NEWSFLASH: India Launches Curry Powered Moon Rocket; Population Too Hungry to Give a Shit

Oh my goodness - what a proud day for India!

AP, CALCUTTA: A spokesman for Diarrhea Reaction Motors Inc., prime contractor to India's State Space Agency announced this morning that Stinkfire 1, the nation's first lunar rocket, launched May 17, 1972, has reached its destination exactly on schedule, and has successfully entered orbit around the Moon.

After post-orbit insertion testing is completed, a man-sized probe is set to break free of the mother ship, and embed itself into the surface of the moon. If successful, the probe is to transmit data back to Calcutta Mission Control, on the possible suitability of the landing site for a proposed Dell Computers Customer Service Call Center, as shown in the Earth based simulation below:



The Stinkfire, burning a highly explosive mixture of curry, garlic and onions, is India's first attempt at placing a rocket in lunar orbit, and in the words of Mission Control Director, Mahatma "Buzz" Ghandi, "this is the auspicious day for India and for all of the Indian peoples of India. When this day, which is the day after yesterday, and the day before tomorrow, the lighting of the gases from the backside of the India rocket are expelled and to light the candles from the backside flame are to every proud India person the culmination of the backsides of the India people and the backsides of all the backsides across all our peoples of the India world. Except... maybe today is not a good day for those jokers, those stinky Goddamned Pakistanis, those people whose backside gases are not the power for the candles of peace, but only the backside gases of the hatred for the India peoples' backsides, and whose backside gases can power no rockets, but can only smell so Godammned awful."

When asked for comment, two young space enthusiasts - camped for the past two years upon the meticulously groomed mud sidewalk directly adjacent Calcutta Mission Control as they breathlessly awaited announcement of the missions success - had apparently been rendered speechless by the sheer significance of the historically significant event, and as a result, had nothing to say.

Hope ain't gonna cut it

More headlines:

Black Men Hope Obama Presidency Shatters Racial Stereotypes

Nothin' wrong with having dreams, and according to Al Pope, "hope springs eternal..."

Ummm... I'm sorry to inform you fellers... but y'all is kinda uh, sufferin' f'om what dey mights be call on da Oprah show... uh, a p'oblem wit yo image.

It's YOU, ya fucking retards, who are the only people on the planet "working" to maintain the stereotypical image of the American black man as it currently exists.

And... I don't give a flying fuck if the next thirty-seven American presidents are black men; It is not American presidents I see walking down the Goddamned street with their fucking pants pulled halfway down their asses - it's YOU.

You want to shatter racial stereotypes?

Pull your fucking pants up. Obama ain't gonna do it for you.

Would someone please shoot this bitch?

From todays headlines:

"Angelou writing a poem about Obama"

Has there ever existed a more completely worthless example of human life than Maya Angelou?

What the fuck does she do all Goddamned day, to "earn" her annual taxpayer funded stipend of $35 gees? Wikipedia defines her "job" as follows:

Laureates receive a US$35,000 stipend and are given the responsibility of overseeing an ongoing series of poetry readings and lectures at the library [of congress], and a vague charge to promote poetry. No other duties are specified, and laureates are not required to compose for government events or in praise of government officials.

God fucking damnit... $35k to do what? Compose a few flowery fucking lines of rhyming fucking bullshit... if she even feels like it???

Here: Here's a fucking poem, Goddamnit.

worthless
so
worthless
make
nothing
do
nothing
breathe
air
eat
food
collect

check

There. There's your fucking poem.

Now send me my thirty-five grand, Goddamnit.

Obama = Lesser of Two Evils (Ya, you betcha!)

Violet Blue wrote:
"This is the worst election I have ever seen."

I thought so too, and I was in fact, long planning to go fishing instead of voting on Tuesday.

However; When Dead Man Walking pulled clearly incompetent, Sarah Palin, out of some backwood, frozen JesusLand trailer park, I immediately came to understand that John McCain has either:

1) lost his mind, or
2) come to care less about the future of this nation than he cares about reaching what he considers his own personal zenith, the presidency.

I don't think Goner McCain is insane or senile (yet,) so I can only see his choice of likely post-mortem successor as a horrible pandering to the religious nutjobs, fruitcakes and loons who make up a small, but highly vocal fraction of Republican voters.

In other words, McDead knows better than anyone the stupid, incompetent boob, Sarah Palin exists as, but to him, her appeal to the wackos carries much greater importance than the future health and welfare of America - and - why the fuck should he care about the disaster a Palin presidency would unleash upon America's future, as he would be witnessing that future from six feet under the motherfucking daisies?

McCain is truly one sick, cynical son of a bitch for his prioritization of personal covetous above the needs of his nation, and any (non-fanatically religious fruitcake of an) American voter who cannot see the cynicism in this man's choice of the idiot, Palin, as our future leader, does not deserve the title of citizen.

McCain's pick of the buffoonish, amazingly weak-brained Palin, as his chosen successor, has made the choice for the 2008 election unbelievably easy: If you love America, you have no choice but to protect her from Sarah Palin.

If you love America, you will vote for the obvious lesser of two evils:

Barack Obama.

God help us.

Tweaker

We got a new cat. We didn't really get a new cat, it just showed up. She's a good mouser, so I figure she can stay.

She seems to have a problem with meth. Jumpy and itchy.

Tweaker

"This guy's gonna get an ass full of pipe wrench"

Ah ha. I see.

Click the title.

Die faster, asshole

I'm reading:

The General in His Labyrinth by Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

I like G.G. Marquez - he's about a fucking genius, as anyone who's ever read One Hundred Years of Solitude could only agree.

And... This book, all about The General, or Simon Bolivar if you prefer, should have been a work of genius as well. Should have. It won Marquez the Nobel Prize for literature after all, and those folks who give away Nobel Prizes ought to know fucking genius when they see it - right?

But... But there's a problem: And this is it:

The problem... is that the book starts with Bolivar sick and dying, and at the halfway mark, the motherfucker still ain't dead yet. He does lots of coughing, and phlegming, and tossing, and turning, and fevering, and ranting, and coughing, and death-rattling, and fevering, and sweating, and coughing and coughing and ranting...

And... And I just keep reading, waiting for the motherfucker to do something - anything. I keep waiting for this fucking book to get better, to explode into the wondrous beauty of One Hundred Years of Solitude... and...

Nuh uh. Ain't gonna happen.

And so... It occurred to me: I was sitting on my throne this morning, shitting, reading, shitting... and it suddenly occurred to me:

This book sucks.

This book REALLY sucks. Because the motherfucker is boring the living shit out of me. Because the motherfucker is taking too motherfucking long to motherfucking die.

Goddamnit - Die bitch, just fucking die already. Jesus fucking Christ, it's BORING waiting for you to die. It's boring like Waiting for Godot boring. It's THAT fucking boring.

(And THAT'S boring.)

How the FUCK this worthless waste of paper could have ever won any prize for literature is beyond my capability to fathom, but there it is in black and white: The General in His Labyrinth, by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Winner of the Nobel Prize.

Wait...

Oh, fuck me. Goddamnit. Okay, I get it. So... Marquez did win the Nobel in 1982, but NOT for this particular worthless sheaf of butt wipe, he won "for his novels and short stories, in which the fantastic and the realistic are combined in a richly composed world of imagination, reflecting a continent's life and conflicts."

Oh.

Well... shit.

Die faster, asshole. You SUCK.

(And...)

...You look like Prince.