from 10/14/08

Why Don't You Forget The Moose For A Moment

Fear.

Republicans scare me, because they look just like people. The next and final presidential debate is tomorrow. I won't be watching, because they just infuriate me. I think the reason I get so filled with rage when I hear these motherfuckers talk is because I know there are people out there who believe their bullshit. Now, Obama has a lead right now but it's important that we stay on this course, because, there's still this cadre out there of undecided voters.

Now, undecided voters are the biggest fucking idiots on the planet. After all this time, how can you still have no opinion? And you probably know an undecided voter, you've talked to them, or you hear them ranting at a bar or something, and they'll say something like, "Well, I DON'T like John McCain, but Obama, I just don't know!"

"So your solution is to vote for McCain?!"

"No, I'm saying I just don't know."

"What the FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"

It's obviously difficult to get through to these people, and I'm here to help. Now, if you're trying to sway one of these people, don't try to discuss the issues, because you're only gonna confuse them. Pick a superficial story, one that relates more to the candidate themself. A good example is the Gravina Island Bridge. You probably all know the story by now; in the 2005 Highway Bill 233 million dollars was earmarked to build a bridge to an island where fifty people live. It became a symbol of wasteful pork barrel spending and a national embarrassment, especially after congress wanted to divert part of it to help Katrina victims, and Alaska Senator Ted Stevens stood on the floor of congress shouting, "NO!!!." (pounding fist) You know, Ted Stevens, the one who's in jail now. So after it became embarrassing, they removed the earmark.

Here's what you might not know, "THEY KEPT THE MONEY!!!" Not earmarked for the bridge, but Alaska still kept the funds. Here's what you might not realize; they didn't give a fuck about a bridge. They didn't want a bridge, they wanted to bleed money from the government. And still, Sarah Palin,within a week of her candidacy, said in six or seven of her speeches, "I tooled the kengress, 'thenks, bet noo thenks." And by the way, let me just say, god bless Tina Fey for pointing out that Sarah Palin talks like a fucking reject from the movie Fargo. The press doesn't want to say that, it's not nice. They say it's "folksy." What the fuck is that, "folksy?" Woody Guthrie was folksy. Bob Dylan is folksy. Susan Vega is folksy. Sarah Palin should have been the one in that fucking wood chipper!

Aaaaaand I sense I've gone too far. Morbid sense of humor. Don't judge me.

So anyway, to explain this issue to an undecided voter, you've got to give them a way to relate to the material. So just say,

"Ok, so, Paris Hilton asks her dad for five thousand dollars to buy an iPod. He says ok, and lays five thousand dollars on the table. Then somebody, I don't know, maybe Nicky, says, 'Paris, wait a minute, iPods don't cost that much. Plus you only have two cd's and they're both Maroon 5.' So Paris proudly says she's not buying the iPod to TMZ or Page Six or whoever the fuck it is these people talk to. She KEEPS the money, and spends it on what she really wanted to: shoes, cocaine and crates of condoms."

Now, the Republicans are content to let Sarah Palin settle in this role of mudslinger so McCain can appear to be taking the high road. And the issue she was bringing up last week was Paul Ayers, who was a member of the Weathermen back in the fucking '60s. They're making a big deal over the fact that he and Barack were on the same charity board ten, fifteen years ago, and he threw him a fundraiser or something. So Sarah Palin goes on about Barack pals around with terrorists. This is when her husband, who I assume she pals around with, was part of an Alaskan separatist group. Fucking Alaska. You know, they keep saying she's a former beauty queen. Yeah, in Wasilla, a city with the same population as this fucking block. She wasn't Miss Alaska, she took third. She got Miss Congeniality. If there was ever a time when Sarah Palin was the most congenial woman in Alaska, I say, let it go. Fine, see ya. I don't a fuck about your polar bears, your ice fields, I don't care how much I loved the show Northern Exposure, let Alaska go.

And speaking of that, remember Cynthia Geary? The blonde actress, she played Shelly the dumb waitress. She wasn't really acting. I remember she was on the Arsenio Hall Show back in the day, and she was saying how much she liked living in Seattle, that's where they filmed the show. And she goes, "And there's cool music! You know, Nirvana's from Seattle."

Nirvana's from Seattle? Really? Wow, I never heard that. Like she's making a fucking revelation. I know I sound like I've gone off on an irrelevant tangent, but I said that to tell you this, these are the motherfuckers who vote. So stay the course, ROCK THE VOTE, AND FUCK THE REPUBLICANS!

NAMASTE, MOTHERFUCKERS!

from 4/23/08

Michael Stuart, You Hurt My Feelings

Last summer, I was over at Slainte, with some of our friends, Michele was there, Courtney was there, and a few others, I don't remember. And I started talking to these two girls. I was drunk, yes, but not drooling crazy fall down drunk or anything. We were having a pleasant conversation, they were actually doing most of the talking, so I know I wasn't bothering them. Then out of no where, for no reason at all, the bartender appears and says, "You have to leave."

I was stunned, so I just said, "Excuse me?"

He said, "Yes, you have to go away."

I was too shocked to say anything, and since I was gonna go in a minute anyway, I politely said, "Nice to meet you," and went back to rejoin my friends. After about an hour, everyone left. Before I did, I had some unfinished business, so I went back to the bar, went to the bartender and said, "Hey." He smiled and leaned in, and I said, "You're a fucking asshole."

I turned and walked out, and I'm halfway to the door, he comes up behind me, grabs my belt and collar and pushes me out. And I didn't fall, that was my personal victory. But it was like, ooh, big man, you pushed me out as I was already leaving, you made me . . . leave faster, by creeping up behind me where I couldn't see you, wow, way to go tough guy, you FUCKIN' pussy.

I vowed never to go back there, but hey, it's right next to the fuckin' Bowery (Poetry Club), and after a few months, I popped in to catch the end of the Giants game one night. The asshole wasn't there, so went back a few more times. One night last month, this is about nine months after the big incident, I'm in there with a beer, waiting for some food, and this guy appears, and I think, "Is that the asshole?" I can't really tell, it'd been such a long time, but he sees me and says, "You have to leave. You finish your beer but then you get out of here. I don't want any argument."

Then he grabbed my beer and poured it out, and I said, "I thought you said I could finish my beer."

He said, "No."

Now, I'll add, this is nine months later, I hadn't cut my hair that whole time so it's much longer, and this guy, who'd seen me for a grand total one minute at the most, still recognized me, like he's obsessed with me or something. I guess I emasculated the poor fuck. I got up to leave, and before I go, flash a huge smile, wave, and yell, "GOOD NIGHT!"

So evidently, those four words I said to him have gotten me banned for life. For four words. What a fucking asshole. So I call upon all of you, at your leisure, whenever you have time, go over to Slainte, and look for the tall, thin, slightly spiky brown-haired guy. Have a beer or two. Chat a little. Gain his confidence. Then, before you go, loudly, so that everyone can hear it, say,

"BYE! HOPE YOUR RAPE TRIAL GOES OK!!!"

Namaste.