My Favorite Headline Today

It’s from Croatia’s Vecernji List

Kraj sage o desnoj dojci Janet Jackson?

Translation:

Could The Saga of Janet Jackson’s Right Breast Be Over?

Nipplegate? Over? Never!

Janet's Moment in the Sun

Vietnam - The War That Keeps Giving

Turns out Fannie Mae was a government agency for 30 years, until it finally went private in 1968. Why?

The main reason for the change was surprisingly mundane: accounting. At the time, Lyndon Johnson was concerned about the effect of the Vietnam War on the federal budget. Making Fannie Mae private moved its liabilities off the government’s books, even if, as the recent crisis made clear, the U.S. was still responsible for those debts.

Ahh, Communism. It has been unwittingly destroying us since 1991.

Emailing Barack (Raj)

Talk of the Town profiles a dude called Guru Raj who chose “barackobama” as his Gmail username back in 2004 - before everyone used Gmail to send each other messages about Barack Obama.

“I just thought it would be kind of funny to create an e-mail address based on a random senator whose name no one could spell.”

Hilarity ensues.

I’m a bit suspect that Raj’s reasoning could be so simple. It requires so much naivete as to be a moron. Then again, I’ve met humans, so yeah… he’s probably telling the truth.

Indecision v2.0

Yes, I’m back. Maybe one day we can catch up. But right now I’m really busy. Once again, I’m leaving my weekly subject to you. Now give me something to write about dammit!

Looking for Bon Jovi Naked? Top Google Searches

Here are my favorite search engine terms that brought you here:

bon jovi naked
why facebook is pleasure and fun
ohio armpit of america
death chicken
pleasure on bottom of ocean
power smoking
smoke cat shit
little girls fuck

Wait? Little girls fuck? What sort of depraved whackos are out there?

Hey, here’s an idea! Whoever searched for “little girls fuck” should turn themselves into the cops immediately and let the lonely boys over in cell block D take care of him.

This blog isn’t dead

I’ve pounded my head on a desk the past month, trying to figure out what exactly the new shape and texture of this blog would be.

I’m done with politics. The clusterfuck over in Washington DC cannot be quantified or explained by my silly words, though believe when I say I’m watching it closely.

But I scrolled down the site and noticed I did a lot of traveling. This lead to the conclusion that I see a lot of shit, and need to tell you about it. So “the shit I’ve seen, the places I’ve been.” Pretty broad topic, eh? Here goes nothing. Attempt one, coming soon.

Puerto Rico and Promises I Can Keep

Nonsense, tom foolery and debauchery loom over next week like menacing black clouds. I’m going to Puerto Rico, kids! All pretense of self control, class and dignity will die on the flight out of this throbbing city, and I’ll land in San Juan with a new sense of the irresponsibility.

Jet skis, beaches and nice beats. That’s all I’m expecting. Anything more and I’ll be delighted. What do I plan on doing? A little bit of this.

And a little bit of that.

Someone save us all from me. I’ll try to blog while I’m there, but if not: Enjoy your spring breaks.

You Googled It

My favorite new search engine terms used to find this blog:

pedophilia sight
grouch jokes
empire penguin and people
dancing chicken
kid smoking
hockey isn’t a sport [note: glad to see someone agrees with me]
“”symptoms”"cramping”"bloody stool”"
no farting allowed
jesus chicken eggs

Happy searching. I hope you all come back for some more grouchy pedophiles laughing at empire penguins, while jesus chickens dance with their eggs around a kid smoking cigarettes and arguing that hockey isn’t a sport because it doesn’t induce symptoms like cramping, bloody stool, and bloating.

King Tut, Philly, Barry and Rocky - defiled

I’ll ignore the U.S. Attorney clusterfuck, the surge-scalation in Iraq, and accommodations at Walter Reed. I’ve got bigger fish to fry. Namely Benjamin Franklin. Or at least the Institute that bears his name in Philadelphia. They have induced a public hard-on for their exhibit “King Tut and the Golden Age of the Pharaohs.” Judging by the title, you’d assume some semblance of King Tut was there. You know, the mummy? Instead, I was treated to over 100 artifacts ranging from funerary statues, statues, urns, jewelry, statues, model boats, statues and all manner of innate objects of royal decadence. I have no desire to see King Tut’s toys for the afterlife. I want to see his raisin-dry corpse stinking up a dark room in the back of the museum. I want to smell the curse.

And they didn’t allow photography of any manner. So here’s a picture of a statuette in the gift shop.

In other news views, Philly is a timid city too wrapped up in its own history to progress to some manner of economic prominence. It’s too late, of course, for it to catch up to NYC or LA. The vitality just isn’t there. And it’s typical of most colonial cities - stuck in a time warp of founding fathers and national history. Statues line the streets, and I had a particularly fun time abusing them.

This is Barry. I know nothing about him except that he points. That’s rude. So I point back.

Boxing historians can tell you Joe Louis’ hometown is Philadelphia. They can also tell you he’s probably the second greatest boxer of all time. So naturally, the city would honor him with a statue, right? Actually, it’s Rocky. So my nefarious friends and I groped him, negating any semblance of masculinity he may have.

This is a sandwich. Cheese steak. Delicious.

Ultimately, we got bored and decided to race up the steps from that stupid movie about the boxer.

Our Future

This is a member of my demographic.

We’re all screwed.