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July 30, 2006

Yoko Ono

When I need fresh perspective about how it feels to sadly schlepp along with a total ignoramus who spends her life barfing out unqualified, unmerited, unhelpful opinions every 3.2 nanoblips, I'll consider coaxing your sister out of her noose and down off the kitchen table and kindly request, in writing, for HER opinion. In the mean time, it would be lovely if YOU would keep YOUR bullshit to yourself.

AKA shut up.

Thanks.

It's really not that hard.

I mean, do you know even one dust speck about automobile engines? No? Then quit pointing at the windshield wiper fluid and get back in the car.

I know, it's very tempting, I mean it would be just soooo much easier to just loosen those chappy lips and let that turd roll out for everyone to admire in horror. I'm sure it must be rather unpleasant to have a mouth full of horseshit. I can't imagine it tastes like candy or chocolate or anything, so I can kinda understand why you would wanna just spit it all out all over the internet. But trust me, that's not the answer.

SERIOUSLY. You don't want people to even know that you HAVE a mouthful of poo. People don't really like poo mouthed people. Or rather: People don't like people that they KNOW for CERTAIN have a yap full of crap.

Lucky for you ---- you're in charge of that mouth. THEY DON'T HAVE TO KNOW!

If your cake hole is full of ass fudge, ------ doo dee doo doo dooo ------ dance dance dance --

DON'T OPEN IT!!



There are other options.


You look a little confused.

Oh, I get it. You are UNAWARE that your blower is filled with turds. Guess I shouldn't be surprised.

Here, do this:

Next time you're standing around with Paul, John, George and Ringo and a topic comes up and all kinds of crazy shit starts floating, rolling, gushing, plopping, dripping, shooting or even EXPLODING out of the mouths of your team members..... DON'T JOIN RIGHT IN! -- slow down. Take a minute to consider what exactly it is that you have in your mouth. Roll it around, move it back and forth with your tongue, try to press it into the back of your teeth. Is it yummy and minty and sweet like candy? Or is it hot and putred like poop? If you are unsure and you have a mint in your pocket, flick it in there and compare.

There is no rush here, take your time, it's worth it.

Or , you can just go on spraying out donkey shit like a flailing unmanned diarrhea fire hose.

I really don't give a fuck.

I'm just trying to help.

Aaaahhh minty --- no?

amen.

Now a girl:


Oh yeah, one more thing. All opinions about art are poo. The best you can hope for is a minty poo. But it's poo nonetheless.

Besides, your art sucks.

That's all for now.
Don't get caught jamming altoids up your butt.
Your Dentist,
Cindy Brady

FUCK FRANCINE!!:
Blogger LindzyPinzy is a gaywad.

those are some great photos:)

 

Anonymous Lindzypinzy for the record in no way is a gaywad.

lol

 

Anonymous FEJ is a gaywad.

Great photo booth shot. I love the reflection, and best of all, I recognize the velcro slip on sneakers.

 

Blogger fish hat!!! is a gaywad.

see, because I thought you were dead- or kind of dead, but more just lying incapacitated with your camera and every now and then some hot girl comes in and you take a picture and a midget clown runs it and posts it on your blog and we, the reader, do not phone the police, meanwhile the hot girls and the midget clown are putting jello in your hair and pretending to pee on you with those little bottles of super fructose-y ester flavored syrups you can get a the mexican grocery and you keep complaining that you really want a croissanwich or something...
that's how it looked in my head...
so, because I thought you were dead, or slightly endangered, I decided to tell everyone I was you...
and I did...
but I said I was "¡merkley!" and for the most part got a pretty blah response- except for I was billed for several unpaid subscriptions to magazines.
I gave it up, and I'd like to think that there was no harm done.

And all in all it was easier to say than: It's nice to see you writing again.

 

Blogger merkley??? is a gaywad.

holy shit i rule.

 

Blogger poopee shmoopee is a gaywad.

you do rule, but in that weird poo-rific way that only you can.

 

Blogger THEMERRYJANETRAIN is a gaywad.

Punkin!
Do you identify with Lennon?

 

Blogger THEMERRYJANETRAIN is a gaywad.

Punkin!
Do you identify with Lennon?
I am in DC
I am going to the Spy museum tomorrow.
Want anything from the gift shop?

 

Blogger grrlsweat is a gaywad.

i see your sneaky sneaker foot. i want your locations. bad. by that i mean rooms. they're so beautiful and seedy, decadent and grotesque, baroque and uh i've run out of contrasting contrasts already so bye.

 

Blogger GreenShimmeryLiquid is a gaywad.

There was one intelligent comment on this blog, and you deleted it.

I'm looking up, and the comments above mine are completely pathetic.

 

Blogger merkley??? is a gaywad.

not sure a comment proclaiming yoko's genius qualifies as smart, but the rerason it was deleted is because anonymous people are completely useless.

much like your stupid one post blog.

fag.

 

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July 23, 2006

Born Too Tall

I was just sitting there, having a whiskey coke, minding my own business, thinking about the overall fluffiness of my head, when this young, 6 foot tall, purebred model type woman sits down next to me and makes some flattering remark about my photography. I say thanks and what not and then proceed onward into the core of my being, you know, making poop and pee jokes, racist remarks, a quip or two about jews, arabs and cancer, --- the kinda stuff of which most normal girls cannot get enough. Anyway, she was doing a half decent job holding back the gigantic guffaws that normally accompany my hilarity and instead made attempts to talk about the smart books she was reading and the story of how her father should have been first chair cellist but was second chair due to being a "rebel".

By this reaction, I could tell that she was a recent transplant to this city and also that she must be about 21 years old for they are basically the only group of know-it-all SAINTS still clinging to politically correct humor (which is of course an oxymoron of double gulp proportions). She even worked in a forced sneer or two when I made some passing remark about punching an infant in the face. L -- ame.

"Dude, what's your problem? I'm being seriously funny here and you are making faces like a 19 year old midwestern girl. I can tell you are holding back laughs and it's GAY"

"Well I would laugh if you actually said something funny, I just don't think racism and discrimination is funny."

"Because you HATE niggers."

"HAAA ha ha ha ha hAH hoo hee, OK that was kinda funny, but seriously, discrimination isn't funny, not even in jokes. In fact I was the victim of discrimination just this week and let me tell you, it's NOT funny."

"OK this I gotta hear, how were YOU, a six foot tall white runway model, the VICTIM of discrimination?"

"Well, I was at this bar down the street and this oldish man comes up to me and says: "Damn you are TALL, I'm gonna have to buy YOU a DRINK!" and I'm like: That is TOTAL discrimination based on my tallness, why should I get a drink just because I was born tall? THAT'S DISCRIMINATION"

"You were born tall?"

"Yeah" she said with a pout.

Brothers and Sisters of the congregation, this is a TRUE STORY. Why do I tell it? What is my sermon? Well, my message is simple:

You either MAKE jokes, or you ARE the joke.

Nobody laughs AT someone who is laughing, we laugh at that stupid serious look on your face when you say the dumbest shit imaginable. STOP IT.

When you finally embrace how completely useless you are to the rest of humanity in your pitiful attempt to stamp out humor OF ANY KIND, and instead just laugh at funny shit, you might not feel so compelled say the stupidest shit ever.

So basically, the moral of the story is: Saw your legs off and feed them to starving Africans and stop picking on Brad and Angelina.

That shit hurts you know.

Now this:




BTW, before any of you dickheads says some lame shit like "Maybe you juat weren't being funny dude", I already thought of that and it's impossible.

That's all for now.
Don't get caught looking down on midgets.
Your Favorite WhitePhone Airport Pager,
Allman Iggis

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July 16, 2006

From Rancid Ham, Pâté de Foie Gras!!

Look at you sitting there.... no pants .... with a grilled cheese sandwich resting one billimeter from that scab on your pasty thigh. Thank Santa nobody can see you right now because the way you keep scratching and sniffing every unmentionable knob and dimple on that goosack you call a body would surely send your average person into a fit of dry heaves.

Yeah, it's a good thing nobody can see you.

Cept me.

I can see you.

Oh, not in the literal way, thank Harold P. Krishna, but in that certain OTHER way, like how one sees a pack of two week old greenish gray pork chops and still dreams that maybe there is a way to cook the stank out of them ..... kinda way.

I can see you like a person who really doesn't give a crap about you sees you.

Yes, you most certainly ARE a greenish-gray month old pork chop that has gone bad. For reals. I can smell you from here.

But lucky you. I have a whole sack of magic recipes, recipes that, like I mentioned a few lines up, will show you how to stew, boil, braise, grill, fry and bake your own reesty stank right on out. Recipes in which you'll toss yourself with a few pungent sauces, some lime juice, and maybe a whole load of MSG allowing you to plop your hammy ass right smack down in the middle of a gigantic white plate where you will be able to dribble yourself with pretentious relishes and smugly serve yourself as an exotic delicacy from some mysterious land, to a whole table of your equally rancid, comparatively gullible, gourmet gobbling pals.

Help is here.

As of next week, you will be able to tune in to this here spot in the innernet every sunday and together, we (meaning me telling you what to do and you doing it without arguing), will put a halt to this mere exisistence as the rotting hunk of moldy flesh you've become. We ---- will bring forth your inner goose liver paté to serve to your dumb friends.

Sermon style.

Look, if your friends are gonna dry heave, it may as well be because they are uncultured and just don't appreciate fine cooking right?

Right.

You can't wait. I can feel it.

BTW You can forget what I said about foie gras, that shit is disgusting, we'll actually be making a bunch of nachos.

FANTASTIC.

Now for a pretty lady.



That's all for now.
Don't get caught wrapping baloney on your hot dog!
Your Marvelous Master Chef,
Beavis

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July 08, 2006

Hola LaChoy Boy!

When I was a skinny little freckled dude growing up in the shadow of the Wasatch mountains in Salt Lake City Utah, I used to stare up at the big snow capped peaks completely positive that if I climbed to the top and swung my leg over the top edge, on the other side there would be a skinny little, slanty eyed chinese dude about my same age standing there with chopsticks and a bowl of chow mein waiting to greet me and welcome me onto the other side of the world.

Kids are dumb.

Now for some pretty ladies.


That's all for now,
Don't get caught eating all the crunchy noodles before the snot sauce is done cooking!
Your American Friend,
Bark Bark Bark Growl Bark Pee.

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