the troops home from Iraq? Why the fuck not???!!!"

If Your Restaurant Advertised "Free Dog Shit," People Would Beg You for It

and then complain when you ran out.

"But you said you had free dog shit. Therefore, I am entitled to it."

The Kleptones are offering a new mix here.

I can’t take it anymore. Again.

I didn't watch the speech last night. I have things to do.

But I will say that America is lost, and she’s going to drag everyone down with her.

Those douchebags wearing purple at that bullshit session (whether it was on their fingers, on their ties, or simply their assholes turned inside-out and wrapped over their heads) remind me of those sportspricks who behave as though their team’s success has something to do with them. Stop congratulating yourself. Mankind is worse off for knowing every single person in that room. Plus, boys, drawing attention to your index finger just makes your cock look even smaller, if that’s possible.



The only greater threat to Life As We Know It than today's Republicans are today's Democrats. Embarrassing, pathetic. They’re all in this together. I’m more and more convinced of that every day.

Sexxxy!

I just wanted to congratulate Nathan on being one of the 42 people banned from attending King Monkey's appearance in Fargo, North Dakota, today. You'll find more on this at Talking Points Memo.

Nate, now you'll always be known as "The Moorhead man [who] wrote a letter to The Forum last spring calling the Bush administration's reasons to go to war 'disingenuous at best, if not outright lies." Could be a lot worse.

Also, is the "Sarah Miller" on the list someone I know as well? (Update: It is!)