Happy Birthday
Jul. 24th, 2006 06:57 pmto
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deuceloosely!
deuceloosely!Jul. 24th, 2006
Chasm....Sar Chasm
Jul. 24th, 2006 07:59 pm| You're Totally Sarcastic |
 You sarcastic? Never! You're as sweet as a baby bunny. Seriously, though, you have a sharp tongue - and you aren't afraid to use it. And if people are too wimpy to deal with your attitutde, then too bad. So sad. |
In other news, there's a special coming on CNN right now about how the Evangelical Christians are all bouncing on their arses with glee over the latest Middle East crisis, believing that it's a sure sign of the coming of their Christ. Why do I keep seeing all of them impersonating the mother in the Nutty Professor movies, smacking their sweaty palms together, chanting "Jesus C, Jesus C, Jesus C!" instead of "Billy D, Billy D!"? The worst thing that ever happened to this planet was when some nutbag in the desert decided that a volcano war god was the only god, and that everyone else was evil or degenerate if they didn't believe the same thing. We need a group of pissed-off militant Gnostics who aren't afraid to line a bunch of idjits up against a wall (the Wailing Wall, the Great Wall of China, I don't care, as long as it's a fucking wall) and mow them down with bullets of enlightenment.
I don't think I should watch this CNN show. I might explode with fury.
Pissed Right Off
Jul. 24th, 2006 08:55 pmAnd I don't know why.
Well, maybe I do. ::looks at calendar:: Yeah. PMS or PMDD, as "they" call it in me. I prefer to call it MCD: Mad Crone's Disease. Although I think a lot of male humans call it Mad Cow Disease, but not in front of the Mad Cow having an outbreak, lest they get their necks snapped like stale melba toast.
I'm still watching CNN, Paula Zahn, and that story about the Xtians is coming up. Do I change the channel? Do I have a choice? No. Aunt Tudi wants to see it. My curiosity won't allow me to leave the room. My head is going to blow off in the next few minutes, I just know it. Or I'm going to turn green, grow really large and pound things with my hammer-like fists. Actually, that sounds like a great idea. It sounds like a wonderful way to blow off steam.
I kinda hope it is the End of the World, but that's really not a huge piece of news, now is it? I hope it's nothing like what the Xtians believe it's gonna be. I hope the Four Horsemen of the Alpaca Lips come and wipe every last human off the face of the planet RIGHT THE FUCK NOW. I just hope I get to stick around long enough for all the religious freaks to get theirs and good.
And what the hell is it with these hypocristians who lift their hands up during some mealy-mouthed whitebread spiritless so-called 'gospel' song? If I were god, I'd play all sorts of tricks on these bozos. I'd reach down and yank the fool up to the ceiling and knock their dumb ass out, then let their limp body fall down upon the congregation below. Enough times of doing that, then maybe the idjits would keep their hands to themselves.
I dunno. I just want to run amok right now. I want to do something, but I feel powerless to do anything of any real worth. And that pisses me off even more. And I want chocolate. I want a Snicker bar and, when that weird guy with the guitar shows up to sing to me while I try to eat it, I will to shove a chop stick in his eye. Then I'll eat my Snicker bar in peace. And I want a Slurpee, but there are no 7-11s here, so I am deprived. And this pisses me off to a most dangerous point.
There are levels of pissed-offedness: Level 1-3 is Lou Dobbs. You're pissed off, but you can still articulate why you're pissed off and maybe even present solutions to solve your pissed-offedness. Level 4-7 is classic Ice T. You're pissed off. You don't care who knows it. Your creative edge is honed by your pissed-offedness. You're pissed enough to diss on cops, but not so pissed that you won't play a cop on TV. Level 8-10 is Janeane Garafalo. You're so pissed off, you vibrate PO waves that can knock down chauvinist pigs from a mile away. You open your mouth to explain what's bothering you and people laugh, which pisses you off even more. Level 10 and above is Ren Hoek pissed off. You're so pissed off, that you can't even articulate how pissed you are. All you can do is breathe heavily, turn red, let your eyes bug out, and scream "YOUUUUUUU!!!!"
I'm Ren Hoek pissed off.
EDIT: I am apparently so pissed off that I am incapable of noting and correcting typos and grammatical errors prior to posting a rant. I stand corrected, and so does this post. Now kindly piss off.
Well, maybe I do. ::looks at calendar:: Yeah. PMS or PMDD, as "they" call it in me. I prefer to call it MCD: Mad Crone's Disease. Although I think a lot of male humans call it Mad Cow Disease, but not in front of the Mad Cow having an outbreak, lest they get their necks snapped like stale melba toast.
I'm still watching CNN, Paula Zahn, and that story about the Xtians is coming up. Do I change the channel? Do I have a choice? No. Aunt Tudi wants to see it. My curiosity won't allow me to leave the room. My head is going to blow off in the next few minutes, I just know it. Or I'm going to turn green, grow really large and pound things with my hammer-like fists. Actually, that sounds like a great idea. It sounds like a wonderful way to blow off steam.
I kinda hope it is the End of the World, but that's really not a huge piece of news, now is it? I hope it's nothing like what the Xtians believe it's gonna be. I hope the Four Horsemen of the Alpaca Lips come and wipe every last human off the face of the planet RIGHT THE FUCK NOW. I just hope I get to stick around long enough for all the religious freaks to get theirs and good.
And what the hell is it with these hypocristians who lift their hands up during some mealy-mouthed whitebread spiritless so-called 'gospel' song? If I were god, I'd play all sorts of tricks on these bozos. I'd reach down and yank the fool up to the ceiling and knock their dumb ass out, then let their limp body fall down upon the congregation below. Enough times of doing that, then maybe the idjits would keep their hands to themselves.
I dunno. I just want to run amok right now. I want to do something, but I feel powerless to do anything of any real worth. And that pisses me off even more. And I want chocolate. I want a Snicker bar and, when that weird guy with the guitar shows up to sing to me while I try to eat it, I will to shove a chop stick in his eye. Then I'll eat my Snicker bar in peace. And I want a Slurpee, but there are no 7-11s here, so I am deprived. And this pisses me off to a most dangerous point.
There are levels of pissed-offedness: Level 1-3 is Lou Dobbs. You're pissed off, but you can still articulate why you're pissed off and maybe even present solutions to solve your pissed-offedness. Level 4-7 is classic Ice T. You're pissed off. You don't care who knows it. Your creative edge is honed by your pissed-offedness. You're pissed enough to diss on cops, but not so pissed that you won't play a cop on TV. Level 8-10 is Janeane Garafalo. You're so pissed off, you vibrate PO waves that can knock down chauvinist pigs from a mile away. You open your mouth to explain what's bothering you and people laugh, which pisses you off even more. Level 10 and above is Ren Hoek pissed off. You're so pissed off, that you can't even articulate how pissed you are. All you can do is breathe heavily, turn red, let your eyes bug out, and scream "YOUUUUUUU!!!!"
I'm Ren Hoek pissed off.
EDIT: I am apparently so pissed off that I am incapable of noting and correcting typos and grammatical errors prior to posting a rant. I stand corrected, and so does this post. Now kindly piss off.
And if one more person on the telly says "stay the course," I'm going scream and run through downtown Duncan, pulling my hair (not necessarily on my head), and making death threats that will probably get me a one way ticket to Gitmo.
"Stay the course." I got your "stay the course" right here, motherfucker. BLAAAAAAHHHHH!
"Stay the course." I got your "stay the course" right here, motherfucker. BLAAAAAAHHHHH!
Paul Goodloe has the jaw bone of an ass.
And that pisses me off too. I can't pay attention to how the world is being broiled in the Global Warming soup of doom for looking at that massive jaw. He's like a human Pac Man. When he opens his mouth to say something, all I can hear is the "wacka wacka wacka" sound when Pac Man is eating power pellets. I want to be the ghost that takes Paul Goodloe out. And I would take his jawbone and place small taper candles on each one of his massive teeth, and I would pray to the god of ass-y jawbones that no other jawboned person is allowed on television to frighten the unsuspecting public.
Amen.
And that pisses me off too. I can't pay attention to how the world is being broiled in the Global Warming soup of doom for looking at that massive jaw. He's like a human Pac Man. When he opens his mouth to say something, all I can hear is the "wacka wacka wacka" sound when Pac Man is eating power pellets. I want to be the ghost that takes Paul Goodloe out. And I would take his jawbone and place small taper candles on each one of his massive teeth, and I would pray to the god of ass-y jawbones that no other jawboned person is allowed on television to frighten the unsuspecting public.
Amen.