Saturday, January 29, 2005

Goddammit God hates me I know it.
I finally get my computer working, and my phone line gets severed by, get this, a bolt of lightning. Thinking God might be trying to say something to me. Anyway, on to the midget.

One sunny Sunday, I showed up to church late and ended up sitting by a parishoner I had never seen before. A young female midget. Normally, a midget would catch my eye the second they stepped within fifty feet of me, but this one has apparently been under (heh heh) my radar for several months. She sits right next to me. I stare. Confrontation developes in the parking lot.
"What, do you have a staring problem or something?" she asked, knowing the answer all to well. Unfortunetly, my traitorous mouth made the situation about a hundred times worse.
"Well, I was only trying to see if you were a person, or just a stool,". Smooth one. She got flustered and walked away. Cut forward one week. I go to church and who should sit next to me, none other than the midget. And this time, she brought her boyfreind to teach me a lesson. Normally, this would be a valiant and heroic thing for him, but when you are also a midget, teaching a lesson is not a good idea. They sit, girl to my left, boy to my right, staring at me throughout church. Awkward. Especially when we got to the parking lot. One thing to note, I am a grade A trashtalker, and I wasn't about to back down to a midget.
"So mother fucker, heard you don't like my people."
"You people keep bringing my inquirisitive mind on yourselves. Now, are you two stools or a love seat?" He screams and charges me. Impulse got me before sense did. WHAM! My foot, midget's chest. He crumples like a napkin. I decide to vacate the premises. I run, get in my car and drive off as fast as I can. I learn later I broke two of his ribs and fractured his sternum with one kick. Damn I rule. Plus, the girl stopped giving me lip service.In retrospect, that may have been the dumbest action, but hell, it worked.
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Tuesday, January 25, 2005

PC go BOOM!
Know what sucks? having your computer's entire inner workings fried by a freak bolt of lightning. Yes, I have surge protectors on the main cords, but, as I found out, it can get fried through the phone line. OOPS! Well, since the parts for my new comp have trickled in, a few interesting things happened in my life. I was banned from the school library for insulting the caretaker and his wheelchair. I was nominated as "Person with best personality" for my year book, and I quit smoking. Continuing from where I left off, I will be finishing my church series, and now I have alot more things to rant and rage about then ever.
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Tuesday, January 4, 2005

The strange and interesting people of my church.
For those of you who do not know, I am a devout Roman Catholic who just happens to be one of the worst sinners in his parish. Over the next three days, I shall tell of three very interesting occurences at my church, made exceptional by who the people bothering me were. Today's tale of My Church happened just the other day. There is a man in the back that no one sits by. He is a lonely man, slow in the mind, and very creepy looking. He is hunched over all the time, wears enormous coke bottle glasses, and is bald. Most days, he sits there all alone, not talking or moving until church is over, then he gets up and leaves. I used to think he was alone for the strange smell he emits, but no. Sunday, I discovered the real reason. About midway through the service, it hit me that this creepy, balding, middle aged man was... staring at me. Not a sideways stare like I would expect, but actually turned towards me, looking right at me. Or rather, my crotch. I start staring at him. Soon his gaze shifts up so he is looking at me. Well, at my eyes now.
"That's a mighty fine looking Bible you got there" he says. I play it cool.
"Yeah, and you know what else? You have one right in front of you." Real smooth. The rest of church, he kept staring at me. Or more precisely, my crotch. Then church ended, and we get to the parking lot. I am in a hurry to get as far away from my pedophillic freind, and he is in a hurry to do the strangest thing ever. Normally, I would take this as a compliment and just leave faster, but seeing an old ass like that playing pocket pool with his eyes closed at the bus stop. Fucking grand. Another parishoner, and older woman by the name of Ethel, came up and said "and now you know why we don't sit by him." I hate my life for that. Come tomorrow for an episode with a midget.
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Sunday, January 2, 2005

Things on my mind.
There should be a round state. Why don't people just go away? When will that hot chick on CNN do the news nude? Whatever happened to that Whatever happened to Robot Jones show? How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop? Or how bout how many does it take to get to Freakazoid's non chocolate core? Where did all the bell bottoms go? Is there a wrong way to eat a Reese's? What color is the sky to a color blind schmuck? Who created God? What is that weird smell locker rooms have? Do chickens or cows know they are getting their heads cut off? Who invented the abacus? Is anyone still reading at this point? Why can't I fall asleep? Why does school have to open tomorrow? Is Michael Moore a virgin still? Who the fuck cares about faded jeans?
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Saturday, January 1, 2005

May nothing of Quentin's be forgot.
Looking back over the years, I have seen alot of movies. Most suck. One man, however, has released nothing but great movies. Quentin Tarantino. Every movie this man has made in his life rocks hard. Pulp Fiction. Gritty, Violent, Sadistic. But clever, funny, quirky, and wonderful. Kill Bill. Violent to an extreme, but loads of fun and a bloody good romp through Japan and the Midwest. Resevoir Dogs, Dusk Til Dawn, hell, even Hero was awesome, if long winded. Which leads me to my point. I know about three hundred people who never saw Pulp Fiction. If they are going to make Fahrenheit 9/11 recomended material for social studies classes, I want Pulp Fiction mandatory for TV Production and Social Studies as well. Not for it's educational value, just so when some liberal douchebag complains about how much Pul[ Fiction sucked as opposed to how much Fahrenheit 9/11 sucked, I can kick him in the face with a clean consciance. I am off to get hammered to celebrate the new year.
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Monday, December 27, 2004

Fuck your relief fund.
Yesterday, an enormous tidal wave killed over 22,000 people in nine seperate countries. Well too fucking bad. Everytime some big natural disaster is raping third world countries, Big daddy America comes to the rescue with food, medical supplies, and cold hard cash. I have yet to hear a thank you, and for some countries we have given alot of aid to, they usually still hate us afterwards. So, my idea is, fuck them. They obviously don't want our help, so screw them. We spend that money on ourselves. Man my idea rules.
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Friday, December 24, 2004

400+ views.
God damn I kick ass. 400 views. Now, I remind you i do not do this for viewers, I do this for fun, but goddamn. I would have though I was going to give up by now. For the next postings, I plan on making fun of: gothics, angsty teens, soccer moms, anti war protestors, college kids, and people who hate New York. Expect more poetry also, apparently, people love my poems. Happy Golidays and go fuck yourselves.
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Thursday, December 23, 2004

What will happen when I am king.
1. I would outlaw Titanic and all other Leonardo DiCaprio movies until he submits himself to getting shot in the face with a salad shooter.
2. All women will go through a vigorous process where they are taught how to not get knocked up by some outlaw wannabee prick with a ponytail.
3. All men will be forced through a mandatory anti- bullshit program, where they will learn to quit making asses out of themselves to impress women.
4. All wiggers or jiggers will be rounded up and shipped to the Eight Miles, Del Ray, or the Cabrini Greens Projects, where they will show off to all the real gangsters how badass they are wih their mother's minivans.
5. Giant statues of me will be erected everywhere.
6. All people who are assheads all the time will have surgery to make their heads into asses. If that is what you are going to be, you will at least look the part.
7. The KKK, Al- Quaeda, the IRA, and all other "revolutionary" fanatics will be given amnesty provided they shut up and pipe down. If not, no more dicking around. Smash and burn campaign until all members are dead.
8. Any teen hanging out in a coffee shop, holding a thesaurus, will be dragged into the street and beaten by the secret police. Leading me to
9. A police force of brutal sociopaths will be appointed. Bred from birth to be fanatically loyal to me and my clones, they will be allowed to fully invade any privacy and beat down anyone who does not agree with me entirely.
10. The U. S. will seceed from the U.N. as we have been helping those shits since it's foundation and so far I have yet to hear a thank you.
11. Anyone not liking my millitary campaign against certain middle eastern regions will be sent there, as they think it is a right fine place anyways.
12. Any and all countries giving us shit will be bombed thouroughly into liquid shit. It is time we stopped this shit. I am tired of countries walking all over my homeland just to hide behind the obsolete Geneva Convention like they are hot shits. No one else follows that trash, so we shouldn't either.
13. The French Foreign Legion will be issued a challenge. They will fight the Girl Scouts. After getting there asses kicked, the Legion will be forced to return to their country and beat down anti- me advocates.
Damn I rule.
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Tuesday, December 21, 2004

Happy fucking holidays.(Poetic mood)
twas the night before Christmas
and all through the home,
all the fossils were decaying,
from watching Biodome.

Patty Louise from a stroke,
Loise Pat from fear,
Debbie marks from the stairs,
and Coon from the beer.

Sal Simpson from his heart,
Tom Jackson from cold air,
Jack Thompson from a bath,
and the nurse's didn't care.

The stink got much worse,
but the attendants could'nt smell,
all their former charges,
dead on the way to Hell.

For all their old rantings,
and all the old advice,
most of those old bastards,
were as cold as dry ice.

They were full of lies,
and all were big fakes,
for the ladies were whores,
and the men were all flakes.

So next time some old fruit,
is giving you shit,
just smile wide and say
"Shut it you hypocrit."

You are full of double standards,
most of your complaints lack sense,
you cannot adjust to now,
and your old ways are so dense!

But you know in the end,
we all are that way,
so what I just told you,
may not be good to say.

So leave the old bastards alone,
let them be old cliches,
and from your friend Alasathor,
Happy Fucking Holidays.

What can I say, I went and saw my grandma the other day at the Old Folk's Home. Right as they were carrying out three dead spinsters. Death does not seem to bother those old people. But for me, seeing those old dead bitches made me think of how glad I am my Grandma was not one of them. So, just to make your grandparents day, give them a call, and tell them Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, Killer Kwanza, and any other holidays I missed.

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Wednesday, December 15, 2004

Michael Moore.
I touched on that fat bastard before, but now I have some more on him. Moore is the master of the double standard. See, he loves bitching about capitalism and America, as long as he can live here and spend his money with no problems. He makes movies where, using spotty language, he can fool people into believing what he believes. Well, I for one have had enough. I am boycotting all things Moore until he agrees to stop being a hypocritical lardass. I will quote him to begin my reasoning why behind my boycott. "We refuse to shop at Wal Mart until they agree to stop selling bullets and weapons. Too many people have already died." I guess Moore forgot to mention that to Wal Mart marketing reps when he was asking them to market his shitty Fahrenheit 9/11 movie. Now I am off to bed. For more anti-Moore sentiment, this site owns.
http://www.bowlingfortruth.com/
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