A Tough World

    Glenn Danzig vs Johnny Cash.


Lately I have been noticing that, to quote the movie Demolition Man, the world has become a pussy whipped version of itself. Back In the day, people smoked cigarettes and loved 'em. They would walk down the street and make fun of people who didn't smoke. "Ha ha ha! What a sissy! Me and my four-pound cigarette, made purely of tar, laugh at you! HAHAHA!" People were tougher, they didn't whine as much.

There weren't as many wimps. And wimps weren't rewarded. People would walk a mile for a Chesterfield (although you bet your ass they'd be takin' the bus back.). People built bomb shelters, because god damn it, if the bomb hits, they are going to survive even if it lands on their face. What has made people so afraid of death that they long for tofu and ultra, ultra light butter?

Coming from Wisconsin, where the food contains more grease than actual food, I am living true to style. This week I smoked a pack of clove cigarettes and ate at least three corn dogs, an order of cheese curds, and a deep fried piece of dough covered in cinnamon and sugar (aka: an elephant ear). If I want to eat lightly, I go to McDonalds.

I will admit though, I have my limits. I don't do drugs. Drugs are bad (remember that kids). I also don't drink, but this is more of a personal preference since all alcohol tastes like something my grandmother would rub on her ass for hemorrhoids. So I'll pass on the ass cream in a bottle for now. Maybe later I will "acquire" a taste for it.

I hate it when I'm eating a cookie made with chocolate, M&Ms, peanut butter, and lord knows what else, the person tells me that they used fat free something-or-other to bake it. Well great, this caloric equivalent of the hydrogen bomb has just been detoxified by subtracting nine calories. Neat.

The world needs to remember that in ten years there will be a pill that eliminates all the crap blocking your arteries. If you don't think you can make it the ten years to witness that, then congratulations my friend, you are my hero. Hot damn you lived a good life. I need to party with you pal. The rest of you bastards are going to be whining even more when that pill comes because you have been forcing that nasty soy burger crap down your throat before washing it down with a protein shake.

Now, I could be wrong. I could die when I'm forty of a major heart attack in which my body convulses such that my Jumbo Double Butter Burger from Culvers is thrust onto the ground, wasting it and making onlookers jealous, but hey, you win some and you lose some. No one makes it out alive folks, and I for one am going to go out in style.

Rather large style, but nonetheless, style.

Next on my list is PETA. For chrissakes people, get over it. If you and an endangered polar bear were stranded on a desert island, no food, no shelter, not a damn thing, what do you think that polar bear would do to you? Eat your whiney bitch ass.

It wouldn't think about it. It wouldn't mull things over in its mind. It would look at you, and you would die. Probably a little after you wet yourself and fill your pants with some nasty vegetarian rock hard poop. Cows were put on this planet for two reasons, milk and steak. That's all. They aren't there to keep the grass short. That is what lawnmowers are for. They aren't there to keep the fields fertile, that is what chemical fertilizers are for.

The downfall of society will not be cuss words or nudity on TV, it will be PETA keeping enough animals alive for long enough that they learn about how scared we are to kill them and rise up against us. Opposable thumbs aren't what is keeping the cows from doing this already, it is the fact that they know their place already and have accepted it. But if they get wind of this PETA shit, all hell WILL break loose.

Once in awhile you gotta take a look at what you are doing for something / someone and say, "Would this person / thing do the same thing for me?" If the answer is no, then you are getting the short end of the stick, and believe you me, no one likes that. Just ask Jeffrey Dahmer (broom stick.... uh, get it?).

That is all for me today folks, I'm tired and need something to wash down this grease.