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Saturday, September 08, 2007


WHEN CHILDREN ATTACK: PRE-TEEN WASTELAND EDITION

Whenever someone with a name like Joan of Arrggh speaks, I listen, at least for a time. However, my mind quickly begins to wander and I start to consider what kind of noises a woman with a name like that makes during a bout of vigorous copulation. Have I ever mentioned that I get distracted easily?

Besides the erotic possibilities her name presents, Joan also runs a quality little blog. You should check it out. Really, I mean it this time.

A couple of hours ago, Joan sent me an e-mail directing me to a Greenpeace video featuring a petulant little cocksucker of a kid, alternating between moaning about the environment and threatening adults. Joan figured that I might have some thoughts on the clip and she was right. God, how I love a woman who shares an interest with me - specifically, what I think about stuff.

If there are two things that inspire a truly awesome hatred in me, they would be children and the environment. Liberal fuckheads everywhere have spent decades telling me that I should be kind to both, despite the fact that neither has done a goddamned thing for me and my quality of life. If you combine the two, I quickly become incandescently enraged. The exception of course being LBJ's 1964 "Daisy" ad. If those dwarfish half-wits love the environment so much, I suggest we tie a few of them to an anvil and drop them in the fucking sea so they can be even closer to it.

There is of course one exception. That would be Velociman's daughter. I suspect that she can do a great deal for my quality of life. But that's another story for another day. I did mention that I get distracted easily, right?

Children - who I define as anyone under the age of, say, twenty-five - are society's most useless citizens. They're too small to fuck and too stupid to have a halfway interesting conversation with. They consume far more than they produce and are therefore the very definition of a parasite. They're short, silly, can't eat without getting food all over the place and can't tell a decent fuck story to save their lives. I'm genetically incapable of trusting anyone who is too short to play basketball with and doesn't pay taxes.

Furthermore, the little assholes have way more fun than you or I ever did. Despite being broke, vertically challenged and funny-looking, with their giant heads and teensy bodies, they get all the best drugs and are engaged in almost constant rainbow parties. Yet the insolent curs have the temerity to whine just because they have no future to speak of and get molested from time to time?

You know what? Fuck them! The overwhelming majority of Fall Out Boy's fan base is under 18 and anyone who likes that band deserves all the horror fate dishes out at them. There are some diseases that only a mightly flood can eradicate and I'm not one to question nature. If it were up to me, the tiny motherfuckers would be packed in a crate and shipped to the Sudan where they belong. The Janjaweed militia knows exactly how to cure little bastards like that of their cheek.

Seemingly for no other reason than to annoy me, the misfits at Greenpeace recruited the angriest little prick they could find for their latest commercial. Just listen to this ill-mannered mongloid and tell me that you don't want to force him to watch his parents be immolated before his eyes. No kid who hasn't seen his folks being barbequed has the right to that angry. There should be no reason that we should suffer the effect if we don't get to enjoy the cause, no?

And you all thought I wasn't a people person.



Generally speaking, I'm a great admirer of outrage. but I refuse to tolerate it from someone with a better drug dealer than me and seventeen different shades of lipstick on his immature, mutant cock. If that ungrateful cancer of a kid belonged to me, I'd beat him half to death with a vodka bottle and sell him to a sweatshop in Ecuador. That malignant cur has all the hostility of the star of a snuff movie just because it's too sunny outside? That tells me that his priorities are well and truly fucked. After all, has he not a hoodie? Would a tan ruin his lefty cred?

By every measure of my own incomprehensible misanthropy, I should relate to hoodie kid. On the other hand, I have a sense of humor and the blowjobs I've received have been largely consensual.

The idea of a prick like that with a hoodie and a scowl threatening me with his "future" tells me that that future consists of little more than holding up liqour stores and date rape. Maybe he'll get lucky and grow up to be K-Fed. In either case, global warming is simply too slow and too unreliable to stop this half-pint menace. We can either smother him with a pillow now or wait for the state to administer a lethal injection. I'm the practical sort, and much prefer doing things sooner rather than later. But you already knew that about me, didn't you?

Issuing a fatwa against adults indicates the short-sightedness of malevolent little bastards like this. He should be aware that the same SUVs that pollute his precious little atmosphere are more than equal to the task of running his runtish ass over. The same resources that build coal-fired power plants could put him on a fossil fuel burning jumbo jet and have him starring in a kiddie porn double-feature in downtown Bangkok by tomorrow afternoon.

One of the joys of adulthood is the wisdom of knowing not to start a battle with people bigger, stronger, smarter and possessed of greater resources than you. What our tiny terrorist and his Greenpeace ghoulish mentors don't seem to have figured that while he may not be a kid tomorrow, if they're right, the sun will explode and they'll all die of vicious cases of excruciating asshole cancer.

The kid gets run over, dies of UV induced rectal cancer, or becames an adult himself and learns how life really works. No matter what happens, I win and he loses. I love it when that happens.

If Greenpeace right, the good people of Brandon, Manitoba will someday be the proud owners of beachfront property and Al Gore will exact his revenge on Florida. If I'm right - and I am - all we have here is yet another example of liberal shitheads making empty threats through people who polite society demands that you don't respond in kind to. You may not have noticed this, but I'm not polite society.

If Greenpeace wants to get all "Baba O'Reilly" on us, there's one lesson they need to learn something about being out here in the fields and fighting for their meals. That would be that it is an endeavour where only the strong survive. And ponytailed, latte-drinking cocksuckers who drive a Prius and hide behind children are pretty low in the food chain.

If and when the planet melts and the Law of the Jungle takes over, life becomes a question of who will eat and who will get eaten. When the End Times come, the strong, smart and resourceful won't be cute and they won't be patronized either. They'll rip and tear into the flesh of the Friends of the Earth and the hoodie-wearing pre-teen James Dean wannabe buddies with their teeth and claws and devour them until all that is left of them is their bones, hair and the lingering scent of their fear.

Having said that, I can see why Greenpeace would put such an ad out. It turns out that spinning an apocalyptic yarn is great fun.

Video lovingly stolen from Primordial Slack

Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Baba O'Reilly By: The Who From: Who's Next

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