Half French, Leo Vampires Do It In The Kitchen (and Other Cool T-Shirt Ideas)

A little rant today followed by a short letter that's sure to prove my insensitivity in the eyes of those who aren't yet praying for my hethen soul. Whatever. If you don't get it, you're in the wrong place. I've just returned home by train from Toronto following a night of drunken belligerance, a good portion of which was spent half-assing basic instincts on my friend's kitchen floor with a lovely half-french woman who bore a striking resemblance to Bettie Paige, shared my astrological sign and had an affinity for bitting. All of this was pretty sexy after twelve beers and a mickey of Jameson's Irish Whiskey, but painful when I awoke to bruises, scratches, bite marks and my worst hangover in recent memory. Aggressiveness is acceptable, as a matter of fact in many cases it's more than welcome, but my body's constellatory pattern of scars would suggest outright violence. Which brings me to the subject of today's letter; Violence in the Middle East. I don't take sides. That is to say that I take the side of rationality, which in this case disallows me from standing with either Israel or Hezbollah/Lebanon as both have cast rational thought aside in favor of 500lb. laser guided missles, some of which are innacurate enough to "accidentaly" level a well marked U.N. post containing four observers it would seem. The violence is violence as far as I'm concerned. I'm uninterested in who started it, less so in who's commiting more of it than the other. One thing that strikes me as completely odd, however, has always been our seeming inability to learn empathy from our past sufferings. For example, I won't be hardcore bitting anyone in a drunken stupor anytime in the forseeable future because I now know that it hurts like a bitch. Wouldn't it be nice if much of the world could learn from their past pains enough to not want to wish it onto others?;



Dear Prime Minister Olmert,

In light of your people's escalating discomfort and continuing conflict with the Muslims, we at the newly formed Department of Foreign Land Security have been working around the clock in an attempt to find a solution to what we see as a possible, short term economic inconvenience to America. The thing is, missles aren't cheap to produce and, let's face it, thus far we've been cutting you a pretty good deal. The serfs, or "general public" if you want to get all P.C. about it, are becoming all antsy in the pantsy about us supplying you with arms. Though we're not accustomed to paying attention to their feeble cries, there is, as you know, a mid-term election coming up this November. After evaluating our situation it seemed as though we were going to have to increase the price of arms sold to your nation, fortunatly one of our interns came up with an alternative which we've dubbed "The bleached camel project". Based on our Guantanamo Bay research facility and Black Prisons in Iraq, we've developed a way for you to subdue your enemies with fewer arms. After studying FOX News, our primary source of intelligence, Chucky (our intern) was able to determine that the source of the Muslim people's fury is not years of mistreatment, nor religious in nature, nor territorial. It is infact derrived from frustration caused by their inability to concentrate on peace. It seems as though all Middle-Eastern Muslims simply suffer from CDD, or Concentration Deficit Disorder. As such, we've taken the liberty of drawing up blueprints for a number of compounds that can be cheaply operated by your military within the Middle-East. Once rounded up and placed into these compounds, the Muslims will be treated to a variety of fun activities that will help them learn to concentrate. Think of it as a kind of summer camp for concentration. What you decide to call these compounds is up to you.


Dr. Kevin N. Strangelove
Department of Foreign Land Security







Yeah, that's right, I fucking went there. If you want happy laughs I'm sure Carrot Top has a blog you can visit somewhere.

Kill Bill: An Embryo Kissing Presidential Photo-Op

It's been an interesting week in the news. Still no word about ChoicePoint, but lots of World War III fear mongering from the shit shoveling business suit and hair transplant models that strut the terror catwalk at network news stations. "It's the beginning of World War III", "Could Hezbollah attack America? Your family may be at risk.", "Are there terrorist training camps on the moon?", "Does your significant other, under secret orders from Osama Bin Laden, cover their genitals in antrax before sex in an attempt to kill you? Tune in to Anderson Cooper 360 at 8pm when he interviews fundamentalist Islamic porn stars about the potential threat." So, needless to say, like any other sane human I'm hiding in a bunker underneath my house eating cheetos and waiting for Jesus to descend on a chariot made of oil and money and start the judgement. Suddenly, between assurances of armaggedon, I'm treated to the latest little piece of foolishness in the War on Rationality. It seems that Mr. Bush, in an attempt to further make his religious insanity a concrete part of American life, has used his presidential veto for the first time to kill a bill allowing federal spending on embryotic stem cell research. He was quoted as saying;

"It's the taking of innocent human life in the hope of finding medical benefits for others. It crosses a real moral boundary that our society needs to respect."

and following the taking of a couple cute photos kissing babies and hanging out with children he finished with;

"These boys and girls are not spare parts."

Embryos are human life? According to this hardcore Christian dude that I work with, "a living thing" is considered by some to be anything that might someday be able to live autonomously without the aide of a host (parasites like viruses and such don't count). I'm going to assume that this is what Bush believes as well and that this is what leads him to consider an embryo "human life". He just seems to prefer kissing babies I guess since I didn't see any photos of him laying a wet one on an embryo (it seems to me that it would have been more appropriate).

Anyhow, I began thinking about my semen (that's a lot harder to type when it's the truth) and came to the conclusion that by Bush and Craig's (the kid at work) definition, my scrotal swim team, since they could potentialy, one day, go on to live without a host, are all individualy to be considered human life forms. I'm a fucking mass murderer and it's time to confess my sins.




Dear President Bush,

I understand that you are a very busy man and that you probably recieve enormous amounts of fan mail. It would be impossible, I imagine, to answer every letter and there are many that you must surely cast aside for lack of time. Regardless of this fact I've decided to write you and, though it may prove to be an exercise in futility, I hope that you'll be able to help.

Being a good Christian is not an easy task, as you well know. Temptation is everywhere and it seems as though new threats to our moral way of life present themselves constantly. Whether they be in the form of muslims, arabs, middle-easterners, islamists, muslims, arabs, or tan skinned people from sand-land, they are all over, plotting our extermination with weapons of mass destruction every second of every minute of every hour of every day of the year. In this time of great conflict, with the battle of good versus evil raging, it becomes easy to accidentaly overlook some of God's lesser rules.

Following the church's doctrine closely I've always understood that condoms are not to be used as they are opposed by God. Now, my girlfriend Christine Barrett, who shall remain nameless, was also of this understanding when we first met at Sunday school. The problem was that we certainly didn't want to have children out of wedlock, so what were we to do? I immediately came up with a solution and moral compromise to our conundrum: "I can't get her face pregnant" I thought to myself, and so it went.

All was well until yesterday when you stated that embryos were innocent human lives. If it is true of embryos then it must also be true of semen. It donned on me soon after this revelation that this would mean their extermination to be an act of murder. Oh, Mr. President, I'm terrified that I may be going to hell and I'm almost positive that my girlfriend is. I mean, if extinguishing the life of seed is murder then her hair is a mass grave. Seriously, you have no idea what we've done. I'm freaking out. I love her so much, but she must've swallowed entire nations. Over lonely nights I, myself am sure to have flushed and drowned generations after suffocating them with kleenex. We've commited genocide President Bush. Genocide. I can hear their screams in my sleep. Well, not so much screams, but like the squishy sounding equivalent of what screams would be to sperm. It's horrible. Do you know what that feels like? To know that a wealth of innocent human lives have been terminated because of your actions? Ofcourse you don't. Look who I'm asking.

Please President Bush, I beg of you. As Earth's ambassador to Heaven could you forgive mine and Christine's sins? Could you ask God to pardon us. We make the promise in return of no more heinous 69's after Sunday masses, no more murderous pearl necklaces, not one criminal fithly Sanchez more (not sure if this applies, but better safe than sorry) for the rest of eternity. Please save our souls President Bush.

The Butcher Bad-Dad,
Kevin Burke

I've Met Your Makers and I Think They're Assholes...

Dear Fundamentalist Jews and Muslims (other Sunday Morning Sing-a-Long Clubs take note),

You people are bat-shit insane. Fucking, off-the wall, out of touch, over the hill, round the bend, rubber room, straight jacket escapees deserving of lobotomies. Give me the scalpel, I'll perform the surgery myself, because you aren't deserving of the mental ability which would allow you to throw your own feces at each other, let alone use fucking weapons. The niceties are over. We're taking your missles and the parts of your brains that allow you to function on what's conventionaly considered a normal, healthy level and in exchange you're getting easy to open pudding cups with plastic spoons and some rubber balls to bounce that we hope will keep you occupied and out of our faces for the rest of eternity. Enjoy the remainder of the show from the cheap seats and when your Gods show up we'll tell them that we turned your holy land into a titty bar because the alternative was dealing with you assholes for another thousand or so years (also, because we love tits). Do you even remember what you're fighting about? Not at this exact moment. I mean the fucking tootsie roll center of your asinine, decades long destruction pop. How many licks does it take before it starts to taste like heaven, assholes? Want the answer? It never fucking will! Here's another whopper of a revelation for you: Your "god" doesn't exist, neither does your creepy, red pitchfork guy who's waiting, appearently to bail hay with you in hell if you have sex before marriage. Earth is not the center of the universe and you are not the center of earth. Your holy land is fucking useless. Can you even grow crops on that shit? Is it going to help your economy? What are you protecting? Is there a Marilyn Monroe, John F. Kennedy sex tape buried under that earth? Better yet, is it Optimus Prime? Help me out here. Because it's got to be worth it. Surely you can't expect us to believe that this is all really about land depicted in holy texts translated a million times over and written almost two thousand years ago by people who, believe it or not, were even fucking stupider than you are today. Is it like one of those vehicles from the Power Rangers that changes from a robot into a dinosaur? The one ring to rule them all? It's not, is it? You really believe that it's "holy" don't you? God Damn It! What's worse is that we let you go on with this shit because we've learned that belittling someone's religion is wrong. So we appease you with our silence. Then on the rare occasions when you aren't fighting over "magic" we act real proud and pat you on the backs like you've done something extraordinary. Guess what, idiots, you aren't supposed to fucking blow each other up over pixie dust, statues that posses the souls of great prophets, mythical crystals, goblets, tablets or any other Lord of the Rings, Dungeons and Dragons role playing type shit that your forebears imaginations could conjure up. So I won't be rewarding your mediocrity with sudden numbness of opinion. I don't blow my load on the guy at Tim Hortons when he gives me the right coffee, why would I congratulate you for not being illogical, half-wits with personality tumors? You created your world as I've created mine, not god, not allah, not the invisble man, not superman, not Chuck Norris. Take some responsibility for the state of the world and stop trying to pass the buck to nowhere man. You created it and it's construction is ongoing (unless you continue and decide to make it finite). So fuck you, because I've met your makers and I think they're assholes.

The Aristocrats

Quite possibly the funniest thing you'll ever see

The Good Guise Vs. The Bad Guise

Hey Israel, dude,

I don't know if this is a big deal to you or not, but seriously I was sitting at lunch with Lebanon and Palestine and they were totally talking shit, dude. Lebanon was all like; "God's a little bitch." and Palestine put it's finger up it's nose and was like; "Duh, look at me, I'm Moses." I don't know if you want to do anything about this after class, but if I were you I would. You wouldn't want to look like a pussy. Don't worry, I've got your back.

Kevin




Hey Lebanon,

What's up bro? Listen, I don't know if I should be telling you this, but I thought you should know. I was having lunch with Israel and America and they were talking some serious shit, dude. Israel was all like; "Allah's a fag." and shit. Then America dropped his pants and started making it look like his ass was talking and he was like; "Blah, blah, look at me, I'm the prophet Muhammed." Everybody was laughing dude. I wouldn't take that shit if I were you. If you want to run up on em' after class I've got your back, bro.

Kevin

ChoicePoint: The Private Cost of Security is Security of Privacy

Allow me to be a mite hyperbolic in saying that you are being watched. Especialy if you happen to be a reader (and registered voter) who resides in the United States. Most recently, if you're a Mexican resident who voted in the recent federal election. You're minute celebrity status, however, is unfortunately limited to ChoicePoint International's database and anyone with enough scratch and desire to purchase your tax, voting, insurance claims, consumer, employment, police or credit records. ChoicePoint, out of Alpharetta, Georgia operates as a data-collection service, a kind of Wal-Mart of private investigator firms. They collect data on anyone and everyone while putting forth the assumption that it will be used to help large businesses protect themselves from fraudulent, potential employees who might be trying to infiltrate their ranks. But when ChoicePoint isn't protecting us from the big, bad 007 corporate spy network that seeks to steal the secret formula to Vanilla Coke they're busy selling your personal information to the highest bidder. Usualy to the government during election time, but sometimes to identity thieves, as evidenced by their most recent major fuck-up. You see, legaly your government can't collect information on you without warrant, but there is nothing stopping them from setting up multi-million dollar contracts with ChoicePoint and buying your voting records so that they know who to purge. Recently, for instance, several ChoicePoint data collection experts were arrested in Mexico collecting voting records for the FBI. Why would the FBI want Mexican voting records? Pay close attention to the accusations put forth by "should be" Mexican President Obrador in the coming weeks and the answer should materialise clear as day. Hundreds of thousands of votes, mainly in the South of Mexico, primarily cast by Liberal leaning, impoverished voters mysteriously dissapeared into "flawed" vote casting machines, never to be recovered. Sound reminiscent of an incident in Florida in 2000? That's because it is. Furthermore, the U.S. government, under the guise of "terrorism protection" is currently contracting ChoicePoint to collect data not from countries such as Saudi Arabia and Pakistan (known for creating terrorists), but from Argentina, Venezuela and other South American countries. Logic would suggest that this has a lot more to do with the recent controversy surrounding the FTAA agreement and Hugo Chavez' attempt at uniting Latin nations against the threat of unfair trade regulations that favor the U.S. than it does with preventing terrorism.

For more information on ChoicePoint you can visit http://www.epic.org/privacy/choicepoint/ or ChoicePoint's official website at http://www.choicepoint.com

For more on the theft of the Mexican election you can visit BBC journalist, Greg Palast's site at http://www.gregpalast.com

Deathanol Gets Hummers From the Women of Baghdad (War's never been so sexy)

How many dead Iraqis does it take to fill a Baghdad morgue? I don't know. Lots I would imagine. And they're all full. According to a report out of Baghdad by the associated press, the capital city's morgues are having a very difficult time keeping up with the bodies being dumped on their doorsteps. As a result hundreds of dead men, women and children are being forced to spend their nights in economy class, room temperature, single bedroom cadaver keepers because all of the luxury freezer suites are taken. I suppose the Baghdad morgues have a first come, first served policy. Either that or the invading forces are simply killing too many people at too quick a pace. Meanwhile, the Rencor group, creator of the Hummer and chief supplier to the U.S. military machine (not to mention one of the planet's foremost war profiteers)is planning to renew their contract. So I've devised a way for Baghdad and Rencor to work together and kill 12,000 Iraqis or two birds (the avian equivalent by war hawk mentality) with one stone. Hummers for everyone.



Dear Rencor Inc.,

On the eve of your contract renewal with the U.S. military we felt it necessary to contact you regarding an exciting, new, all-natural fuel source just recently developed here at Muerte Labs in Mexico City. Last week we were succesfully able to create and patent the very first motor vehicle engine that runs solely on dead bodies. Tested on our sport utility model, the El Cadavra, we discovered that our engine can power a vehicle the size and weight of your military class Humvee for up to twenty-four hours on a single, adult human body. The fuel source, codenamed Deathanol, is a cheap, easy alternative to conventional gasoline and diesel fuel. What's more is that vehicles running on Deathanol emit little more than a foul odour (enviromentalists will love it). With Deathanol fuel your military vehicles will be able to run efficiently at an astounding 50 miles to the pound. Meaning that an average adult leg from hip to toe, or a six year old child, could power a trek across Baghdad four times over. It's cheap, clean, easy to use and best of all, it's infinite. Unlike oil-based fuel sources, finite in nature, Deathanol will never run out, especially during war time. No more having to stop at those pesky gas pumps to fill up when you're cruising in style with a Deathanol powered Humvee. Simply pull over, execute a family and then...roadtrip, baby (no pun intended)! We're very excited to offer these engines to you at Rencor for use in your military vehicles for a reasonable price and we'll be looking forward to hearing from you.

Kevin N. Burke
Senior Sales Manager,
Muerte Labratories Incorporated

Bombs Over Pyongyang (Khaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!!!!!!!)

No letter tonight, just a little info that I felt was important to post in the wake of N. Korea's missile tests today. I wasn't at all surprised by the immediate outrage the world over at Kim Jong Il's defiant act. Outrage led, of course, by our always straight-forward, truthful friends to the north, the U.S. of A. North Korea, I'm sure, is frightened by the U.S. (as I believe many countries are), but I doubt that anyone, save the North Koreans, feel any safer with them having WMDs, Nukes, the Last Mushrooms, Body Dusters, Texas Boom-Booms, or whatever we're calling them now. Do they have the right? Fuckin' A they do, but as much as I'd love to be part of the generation that gets to see the planet's last days (seriously, you have to admit it would be pretty sweet) I don't really want to rush it. So Pyongyang's got the bomb, they're testing the range of their delivery systems (way faster than UPS by the way. The only way to send a package is by Scud-mail.) and pissing everyone off in the process. Here's the catch; Where'd they get the plans? The materials? Who funded it? Why weren't they stopped?

The answer starts with Dr. A.Q. Khan of Pakistan. Khan is the cat who figured the bomb out for the Pakistanis with a fresh pile of cash for research and construction filling his pockets every week. After cooking up some fine, working human extinguishers for his home country to hold India at bay with, Khan held a yard sale, selling blueprints, materials, the works to North Korea and Libya. Cheap. This was supposedly found out in 2004 when Libya's Muammar Gaddafi let it slip and the U.S. government acted astonished at the discovery. In actuality it was reported in 2001 by the U.K.'s Guardian Press, but was quickly dismissed by U.S. and British officials as being a ludicrous accusation. Why? Two reasons. The first of which was the threat of bad press, because FBI agents in November, 2001 were asked to back off of their investigation into Khan's dealings. If people were to have found out that the bomb had gotten to Kim Jong Il because intelligence lines were cut by the Whitehouse, heads would have rolled. The second reason was the money trail from Khan's research and development and where it led to (also why the investigations were halted). Can you guess? If you guessed the Bush administration you weren't far off. If you guessed the Saudi Royal Family, disco, baby! You win an all expenses paid trip to oblivion for you and 80 billion of your fellow humans. The investigation was called off because you don't fuck with the strongest nation in OPEC until you've seized control of Iraq (the second strongest), sold off all of it's oil reserves thanks to foreign instated privitization laws, and brought OPEC to it's knees. Oil control. Simple as that. That's how North Korea was successfully able to obtain fully functional nuclear weapons under everyone's nose.

So Earth, honey, it's been a fun ride but it looks like we're going down. Get some sleep and warm up your containment suit, dear, cause tomorrow's going to be a radiated, blustery day.