The Thanks Taking

Hideous. Diseased. And sanctioned by God.

As Ozzy Osbourne once said, "God cursed all of you."
Well, and more to the point, I've never been a church-going type, but I'm happy to say that I finally found a bunch of people who really get it: The Westboro Baptist Church of Kansas, U.S.A.!

They care about things that are irrelevant and stupid, sure. They do such ridiculous things in pursuit of a completely one-note political agenda, it's like they're funded by some liberal slush fund or something.
And of course, they certainly look like a bunch of exquisite little men who talk a little too much about their wives while they're "fellowshipping" at the gym...And their women are all tanks, but still, they do get the most important message of all:

GOD HATES THE WORLD! It's so great to finally find a church that 's willing to admit that!
Check out their rad video!




Wow. I normally hate choirs. This almost makes up for my tumor/plague ridden turkey I'm forced to eat (It's Law) every year at this time.
But unlike my increasingly vindictive and childish Tormentor, I like the world. The world has cupcakes, and Oprah, who has her own catalogue (!!!!), where you can buy clothes to identify yourself as part of Team O! Here's a sneak peek!



So, in the world to come where everybody will dress like A Fat, so nobody feels bad about themselves, people will finally stop worrying about the God thing altogether. And for that, I'm taking some Thanks this year.

The Moustaching of Indeterminate Sexual Orientation

Hey everybody: it was just 'Stachetober! I went ahead and grew out my facial hair, and just as soon as November First rolled around, I shaved it right off again!
This adjunct to Rocktober (tm) is pretty darned great. Damned great! It's one thing to have one month set aside each year for the express purpose of rocking as hard as possible, but to add the unfairly-discriminated-against Moustache to the mix is pure brilliant genius!

But now: it's November, or, as some would call it, Mo-vember. At first I figured, well, why not? It's not as catchy as Rocktober, but it still rhymes, and why not set aside a month for...More, I guess.
But then a friend of mine tells me (okay: it was my girlfriend Stacy) that it's really 'Mo' as in ho-Mo-sexual, and that you're supposed to...Be gay I guess, but at no point else in the year, or something?

First the moustache, now this? How am I supposed to deal with the already way-out-of-control widespread notion that I'm already gay? I mean, pretty much any time you see me portrayed in mass media, it's as a lisping, swishy guy.
Between those damn commercials for Underwood Devilled Ham (tm) in the Seventies (remember? A family is confused about what to have for lunch, when this tiny red dude with a tail and a pitchfork pops out of the canned food aisle and slobbers like an elderly pederast, "Hey gaaaang; how 'bout a great tasting sahhhnd-wich made with Underwood...") to what they did to me on 'South Park', I'm always a figure of ridicule. And it's ridicule bordering on hatred, natch, since these are the People of God we're talking about here, and they, like their boss, Love to Hate.


I mean, just look what they did to me on 'The Powerpuff Girls'! The character is only known as 'Him', but it's pretty clear that it's supposed to be Me. For what it's worth, out of all the homosexuals I've known (a few), I've never met one who liked dresses.
Or maybe some did, I don't know because I'm Not Gay. I've had a harder time with this than Aquaman, or Robin (The Boy Wonder) (tm).
He ('Him') doesn't seem to be a man who likes boys. He's really honestly A Girl who occasionally rises up to thwart The Powerpuff Girls.

Well, that- to my mind- is not me, nor is it being A Gay.

Above all else, I'm pretty sure that Stacy doesn't appreciate it. Well, actually she thinks it's pretty funny. But my point remains the same: I also haven't had a tail or carried a pitchfork since The Middle Ages, so why should I still be marred as something that I Am Not-not that there's anything wrong with the thing that they're claiming that I Am!

Matter of fact, based on how dimly the whole same-sex thing is viewed in The Gospels (tm), I'm gonna go ahead and say that The Gays Are My People! They are despised by God even more than he despises humanity at large! Even more so than his weird fucking hippie son hated fig trees (WTF?), and even more than those who wear cotton/poly blends (it's in there, folks: look it up!).

Now, I know that a fair amount of The Gays wish they could be accepted into the church, and all I have to say to that is: how sad. I feel the same way about Jews For Jesus (tm). Yes, next time I find a bar full of Avenging Archangels, I sure do think I'll march right up to them and say, "Hey, I know you hate me and everything, but I don't see why that should stop me from joining up with you, and being benignly tolerated while occasionally having to listen to kindly advice about how maybe just maybe I should stop being Me."
Yes. That would be good. I can imagine the looks on their dirty, stupid faces.

Just go ahead and accept it. God hates you, he hates Me, and he reeeally hates The Gays. Can't we all (the rest of us) just get along? I can see a Utopia of sorts occurring here on Earth (one of my titles is still 'Lord of This World', you know, as if that's some sort of bad thing), once we collectively turn our backs on that psychotic Hebrew War Deity That Lives In The Sky, and get back to the world we live in.
I can just see him now, squirming and shrinking comically, going, "NOOOOOOO!!!", just like that tiny...Green, effeminate demon thing in your dishwasher that I'm pretty sure was also supposed to be me on commercials for Calgonite in The Seventies.

So, I'm probably going to keep a low profile in 'Movember, getting back on my game right as Decimationember (or whatever) rolls around. Meanwhile, if you're acting like it's 'Movember even when it's Juneteenth, it's all good, bro!

The Indigo Girls of Just Not Being Fair

You know who I like? The Indigo Girls.

Their melodies are so textured and gentle. Their harmonies? A+! The song "Closer To Fine" changed my life. It made me cry. They're so brave and crazy (apologies to Melissa Etheridge!), they just stand up there and play their acoustic guitars and tell the patrimony to go shove it somewhere. Even when they're singing about something that frankly doesn't sound like that big of a deal, and certainly not an injustice, I L-O-V-E T-H-E-M!
That line in 'Closer'? "It's only life afteralll...Hyeah." It's just so great how she underscores, just with that little 'hyeah', how life really is a big deal, you know? Why can't you see that, Men?

But I have to say, when they get around to dealing with Me, they're just not fair. I mean, look at this:

" I don't know when i noticed life was life at my expense
the words of my heart lined up like prisoners on a fence
the dreams came in like needy children tugging at my sleeve
i said i have no way of feeding you, so leave
but there was a time i asked my father for a dollar
and he gave it a ten dollar raise
and when i needed my mother and i called her
she stayed with me for days."

Okay, we're still getting to the part where they're mean to me. This is the song "Prince of Darkness", by the way. But they seem to be talking about...Well, I don't know, but on the other hand, I'm not always the sharpest knife in the drawer when it comes to poetry! I'm sure it's very good, and it's my fault that I don't get it.
But I can already see Amy (or...Rachel?) setting me up for a fall here. I've been mistreated by poets before (and movie producers!). She's a victim of some kind, that I understand. Of what, I couldn't tell you, but it's clear that pretty soon ...So one time her father gave her Eleven Dollars, and that's a bad thing? Her mom cares about her a lot? And she ignored the dream babies that were tugging at her sleeve like prisoners?
Something like that. But now look:


"now someone's on the telephone, desperate in his pain
someone's on the bathroom floor doing her cocaine
someone's got his finger on the button in some room
no one can convince me we aren't gluttons for our doom
but i tried to make this place my place
i asked for providence to smile upon me with his sweet face
yeah but i'll tell you
my place is of the sun and this place is of the dark
and i do not feel the romance i do not catch the spark
my place is of the sun and this place is of the dark
(by grace, my sight grows stronger)
and i do not feel the romance i will not be
(and i will not be a pawn for the prince of darkness any longer"

Um, you know how often I get blamed for cocaine use? Pretty much every time one of you crybabies gets depressed the day after, that's how often. And nuclear war? Now, I suspect that Ozzy Osbourne had more to do with this than the Girls, but I get this one a lot. I'll say it again: that was You, you stupid morons!
And at what point did anyone ever say I don't like sunlight? I'm asking.

Worse yet, I get the overwhelming impression that I'm being sort of blamed for her not liking men. I'm jus' sayin'. She (whichever one of them wrote this) was never my 'pawn', so that means that she never had to take any heroic steps to break away from me and get all the freedom that they occasionally sing about. When they're not singing about the million and one nasty things people do to them all the time.
I mean, if they really want to attack the male principal at large: Hel-lo? That's God!
The guy insists on being called 'Father' (when he's not being called 'Lord'-ew.), and that kind of thing is just wrong, and makes him look even more like an abusive parent later on, when he does the mean things he's always doing. Like making both cocaine and war.

I don't know, I like the Indigo Girls (so does Stacy!), and I just don't see what it was I did that makes them sing so passionately and clearly about the need to avoid me? Or even obscurely and indirectly? But they use my name, okay? It's really not right. Oh, how would anyone like it if I said, "Amy Ray, you're responsible for smog, okay? Stop it!" She'd hate that!

So get it together to stick it to 'The Man', which is to say God. He hates everyone, especially women (based on my reading), and don't even get me started on what I'm pretty sure he thinks about lesbians.

The Polo Shirt of Lost Causes

Fame! I'm famous! This really cool guy somewhere really likes me!
Matter of fact, his blog is called, "When you're burning in Hell, I'll ask Jesus if I can send ya' some KoolAid", which is for one thing-evil (he left out both the dash and the Registered Trademark symbol from Kool-Aid, which is one of the many fine products of Kraft Foods), and for another, hee-larious! He has a lot of cool friends that obviously genuinely like him, and it's not like they're crazy and pathetic or something! I bet he gets a lot of "chicks", and doesn't live in his mom's basement! Not by a long shot!

But something I don't get at all is why they keep asking if I'm being 'sarcastic'. What's to be sarcastic about when you're me? I don't know: maybe it hasn't occurred to someone like "Mister" (LOL!) that I happen to posess every awful secret in the universe, including the central, most terrible one of all: There is a God, and He hates you!
That's not all, either. Not by a long shot. Along with having heard not only God's Confession (it's a doozy), I also have photos of him weeping at his mom's breast as an infant (and you don't want to see what his Mom looks like), which is really the one thing I use whenever I need to hold something over him. He just goes to pieces, and is all like, "Gimme it! Gimme it! It's mine!", and I'm all like, "Oh what? This picture? This picture right here?" as I keep it at arm's length. His arms flail childishly, hopelessly, and I just laugh and laugh. But I haven't seen him in ten-thousand years, so the joke kind of loses its zing.

Well, that's another thing. His Mom. (This is a big one. I'm really not supposed to tell you this one.) Since she's really just some sort of Hate Virus from Outer Space (I don't make the rules), once she gave birth, the Management had to come up with some sort of physical being for the Child to imprint as Mother.
But we were all a lot more stupid in those days shortly after the creation of the Known Universe (tm), and a bit strapped for technology, so what she is is...
I can't say it. If you were to know the identity of the True Mother of God, you would posess powers unknown to Man. By reading this 'blog', you would automatically have something to throw in God's face the next time you see Him! You would no longer be afraid of...God, God would be afraid of...You, and...

She's a water heater. She's a water heater that they stuck a washtub on top of, and then painted on a face with some lipstick. You shoulda seen how the little guy loved that thing. When he went to school later (Space School though: you probably haven't heard of it; it's in space), the other deities made so much fun of him, pretty much every day he'd run home screaming and crying. Then when he got there, he'd throw his arms around that damn water heater (which some of us named 'The Licorice Demon', for reasons I really can't divulge) and feel a whole lot better. She was so warm.

Of course, when he (fin-ally) grew up and realized that his 'mom' was actually a water heater (and a functioning water heater: it was in Ashtoreth's basement), he went twelve kinds of Jealous, Vindictive, Hangin' Judge God crazy, as pretty much everyone can attest. This is a Great Secret.

So if I know that, I think I can safely say that I know everything about my new Buddy in Blogland, too (note: posting pictures of yourself from ten years ago, before you gained a hundred pounds, is unfair, I'm just sayin') . I know all about you, and you too, so let's be friends. Maybe we can get it together to finally send that Letter of Termination to that bastard up in the Skybox, eh?
And I'll teach you the value of learning to take as good as you give. It's valuable.

I bought a polo shirt today from John McCain 2008, because like I said, I'm omniscient, and I appreciate a good laugh as much as anyone. I dunno. It's blue. I like blue.

The Stacy of Prurient Interest

I'm going to say it. I'm scared of my girlfriend. I mean, I'M IN LOVE FOR THE FIRST TIME, AND IT FEELS REALLY GREAT!
We have sex before marriage, because that's really, really evil, unlike my (I think) brother, Jesus. He doesn't get it. We were sent among...These, because we are to learn...Something about Loving, and why...

Look, God is Wrong, and I try to tell Stacy about it, but she never listens. The other day, we're going out to ride motor-sickles (We have them. They're dangerous.), and I'm strapping on my helmet, when I look over at her (hot!) self, and say, "Hey, aren't you going to wear a helmet?"

She just laughs and says, "What are you? The Lamb of God, or something?" And then she started laughing really hard. I tried to tell her: hey, no fooling now-He really hates you. If he looks down and sees you riding un-helmeted across His black, black pavement (note: God is Black), He'll almost certainly strike you down, since that's pretty much the only way He gets His jollies.

She just laughed and sped off, peeling out a little. I sat there shaking, looking over my shoulder. He knows...
I felt stupid, but I also know what an evil little crybaby He can be. Stacy? She cares Not. She's just out for 'kicks', and probably doesn't listen to me anyway. But I have a message for her, and for all mankind: He's out to fuck You. Watch it.

Stacy likes to drink lots of booze. I like to join her in this because it's sort of argued against in the Bible- well, inasmuch as anything is clearly stated in that book. But I also want to say: hey now, you know that stuff leads to necrosis of the liver and stomach cancer, right? Because God...She ends up laughing (with) me at that point, and orders another twelve mojitos. I go back to my Midori Sour (what? They're good!), and just keep my peace.

Then she starts screaming/giggling, and talking about how we need to have premarital sex on the lawn, in front of God and Everyone-hey. She actually used that exact phrase.

She looks at me sometimes, and I see fire in those eyes. I mean really, honestly, fire. That's why I'm pretty sure that God actually sent her to me. To screw with my life. Because he loves that.
And now I wonder: what will our Babies look like? Alternately Thrill-Seeking and Accursed By God? Addicted to Cupcakes and Borderline Psychopathic?
Sigh...I don't know...Hey, who's seen the new Fantastic Four movie?

The Worm That Doth Devour Itself

You know, after a long, hot day in Hell, there is nothing I like better than a warm bath and listening to some Ronnie James Dio:
"Again and again! Again and again! AND AGAIIIIIN!"
Man, that guy's good. And short: he's like, three feet tall or something. I think the only reason his voice is so awesome, and not squeaky and cute like other Little People is Studio
Trickery.

But the other thing I love is when Christians argue with each other. I mean, I'm a pretty live-and-let-wallow-in-self-induced-misery kind of guy, but I sometimes have to stop and say, "Wait a minute: they let you people drive cars?"
Think about it: other people with delusions that big don't get to. But hey; they're their own worst enemies, and there is some great love of self-punishment going on there, so I let 'em. It's a hoot. Get them going on the gays, and they'll be there all night.

But as usual, people miss the point. I'm not saying that they're crazy for believing in a god that isn't there (I met him once, at a lunch buffet, before, you know); I'm saying that they're endangering their eternal souls believing in a god who OPENLY AND HONESTLY HATES THEM.
Right? I mean, with all the things that truly suck about this jail cell they call a planet (Saint Cupcake excepted!), who's going to say, 'Oh yeah, that I Am That I Am (his real name) sure is a sweet old guy! He loveth me so much that he makes AIDS! He makes Heroin ("God's Own Medicine") and eternal warfare followed by further malaise and suffering!'
But best of all, he makes the dupes who follow him around, singing his praises, hate each other over silly things like the gays, and the environments.

It's great: sit back and watch, and remember what Ronnie said:
"So if a stranger calls you, don't look in his eyes, cuz' it's VOO-DOOOOOO!"

Word, RJD.

The Puppet of Eternal Shame and Torture

You really do learn a lot about your neighbors when a house burns down. They were really sad and sort of angry, and the daughter of the family was sort of just standing there with tears streaming down her face, wearing this filthy little pink coat.
Then I saw it: it was Him. She was standing there with this puppet doll in her hands, forgotten, for the moment, but still very much present. I trembled with fear and started trying to do my breathing excercises, but no way, Chante! It was Him, and I was scared.
Cza'ckul, is what we all called him back in the old days, but these days I think he's marketed as "Bucketty the Klown", or something. He's a puppet with an agenda, and I'm pretty sure that he burned down that house just to get my attention.
As he leered at me, that snot-nosed little brat kept crying, and I found myself wishing that I wasn't a pacifist these days (I'm Buddhist). If I could at least warn them-but what would I say? "Oh hey; you know that one 'Twilight Zone' episode where there's an evil talking doll? Or all those movies about the same thing? Well, you got one, Mister, and the only thing we can do about it is...Burn down the next house you get, but this time make sure He's in it."

Well, that wouldn't even work. You'd pretty much need a child sacrifice, too. I'm not sure how I'd approach that. "Oh hey? And you know how in all those episodes and movies how it's not like the little girl who owns the doll isn't to blame, exactly, for the toy being evil? Well, when you burn down your next house, you could..."
No. The problem here lies with one person and one person only. Who was it exactly that created evil puppet, pink coat girl and Me? That's right. God.
Oh, WHY DOES HE HATE US SO MUCH? I mean, what kind of omnipotent being engineers both cancer and maleficient toys into a universe that is already poisoned with un-fixable design flaws (if you want my opinion)?

I can quote scripture, but I'm not gonna. But I just know there's a line in there somewhere about how mad he is that he gave his one begotten son...And that's why HE HATES US! It's right there, in...Book Two, or something.

So I was really scared, and the only thing I knew that could take care of that sort of pain was...You got it: Saint Cupcake! There's pretty much nothing that can take away my blues and fear like a designer pastry! The girl was really cute, too. They know how to hire 'em, here in this town.
I got a...Well, it was really great. It was a cupcake, and it was...Well, it was a cupcake. But it was really, really good!

Have a happy Memorializing the Dead in Battle Day! Make sure to eat 'hot-dogs' or something!

The Pay Phone of Human Misery

There's a homeless man down there at the drug addict pay phone. He caught my attention because he was saying, "None of you cocksuckers care anyway!". I thought, hey, I care, and looked out my window.
He was on one of those bikes that has a big cart attached to the back of it, and he was straddling it while trying to use the phone. He had a cup of Starbucks coffee on top of the phone (Venti!), and was trying to dial while being really mad.
He just kind of kept on stabbing at it, and finally yelled, "Motherfuckers broke my phone!". Then, he hit the phone so hard it knocked his Starbucks off of there and onto the pavement. "Now you motherfucking cocksuckers made me spill my coffee!" It rolled down the sidewalk, and he rode away, first crashing into the recycling bins, talking about how he was tired of all of it.

This made me really sad. It made me want to go tell him; hey man, it's not the phone's fault, and the only reason I plugged the slot for quarters with a broken plastic knife was because I don't think you should do drugs!
And for that matter guy, have you noticed how God hates you? I mean, he made me do that to the phone so you can't get drugs! Now you're really mad, and you're probably going to get arrested for punching a security guard or something. I mean, God really hates you!

So I went over to Saint Cupcake! It always makes me feel a lot better. They're cupcakes, right? But GOURMET cupcakes! It's like there's some kind of new-wave dessert revolution happening in this city, and I LOVE IT!

Peace.