Sunday, December 25, 2011

Bah! Humbug-Merry JesusChrist-Mas(with apologies to Bill Cosby and Charles Dickens)

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It was the best of times, it was the worst of times*...
What the eff''s up with all this Coal under my 70 inch Japanese Market Plasma???
And I think I was 7 or 8 before I realized my name wasn't "Jesus Christ"
cause everytime I'd do something stupid my Dad would say...
"JESUS CHRIST!, don't feed the dog baloney!"
"JESUS CHRIST!  don't tie M-80's to the cat's tail!"
"JESUS CHRIST!  don't shoot the neighbors kittens!"
"JESUS CHRIST!  don't superglue the Cat's whiskers!"
that last one's a fake memory, like the President's (Peas be upon Him) Vice President(Dumb Ass-ness be upon him) recalling watching FDR declare war on the Gooks on TV, we didn't have superglue in 1970, all we had was that shitty Elmer's which made it look like you'd jerked off allover your Lee jeans after Fluffy clawed the shit out of you...
and it wasnt till first or second grade when the School called wondering who "Jesus Christ Drackman" was, and this was the 60's when only backup majorleague infielders were named "Jesus" and the only non cartoon character hispanics you interacted with on a regular basis were...
umm there weren't any, at least not in Wurtsmith Air Force Base.
Thats in Michigan.
Northen Michigan, where it's colder than a witches Tee-Ot.
It was so cold, my Dad's Member got stuck in my Mom's ...never mind.
It was so cold My Mom's vibrator... really never mind
It was Sooooooooooooooo Cold the only Black People were the ones in prison.
OK, that last ones actually true, as is
for Summer Vacation we'd go somewhere warm, like Wisconsin.
or Canada.
And growin up in a "Mixed" family we celebrated Christmas in Odd years, and Hanukkah in the other ones.
So in 1969, instead of hearing the wonderful story of the birth of the Saviour of all Mankind, the Son of God, Prince of Peace, Inspiration for a millenium of great Art and Journeyman major league second string infielders..who died stuck like a bug on a Cross like those Butterflies I used to torture, I mean Study for my "show and tell" projects, for all of mankind's trangressions and all you had to do to join him was go to Sunday School ..
Or if you were Stew-Pid like me,  Summer Sunday School.
And they called it "Vacation" Summer Sunday School, just to rub it in your face, you know, like how the Nazi's called Treblinka a "Camp"
Umm well compared to Boy Scout Summer "Camp" it wasn't too far off...
and they meant join him in Heaven, not on the Cross, which still creeps me out almost as much as 2 dudes kissing... and how come 2 Chicks kissin isn't gross? unless its 2 Chicks who look like guys..
All I heard about was the pile of Coal I'd find under our scraggly tree...
Even Years Mom would tell me about the miracle of the oil, the festival of lights and my Dad would say

      "Hell, (actually he said the "S"-word, the one that rhymes with Twit), I've been drivin with the needle
on Empty for the last 2 years and nobody thinks its a miracle"
and my naive little sister would say "Really?!?!?!? until Mom would say "Dein Vater ist doch verruckt!" which she could say, cause he never bothered to learn her native tongue.
      Where was I? oh yeah, my Mom's tongue, I mean broken gas gauges, which was how my Dad was able to drive 30,000 miles with no gas, which is impossible, even now with Green cars with batteries the size of Hilary Clinton's Ass.
      Its the Second Law of Thermodynamics, which is why when you replace the #$%^*&^! Clutch on your wife's overpriced )#&$^%#!: BMW you have more parts left over than you started with...
      But he still brags about how he put one over on that Eli, who was about as Jewish as Osama Bin Laden, and must have been retarded, cause the odometer only showed 12 miles, even though it was a 67'...
And in whatever place old car odometer's go when they die,(and did you ever try to bust into one? damn thangs harder to get into than my wife's pants) it's still showin 12 miles, unless the rube my dad sold it to 5 years later had it fixed...
       Oh yeah, you don't know who "Eli" was...
      That's cause in 1970 99% of the cars were built in America by people like me, I mean lazy Moe-Roons and the Gas Gauge in Dad's Polara hadn't worked since he picked it up from Eli's Used Cars in Kankakee.
Thats where Eli was.
Thats Kankakee Illinois, and that's one way you can spot Military Brats, besides the lack of a regional accent, a contempt for anyone who's dad didn't fly B-52D, G, and H Stratofortresses, and the interpersonal skills of Jeffy Dahmer, we know where places like Kankakee Illinois, and Pierre, South Dakota, and Grand Forks, North Dakota are, cause we've been there.
       OTOH(that means OTOH) I didn't learn about Martin Luther King Jr.until I showed up early for rounds in 1986 and one of the hospital janitors gave me a high-5 and said something about "MLK".
And I thought it was just one of those stupid abreviations, like HNIC, or TCOB, or EMTLA.
And I'd heard of Martin Lucifer Koon, but thought he was one of those made up characters like Buford T. Justice Jr. who's scenes were cut out of Smokey & the Bandit cause even though you can send them to prison for 50 years for smokin Crack, which has aprox 1/10th the mass of the Powder Cocaine that the Muslim in Chief(Peas be upon him) snorted back when he was still "Barry" Obama...
But then I found out that Martin Luther King Jr. singlehandedly ended Racial Discrimination, Inequality, and the obscenely high out of wedlock birth rate that would be even higher if it wasn't for the nearly 700,000 out-of-wedlock-abortion-rate. And just remember, every aborted fetus is one less dude you have to worry about stealing your car, I mean, discovering the cure for cancer.
Oh yeah, he didn't do that last one, but 2 out of 3 isn't bad, unless its Free Throws, when it sucks Barney Frank Balls.
And despite what the AMA says, Cancer is good for business.
The Truth is, Cancer for lack of a better word, is Good.  Cancer is right, Cancer works, Cancer clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit, and mark my words, ladies and gentlemen, Cancer will save Teldar Paper, and the United States of America.
I mean it got Ted Kennedy, who left a smokin hot young woman to Asphyxiate(Not Drown, there's a difference) even if it took 80 years....
Cause our 1/2 Muslim Menthol Smokin President might get Cancer and maybe his Mongoloid VP Joe Biden too, from all that second hand methane from...
And I'm not sayin I want the President to get Lung Cancer cause then they'd  require you to have a background check in order to smoke, which I don't do anymore, as far as anyone knows..
And I know all about your Urine Conitine test, do you know the one place they don't look before you give a Urine sample?
Well they don't look in your mouth either, but its hard to fit 50 cc of urine in your mouth without..
Never mind. And even if urine is just ultrafiltrated plasma, it still tastes like Piss.
And in honor of the "First" "First Kiss" between 2 hot Navy Chicks,
which I'm still skeptical about, cause most of the Navy Chicks I knew made Alice the Housekeeper from the Brady Bunch look like Pamela Anderson,
here's the first top 40 tune celebrating the wonder that is Girl-on-Girl-sex
even if the "Valerie" mentioned in the song was originally a Dude.
A Russian Dude, you know, how they give Russian Dudes girl names to make em tough,
and it works, just walk up to any "J'ar'labia'treponem'i and make fun of her name...
and Johnny Cash's "A Boy Named Sue" was originally "A Boy named Valerie" except
"How do you Do, my Name is Valerie!" didn't rhyme

*Cliff's Notes

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Wilkommen in meinem Alptraum./nur fur die Einsamer

and yes that's El Debarge at 1:19...El Who? Yeah, right, like you weren't tappin your toes to "Where's Johnny" in 1986
OK, I wasn't tappin my toes either like that Homo Larry Craig, but I was sure hummin the hell out of it...
Hummin the song, not Larry Craig, dammit.
and thats "Welcome to my Nightmare" you ignorant Mono-Lingual Fucks... Sorry, just a little P-O'd,, losin $50,000 in less than 4 hrs will do that to you.What??? You don't have close to a million bucks invested in a diversified mixture of aggressive growth stocks, Blue Chips, Bonds, Precious Metals, and Money Markets??? Me either, just a stupid Vanguard S&P 500, a 1959 Mickey Mantle baseball card, and a "Used" 1973 Penthouse Calendar... So come wander with me, won't you?, to that simpler time of 1984, when the thought of a Black President was fodder only for racist jokes and bad "Saturday Nite Live" skits...
Still remember dancin to this song at the 1984 Prom...
and yes, I graduated Highschool in 1980, I didn't say it was My Prom.
It was my Sister's Prom, and I wasn't one of those Chivalrous Older Brothers who
took his homely little Sister to the Prom like Richie did with Joanie on "Happy Days""
My Sister was hot .
OK, not as hot as Phoebe Cates in "Fast Times at Ridgemont High"
My sister was more like the other one, the one who got knocked up by the Stereo Salesman in the Little League Dugout, but I'm gettin ahead of the story.
I was the Chivalrous Older Brother who took his Sister to the "Family Planning " Clinic like Judge Rheinhold did with Jennifer Jason Leigh in "Fast Times at Ridgemont High" aftet she got knocked up by the Stereo Salesman in the Little League Dugout.
And it turned out she wasn't pregnant afterall, just one of those Wimmin Thangs where there Hoo -Ha
zigs instead of zags, I mean doesn't bleed when it's supposed to bleed,
But I had her just where I wanted her, Over a Barrel,
Not literally Over a Barrel, that would be Creepy, I mean Figure-tively, as in
if she didn't want me to tell Mommy & Daddy, she had to hook me up with her friend
who had the best Figure.
Which is how I came to be dancing with Jessica at the 1984 Milbrook Highschool Senior Prom...