MY WEEKEND WITH A ZOMBIE, ADVENTURES WITH MORRIS DAY & THE TRANSCENDENT POWER OF MR. LEONARD COHEN WITH A SPECIAL GUEST APPEARANCE BY DR. REVEREND
Okay, so I'm back from what was very likely the greatest weekend in the history of ever.
Sorry about all the mystery, but I'm getting a lot of hits from Toronto lately, you folks know what I look like and I didn't want you deviants bothering me in public. That already happens enough, and while I try not to complain about the random blowjobs my international readership insists I receive, I don't think they'd impress my future bride all that much.
While I'm from a major metropolis where there is much to do, my Zombie Queen is not. Where she's from, the most common weekend activity is domestic violence and I try to avoid that outside of the context of BDSM whenever possible. Also, I bruise easily. So it was decided that she would come up here for the weekend.
It was nothing short of glorious. There were, of course, numerous carnal couplings which likely violated the laws of god and man and they were repeated at every opportunity. Nary a moment passed when we weren't stuffing parts of ourselves into one another. But that's what love's all about, isn't it? Surely I needn't tell an audience as cosmopolitan as mine that.
But it wasn't all flying bodily fluids and I don't want to give you the impression that it was. Just mostly. There was a great deal of culture involved as well. As some of you might know, Toronto is a major cultural center and is famous the world over as such. There is an abundance of museums, galleries and orchestras in this town I call home.
As most right thinking people are, my Zombiegirl and I are dedicated followers of Mr. Day and all of his good works. No one who has seen Purple Rain can be otherwise and still think of themselves as a reasonable human being. Anyone who didn't immediately recognize Morris Day as a latter day messiah from that fine film should be butchered like a pig. Sophisticates like Zombie and myself find such Neanderthals intolerable.
There are those of you who don't know that Gigolos Get Lonely Too. They don't know The Bird and they almost certainly are unfamiliar with the healing power of some Jungle Love. How such people made it all the way to adulthood remains one of the great mysteries of my life.
Not only had I never seen the Time before, I don't remember them ever playing here. I might be wrong but I almost never am. It was an event I have looked forward to since childhood. My excitement was palpable, all the more so because I would be joined by my great love who also happens to be a dedicated Morris enthusiast. Best of all, it was a free show at Toronto City Hall.
At the appointed hour, the band took the stage. Unfortunately, this was not the original Time. Of the backline, only Monte Moir and Jellybean Johnson remained from their 1980s heyday.
And then there was Morris. A sexy man in a pimp suit. When he appeared, the crowd gave him the reception befitting a religious figure of his stature. Indeed, our pants broke open like a New Orleans levee, such is the power of the Time's music. Hundreds of people were there and all almost certainly suffered from excruciatingly swollen genitals upon leaving Nathan Phillips Square Saturday night. If there was anyone there who didn't, their very humanity would have been openly questioned by the rest of us, and such ugliness must always be avoided.
On Sunday, things took a much more serious turn as we prepared to spend a magical evening with Mr. Leonard Cohen.
This was the show that I wasn't supposed to ever see. As you may or may not know, Mr. Cohen hasn't toured since the fall of 1993 when he was, in his words, "a 60 year old kid with a crazy dream." In that time, he has released by two albums of new material, the disappointing Ten New Songs and Dear Heather. At 73, it appeared that one of the most interesting careers in popular entertainment was winding down. I had seen almost all of my heroes, but I lamented the fact that I would never see Cohen perform live.
Then something magical happened. In 2005 we learned that Leonard doesn't know the first thing about managing money. His retirement would be short-lived indeed, which is tragic for Mr. Cohen but worked out excellently for me, and most importantly, my Zombie bride. And of course, my spiritual counsellor, the great Dr. Reverend and his lovely wife. Of course, the good Doctor bought the tickets as I am almost as bad with money as Leonard is. The Doctor is incredible with money, as one would expect, given his background.
As you may or may not know, Mr. Cohen announced a 2008-09 tour earlier this spring. Other than a handful of warm-up dates in the parts of Canada that don't matter, the tour officially kicked off in Toronto last weekend.
And it is, as some jackoff at the Toronto Star put it, "breathtaking." Of course, there are really only two kinds of people in this world, those who love Leonard Cohen and those who were born wrong and are ignorant even of the fact that they'll never be right. Those who don't love Leonard are the kind of people that less civilized nations routinely slaughter and feed to farm animals.
The show was even better than those weeping pussies at Rolling Stone said it was. The only thing I can compare Sunday nights concert to was Tom Waits in 1999. The difference being that Waits played a few songs that truly sucked even though the show in its entirety was better than anything I had ever seen. Even Leonard's weaker, recent songs were interesting and fresh on Sunday night.
Take for example, "A Thousand Kisses Deep", which instead of being performed as a lesser song, was recited as poetry so beautiful it made my girlfriend cry.
There are so many highlights to that concert that it is almost impossible to list them all. Very rarely do you find yourself in a room with true, inescapable genius. If you have any doubts about seeing a 73 year old man rock out with the best of them, you'll be eating them out of your own ass if you have the privilege of seeing Leonard Cohen live.
Unfortunately, Leonard seems to be a little shy about performing in the United States. There are no dates there as of yet, but if there are, you all should spare no expense in attending one. If you have to travel across the country and see him opening for fucking Warrant in some rancid shithole like Oklahoma, you won't be sorry. It helps greatly if you see Morris Day and the Time the night before.
Of course, you won't get to go with the prettiest girl ever. She's mine.
And then we went to Wendy's on account of my being so romantic.
What have you teenagers been up to?
Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day:Take This WaltzBy: Leonard Cohen From:I'm Your Man
I'm taking a few days off from the misery that is my life effective right now. There is much fun planned through this weekend. There's always the chance that I'll post between now and next Wednesday, but there's also a chance that I'll grow a fourteenth testicle. That is to say that I wouldn't count on it if I were you.
On the other hand, if something truly earth-shattering happens - like I lose my virginity or something - I'll certainly log in and let you all know about it. But I'm awfully attached to my precious bodily fluids, so I wouldn't count on that either.
There are certain things that you'll know when the time is right. And chances are that they'll involve my precious bodily fluids, but who can say for sure?
Of course, there's nothing stopping you from coming back over and over again over the next six days to review my five years of works of staggering genius. Show me you miss me while I'm gone, you godless bastards!
My life is a constant mystery and it almost always involves a little jungle love.
Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day:Jungle LoveBy: The Time From:Ice Cream Castle
Despite my longstanding and visceral hatred of organized labor, I actually sympathized with the drivers on at least one point of thier contract dispute, which is a big deal for me. My contempt for unions usually compells me to demand the barbequing of their membership on a fucking spit. Furthermore, the transit unions threaten the city every three years. You can actually set your clocks to it.
Transit employees have been subjected to increasing levels of violence from the animalistic ridership in recent years. That most bus drivers are irredemmable cocksuckers is no excuse. A gentleman always strives to contain his more violent impulses to his workplace and romantic relationships. Anything other than that eventually leads to societal breakdown.
But for far too long, when a transit employee is injured on the job - including as a result of criminal asssaults - they collect only 75% of their salary. However, when TTC management has to stay home as a result of a catostrophic dildo mishap, they recieve their full pay. No right thinking person can honestly believe that to be fair and for that reason, I supported the union. Almost everything else they wanted was atavistic nonsense, but they had me on their team regarding injury pay.
The TTC's current contract expired on April 1st and the unions have been in a legal strike position ever since.
I will also say that the union's president, Bob Kinnear, actually managed to come across as a serious professional, as opposed to the monsterously corrupt felons one usually associates with union leaders. Kinnear promised the pepole of Toronto that they would receive 48 hours notice if the union went on strike. For this, he received no small amount of goodwill from the citizenry.
On Thursday the 17th Kinnear announced that the union would walk off the job on the following Monday if there wasn't an agreement in principal by 4pm on Sunday the 21st. At 5pm on the 21st it Kinnear and TTC chair Adam Giambrone announced that the city had caved almost completely, giving the union everything they wanted. The three million citizens of Toronto breathed a sigh of relief.
Then this. Last night, the cocksucker membership of the maintenance union voted down the deal and there was less than an hour's notice before the entire system shut down. Every indication is that this had less to do with the deal itself than it did launching a palace coup against Kinnear.
And that's completely unacceptable. It's bad enough that taxpayers are held hostage by the greed of their own friggin' employees, but to be held hostage because a private union finds that they're unhappy with the leadership that they were dumb enough to elect is beyond the pale.
Here's an example of what will happen in my city in the coming days. In the fall of 2006, Dr. Reverend and his lovely bride went on vacation to Europe and I was entrusted to babysit their palatial estate. While they were gone, the Peel Region Transit Service - which operates outside of Toronto proper - went on strike and the city was tied in knots. Because of the increased traffic, it took me twice as long as usual to get to fucking work.
As I write this on a Saturday morning, the city is already becoming increasingly congested. Just wait until Monday morning when everybody goes back to work. Unless Premier McGuinty can legislate these jackals back to work tomorrow (and actually force them to bend to the government's will), which I don't have a lot of faith in, three million people are essentially going to be paralyzed.
It's time to annhiliate those assholes once and for all.
The transit unions, in the months leading up to the expiration of their contract, unwittingly gave the province the weapon it needs to do just that. They commissioned former NDP MPP Marilyn Churley to write a report detailing the impact of an extended withdrawl of transit services on the city. And since everyone in Ontario who doesn't live in the city are unwashed fucking savages who would joyfully resort to cannibalism were it not for the economic benovelence of Toronto, what hurts Toronto destroys everyone else.
The Churley Report - meant to garner sympathy for the transit union - details an almost apocalyptic breakdown unseen outside of the Book of Revelations. Accordingly to Churley, an extended strike would cause both environmental damage, an almost impossible burden on Toronto's poorest citizens and actual loss of life.
Delaring transit an essential service has been devated in Ontario for years. As a matter of fact, both Quebec to our north and New York State to our south have already done so. Sadly, the nutless wonders of all three parties in Ontario have declined to follow suit.
One of the conservative arguments against essential service legislation is that all matters are then turned over to binding arbitration. This only proves that conservatives are fucking idiots. The same government that can draft you into the military at its whim is the same government that can a goddamned bus driver to either accept a contract or find work elsewhere.
Not only do I endorse declaring the TTC an essential service, I would go further and revoke the ability of all government employees to walk off the job. I would also consider banning public sector unions in their entirety.
The leftist dickheads who have shaped modern Canadian society have sharply limited personal freedom in any number of ways, including speech, association and the free exercise of religion. You cannot endorse that while maintaining that public employees have an irrevocable right to strike. Sorry. As a matter of fact, if the government has the power to legislate private contract disputes into arbitration, they have the power to prevent a disruption caused by its own employees from occurring at all.
Big government cuts both ways, teenagers. If there is no unfettered right to, say, free speech, there certainly isn't a right to get fat off of the public largesse. Try as I might, I can't find a constitutional right to work for the government at all.
I'm hoping that Canada can finally produce a politician that has the balls President Reagan demonstrated in dealing with air traffic controllers in 1981. If a public employees union walks off the job, they get three days to return. Should they decline, they will have forfeited their employment and their union is immediately decertified. In a perfect world, this would be handled by blanket legislation and not on a case by case basis.
As we learned under the Reagan precedent, you only have to do it once. There hasn't been a major federal public employees union strike in the United States since. All it will take is for one set of public workers to get thrown out on their ass and have their union decertified for all of the others to get in line.
For far too long, the union movement have been allowed to paint their lives as being somehow reminesent of the finer works of Dickens and Steinbeck as they have gotten fat, lazy and stupid from the proceeds of what is essentially extortion. Well, you know what? Life hasn't been a Dickens novel in over a century now and it never was for the professional bureaucracy. As much as some people would have you believe otherwise, Tom Joad didn't drive a fucking bus for $60,000 a year.
I think it might finally be time to play hardball with these assholes. Organized labor has been instrumental in the creation of big government and the nanny state, yet somehow immune from the power it exercises over everyone else. Unfettered government power can work both ways and it should be time that the unions learn that.
It should also be remembered that all three parties to the TTC dispute, Mayor David Miller, TTC Chairman Adam Giambrone and Amalgamated Transit Union Local 113 President Bob Kinnear are all affiliated with the Ontario New Democratic Party, which is the political mouthpiece of organized labor. It's become crystal clear that these mogloids can't even agree with themselves, let alone a Liberal or Conservative government.
The professional left has never believed in the right to do anything that doesn't involve storming the Winter Palace. It is well beyond time that these motherfuckers learn that the Winter Palace is more than capable of storming them.
If the TTC's mechanics don't like deal that's more than fair and far beyond what they would get in the private sector, fire them! I'm sure that there are any number of struggling mechanics in the Greater Toronto Area who would be thrilled at the prospect of making upwards of thirty dollars and hour. If the drivers see the mechanics lose their jobs wholesale, I guarantee you that they'll show up for work with giant, stupid smiles on their suddenly humble faces.
I actually feel badly for Bob Kinnear, who has actually conducted himself as a gentleman throughout the negotiations and will likely lose his job as a consequence. Kinnear signed a great deal for his members and they rejected it because they are worthless cocksuckers. There's no way that anyone can deal with him anymore, which is actually sad.
But under no circumstances should those ghouls get a better deal than the one they've walked away from. If anything, they should lose a benefit for every day that they're off the job. And the government should publicly announce that they are training scabs as the strike continues.
Last night Kinnear released a statement expaining that there was less than an hour's notice before the strike because of increased threats of violence against TTC operators during last weekend's strike notice period. "We have assessed the situation and decided that we will not expose our members to the dangers of assaults from angry and irrational members of the public," Kinnear said.
Under no circumstances should anyone resort to violence against TTC employees. That's criminal and counterproductive, despite the fact that bus drivers seemingly receive some manner of dickhead training on the job.
Having said that, I'm not against the idea of clubbing the union leadership to death like baby seals. And I'm also not against driving nails through those clubs either.
Once you explain the situation to people like Paul McCartney with words using no more than two syllables, I think he'd understand. Maybe Morrissey would, too. Frankly, if you bring in Newfoundland's seal hunters to do the job, it could work out well for everybody.
For once, I'm actually thinking of two people who aren't me during these desperate days in this unholy age of Bush. I sincerly wish Bob Kinnear luck finding a job in the private sector where he isn't surrounded by brain-damaged curs and professional deviants. Then there's Michelle, who I've written about before and would still very much like to sexually defile in ways that violate the laws of god and man.
Eventually the TTC will go back to work and resume being overpaid for things that you can train small children to do. And when they do, you should give each and every one of them the finger. Then all of you idiots should get together and crown me as the King of Toronto so that I can unleash a pogrom against the civil service.
Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: The Ghost of Tom Joad By: Bruce Springsteen From: The Ghost of Tom Joad
ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER FIGHT WITH DR. REVEREND THAT I'LL EVENTUALLY WIN
Last weekend, I told you all about my most recent interaction with my shirpa, Dr. Reverend. Most of our conversation was about, as most of them are, Hitler's birthday and the importance thereof. But however much we like to pretend otherwise, there's more to life than Hitler's Birthday (which, by the way, is tomorrow.) There's also Canada's perpetual state of election readiness that no one other myself, the good Doctor and a swarm of journalistic layabout vermin in Ottawa cares about. It is, however, an issue worthy of discussion.
Ever since his election as Liberal leader and single most useless person in Canada in December of 2006, Stephane Dion has been threatening to bring down the Conservative minority government. And just as consistently, whenever given the opportunity to do so, he has abstained on confidence votes.
On the other hand, he's been doing it for six months in a row now. If nothing else, you really have to admire the man's stamina. Not opposing things for that long when you're the leader of the opposition must wind a guy.
Well, Dion has decided that he's mad as hell and he isn't going to take it anymore! And he's been driven to distraction by an budget amendment relating that's so inconsequential that I'm not even going to discuss it here. And this time he isn't going to take it anymore!
The only problem is that Stephane Dion is no Howard Beale. This is a guy who not a year ago, was going to bring down the government over a nasty little war that Canada is engaged in in Afghanistan. Perhaps my American readers have heard of it.
In the end, Dion backed off of that threat just as he's backed off of every threat that he's ever made. He faces the smallest minority government in human history, but he just can't seem to work up the balls to defeat it.
Liberal bloggers are all aflutter thinking that this is the time for an election. Mostly because they think that this is a time where a born loser like like their leader can win. Mostly, this is bcause of this week's RCMP raid on the Conservative Party's headquarters.
Unfortunately, this is just further proof that Liberal bloggers and their leader are abject fucking idiots. Regardless of how bad the so-called "In and Out" scandal really is, it's about campaign finance, and that's way too inside baseball for your average voter. That's doubly true when the economy is going in the toliet. If I were a Conservative strategist, I'd be begging for the Liberals to force an election over an immigration amendment that no one has ever heard of and and a campaign finance scandal no one cares about.
I'm hoping that Dion continues to be a coward. Not because I like either the Conservatives or the Liberals. I'm just So. Tired. Of. Voting. It seems to be all that I do anymore. And it turns out that democracy makes me sleepy. The time I'm spending in voting booths is time that I could be spending sexually abusing myself.
But when I was talking to my best friend without tits, the RCMP raid hadn't yet occured. Not that I think the raid will make any difference either way. Nobody gave a shit about Bill Clinton's campaign finance follies and doubt that they'll much care about Stephen Harper's.
My spiritual guide has been convinced from almost the first day of the Harper minority government that he was perfectly poised to lose the next election in a big way.
And I'm not altogether sure that he wouldn't have been wrong a year ago. Had Dion forced an election over leaving Khandahar in 2009, the Liberals may very well have won a minority on the issue. Canadians are not a militiristic people, and resent the fact that Afghanistan has essentially become a war between the Taliban and Canada, England and the Dutch. And I'm remain unconvinced that we're not exactly where the Soviet Union was in 1985.
Despite constant infighting and a complete lack of strategic infighting in the Liberal Party, it is entirely possible that Dion could have beaten Harper on Afghanistan. And he pissed the opportunity away.
Ever since then, Dion has threatened to defeat the government in the Commons approximately twice a month, only to retreat and ultimately abstain from any and all Confidence votes that would force an election. Not only has Stephane Dion lost all credibility, the NDP has been, for all intents and purposes, the official opposition for the last six months.
One thing that I keep reminding the good Doctor of is that Harper to lose, there has to actually be someone to beat him. Like him or not (and I'm not sure that he isn't actually some kind of a fucking cyborg), but Stephen Harper is an exceptionally disciplined and resourceful politician. Stephane Dion, on the other hand, is singularly incapable of getting out of bed in the morning without embarrassing himself. While Harper is completely lacking in things like charisma and human emotion, Dion is the single most unnatural politician in human history. The guy makes John Kerry look like FDR.
I thought that Dr. Reverend and I had come to some agreement that Dion is actually Canada's biggest loser and that there's more of a statistical likelihood that I'll be the prime minister of Canada before he is. There's certainly a better chance that I'll be Liberal leader in 12 months.
Apparently, I was wrong.
On Tuesday the good Doctor e-mailed me this poll, which is unique in its silliness.
The federal Tories have ended their flirtation with majority government territory, according to a new poll that puts them back to the same support levels that gave them their current minority.
The poll shows that, while the Tories appear to be improving their standing with Quebec voters, they have lost support in Ontario since Finance Minister Jim Flaherty launched attacks on the province's Liberal government.
The Strategic Counsel survey, conducted April 10-13, found that 36 per cent of voters would support the Tories if an election were held today, compared with 30 per cent who would back the Liberals.
The results for the two parties match the 2006 vote.
There's one problem with national polls in Canada: they're completely meaningless. Pollsters treat a voter in Saskatchewan as being equal to a voter in Ontario and they aren't. Canadian elections are decided in Ontario, Quebec and - to a much lesser extent - British Columbia. Since over half of Parliament's seats are in Ontario and Quebec, the rest of the country may as well not exist. The Democrats routinely win New York and California, but they don't win the presidency that often. It is mathematically impossible to win a majority government without winning either Ontario or Quebec in a significant way.
What this poll ignores is the fact that the Liberals are in a state of complete collapse in Quebec and Dion is about as popular in his home province as your average child rapist.
All of the polling in the 2006 election pointed to the Tories winning two or three seats in Quebec. They ended up with ten. This is because Quebec Liberals were so disheartened over the beating the took over the Sponsorship scandal and the ongoing Chretien-Martin civil war, that they organized for Harper as a federalist alternative to the seperatist Bloc Quebecois. There's no indication that that's changed, and the Strategic Council poll has the Conservatives leading in Quebec now, while they were running a distant third in 2006.
Then there's the polls findings regarding Ontario. Because of the population concentration, the poll probably relies heavily on the Toronto "416" ridings and the "905" ones that surround them. What the poll doesn't point out is that Harper doesn't have any seats in 416. For that reason, his approval rating can fall to zero and it will make no difference on the electoral map.
Once you get out of the Greater Toronto Area, which is the combination of the 416 and 905 ridings, voters tend to vote on either cultural issues or economic populism. And those are safe Tory issues and always have been.
What the poll doesn't address is where Harper loses seats and where Dion can pick them up. Yes, the Liberals are polling very well in Toronto, Montreal and Vancouver, but they already hold all of those seats. Liberal support in those cities can be fucking unanimous and it would make no practical difference. Furthermore, the Conservatives seem to be doing well where they already have seats.
That means the next election is going to be fought entirely in the non-English regions of Quebec. And the trends there favor Harper far more than they do Dion.
The Conservatives need 18 seats to win a majority and the Liberals need nearly 30 to win a bare minority. The problem for Dion is that Liberal support is strong where they already have seats, but is collapsing where they don't. Harper, on the other hand is holding on to his seats but has enormous growth potential in Quebec, where he doesn't.
Outside of Montreal, where the Liberals lost a seat that they've held since the Depression to the NDP, Quebec is going to be a battle between the Tories and the Bloc. And the Bloc is pretty much at their natural basement of support. The Baby Jesus could rise from the fucking dead and tell Quebeckers to reject independence and about 1 in 4 of them would either ignore him or crucify him again. The Conservatives aren't going to win committed Bloc voters, but they could win soft sovereigntists and sweep the Liberals in their non-Montreal ridings. And that alone is good for at least 20 seats.
The Liberals, as last months by-elections proved, aren't doing so shit-hot in B.C either. The Liberals have held Vancouver-Quandra for 20 years, and came within 150 votes of losing it outright to the Tories. And the Conservatives won a northern Saskatchewan riding that they had no business even being competetive in. People like Jason Cherniak and Warren Kinsella are still throwing flowers at Bob Rae and Martha Hall Findlay for winning over 60% of the vote, but they don't point out that Rae and Findlay are national figures who were running in two of the safest Liberal ridings in the goddamn country.
What both the poll and my friend are ignoring is that Harper has proven himself to be a smart, disciplined politician who has fought two leadership campaigns and two general elections in five years and won three of the four. Conversely, Stephane Dion hasn't proven himself to be capable of much of anything at all. The only reason that he became Liberal leader is because Michael Ignatieff is a complete dickhead and Bob Rae had only been a Liberal for about 10 minutes when he ran for the praty's leadership.
In the only thing that even resembles a national election, Dion only won by accident. And since he's become leader, he's retreated repeatedly on what should be matters of bedrock principle. His reversals as leader of the opposition have badly hurt his credibility and that makes selling himself as a potential prime minister almost impossible. Add to that the fact that he'll be facing off against a guy who has run more campaigns in five years than anyone else in Canadian history, and you can almost smell the apocalypse coming.
So my question to Dr. Reverend, Canada's pollsters and the entire Liberal blogosphere stands. If Harper's going to lose the next election, just how do you suppose that'll happen? And how much money would you be willing to bet on your convictions.
I'm only good at two things in life - eating pussy and calling elections - but I'm fucking outstanding at both. Read through my archives and count how many political campaigns I've been ultimately wrong about if you want to question that assertion. And the good Doctor knows about my political prowess firsthand. He's been watching me do this four times longer than the rest of you have. I don't know why he insists on continuing to question my judgement on this like this.
I can only guess that he's overly excitable because Hitler's birthday is tomorrow.
Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Little Hitler By: Nick Lowe From: Jesus of Cool
I WANTED TO KNOW WHAT LOVE IS, SHE WANTED TO SHOW ME
There's something about having your picture on your world famous blog that is both a blessing and a curse. It makes you recognizable to passers-by on the street. And when you're globally famous as I am for knowing pretty much everything, you get stopped by strangers on the street.
Unlike most bloggers, most of my hits occur during regular business hours. And most of the people who approach me on the street happen to be homeless. It turns out that I'm a big hit in public libraries across the Greater Toronto Area. Who knew?
From time to time, I'll be recognized by one of the thousands of Toronto's homeless who have nothing better to do but read my blog all day. And to a man, they'll say "skippy, I want to know what love is. However will I find someone to show me?" I'm almost ashamed to admit it, but I was always at loss as to how to answer that question. If any of you were asked the same question, you'd probably say something like "Sober up for ten minutes and stop sleeping in your own pee!" But who am I to suggest something like that? That would reek of hypocrisy ... among other things.
And that's what love is all about, unconditional acceptence. It took me nearly forty years ago, but I think that I finally get it. And I have my beautiful Zombiegirl to thank.
I've known her for years, and even though we may have been with other people, there's always been a connection between us. It's not uncommon for us to complete each other's thoughts, and if you're a regular reader of mine, you know how rare that is. I've tried talking her into getting help for that, but she refuses.
We're connected at the soul in the same way Jesus Martinez is to Lindsay Lohan(link NSFW). I love her, I always will, and I'm going to marry the gorgeous, crazy bitch someday. Then I'm going to replace her birth control pills with Tic-Tacs and tell her that they offer a new, scientifically proven level of "minty fresh protection." Simply put, she's my little rock n' roll.
But I was talking about unconditional acceptence, wasn't I?
Unconditional acceptence is a conversation I had with my pretty girl earlier today.
You see, I wake up on Sunday mornings and drink both coffee and Guinness. This is so I can wake up without the horror and tremors of being sober. I also smoke like a motherfucking chimney, which really is a wonderous thing to behold. But it also requires me to brush my teeth about fourteen times a day. I'm pretty particular about dental hygiene, even though it makes my gums hurt.
After I got off of the phone with my great friend, Dr. Reverend, I immediately got in touch with my very reason for living, so that we could talk for hours and hours about nothing. You know that you're in love when you can spend three hours talking about the fucking of Sarah Silverman and Matt Damon and Jimmy Kimmell and Ben Affleck.
After a couple of hours of talking to my zombielicious girl, I felt that familiar film building on my teeth. Because my mental illness won't allow me to tolerate that for any length of time, I excused myself. Upon my return, I explained the problem.
Me: Sorry about that, my mouth tasted like ass.
My Beautiful Girl: Oh, that's okay.
Me: But it didn't taste like your ass, which is lovely. I've actually described the flavour of your rectum as a fine wine, with a wonderful bouquet that lingers on my palatte for days, and that you miss once it leaves your mouth.
My Beautiful Girl: That's very flattering.
Me: It isn't flattery if it's true, Zombiegirl. Flattery is tool men use to get in a woman's unmentionables. That's the stone cold truth, honey.
My Beautiful Girl: Um, thank you?
Me: You're welcome. I only wish that my mouth always tasted like your ass. I'd never want to put anything else in it after I taste that. But then, after five or six days, the hunger pangs would start crippling me and I'd have to have food. Then I'd hate myself for being a fat pig.
What my mouth actually tasted like was my ass. And that just reminded me of the molstation that I didn't actually suffer as a child, but should have because I was so fucking cute.
Now I feel like I want to cry.
My Beautiful Girl: I love you so much.
And that's how I know that I'm in the geratest relationship of all time. It's a lot like Romeo and Juliet would be like if Shakespeare had an anal fixation. After a conversation like that, most women would be busy filing their infernal fucking restraining orders. And nothing gets in the way of true love like the goddamn courts do. But not my girl!
Now you know why I'm going to eat my wedding cake out of that woman's ass someday. I'm always going to love my green eyed princess.
Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Little T&A By: The Rolling Stones From: Tattoo You
I try to never leave the house unless someone either paying me or sleeping with me. I'm a solitary man and motivated almost entirely by money and blowjobs. I'm also protesting against those public drunkenness laws the only way I know how: by boycotting the fucking public.
The only drawback to that is that I don't see the great Dr. Reverend as much as I should. As I've mentioned before, the good doctor possesses a wealth of spiritual advice that has made me a better man than I otherwise would have been during our 25 year association.
There are times when I find myself morally conflicted and feeling intellectually at a loss to explain my place in the cosmos. My great friend can sense that and telephones to help me in my great spiritual quest.
"Look," he'll tell me. "Whenever life starts getting you down, find a way to blame the homos. Or the Irish. That's what I do."
When I remind him that I myself am of Irish heritage, his response is simple. "See? My advice has the benefit of being true. It would be a lot better if you were a homo, though. Then I wouldn't talk to you, and I could use the time to plot the eventual extermination of Quebec."
"How do you plan on getting them," I ask.
"Gassing. It's pricey, but effective."
I hadn't spoken with the doctor in several weeks, as he is a busy man with a complex schedule and diverse personal needs. Also, I have been following my "inner peace through power-drinking and chronic masturbation" program, and that eats up more time than you could possibly imagine. Also, I have a new girlfriend who needs to be convinced that I'm not a complete scumbag, and that takes every bit as much time as you would think it does. Once I persuade her to ignore things like facts, evidence and my face, we'll be very happy.
About an hour ago, I had cracked my first Guinness of the day and was preparing to be enraged by Fox News Sunday as is my wont on a Sunday morning. Getting drunk and screaming at the television is a great Sunday tradition in my life and this is approximately 73% of my charm. Today was supposed to be no different than any other Sunday.
Little did I know that the phone would ring.
I picked up on the first ring and was greeted with a disappointed sigh. I immediately knew that I had somehow offended his delicate sensibilities. If you're a regular reader of mine, chances are that you're completely lacking in social graces and aren't often exposed as men as refined as Dr. Reverend. There are certain lines that are not to be crossed with such a man, and the weariness of his greeting indicated that I had indeed crossed one.
"How could you have forgotten that the Pope is visiting Ground Zero on Hitler's birthday?" he asked. I could almost feel the hurt in his voice.
I tried to explain that I was newly in love and desperately so. I also pointed out that my beloved is considerably younger than I am and exhausts my mental, physical and sexual resources in ways that clearly fuck with my priorities. When he sees her hauntingly beautiful eyes and magnificent ta-tas, surely he will understand my distraction. However, I did go out of my way to beg his pardon.
"But ... it's Hitler's birthday," he explained patiently. "Hitler's birthday!" The Doctor's voice was rising perceptably. "You know that's the most important day of the year. Ever since I was a little boy in Hebrew school, I would look forward to Hitler's birthday and the joy it would bring."
And it's true. The Doctor and I have often discussed that when we have families of our own, we would bring the children together and have a party for them on Hitler's birthday every year. We would have hats, balloons, blowers and cake for them, secure in the knowledge that we would be establishing a tradition that our children would follow with theirs. I even broached the idea of having the parties hosted by Tom Lukiwski and Max Mosley, since they'll both be working cheap in the near furture.
I promised that I would atone for my transgression and atone for it in public. Dr. Reverend said that he looked forward to reading my apologia. I assured him that it would meet with his satisfaction.
So, I am deeply, truly sorry that I forgot that Pope Benedict XVII was visiting Ground Zero on Hitler's birthday. It was an unforgiveable oversight on my part and one that cannot be explained away by finding the Love that I have waited my entire life for. It was a tepid excuse and one that I would not have attempted had I not already started drinking.
And I would like to say how profoundly sorry I am to Dr. Reverend for forgetting Hitler's birthday. It will never happen again.
Once that was out of the way, we discussed the heady matters of state. But first another disagreeable part of my blog needed to be addressed.
"I see that you're defending the homos again. When are you going to learn that the homos aren't going to be there for you whe the End Times come? If you're lucky, the Jews won't abandon you because you're goyim garbage. It's a good thing that I'll put in a good word for you."
"Do you think they'll save me?" I asked, reluctant to believe that it could possibly be true.
"I think so," the reply came. "We need to keep a drunken goyim Mick you like around, so that we have someone to be superior to. After Armageddon, they'll be in short supply. Anyhow, I'm pretty sure that I can work something out."
After I explained that I wasn't defending the homos as much as I was attacking sloppy, liberal thinking, all was well in the world again.
Then we discussed the state of the environment. It appears that the good Doctor's workplace is invaded by the environmentally conscious from time to time, and they insist on warning him on the perils of global warming. Despite Dr. Reverend's protestations that "The Day After Tomorrow" is abject fucking nonsense and that those green assholes shovel his driveway, they won't leave him alone.
And that, to me, is one of the strongest cases that can be made against those Al Gore motherfuckers. If you're going to fear monger about global warming, you should volunteer the driveways of the skeptics when they get hit by 37 blizzards, like Toronto did this winter. That only seems fair. If you're going to inconveinence Dr. Reverend and I with your inconvienent truths, you should take the strained back when you're proven to be full of shit.
From there, we moved on to questions of personal morality. And that's where the most shocking revelation of the morning came up.
Without any way of preparing me, Dr. Reverend interjected with "Oh, did you know that I'm pro-life now?"
I was stunned beyond words. Although he is married and I am now in a loving relationship, I harkened back to my single days, where I would pretend to be Sam the Butcher, bringing Alice the meat. Then I thought about how fresh meat is best left unwrapped, so that it can properly breathe.
Then I thought of the prophylatics that a pro-life lifestyle demands. And then I thought about how they're almost always too small. Then I almost began weeping.
I point all of these out to my great friend, but my arguments were to no avail. The good Doctor was immovable. So I did the only thing I could under the circumstances; I asked how he could be pro-life.
His answer: "Easy. I'm pro-slavery."
More of you should have friends like Dr. Reverend. Your brunch hours would be much more entertaining.
Oh, and I recorded Fox News Sunday on my TiVo.
Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: I'll Be You By: The Replacements From: Don't Tell A Soul
JESSICA SIMPSON BRINGS FAMILIES TOGETHER, INSPIRES HOMOEROTICISM IN MAGAZINE EDITORS
I have a pretty conventional family. Each of us has a role to play within the unit. I am the cynical drunk who hides from everything and everyone as much as I humanly can. Everyone else in the family plays the role of disapproving of me and everything I stand for as frequently as possible. If you ask me, it works out pretty well.
One of the great controversies in my life used to involve my brother-in-law and, unsurprisingly, sex. He tended to get pretty upset that I often vocalized my desire to fuck his sisters. That he was fucking my sister and I didn't object to that didn't seem to occur to anyone. Now you know why I'm morally superior to everyone in my family.
However, one day in 2005, my brother-in-law and I came to an understanding that persists to this day. And we both have Jessica Simpson to thank for it.
As I often did in those days, I was giving thirteen hour long lectures on the many ways that I would violate the former Mrs. Lachey's various girly-holes if only given the opportunity. To be perfectly honest, I think it would be even more fun for her than for me as I can't imagine that Mr. Lachey was ever able to get within five feet of a girly-hole without retching and crying that it "tastes like fish."
I'm far more sexually mature than is Nick Lachey because I know that it tastes like chicken.
I've always been of the firm belief that a woman is only ever truly validated as a person when her father can't stop telling the media how fantastic her tits are. That's something every little girl dreams about and someday statues of Jessica Simpson will be erected in town squares around the world. You may doubt that, but all that proves is that I'm much smarter than you are. Just please don't ask how I know what little girls dream about. It's embarrassing.
I was explaining these things to my brother-in-law and secretly hoping that we would have something to bond over. As you might imagine, I'm nothing if not a family man.
At the conclusion of my rather lengthy dissertation, the man my sister married and fathered my beautiful nephew and niece said something that shocks me to this day. He looked me dead in the eye and said "Dude, she has a man jaw!"
I was in shock. I honestly don't remember throwing the heavy crystal ashtray against the wall and swinging the half-full bottle of Johnny Walker Black that I carry everywhere wildly, but I'm not denying that I did. It was the kind of rage that induces blackouts and memory loss. The kind of rage that I usually reserve for my professional life.
Luckily, I try to keep a veternarian's needle full of horse tranquilizer in every room that I'm likely to occupy during the course of a day. Once I lower my pants and shoot up into my wang, I'm usually rational again in mere minutes. Laugh all you want, but lives have been saved by those needles. Once I'm sufficiently calmed, I lay down and masturbate violently to visions of Zombie, De, Joan and Rosario Dawson as Jeremiah Wright puts a cold cloth on my forehead.
Unfortunately, I was warned about masturbating violently in front of my brother-in-law, and he isn't the kind to apply a cold cloth on my forehead anyway, so I tried to explain the intellectual folly of his position. As calmly as I could, I noted that all of the parts of Jessica Simpson that aren't her jaw gretatly mitigate the parts that are.
"What it all comes down to," I explained. "Is that you really only need a woman's face for the beginning of a sexual encounter. And the end of one. In between, it's all beneath the waitline, sunshine."
My brother-in-law laughed and laughed and laughed. And then he ran out of the room to tell my sister how funny I am. The point is that we're closer for the experience, and we have Jessica Simpson to thank for it.
I find myself frequently conflicted about "men's magazines" like GQ and Esquire. They present themselves as authorities on "what women want," but in reading their advice it becomes clear that they have the perspective of every woman's gay friend. But they present hot photospreads of celebrities that I'd very much like to have abort my children, so I buy them anyway.
The problem is that those fuckheads don't know anything about marketing.
This month's issue of Esquire is a prime example. These "gentlemen" got Jessica Simpson, the owner of the most glorious funbags on earth that don't belong to my beautiful girlfriend, to display her marvelous cleveage to the world. And how do they present it? With her shaving! And not even shaving something that each and every one of us wants to see her shave. They took a girl with one of the world's most beautiful bodies and made her look like a drag queen.
Look, I'm not going to deny that I've had sex with women who have better facial hair than I do, but I'm not about to put that fact out on newsstands worldwide either. Where in the fuck are these people's priorities?
To be fair, the Esquire article has several pictures that prominently feature her magnificent pokeys of doom, but those are deep in the magazine and difficult to find at your corner store when you're flipping through the magazine with one hand and fishing around inside of your pants with another. Masturbating in a convienience store is a pretty dangerous activity. That Korean at the counter tends to notice much more quickly than you would suspect. And he has the cops on speed dial. Trust me when I say that you don't have the time to futz through those smelly colonge ads to get to the good stuff.
While possessed of one of the greatest bodies ever, Jessica's career hasn't been going especially well of late. After "Major Movie Star," I think that she'd do pretty much anything to get on the cover of a magazine, up to and including stuffing a canned ham inside of herself. What does Esquire do? They feature her shaving her face.
I'll never understand journalism.
Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Girls & Boys By: Prince & the Revolution From: Parade
I don't like to look at Enjoy Every Sandwich as just another news outlet. There are trillions of those, although few of them are even remotely funny. I like to think that each and every one of my little essays carries within it a tiny piece of me that will stick to your dress forever.
That being the case, I'd like to share my thoughts about orgies with you. I like them, and the Nazi ones especially. You see, I consider myself something of a student of history and I've always been of the mind that you can learn important lessons in the unlikeliest places. And those places almost always include orgies. An orgy was after all where I learned long division.
I'm a man of endless and thrilling kinks. Having several women dressed as Nazi stormtroppers sexually menace me at once is enough to make me tremble in lust in my Warren Kinsella costume. There's something about big tits, a bullwhip and the stormtrooper cap that makes dressing like a punk rock autuer and chemical industry lobbyist feel like ..... home.
That's why I sympathize with the sad saga of Max Mosley. You know, it's getting so you can't spend a lovely $5,000 evening playing "burn the Reichstag" without everyone calling you an anti-Semite. And that's just wrong, as any fan of "Hogan's Heroes" will tell you.
In a video the paper posted on the Internet but later removed, two of the women wore black-and-white striped robes in the style of prisoners' uniforms. The video showed Mosley counting in German – "Eins! Zwei! Drei! Vier! Funf!" – as he used a leather strap to lash one of the women.
"She needs more of ze punishment!" he cried in German-accented English.
One woman appeared to search his hair for lice while another called off items on an inspection list. Mosley, naked, was bound face-down and lashed more than 20 times.
Now, if you don't think that's sexy, I just don't know what's wrong with you. No wonder so many of you can't get laid. Furthermore, if you don't know the importance of getting checked for lice, then I have no choice but to suggest that you just might be a public health hazard.
Okay, the whole sexy, sexy affair is a touch complicated by the fact Max Mosely was sired by Britian's First Family of Fascism.
Sir Oswald Mosley, Max's father, was a Labour minister, and an MP for both the Conservative and Labour parties in the 1920s. In the 1930s he became leader of the British Union of Fascists.
By 1934, Mosley was expressing anti-Semitic views and his marches though Jewish districts led to riots.
He secretly married socialite Diana Mitford in 1936 at the home of Nazi propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels. Adolf Hitler was one of only six guests.
While spending Eliot Spitzer money to be flogged by several Teutonic temptresses might not make you a bad guy, getting married at Joseph Goebbels' house just might. On the other hand, the quality of the wedding photos would be outstanding.
Needless to say, the family tree complicates matters for young Max somewhat. It isn't necessarily fair that the sins of the father fall upon an otherwise healthy perversion, but life is rarely fair. I learned that when I was three and tried to hire nine hookers to breast-feed me, and they laughed at my Spiderman underoos. That wasn't fair either. But it did lead to my humiliation fetish, and for that I'm grateful.
And I think the Goddamn Liberal Media are blowing this all out of proportion. Okay, so Max Mosley likes hookers to dress up and beat his ass with a belt. Who doesn't for Christ's sake? I would suggest that the only thing kinkier that having a half-dozen hookers check you for lice is trying to videotape it as a non-participant.
Domination and submission fantasies aren't unusual, and they not infrequently involve fascist themes. But who in the fuck gets turned on by the prospect of being Woodward and Bernstein? Other than me, that is.
Is Mosley a public figure, and therefore fair game? I suppose so, but he's a guy who arranges for daredevils to make 250 mile-per-hour left hand turns, so that argument is kind of a stretch. This isn't David Beckham we're talking about, folks. Although, having said that, fascist parents might actually be the only things that make the Beckhams interesting.
However, Formula One's prime partners are making the story more entertaining still.
But what may prove to have been a turning point in the affair came in the form of the car manufacturers' statements last Friday. In a joint statement, BMW and Daimler-Benz described the facts outlined in The News of The World as disgraceful. They added, "We strongly distance ourselves from it," and said they would await appropriate action by the federation's governing body. Honda said it was extremely disappointed and urged FIA to make "an immediate decision." Toyota said it did not approve of any behaviour that "could be understood to be racist or anti-Semitic."
Some understanding of history becomes important here. You see, DMZ and Benz were both instrumental in the Nazi war effort, using Jewish slave labor in the process. And the Japanese taught everybody a thing or two about racism during the war. Also, the Japanese single-handedly invented being sexually wrong on multiple levels.
Did Max Mosley really fuck up so badly as to warrant condemnation from people like that? Really? Compared to Japanese porn and generally being German?
But this is a media freakshow and it isn't going away. Unless Max marries Heather Mills, he's pretty much doomed. And that's too bad for him, and a tragedy for Nazi hookers and the men who love them.
And that's why I both love and loathe this story so.
Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Whatever Happened to All the Fun in the WorldBy: Frank Zappa From: Sheik Yerbouti
ON PUBLISHING CONTRACTS, BLOGGERS & THE INJUSTICE OF BEING skippy
Dreams are terrible, horrible things. They tend to be so close, yet so very far away. Dreams taunt you at every turn and make your every waking moment an exercise in withstanding torture.
For example, all I've ever wanted was a beautiful stranger with giant hooters and a snapping hoo-hoo to approach me on the street and introduce herself by saying, "My clothes itch and you look like you could really use a blowjob. Would you like to go to my place?" That hasn't happened to me once, probably never will, and explains why I gave up dreaming when I was five years old better than anything else.
It's also striking how one person's dream can be another's nightmare. I've often thought about how nice it would be to be locked in a small room with a number of undersexed Mexican women, but Brenda Martin can't stop complaining about just that.
And then there are book deals.
I've spent most of my life trying to figure out how establish a career by sitting around the house and getting drunk. The only occupation that seems to facilitate that is professional writing, preferably the authorship of books. Did you know that almost all of America's winners of the Nobel Prize for literature before 1950 were insufferable drunks? All F. Scott Fitzgerald had to do was write The Great Gatsby - which is a very short book - and he was granted a lifetime's worth of alcohol and beautifully bodied drunkard women.
Unfortunately, writing The Great Gatsby seems to take an awful lot of talent and I have none. Also, it's already been done.
Instead, I've devoted the last five years to cataloguing the reasons why everyone but me is retarded and all the truly wonderful things about the female form. Sadly, publishers don't seem to be very interested in my intellectual superiority and award-winning rimjobs. They're far too busy being swept away by scumbags like James Frey, who resort to lying about the deviant activities that I commonly get out of the way before breakfast.
Most of my readers know that I'm the go-to guy on moral degeneracy, but nobody seems to have alerted the fine folks at Random House to that fact. What I lack in inborn writing ability, I more than make up for in the ability to injest vast quantities of unwise chemicals until I fall down and vomit on myself. And that should count for something, shouldn't it?
Blogging seemed to be the ideal path to a life of irresponsible sunstance abuse and sucking up to Oprah. All the original Wonkette, Ana Marie Cox, ever did was write about being repeatedly sodomized, and now she gets to go on TV and talk about politics with Chris Matthews. I on the other hand write about sodomy on a fairly regular basis, and all it's ever gotten me is your eternal love. Oh, and it's given me the opportunity to get naked with a few women that I'd otherwise never have a shot with because I'm a congenital loser and a singularly unsightly one at that.
Don't get me wrong, there's limitless blog money out there. I'm just not getting any of it.
A good example of wild blog money is Christian Lander of the highly regarded Stuff White People Like. The New York Times is reporting this morning that Mr. Lander has signed a $300,000 deal with Random House. $300,000 for an author who almost never writes about the joys of sodomy? How can that be?
To be fair, sex is one of the things that white people like as documented by Chrstian.
Mr. Lander’s more yuppified targets presumably like sex just fine — especially if sex is with Asian women, whom 95 percent of white men have dated or wanted to date at some point, he notes in No. 11, Asian Girls.
So that's the secret! I've written at some length of my desire to sodomize white, Indian and black girls, but I overlooked Asian ones. That's not to say that I don't want to sodomize an Asian girl. In fact, there are few things that I'd like more. I'm dedicated to the proposition of building a rainbow coalition of ass.
I just didn't know that including Asian girls was so important. The great publishing houses of North America seem to have a profound case of yellow fever. Who knew?
Well, I'd just like to state for the record that I'd very much like to sodomize an Asian girl. I'll sodomize several of them at once if that'll get me $300,000 any sooner. After all, I have ten fingers that I won't be doing anything with. To show how dedicated to my craft I am, I'll even start with Asia Carerra.
A little over a week ago, I wrote a little article about the fantastic hypocrisy of Canada's self-proclaimed James Carville, Warren Kinsella, and his self-edifying campaign against cigarette advertising in a local free weekly that he both used to write for, yet also claims that people only read because of said paper's alleged advertising of underaged Asian prostitutes.
As I pointed out in that little missive, Mr. Kinsella seemed to have no problem living off of the avails of prostitution back in those wild and crazy Ninties, or he would have quit. Warren also self-identifies as a friend and "volunteer" of Ontario's premier, Dalton McGuinty. Being an innocent in the ways of politics and government, he might not have known that his all-time-favorite practioners of good government subsidize tobacco farmers and collect billions of dollars in taxes from the users of their fine and great product.
Since I'm a prick, I also used this space to ask Mr. Kinsella if his firm, Daisy Consulting Group, does any business with Big Tobacco. It stands to reason that if you feel that smoking killed your daddy (who was apparently a doctor of all things), it is fair to ask if what you believe to be blood money lines your own pockets.
There are essentially two ways for a political professional to answer such a question.
The first is to say "No I do not do business with anyone who does business with Big Tobacco and would thereby make me look like a self-loathing hypocrite who wants only punish others for my own self-perceived sins."
The second goes something like this: "Man, you sure think about me a lot. I wish I could reciprocate, it being Easter an whatnot, but I can't. God love ya, anyway."
Anybody who follows politics knows this as "avoiding the question." Avoiding the question usually means that the answer is favorable to the person being questioned. For example, if you see a politician being asked if he fucks kids answering "I'm not going to engage in gutter politics and will do my very best to keep this campaign on the issues", you can fairly extrapolate that that politician fucks kids. Warren knows how that works better than anyone.
I've receieved a couple of e-mails from Mr. Kinsella asking me to change a few things that I've written. Those requests weren't unreasonable, so I complied. Trust me, they were nothing actionable, just something that I had been asked nicely to do.
Had Warren written me privately and said "I do not in any way profit from an association with the tobacco industry", I would've taken him at his word and dropped this issue entirely. As a matter of fact, I probably would have written an apology to him and/or deleted the original post. That didn't happen.
On most issues, I really don't question Kinsella's motives. Sure, I question his logic and sanity in regards to issues like Human Rights Commissions and I think he libels people like Mark Steyn on a fairly regular basis, but I think that he honestly believes his own bullshit and I have a hard time faulting him personally on that.
But it's very hard to conclude that he's doing anything less than seperating his personal and professional interests in regard to smoking that is at best incredibly misleading. On planet Kinsella, it seems to be okay if he or his clients make money from the industry that he claims killed his father, but the height of "immorality" if anyone else does. When one calls for boycotts, it isn't unreasonable to ask if the person in question has a conflict of interest on either side of the issue.
The reason I bring this up is that I was contacted by Marc Weisblott of Eye Weekly yesterday asking if he could cite my earlier post on Warren's adventures in censorship. He didn't have to do that because what he cited would have easily fallen within "fair use" in copyright laws. Besides, I'm pretty sure that he knows that a nobody like me would be grateful to be read by the wider audience that Eye has.
It was just a classy thing for Mr. Weisblott to do. I've had my work appropriated with or without credit by big websites - including Warren's - before, and it infuriates me to no end. As a matter of fact, Warren didn't credit my work until I wrote a pissy post crediting it, and despite the fact that he had linked a famous Canadian hate website no fewer than three times that month, he didn't link mine.
Seriously, I'm not all that fucking precious about the twaddle that I write here. But being asked if you can borrow it from time to time would be nice. I'm more than willing to share. Christ, most people think that I stole "Johnny Coldcuts" from the Ace of Spades HQ. The fact is that Ace sent me a really nice e-mail asking to use it and I said that he could so long as he credited the lovely Zombie and Rowan (who sadly seems to be defunct) for the creation of the logo. Without my asking, Ace linked this blog, thus giving me more traffic than my writing probably warrants.
I'm not talking about general bloggers here. If anyone thinks that they're getting traffic from my writing, they're horribly mistaken. But feel free.
What I'm trying to say is that Marc Weisblott was a gentleman to me yesterday and wrote a really good piece exposing the talented Mr. Kinsella, which you can read here. I learned a great deal from about it regarding the way that Warren presents his interesting intrepretation of his journalistic history.
This probably means less than nothin to my international readers, but those of you in Toronto should pick up a copy of Eye, arrange a date with one or more of the whores who advertise with them and enjoy a JTI-Macdonald product with her.
You'll be helping me, helping Marc, helping Eye, and somewhere along the line, you'll be making Warren a few bucks, too.
Besides, I really want a job writing for a living,
Easy Listenining Recommendation of the Day:Something Happened To Me Yesterday By: The Rolling Stones From: Between the Buttons
As you can imagine, I have a pretty unique social circle. Mostly this is due to my having diverse interests. Frankly, it never ceases to amaze me the diversity of backgrounds and opinions that can be found at your average gang-bang.
I don't have all the great a problem with kooky conspiracy theories and would never cast aside a friend who believes them. All that I ask is that they be entertaining conspiracy theories. One of my fondest memories is of sitting at the great Dr. Reverend's kitchen table at 7 am on a Sunday morning and learning from him that the United states is the greatest nation on earth because it does what all countries should do: fight Israel's wars. Apparently, there aren't as many goyim nations that do that as there should be.
It is for that reason that I wasn't all that offended by the sermons of Reverend Doctor Jeremiah Wright. Sure, his conspiracy theories about the American government inventing AIDS and selling crack to annhiliate the black population are a touch old school, but his delivery was unbeatable. Everybody's heard their share of stupid 9/11 theories, but few of them are told with the cadence that the Reverend Wright has made all of his own. As a matter of fact, I'm thinking of changing my answering machine message to "America's chickens. Are coming home. To roost!"
If Senator Obama wasn't in attendence and applauding, he really should've been. Were Wright's sermons bigoted and anti-Semetic? Yes, but they're also super entertaining and that should count for something.
The single biggest reason that I stopped going to church was that the sermons weren't enough like the first couple of Ice Cube albums and I couldn't therefore relate to the experience. Well, that isn't an issue at the Trinity United Church of Christ, at least not with the Reverend Wright presiding. That guy is like a bipolar James Brown.
Unfortunately, Wright is retiring from Trinity, thereby depriving us all of his hilarious tirades from the pulpit. Fortunately, that means that he'll have plenty of time to hang out with me! I'm a lot of goddamned fun, too! Just ask Justice Scalia!
Reverend Wright performed Obama's wedding and I'd like for him to perform mine. The problem is that I'm just too much man for any one woman. They get tired and the pussies start to hurt. Like Jesus, I have enough love for everybody. The only difference is that my love stings if it hits you in the eye.
I need four brides, which will require a trip to Saudi Arabia. Dr. Reverend won't go there because of "all of the fucking goys", but I'm pretty sure that Reverend Dr. Wright will. It'll be quite the outing for me, Jeremiah and my brides; Zombie, Joan, De and Rosario Dawson.
Why Rosario Dawson? Well, just look at her. Also, I need a girl who's already unafraid to go ass to mouth while Jeremiah convinces the other three that ass to mouth sex with skippy is what Jesus wants.
Extreme language alert! This video is probably NSW
See? I know it, Jeremiah Wright knows it and Rosario Dawson knows it, too! Once we get Zombie, Joan and De on board, the world will be a much better place. And if a few stern lectures in Riyadh from Reverend Wright about chickens roosting won't straighten those girls out, I just don't know what will. Some of you might think that using Wright's good offices so that I might gain some quality ass to mouth time with three of the blogosphere's most beautiful women is a cynical exploitation of religion. I'd disagree. In fact, it's much cooler than the way that Obama is using him, which only to gain something as dopey of the presidency. Most voters don't want to hear about chickens roosting, but every girl who refuses to go ass to mouth needs to.
It should of course go without saying that Ms. Dawson will be excused from those sermons. She already knows everything she needs to know. Besides, I'll need some alone time with her to explore what she can do with that tongue of hers.
Some of you might think that I'm selfish and delusional for thinking that I can make these four beauties my brides, but some of you are assholes and should shut the fuck up before the girls hear you. I know that I can't get any one of them on my own because I'm horribly ugly and have a really shitty personality. That's what Reverend Wright is for. And I'm pretty sure that he'll help me out if for no other reason than I managed to work the phrase "ass to mouth" five times in just five paragraphs.
And that has to count for something.
Special thanks to Zombie (who'll be hearing from Jeremiah shortly) for the ass to mouth video.
Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Me & My BitchBy: The Notorious B.I.G From: Ready to Die
State of War: The Secret History of the CIA and the Bush Administration by James Risen Finished, Thursday 19 January 2006
A Simple Twist of Fate: Bob Dylan and the Making of Blood on the Tracks by Andy Gill and Kevin Odegard Finished, 23 January 2006
Grits: An Intimate Portrait of the Liberal Party By Christina McCall-Newman Finished, 17 March 2006
Running the World: The Inside Story of the National Security Council and the Architechts of American Power by David Rothkopf Finished, 6 April 2006
Strategery: How George W. Bush is Defeating Terrorists, Outwitting Democrats and Confounding the Mainstream Media By Bill Sammon Finished, May 10, 2006
George Wallace: American Populist By Stephan Lesher Finished, June 15, 2006
Secrets of the Kingdom: The Inside Story of the Saudi - U.S Connection By Gerald Posner Finished, June 20, 2006
Soldiers of God: With Islamic Warriors in Afghanistan and Pakistan By Robert D. Kaplan Finished, June 27, 2006
Before the Storm: Barry Goldwater and the Unmaking of the American Consensus By Rick Perlstien Finished, July 4, 2006
Flawed Giant: Lyndon Johnson And His Times 1961-1973 By Robert Dallek Finished, August 10, 2006
Bush's Brain: How Karl Rove Made George W. Bush Presidential By James Moore and Wayne Slater Finished, October 7, 2006
The Fall Of Baghdad By Jon Lee Anderson Finished, October 31, 2006
The Way It Works: Inside Ottawa By Eddie Goldenberg Finished, November 12, 2006
Child Of God By Cormac McCarthy Finished, November 18, 2006
Right Side Up: The Fall Of Paul Martin And The Rise Of Stephen Harper's New Conservatism By Paul Wells Finished, December 8, 2006
The Private Life Of Chairman Mao By Dr. Li Zhisui, Translation By Tai Hung Chao Finished, December 14, 2006
Exile On Main Street: A Season In Hell With The Rolling Stones By: Robert Greenfeild Finished, February 21, 2007
"Work Hard, Study ... And Keep Out Of Politics!" Adventures And Lessons From An Unexpected Public Life By: James A. Baker, III with Steve Fiffer Finished, March 7, 2007
Supreme Conflict: The Inside Story Of The Struggle For Control Of The United States Supreme Court By Jan Crawford Greenburg Finished, March 14, 2007
Imperial Life In The Emerald City: Life Inside Iraq's Green Zone By: Rajiv Chandransekaran Finished March 18, 2007
Memories Of My Melancholy Whores By: Gabriel Garcia Marquez Finished, March 21, 2007
Guests Of The Ayatollah: The First Battle In America's War With Militant Islam By: Mark Bowden Finished, April 4, 2007
Screwjack By: Hunter S. Thompson Finished, April 19, 2007
State Of Denial: Bush At War, Part III By: Bob Woodward Finished, April 22, 2007
31 Days: Gerald Ford, The Nixon Pardon, And A Government In Crisis By: Barry Werth Finished, May 6, 2007
At The Center Of The Storm: My Years At The CIA By: George Tenent with Bill Harlow Finished, May 28, 2007
No Excuses: Concessions of a Serial Campaigner By: Robert Shrum Finished: July 1, 2007
Chief of Staff: Lyndon Johnson and His Presidency By: W. Marvin Watson with Sherwin Markmarn Finished: July 12, 2007
Nixon and Kissinger: Partners in Power By: Robert Dalleck Finished: July 17, 2007
1912: Wilson, Roosevelt, Taft & Debs - The Election That Changed The Country By: James Chace Finished: August 5, 2007
Becoming Justice Blackmun: Harry Blackmun's Supreme Court Journey By: Linda Greenhouse Finished: August 20, 2007
President Reagan: The Triumph of Imagination By: Richard Reeves Finished: September 20, 2007
Dead Certain: The Presidency of George W. Bush By: Robert Draper Finished: October 1, 2007
Harper's Team: Behind the Scenes in the Conservative Rise to Power By: Tom Flanagan Finished: October 9, 2007
Full Circle: Death and Resurrection in Canadian Conservative Politics By: Bob Plamondon Finished: October 17, 2007
My Years As Prime Minister By: Jean Chretien Finished: October 23, 2007
The Thumpin': How Rahm Emanuel and the Democrats Learned to Be Ruthless and Ended the Republican Revolution By: Naftali Bendavid Finished: October 25, 2007
Not A Suicide Pact: The Constitution in a Time of National Emergency By: Richard A. Posner Finished, October 29, 2007
Slash By: Slash and Anthony Bozza Finished: November 1, 2007
The Heroin Diaries: A Year in the Life of a Shattered Rock Star By: Nikki Sixx and Ian Gittin Finished: November 2, 2007
Clapton: The Autobiography By: Eric Clapton Finished: November 5, 2007
Rise of the Vulcans: The History of Bush's War Cabinet By: James Mann Finished: November 13, 2007
Miami and the Siege of Chicago: An Informal History of the American Political Conventions of 1968 By: Norman Mailer Finished: November 15, 2007
Memoirs: 1939-1993 By: Brian Mulroney Finished: December 3,2007
Peace Kills: America's Fun New Imperalism By: P.J O'Rourke Finished: December 4, 2007
The Looming Tower: Al-Qaeda and the Road to 9/11 By: Lawrence Wright Finished: December 11, 2007
The One Percent Doctrine: Deep Inside America's Pursuit of Its Enemies Since 9/11 By: Ron Suskind Finished: December 19, 2007
Cheney: The Untold Story of America's Most Powerful and Controversial Vice President By: Stephen F. Hayes Finished: December 25, 2007
When Trumpets Call: Theodore Roosevelt After the White House By: Patricia O'Toole Finished: January 1, 2008
America's First Dynasty: The Adamses, 1735-1918 By: Richard Brookhiser Finished:January 7, 2008
The Road By: Cormac McCarthy Finished: January 9, 2008
The Conviction of Richard Nixon: The Untold Story of the Frost/Nixon Interviews By: James Reston, Jr. Finished" January 11, 2008
Write It When I'm Gone: Remarkable Off-the-Record Conversations with Gerald R. Ford By: Thomas M. DeFrank Finished: January 15, 2008
The Bush Tragedy By: Jacob Weisberg Finished: January 18, 2008
When All You Have Is Hope By: Frank O'Dea with John Lawrence Reynolds Finished: January 21, 2008
Confessions of a Political Hitman: My Secret Life of Scandal, Corruption, Hypocrisy and Dirty Tricks That Decide Who Gets Elected (and Who Doesn't) By: Stephen Marks Finished: February 8, 2008
The Nine: Inside the Secret World of the Supreme Court By: Jeffery Toobin Finished, February 18, 2008
The Architect: Karl Rove and the Dream of Absolute Power By: James Moore and Wayne Slater Finished, February 21, 2008
Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln By: Doris Kerns Goodwin Finished, February 26, 2008
Post Office By: Charles Bukowski Finished: March 6, 2008
Factotum By: Charles Bukowski Finished: March 7, 2008
Women By: Charles Bukowski Finished: March 10, 2008
Queer By: William S. Burroughs Finished: March 12, 2008
To Live's To Fly: The Ballad of the Late, Great Townes Van Zant By: John Kruth Finished: March 17, 2008
Twenty Thousand Roads: The Ballad of Gram Parsons and His Cosmic American Music By: David N. Meyer Finished: March 24, 2008
W.A.R: The Unauthorized Biography of William Axl Rose By: Mick Wall Finished: April 4, 2008
Deception: Pakistan, the United States, and the Secret Trade in Nuclear Weapons By: Adrian Levy & Catherine Scott-Clark Finished: April 21, 2008
The Assassins' Gate: America in Iraq By: George Packer Finished: May 5, 2008
Worse than Watergate: The Secret Presidency of George W. Bush By: John W. Dean Finished: May 7, 2008
Clinton in Exile: A President Out of the White House By: Carol Felenthal Finished: May 12, 2008
Nixonland: The Rise of a President and the Fracturing of America By: Rick Perlstein Finished: June 2, 2008
Infidel By: Ayaan Hirsi Ali Finished: June 11, 2008
The People's Machine: Arnold Schwarzenegger and the Rise of Blockbuster Democracy By: Joe Mathews Finished: June 20, 2008
The Strong Man: John Mitchell and the Secrets of Watergate By: James Rosen Finished: June 30, 2008
American Spy: My Secret History in the CIA, Watergate & Beyond By: E. Howard Hunt w/ Greg Aunuapu Finished: July 4, 2008
Legacy of Ashes: The History of the CIA By: Tim Weiner Finished: July 16, 2008
The Prosecution of George W. Bush for Murder By: Vincent Bugliosi Finished: July 21, 2008
War by Other Means: An Insider's Account of the War on Terror By: John Yoo Finished: July 25, 2008
Your Government Failed You: Breaking the Cycle of National Security Disasters By: Richard A. Clarke Finished: July 31, 2008
The Persian Puzzle: The Conflict Between Iran and America By: Kenneth M. Pollack Finished: August 13, 2008
The Human Factor: Inside the CIA's Dysfunctional Intelligence Culture By: Ishmael Jones Finished: August 19, 2008
Havana Nocturne: How the Mob Owned Cuba ... And Then Lost It to the Revolution By: T.J Enjlish Finished: August 25, 2008
Descent into Chaos: The United States and the Failure of Nation Building in Pakistan, Afghanistan and Central Asia By: Ahmed Rashid Finished: Sepember 9, 2008
The Case Against the General: Manuel Noriega and the Politics of American Justice By: Steve Albert Finished: September 25, 2008
Condolezza Rice: An American Life By: Elisabeth Bumiller Finished: October 10, 2008
Presidential Courage: Brave Leaders and How They Changed America, 1789-1989 Michael Beschloss Finished: October 13, 2008
What People Are Saying About skippy
"hands down, Canada's most underrated blog" Damian Penny, The Undisputed Dean of Canadian Political Bloggers. Posted at Daimnation , Saturday October 21, 2006
"You can count on “Skippy” to make you think in different ways about familiar issues. You can also depend on him to be rude, offensive, and outrageous – if you're offended by completely uninhibited sexual imagery (and imagination!), don't read Skippy – but your prudery will keep you from an often interesting perspective." Posted On: Jamulblog, July 12, 2007
"Your Maximum Leader is beginning to think that the less he posts, the better Skippy’s political posts are. Indeed, your Maximum Leader even thought (just a few short moments ago) that if your Maximum Leader just stopped blogging all together would Skippy just keep on writing enough good material for two blogs? (Admittedly one of those blogs would be an X-rated social commentary/diary site and the second a remarkably well-informed and insightful political commentary site…)" Posted On: Naked Villainy, September 18, 2007
"I love your writing. few could pull off sarcastic humor and self-loathing like you do. You've turned self-disgust
into an art form." Posted By:Ophelia July 19, 2003
"hahaha um, not funny" Posted By: Ophelia July 17, 2003
"This is not fucking funny." Posted By: Bee August 21, 2003
"I join Bee in saying that this isn''t funny AT ALL. jesus christ, Skippy." Posted By: Ophelia August 23,
2003
"You are obiviously being kept down by the Mud People." Posted By: DrReverend August 21, 2003
"I''ll give you $50.00 if you kill yourself." Posted By: DrReverend August 19, 2003
"Last time I read this blog." Posted By: Dave, October 24, 2003
"I think you should stop talking about killing yourself and ACTUALLY kill yourself. For fuck's sake, everybody is
tired of hearing about how you might, just do it or face the fact that you are too pathetic to even kill yourself."
Posted By: A Caring Guy, October 25, 2003
"If Joey Ramone were alive today he'd probably shit in your mouth." Posted By: DrReverend November 11,
"When you're good, you're good. When you're bad, you're even better. See you in hell." Posted By: Anna
November 11, 2003
"Skippy, if you can prove to me that giving head and swallowing will without a doubt keep lung cancer and heart
disease at bay, you've earned yourself a BJ." Posted By: Mary Magdalicious, December 5, 2003
"Wow...you know nothing about politics." Posted Dr. Reverend, December 26, 2003
"You are a dick and should think seriously about killing your stupid blog - go get a job, you big fag"Posted
By: Princess Paragonian, December 29, 2003
"You have a, how shall i say.... appealing 'tough', yet gently gay look." (Univited PM) Posted
by:Jus20012002, January 2, 2004 .
"I hope jesus doesn't kick you in the nuts."Posted By: Mary Magdalicious February 2, 2004
"Stumbled on to your blog by accident and i must say alot of the stuff had me in stitches. Love it" Posted
By:Jeremy February 4, 2004
" .....sick."Posted By: Bee February 7, 2004
"Hey Skippy, you ever consider running for public office in the states? I know some people in the West Virginia state
government and our Senator can't live forever.Hell, even Strom, Thomas-Jefferson-Fan, Thurmond died
eventually.Posted By: Ford W. Mavrick, February 9, 2004
Wow, for someone who is so opinionated, you really don't know shit about American or Canadian culture. You appear to
know even less about history." Posted By: Dr. Reverend February 13, 2004
"Your blog's the best I have come across in a long time. I may not agree with all you say but the verve with which
you say it and the humour and irreverance is terrific. These days when the media just reproduces the handout from central
control, blogs like yours do a great deal to form informed opinion in a democratic society. Thanks. Keep it up."
Posted By:Anandan February 13, 2004
"SKIPPY pities ME? Where's my noose?" Posted By: Kilgore Trout March 22, 2004
"Jesus Skippy. Now Allah is going to kick you in the nuts" Posted By: Mary Magdalicious March 22, 2004
"I could make one that says "Skippy has a small penis" although his cock is superb. Posted By: Bestest Pussy March 23,2004
"Cunt sucking is for bitches.You're considered one of the girls because you dress like one. Posted By: Dr. Reverend March 24, 2004
"John Malkovich is one sexy bastard. I have such a thing for him. And I never realized til now, Skippy, how much you resemble John Malkovich...this, by default, makes you also one sexy bastard. See how that works?" Posted By: Zombie March, 26, 2004
"Too bad you live up north. It could have been beautiful.
Ever since I started coming here and saw your pic I wondered why you weren't getting more action. You are not a bad looking guy at all.
Maybe the girls are just...well, that's enough kindness for one day." Posted By: Serenity March 26, 2004
"Hell, if they make gay marriage legal, I'll marry you..." Posted By: Outpatient March 26, 2004
"You look creepier than the REM faggot. But he looks much more like a homersexual." Posted By: Dr. Reverend March 27, 2004
"Skippy, your hits will go up again if you post pictures of your man nipples. Lots of man nips." Posted By: Mary Magdalicious April 15, 2004
"What the fuck? You turning faggot? Posted By: Dr. Reverend April 16, 2004
"Sometimes it gets to be just a little too much. Sharing, that is." Posted By: Bee May 23, 2004
"I'll give you $5.00 if you make the fucking font you use on your blog bigger.
I'll give you $50.00 if you stop fucking writing about American politics.
I'll give you $500.00 if you fucking kill youself." Posted By: Dr. Reverend May 26, 2004
"Of course women like jerks.
Why the fuck do you think they like me?
I guess you've learned nothing from me over all these years." Posted By: Dr. Reverend May 29, 2004
"Sometimes a bitch just has to die." Posted By: Ford W. Maverick May 29, 2004
"It looks like we have more in common than the swastikas carved in our foreheads."Posted By: Dr. Reverend May 29, 2004
"This might be a shallow and 'Waiting-for-Godot-like' comment but...you seem to have not only brains but also beauty." Posted By: Nietzscheswife June 7, 2004
"Skippy, you are such a twisted bastard. Seriously. Why haven't we had sex yet?"Posted By: 0phelia June 25, 2004
"Just found your site. I find some of the things you say quite disgusting. And really quite enjoyable,so keep up the good work."Posted By: Big Al June 28, 2004
"I've read most of your blog. I'd say that so far it's the best I've come across, and believe me, I've seen a few. It's funny, well written (except for the spelling...) and interesting. There will always be those few idiots who just don't get it. It's useless to get worked up about it." Posted By: Johnny June 30, 2004
"Skippy... Go for the facial tattoo. I dig em', and fuck what those other bitches think. You can always bite their tits off if they back talk you." Posted By: Mary Magdalicious July 1, 2004
"Go fuck yourself up your butt." Posted By: Reek Stankleberry July 6, 2004
"Well if ass-fucking won't keep Satan away, I just don't know what will." Posted By: Dr. Reverend July 7, 2004
"dude, you're killing me. keep it up." Posted By: Son of Nixon July 22, 2004
"Are you always either naked or in a suit?" Posted By: Rehella July 22, 2004
"That person should speak for himself or herself. 'Cause you really are that much of a cunt, skippy." Posted By: Kilgore Trout August 4, 2004
"I've read you for a long time but have never commented before. That isn't a slight to your great writing ability, it's mainly because I don't want to be seen here!" Posted By: Paul August 4, 2004
" Dead on. Bulls-eye. I take back what I said about you being a cunt. For now." Posted By: Kilgore Trout August 4, 2004
"Know what, Skippy? You're alright." Posted By: Anna August 18, 2004
"Excellent work. Damn you for being so dead on." Posted By: The Maximum Leader August 24, 2004
"Skippy, fuck the puppy idea. Try getting a monkey that smokes. That will get you laid." Posted By: Mary Magdalicious August 27, 2004
"As to the beard - I like the clean shaven better - and what's wrong with a bald head? Bald heads are hot on some guys - unfortunately most can't pull it off * sigh * You look like you can pull it off though and that's a good thing - not a bad.
BTW, love your blog. I saw it in my referrers and thought it was just a random hit. Then I started reading and found you to be hilarious - it was only after about 10 posts that I noticed you linked me. I was more than flattered - linked by someone I was about to link anyway - awesome. Thanks" Posted By: Kinky August 27, 2004
"Fuckin' Goy bastard." Posted By: Dr Reverend December 19,2004
"Who does a guy have to sleep with to get one of his Skippy quotes pasted to the sidebar?
Great googly-moogly." Posted By: Smallholder December 20, 2004
"Are you a child molester or what's the story?" Posted By: Fukinator, December 28, 2004
"Sick dude." Posted By: DCayer December 29, 2004
"You officially suck." Posted By: Sorry, January 22, 2005
"I heart you, Skippy" Posted By: Karinsky, January 25, 2005
"As I've stated before, you were quite skilled in bed and I had no need to fake any of my multiple orgasms." Posted By: 0phelia, June 30, 2005
"I love Skippy. I swear I do. The only blogger more twisted than me." Posted on: Velociworld, July 26, 2005
" You are so fucking ignorant about America. And while the American people ARE stupid, so are you." Posted By: Bill Lassiter, August 2, 2005
"How can you not love a man who hates himself so viciously?" Posted on: It's All About De , August 31, 2005
"If I wasn't positive that all Canadian men had tiny penises, I'd be all over that Skippy." Posted On: It's All About De
"I've seen pictures of you and I'd say you're fuckable." Posted By: Joan, September 29, 2005
" I love your posts on Canadian politics even more than I love your posts on porn.
And I love your porn posts.
Why the hell do you waste all this talent on the internet? Write a book or something, goddammit! Posted By: Cliff S., November 17, 2005
"Let it never be said that underneath your self-cavilling, bitter (yet strangely egomaniacal) surface that you never take the time to give the people what they want. Even if it's just one people. Gawd bless you, Skippy! Posted By: Locke, November 18, 2005
"Wow! I don't know that I've ever been flattered and yet somewhat revolted at the same time... It's an interesting sensation." Posted By: Dewey in Toronto, December 1, 2005
"Very often, debating you is like playing whack a mole: You pop up some premised assertion moles, I pull out my mallet and start whacking, then you pop up more premised assertion moles - which are mostly or completely unrelated to the original moles I was whacking at. Your stock of moles seemingly stretches into infinity. And yet, an endless supply of moles does not equate to cogent argument.
Very often, debating you is like speaking to a salesman who will not answer a particular direct question, and instead flies off on the flight of rhetorical splendor known as "baffling them with bullshit." I'm impressed with your rhetorical skills, and your IQ, and your accumulation of knowledge. I'm impressed that I'm the American citizen, yet you might have a more thorough knowledge of the American Constitution than I. And yet, these impressive things are not substitutes for cogent argument."Posted By; gcotharn, December 21, 2005
"Besides, you seem to think you're the least respectable person I know. While you're often right, you're wrong on that count. Careful, I might out YOU as a nice guy. Or something." Posted By: Dewey In Toronto, December 27, 2005
"I've been to Toronto. The most dangerous thing I saw there was an 11 foot tall red head with shaved balls."Posted By: Judy, December 31, 2005
"There was this "Caught on Tape!" video I watched back in my highschool days where one of the scenes shows two people starting to cross the railroad tracks. One looks up at the last minute and sees the train, the other does not. In the commercial, it cuts away just before the train does its thing, but the video...
Your blog is like a twisted version of the video. We know the train is going liquify you in shocking gory fashion, but that's why we keep coming back. It's so much more fun that we both know the train is coming and you still gleefully walk into its path...and we love you all the more for it." Posted By:Locke, January 13, 2006
"Fuck. I'm hooked." Posted By: DeAnna, January 14, 2006
"Your Maximum Leader has found Skippy's commentary more insightful and interesting than anyone elses. So now he supposes that Skippy will go back to writing about porn and strippers he meets in the subway." Posted By: The Maximum Leader on Naked Villainy January 24, 2006
"Slightly crazed is fine, but with the beard you look like a total nutjob. If you ever hope to get laid again, for fuck's sake, Skippy, NEVER, EVER grow a saddam beard. You're welcome."Posted By: The Lady O, 28 January, 2006
"Maybe we should get married. My readers could support us by purchasing my worn panties and you could be the panty pimp." Posted By; Joan 28 January 2006
" I know it must be hard for you...being objectified by women all the time. But come on, how can they really help themselves? Have you seen yourself lately? Your pheramones preceed you into a room (as does your crotch). Don't blame it all on them...you did choose to leave your house. :D" Posted By: Joan, 3 February, 2006
"Skippy, you sarcastic twerp." Posted By: Arwen, 8 February 2006
"Just so you know.. if I had to choose between Moussaoui or Skippy.. You'd win. Even if I know what an asshole you are. Posted By; Judy, 13 February 2006
"I'd be willing to sign a legal document stating that is IS ok, in fact, to masturbate whilst thinking of me." Posted By: DeAnna (Who seems unaware of my reputation as an outlaw) February 24, 2006
"Feel free to masturbate while thinking of me...actually, do you need some of my panties to help you with that?" Posted By: Joan, February 24, 2006
"I blame myself for this. I have been too lenient with you. Your Godless behaviour must come to an end. You will receive a severe beating this weekend and I am contemplating removing your testicles." Posted By: Dr. Reverend, February 24, 2006
"Just remember skippy, the US never threw a fit when you smuggled your own personal WMD over the border twice a year. After all, it wasn't like you were hiding in your pants or anything.
All's fair in love and war, so to speak." Posted By: Judy, April 4, 2006
"Wow...nothing hotter than a man willing to issue fatwas for pussy." Posted By: Joan, April 16, 2006
"You sir, are a brilliant writer." Posted By: Judy, May 4, 2006
"I think I'm falling in love." Posted By: DeAnna, May 11, 2006
"THIS IS THE MOST DIABOLICAL FALSITY YOU HAVE EVER ENGAGED IN!!!!
I was intending to kick you in the face upon our next meeting, but now it's obvious that I must douse your scrotum in kerosene and set your testicles aflame. Alas, it is the only way you will learn." Posted By: Dr. Reverend, May 12, 2006
"And i would like to commend you on some excellent blogging. This particular story would normally warrant a few cryptically humorous lines and a link. To an ordinary blogger. But you managed to wring an essay of New Yorker-esque proportions out of it. That takes talent. Your beautiful young friend is right. I see big things for you in the future." Posted By: Annika, June 4, 2006
" I like a man who will unabashedly tell someone his penis size because hes unashamed. Thats hot.
*raises hand* I'll take that 6.5, thank ya" Posted By: Kinky, June 6, 2006
"Elvis, like skippy, is the very definition of rock and roll. Posted By: Rube, June 10, 2006
" I'm beginning to think you're the only good man left in the world, skippy. WTF?" Posted By: By: DeAnns, June 11, 2006
"Just so everyone knows.
Skippy does indeed, taste like bacon.
And, any guy who doesn't know cum tastes good to real women, is clueless." Posted By: Judy, July 2, 2006
"There was a British columnist whose work was described as 'a suicide note in weekly installments.'
This blog is sort of like that." Posted By: Gadfly, July 6, 2006
"Jeez, Skippy. Sometimes I really hate coming here." Posted By: Cynlee, July 18, 2006
"Someone needs to throttle you with a riding crop...truly!" Posted By: Joan, July 18, 2006
"Holy mother of god. I just had an orgasm. It's official: I'm devoting the rest of my life to you, skippy." Posted By: DeAnna, July 19, 2006
"Skippy, sometimes I'm not quite sure of your sanity, but you are without a doubt the baddest morning news reading, quiz show hosting, talent introducing PIMP in the motherfuckin' blogosphere." Posted By: Shank, July 19, 2006
MY WEEKEND WITH A ZOMBIE, ADVENTURES WITH MORRIS DAY & THE 
JESSICA SIMPSON BRINGS FAMILIES TOGETHER, INSPIRES HOMOEROTICISM IN MAGAZINE EDITORS
