remember the good old days when the reason for killing someone involved something important like cheerleading and not a virtual personal ostracization? an good old a fashioned what the fuck to ‘defriending’…

imagine the depths of solitude one must experience to resort to a lonely appeal to a camera in search of something to lend an ear…er rather lens to their troubles.

it’s a bird…not it’s a plane…it’s super congress! able to stop freedom in a single bound! the finances of the country reflect a banana republic so why shouldn’t the government as well?

a military industrial
illusion of democracy

…unless they are cancerous. what a refreshingly honest stance to take that liber commercium and the pecunium it generates is earthly and wordly more important than life! astounding that by surrendering to la dolce vita one becomes so comforted in their station that ameliorating the suffering of a child is far too jarring to a cushioned existence…or perhaps it is the unpublished gauche masses that do not understand the rigorous demands of whoring literature!

in a year of a republican tsunami, couldn’t there have been a glimmer of smoke that the future might be a whole lot kinder and hazier maybe just a bit greener?

“i’d like to share a revelation that i’ve had during my time here. it came to me when i tried to classify your species, and i realised that humans are not actually mammals. every mammal on this planet instinctively develops a natural equilibrium with the surrounding environment; but you humans do not. instead you multiply, and multiply, until every resource is consumed. the only way for you to survive is to spread to another area. there is another organism on this planet that follows the same pattern… a virus.”

an entertaining pleasantry, eh? mercifully just a bit of fanciful fictional posturing…right?

some drink and get sad. some drink and cry. some drink and get angry. some drink and say gay people take it up the ass. some drink and call police officers ’sugar tits’. some drink and assert the jews are responsible for all the wars in the world. some drink and beat their girlfriends because they ‘deserved’ it. some drink and claim they see a bitch in heat or a vegas whore. some drink and call the help ‘wetback’. some drink and bring up being ‘raped by a pack of niggers’. one guy does all of these but the first two…which is sad and can make you want to cry.

the only thing lost is all your time…

clearly papal infallibility does not begin prior to holding the office…

a james cameron movie is in it’s essence a porno: nothing but a fantastic look, unrealistic action and the thinnest of plots to get to the money shot.