Rape & Pillage

This is nothing more than a list of things that I've always wanted to do, but probably never will.

1. Two chicks at once
2. Stab a guy in the face
3. Shoot a guy in the face
4. Go to a strip club with Pacman Jones (I'd probably accomplish items 1-3 all on one trip)
5. Get in a high speed pursuit with Police and get away
6. Poop in space
7. Run for President on a ridiculous platform, just to see how many votes I would get. Items on the ticket would include:
a. Re institute slavery
b. Legalize toddler/retard/minority gladiator matches
c. Legalize cannibalism
d. Making obese people go door to door in their neighborhood the way sex offenders do. "Hi, I'm Slim and I'm obese. It is advisable the you do not grill or serve food outside when i am home."
8. Construct a baby cannon. It's like a potato gun, but it shoots babies

As soon as I think of anymore, I'll let you know.

Today campus security found a hand grenade hidden in some bushes at UH. Apparently it's along the path that I usually take on my way to campus after I finish work. I must have pissed off the Koreans with my previous posting. It's a nice feeling, having someone attempt to assassinate me. It makes me feel important, almost.

OK, this will probably offend a lot of people. Or, at least it would if people would actually read it. I think it's time I weigh in on the Virginia Tech Killings.

Remember when our postal workers were the ones that went nuts and killed people? Now it's our students. Makes me feel old.

Why is it that every time a student dies, either in something like this or in an accident, everyone is always talking about the bright future that student had denied. I hate to break it to you, but not every college student has a bright future. Like in every group, there are winners and losers. Case in point: I have a college degree and I clean monkey shit for a living. Stop giving me this bright future crap. Just once I'd like to see a friend or a relative of the victim go on TV and say, "Well, his life really wasn't going anywhere. Thank God someone shot him and spared him the grief".

Now every time I see a bald Asian guy, I react mentally in the same way as if I saw a bald black guy. I'm not doing it on purpose, they're just creepy.

Why do these nuts always kill themselves after blowing away a bunch of people. I mean, does he stand there, surrounded by bodies and think to himself, "OK, that's 33. That ought to be enough". What the fuck. You've already committed to the role of crazed gunman, why stop? You went through all the trouble to get the guns and ammo, why not go down in a gun battle with the police? I would think that would be much more satisfying that shooting yourself.

That's all I can think of right now. I'm sure I'll think up of some more. I mean I can't help but think of these shootings. I mean, it's only all over the airwaves 24/7.

I'm going to tell you about the greatest prank I've ever pulled, quite possibly one of the greatest pranks ever. Ok, I'm embellishing, but it was still pretty sweet.

First, A little background. My neighbors are very loud drug addicts. The goon who lives there has his friends there almost every night, where they sit in his driveway doing drugs and making noise until well after 1am. The smoke from the drugs enters our house via a nearby window. Now if it was only weed, I probably would give a shit, but it's more than weed. I have no idea what meth smells like, but I assume that's what it is since just about everyone in Hawaii is on meth.

My roommate has called the police many times, but to no avail. You have to remember that we are white and my neighbor a chink, so you can guess where the sympathies of the Honolulu police lie. Anyways, after we called the cops several times, our neighbors starting threatening us and urinating on our lawn. We got a no-contact restraining order on them. They tried to get one on us, but it was thrown out since they had nothing on us. I wasn't in court the day they tried to get one on us because the fucking idiots spelled my name wrong on the court documents (Dreu instead of Drew), so I decided not to go. Apparently they were quite upset. In retaliation they keyed my roommate's car (They keyed "bith" into the side of his car. I assume they meant "bitch".) and slashed the tires on my bike.

This may surprise some of you, but I did not get angry. How could I, of all people, not get angry? Simple. This gave me my greenlight. My roommate called the police and after it became evident that they didn't give a shit, I took matters into my own hands.

Since it's obvious that I'm dealing with some real geniuses here, I decided to simply observe them and wait for them to reveal a weakness. Like a hunter, I watched my prey while they partied, just waiting for them to give me something. I noticed that when my neighbor gets all stoned and fucked up, he sometimes doesn't lock his truck before he goes to sleep. I had the advantage. When his friends leave and he goes to bed, I will make my move.

But what to do? I have an unlocked truck, but what can I do to it. Of course, I could always take a crap in it and smear it into his seats. However, that would take time and the odds of me getting caught increase. I liked the idea of feces in his truck, but I didn't want to use my own. If not mine, then whose feces would I use? Then like a lightning bolt it hit me! Revenge will be mine!

I went to the store and purchased half a dozen cans of tuna and a bottle of liquid laxative.

I mixed them.

I placed the mixture on and in his truck.

I left the truck door open and left.

Cats came.

Cats ate.

Cats shat!

It was beautiful! I couldn't have planned it better. As I left the tuna/laxative mixture in the truck, I realized that at least the car would smell like rancid fish. However, as I lay in bed that night and heard the wild cats fighting over the tuna, I knew it would work. Of course there was the risk of some collateral damage. I mean what's to stop these cats from defecating on our property? Well, A few of them did, but a number of them went in the truck too, so it was worth it. As I left the following morning for work and got a good whiff of the morning air, I could smell the success. When I came home that night I saw my neighbor trying to wash the shit out of his seats. The pride swelled in me.

There have been no reprisals as yet. This guy is just stupid enough that maybe he believes the cats did this all on their own. Who knows? All I know is that his vehicle is going to smell of cat urine/feces for quite a while. All this over a pair of $3 bicycle tires.

Well, after about a 1 1/2 year hiatus, I've decided that I need to start bitching again. Since no one will listen to me out here once they realize that I'm not going to buy anything, I've decided to get R&P going once again. Believe me, I've got plenty to bitch about. Here's a little preview:

1. My continuing frustration with my school/advisor. I signed up for two years, it's been nearly four.
2. My new job. (Key words: Monkey & Shit)
3. I've moved twice since my last posting.
4. I've seen 2 people get hit by cars (1 fatality).
5. I myself have been hit by 2 cars (0 fatalities).
6. The homeless guy at work. You're gonna love this!
7. My drug addict neighbors and our continuing legal battles.
8. The greatest feces related prank ever pulled. This will never be topped by anyone, ever.

That's all I can remember off the top of my head. Stay tuned for more.

In my nutrition class today we were talking about our career interests. One girl said she wants to be a small-animal vet because she loves cats. Of course then everyone in the class had to start talking about their cats. The names of their cats, the color of their cats…blah, blah. This went on for a number of minutes. Even the professor was powerless to stop it. When a bunch of Asian girls start jabbering about their pussies, nothing short of an atomic bomb is going to stop them. This led to me, for several minutes, to think about smashing their heads into a brick wall and some possible Von Cossel-like hijinks afterward.

Anyways, once I returned to reality, all the talk about cat names made me remember that when I was a kid, my grandparents had a black cat named “Spook”. Everyone in the room was wondering why I was laughing out loud for no apparent reason. I was wondering why I, of all people, didn’t make the racially humorous connection earlier. Ha-ha…spooks.

Don’t you hate it when you walk by two people having a conversation and the one or two sentences you hear completely blow your mind and you spend the next several hours trying to figure what in the hell they meant? I found myself in this situation today. I was walking back from the cafeteria this afternoon when I passed an attractive blonde talking to her gook friends. I only overheard two sentences of the conversation and they left me completely dumbfounded. As I passed she said, and I quote: “I’ll just say I have tapeworms”. Then, one of her gook friends replied, “Yeah, that’ll work”.

When I finished laughing, all I could think of was why in the hell would this chick say she has tapeworms? Last I knew, tapeworms are parasitic worms that live in your intestines and are, therefore, undesirable. Even Delahola would get pissed whenever I asked him if he had worms.

What kind of predicament is this girl in to where having tapeworms would be a solution? This has been bothering me for several hours. She didn’t look anorexic, so weight loss probably wasn’t the issue. She didn’t look pregnant, so tapeworms couldn’t be an excuse for a gut. The only solution I can think of is that her boyfriend wanted anal sex and this was her way out of it. However, there are easier ways out of anal sex than tapeworms. She could just say she has explosive diarrhea or uncontrollable gas.

Jen, you’ve had lots of guys pound your ass. When you’re not in the mood, what do you tell them? Have you ever used tapeworms as an excuse? I need help here, this whole tapeworms issue is driving me nuts. I know just about every bowel/intestinal excuse there is, but I’ve never used tapeworms to get out of anything. Maybe I should try. The next time I have an exam, I’ll say I can’t take it because I have tapeworms.

People I find annoying:

1. White people who use Hawaiian or Japanese words instead of the English equivalent.

2. People who pronounce Muslim as moo-slum because they think it makes them sound cultured.

3. Girls from Peru that get upset when I call them a “beaner”.

4. Guys who brag about their alcohol consumption.

5. Fat Hawaiian apple-women who look at me the same way a lion looks at a wounded gazelle.

6. Pregnant women who wear clothes that show off their disgusting belly-growths.

7. Fat women who wear clothes that show off their disgusting belly-growths.

8. Fat people with asses bigger than their pants.

9. People that are under the delusion that the University of Hawaii has an elite division 1 football team.

10. People that drive expensive cars and bitch about high gas prices.

11. People that don’t own cars and bitch about high gas prices.

12. People that bitch about me bitching too much.

13. Guys that go into the bathroom stall next to me while I'm defecating.

14. Guys that try to talk to me through the bathroom stall walls while I'm defecating.

This rant is focused on the Akaka bill, or as I like to call it, the Kaka bill. For those of you who don’t know what the Akaka bill is, it’s a bill before the United States congress, which if passed, would give native Hawaiians their sovereignty. Hawaiians can’t even run a fucking gas station, but they want their own government and eventually maybe their independence years from now. Yeah, that’ll work. To those of you who didn’t believe me when I told you about how much people here don’t like white people or the United States mainland, here’s my proof. If you’re trying to buy the crap they sell in the tourist areas of the island, they pretend to love you. However, if you live here like I do, they hate your fucking guts. That’s the spirit of aloha for you.

Anyways, back to this Kaka bill. Most of you are probably thinking that I am against this bill, if only to piss off the Hawaiians. I’m here to tell you that you’re wrong. I couldn’t be more in favor of this bill. Now that you’re all in a state of shock, let me explain why.

Everyone knows that I’ve been begging for some sort of natural disaster to hit Hawaii. After seeing the devastation of the tsunami and hurricane Katrina, I figured something like that would go a long way towards removing some of the more annoying people from Hawaii and knocking the survivors down a peg or two. I’ve reluctantly begun to believe that I’m not going to get my natural disaster. So, I’ve been thinking of other things that could cause this place to go to hell. Then it occurred to me when I was reading about the Akaka bill. Let’s give this place to the Hawaiians! That would probably cause more damage than any storm could.

I really hope this bill passes! My prediction is that within a year or two of the Hawaiians taking over, this place will be unrecognizable. Chaos and anarchy will rule the island. The Hawaiians are working towards their own destruction. I love it!

I mean really, does anyone really expect them to succeed? It would be like putting the Puerto Ricans in charge in Washington. The only government experience that most Hawaiians have had is applying for welfare or from the viewpoint of the defendant. Are these the type of people we want in charge down here? Absolutely!

Of course, the bill won’t pass. It won’t pass because I want it to. Actually, it won’t pass because congress shouldn’t be stupid enough to pass it. However, I really hope I’m wrong.

God, you are really pissing me off. First you missed wide left with the tsunami. This time you missed wide right and hit the gulf coast with a hurricane. Is your aim really that bad? I'm watching the news footage on TV and start thinking "I wish that was Honolulu". I wish the streets of Honolulu wdere flooded and Hawaiians and gooks were rioting and looting. I wish I could say that I would indulge myself and join in the rioting, but I would probably be the only white guy out there. I may as well be wearing a giant bullseye.

I just need to ask one question about New Orleans and Mississippi. Do any white people live there? Everytime I turn on the local news here they always show an angry black man or woman yelling at the TV camera trying to blame white people for what they are going through. Don't get me wrong, what happened to them is horrible, but how is it our fault? For a minute I thought that maybe it was just the local Hawaiian stations looking for another thing to blame on white people, but the national news shows are doing it to. Do white people just not live there or were they the only ones smart enough to leave when they heard that A FUCKING HURRICANE WAS COMING! Ok, I know white people got fucked by this storm too. Quit trying to make it look like only the blacks got screwed over in this deal. Maybe the NAACP should sue the ocean and the sky for making a racist storm.

Now everyone wants to blame Bush. I'm sure Bush was kneeling in the Oval office chanting to the storm gods to wipe out the south. Please, he can't even get through a speech without forgetting what he was talking about. Maybe the Pentagon has a weather machine and they wanted to test it one somebody before they unleashed on the North Koreans. Does any of this sound stupid? Well, so does blaming people for a fucking natural disaster.

I think people are forgetting that hurricanes cause destruction and choas and it takes time to get people food and all that other crap through flood waters. If you want someone to blame, blame God. Ever hear of Soddam and Gemmorah? New Orleans was one of the sleaziest cities in the country, 2nd only to Vegas. Just maybe God got pissed off and decided to wipe a bunch of them out. If that's the case, I'm begging everyone on Ohau to get sleazy. I want to see the strip clubs full. I want people getting robbed and raped in the street. We need to get Gods attention. I'm going to do my part by finding a "date" on my way home tonight. I want Ohau buried by the ocean by time I leave.

I left a teaser in a previous post in reference to a story about a shark attack. Well, it wasn’t a shark attack, but rather a near-shark attack. It’s a story about a near-shark attack involving me.

I was on a nearly deserted beach somewhere on the north shore. I was attempting to boogie board without success. Instead of riding the waves, the waves were throwing me around like a rag doll. I decided to give up before I smashed my head on a submerged rock. I was almost back to shore in about knee-deep water when a fat Hawaiian kid started yelling “Shark”. I was a little concerned since I was the ONLY person in the water at the time. I ran to shore and looked for the shark, which was about 10-12 feet away from where I was standing and swimming towards it. The shark was clearly visible since it was in very shallow water, which still doesn’t make sense to me. If it had gone even one or two feet closer to shore, it would have beached and I would have beaten it with sticks and rocks and removed its teeth for even thinking of eating me. The one consolation is that when the shark swam past where I was standing, it had to swim through the urine that “someone” had left there.

If I had been in the water for even a few seconds longer, I might have a stump instead of a foot today. I’d like to think that I could have thrown one of those Hawaiian kids in the path of the shark to buy myself some time, but there weren’t any close enough. A few minutes later I was sitting on the shore and a big fat Hawaiian girl who wasn’t around earlier starting blubbering her way towards the water further down the beach. She had just got her feet in the water when a lifeguard on a 4-wheeler drove to her and told her something. I assume it was about the shark because she screamed and ran away. Then the fucking lifeguard drove right by me without telling me a goddamn thing. I already knew about the shark, but he didn’t know that, that fucking prick. He decided to save the fat Hawaiian bitch, but when it comes to me, the sharks need to eat too. (They love white people here)

Needless to say, a few minutes later when my brain started to fully realize what might have happened, I just about shit myself. I’ve been petrified of going into the water ever since. I still have shark nightmares every once in a while. I guess this is what I get for making fun of the chick with the stump. However, I still have all of my limbs, so I still find her TV commercials offensive.

The following conversation is offered as proof as to what an inept ignorant asshole I am when it comes to women. Right, as if you people need proof. Anyways, I was talking to a new female graduate student in our department. How I even got to the conversation phase is beyond me. Normally I can’t even get that far due to the looks of disgust I get when trying to start a conversation.

Back to the point: On a scale of 1 to 10 (1 = disgusting nasty apple, 10 = couldn’t get her even if my pecker was made of solid gold), this girl was about an 8. We started talking about the usual bullshit (Where she was from, what is she studying…blah, blah, blah). She didn’t ask anything about me, which should have been a sign. I then asked her how she liked Hawaii.

Me: “What do you think of the island so far?”

Girl: “Oh, I love it. It’s so pretty here.” Then she rambled on like that for a few minutes and then said something like: “It’s kind of intimidating though, there’s so many beautiful girls here.”

At this point I recognized that I had an opportunity to say something to help my chances before she realizes that she is hot and therefore has no need of me.

Me: “Nonsense, you shouldn’t feel intimidated. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, from what I can see.”

Until this point, everything was going well. It was at this exact moment that my brain decided to fuck everything up.

Me, continued: “You might have a hairy ass or something that I can’t see, but other than that I don’t see anything wrong.”

The moment I said it, I knew I had fucked everything up. I’m not saying that I had any kind of chance before that, but at least it was mathematically possible until I mentioned a hairy ass. Things were going so well too, at least by my standards. I wouldn’t say I was charming up until the hairy ass comment, but at least I wasn’t being gross. I was hoping to get a laugh out of her, but needless to say, she was offended. Her becoming offended leads me to believe that maybe she does, in fact, have a hairy ass. I’d like to think that by me making this comment, I could somehow improve her life by convincing her to take a razor and shave her butt. However, I’m pretty sure her ass isn’t hairy. She was offended not because she has a hairy ass, but by an asinine comment by a jackass who does have a hairy ass.

Well, I am no longer homeless. After five weeks of searching and eight days of living and sleeping in my cubicle, I finally found an apartment last weekend. It’s a studio within my price range and plenty big enough for myself and all of my belongings. Best of all, it doesn’t smell like dog piss and there isn’t shit on the floor when I come home. Wait, let me rephrase that: If there is shit on the floor, I can be certain that it’s my own.

I’ve been living in my new place for just over a week and one that has become clear to me: I am the only white person in the entire building. The remaining residents are comprised of Asians and Hawaiians. I have found the Hawaiians to be friendly. By friendly I mean that they’ll at least say hello or return a polite head nod when we pass. I cannot say the same for the Asians. Just yesterday I was doing laundry and returned to the laundry room exactly two minutes after the dryer stopped (I timed it with my watch) only to find a middle aged Nip woman waiting to give me a lecture on how rude I was for making her wait for the dryer. So, out of spite, I told her my clothes weren’t quite dry yet, popped another quarter into the machine and made her wait for another 45 minutes. I consider it money well spent. Granted, I’m not going to make many friends out of my new neighbors acting like this, but I get the impression that very few people in the building like that bitch.

I weighed myself this morning after waking up from my slumber on the floor of my cubicle. 176 lbs. I stepped off and tried again just to make sure I wasn't standing on it goofy. 176.5 lbs. This can't be good. That means I've lost nearly 20 lbs in about a month. I have been under more stress lately, but 20 lbs?! I did take a dump before the weigh in, but even I can't poop out 20 lbs worth of feces. I'm hoping it's just because I've been more active, biking around this fucking island trying to find a new home. My diet hasn't really changed that much. I wonder if my ulcer has anything to do with this, fucking up my disgestion. I should go see a doctor, but I have no health insurance (Thank you very fucking much UH!), so it would cost too much and since I need money to pay for a new home I really can't afford to piss money away on doctor's bills. I may go on an all-pork diet for a week or two to make up the weight. Shit.

This is really starting to suck ass. Sleeping on the floor really makes my back hurt. The anger and frustration I feel right now is beyond description. I've been looking at places all week. Of course I have to fill out applications, so I won't even know if I'm picked to live in the fucking places for at least another week. Anger. I went and looked at a really nice place tuesday night. Some guy needs a roomate and I was the first to go look at it. So, I thought I would get first crack at it. The building had a pool, jacuzzi, sauna and a gym. It was within my budget. Less anger. I told him I wanted the room and he said I could have it, it's just that he told other people they could look at it so he at least needed to pretend to be showing the place to them. So at this point I thought I had a new place. He told me he'd let me know the next day (wed). So wednesday rolls around: Nothing. I gave him a call thursday morning and he said more people called and wanted to look at it and it would be another 4-5 days. Anger. At this point I know I'm NOT getting the room. Let me tell you, it really sucks being a white boy in a city full of gooks. Equal opportunity my ass.

Ex-landlord-pig called me the other day too. I didn't answer, but he left a message telling me to call him. I deleted it. He knows where to send my mail. As far as I'm concerned he can go suck on it. My only regret was not murdering Joey.

You should take a look at me. I look like I've been sleeping under a bridge for about a week or two. I look like a hobo, minus the rags for clothes. I shower too, so at least I don't have the hobo musk. Well, I'm off to go find some dinner and to find a new hiding spot somewhere in the building in which to sleep. They caught me on the couch yesterday. I told them that i was working late and just decided to stay the night. It worked the first time, but I don't think these gooks will believe it again. Well, at least the floor doesn't smell like dog piss.

I'm close to finishing my 2nd day and what will be my 3rd night since I've become homeless. Let me tell you, there's a reason that people live in homes. I've tried sleeping out on the couch in the lobby here, and the couch is comfortable enough. It's just that there is no way of turning the lights off out there and I can't fall asleep with all of that light. So last night I decided to throw all of my bedsheets on the floor in my cubicle to create a hobo's mattress of sorts and slept on the floor. I kept waking up throughout the night until I tried the couch again with no luck. What I will do tonight (and I'm a retard for not thinking of this earlier) is to steal the cushions off the couch and lay them on the floor in my dark cubicle. That should do the trick. I'm pretty smart for a homeless guy.

I'm glad there is a shower here because I went riding my bike around town today (looking for a home) and got really sweaty and quite pugnant. I forgot my shaving cream at the pig's house so I'll have to get some more. I've allready got a bit of a hobo's beard going. (Similar to a "Vlade Beard")

Since I've become homeless, it dawned upon me that I now have a free ticket to make fun of homeless people. It's similar to the way Irish people can make fun of other Irish people. So, now whenever I tell a homeless joke that's in rather poor taste I can say, "It's ok, I'm homeless."

Since I'm homeless not because of a lack of money, this could be my opportunity to become a major force in the homeless society. Since I have money, I could probably pay some homeless guys to be my minions. I've always wanted minions. I could be the Godfather of a homeless mafia.

Well, needless to say my luck has gone into the shitter recently. Aside from all of the health problems I "pouty-babied" about in the previous post, I almost got eaten by a fucking shark at the North Shore a few weeks ago and I have witnesses. Remind me to tell you about that another time.

Shit.

I was debating on shutting this thing down forever, but I have new developments that will probably get some laughs from all of you. About a month ago, my pig of a landlord informed me that I had to leave because his cunt of a daughter wanted to move back in. Oh well, I thought. Little did I know that there is a severe shortage of housing here in Honolulu. After one month of looking, I came "home" this morning to find fatass moving my shit out of my room and putting out in the "lawn". Did I fail to mention that it was also raining out? Just minor details. I was supposed to have until August 1, but what's a couple of days? So, as of about 2 hours ago, I am homeless. With all of my friends recently graduated and moved away, I don't even have a place to crash for a couple of days either. So, I plan to live here in my cubicle at school until I find a place. Actually, it's more like IF I find a place. The housing situations is horrible right now and it's only going to get worse in August. I thought about living on the beach, but there are a lot of hobos out by the beach and I don't want to get attacked/raped. I find myself with three options:

1. Wait it out and try to find a place.
2. Live here at school.
3. Say "Fuck it" and go back to NY.

I'm leaving it up to you. I will open the poles for an undisclosed amount of time and let you, the people, decide what I should do. Most of my decisions thus far have proved to be the wrong ones, so I'll let you all decide. I'm at the point where I just don't give a shit anymore. I'm stressed out, I have an ulcer, I've lost 10 pounds, I have no income for at least another month, I have no home, my thesis is going nowhere...etc. I only want serious votes. Anonymous votes will not be counted. Vote Now!

Last week five guys kidnapped a girl, raped her and dropped her off at her dorm. The five guys were described as white guys in their early 20’s, wearing baseball caps. I thought it was nice of them to give her a ride home afterward.

I thought it was funny until I learned that the kidnapping/rape took place about two blocks from my house. Now everywhere I go people look at me as if I was one of the rapists. Although I do fit the physical description, it would also mean that I have four other white male friends with whom to commit the rape with. I don’t have four white male friends out here. Shit, I don’t even have four friends.

Besides, being known as a rapist defeats the entire purpose of committing a rape. Where is the fun in rape if everyone knows you’re doing it? I don’t want to be known as a possible rape suspect. That’s all I need right now is something that’s going to make it even more difficult for me to get laid. After all of this, rape might be the only option left open to me. How crazy would it be if five guys rape a girl, therefore leaving rape as the only option left for an “innocent” man to get laid? It is all part of an ongoing rape cycle.

I think we all know a girl or two that if she was raped, we wouldn’t feel all that bad about it. Not because she’s hot or anything like that (although it helps), but just to take her down a peg or two. Case in point: The day after the rape a bunch of femi-nazi chicks got together and held a protest against rape here on campus. There were hiking boots and hairy armpits everywhere. They held signs stating “No Rape” and “Knock it off or cut it off”. Wow, chicks are against rape? Thanks for clearing that up for us. I had no idea.

Thank God Terri Shiavo finally crapped out. Was anyone else sick and tired of being constantly bombarded with Shiavo crap? I’m glad the Pope died when he did. It gave the fucking media something else to obsess about.

Why were people so desperate to save that vegetated retard? What purpose would her remaining “alive” serve? When it comes to the point where you can’t feed yourself or control your own bowels, the game is pretty much over. (I’m looking at you, Joey.) Even an infant knows how to suck on a nipple. Some old people can’t help but shit themselves, but at least they are aware of the fact that they are shitting themselves. Shiavo was aware of nothing.

Her responding to people in the room is a load of crap too. Where’s the proof? She tried to say, “I want to live”. Bullshit! How do we know? Maybe she was trying to say, “I want Taco Bell” or “Pull my finger”. Or perhaps, just perhaps, she wasn’t trying to say anything at all because her brain worked about as well as Slim’s thyroid gland.

I’m interested in knowing how she was supposedly responding to people. Breaking News: “Terri Shiavo flatulated and starting drooling on herself when her parents entered her room. These actions substantiate a response by Shiavo to her family’s presence. According to her parents, this is normal behavior when they enter the room.” Give me a fucking break! If they really wanted to know if she’s responsive, they would have started beating her with a rubber hose to see if she starts squealing. THUMP, THUMP! “Well, she’s not making any noise. Rip that damn tube out of her.”

She probably didn’t want a feeding tube in her at all anyway. The whole reason she became a veggie-tard was because she was anorexic. If she was aware of anything, maybe she might have felt that she was getting too fat. They did her a favor by pulling that damn tube out. Don’t want her putting on too much weight.

What makes her so goddamn special anyway? Not “special” as in retarded, she had plenty of that. I mean special as in needing 24/7 media coverage on EVERY FUCKING CHANNEL! What separates her from all the other veggie-tards? I guess the Jesus-people had decided that it had been about an hour since they pissed off everyone and needed a new poster-child for their belief that worthless people should be kept alive. If I had been a veggie-tard, would there have been a long, drawn out legal battle to keep me alive? Hell, no! There would have been a long, drawn out legal battle over who had the honors of pulling my plug.

My Mom: (Ripping out tubes) “I brought him in this world and I’m removing him from it.”
My Dad: (Holding a pillow) “Yeah, this should work.”
Brother & Sisters: (Holding weapons) “Hey, we got a say in this too!”

It took Terri Shiavo 13 days to die once the feeding tube was removed. It should not have taken her 13 fucking days to die if she’s not getting food or water. Someone had to be sneaking some water to her. If so, they should be put to death. Without water, it should take some 2-3 days to crap out, tops. Ok, maybe if someone was a vegetable it might take a little longer, but 13 days?! Christ. I get thirsty after a couple hours. Was anyone watching her after they took the tube out? Sneaky little fuckers, aren’t they? Thanks for prolonging my rage for another two weeks by sneaking her some water. I really appreciate it.

Imagine being married to that for 15 years. What would you do if you got horny? Is it considered rape when the victim is brain-dead? It’s not like she could say “no” to you. If vegetated, brain-dead chicks happen to be your fetish, go for it. She won’t tell the cops.

“Hey baby, how about tonight?”
(Drooling & flatulance)
“See, two farts means yes.”

It is too bad Delahola wasn’t her father instead of that guy who kind of looks like Greg. He would have known exactly what to do. “She’s brain-dead. Ahh, let her die. I ain’t bringing her out of no coma.”

Believe it or not, the subject of consuming feces was actually brought up today in my endocrinology class. Even more unbelievable is the fact that I wasn’t the one who brought it up. Diabetics have much higher levels of glucose in their feces than normal people, apparently giving their feces a sweeter taste. (Compared to what?!) It was nice being able to contribute to the class discussion for once in my life. I made a comment that “Cocoa Puffs” was actually diabetic poop, grossing out everyone in the room, therefore “soxing” the discussion. I should ask Greg if this is actually true. I’m sure he’d know. Isn’t biology wonderful?

Coming soon....Terri Shiavo post. I hope you will all be as excited to read it as I am to write it.

The story I’m about to tell you has to be one of the most bizarre series of events to ever happen to me. I’ll start out by telling you that I watch too much “Seinfeld”. I say this because I’ve gotten into the habit of taking naps on the floor underneath my desk the same way George does in the show. The reason I sleep under my desk is because my boss now routinely patrols the lobby to make sure I’m not sleeping on one of the couches. I get tired during the day and will generally lay down for about an hour. It doesn’t affect my work, since I stay later to make up the lost time, so I don’t see what the big deal is. Anyways, since I can’t sleep on the couch in the lobby, I sleep under my desk where he doesn’t know to look, at least not yet.

I must also mention that the guy in the cubicle next to mine has the most random taste in music. He was listening to the “Pulp Fiction” soundtrack while the events I’m about to describe were taking place.

I was napping under my desk as usual, when the song from the homosexual rape scene in “Pulp Fiction” began playing on my neighbor’s CD player. During the song I heard my boss asking someone, “Have you seen Drew around?” My boss then proceeded to walk into my cubicle looking for me. The front of my desk faces the entrance to my cubicle, so I was well protected by the front panel of my desk, which is about 3-4 inches off the ground. Peering out from the 3-4 inch space, I could see my boss from about the middle of his shins downward. At this time I am compelled to mention that my boss usually wears khaki pants. In fact, I had never seen him in anything but khaki pants. Today he decided to wear shorts. I had not seen him yet today, so I was unaware of the fact that he wore shorts.

Try to look at this from my point of view. I’m stuck under my desk in a compromising position, while a song made famous by a homosexual rape scene is playing. Add to this that from my view, under my desk, it appeared as if my boss was not wearing any pants. I was a little concerned and disturbed.

Thankfully he did not see me under my desk. He wrote me a note asking me to come see him and then he left. It took me quite some time to work up the courage to go see him, when to my relief I saw that he was wearing shorts and the only reason he wanted to see me was so that I could go make some copies for him. I’ve decided not to sleep under my desk anymore, just in case.

Johnnie Cochran died yesterday. Who would have guessed that Satan would have wanted that favor repaid so soon? The “superstar” lawyer, famous for his “if it doesn’t fit, you must acquit” and “Chewbacca” defenses, died because of a brain tumor. A fucking brain tumor! The O.J. trial makes so much more sense to me now! Only a guy with a defective brain would have argued that case the way he did. What’s even sadder is that he won. Anyways, let’s check the Black vs. White score now that Johnnie’s in hell.

Rodney King Verdict: (Whites 1, Blacks 0)
L.A. Riots/Reginald Denny Pummeling: (Whites 1, Blacks 1)
O.J. Verdict: (Whites 1, Blacks 2)
Robert Blake Verdict: (Whites 2, Blacks 2)
Michael Jackson Molesting Macaulay Culkin: (Whites 3, Blacks 3) (everyone wins. AAAHHHHH!!)
Johnnie Cochran dead: (Whites 4, Blacks 3)

There you have it! With Cochran dead, the whites have once again regained the lead in the “Battle of the Races”. Between this and Robert Blake, the Whites are rolling out of March and into April with the momentum in their favor. The Blacks need to make some moves if they want to stay in this contest. Come on Blacks! Don’t get lazy on us! Let’s see another riot, perhaps one honoring the memory of Mr. Cochran. I think it would only be appropriate.

P.S. Robert Blake is my new favorite celebrity. The guy just looks so evil! Only in America would a guy that looks so obviously guilty be set free. I mean, he just reeks of guilt. I bet when I die and go to hell, Satan’s accountant will look like Robert Blake. Rob’s not a very large person, or I’d make him Satan himself. I can’t wait for the Robert Blake parodies.

Chewbacca’s been bitching about all the “drama” in her life. Let me just start out by saying that I hate people who use the word “drama” to describe their lives. “Drama” is a word reserved for TV people and theatre fags. If I recall, Chewbacca is a “Star Wars” character, so maybe she’d be better bitching about all the “science fiction” in her life instead of drama. Actually, I think I’m bitching about all the “science fiction” in my life right now, but that’s not the point. Most of the people I’ve met who use the word “drama” are from California, so I pretty much assumed they were retarded anyways. My assumptions usually prove to be true.

Anyways, back to Chewbacca. Apparently she’s been chasing some local idiot on the baseball team. She had him over one night a while back. He hasn’t called her since. Ever since then she won’t shut the fuck up about this guy. He isn’t calling? Guess what?! He’s not going to call! Give it up. Now the wookie goes to all the baseball games, calls him constantly and is pretty much stalking the guy. All I ever hear from this “girl” is “Oh, I want a boyfriend. I want a boyfriend.” You do? Guess what? I want to fuck every other piece of gook tail that crosses the path, but I don’t announce it every goddamn day. That would provide evidence for a motive in case “the man” ever catches me fleeing the crime scene after a “date”.

Oh, it gets better. I overheard Chewbacca and her friends yammering one night. No, overheard isn’t the right word. I involuntarily eavesdropped on their conversation. I say involuntarily because it was 3am, but I was awake because of ALL THE FUCKING NOISE! She claims she didn’t have sex with the guy, but now he is telling the rest of the baseball team that he did. Chewy and her friend were saying, “How could he do this?” The whole time I’m thinking, “Why would he do this?” Why would you be publicly declaring this? What the fuck is wrong with this guy? Then I found out who the guy is, he’s a Hawaiian named “Rocky”. I’m sure this guy defies every stereotype buzzing through my head right now and has an IQ of 180.

Seriously, why would you claim something like that? Don’t get me confused, I’m not objecting to Rocky’s actions because of some moral or ethical belief. It’s just that Chewbacca’s so nasty. What the fuck is wrong with baseball players? It is clear that something happened in the “wookie cave” that night he came over. I realize that when you’re drunk, a hole is a hole, but don’t be bringing that shit into public conversation. Keep it behind closed doors where it belongs. Fucking Chewbacca should remain strictly top secret until the day you die.

One more thing, Chewbacca, give it up already! Your skull must be as thick as your ass. He isn’t coming back! Please, please stop talking about this guy. In fact, just shut the fuck up for good. The next time you try telling something of your “Sex life” (**shudders**), I’ll put laxative in all your drinks. I don’t need to be hearing that shit. Unless you want every bowel movement I take described to you in full detail, with illustrations and some fine acting, I suggest you stop talking to me altogether. Remember when you first moved in and were afraid to talk to me? Can’t we go back to that? Wasn’t that nice?

It looks as if the Pope’s about to crap out soon and it is time we start thinking about a replacement. Now, there’s no doubt in my mind that I would be perfect for the job. Let’s review:

The Pope’s job is to serve as head of the Catholic Church and, therefore, piss off a lot of people. I’m Catholic and I’m great at pissing off people. I can get up early on Sunday and give the weekly obscenity….Uh, I mean blessing. I’ll even give the football scores too. (Yeah, I stole that last line from Carlin.)

Part of the Pope’s job is to wear goofy looking clothing and hats. Not a problem. I have the fashion sense of a retarded man, so I’ll fit right in. As for the hat, I’ve always enjoyed stupid hats. Dumpy hats, Jim Brown Hats, a cheese-head, you name it, I’ll wear it.

The downside to being Pope will be that I don’t get to have sex. This will obviously be a huge change in lifestyle for me, but I’ll have to do my best to adjust. Fuck, who am I kidding? I’m probably the one person who would get laid MORE after becoming Pope then before.

My first act as Pope, and this shouldn’t surprise anyone, will be to change the title from Pope to Poop. We need to bring a little humor to religion. “His Holiness Poop ***insert name***”. I think we need to do something about the names too. No more Johns, Pauls or Peters. (Actually Peter is ok. Poop Peter has a funny ring to it.) When I look at the list of previous Popes, it reminds me of a West Virginia Family Tree; not a whole lot of variation.

In conclusion, I am hereby announcing my candidacy for Pope in 2005. With your support, I can help bring the Catholic Church out of the Dark Ages and into the 17th century. (Can’t ask too much at once) Now all that’s left is to go lay down on the couch and wait for the Catholic Church to call, begging me to be the Next Pope, soon to be Poop.

I am writing to inform all of you that you do not need to spaz out over every little thing. Unclench your asshole a little bit and relax. For fuck’s sake, you people are making me look mellow. Just calm the fuck down a little. For example, if you leave a test tube on the other side of the room, calmly walk over to the other side of the room and get it. No running across the room, bumping into everything and everyone is needed.

While on a sidewalk, there is no need to run as fast as you can, coming closer and closer to running into me. Have you guys been noticing that I’ve been trying to trip you? I’m out for a relaxing walk and you guys act like you just saw the “Enola Gay” flying overhead. Not everything is life and death.

You’ll also find it’s much easier to talk if you calm down. There’s not always a need to speak 150 mph, stuttering and repeating every other word. By the way, I’m not five years old; I don’t need everything repeated to me six times. Do you gooks have any idea how much that pisses me off? If I need something repeated, I will ask you to repeat it. Haven’t you guys been wondering why I just leave during the middle of conversations?

I must also ask, that when speaking to me, please use English. Look at my eyes, do I look like I understand Chinese or whatever the hell language you use? Every once in a while I like to walk into a store and speak only in Spanish, just to piss you off. You don’t like it when someone uses a language other than gook, so you can now understand why I get annoyed when you use that “ching-chong-chin” crap when speaking to me.

In summary, before you all start bitching about how intolerant I am, take a good long look at yourself first. I am actually a very tolerant person if you don’t piss me off. I think we can all compromise and learn to live in peace. If not, I swear I’ll ethnically cleanse this whole fucking island.


Sincerely,

Pissed off white guy on the couch

Did anyone else watch "Sportscenter" last night? If you did I hope you were lucky enough to see the clip of the male cheerleader from "Ball State" shoving hot dogs in his mouth as part of the halftime festivities. I don't think I need a punchline for this one, the joke practically writes itself.

I haven't posted nearly as much as I'd like and, sorry to dissappoint you, I got nothing for today either. I've got some works in progress that will be up in a day or two, so stay tuned.

I love these imbeciles who like to go around finding things that look like famous people. It seems about every month or so there’s some moron out there that finds something that looks like the Virgin Mary. Jeez, for a virgin, Mary sure gets around. Another thing, how do we know she’s still a virgin? It’s been two thousand some odd years and she’s still hanging on to it? I don’t think so!

Anyways, people are always finding stupid shit that looks like people. Food items seem to be the majority of this shit. My favorite was the sheep out in the Middle East that had “God” written in its wool. How do you think that sheep felt when those camel-fuckers found an excuse to strap a bomb to it? “It’s the God-sheep, let’s strap a bomb to it!” Baa……BOOM!

People are always finding stupid shit like that: Food, animals, plants, buildings, mountains and shadows. You know what you never see people bringing forward? Bowel movements. You never see anyone bring a turd forward saying it looks like Courtney Love. Well, it might smell like Courtney Love, but I think bowel movements would be confined to looking like people of color. I think if people took a little closer look before flushing, they’d find all kinds of famous faces in their feces. Just the other day I took a dump that looked like Webster. There was one slight difference though. I ate corn the night before, so it looked like Webster had gold teeth. But other than that, the likeness was uncanny.

***I must appologize for the material in this post. Many of you have been waiting for this. I'm not appologizing for it's offensive, quite the opposite in fact. I don't think I made this nearly offensive enough. Anyways, perhaps I'm setting my standards too high. I'll let you be the judge.***

Well God, after months of praying, you finally gave me the tsunami I’ve been asking for. However, like a retard, you sent it in the wrong direction. I got all excited when I heard that a tsunami was pounding East Asia, thinking a wave might be heading my way, until I heard it originated in the Indian Ocean. I thought that flood you sent us a few months ago was just a warm up for a possible tsunami. If that little flood caused so much damage out here, imagine what a tsunami would do. Thanks for getting my hopes up God, you cockeyed bastard. Next time do a little geographical research and send that wave to the right side of the globe instead of the left. You already got me douched in a river of urine and feces, so you may as well douche the rest of the island too.

Just the thought of thousands of Hawaiians and Japanese getting swept out to sea by a giant tsunami wave makes me smile. A tsunami would also give little Joey a fitting death, cause if a bunch of Indonesians in fishing boats got fucked by that wave, a little dog trying to paddle to shore doesn’t have a prayer.

Stoney McCoke is convinced that this is the end of the world. The years of drug and alcohol abuse have finally swept away the few remaining brain cells she had left. It’s funny, every time there’s a natural disaster anywhere, no matter how minor, she’s convinced that the world is coming to an end. Frankly, I’m getting a little tired of that crazy bitch telling me to repent my sins every goddamn time the sewers overflow, spewing urine and feces into the streets, and they overflow quite often here.

And another thing, while in the hell should I donate my hard earned money to tsunami relief? Forget the fact that half the money doesn’t get there anyways, but how can I be sure that the people who get the relief money are actually going to spend it on food or shelter. How do we know they’re not going to Indonesian strip clubs or Sri Lankan whorehouses? If I survived a giant disaster like that, that’s the first place I’d go. After watching thousands of my fellow countrymen die horrible deaths, I sure could go for a lap dance and a knob-shine. We should be sending these people booze and drugs to keep them as far away from reality as possible. I mean, half of these people are going to die from disease anyway, we may as well let them enjoy their last few moments of life. Most of the aid workers over there are bible thumpers too, which I’m sure just adds to everyone’s feeling of depression and sadness. Let them have fun. It’s time we started looking on the bright side of natural disasters.

Speaking of bible thumpers, I just can’t understand their logic. They’re out there telling these people to have faith and to pray to God for salvation and relief and that he loves them. I’m sorry, but if what the bible says is true, didn’t God cause that tsunami in the first place? Pray to God? I’d be fucking pissed at that bastard. How do we know he’s not up in heaven right now laughing his ass off? I would be. I guess God must have loved people so much that he just felt the need to wipe out a few hundred thousand of them. Makes sense to me. Pray to God: a retarded plan from retarded people. I hope some of these people catch on fire. Then I guess they’ll have to pray for some rain.

Now the big thing is that everyone’s complaining that the United States hasn’t sent enough money and what we did send came late. What a bunch of ungrateful little fuckers! They should be lucky they’re getting anything at all. We send over millions and millions of dollars, and like a bunch of crackheads, they want more. Just because they went through a natural disaster, they think that gives them the right to be assholes. Whatever happened to just being thankful for what you get? They’re lucky we’re sending anything. Well, ok, not we…..I’m not sending anything. They’re lucky that you, the American public is sending anything. If I were in charge, listening to all this bitching and moaning, I’d say, “Haha, now you ain’t got none! I’m sending that money to Iraq. I’ll use money intended to help people and use it to kill people.”

Those of you that were priveledged to read some of my early work back in high school may remember this rant. I was feeling nostalgic and decided to go back into the archives, back when I just wrote about shit that I found funny or stupid. This was before I entered my “brown period” and found my true calling, writing about bowel movements and bowel-related hijinks. This particular piece is about the Snuggles Bear and his pedophilic traits. It’s been edited a bit and I’ve added some new stuff to it, but the concept is the same. Enjoy.

There are a lot of things on TV that are pissing me off. One such thing is the Snuggles Bear. What kind of message are we sending our kids with this fucking bear? A high-pitched faggot-bitch of a bear rolling around in a bed with kids, giggling and laughing. There is no doubt in my mind that this bear is a child molester. Little boys are growing up thinking that it’s ok to hug and get into pillow fights with guys with soft bed sheets who have high-pitched voices. Isn’t it about time that this bear gets put away for sodomy. I’d like to see the Snuggles Bear in prison. Playtime is over for you bear. Let him do the laundry in jail. Let’s see if the inmates are as appreciative as the kids when it comes to soft, snuggly bed sheets. After the first couple of gang rapes, maybe Mr. Snuggles will learn to keep his hands off the fucking kids. Lets see him try to get rectal blood out of white sheets. We all know he can molest kids, let’s see how good he is at tossing salad.

Once the Snuggles Bear is safely behind bars, the good people who bring Snuggles Fabric Softener are going to need a new mascot/marketing gimmick. For me, the decision is easy: Michael Jackson. Now many of you are probably wondering why I’m willing to replace one fucked up child molester with an even more fucked up child molester. There are three reasons. One: I just don’t like the Snuggles Bear. I’d love to hear about the Snuggles Bear getting raped and killed in prison. Two: I really don’t give a shit about the children. Fuck ‘em! Three: Michael Jackson as the Snuggles spokesman will be a lot funnier. Just picture Michael Jackson laying in a bed with young boys talking about how soft and cuddly his bed sheets are. Besides, he won’t fuck kids up any worse than the Snuggles Bear. Think about it, everyone KNOWS that Michael Jackson is a fucked up kiddie raper. We all expect this kind of behavior from him. Not everyone knows about the Snuggles Bear.

If you’re a young boy and you show up to shoot a commercial with Michael Jackson, you’re going to be expecting a little molesting. You’ll have time to build your mental defenses. If you’re doing a commercial with a fucking stuffed bear, you’re not nessecarily expecting to be sodomized. One minute you’re having a pillow fight with him, the next minute he’s tea bagging you with his fuzzy little bear ball-sac. You’ve had no time to prepare for it, so it’s going to fuck you up for life. We’ll actually be helping these kids by letting Michael Jackson play “hide the pinky” with them.

Michael Jackson treats the kids a lot better too. The Snuggles Bear’s a little whore. He’ll finish his molesting, look at his watch and say, “Oh, look at the time. I better get going. I promise I’ll call”. He doesn’t call, he just uses little kids for his sick fantasies. Jacko’s got the Neverland Ranch. He knows how to show a kid a good time. He’ll wine and dine you first. A molested child feels much more appreciated with Michael Jackson than he/she would with the Snuggles Bear. I figure if a child’s got to be molested, it may as well be molested by someone who will appreciate him/her afterwards.

I’m sure many of you are familiar with the concept of a “grabby fat man”. For those of you unfamiliar, allow me to explain. A grabby fat man is simply, as the term describes, an obese man that likes to grab at everything. Slim is the textbook definition of a grabby fat man. A few readers may remember back to our days in high school in which anything placed within three feet of Slim disappeared.

You see, grabby fat men like Slim have heightened upper body reflexes. This is in order to compensate for their lack of locomotive ability due to their extreme girth. Since they don’t move very well, they evolved extremely quick arm reflexes in order to grab prey as it runs or flies by. Grabby fat men feed by ambush. Their arms must be quick in order to grab at animals or small children because of their inability to give chase.

I am becoming increasingly aware that being fat and grabby isn’t limited to the male gender. Recently, an apple was assigned to share my cubicle with me. I figured it was no big deal; I can ignore people with relative ease. She’s decided to be friendly in order to establish her grabbiness. She coaxed me into a conversation and when I let my guard down, BAM, she had my cd case in her hands! It’s been 3 days and I’ve lost a can of cashews, several packages of cheese crackers, an apple (I swear I’m not making this up), my Donald Duck PEZ dispenser and two cds. I can’t afford to sustain these losses. She claims she’ll return the cds, but I’m not buying it. I’ve been around long enough to know that when a grabby fat person grabs something, it’s gone.

I planned to counterattack today, but she doesn’t have shit at her desk. No food (Big shock!), no toys, no cds, not even a goddamn pen. Jesus Christ, when they get something in their grip, they don’t let go, ever! I then decided it was best I go on the defensive. Anything of any value to me has been removed and locked up, including my Spiderman action figure and the picture of Pete Rose I cut out of the paper and drew devil horns on. I’m prepared to begin negotiations for the return of my cds and Donald Duck. I’m hoping to buy her off with food. I’ve realized that if I get involved in a grabbing war, I’d get my ass kicked. I think a negotiated settlement is the only option I have left.

There is something weird about the toilets here at school. Ever since Christmas I’ve noticed that when flushed, the toilet’s contents are sucked down with much more force than before. This became apparent to me while I was crapping. I finished my poop and flushed while still sitting on the toilet and I thought the damn thing was going to rip my genitals off. Let’s face it, my genitals are purely decorative anyways, but I’d hate to lose them while shitting.

Later on in the week I pooped again. This time the building was a little more populated than before, so in a rare display of common decency I decided to perform a courtesy flush. The moment my poop was beyond the point of no return I flushed. The force of the swirling toilet water caught the tip of my poop, sucking the rest of the poop out of my anus in a quick paced manner that I found quite uncomfortable. Maybe Volk can explain the Physics to me, but this can’t be normal. It was almost like reverse rape. That toilet literally tore the feces away from me before I was ready to give it up. I was robbed of an extra 2-3 seconds of pooping fun. I feel so violated. Do you think I will be laughed at if I called a rape crisis center and explained the situation to them?

I guess after seeing hours upon hours of television time devoted to celebrating the life of recently crapped out Johnny Carson on every other TV channel in America, the local Hawaiian news stations decided to jump on the bandwagon. I was watching a game of spookball the day he died and during the commercial break one of the local talking heads came on to announce that at six and eleven o’clock, they were going to interview an “A-list Hollywood celebrity” on the life of Johnny Carson.

I already knew about a celebrity charity event in the area, since everyone here cums in their pants whenever someone mentions the word “celebrity”. I was expecting an actual “A-list” celebrity, only to be disappointed. The famous “A-list celebrity” turned out to be none other than Patrick Duffy. That’s right, Patrick-fucking-Duffy. Now I’m not denying the fact that Mr. Duffy has had a successful career, but an “A-list celebrity”? I don’t think Patrick Duffy has ever been considered an “A-list celebrity”. In fact, has that son of a bitch even had any work since that God-awful “Step By Step” show was mercifully taken off the air? What’s even sadder is that the celebrity charity event couldn’t pull in anyone bigger than Patrick Duffy?

Now I know that Duffy had some dealings with Mr. Carson in the past, but I still don’t think they should be advertising him as an “A-list celebrity”. If he’s an A-lister, I should be at least a “B-list” celebrity out here for my moving, but obscene work in the Great Hawaiian Flood of 2004 in which I let loose every profanity I knew in front of a news camera. I am disappointed in the Hawaiian news people for having such a distorted view as to how famous people are. However, I am impressed with the fact that they were able to find someone as obscure as Patrick Duffy, and I’m sure he was happy just to be on TV again.

I’m sure some of you may remember the chick that got her arm eaten by a shark a while back. I think her name is Bethany something or other. (I’m too lazy to look it up) She appeared on Leno and Letterman and all that other crap. I remember posting about her before. I’m too lazy to look it up but I’m sure it was along the lines of me applauding the shark on his culinary habits.

Anyways, she’s back on TV here in Hawaii in the form of a commercial. It shows her surfing with her stump and talking about living drug free or maybe about how disabled people are just as good as abled people. I tune out when she starts talking. The point I’m trying to make is that I want her commercial banned from TV on the grounds that I find it offensive.

I believe that her commercial is offensive to people that still have both of their arms. The bitch in the commercial makes it look as if you can’t have fun with both arms. I guess it’s not “cool” to have four limbs. If all the bible thumpers can get commercials banned for showing a little skin, why can’t I get a commercial banned for showing a lot of stump?! I haven’t even mentioned the fact that the stump is creepy to look at. It’s almost as creepy as seeing a “stumped” chick surfing with a stump.

Now I realize that everyone, except for maybe Dave thinks I’m being a total asshole right now and you’re probably right. I’m willing to compromise. I’ll stop whining if they make a few alterations. First of all, I want to see some more quadruple limbed people in the commercial. There should be a quota for a minimum number of normal people on TV. As it stands right now, there are no normal people in the commercial, just a chick with a creepy stump.

Secondly, let’s have a little fun with the commercial. I think many more people would respond if when the commercial shows the chick surfing, they ought to have a dorsal fin in the background, closing fast. Maybe throw in a little montage of her looking over her shoulder in fear mixed in with shots of a shark chewing on a seal or a baby. This might be tough with copyright laws, but couldn’t we use the theme music to “Jaws” in this somewhere. The commercial could end on the beach with her chasing that hand from “The Addams Family”.

Well, I think I’ve been neglecting “Rape & Pillage” for long enough. It didn’t start out as intentional neglect, but like with an abusive father, it just became habit. I think I’ll start by updating you all on what’s happened to me in the past few months. Back in October, there was a massive thunderstorm. I, of course, was at work with it being a Saturday night. I finished work and was walking to the outer parking lot, only to see that the street I needed to cross was a 4-foot deep river, with water rushing at high speeds. How powerful was the current? Well, the next morning there were cars in trees.

Whenever you see flood footage from the Midwest or the South, do you ever notice that there’s some dumbass out in the middle of it all, trying to ford the current? Well, it was my turn to be that dumbass. I didn’t try to cross, I wasn’t that stupid. There’s a park on that street with a fence running along the sidewalk. This fence was catching a lot of the debris in the water, thus blocking much of the current. I decided that I could walk along this fence in relative safety until the water level was low enough for me to cross. All went well until I was about 50 feet from my destination and saw that about a 20 foot section of the fence was broken down. At this point the water was only about 2 feet deep, but still rushing fast.

On the other side of the street were four Manoa Firefighters around an abandoned car, one of which was holding a rope. Since I was stuck with nowhere to go, I signaled them to throw me the rope. They replied by waving to me. I signaled and yelled several times for them to throw me the rope, but they just stood there and did nothing. Manoa’s finest my ass!

Since those assholes obviously were not interested in doing their job, I decided to try to cross where the fence was down. Now that I look back, this was probably one of the most retarded things I have ever done and, believe me; I’ve done plenty of retarded things. I got about halfway across, barely able to keep my balance. Things were looking good, until a log came rushing down in the water, hit me right across my shins causing me to fall and getting blown back about 20 feet. It wouldn’t have been too bad if it weren’t for the fact that the water was dragging me across the park’s parking lot. After scraping the shit out of my knees I regained my footing only to hear “You ok?” from the stupid ass firefighters.

At this point, the amount of water rushing through the street was miniscule compared to the amount of profanity spewing from my mouth. In fact, I didn’t even notice the two local fuckers filming the whole episode with their camcorder. I walked home swearing and bleeding all over myself. Apparently that footage made the news. I didn’t actually see it, but several people told me about it. In order to air that footage the station would have had to either not use the sound or “bleep” every other word coming out of my mouth. I hope they used the “bleeped” version. I’ve always wanted to be “bleeped” on TV.

Two days later I noticed that my ear was really starting to hurt. I went to the Health Center and they told me I had swimmer’s ear and gave me medicine. Two days later the entire right side of my face was swollen and my ear was plugged and hurt like hell. I went to the emergency room and found out that I had an inner, middle and outer ear infection. I was given antibiotics and, mercifully, some Vicoden. It took another week and a half for my ear to heal, but not before I lost about 50% of my hearing ability in my right ear. It’s been several months and my hearing hasn’t returned to normal, so I can only assume that the loss is permanent.

Looking back, this isn’t one of the more retarded things I’ve ever done because of the water rushing at high speeds, but because of what was probably in the water. I had momentarily forgotten that when it rains here, the sewers tend to overflow. So I was most likely wading through all types of urine and feces. I was literally swept away by a river of piss and shit. What’s worse is that it was the same urine and feces that probably caused my ear infection. Fecal particles literally got into my ear and made themselves at home. Technically, would that make me a “shit for brains”? After all that, all I could think was that this would only happen to me.

I also realize that bitching about a relativley minor flood after much of Asia was ravaged by a giant tsunami is quite petty and pouty baby of me. I also realize that many of you are waiting for me to make my inevitably offensive comments about the tsunami. I'm back to say never fear. Just be patient a little longer. It's coming.

I’ve had the whole cold/flu combination lately. I’ve been hacking and vomiting for a day or two, and it’s really starting to interfere with my pooping schedule. I’m normally pitching 1-2 loaves a day. However, since I’ve been sick, I’ve been shooting chunky-style brown gravy out of my anus 3-4 times a day.

It’s just not fun to shit while one is ill. Pooping used to be fun. I would take my time, making sure the smell can diffuse all throughout the room and maybe percolate out into the hallway a little to provide nasal-sinus fun for all in the building. I can’t even fart in the elevator anymore, due to the fear I’ll end up with a fecal blast pattern in my boxers. Every morning I used to let loose a really rancid bodily emission as I left the elevator, a lingering odor that would sometimes last for several hours. I was so proud.

When I get sick, my bowels ache. When pooping involves pain, I’m usually not interested. It especially sucks when I cough halfway through a bowel movement, propelling the feces out in a jet stream-like fashion, coating the inside of the bowel with a foul brown ooze. Let’s not forget the gas that shoots out along with the feces. Not just regular farts either, these are rapid-fire farts. It sounds like someone stuck a bunch of firecrackers up my ass and lit the fuse.

What’s worse is that I can’t control it, at least not in a sitting position. Were anyone to walk in while this is going on, they would probably think I was being drained to death. It has to sound like all of my bodily fluids were being sucked out of my ass and all that would be left would be my dried, shriveled prune of a corpse. I’m tired of being sick, I want my pooping fun back. Enjoy your dinner.

Well, we’ve been listening to this election shit for several months now, and it’s really starting to get old. Listening to these politicians piss and moan, whoring themselves out to the American public like prostitutes of public policy makes me laugh. They’re each trying to blame each other for all the crap that’s going on in this country. Picking a candidate to vote for is like being asked by a proctologist which finger I'd like him to use.

People act so surprised the Bush lied. I think I may have been the only person in this country that wasn’t surprised. A president that lies, that so unprecedented! Name me one president that didn’t lie. Nobody can. Presidents are supposed to lie! If there were an honest candidate, we wouldn’t elect because we’d think he was lying! Everybody lies: presidents, senators…all of them. Bush lies, Kerry lies…deal with it. I expect lies from my public officials. I think the better they are at lying, the better president they would be. The whole campaign process should involve the candidates bragging about all the lies they got away with. As far as I’m concerned, no one can even come close to Bush. He lied and drew us into a war. Anyone who can pull that off should be president for life.

Now that I’m bored with normal elections, I got a really good idea for a new form of election. I think we should elect a guy every year to receive the AIDS. It would start as local elections, with local assholes being nominated to represent their county. Eventually it would be narrowed down to 50 candidates, one from every state. At this point it would pretty much turn into something similar to the Miss America Pageant. Once it’s narrowed to two candidates, it would be turned over to a national election.

I think it would be hilarious to see guys campaign, attempting to convince the American people as to why he doesn’t deserve the AIDS. Eventually some really nasty candidates would run commercials as to why the OTHER guy deserves the AIDS instead of himself.

"This is Joe Blow, here to remind you NOT to vote for me
in the upcoming AIDS vote. My opponent, Faggy McDouche,
deserves AIDS far more than I do. Yes, he has kids, but that means
he’s already passed on his genes to future generations. Don’t forget,
he’s also black. I have no kids and I’m white, therefore I don’t deserve
AIDS. Remember, Vote McDouche for AIDS."

If you really want to see candidates sweating it out as Election Day approaches, this is perfect. Some guys are probably going to get hysterical as the day grows closer. You think Howard Dean went crazy? Just wait until some guy leading in the polls starts to realize he’s going to get AIDS. He’ll go crazy and start killing people. It’s going to be great!

I realize that my idea will never materialize into anything real. Americans have no sense of humor anymore. AIDS can be funny, and an AIDS election is one way to make AIDS funny. It can also take care of many of our voting problems. I bet you that voter turnout would double if a guy catching AIDS was at stake. Everybody would vote, the elderly, young and minorities. Speaking of minorities, we all know that blacks complain how they can never win a national election. Well, here’s their chance! I bet blacks would have the upper hand in an election of this type. It’s great for a whole country.

I have a few minor complaints that I think need to be brought out and since you don’t talk to me, I thought I’d put them into a letter. So, here goes……..

Chewbacca, I know you’re a wookie and wookies are quite hairy, but would it kill you to clean all the hair out of the sink in the morning? Every morning it looks as if you’ve been shaving a bunch of apes and leaving the hair in the sink. The same goes for the toilet. I don’t know how you get hair all over the toilet and I don’t want to know. I hope you don’t have 3-foot long hairs on your ass, but either way, please wipe the hair off the toilet. I clean the sink after I shave, all I’m asking is that you do the same.

Speaking of toilets, I must inform you that I have purchased the last 36 rolls of toilet paper. In fact, I’ve bought all the toilet paper since you’ve arrived. I know you use the toilet paper because I’ll put a fresh roll out in the morning and it will be half gone by the time I come home from school. I poop 2-3 times a day and don’t use half the toilet paper that you do. I don’t mind you using a lot of toilet paper as long as you buy some. I looked this morning, and we have approximately 3 rolls left, which means we’ll run out sometime tomorrow unless I eat Mexican food tonight. I suggest you buy toilet paper this time because if I have to buy it again, I’m going to keep in my room. That means you’ll have to ask me for toilet paper, and I know that speaking to me will embarrass the hell out of you. I don’t want a toilet paper war, but I’ll go to war if I have to.

Finally, I have only one more complaint and this is the big one. If your going to throw a party with 20 of your snob friends at our place, I’d like to be informed ahead of time. You’ve done this twice so far and to be quite honest, it really pissed me off. All you have to do is tell me; "I’m planning on having a few friends over, is that ok?" If you ask, I’ll say yes. I’m not going to deny your request. It just seems a little rude that you didn’t even bother telling me that you were going to have 20 drunken people over. The fact that you all ate approximately 80% of my food didn’t make me real happy either. If you fail to tell me ahead of time, I must inform you that the next time you pull this shit, I plan on walking around the apartment in my underwear. I’ll even make sure it’s the pair of underwear with the big hole in the crotch. If that happens, you can bet your wookie ass that none of your friends will want to come over again. I don’t mind you having people over, but I would like a little advance warning before people start coming over.

Before I end this, I’d like to let you know that I think we can still get along and live together in peace. I’ve attempted to be nice and polite, despite the fact that it goes against everything I believe in. However, if you continue to be an ass, nice Drew will be unable to continue to repress evil Drew. Evil Drew, as anyone who lived with me in the past can tell you, is capable of making your home-life a living hell. The last thing you would see before you go to bed and the first thing you see when you wake up will be me laying on the couch in my underwear expelling anal gasses. That’s only the beginning, and it can get far worse than that. I’ll end this by saying that my bowels are possibly the most potent weapon known to man, and I’m not afraid to use them.

Furiously yours,
The Guy on the Couch

I don't get the point of decorating meals right before someone eats them. I don't eat food because it looks pretty. I don't see how contrasting colors make a dish more palatable. You want a contrast in colors? It goes in as a rainbow-colored mosaic of food, but it always comes out brown, or maybe green. How's that for contrast? Bright, pretty colors to brown.

If people are going to decorate food before it goes in, they may as well decorate it after it comes out. How about some bright colored sauces to pour of you shit before you flush it down. Put some garnishes on the turd that really bring the brown hues in your poop. Maybe an olive with a toothpick in it to make the bowl look like a giant shit martini. Probably shouldn't flush it down just yet, the next person may want to admire your work.

People eat on fancy plates, why not crap into fancy bowls? How about a nice floral pattern on the inside of the bowl. It'll go real well when you have diarrhea, and it looks like a giant bowl of chili. You know what I would do? I'd paint the inside of the bowl to look like a guy's face, with the hole being the guy's mouth. If I'm going to decorate feces like food, it may as well look like someone's eating it too.

I'm just trying to emphasize that decorative foods are a waste of time and money. In the end, it all comes out looking and smelling the same. If your going to waste time and money decorating foods to make them look fancy, you may as well do the same with your feces.

I’ve thought up another one of my great ideas, this one for a children’s toy. Retard action figures. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this earlier! A huge line of fully pose-able retarded people action figures. I think this is something that our country is ready for.

The first edition action figure will be your typical Down’s syndrome ‘Tard. He or she (I’ll be PC and make female figures as well) will come complete with clothes that don’t match, as well as a plastic body with feces scratch and sniff technology. Located on it’s back will be a little string to pull in order to hear authentic retard phrases, as said by real retards. Every ‘Tard comes with it’s own cage to teach children the responsibility of feeding and caring for their own pet retard.

Remember when we were kids and certain toys came with slime? Weren’t those great?! "Fecal-fun ‘Tard" comes complete with his own container of brown slime for wallowing, eating or playing. "Fecal-Fun ‘Tard" is also equipped with feces throwing action for whipping turds at his owners. The brown slime even smells like real poo! Located on the backside of "Fecal-Fun ‘Tard" will be a small compartment to hold the slime. Load the ‘Tard with slime, squeeze him and watch the slime ooze out of his anus. It looks like he’s really pooping! Unbelievable!

There will be a wide variety of retard action figures, including "Retard-Strength ‘Tard", which has the ability to pick up and throw toys as much as 5 times it’s own weight. Let’s not forget "Dance-Party ‘Tard" which sings into a broken microphone and dances the "retard dance" when placed on a special display stand. Batteries not included. Let’s not forget "Compulsive Masturbator ‘Tard" with authentic masturbating action. "Compulsive Masturbator ‘Tard" also comes with a small container of poo-smelling brown slime.

There’s even a line of ’Tards action figures that come with "Transformer" heads. People can alter the facial configuration of their ’Tards action figures, ranging from mildly simple to a full-blown case of raging Down’s syndrome. You can change your ‘Tard from Rainman to Sloth with just a few simple twists and turns of it’s head.
I’d like to strike a deal with the people from "Starting Lineup", the makers of the sports action figures, to release a "Starting Lineup" line of special Olympians. We’ll capture the spirit of our retarded athletes forever with a new line of toys. Who wouldn’t want a toy of some goofy fucker in a retarded running pose? How about some deformed Corky taking a foul shot, or a mongoloid falling on his face after throwing a javelin? We need to honor the achievements of our retarded sports heroes.

No ‘Tards collection would be complete without the ‘Tards mini-bus and the ‘Tards Playtime Funhouse. The ‘Tards mini-bus comes complete with padded ejection seats equipped with arm and leg shackles to subdue rowdy ‘Tards. The best feature about the ‘Tards mini-bus is that it’s equipped with all the sounds you would hear on a typical retard bus, ranging from excessive retarded profanity to retarded whining and squealing. Your children will also have hours of fun playing with the ‘Tards Playtime Funhouse. This house has everything, from a padded room to an electric shock therapy treatment center that makes real retard sounds. There’s also cages that will hold up to 20 ‘Tards action figures. This house is a must own for every ‘Tards fan.

Apparently the people I rent from are the most ignorant and inept people alive. They’re still under the impression that I like Joey. I don’t know how. I think I’ve made it perfectly clear to everyone that I want that dog to die.

Jen made a post a little while back on how people who refer to themselves as "mommy" or "daddy" when it comes to their pets are stupid. This is exactly what these retards do. Apparently their stupidity knows no bounds. They’re starting to refer to me as "Uncle Drew" to their pets. I came home from school on Monday, pissed off as usual, only to hear my landlady, Stoney McCoke, yelling for Joey to "go see Uncle Drew". Joey, apparently forgetting for a few moments that I hate him, came running over to see me. It took every ounce of my self-control to keep from kicking that little fucker right in the chops. I did manage to scare him off with a few profanities I muttered quietly.

"Uncle Drew", are these people retarded or just doing this to piss me off? I am not that dog’s uncle. I’m not an uncle of any kind. When one of my sisters gets knocked up, then you can call me an uncle. Until then, don’t call me an uncle and never call me the uncle of a little flea-ridden rat-dog with bowel control issues. Besides, what kind of a nephew pisses all over his uncle’s possessions? The kind of nephew that’s going to get murdered by his so-called uncle, that’s what. Joey and his OWNERS, not parents, need to realize that "Uncle" Drew wants to kill Joey and will do so the moment an opportunity presents itself.

Dennis Franz with AIDS came by to see me yesterday. Of course, he had to bring that little flea-bag dog with him, but most of this tale doesn’t involve Joey. He came down to tell me that his water bill was simply "outrageous" for the past month. He then told me that I was expected to pay some of that bill since our showerhead leaks. Fucking asshole, I told him over two months ago that the damn thing leaked. I made that point clear during our conversation, but fuck-face said I needed to tighten the shower knobs. This is getting ridiculous. I asked how much he expected me to pay and he replied that it was approximately fifty dollars. Motherfucker! I’m sure the high water bill wasn’t due to his wife getting all coked up and watering every single plant on the property, inside and outside, on a daily basis. Besides, there’s no way in hell that the showerhead leaks enough water to account for an extra fifty dollars.

He wants a high water bill? I’m going start leaving the bathroom sink on at night after I go to bed. I’m going to flush the toilet six times every time I take a shit. I’m going to start masturbating in the shower, just to eat up some more time. I’m tired of this asshole trying to pass the blame on me every time his fucked up family acts like a bunch of retards and destroy everything.

I told him that I refused to pay, and he simply replied, "Well, there you go". There I go what?! What the fuck does that mean? Fucking pig! ***Insert long string of profanity here***

That’s ok, he may be trying to ball me out of more money, but he was kind enough to leave his beer bottle in our sink and a Joey-pee stain on our couch. All that was missing was a steaming pile on the kitchen floor.

Today I was given the procedures for a lot of the lab work that I'll be doing for my thesis this semester. They were handed to me in a big envelope with "CONFIDENTIAL" stamped across it in big red letters. Apparently I'm carrying the nuclear football of animal science. I looked at the procedures and there's nothing all that unusual about them. In fact, I did most of that shit in undergraduate work. Why all the cloak and dagger? These people must really be paranoid. They're telling me not to discuss anything with anyone because they say people come here from other labs to spy and steal research ideas. The whole time I'm hearing this I'm thinking to myself "Well, I know this guy is intelligent, but there's something not right here. Ahh..I got it, he's full of shit!" That's right, there's spies coming here to steal lab techniques that any retard could learn in an undergraduate biochemistry course. This just adds to the giant piles of bovine fecal matter that I must wade through on a daily basis if I ever want to get anything done.

The thing that really pissed me off though was his announcement that we're doing three experiments this semester, where as we only did two last year. I was especially pissed off when he said we wouldn't start until October 1st, which means we'll be running into the winter break. Yup, you guessed it, that means I won't be able to come home for Christmas, again. So, since I'm already getting raped of my x-mas break, I've decided to do a really half-assed job, more so than last year. Since I have to be here, I may as well ruin everyone else's time as well. I'm gonna keep fucking everything up to the point where the experiment runs all the way into May. That would really piss off everyone. If I can't go home, no one can.