Appreciating Some of the Shittiest Cultures

                                                                                                                                         

       A long, long time ago I went to a place called college. In college, I was supposed to learn some invaluable things about myself and the world that would propel me into a successful career, where, thanks to  the shimmering treasure chest of information I had obtained, I could fly on wings made of $200 textbooks and the pearls of wisdom they offer over a glorious Reading Rainbow and into the sunset that was the fulfillment of my most extravagant dreams, which included but were not limited to having a money bin that I could go swimming in like Scrooge McDuck, and owning a hovercraft.

       Well if I were given the chance to do it all again, I would probably travel to England or Australia and go to uni instead, because the shit they taught me in college turned out to be worthless, and I've always been curious to find out what this whole uni business is about. But when I really sit down with a cold cup of raspberry lemonade and some cheese toast on Armistice Day and am honest with myself, I have to admit that only about 90% of the blame for my underachievement should go to the idea of college, while the other 10% falls squarely upon yours truly, and a few other things. 

For example, this.

       But let me come to my own defense and say that some of the shit they taught there really was as retarded as Sarah Palin with a brain injury as a contestant on Press Your Luck.

       I remember having to take all these classes in humanities, and simply being in awe of the fact that these people did not understand that there was only one humanity and not several. I mean you work at a freaking university, people. And even if it were changed to the correct singular form, it would still be a pretty vague discipline if you ask me. I can't think of anything that could not by some stretch of the imagination be considered a humanity, and if you're trying to tell me that anatomy isn't a humanity, well that's just stupid. So why don't you just go and read a book by some boring-ass dead guy, because I have nothing to say to you. Talk to the hand.

       

       Or if you really wanted to do something masochistic you could sign up for a course in cultural diversity. If your experience is anything like mine was, you will find it to be a steaming pile of humanity. It would probably be best if I just tell you what I learned.

       The Japanese are a fucked-up people. This is well documented throughout history and is very evident today. If you think it's normal to censor the pubic hairs of a lady who is shitting into a man's mouth, then there is a 100% chance of you being Japanese. If you just bought a human head from a vending machine, then I have bad news for you, you are a Japanese person. However, they have the strongest teeth of any country in the world. The average Japanese tooth is strong enough to break diamonds.

                                

       Americans have been called every name you can imagine, such as the stupidest fucking fatty fucks and entitled dunce-cunts on the planet, and I am not going to add to that by saying that they are the tackiest trashiest most wasteful pieces of arrogant crud-fuck this world had ever spawned. That would be gratuitous as this has all been said already. But what I will say is that they have an exoskeleton made of resilient chitin that makes them almost invincible.

       Germans are incapable of sneezing. A German person may feel the urge to sneeze for months and even years at a time, which is maddening. Sausages are a welcome distraction.

       Midgets can spray a foul liquid from special glands in their anus as a defense against predators.

       British people are virtually immortal. Currently the youngest person in Britain is three centuries old.

       Every African is given a magic marble at birth. They have to carry it around with them at all times.

The often painful process of cultural assimilation.

Italians have a genetic disposition to be exceptionally good at tether ball.

       But the one thing I actually liked about the class was that they didn't teach us that everyone was the same. That's why they called it cultural diversity. They taught us that everyone was vastly different, so much so that a person coming of age in one culture could never completely understand and identify with another no matter how long they lived in it, which was perfectly fine, that we were beautifully and impossibly different like that. And that was kind of gay, but I also enjoyed it. And speaking of gay I am damn proud of New York. And speaking of gay as in merriment, today is my birthday. So everyone take a day of rest and enjoy yourselves, not only because it's Sunday, but because it was on this day that I rather unceremoniously slid out of my mother's vagina. Like a boss. Peace to Dirt Dog.

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Partying Down With Religious Fun Addicts

                                                                    

       Anyone who knows me knows what a party animal I am. I probably spend about 50% of my life up in the club, while another 25% is spent at house parties, tea parties, fun parties and the like, while another 25% is spent riding go-carts and playing mini-golf at Celebration Station here in lovely Baton Rouge, while a whopping 85% of my life is spent getting my fuck on. When you add that all up you can see that I really like to party. I'm not one of these people who needs an excuse to throw down, like when we finally managed to sink al-Qaeda's battleship a few weeks ago.

       And by "we" I mean my family and close friends and everyone who works at the local Ruby Tuesday's, and several of the people I grew up with and all of my elementary school teachers, and of course myself. No, after we achieved that, I didn't need to use it as an excuse to go party, but you had better believe that I partied my freedom-loving balls off. I wound up at a donkey show in a basement in Tijuana, and I regret to inform you that I was not one of the spectators. You may not have thought I would be the type of guy to party that hard, but it just goes to show that things aren't always what they seem.

       Hindsight being 20/20 and all, I probably would not have partied quite as hard as I did, but I was with trusted friends who I thought had my best interests in mind. I trusted they would step in if I was getting out of control. But apparently when it came to the matter of my savage equine rape these so-called friends were more amused than concerned.

       Apparently they just sat back in that darkened Tijuana basement with their shit-eating grins and enjoyed the show. But they had the presence of mind to take a number of pictures, which I will not be posting here or anywhere else. And before you even say it, yes, I mad.

       Well, like I just said, you didn't have to say it. But my anger really isn't the point. The point is these asshole supposed friends of mine. I don't even know why I was with them in the first place. I should have known they wouldn't give a shit about me, since all they really care about is their rigid dogma, which they cling to like they would cling to a dead Mexican prostitute. But I guess that's just the price I pay for Partying Down With Religious Fun Addicts.

       When out rippin and tearin with doomsday preacher Harold Camping, make sure not to ask about how his prophecies are going. It's kind of a touchy subject right now and if you piss him off he is likely to curse you. He told me that God was going to dig up the bones of my dead pets and turn them to manure, including the ones that were cremated. I think he was just a little upset because my prediction that I would give him an atomic wedgie turned out to be devastatingly accurate.

       If you happen to be out acting a fool with Westboro Baptist Church leader and lover of old school Oakleys, and just generally a fan of the retro cowboy look Fred Phelps, make sure not to take him to a production of The Laramie Project. He is likely to start a protest over them depicting him protesting, which is likely to create a rupture in the fabric of the universe, in much the same way as if you were ever to divide by zero, which you absolutely NEVER SHOULD. I have learned through confabulating with Phelps over Mai Tais that he truly does not care if everything in existence implodes into nothingness, as long as everyone is well aware that he doesn't care for the gays. I have also learned that the way he got disbarred is fucking hilarious.

       While tearing the roof off the sucka with former pastor of New Life Church and lover of the sweet sweet scandalous homosex Ted Haggard, a.k.a "Pastor Ted," make sure you are not also gettin ratchet with Fred Phelps. They would probably be at each other's throats all night.

       You probably shouldn't invite Richard Dawkins either. He may be a lot more intelligent and rational, but he is just as much of an egocentric ideologue. They would probably be at each other's throats all night.

On second thought, they seem to get along just fine.

       But honestly I wouldn't recommend parlaying, nor would I recommend raging or blowing it out of the water with any of these clowns. And don't bother trying to have a real discourse with any of them because they won't actually listen to a word you have to say, because they'll be busy formulating all the deep shit that they have to say. Plus all Richard Dawkins really cares about is pussy. That's really why he wrote the book about why you shouldn't believe in the other book, so people would believe in his book and those people would include some fine ass hoes. He actually couldn't give a shit what you believe. But he has every right to his gratuitous self-indulgence, and the same even has to be said for someone like Fred Phelps. If not this would have to be Communist China, and if I'm not mistaken it isn't.

No, I am quite certain we don't have this here.

      

       Sometimes I hope that the Buddhists are right and when you die you are reincarnated, so that this could happen and also so that Fred Phelps could be adopted by Ellen Degeneres.

       But actually I really don't care about that crap. I'm just trying to make the most of the time I have now. That's why I'm going to see Fast Five while it's still in theaters.



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