Why Does God Never Answer The Really IMPORTANT Prayers?

Whitney joined Amy Warehouse this weekend in that great Shooting-Gallery-In-The-Sky .... I had money on it being Britney Spears next, so fuckyou very much Britney for outliving Whitney and making me miss-out on the 300-1 odds I had on you being the first truly spectacular trainwreck on 2012 .... Of course, If Britney, Lindsay Lohan, Gwen Stefani, Christina Aguilera and Madonna all die this year in spectacular fashion, it will make me a CRAPLOAD of money from this guy in Vegas, and it will also prove that there is, indeed, a God. (Cos I have spent YEARS praying that God would kill all these bitches Bible-style, and NOTHIN'!!!)
For any fervent Christians, Moslems, Jews, or any other monotheistic, exclusionary, bigoted weirdo cult I may have left out, here's your chance to see whether or not you're wasting your time and money: If none o' those irritating bitches is still alive at the start of 2013, then God exists .... if they're still alive it means that either God DOESN'T exist, or She's off taking a vacation and leaving Satan in charge of things.
Note to religious whackjobs: Do NOT go out killing these people just to prove to me that your God exists. If God wants 'em dead, She will do it with lightning, earthquakes, tornadoes, locusts, or leprosy ... God doesn't need some numbnuts fuckwit to go on any killing-sprees on Her behalf. For further proof, go to Wikipedia an' read about the fuckin' crusades and how well THEY worked out for God's True Believers!
Every single one of these religious fucksticks who claim to be speaking for God tells us about evil, but they always leave out "Monumentally Fuckin' Stupid" when they tell us about what's wrong with Society In General and America In Particular, and they know that they're right cos God Told Them So.
Well God told ME that all the problems in the world were caused by dumbass celebreties who should be sedated for their own good. The problem is, the ones who REALLY need sedating are capable of ingesting amounts of pharmaceuticals that would kill a Rolling Stone without suffering so much as a fuckin' hangover!
And straight-up whackin' them is out, because then they'd end-up with that cult status that seems to be bestowed on celebreties who crash in spectacular fashion just as their 14th Minute is ending (Amy Warehouse, River Phoenix, Curt Cobain, etc.), so it only leaves Divine Retribution.
And as we ALL know from watching Peter Pan, wishes only come true if everyone wishes for it at the same time.
And what the fuck is a prayer if it's not a wish?
So if we all pray hard enough for this shit to happen, we'll no longer have to suffer having Superbowls, Grammy celebrations, or Lollapalooza besmirched by the likes of Britney fuckin' Spears or that sagging bag of bones Madonna.
And after all these years, I STILL have no fuckin' idea what a Hollaback Girl is, but I swear as soon as I find out, Gwen Stefani is on The List, so even if I DON'T win the Lotto, I still have the same chances of God gettin' that bitch.
Providing enough people pray for it to happen.

The Reason For The Interminable Republican Mass-Debating

Sitting in my living room, watching the hummingbirds swarming around the feeder hung strategically outside the window, it occurred to me that 72 degrees and sunny isn't exactly the weather one usually expects in the first week in February.
It's actually colder than it was on Christmas Eve when I managed to get quite a nice tan in the 6 hours I was out in the sun working.
It's my belief that the reason most people have failed to notice that it's still autumn and not winter is because they've been bored into a stupor by the last three months of having the Republican Party debates on their radios, televisions, news-feeds, and all over their newspapers. After having that hammered over their heads since what seems to be the early 14th Century it's been going on so long, America has become numbed to any other kind of news.
By the time they have finished processing the debates, the reviews of the debates, the rebuttals to the reviews of the debates, the press-conferences angrily called to rebut the rebuttals to the reviews of the debates, and finally the interviews with the candidates to comment on the press-conferences angrily called to rebut the rebuttals of the reviews of the debates that THEY took part in, the average viewer/listener is as confused and cross-eyed as you who are reading this.
And if you read it again, you have just saved yourself watching a thirty minute news update on how it's been here since May. The last one on January 26th was the twenty fifth debate between people who have declared that they want to run for President, many of whom seem to have done so only after having lengthy and detailed conversations with God who informed them that they were His Chosen Candidate.
I have to tell you that, based on the declarations of so many GOP contenders, that God appears to be hedging His bets almost as much as Mitt Romney.
But enough of that for now, it only detracts from the main issue (just as a good Republican debate should).
The point is that, even though I live about a mile up a mountain that has a long history of being covered in snow at this time of year, right now my kids are wearing shorts to school, hummingbirds are swarming in my garden, I have to put SPF 20 on my daughter if she wants to play in the yard, and worst of all there are fat-chicks walking around wearing miniskirts and halter-tops or short-shorts and bikini tops. Don't get me wrong here, I am NOT picking on fat-chicks. I'm a fat-guy, so I have no room to talk about that kinda stuff. Except that, as a fat-guy, I realise that the world neither wants or needs to see the acreage of flesh I keep hidden under my clothes. That's exactly why  I keep it hidden under my clothes!
I do have a problem, though, with being confronted with a size-28 woman squeezed into size-12 shorts and a spandex top that not only shows her navel but her C-Section scars and what appeared to be a 3-D topographical map of the Rockies, moulded out of rancid cottage-cheese. I briefly considered poking.
As I stood there, trying not to gag from the combination of B.O and the half-gallon of Poison she had used in lieu of soap and water or deodorant, I thought to myself "Christ! what a sight it must have been when there were millions of these fuckers being hunted across the Plains by the Indians".
But I'm digressin' again.
The last time we had a Winter with no winter was 2001, and the country was pretty preoccupied with the fact that some religious whack-jobs (are there REALLY any other kind?) had decided to play Kamikaze Demolition Derby with 300 ton airliners, and we had to invade Iraq and Afghanistan to teach some Saudi Arabian and Iranian terrorists not to call the President's daddy names ...okay you tell ME what the hell happened!! ....... I'm waiting ....... See? YOU don't know either!! nyah nyah nyah nyahh nyyyyyyaaaaahhhhhh! (A closing argument used, I believe, by Dubya when telling Al Gore that he wasn't gonna be living in the White House)

The entire country missed the fact that we went from Summer, to Fall, to Spring, with twenny minutes of cloudy weather in between!

Which brings me back to the reason for the 25 (so far!) Republican Party Presidential Candidate (Mass) Debates: The reason we're having so many, and that they're getting so much news coverage (even when they're not actually taking place!) is because once you've listened to 25 minutes of this crap, you're almost RELIEVED to hear that the Dow dropped three hundred points AGAIN today. Throw in a cutesy-pie story about a crippled girl who lost her cat and it turned up in a restaurant garbage can in Savannah after mistakenly getting on the back of a semi-truck in Sacramento and there's only about 10 seconds left for the weather guy to say "Weather's gonna be nice again tomorrow. We're expecting winter any day now, but until we get it it's going to stay 77 and sunny ... Tom will be here with sport after this important word from our sponsors".
You see? 30 minutes of news condensed into one paragraph, and by reading this instead of watching it, I even saved you from a commercial for sunscreen

People Who Made THE LIST Early

After I got the idea for how I would spend much of my lottery winnings, I thought "Why stop there? There are many MANY people just as annoying as Larry and Irwin"
I thought about celebrities who like to give us their views on politics and the environment and equal rights for mentally-deficient penguins, and the list quickly became so huge that I realised it needed to be pared down to just the most truly annoying, hateful, evil, or just do or say something so egregious that it makes you want to take a newspaper, roll it up into a tight tube, and smack them REALLY hard on their nose and yell "NO!!"

 I used to be able to use Michael Jackson as the prime example of that last category, but since his demise I've been casting-around for someone new to ordain with the title of Imperial Imbecile.
There were many aspirants to the throne: Sarah Palin looked pretty much a shoo-in for the title after putting her foot into her mouth so many times, she had to have all her fangs removed and replaced with human-looking teeth.
Of course, seeing one woman whose medication no longer works aspiring to high office was bound to cause a series of wingnuts whose husbands are just a touch too shady to run for public office themselves having their vacuous wives run instead. They were quickly proven to be all sizzle and no substance (Thankyou God!) and pretty much ended their fifteen minutes before I could find truly valid reasons for them to make The List.
 Many people were too obvious, such as the owner of the gas station who, during Hurricane Katrina, was charging 7 bucks a gallon for gas. The normal price was something less than half that before the evacuation started. Or David Blaine who was so desparate for attention that he sat in a transparent plastic box for just over six weeks while people walked past and pointed at him, causing China to send probes to the Moon to look for places they could build a colony in the hopes that they were creating a place that was inaccessible to Blaine, therefore saving them from having to endure any of his unremittingly mindless acts of self-indulgence.
Eventually, the person I settled on to make The List after Larry and Irwin was someone so annoying, so able to raise my blood-pressure to near-apocalyptic levels, that I had actively contemplated attending the Grammies packing an M-16 and a suicide note.
Every time you turned on the TV, it showed pictures of this broad drunk, under arrest, pregnant, bald, stoned, or just walking across the (expletive deleted) road!
Every second story on the news was about she was married, divorced, in custody, forgetting her kid in the bathroom of a night-club, or being busted for being completely f****d-up and stupid in public.
Man, I prayed daily for God to strike Britney Spears with lightning-bolts or locusts or her own personal asteroid, but once again, God was off causing earthquakes and hurricanes as retribution for Mankind's sin of allowing Reality TV to continue. So after I'd got the message that there wasn't gonna be no Message, I joyously added Britney to The List.
I'd be doing it not just for me, but for teenage girls, the parents of teenage girls, the brothers of teenage girls, and the Greater Good of Humanity.
I remember hearing a joke many years ago.
Wanna hear it?
"Knock Knock"
"Who's There?"
"Britney Spears"
"Britney Spears who?"
"That's Showbusiness!"

Unfortunately, this train-wreck-waiting-to-happen keeps failing to crash completely, and doesn't even have the honour to take the Amy Winehouse Route To Eternal Obscurity, another event I have fervently prayed would come about.

I'm now going to sigh wistfully, stare off into the distance, and dream of the day I can afford two dozen little Ninja-assasin guys

THE LIST and how to get on it

So, should I manage to overcome odds of 175,711,536 and win a Mega Millions lottery jackpot all to myself, just like Stewie Griffin, I have a little list.
My friends can easily attest, however, to my list originating before Bush Jr. became President, and more specific in nature.
I made a pact with God.
I said to Her "If you let me win this MegaMillions, I'll use 90% of it to do good things.
First, I'm gonna take care of the people who daily spread a wave of low-grade evil throughout Mankind by their words or deeds."
I settled down, got myself into a thoroughly illegal state of mind, took up pen and paper, and started writing The List.
My first action was to decide who the most truly obnoxious, annoying, evil, and mind-numbingly stupid people who manage to infect the airwaves with their mindless drivel, messages of hate, arrogance, ignorance, self-aggrandizement, intolerance, or unbelievable stupidity.

I also decided that there were certain people that were just too easy, and I had to have specific reasons for putting them on The List, not just because they're French or because they constantly spell the word "definitely" d-e-f-i-n-a-t-e-l-y, or lived in Seattle. Nope, the reason had to be personal. It had to be acceptable to multitudes of people (in case I ever ended up in front of a jury of my peers), and it had to be able to be classed as being for "The Greater Good Of Mankind".

Originally, if you want the truth, it wasn't even a List. It started as I was driving home along the 405 Freeway one night, listening to the radio, and for the fifth time in less than the time it had taken me to smoke a cigarette, there was a commercial from Larry Miller, the owner of Sit 'n' Sleep mattress store.
Or, as I call him, "Larry The Mattress Bastard" (or "That Bastard" for short).

If you haven't heard or seen this guy's commercials, he's a loud obnoxious douchebag who reels-off the names of the mattresses he's shilling (most of which start with the letter "S"), and then ends it with " .... will beat ANYONE'S advertised price or your mattress is FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!"
As if that weren't enough to make you want to strap a vest-full of C-4 to your chest, the very next commercial was ANOTHER Sit'n'Sleep ad, only THIS time, his accountant Irwin was there whining about how he had to stop slashing prices because "YOU'RE KILLING ME, LARREEEEEEEEE".

Okay, mebbe the first time you hear it, it's cute.
After two or three hundred times, it made me wanna find a tower, a school, and a bolt-action rifle.
So I got down on my knees and prayed.
I prayed for my soul.
I prayed for my sanity.
I prayed for the return of Cagney & Lacey.
I prayed for the sake of unborn millions "Please God .... let me win the lottery tonight so I can hire a couple of assassins to go and take this mother****er out! .... I'll go to church every Sunday, God, and I'll quit smoking and go down to the soup-kitchen and read poetry to homeless guys .... I'll donate what I don't use gettin' rid of Larry and Irwin to feeding poor kids, or cancer research or savin' the whales ... just let me make this bastard suffer for this before he dies"
Well, God wasn't listening to me that day ... I think She was busy causing an earthquake in Haiti because there were gay penguins in a zoo in San Francisco or something that day ... so Larry and Irwin are still here.
At least, until I win the Lotto......

Tell me AGAIN how you got your drivers' licence?!?!? (More people who are truly lacking a chromosome or three)

So in the almost-15 years I've lived in the States, I've compiled a list called "Things Californians Do That Make Me Want To Carry A Gun".
See, I'm legally allowed to own a gun here ... got no criminal record, not an illegal immigrant, never declared myself an Independant, etc .... The reason I don't own one is because I know my temper.

The Number One thing that makes me want to carry heavy armament when I leave the house is the way people drive on the freeways. I swear by all that's holy, if you want to see large groups of people who were born missing a chromosome or two, drive I-5 ANYWHERE in California.
People in the surrounding States are so knowledgable of how feeble-minded your average Californian driver is that they put signs up on the roads that come into their States from California.
Want proof? Drive into Oregon on the 5. Every half mile or so there's signs saying stuff like "Click-it or Ticket: Always wear your seatbelt", or "Drive On The Right: Pass On The Left". These signs go on for a LONG way north on the freeway, although there were none on the southbound carriageway, nor were there any on the California side of the border.
Know what this means?
It means people in Oregon KNOW that a Californian with an automobile is about as safe as a 3-year-old with a loaded Mac-10 that's had the safety removed.
What the sign REALLY says is "We know you're from California. Do what you need to do, get back to California, and try not to drive TOO MUCH like the braindead asshole we know you are!"
Folks, if you're driving down the freeway and there are people passing you in all three lanes to your right, YOU'RE IN THE WRONG GODDAMN LANE!
Not only are you committing a moving violation, but you're creating a safety hazard!
Forget the fact that, while you're ambling along in the outside lane at 59mph that you're causing others to slow and swerve to avoid your brain-dead antics.
Forget the fact that you're a mindless bastard with the intelligence-quotient of peanut butter and don't know SHIT about the basic rules of driving.
It's just plain RUDE, pure an' simple!

These monkey-spawn had better PRAY that I never win the SuperLotto, because if I do then I'm getting me a tank and a CRAPLOAD of insurance .... then I'm going to go driving.
Anyone dumb enough to be in my way when I'm driving the freeways will get their ass turned into a greasy spot. Their crappy car too!
There's too many of these fuckin' idiot Baby-Boomers on the road, and even MORE of their idiot Gen-X offspring and it's time we had a plague or a war or a catastrophe to thin their fuckin' numbers down a little bit.
There's too many of 'em and they're sucking-up all the oxygen!
So next time you see a douchebag driving under the speed-limit in the outside lane, pass 'em on the right, roll down your window and THROW SOMETHING HEAVY AT THEIR CAR! *
They'll not get the message, but they may well end up dead in a ditch and this will make the freeways a MUCH safer (and faster) place :-)






* Never ever ever ever EVER do this!
Unless you've first sent me $100,000
(For my legal defence)

People Missing A Chromosome

I've finally found a reason to like Louisiana.
Some legislator is trying to get a law passed that makes it illegal to wear pyjamas in public.
This has been one of my pet peeves for years, and has caused my friends to chuckle at my outbursts and continuing rage at people who are too fucking lazy to get dressed properly before they leave the house.
These are the same people who buy peanut butter and jelly in the same jar.
Folks, if you're too stupid (or lazy) to get two jars out of the cupboard and open 'em, then maybe you shouldn't be allowed around sharp objects.
My most recent blood-pressure-raising experience was on Christmas Eve when my youngest son and I were vending the Swap-Meet at Saugus Speedway in Santa Clarita.
There was a family at the next booth, a guy, his wife, and two kids, and the husband was loudly telling the vendor at the booth that he was from Bakersfield, a town about 80 miles north.
Let me set the scene a little better here for you: The guy had on a wifebeater and slacks, the kids were hyper-active, out of control, and appeared to be overloaded with sugar and MSG, and the wife .... the wife had on moon-boots, a Raiders hoody, and flourescent pink PJs with bright yellow smiley-faces.
I might add that, although she was only about 5'4, she was about 280lbs and these PJs were truly fighting for their life every time she plodded along and they were stretched almost translucent across her acre-sized ass.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not bitching that she was overweight. I'm bitching because the heifer had actually woken up that morning and said to herself "Well, I just got up and I'm going out on a 160-odd mile roadtrip to do some Christmas Eve shopping with my family, what SHALL I wear? .... fuggit, I'll just go as I am!"
It leads me to believe that, before the Pilgrim Fathers got lost on their way to France, that the white men who were already in the New World were molesting the buffalo and that some of their offspring survived and moved to places like Bakersfield.
It's sad that we have to enact laws on manners and decency, and sadder still that this heifer, apart from probably being color-blind and chromosome-deficient is also lacking friends or a reflection.
If she had a reflection, she'd be able to look in a mirror and say "Nope ... better try grown-up clothes today".
If she had friends, she'd have someone to say "Are you REALLY going out wearing THAT?!?"