Personally Procrastinating Papercut Prognostications
Hi there. I'm joiless. THEEZ MAH BLAWG.
Would you like a distorted view of the difference between the sexes and the relationship of parents to their children? Watch television. Watch television commercials. There are three Truths which commercials would like you to know:
1. Men are stupid, sex-craving, lazy, indecisive, gluttonous, attention deficient, beer-guzzling retards.
2. Women are brilliant, long-suffering but somewhat brittle shrews who divide their time between flawless housework and dealing with the basic mental deficiency of their spouses with a mixture of magnanimity and snide condescension.
3. Parents are evil and they hate their children.
My favorite examples of these include a commercial where the wife is the only human character in the family - her children are swine and her husband is literally a jackass; a commercial where a woman presumably spends a considerable sum of money repeatedly redecorating her living room, only to realize that the problem was that her perpetually couch-schlumped husband didn't dress like enough of a douchebag for her (she apparently forces him to give up his gray hoodie for a wonderful combo of button-down shirt, blue cardigan and chinos - he looks incredibly uncomfortable and walks in with shoulders slumped in defeat); a parent willfully deceives his child into believing that her boyfriend had broken up with her so that he could save money on his phone bill; our good friend Bob (Bob of the Raging Enormous Cock) whose entire life has been improved by the fact that his penis is now huge and he can actually satisfy a woman with it; and every goddamn hair loss/hair dye prevention commercial which assures you that hair is to men as body fat is to women - vis-à-vis never being sexy ever again.
Look, I don't want to ride around on my goddamn high horse all day, but there are things that annoy me, there are things that irritate me, there are things that just piss me right the fuck off...
There are spoilers below and no, I don't give a shit.
Fact: George Lucas is a cancer that is killing America.
Fact: At some point 1989 and 1999, the Tumor (which had previously caused George Lucas to think that Ewoks would make totally awesome stars for their own films) completely took over the "creative center" of his brain. The result of this tragic event? Star Wars Prequel Trilogy.
Fact: George Lucas, in an obvious attempt at Killing Freedom, somehow managed to convince Steven Spielberg that it would be in his best interests to make the next Indiana Jones film about FUCKING ALIENS FROM OUTER FUCKING SPACE.
Okay, seriously, did Steve 'n' George fucking drink a couple dozen bottles of Everclear Drain-O & Tonic! before drafting this deranged roller coaster ride up the anus of nostalgia? Yes, there are strong elements of the supernatural in the Indiana Jones films. I am not unaware of this. God personally melts the face off Nazis and there are quasi-immortal knights and the Holy Grail and all kinds of crazy ass heart-yanking supernatural fucking hoodoo badassery in the films.
But aliens? Fucking flying saucers? Also, WTF Indiana Jones Offspring. This is a goddamn Indiana Jones movie - I love Indiana Jones movies, well two of them at least - and I don't even want to see Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, and that's word, y'all. As far as I am concerned, Indiana Jones is deader than River Phoenix.
What is it with the fourth movie after a trilogy I like? Did anyone see Lethal Weapon 4? It had Jet Li and Chris Rock in it. (I had to look the name of The Annoying Loud Black Guy because I have trouble telling the difference between Chris Tucker and Chris Rock and sometimes suspect they are actually manifestations of the same Loudass Primal Black Force.) It was fucking awful - yet the fourth Die Hard was awesome. What's that about anyway? Whatever. Goddamn.
Forget You Ever Saw Me,
what's a dum-dum wound?
Would you like a distorted view of the difference between the sexes and the relationship of parents to their children? Watch television. Watch television commercials. There are three Truths which commercials would like you to know:
1. Men are stupid, sex-craving, lazy, indecisive, gluttonous, attention deficient, beer-guzzling retards.
2. Women are brilliant, long-suffering but somewhat brittle shrews who divide their time between flawless housework and dealing with the basic mental deficiency of their spouses with a mixture of magnanimity and snide condescension.
3. Parents are evil and they hate their children.
My favorite examples of these include a commercial where the wife is the only human character in the family - her children are swine and her husband is literally a jackass; a commercial where a woman presumably spends a considerable sum of money repeatedly redecorating her living room, only to realize that the problem was that her perpetually couch-schlumped husband didn't dress like enough of a douchebag for her (she apparently forces him to give up his gray hoodie for a wonderful combo of button-down shirt, blue cardigan and chinos - he looks incredibly uncomfortable and walks in with shoulders slumped in defeat); a parent willfully deceives his child into believing that her boyfriend had broken up with her so that he could save money on his phone bill; our good friend Bob (Bob of the Raging Enormous Cock) whose entire life has been improved by the fact that his penis is now huge and he can actually satisfy a woman with it; and every goddamn hair loss/hair dye prevention commercial which assures you that hair is to men as body fat is to women - vis-à-vis never being sexy ever again.
Look, I don't want to ride around on my goddamn high horse all day, but there are things that annoy me, there are things that irritate me, there are things that just piss me right the fuck off...
There are spoilers below and no, I don't give a shit.
Fact: George Lucas is a cancer that is killing America.
Fact: At some point 1989 and 1999, the Tumor (which had previously caused George Lucas to think that Ewoks would make totally awesome stars for their own films) completely took over the "creative center" of his brain. The result of this tragic event? Star Wars Prequel Trilogy.
Fact: George Lucas, in an obvious attempt at Killing Freedom, somehow managed to convince Steven Spielberg that it would be in his best interests to make the next Indiana Jones film about FUCKING ALIENS FROM OUTER FUCKING SPACE.
Okay, seriously, did Steve 'n' George fucking drink a couple dozen bottles of Everclear Drain-O & Tonic! before drafting this deranged roller coaster ride up the anus of nostalgia? Yes, there are strong elements of the supernatural in the Indiana Jones films. I am not unaware of this. God personally melts the face off Nazis and there are quasi-immortal knights and the Holy Grail and all kinds of crazy ass heart-yanking supernatural fucking hoodoo badassery in the films.
But aliens? Fucking flying saucers? Also, WTF Indiana Jones Offspring. This is a goddamn Indiana Jones movie - I love Indiana Jones movies, well two of them at least - and I don't even want to see Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, and that's word, y'all. As far as I am concerned, Indiana Jones is deader than River Phoenix.
What is it with the fourth movie after a trilogy I like? Did anyone see Lethal Weapon 4? It had Jet Li and Chris Rock in it. (I had to look the name of The Annoying Loud Black Guy because I have trouble telling the difference between Chris Tucker and Chris Rock and sometimes suspect they are actually manifestations of the same Loudass Primal Black Force.) It was fucking awful - yet the fourth Die Hard was awesome. What's that about anyway? Whatever. Goddamn.
Forget You Ever Saw Me,
what's a dum-dum wound?