Cross posted at Black Magpie Theory

“I don’t really understand it, but I like what they stand for…They just support everything I’m looking for — lower taxes, less government.”
(Terry Rushing, 63,  responding to a survey about the Tea Bags)

In Short, I must Report, as long as they Purport, to Support-

Who gives a Shit if ï Understand?

In  Mr. Rushing’s Defense, he’s not the only one nonplussed.

Seems most Tea Baguettes™ ain’t exactly Crystal Clear when it comes to explaining Exactly What the Fuck.

Hell, even in Agreement, the Tea Baaaaaa™ lack Clarity.

Take the so-called Specter of “Big Government.”

Help, Help!, Big Brother’s Comin’ tuh git muh.

Lions, Tigers, and Oddly Mustachioed Men, Oh My!!

Yepper, the Tea Bagged hates Big Ol’ Meanie Pants Government sumpin’ awful.

Shit, some are so Horrified, they’ve resorted to busting out the  poster board, and Crayola’s-

See?

Not only that, but to show their Pretty Much, Fairly Serious Commitment to “Learn English or Get Out,” they try really, really,  REALLY hard to use some of that there Book Learnin’ for Fancy Town Word Spellin’.

The problem (Aside from the seemingly Contradictory Literacy Message) is-

There seems to be a Smidge of Disagreement in regard to what Exactly  makes the Government Too Big, and what Exactly qualifies as Irresponsible/Out of Control Spending.

For example, a whole mess’uh Rea-Tarty members are in the Upper Echelon of the Age Scale.

Yesiree, Billy Fuckin’ Bob, they be A lot of Old Ass Mother Fuckers Sporting Solecistic Sign-ery whilst exposing Paper Skin to Scorching Sun.

All in the Name of Liberty.

(Take that You Statist Whipper Snappers!)

And what has these Concerned Not Too Distant Future Nursing Home Residents up in Flabby Arms?

Well, they Wants tuh Know-

When is Adolf Niggler™ going to get his Big Gummint, Slimy, Commie Colored Hands out of  Medicare, and Social Security, and into the pockets of those Lazy, Good for Nothing Trickster, Crack Smoking Swindler, Big Butt Having, Wide Nosed-Breathin’ All the White Man’s Air Negroes running around like they Own the Place?

*And don’t fergit them Mexicans, too*

See?

Well, it don’t take a Peregrine Falcon to peep out the Potential Difficulty these Fossilized,  Scraggy Scalawags create for the Pee Party.

Defending S.S. and Medicare  don’t exactly jibe with the Toe Tag’s Fundamental Libertarian Message (Which I now present to you Live and Uncensored)-

Yo, Fuck Your Momma!™*

(*Double if she doesn’t own at least 10,000 shares in a Fortune 500).

In the Libertarian Mind (a Cosmic Contradiction if there ever was one), a Gummint Program is a Gummint Program is a Gummint…

You get the point.

The Point Being (Just in case)-

Social Muh-Curity, and Med-uh-care be Gummint Programs, and Gummint Programs Got’s tuh Go.

Besides, my Kid’s School needs that $$$ for a New Indoor Pool(Slash)Tennis Complex

Sorry, Nana, but Hit the Fucking Bricks. Ain’t my fault you’re on a Fixed Income.

You can see what a Dicey Situation this is for the Hee Farted crowd.

I mean-

When 50% of your “Anti-Government” Movement is comprised of Soylent Granny™ and the Medicaid Brigade, your “Anti-Government” Message seems a bit Disingenuous.

Just a bit.

The Message is even further Compromised when you take into account that the Majority of  Boz Skaggs (by their own admission), regardless of age, reside in Suburban or Rural Wreel ‘Merica where “Wealth Redistribution” is

Life Blood.

Sweet Bread.

The Fountain of Pay for my kid’s New Indoor Poor(Slash)Tennis Complex.

Hmmmmm.

(Oh, and the Racism ain’t helping much either).

I must admit, I be confused.

To the naked eye, it appears the Knee Scabs may actually Lub Sweet Pappy Government every bit as much as the Socialist, Liberal, Nazi, Monarchical, Nationalistic, Timocratic, Anarchist, Consociationalist, Theocratic,  Despotic, Corporatist, Plutocratic, Confederate, Kleptocratic, Commie, Magic Negro™  Queer Lubber Livin’ up Yonder in the Brown House (Did I mention the Racism?).

See?

Speaking of the Racism.

Wow.

Where to begin?

The Flea Bags are Obsessed with Race.

Turn to Fux Newd™ (Bare of Talents™) at any point in the day, and you’ll hear at least one Pasty White Tweedle Dee bleating on, and on about-

How

Some Black Chick “falsely” accused Some White Dude of being a Racist.

or

How

Some Black Chick discriminated against Some White Dude because he’s Some White Dude (Reverse Racism).

Holy Shit, Me. oh. My. The Tea Tarded™ get Hard over Reverse Racism.

Fucking Love It.

Which is Odd considering the fact that most of these Mouth Breathers are, as we discussed, Rural or Suburban Dwellers.

I’ll admit, I don’t go out there much, as I’m not a fan of Chain Restaurants, and/or Strip Malls, but I’ve seen Suburbia a time or two, and the place ain’t Exactly screaming “Racial Diversity.”

Dull.
Artificial.
Inauthentic.
Lame.
Plastic.
Fake.
Mundane.
Architecturally Redundant.
Forced.
Misleading.
Creepy.
Obese.

Okay, I’ll give you that much.

But

“Racially Diverse?”

Nah.

And Rural ‘Mericuh?

Undocumented Workers do not a Melting Pot make (and let us not forget that in Mixed Company, Meat Shaggers are Vehemently opposed to the Mexicanization of “Are” America)

See?

The point being, for people with Minimal Exposure to Minorities, Tea Bags sure Have More Than Their Fair Share of War Stories involving Reverse Racism.

Of all places to Perpetrate Their Evil Plan of Revere Raciamentalizationism, why Blacks chose the Burbs where they’re Outnumbered 100-1, I’ll never understand.

I can see the Memo now-

Tomorrow. P.F. Chang’s™. One O’clock. Sharp.

Oh,Don’t Forget.

Wear Dockers™.

Cool,

BLACK POWER!!

See?

Seems a Tad Unbelievable.

Just a Tad.

I’m 40, I grew up in a city, lived in cities in other states, traveled to other cities, interacted with numerous Minorities (Friends, Co-Workers, Clients, Acquaintances, Lovers) and not once did I ever experience any Reverse Racism.

Well, there was that one time in college when I worked for Papa John’s™, and as I was a coming back to my car, after making a delivery, a black kid, around five years old, called me a “Honkey™.”

Maybe Gwenn Dreck™ can track the kid down.

Probably grown, and all Black Panthery by now, Hellbent on Reverse Racisming everywhere he goes.

Don’t go back to Mexico. Stay Here! Live with Us.

You’re my friend, Whitey. Your Whiteness is what makes you beautiful.

I have Black Sheets, and they’re on…My Bed.

Kapow!

Take that Ku Klux Klan.

HA.

Reverse Racism.

Fucking Morons.

See?

To a Reasonable Person, such Contradictions, Inconsistencies, Apparent Dishonesty, Obvious Pandering, and Ironic Literacy Concerns should, at the very least, bring into question the Pee Hag’s Sincerity.

But alas-

this is Wingnuttia after all, and in Wingnuttia

Reason ain’t Exactly (?) a  Residential Requirement.

Truth is, tis a monumental mistake of Epicurean Proportions to think Dipshittery is in anyway a Deterrent to the Palindrones of the world.

See?

Makes perfect $Cents$



Posted in American Hypocrisy, Jonestown Kool-aid, politics
Tags: Sarah Palin, teabaggers

Sons of suicides seldom do well.
Characteristically, they find life lacking a certain zing.
(God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater)

And the Summer of Our Discontent is fading into the Fall from a really High Building w/out a Mixed Metaphorical Paddle.

Fuck.

Figures.

~5493459043=.9

Glenn Beck is a Smug Cunt. Let’s get that out in the OPEN for the White Eyed and Bush-y tailed.

Cunt³

Tell him to his face, but Grifters only have Eyes for the Jaundiced. He ain’t interested in-

One…Two…Rat-a-TAT-TAT!

Speaking of Failing Livers-

Old people really suck.

Once you get to the point you no longer recognize you smell like Cat Litter, it’s time to Die or at the very least, Move out of the Goddamn Way.

Too late for “Restorations,” or “Refudiating Cackles of Rads.”

Not right for the Old to Decide for the Young-

Let us get on with Living.

I know.

I’m cruel.

Bullshit.

I’m merely cuing you to the Farce right there in front of your Fucking Whatever-

Although I seldom choose sides, this time I’ve made a Selection, and the Winner is-

the

Glock 19.

Because nothing says-

Welcome, Pair of Mormon dudes riding Mountain Bikes wearing white short sleeve shirts, long pants, and ties in 97° weather, better than Nineteen Full Metal Jacket Cap Peelers.

Sure, I’d love to Convert…

Seriously, Mormonism is Scientology with an even less believable Story Line. (Yeah, you heard me, Fuck L. Ron Ron).

Thetans or Lamanites?

Wow, tough choice.

I’ll get back to you after I self-Lobotomize.

God Almighty.

What are people to do these days?

Tosspots abound, War, Greed,  Reverse Racism, Art is being Murdered faster than the Rain Forests, AND there Ain’t Shit on TV except a couple Toffee Nosed Mardies queefing out dialogue obviously written by a Quasi-Retarded Wannabe Poof going through an Artificially Inseminated After School Specialized Tragedy.

What the fuck they Expect people to think, Feel, Say?

I’m here, to tell you-

But Exactly what

I haven’t the faintest Fucking Idea.

This is why Jesus invented Napalm.

I will remind you, Kindly Passengers, they’re Mocking more than MLK’s memory.

They’re eating away, as termites, the very foundation.

GOP the Party of Lincoln?

Champions of “States Rights” Murdered Lincoln FIRST!

Can’t have It Your Way.

Reason ain’t dead.

Yet.

Don’t think about too much though. No need to worry.

Instead-

Dance ’round like Hypnotized Chickens.

Or weep Controllably, and always with Goldline in Your

♥

My baby’s so vain she is almost a Mirror.

Hanging on the Corner this morning-

Some dude wearing an Anaheim of Los Angeles California @ Fresno State Tech University of Southern Colorado Near (But not Too Near) the Border with Utah Angels cap gave me a Couple Golden Tablets.

Said-

“This Shit is Waaaay Better than that Last Shit, and that Last Shit was the Shit, and that Ain’t No Shit, brother.”

Latter Days, Saint!

Seriously, I’m not shittin’ you.

Anyway, I hope he wasn’t lying cuz’ I already Dropped’em, and once they’re Broken they cannot be Returned.

Course, you can always do a Re-Write

If for whatever reason, you forgot what your Seer Stone Said for You to Say They Said to the People You Previously Said They Said Something Different than What You’re Currently Saying.

<(Pssst. Don’t forget your “Hat”)>

Some of this is neither here nor there, but some of it is.

Looking through the Looking Glass-

The words I use mean exactly as I intend.

Exactly when I intend them.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

If you find them difficult, that is a problem with Process over which:

I have no Control.

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

Not with a Ham

But a Banana.

And now…Your Moment of Non-Sequiturial Zen-

In the non-news,  Chuck Norris’ vapid rendition of “The Star Spangled Banner” was thankfully interrupted by swarming butterflies hellbent on preventing Chuck from butchering our beloved anthem any further. In an interview moments after the his embarrassing exit stage left, Chuck blankly blamed the events on the fact that children no longer pray in public schools, and instead are taught the Atheist Philosophy of Evolution. “Obviously,” he went on, “if children were not being exposed to the teachings of Satan, Nature (An extension of God’s hand) would not be punishing mankind (Specifically 60 something year old men with orange skin, and hair pieces).”From there, Chuck meandered into a story about St. Peter riding a Triceratops to the peak of Mt. Sinai. According, to “Walker- No, seriously, someone get me a Walker,” the Triceratops, and St. Pete met up in the Garden of Eden, as Pete was there attempting to convince Eve apples are Passé, and that the wave of the future is Star Fruit. (Turns out St. Pete invested all his Bingo Winnings in a Star Fruit Orchard, Plantation, Bush, place where Star Fruit are grown).After what seemed like minutes, Chuck went silent, and stared into the camera sharing his vast emotional palette with America, and just as he was about to start up again-Smash, Crash, BANG! An anvil fell from the sky, crushing him to Peanut Butter. No word out of Salt Lake City as to whether or not today’s events are considered an act of God’s Divine Grace.

Posted in Jonestown Kool-aid, blog

Fred Thompson (Son of Used Car Salesman) is an Obese Buffoon.  A Smug Pumpkin of a man. His Head Empty as Stupid, if Stupid were a Second Rate Actor with Age Spots, and Burgeoning Memory Loss.

Safe in his Sacrosanct Perch HIGH Up. On. Mount Twitter, Fred Thompson reigns down upon the World with Glib Humdingery, and a Turnip Truck Conservatism Hell-Spawned from his Geriatric Medicine Cabinet.

One can almost Hear the Insipid traveling Hyper-Speed across his Infinite Platitude Laden Incuriousness.

Ah, yes, Freddy Thompson. Good Old Fredward W. Thompson (I don’t think his middle initial is “W,” but it should be).

Freddy, Freddy, Freddy, Freddy, Freddy.

Is it ironic to Fill Empty Space with Empty Space?

No.

Fred Thompson- the 27th Incarnation of Ronnie “Ron” “Ronald” “Ronaldo” Raygun.

Christ, every Fucking Dipshit Wingnut in the Universe claims to be the “Second Coming.”

However, I must admit, Freddy Boy does have a case better than most (Let’s take a closer look)-

Shitty Actor (√)

Lazy (√√)

Cliché, and Clever in Lieu of any real Intellectual Depth (√)

Memory Problems (Huh? No, we don’t want any insurance)

Claims to be a “Big Picture Kind of Dude” to deflect attention away from fact he has Poor Eyesight as well as Limited Intellectual Functioning (Pass the Jumbo Blocks)

Phony, Down Home “Common Sense” Appeal (Dern Tootin’)

Old as really, really, really, Very Old Dirt (√)

Enjoys cheese from Jars, and Cans (Cheeze-a-Licious)

“Tough Guy” image that’s more “Fantasy Football” than “Gridiron Warrior” (Gip, Gip, GOO-RAY!)

Giant, HUGE, Bulbous, Empty Head (tIn nach!)

Birdbrain wife (Cheep, Cheap, Chirp)

Lazy (Did I already say that? If not, dude is Fucking LAZY).

Fond of Buffet Style Restaurants where food tastes like Water (Waiter, Check, Please)

Umpffffffttt. ‘Scuse me.

Hmmm. As I said, he does make an interesting case.

But I’m not convinced. I mean, A Lot of people are Lazy Shit for Brains. That Doesn’t make them Presidential Material.

Well, even if it does, I’m not buying Sir Napsalot as the new demi-god of ->

Com-Serve-I-tism.

Not just yet.

I know. He is in possession of many of the Bone-A-Fides, but we’re talking about Ronald Reginald Sgt. York O’ Reilly Reagan here, not Newt Gingrich or some other Second Rate Cunt for Hire.

This is the Real Mc Coy, people.

The Mantle cannot be passed along without a Great Deal of  Deliberation. We’ll have to have a meeting, and then a Conference, and then another Meeting about the Conference, and then yet another Conference (Except this time a Teleconference), and, uh, we’ll need to Pray. Oh, Holy Fuck, will we ever need to Pray. Might even have to Fast For a Few hours. Self-Flagellation may be involved, as well. I mean, you never know with these kind of things.

And even after all that work, we still won’t be close to the Finnish. Not Remotely.  (Fuck, have you seen the “Quality of Life” Surveys?)

That’s it, but with more Lurch.
Perfect.

Look, America.

I know you yearn for a Savior, and nothing Screams “I’m Here” quite like a man 5-7 years away from Shady Acres Senior Citizen Recreational, and Residential Facility, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

We need to take a Deep Breath, count to 10 or 4 (depending on your personal preference and level of Brain Damage), Check Our Inventory, and have a Moment of Silence.

Okay.

Ready.

Everyone together now-

Breathe In…

Ommmmm

Or…a  product of Incest

Damn.

I am Utterly embarrassed, My Voyeuristic Lovelies.

After searching the depths of my Soul, Looking over the Data, and running a few Calculations, it seems I may owe Freddy McNappy Pants an apology.

It seems he Truly, Truly, Really (plus Sauce) is Re-Reanimated Ronnie “I Can’t Recall” Reagan.

I just hope he’s reading.

Oh, and that his Thyroid Medication hasn’t kicked in yet.

Posted in Jonestown Kool-aid, blogs, politics

I stuck a six-inch gold blade in the head of a girl

I say this without a Hint of Arrogance:

I Spin Gold, like Rumpelstiltskin.

Whilst Mother Fuckers climb the ladder with-

“Facts have a well known Liberal Bias.”

Ugh.

Here’s a Little Known (But should be Well Known) Fact-

eh.

I’m stealing your First Born. And if you can’t keep up, I’ll get your Second, too!

Maybe that’s Sociopathic, but=

This is the State of the State at this Stage of the Game.

Not an Excuse, and even if it were, doesn’t make it any
Easier to Accept , I know.
But I’m not some Boot Licking Step n’ Fetch.

(Just don’t tell DoKKKTur Laura).

She: lyin through her teeth-Him: lyin on his back

This Part coming up is…Parody.

Here. And, Here. Oh, and Definitely-

Here.

Pure Satire, Baby.

Breath it in.

Enjoy the relief b/c-

Unfortunately.

I’m writing in Real Time from the real world, and that Blueberry Acid I dropped about 15 minutes ago? Starting to Kick In.

and

the canvas is melting, and I’m getting the Sense that all this Sense is starting to make Way too Much Sense for one with such Tender Sensibilities as yours truly.

Just think of me as Salvador Dali (If he weren’t such a Goddamn Fascist).

As of now, the world is on Hopi Time.

All at Once.

See, you want to move from Line to Line. Moment to Moment.

You wish to find your way between periods, and commas, and EXclamations, but this is a Painting-

Not Arithmetic.

Look around.

It’s not what I’m saying that matters, but what you think I’m saying. Because I’m bound to say any Fucking thing that pops into my demented mind as the only Filter I Have is Chock Full’a Holes.

Truth is, maybe neither of us are correct in our Assumptions about what’s going on here, at this moment-

Right…Here.

Shit, how am I supposed to know?

I’m just smart enough to get myself into Serious Fucking Trouble, but barely Enough to get myself Out.

Hands off this one, hands off she cried grinnin at me from hip to hip

I told you I spin Gold, Baby.

and as you well know, Gold is more often than not=

Gaudy. Excessive. Ostentatiously Ornamented. Tacky. Over the Top.

Well, here we go, bitches!

Up, and Up, and Up, and…

Okay. It’s an acquired taste.

I can write differently if you, please-

For example

Sarah Palin wants you Dead, but not until you $$$$ Up.

Straight Enough, for

You?

Most people opposed to Gay Marriage base their opposition on the Fact that they find Gay Sex-

“Gross.”

Simple Prejudice.

Following that Ayn Randian line of Reasoning- LetItBeKnown->

I find the whole “Au Naturale” Craze

“Gross.”

and as a Favor, I wondered-

Can we ban them from Getting Married?

If not

How about from Appearing in Public, which I’d actually Prefer.

If god wanted us to smell like Patchouli, and Onions, he wouldn’t have invented Water.

Sure, I’m the Elitist.

Hands off, pretty baby. Tough bone then so soft to slip

This is Chaos within Chaos placed in a Box of Absurd adorned with a Pretty Red Bow Hallucination (For Good Measure).

Or maybe Music.

De-Constructed-Devoid of Melody, Rhythm or Obvious Purpose.

A Maelstrom of Sonic Confusion.

Noise.

An orgasm without a Climax.

Sure. That’s probably about Right.

Then again.

Probably Wrong, to0.

Making sense out of nothing at all.

Shit,  I do that every Fucking Day.

I stuck a six inch gold blade in the head of a girl

Sharks fin slices, sugar-bed slices

that pretty red hair

I love you, Now me, I love you

Laughter, laughter

Oh baby, those skinny girls, they’re so quick to murder

Oooh yeah

Shake it, baby. Shake. C’mon. Shake it, baby.

Shake…

Posted in Jonestown Kool-aid