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Welcome to my utmost random thoughts on random shit that really doesn't matter much.
Behold the glory of my mind takinga dump.
~ Sticks, Stones and Funnybones ~
Part 42 - The Same Old
The Same Old
So, Israel is invading Palestine again, and it is not even mentioned on the air waves. 20,000 troops are to be deployed into the Gaza strip over the next week, and from there a total takeover of Palestine is within Israel’s grasp. At this point I really don’t care who wins, as long as somebody does. These people are all equally guilty of the bad blood between the different Middle East factions and nations, so hats off to the winner and fuck the rest. Well, strike that… fuck all of them - the winner too - and just let them all bask in a light brighter than a thousand suns together.
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The Heroes
The shuttle landed and the returning astronauts got a “hero’s welcome”. Press conferences, keys to the city, and all that other crap. What the hell is so heroic about flying a glorified jet liner into space and docking with some old rusty space station that was built in the 70’s? It’s not that fucking special anymore. I remember sitting glued to the screen at the age of 5, waiting for Columbus to attempt a take off for the umpteenth time, drooling at the thought of flying that fucker into space. But, these days? Who gives a shit? Neil Armstrong was a hero. He walked on the fucking moon. Gagarin was a hero. He was the first man in space. Even that fucking dog, Laika, was a hero, dying out in that cold space, hooked to an Alpo drip, so we could gather some data. (I still want to be there when faraway intelligent life-forms recover that particular crashed capsule.) What the hell do these modern astronauts do to warrant accolades that one million bimbo stewardesses don’t do every day? At least the fucking astronauts don’t run the risk of being hijacked by angry towel heads with box cutters, or getting their asses pinched by drunk German business men.
Heroes, my ass.
Get back to me when you land on Mars, shoot down a UFO or build a city on the moon.
At least invent a flying car or a fucking robot that cooks our dinner. We are still dreaming of the same shit for the future that they did back in the 50’s.
Newsflash: The future is always tomorrow.
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The Roid
Professional show wrestler Chris Benoit was found dead in his home, hanging from some weight lifting contraption in his basement, after having killed his wife and son as well. Apparently he put a Bible each beside them after choking them to death. We can make fun of Arab suicide bombers and Buddhist monks on fire in the streets of Calcutta all we want, but religion also seems to claim the occasional sacrifice of crazy ass people on a roid rage trip right here in America.
Maybe his wife called him a fake and he caught his kid jerking off to a Hulk Hogan poster? Maybe he just found out that his last 500 matches were rigged and that it actually would knock you out cold to get your head slammed into a concrete floor? Maybe his dick finally shriveled up and inverted itself into a vagina from the multiple steroid abuse over the years?
Who the fuck knows, or better yet, even cares?
The only thing I thought was interesting was the fact that he text messaged his friends after the murders about where to find the bodies and his precious dogs. I would think it takes a big dumb wrestler at least a couple of hours to fist his way through a message on one of those micro-slimmed cell phones. I would like to be a fly on the wall as he is sitting by the side of his dead wife, trying to get the phone to not auto-write things like “lol” and smiley faces. He could at least have text messaged something interesting, like: “It was OJ”
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The Pursuit
I finally bought myself a guitar again. After years of poverty at the hands of the rules and regulations of the INS I can now work for a living and eventually buy something that is not to be used for the immediate survival of the family. Of course, now that I bought the guitar we are going to have to eat Rice Krispies for breakfast, lunch and dinner for a year – but my family is extremely happy to oblige me in my pursuit of personal happiness. After all, I treat them (and my neighbors) to glorious renditions of the best from King Diamond’s catalogue every night as they try to watch TV.
You know what sucks with playing again after all these years? It’s not at all like “riding a bike”. Unless maybe like riding a bike with your legs amputated from the thighs down. You know exactly how it is supposed to sound, and you remember, in theory, how to play anything, but you are way too fucking uncoordinated to actually execute it. The end result is that you become your own worst critic, and the crappy sounds you create that would excite and dazzle a beginner, makes you depressed and broken hearted instead as you realize how far the mighty have fallen.
I still love my fucking guitar and I named her Abigail after the greatest album ever made. I am such a fucking dork I should just smack the glasses off my own fucking face.
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The News
Speaking of dorks who should be smacked within an inch of their lives (and beyond)… Paris Hilton was let out of jail. She wasn’t even properly brutalized, and people are surprised. Isn’t it finally a testimony to how fucking NOT hot she is, that hardened and desperate inmates wouldn’t even touch her with their cellmate’s strap-on?
Fucking hag is now out there on Larry King, telling the world how she has changed and how she is thankful for this time-out from life. Give me a fucking break. You assholes know nothing about what’s going on in the world, but you know what Paris ate in jail and where Britney was caught with her panties down last night. I didn’t even watch the interview so I couldn’t tell you what Larry King asked her, but I am sure it had absolutely no relation to anything remotely important in life.
Fucking sad.
We’re turning into a really fucking pacified nation, drooling at the shiny objects dangling in front of our empty eyes, slowly rotting away intellectually and sliding farther and farther down Shit Hill.
Meanwhile, thousands of Mexicans are jumping that border, filled with energy and serious bravado, ready to work themselves to the bones to make for a better life for their families. One day one of them will run for president, and win, and you will sit there wondering what the hell happened to your precious America. Better brush up on that Spanish, kids. At least until the Chinese take over the world.
Hell, maybe I’ll vote for that Mexican too. Maybe then we would have some actual social reforms and a real political message – as opposed to the pseudo-plans dreamed up by the shadow gallery that is our congress and then vetoed anyway by a politically retarded puppet President.
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