Bob Saget is the greatest actor to ever live.

That's right, I said it. And if you don't believe me, fuck you. Go watch Full House. Just one episode. It won't kill you. Personally, I prefer the episodes after Becky and Jesse got married and had the twins. That was when Michelle and Stephanie were always having those stupid pissing contests about how now that they were in 1st grade or 6th grade, they were "grown-up, mature women" now. Fuck that. You're a grown up when you're included in my spank bank, end of the fucking argument.

Now that you've spent 30 minutes in bad sitcom hell (I don't care what you fuckers say, Dave Coulier's Uncle Joey wasn't needed past season 3.), go and enjoy The Aristocrats. And watch that scene from Half-Baked, where he admits to sucking dick for coke.

Now tell me that he's not the greatest actor ever.

I spend a lot of time watching tv. I love tv. It's not that I think the shows are original or anything, it's that it's a great way to kill time. And you can judge where a society is by watching tv. But last night, I was flipping through the channels and came across some show where women compete to be a Coyote Ugly. And I wondered to myself, "what self respecting woman wants to be a Coyote Ugly?" It's like the myspace I read earlier by Lauren Hastings, where she said it's every young girl's dream to be a model.

Now call me crazy, but neither one of my sisters wanted to be models. One wanted to a doctor of medicine (she's about to graduate from U.T. with a degree in Art History), and the other is about to go to U.T. as a poli-sci major. And while I can't judge EVERY woman in the history of time on them, I will use them as the barometer.

I digress.

No, being a Coyote Ugly is a bad thing. For those of you who are retarded and saw the movie, Coyote Ugly, no explanation of what one is is necessary. For those of you who saw that trailer and said, "wow. That looks bad," here's an explanation: a coyote ugly is when you go to the bar and get so hammered, you hook up with somebody that is so grotesque that when you wake up from the drunken sex stupor, you'd rather chew off your own arm rather than risk waking them up and wanting another round.

Now, the reason why girls wanna be one is because they saw that movie and somehow missed the main points: A) that movie was so bad, NOBODY involved with it, save for Jerry Bruckheimer, has managed to salvage their careers from it. Not a single fucking one. Piper Perabo? Please. That bitch stole Leanne Rimes' man, and that's her biggest claim to fame since the movie. And point B) is that being a coyote ugly in real life, not the bartender kind, is a fucking insult. You never get with your friends and say proudly, "yeah, I hooked up with a coyote ugly last night!"

If you're a girl, and you want to be one of those bartenders, do us a favor and tell your step-daddy to stop fucking you, because it has severely damaged your ability to think rationally. It's kind of like...a specific movie scene come to life. Remember that movie, Adventures in Babysitting? Remember the part where Kris (Elisabeth Shue) catches her man cheating on her? And one of the kids she's babysitting, who also has a huge crush on her, tells him he should proud to be dating Kris? And the resident douchebag 80s boyfriend says, "don't waste your time, she's locked at the knees."?

The girl that was at the dinner kind of sniggers and laughs. Because years of her step-daddy busting a fat one on her has damaged her brain. He just called you a whore, in so many words! He has stated that he's willing to buy you an expensive dinner so he can fuck you, because he knows he can!

And that's what being a coyote is: having a guy buy you an expensive dinner because he knows you're a whore.

Fuckin' A, man.

So I thought Jack Thompson was a boil on the ass of humanity with his "violent video games are what's wrong with the world today" bullshit. But then the WBC decided they needed to protest at the funerals of the kids who were at Virginia Tech.

Can anybody tell me why these people haven't had the ever-lovin' shit beaten out of them yet?! I mean, seriously. I say a bunch of us get in a car, drive up to wherever they live in Kansas, then beat them like Joe Pesci got beaten at the end of Casino. I mean, just lay a good, old-fashioned ass-whuppin' on them, redneck-meets-mob-boss-style. Then, at the end of all the bloody shenanigans, yell out, "AUSTIN 3:16, MOTHERFUCKERS!!!"

I bet not even Vince McMahon and his greedy ass would wanna sue.

Speaking of wrestling. I was watching some match between John Cena and Shawn Michaels. Apparently, I missed Cena getting hurt in his shoulder and Michaels getting hurt in his back. But, and here's where it gets funny, I realized that if you're too fucking stupid to realize that wrestling offers proof that it's fake, then you shouldn't be allowed to watch it. Cena has his shoulder so fucked up, that he is constantly grabbing it in pain, yet he can lift a man onto said shoulder, sans problems. Same for Michaels.

I'm watching it, mildly entertained because at 11 pm, anything is fucking entertaining. But as I watch it, the announcers are like, "I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW TOUGH THESE GUYS ARE!"

That's the magic of steroids. But it's the magic of faking injuries so that they can make this crap seem more dramatic than it really is.

And before you say it, yes, I know I went from thing to another without much of a segue.

For those who spent today in bed, sleeping, there was a massive shooting at Virginia Tech. 32 are confirmed dead, and 12 are in the hospital listed under serious condition. There were 2 seperate shootings, 2 hours apart on opposite ends of the campus. Apparently, during the first shooting, located in a co-ed dormitory, the gunman (who may never be identified, as when he committed suicide, his face was too badly damaged to get a proper ID), lined people and then executed.

And very soon afterwards, Jack Thompson was on the news ranting and raving and railing against violent video games, saying that it's their fault somehow. Jack, I realize that you love it when shit like this goes down, but let me just say: shut the fuck up. It's too early. This shit just happened. Christ, Geraldo is covering this. We as responsible, intelligent gamers cannot have both you and him coming at us during all this. You went all batshit crazy trying to prove a man from an Amish fuck community shot up the school last year, and you were wrong. So before you start in here, why not, oh, I don't know, take a moment to reflect on that and perhaps get your facts in? I mean, I realize that as a young boy, a video game raped you, but seriously. Come on. Shut the fuck up.

At this point, what we need to focus on is why, after the first shooting, the campus wasn't shut right the fuck down. I mean, seriously. The gunman LINED PEOPLE UP! Then he fucking shot and killed them. Seriously, why wouldn't you shut the place down? I got news for you: even the Amish shut their school down and stopped building barns for a couple of days before they went back to their normal routine. Currently, I live in a college town (unhappily, but I do it for the children) in Louisiana. Louisiana, is a state, according to the Shreveport newspaper, that is number 10 on the Top 20 Most Dangerous States to Live In. And (and there's also no connection and you'd be a fool to make one) Louisiana is 49th or 50th, I forget which, in state-ranked education. So even if someone got all violent and whatnot here in Natchitoches, even if they got all violent, and because the state is made of retards and fuck ups, they'd still evacuate and close the place down.

2 hours in between rampages. Christ, you couldn't prevented a lot more shit if you'd just taken the time to say, "classes have been cancelled, please see the police officers in full SWAT gear to be taken to a safe haven."

I'm seriously wondering what you're thinking when you say, "no, no. We won't close the school down. This is an isolated incident. We don't need to close anything down."


Thank you, to Tim Buckley for not suing me for stealing his comic without his permission off his website. www.ctrlaltdel-online.com better than penny-arcade.com, and funnier, too.

Once again...SPARTANS!!! TONIGHT, WE DINE IN HELL!!!

OK, this may seem slightly like overkill, but this is just funny as two rats sucking each other off.

SPARTANS!!! Enjoy your breakfast, and eat hearty! For tonight, WE DINE...IN HELL!!!

Mighty Ducks and 300?! Emilio Estevez, an Iceland team that is reminiscent of Ivan "I Must Break You" Drago and the manliest man movie ever made since Fight Club?!

Yes, please.

Well, isn't this just the juiciest bit of a delicious steak.

So you might've noticed that for awhile now, I haven't referenced the Westboro Baptist Church. That'd because that group is beyond fucking insane. They have gone around the bend and lapsed themselves.

And not only did they do that, they also did with the help of their children.

I saw a video today, and there's this Limey there, right? And he asks the 7-year-old holding a protest sign, "do you understand what that says?"

The kid looks at the sign, then shakes her fucking head NO. I cannot make this up. The kid doesn't understand what she's protesting against, even after her psychotic mother breaks it down for her in only a way that a member of the Phelps' clan could.

"Fags are bad." Or something like that. She can't even call them gays, which would help her child (and thus, her fucking CAUSE!) understand what the fuck is going on. No, she has to call them fags.

What I don't understand is why, after that video is shown, someone doesn't swoop in and take the child away for a little chat.

"Your parents are fucking nuts. Do you understand? No? OK, here, this should help you. Your parents are fucking retarded. You know what that means, right? You do? Excellent. Here, meet your new foster parents."

See, I haven't mentioned them because I feel that the reason why they keep doing what they're doing is because we keep giving them attention. They're like the annoying cousin that eventually, you just take out back and beat the living fuck out of. But until you do that, you ignore them for as long as you can.

Fuck you, Beverly Cleary!

That's right, I said it. Fuck you, you make-believin' bitch! I've had it up to my eyeballs in your worlds that are completely and totally believable one minute, and the next, so hard to believe and follow up that I'm considering shooting myself so that I can escape the world in which Beverly Cleary exists to write books.

The irony here is that I find her books with Ralph S. Mouse completely plausible. It's her Ramona books I have a problem with, and because there are more Ramona books than Ralph S. Mouse books, I say, fuck you, Beverly Cleary. You read that right, folks. I have less of a problem believing a mouse can telepathically communicate with PEOPLE AND CAN MAKE VROOM-VROOM NOISES TO MAKE A TOY MOTORCYCLE MOVE!!! than I do that Ramona can come up with half the shit that happens in her life.

Take, for example, Ramona Forever. In that one book, the family cat, Picky-Picky dies, her aunt meets and marries a childhood crush, the babysitter for the girls (who is an old woman) blames Ramona for Willa Jean breaking an accordion, the mother has a baby. To which I say, fuck you. First of all, that's too much shit to throw at anybody in one book. Look at Lonesome Dove. 900+ pages, and they resolve every situation by the end of the book. Ramona has her adventures in like, a little over 100 pages. She could've condensed what all happened by cutting out, oh, most of that. Let's make the baby-havin' the priority of the book, and spend 5 chapters discussing that shit. Instead of focusing on her aunt getting married and moving to Alaska. Mostly because, it's the AUNT! Ain't no family on this planet that is that focused on the sibling of one of the parents. In fact, I'd wager that most of us don't give two tugs of a dead dog's cock about our aunt and uncles.

Secondly, the little spat with Ima Jean and the grandmother. Fucking edit that shit out. We don't need to have Ramona cry about how the grandmother of Willa Jean is unfair and doesn't like her. The bitch is old. If I had to guess, I'd say she was in her 80s or 90s. She doesn't like anybody or anything if it ain't Matlock. And of course she's not gonna blame her granddaughter for breaking shit. So you'd have to take matters into your own hands by taking Willa Jean out back and beating the living fuck out of her. She's 5, you're what, 8? 9? Take matters into your own hands.

See, if I had written that book, first of all, Ramona wouldn't be a little punk bitch. She'd be taking care of shit herself. But then, my target demographic isn't kids. It's adults.

This game* mocks me.

I sat here for 30 minutes trying to think of something to blog about.


I got nothing.





*if I ever meet the inventor of solitaire, I'm kicking the living fuck out of him and the pissing on his broken, bleeding body.