Saturday, November 20, 2004

... And one more goddamnit

Hey, guys: if you're having trouble getting your woman off, then just shove some electrodes in her back and start punching buttons!

Of course, something like this wouldn't actually be a boon to men, it'd be a replacement. Especially for weak, inexperienced, generally ineffective men like me. Can I at least watch?

Okay, jokes aside, I get that this is designed for extreme cases of women with orgasmic dysfunction, which is a nice euphemism for "man doesn't know what the fuck he's doing" or "ice queen." Alright now, relax, ladies. I don't know much, but I do know that you're complicated, so just leave me alone (much like you've been doing for, oh, the majority of 25 years).

Hell, I could go on all night making jokes about this, but just one more. I also want to make a device of this nature just so that I can name it the Orgasmarator. Okay, seriously, that's all for now.

Okay, one more

I always hate leaving for the day (or just for a short period, as is often the case) on a child sex offense joke, because for some reason I always feel as if leaving one of those posts at the very top is what's going to get me in trouble. Because, you know, the FBI won't read two posts to help in establishing the "pattern of behavior" that they're after.

Anyway, I've complained about those lame-ass personal ads with lame-ass quotes from lame-ass people that appear on web pages, but here's one I just came across that I found mildly amusing:

Last great book I read: "Catholic Digest, it is the only thing in my mom's bathroom."

Yeah, that's pretty much where Catholic Digest belongs -- in with all the rest of the shit.


Yahoo search:

worthless fucking little girl cocksuckers

That isn't very nice -- she isn't worthless. I mean, she is sucking cock, after all. God damn it, hands down I have got to show up in the worst engine searches. Again, just a reflection of the quality of my writing and my command of the filthiest parts of the language. Man, nobody sees the things that I see (as a result of Googlers in addition to my own illnesses).

Okay, I got in a joke about child molestation thanks to some other pedophile on Yahoo, so I think I can shut it down for now.

You've come a long way, baby

Several years ago, KMFDM released their album Adios, and a sticker on the plastic wrapper billed it as "The historic farewell album." Yes, the historic farewell album, which was neither. Not historic since, well, it's just KMFDM. I like 'em and all, but you know, not that important. And of course it wasn't a farewell because shortly thereafter they broke up, reformed, reversed their name, and sucked. The new project, MDFMK, was pretty much the same minus En Esch and Günter Schulz (which I guess is damn near everyone big) and not as good as KMFDM. They had that song "Rabble Rouser" and... That's pretty much it. After that they re-reversed their name back to KMFDM, they got the old band back together, and put out WWIII, to which all I could say was "That's not enough!" Even if it wasn't stellar, I do have to give mad props for any album with a song about George W. Bush that's simply entitled "Moron."

Anyway, I posted a link awhile back about Norman Cook, AKA FatBoy Slim. Thanks to a reminder from ETP, I went out looking for the new album, Palookaville. A sticker on its plastic wrapper billed it as "The triumphant return of FatBoy Slim!" So, was the sticker once again lying, or was there some merit to its claims?

I was pleasantly surprised to find that the album is pretty good. Not quite "triumphant," though. I would consider it a triumph if it surpassed You've Come a Long Way, Baby or Better Living Through Chemistry, which it does not. But it most certainly surpasses Halfway Between the Gutter and the Stars, which while it had some definitely cool stuff and the cool cover with the sun shining through that guy's crotch, also had a bunch of stuff that was just plain shit, something I'm not used to with Norman.

Most of Palookaville is pretty good, at least as far as my tastes go. I can't stand track eight, which goes to show you that Norman just won't ever be what he once was, but otherwise I really like the album. Tracks 1-7 especially, with everything after eight being decent as well.

The album comes off as being somewhat original and not too horribly derivative. Of course, that's just how it is with techno/electronica/dance (technonicance from here on out to save me from having to type all those slashes and other shit) -- pretty much everything is derivative of prior work. In fact, I'm planning on releasing a techno album some day entitled dy/dx just to show that I know how it works in the world of technonicance. I dunno, I'm not really very savvy when it comes to music, but it at least had a somewhat different feel than the older stuff while not straying too far from roots. I could be wrong, but it was definitely less derivative than, say, Moby's 18, which could have been entitled Play 2: Not as Good.

There is plenty of the old technonicance standby of having a bunch of annoyingly repetitive shit that is somehow still very catchy and, as a result, not that annoying. Kinda like reggae, only good.

I like tracks six and seven the best on Palookaville. I'm guessing with my limited lyrical insight that those are the tracks that stemmed from FatBoy's marital troubles. Nothing personal against FatBoy, but if your marriage going into the shitter and then being resurrected brings about stuff like those two tracks, then you and your wife need to have a lot more strife between the two of you.

So yeah, I've gotta say that I feel good about FatBoy once again. Granted, it's never going to be good again, but that's to be expected. I don't think any artist can stay at their peak for all that long, with the exception of Fluke who lives on peak (probably aided by the fact that so many of the sounds in new stuff are straight out of the old stuff, and it somehow stays fresh). But that's okay, because at least I have some new technonicance to wear out before I inevitably go back to playing Fluke non-stop.

Also, this post marks the first time in I don't know how fucking long where I've hit double digits in my post count for the day. Not like that means anything, but I know that I too am well past my prime already, and it's nice to re-visit the good ol' days of quantity over quality. As opposed to modern times, where you get neither quality nor quantity.
You know, I've been out here doing all this posting today, and I haven't done any complaining about how stupid I think you are if you believe in Jesus. Hey, I hold some dumb ideas myself, but at least I don't believe in some invisible man in the sky and his son, who died for all our sins.

Anyway, that was just a nice preface to this "In Pictures" feature from the BBC on an art exposition entitled "100 Artists See God." From the samples, a lot of it looks pretty pretentious, I can' see how some of it has anything to do with God (but of course I wouldn't, I'm not an "artist"), we know for a fact that Leonard Nimoy just plain likes boobs, and #6 -- to me, at least -- is pretty neat.

"... And he has a son. What is this, Bonanza?"
- Bill Maher on God and Jesus
Here's one thing I wanted to post earlier in the week but couldn't because Blogger was being a dooshebag. Yet another piece of evidence in support of why (nearly) everyone should be killed.
Oh yeah, here's one more thing I've been meaning to comment on for the past couple of weeks but have been too busy or to apathetic to get around to. I still like GYWO and all, but, umm, no.

We're smarter than those motherfuckers.

Clearly we're not, otherwise we wouldn't be here.

We can learn more quickly than those motherfuckers.

Clearly we can't, because we had four goddamn years to get clued in and they still beat us to the finish line.

We can be more ruthless than those motherfuckers.

We don't have a Karl Rove.

We can be some six-million-dollar motherfuckers ourselves.

Aren't we supposed to be the party of poor motherfuckers? Until ETP, BOETP and I get our third way going, which I'm tentatively calling Neo-Liberalism, we're not going to be Lee Majors.

... Cut some stuff that I can get on board with...

There's an election in two years.
There's nothing we can't do.

Yeah, well, this is what we started telling ourselves in 2000, and look what it got us. It's basically been nothing but a bunch of this rah-rah, second place isn't so bad, we'll get 'em next time, total denial bullshit since November 2nd. Or maybe it hasn't, or I just haven't been looking in the right places. Either way, this is not what we need to be doing. We need to get pissed, and we need to act. And for fuck's sake, finally act in ways that will actually do something, instead of just perpetuating the empty rhetoric.
That's okay, though, because it's the Democrats who are the obstructionists with no interest in protecting us.

I like how Republican excuses are predicated on the old standby, "protecting the troops." I can understand some merit in the argument for not switching things up, but you know what? I'm just going to come out and say what I've been wanting to say for awhile but have been too big of a pussy to say: fuck the troops. Fuck 'em.

After the election, ETP noted that a good number of them probably voted for Team Bush. You know, the group of people who bullshitted and lied to start a war that's killed, you know, maybe one or two troops. Oh, that, or, more than a thousand. And of course, that doesn't cover the casualties, the forgotten injured who didn't die but will have to live with things like nerve damage and missing limbs and just plain being fucked up thanks to the war. But you know what? Fuck 'em all the same. If that's who they want in office, then they deserve it. Of course, that says nothing for the undoubted tens of troops who didn't vote for Bush, but work with me. I'm simplifying, and that makes it, uh, simpler.

So yeah, screw this bullshit notion that you did it for the troops. Maybe if you guys in Congress really, really cared about those precious troops, you would have done something to keep them out of harm's way in the first place. So fuck Dennis Hastert, fuck the rest of Congress, fuck the military, and fuck everyone, come to think of it.
Yeah, it sucks. Also, it looks as if Project 3-Series is a success and I buy a gun (which I may as well do), I'm automatically Republican, so I had better get used to liking all this stupid bullshit real soon now.
After about a hundred more years without any changes, I finally posted some updates to the sailor schoolgirl site. Yup.

Just as a quick Japanese porn history lesson, that second model, Ai Nagase (or Nagase Ai, if you prefer to go with the traditional name order I've got going on the site), is a pretty big porn star (and legal, I will add, to put some of you at ease, since this is Japan we're talking about). Big enough that most of the pictures I have of her aren't postable if I want to keep with the "clean & wholesome yet still dirty" motif I've got going (as opposed to just all-out dirty, even though I think that staying away from full-blown nudity is insidiously dirtier). She's rather popular, from what I understand, or at least popular enough that they make this adult product based on her. She's also 145 centimeters tall, which is about 4'9" for those of you keeping track at home. That's just about the neatest thing ever.
You know, it just never really occurred to me that maybe the whole Monday Night Football thing really might be about race. I feel kinda like the South Park boys in that episode about the South Park flag, which depicted a bunch of white people hanging a black person. Throughout the episode, they boys don't see what the big deal is about the flag, and people like Chef are all pissed off at them. But then it's realized that the boys don't see the problem not because they're racist, but because they aren't racist. They were colorblind and couldn't even bring race into the equation. Anyway, I'm probably not explaining it very well, but for those who saw the episode you'll know what the fuck I'm babbling about.

So yeah, in addition to the fact that it just never occurred to me to make it a race issue since that's just not how I think, I'm also pretty stupid. But if that's really what it's about, it makes sense. And what I said before still stands -- everyone else is a fucking moron. I may not be clued in, but at least I'm not bent out of shape over what should be a non-issue. Whatever the hell the issue (or issues) might be.
So let him fight. Fuck him. 'Cause I'm real sure all of England would go up in flames if something happened to anyone in that stupid royal family. Why anyone on either side of the Atlantic gives a shit about them is beyond me.
If it wasn't for the fact that he's being replaced with probably an even more ignorant dumbass, I would be able to take a lot of pleasure in Tom Daschle's defeat and departure from the Senate, because Daschle is a limp-dicked retard. You know, a Democrat.

Friday, November 19, 2004

I don't know where the hell comments went. I thought it'd be some transient phenomena and they'd show back up after a not too long, but no such luck. Not that most people care, but I guess they'll return whenever it just fixes itself or I get in touch with HaloScan to have it resolved.

Thursday, November 18, 2004

Here is a blog that is getting linked solely because of its title.

Europe, you can continue laughing now

This shit has gotten way out of hand. Terrell Owens (pronounce it Tuh-rell, because that pisses him off) is even apologizing over this non-issue? Has anyone else been following this saga? I wish I hadn't, but it's been ALL OVER all goddamn week. Look, I know this country is all uptight and shit, but this is insane. No, I did not see the promo, because I can't get motivated to watch my home team play, nonetheless any other teams on Monday night. Still, I cannot see how it was in any way offensive. The only thing that might offend me is Nicollette Sheridan. I don't know what she's looking like these days, but isn't she like 135 years old now?

Michael Powell is "disappointed" in the promo. ABC wishes it "hadn't aired." Fuck all of you pieces of shit. Michael Powell is officially on the list of people who we're going to throw a party over when they die. Fuck you and your puritanistic bullshit, fuck your need to turn this country even lamer than it already is. And fuck ABC for pussing out and not sticking to their guns. What, you guys are backing down because some tight-assed white Christians from middle America made a phone call to fill the voids in their empty lives? Fuck you, all of you, you goddamn pieces of shit.

I hadn't heard Tony Dungy's take on things, that it was "racially offensive." Racially offensive? How? Does Tony not like us mixing races or something? The only people I know who would find this shit offensive are insecure white guys who are all pissed off and jealous because they know that white bitches love that big, black cock. See? Now that was kinda racially offensive, Tony.

Jesus Christ I hate this place. And, oddly enough, I have Jesus to thank for this moronic bullshit. Of course, it's not directly His fault; it's His followers and the mindset that they're pushing. But fuck Jesus all the same. Fuck Jesus, fuck Michael Powell, fuck ABC and Tuh-rell Owens, and fuck Americans. God damn it I hate everything.

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

God damn it, can we just burn Texas down? And can we start by setting that one fucking parent who complained on fire? Jesus. This is what pisses me off about this country, because there are millions of people who are that fucking dumb. I can't tell from that article whether or not any kind of cross-dressing was actually part of the homecoming festivities, but it's all irrelevant. Cross-dressing has nothing to do with homosexuality. Is there some overlap there? Are there some gays who like to cross-dress? Yeah, of course. But there are plenty of straights who like to do it, too. Shit, how many women out there right now are wearing something made for men? I guess you're all a bunch of lesbians now, aren't 'ya? Well, one can hope, because that could be hot. Seriously, anyone who's taken three seconds of a basic psych course will hear the following: correlation does not imply causation. Try telling that to ignorant Christians (but I repeat myself).

As far as the other side goes, I can't say I'm a huge fan of men in women's clothing, but if you want to do it, then you do what you gotta do. I don't give a shit. Hell, I'd probably dress up in skirts and dresses myself if I thought I'd look good in them (which I wouldn't), especially since I'm already so feminized as it is.
Who cares about a list of dangerous toys? How about a list of shitty toys? Hell, I could bang that out in about three seconds: all of them. All of them except for the toys that I'd buy. Yeah, if you're out toy shopping, just ask yourself: what would Bitter Little Man Buy? Make yourself a WWBLMB wristband if you need to, because I have the best taste in everything.

Furthermore, I don't see how a product called "carpet skates" could be considered dangerous. Also, I find no end to the amusement over the Pocket Rocket Miniature Motorcycle. Yeah, the "pocket rocket," a toy undoubtedly marketed at boys. "Hey Butthead, I've got a pocket rocket. Check this out."
Law & Order: Criminal Intent just isn't that good. Especially not when compared to the original Law & Order or Law & Order: Sport Utility Vehicle (AKA Sex Crimes Unit). Have you ever noticed that every preview for L&O:CI could read as follows: "Watch as Vincent D'Onofrio yells at a perp in the interrogation room on the next Law & Order: Criminal Intent!" All that yelling is probably why he keeps landing himself in the hospital.

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

So Condi Rice has been tapped to be the next Secretary of State. Even though he just turned into the Administration's prison bitch (not to detract from Tony Blair, their overseas prison bitch), it was nice having Colin Powell as our chief diplomat since he was, you know, interested in diplomacy. Despite the fact that he was a huge pussy, it sure beats what I can only describe as the latest move in Bush's consolidation of power.

I guess I'm okay at this point with Stephen Hadley being next in line for National Security Advisor, if only because now when he's mentioned on the news I can just go "*sigh* Hadley..."

President Bush has instructed his new national security team to end the running battles between the State and Defense departments and the Central Intelligence Agency...

Yeah, that oughta be somewhat easier now since he has his man installed at the CIA, and his woman will be installed at State.

If a large-scale migration takes place, it could mark a transition between the institutions not seen since Henry Kissinger controlled both of them...

Things are always good if you can make comparisons to Kissinger.
You know what? Fuck kids. And no, not like that, you sick pervert. I don't care about their glass blowing and dildo practice, kids don't have any fucking idea what "busy" is. Shit, I don't know what "busy" is, and I'm coming off a two-month bender at my job. Couple that with what might be qualified as heavy masturbating, and I'm getting a small inkling of what "busy" is, but these kids are (literally) years behind even me.
Google search:

getting money to see your wife getting fucked

What, you wanna get paid to watch your wife go jewelry shopping? Oh, wait -- that'd be getting paid to watch yourself get fucked. Sorry, pal.

Just in time for Thanksgiving or Mideast warfare

Yahoo search:

people who fuck turkey

Are they talking about the country or the animal?

Monday, November 15, 2004

Yeah, that's pretty much what I'm saying. Okay, well, not exactly.

Since we're so sick of Democrats and pussy-ass liberals in general, we've decided that we need to start a new movement. A third way, if you will. It's mostly liberal, formed on the basis of things like abortion and gay marriage, along with the concept of a bunch of money for a small group of people (namely, us; then it, uh, trickles down from there). Basically, a merging of our liberal mindset with our inborn sense of greed. Who's in? Better get some lovin' while the gettin's good.
Damn, that's a lot of cash.