Your Average Joe

I love this whole “Joe The Plumber” shtick the McCain campaign is pushing. They are trying to convince people that their tax plan is good for the average American unlike the socialist, liberal, eastern elitist, pointy-headed intellectual Obama’s plan. Too bad it isn't true. I will pay less taxes under Obama than I would under McCain. Now if I took home more than $200K, then I might want to think about voting for the Geezer-Dingbat ticket assuming all I cared about were taxes. But the Republicans, as usual, are counting on the American public being gullible and naive. “Damned, Cletus, allz ah make is 23 thou a year so I don’t want no liberal takin any more of ma hard earned cash!” He obviously done heard it on Rush.

I think the McCain campaign should continue to run with the whole Joe Average American thing and start making up variations on the theme. Here are my suggestions:

Sam the Racist: This is easy. All they have to do is convince people a colored fellow would be president if Obama is elected.

Ken the Straight Guy: Use the specter of the “gay agenda” being vigorously enacted if Obama is elected. Would your average American like Ken want his hard earned tax money used towards buying ass-less chaps and Madonna records for poor, lazy, gay people?

John the Baptist: He’s just your typical god-fearing Christian American and he don’t want no mooslum president. Convince John and his ilk that, like his namesake, they will all lose their heads if McCain ain’t put in the White House.

Rosie the Riveter: Harken back the greatest generation when john McCain was just middle aged.

Sally the Theater Fag Mom: How come all these mom’s are sports moms (soccer mom, football mom, hockey mom, etc)? What about other after school activities like chess club or band or even theater that require moms to drive their kids around just as much? Sally could prove that even non-sports activities can have conservo cred.

Joe 48-pack: Convince drunken degenerates that they have a lot to lose if Obama is elected. Like free beer from Cindy McCain’s beer distributor.

Gary the Gun Nut: You know them liberals will take your guns away.

Laid Off Larry: Have some poor schlub who has been recently laid off blame William Ayers for his predicament.

Charlie the Chicken Hawk: Defines “supporting the troops” as putting them in as much danger as possible so long as he ain’t there himself. Iran and Russia are next!

Josephine the Lonely Housewife: She can be there when Joe the plumber shows up to “fix” the pipes.

More Cold War Era UFO Shenanegans

Great Britain declassified a bunch of UFO documents recently. No doubt only the ones that did not conclude that there are actual aliens visiting the Earth. You know, just the ones attributing UFOs to weather anomalies, experimental aircraft, pink elephants, etc. But the cagey Brits were sure to toss in a few unresolved reports to make it seem as though they were being thorough. Like this one.

It’s about US fighter jets scrambled to shoot down a UFO over Kent in 1957. One of the pilots was about to splatter some serious alien ass with a salvo of 24 missiles when the spaceship turned tail and ran away at 7,600MPH. I suspect the otherworldly pilots soiled their spacesuits on the way back to wherever they came from, assuming aliens defecate. And as is always the case, the earthly pilot was debriefed by a man in black ("looked like a well-dressed IBM salesman") after the incident.

So, what does this mean for you and me? Obviously, it means we should go on the offensive! Take the fight to the aliens! Preemptive intergalactic war! As you know I am personally well prepared for this but what about our next president?

You might think that “John Wayne” McCain would be the man for the job since he is ready to kick any ass for any reason at any given notice. Although his running mate would surely try to stop him from doing anything since the invasion would be the coming of “the end of days” thus meaning potential disaster for us. And Obama might try to negotiate with the aliens under no preconditions which could mean the extinction of all human life on this planet.

So lets get ole Ross Perot back on the ballot in November. The little fucker would probably scare the bejesus out of any extraterrestrial visitors. Hell, he might even be one of them! Plus he’s funny as shit. Let’s get the petitions going!

More Of The Famous Letters of Lord Reginald Fuckworth to Doctor Hieronymus Porksword

Dearest Dr. Porksword:

I've been wrestling with a question as of late. Perhaps you can answer it:

Do you suppose Cindy McCain's anus is a cute little pink button or a wart infested, hemorrhoid festooned mess?

You answer would be appreciated!

Lord Fuckworth



Dear Lord Fuckworth,

I have it on good authority (bangedup.com) that the anus in question has been described as a happy, perky, pinkish balloon knot that is coincidentally shaped like Hello Kitty.

Regards,
Dr. Porksword.

The Rodential Jim Jones

The damned neighborhood squirrels have been very busy lately, those furry little fuckers. Scampering around finding whatever nuts and berries they can stuff in their cheeks and depositing them in whichever soon to be forgotten nook or cranny they can find. Although I think that the really fat squirrel just calls for Dominos delivery. But I haven’t seen him for awhile. Maybe he got stuck in a tree or just finally blew up.

I believe the buck-toothed little bastards can sense that I am almost powerless against them since, no matter what the angle, there is always a back drop of a neighbor’s house. Not that I would plan on missing, mind you, but I think the neighbors would not like seeing me waving a gun or even my trusty sling shot around in pursuit of one of the mangy menaces.

And I can’t purposely run them over with my car since the neighborhood is full of children and it would be dangerous, even with my considerable driving skills, swerving about trying to turn the beasts into furry pancakes. So what to do? Well if you can’t beat them, join them. I’m serious.

I have developed the ability to communicate with squirrels. Now, I’m not going crazy - it’s not like I discuss the recent Red sox game with them or politics (although no doubt they are communists since they think everything is communal property including the fucking snacks in my backpack and the seeds in the birdfeeder). But I can make a very convincing squeaking noise by sucking air in through my lips and teeth in just the right way. A very rare talent. The result is always hilarious because it stops squirrels dead in their tracks. Their tails start to twitch wildly as their beady little eyes try to focus on me. Then they start turning every which way in short, jerky movements to get a better look as their tiny brains try to comprehend what I’m saying. Usually this fascinating conversation ends with me yelling “now get the fuck out of here!” and the rodent screaming off into a tree.

I think what I will do is get cashews and malted milk balls, stuff them in my checks and scurry around my yard so the little pricks will think I’m just a large squirrel and that I present no danger. Then I will squeak-speak to them and convince them I’m the squirrel messiah that will lead them to the promised land of unlimited nuts and berries. And cool aid.

We need to throw the bums out!

I watched the so-called “Town Meeting” presidential debate the other night. I came away with the impression that John McCain is an angry, doddering old demented troll. At one point he referred to Obama as “that one,” spitting and grimacing while he did it. You just know he is chomping at the bit to call Obama “boy” or “that lawn jockey” or “the spear chucker over there.”

Obama's performance was fine but he should start referring to McCain as “grandpa” or “the malevolent Methuselah” or “McBush” or simply “that bug fuck insane jackass over there.”

Shit, the choices are stark. The smart, smooth, reassuring Obama or the incendiary, jowly little neocon Bush brown nose. And who really is the agent of change, huh?

It is amazing that almost all Americans are unified in the opinion that we desperately need change. We need to throw the bums out!

Sadly, some Americans are confused as to who the "bums" really are. Witness the speech that political chameleon/whore Mitt Romney vomited upon the gullible crowd at the Republican national convention. Here is a direct quote from it:

We have a prescription for every American who wants change in Washington: Throw out the big-government liberals and elect John McCain and Sarah Palin.

Huh? What the fuck? What goddamned planet does he call home? Do you fucking idiots not understand that "Washington" has been controlled by the Republicans for the last 8 years as far as the executive branch goes and for almost all of 14 years as far as the legislative branch goes?

Oh, and by the way, Mr. McCain, would you please stop referring to everyone as "my friends." I am not your goddamned friend! My real friends are more sane than you are (really)!

I’m already sick of the whole damned thing.

Entertainment in the face of adversity

Before so unexpectedly and spectacularly derailed in yesterdays blog, I was going to tell you about a particular soap dispenser where I work. But before I do that let me describe the environs of the place of my employment. I work in this giant building in suburban Mass in the IT department of a company that makes semi-conductor equipment. And right now, nobody is buying semi-conductor equipment. I mean nobody. We have had 3 major and many minor layoffs in the last year or so with more planned. Those that are still here are jumping ship like George Bush supporters. Everyone’s attitude is in the shitter. So I have to find ways of distracting myself from the morass.

The last time anything was upgraded around here was when the soap dispensers went from the manual pump kind to the motion sensor kind. Just wave your hand under it and a blob of soap automatically comes out. That was a couple years ago. Now they are erratic and in need of repair. The main bathroom in Engineering, if you go to the very right hand sink and place your hand under the soap dispenser, a series of blobs come shooting out, each one bigger than the last. It even makes a moaning sound that gets louder with each shot. It ejaculates! It’s such a riot.

So when things really get me down at work, I just wash my hands of it. So to speak.

HOLY SHIT! Count down to 200

I just noticed something that truly shocked me to the core of my being. I was going to blog about a soap dispenser in one of the bathrooms at work but, when I logged into the blogging console, I saw something I had never really noticed before – a running total of my blogs. Clench your asses tightly now because of what I’m about to tell you - I am up to 180 blogs. Jesusmotherfuckingchristallmighty! What a breathtaking monument to stupidity! A steaming pile of digital fecal matter. A bit bucket full of wasted ones and zeros. At 10 minutes a whack, that means I have spent over 30 hours writing blogs! WTF?

What could I have done with those missing 30 hours if I hadn’t wasted them by blogging? I could have driven to south Florida. Watched Cum Guzzling Freaks volumes 1 thru 15. Made about $250 working at McDonalds. Walked to the White Mountains. Swam to the Isles of Shoals and back. Drank 130 beers. Visited about 1500 porn sites. Watched about 6 major league ball games. Done 30 hours of anticipatory community service. Read War and Peace a couple times. Written 400 new Boot Party songs. Flown to Australia.

Instead, I chose to blow a little sunshine up your miserable little sit-upons.

You're welcome.

The Famous Letters of Lord Reginald Fuckworth to Doctor Hieronymus Porksword

Dearest Dr. Porksword:

I hope the this beautiful late summer finds you well and prosperous! I, on the other hand, am consumed with worries. Due to some financial mismanagement on the part of yours truly, I am forced to forsclose on my scrotum. I don't want to live a post scrotbox life! Suggestions?

Yours Devotedly,
Lord Fuckworth




Dearest Lord Fuckworth,


Scrotum foreclosure is all too common these days. All around me I hear the cries and lamentations of the scrotally forclosed. You shouldn't blame yourself, however, but assign the blame to 7 1/2 years of 'merikan mismanagement by curious George. You may be forced to lease a substandard scrote in the interim or go the frugal route...and make one out of papier mache. Post scrotal life may sound lonely but never forget...you are not alone.



May the Jack Lord smile on you and yours,

Dr. Porksword

Rare Sighting

The World Wild Life Federation (WWF) reported a shockingly rare sighting of the ivory-billed Jupiter 2 (garagebandus idiotus), a very large member of the pecker-wood family that is officially listed as an endangered species but by the end of the 20th century was widely considered extinct.

Naturalist J.L. Stevens sent me this provocative video which was, I believe, filmed by her husband. The resolution is not very good but JPL in Pasadena, Ca is attempting to clean it up.