It'll Get Finished When It's Finished!

(I promised myself this blog wouldn't turn into a personal gripe page, but I personally don't give a shit what gets posted on it now.)

I think we all get a little bent out of shape on our purpose in life. Some of us may achieve great things, while others become the "anti-example" by which to live. No doubt, the times we live in are dicked up like a gangbang. But do we every truly admit to ourselves what we want out of life?

Sometimes, some important times, we have to give ourselves a gut check and take a little inventory on what we want. Lets use myself as an example: I enjoy video games, eating, sleeping, working out and getting drunk. I'd add "getting laid" in that equation but that would require me to "give a fuck" (nyuk-nyuk). In that little list, you'll note that I didn't include my occupation, and there's a reason for that. The truth of the matter is that none of us actually want to work for a living. Some of us aren't even fucking passionate about what we do, we'd like to think we are; we're not. But for those of us that really don't care about the end-state of our environment, our neighborhood or our fellow man, there's hope. Hope in the fact that there are others who do give a damn, and we should be gracious enough to stay out of their way.

But how? How do we help those people without stepping away from our double xp weekends on Call of Duty you ask? By simply being honest with them. I can assure you, many people would be beyond thrilled if you just admitted to them that you really don't care about their neighborhood watch, their food drive or their petition (unless there's something in it for you.) I should know, I drop the "no, I don't think that's really worth getting worked up over" spiel on a regular basis.  Be wary, however, of those who are so civic-minded that they want to drag you into their pile of horse-hockey.  These motherfuckers will do nothing good for your peace of mind and totally destroy your chances of getting to that next prestige level on whatever game you're playing online. 

The civic-minded volunteer is the worst type of individual. They give a hoot for the sake of giving said hoot, which is no reason to ever give a hoot unless someone is hooting up in your business. So be the smart field mouse and hide from these bird-brains whenever it can be managed. Couldn't their time be better spent masturbating or otherwise finding a way to go fuck themselves, I ask you? 

So, if you're lazy, are only motivated by that which will pay or entertain you, and only work because it keeps you in the life you're most comfortable living then take heart. You are closer to happiness than Mr. Save-the-Whales will ever be, and far closer to getting what you want out of life.

Question everything, or not; not my problem.

Cain and the N-word

I don't enjoy using racial epithets of any kind in my writngs, something I pride myself on. But in this nigga's case, I'll make an exception tonight.

Herman Cain, Republican candidate for President and Pizza-Baron is that exception, and falls under the aforementioned category of "nigga." To clairify (so that non-blacks don't go using the word willy-nilly) a "nigga" is a black person who, advertantly or inadvertantly, fucks shit up for other black people. A good example of this is the Beltway Sniper, John Allen Muhammad. This was right after September 11th when he went out and started shooting people when they walked out of restaurants and other such nonsense. It was bad enough that his last name was that of the Islamic prophet during a period of paranoia and fear towards Islam, but this dude just had to be black. He didn't have the common decency or foresight to be another race. So in summary to our example, John Allen Muhammad was a nigga. Now that we've edified those who'd call me a hater of my own people, we'll continue.

Herman Cain is making black republicans look bad. It's not a question of his intent, but the result. His hate-filled rhetoric regarding immigration (not even funny as a joke), his song-and-dance routine regarding his pizza chain, and recently his comment regarding his approach to foreign policy have turned heads in much the same way a flaming bag of dogshit on your doorstep would. Also, what the fuck is a "You-beki-beki-beki-stan-stan?" I understand it was an "example" (if that's what you wish to call it) but you can't name an actual country? Why should I vote for you, Mr. Cain? You didn't even pass Social Studies, fuck Geography!

A note on his "qualifications" to fix the economy: I won't beat the 9-9-9 dead horse, but I will say that being a pizza baron doesn't make you a world-class entrepreneur. Everyone loves pizza, you idiot! It's like saying "I can sell crack to Charlie Sheen!" Which doesn't make you a great drug-dealer...

...Not "Winning"...

...I mean sure you're a productive dealer, but you're not Tony-fucking-Montana. This deluded-ass nigga is not the type of man a sane (however relative the term) individual would want in office. But as they say "Niggas out here is crazy, son." I'd sooner trust my dog in a tie on the campaign trail.

But then he had the audacity to say that President Obama was "not a real black man." Seriously? If by that he meant "not a two-timing, tom-ass nigga" then I'd give it some merit. Honestly, what Cabin did this "Uncle Tom" come from? I half expected him to dump salt on the stage and pull a bojangles when he mentioned the use of an electrified fence on the U.S./ Mexican border while tea partiers dropped coins into his hat.

Now I know what you're saying, "Be nice, Rey, he's a Cancer survivor." Of course he is, dummy! The nigga's too evil to die! I'm starting to think Cancer is a member of the New Orleans Police, never actually snuffing out the real criminals; "Big C," my dick!

Herman Cain's hypocrisy rears it's head at every turn like Michael Myers in Halloween, and we the public are merely Jamie Lee Curtis. In any case, I must thank Cain for finally clarifying to Americans what a "nigga" truly is. So, as I usually say to those of his ilk in parting...

"Nigga, eat a dick."

Oh By The Way, New Blog

After a long period of inactivity, punctuated by moments of self-loathing and doubt, I'm back in the writing game. I could give you a number of reasons, but lets just go with mindless self-importance and the deluded notion that people care about what I have to say. Because I'm awesome, and that's that.

If you've read thus far, you'll notice the shiny new black layout and the tone of the material having a nod towards politics. Unfortunately that was my first of many posts, and I aim to go in one solid direction: Humor.

I'm going back to my roots on this one. Humorist writing, much like plumbing, is my shit without the lame allegory. So allow me to formally introduce you to my new page. You're introduced, you can exchange names and numbers. Maybe take my page out for a lovely evening. But be warned, this page doesn't give it up on the first night; no swing-leg.

Enjoy, and share. In fact just share...