Make 'em Talk!

Cowards.  They are the root and sum of all ridiculousness, and if I had my way they’d all be lined up and made to explain themselves in excruciating detail…I’d shoot them, too, but I am a pacifist for the most part and it would keep us all from absorbing the true nature of our own failures.  This is something we need very, very badly.  Also, I must take as much of the heat for their behavior as they should.  Bad 3b! BAAAD!!! 

I define a coward simply: any asshole who can not accept the consequences of their actions is a coward.  It doesn’t matter to me whether you sleep with a teddy bear, cry when flipped off on the freeway,  shit your pants and hand your wallet voluntarily to anyone within eyeshot with a skin tone a few shades apart from your own, or if you call your mother after a lousy performance review at the office.  That’s all cool.  So long as you are not opting out of the consequences of said actions by either pretending it didn’t happen or taking it out on someone else, go with god.  But if you’re going to, for example: A) go on a killing spree, B) leave a note crying to everybody about every wrong you’ve endured since you had to go to fat camp, and then C) kill yourself;  please, for the love of fuck on a bent stick, start with C and work backwards, you fat fucking wuss.  Leave the few bucks you save in ammunition and gas to The Society for the Prevention of Fattie Abuse. They’ll go to McDonald’s with it and love you forever. They may even erect a flatteringly svelte monument to you- who knows?

Also, if you or your proxies are going to sit in front of a certain elected body for 10 years and shout down every intelligent rationalization for why a collapse of certain housing and credit markets is imminent, do not then ask for expanded powers of oversight of these markets once the roof has fallen in.  Instead- stand the fuck up, look us in the eye, tell everyone you are sorry, that you should’ve seen that Godzilla was trashing the room, but instead decided to be so irrationally exuberant that you made a hooker on a meth bender look like Terry Schiavo.  Then you FUCKING RESIGN.   Same-same for you ponzi-clowns who accepted hand-written receipts on napkins showing unsubstantiated one-million percent monthly returns in exchange for your life savings.  Instead of crying for the head of a person you practically begged to loot you dry at their arraignment, why don’t you use that time instead to talk to the world about the dangers of blinding oneself stupid via greed?  I think this is a lovely idea.

Furthermore, if you are blowing the holy shit out of thousands of peasants and their neighborhoods because someone in the vicinity of one of their schools happened to be lobbing barely-lethal missiles within 200 miles of a living soul on your team, do not excuse yourself by means of text messages.  That is not only lame, but it is also rude. One should always announce by either bullhorn or pamphlet-drop one’s intention to lay waste to residential areas.  Also, do not then act as though your hands were tied, and that if only these jawas would stop throwing bottle caps at me I wouldn’t have to bulldoze their shacks into powder.  Instead, stand up and state the truth- i.e. that you hate these people, that you do not care whether another one sees the light of day, and that you are so beaten down by your mother’s passive aggressiveness that you will employ any and all lunatic rationalizations for gunning down children as an emotional outlet.  Same-same for you, scumbags hiding missile launchers in schools, circumcising women, and allowing your so-called brothers to starve while you suckle the teat of a trillion gallons of oil.   Why don’t you stand there with the dude in the tank who just steamrolled a kindergarten class filled with your brother’s kids and say this-  I love this guy.  And, by the way, my god means less to me than even you dust mites.  So long as you can provide me with the meat vest that will protect and legitimize my subsurface operations, then you may exist.  But you’ve got a better chance of banging Salama Hayek on the hood of a Ferrari than I do of spilling one fucking drop of crude in the sand on my way to help any one of you scumbags.  OK, I’ll see ya.  Big day.  I gotta go to my falconry class and then rape a couple of virgins.

Bottom line- these people need to speak the hell up and state the horribly blatant. 

We are such quivering sheared sheep, that we will never accept fact over faith until our messiahs are exposed for the true cowards that they, and so we, are.  But they can’t simply be brought to justice- they must also recant fully and with diagrams.  They must say- yes, I am a meth-using homosexual who led a major conservative religious movement.  Yes, we are entitled crybabies who think that god made us Number 1 and so deserve this shithole in the sand and all that we can see from it, to boot.  Yes, I am the king here, your vodka-swilling president be damned, and I will stomp anyone of you ethniggers who says otherwise into the slush…  For if they do not speak the obvious, then we simply won’t accept it.  We are so beaten down by our delusions and our wants and our self-righteous hate, that the truth is now some sort of barely edible paste that must be introduced via feeding tube, and we need some seasoning STAT.

Anybody seen my woobie?

 


4 Comments

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Can't get that formatting out...

michael3b's picture

...nice prelude though. false false false!

OK, now it's gone.

michael3b's picture

Thanks for the help, jazz or whomever is responsible for such things.

 

ps Raj, you can pick up the new spring line of meat vests, but you gotta hurry. That stuffs starting to stink.

Now that's just harsh.

RidingFool's picture

I really don't think you should be bringing sleeping with a teddy bear into the equation.

I want a meat vest!

Rajah's picture

sounds kool!

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