You know, every once in a while something comes along that's really irritating. It's so mind-bogglingly vexing, so obviously inane, that it actually causes me physical and mental harm. Some people are so stupid, I'm not sure if we're members of the same species.

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Posted by: shank at 12:26 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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So...
The Old Testament is the story of a people who escaped persecution by an absolutist society who branded them as inhuman slaves, because of their religious beliefs.

And the New Testament is the story of an evangelist who's people were branded as fringe moonbats by the pious, because of their religious beliefs.

And yet we (the agnostics, the doubters, the skeptics, the too-cool-for-old-world-philosphy) claim that the Bible is just a collection of stories, parables, for disemenation among the masses - religiously contexted propaganda.

OHO! Yet we fail to see it as a history of human predilection - we believe, therefore we kill. Systems rise, and systems fall - regardless of which system is right, the most powerful wins. But where do WE lie, the United States, with all our gloriously mixed culture and 'Democratic' cries for the acceptance of 'The Other'? God, liberals and their emotions - why don't they ever wake up to the real issues? To the difference between what it means to 'believe' in something, and what it means to make a society work? I dunno, leave that to the pundits I guess.

My thoughts, penny-a-piece as they may be? Welcome to the country. Join and be a part of the amalgamate; because that's what the US is: A motley fucking crew. I just don't get why an outisder would want to be a part of it SO MUCH that they would march on major cities, when the 'rest' of the world is calling us imperialists. Odd, don't you think?

Posted by: shank at 07:46 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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Finished! Finished. The draft for my thesis is complete; thanks in large part to the two gallons of orange juice that were left in the refridgerator from the wedding day (we had breakfast at the church) and those Zep live bootlegs Paul sent me a while back. It was hard to get the ball rolling on this sucker, I totally wasn't into it; but I'm done now. I'm going to go sit on the porch, listen to In My Time of Dying one more time through, and wait for that pot roast to finish up. And for Duke to bring me some beer from the store.

With all due respect buddy, hurry it up.

Posted by: shank at 05:41 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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I should be finishing my thesis right now, but I'd much rather drink a beer on the porch and listen to my Sublime collection. Fucking school's a waste of my time right now anyways. I could pack a shotgun with one of my turds, shoot it at a couple sheets of paper, turn it in, and still graduate. All they want is happy alumni anyways; you know, to pay dues and donate buildings and shit. Liberal academia is obviously smoking way too much homegrown if they think I'm going to be giving them any money in this life. They got my tuition, they got two years of my life; the rest is mine biotches.

I'm convinced my wife's cat is evil. And I'm not talking naturally, blamelessly, I-was-born-this-way evil. I'm talking about that 'I enjoy being a wicked cunt and I'll never go away no matter how many times you throw me over the back fence' kind of evil. Ask anyone, the goddamn beast is straight from hell. I keep hoping she'll wander out to the four lane and get insta-puréed by some fully loaded dump truck doing fifty-five.

She hates being petted. She'll actually crawl up in your shit while you're laying on the couch, shove her head in your hands to be scratched, then fifteen minutes later she'll hiss at you and scamper off. What a fucking bitch eh? And when she hisses all up in your face and shit, it smells absolutley horrible. I don't know how many of you people have been forced (by marriage or other such trickery) into living with a cat, but the food they fucking eat is nasty. It smells like a homeless crackwhore's hatchetwound, and when they hiss in your face it's like the nasty street bitch is sitting on your face. The cat did that hissing in my face thing once. ONCE.

The cat doesn't really like me. Which is fine by me, because I'm pulling for her to get fucked to death by one of the stray neighborhood tom's. You know, I don't have the heart to kill her myself, and I asked my wife how pissed she'd be if I just threw her cat in the car and drove it up the coast a few hours and tossed it out. She wasn't too enthused, so I'm relegated to wishing death upon the evil little fucker.

Die cat, die.

Posted by: shank at 04:07 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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I suppose I'd rather write this than speak it, because I'm not sure if I have it in me to do so. I guess I'm not exactly the great communicator. Not like that's a secret to anyone though. HA!

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Posted by: shank at 07:45 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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