New Jersey Cosmetology and Hairstyling Board Still Endorsing Bush

Twat is that you say? Endorsing Bush? It’s true! A friend of mine just snatched this off of the AP wire: NJ considers ban on bare-it-all ‘Brazilian’ wax. I for one applaud this decision, as those Brazilian jobs looked little too much like Hitler for my taste. Or, should I say tasted a little too much like Hitler for the look. Well, you know what I mean….

 

Right Wing Wackos

I love the World Net Daily. It is where I get my daily dose of dumbass. In today’s edition, reporter Bob Unruh informs us that Merriam-Webster has changed the definition of marriage to include those of the same sex. This is hard hitting news, indeed. The article quotes Eric B., a WND subscriber and blatant heterosexual, who is was so angry over this issue that he made a video about this definition change. Eric has done his research, and he has learned that the 1913 edition of the Merriam-Webster did not include this broader definition that includes same sex marriage.

I was shocked to see that Merriam-Webster changed their definition of the word ‘marriage’….” – Eric B.

The article also quotes a Youtube viewer who I will call Deepthroat – not because of his contribution this Woodward and Bernstein-like piece, but because my guess is that someone this insecure is most likely suffering from Ted Haggard Syndrome – reminds us that this is part of the hidden gay agenda for “homosexual activists to take control of the definition of the word and make it align with their goals”. I bet this guy cringes when he starts to think about a new definition of ‘gerbil’ might become.

If these folks are successful in changing back all definitions to what they were in 1913, because that is apparently when all was right with the world, they might want to have a go at changing other words back to their 1913 definitions, as well. A ‘voter’ can be defined as a “land owning male who has paid his poll tax”, for example. A professional baseball player can be defined as a ‘white guy’. Hell, let’s go further back and define the earth as “the flat planet that is the centre of the universe”, and a witch as a “a defendant who floats”.

 

Jesus’ Image Appears on Crotch of a Pair of Jeans

Being the skeptic that I am, I tend not to believe rumors such as fake moon landings or 9/11 government conspiracies, until I check on the all-knowing internet. It is here where I learned that Barack Obama is really a Muslim, and that Elvis is alive, well and pumping gas at Shell station in Conway, Arkansas. So naturally I am a bit skeptical to learn of Jesus on a fish stick or a grilled cheese sandwich, until I log on and view it for myself. In this case, I know the owner of the jeans. It is on his crotch that Jesus appeared. Here it is:

Button Fly Jesus

It really is impressive, complete with eyes, nose, beard and a crown of thorns! I asked him what he was going to do with these jeans, and he said he might sell them on Ebay. I told him I thought that that is exactly what Jesus would want him to do.

When my friend told me that Jesus appeared in the crotch of a pair of jeans, I was both intrigued and excited. It isn’t often that one gets to see one of these miracles first hand, although in my case this was not the first time. When I was college, the blessed Mother Mary was making a habit of appearing in the clouds above a Catholic church in town, so one day some friends and I filled up our cooler full of beer, and headed to check it out first hand. It was a big deal at the time, and was covered by such hard-hitting news journalists as Maury Povich, who was the anchor at the time of A Current Affair. The crowd that day was huge, and we all waited with anticipation. We saw no Mary that day, but we catch what we thought to be the image Jim Bakker sneaking a bribe to Jessica Hahn.

Catholics are the best at finding these images. Maybe it is because they have more deities from which to pick and choose, or maybe it is because they drink more than Protestants. Maybe it is because most Hispanics are Catholic, and it is easier for the Jesus to show up on a tortilla than on a plate of spaghetti or kung pow chicken. When I was a kid growing up in Texas, it seemed like every other week there someone in Hondo or Laredo or San Antonio discovering Jesus on a tortilla. This schtick gets a little tiresome, and just once I would like to see a twist on this tired, old theme. Maybe a Lebanese baker could discover an image of Allah on some pita bread, and he could display it in his store window. Since Muslims don’t take kindly to images of Allah, we could take side bets on how long it would take for a fatwa to be issued, and whether the baker would show up for work the next day, and if so, if he would be without hands. There is no reason we can’t make spiritual occurrences fun!

I asked my friend if he really believed this was a Jesus image, and he replied, “Yes”. Then I asked him why Jesus and Mary always appear in vague images on the barks of trees and tortillas and imprinted seat cushions. I suggested it might make more sense for them to appear on the giant tv screen in Times Square, or to bump the anchor from the CNN news desk. “Well, now you are being ridiculous,” he said.

 

Dismal Science for Hungry Ghosts

The Hungry Ghost is a forlorn spirit burdened with a chasm of unquenchable appetite that appears as a significant archetype in a number of Asian mythologies. In the Book of Enoch from the Christian Apocrypha, the Hungry Ghost manifests as the Grigori, spirits so voracious that they must take human form in an ultimately futile attempt to quell the unappeasable demands that are the very essence of their being. At its most allegorical, the Hungry Ghost certainly represents the insatiable lusts, illusory needs, and seemingly bottomless greed that result in so much ill in human affairs. The modern, educated, person may dismiss Hungry Ghosts and the whole host of other archetypal demons as merely symbolic but our ancestors considered them as real as the thunder, lightening, or human imperfections they described. The modern guy or gal on the go continue to be accosted by all manner of anomalous being , usually on lonely country lanes, but the encounter is inevitably rationalized away as a bit of “undigested roast beef” or better yet temporal lobe epilepsy. But what of the Hungry Ghosts, the Grigori, are they merely imaginary figments? If not, where do they reside and manifest in our enlightened age?

“Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful state of luck.” …The Dalai Lama

Look no further than the Wall Street “financial class” for the contemporary face of the Hungry Ghost. Hungry Ghosts do not create jobs, generate ideas, or produce real wealth. Hungry Ghosts are not entrepreneurs, mavericks, or any thing else that sounds romantic or swashbuckling. They are amoral greed heads who despite their already obscene wealth, continue to suck blood from the stone of every available government loop hole, social earmark, and banking Ponzi scheme, while somehow convincing roughly half of the US voting populace that this is what free enterprise, i.e. democracy, looks like. Thinkest thou upon these things the next time you’re prioritizing your budget between groceries, the mortgage, and the heating bill.

“I know how difficult it is to put food on your family”… George W. Bush.

Propaganda to the contrary, Hungry Ghosts are not particularly intelligent but they are extremely clever and have a talented nose for the path of least resistance. Unrelenting hunger does that to you. Demagogues (the power hungry charismatic leader is another demon for another dissertation) are the historical ally of the Hungry Ghost. Hungry Ghosts will willingly part with relatively small pieces of their treasure to promote demagogues who use their superior people skills to steer discontent mobs toward the Hungry Ghost’s way of seeing things. If this is beginning to sound like modern AM radio, well…you said it not me. The daily AM radio harangue maintains that “government regulations are the true enemy” and cautions that any deviation from this line will lead to the dreaded system of SOCIALISM. This blather masquerades as an ideology called conservatism and worships a mythological figure they call Ronald Reagan (some historians claim that there once really was a person named Ronald Reagan but that he bears little resemblance to the conservative demi-deity). The meta-message in play here is the promotion of the false god of left wing/right wing dichotomy- which more expressive commentators have called the “modern day dumb show”. Social scientists often remark that “the lack of control increases illusory pattern perception”. Really, they say that all the time. Cultural observers will note that as “conservative” radio continues down the winding path toward marginalized cult, the craziness meter will tip further into the red—but don’t stop listening—a wise man dismisses nothing out of hand.

“You can always tell a shit by their need to always be right”…William Burroughs

Since the collapse of the Soviet Union, the word on the street is that communism has failed everywhere it has “been tried”. Of course the man himself, Karl Marx, didn’t recommend just “giving communism a try”, he basically said it “would emerge after capitalism collapsed of its own inner contradictions” (yes, I know Marx eventually came around to pushing revolution as a radical but necessary response to the truly fiendish injustices of the industrial revolution. So what?). Marx said that communism was a historical and inevitable evolutionary process brought about by greedheads always taking more than they need and everybody else being forced to overextend their credit. The last time this bit of Social Darwinism came close to emerging from the historical ooze was during the Great Depression of the 1930s. President Franklin Roosevelt responded to the crisis by implementing some government programs that could be interpreted as SOCIALISM, which gave depression era Hungry Ghosts corresponding conniptions. In retrospect it is clear that FDR’s actions actually prevented the country’s evolutionary collapse into communism. Being the great connivers that they are, the greedhead hungry ghost bastards have continued to do pretty well for themselves in this more mixed economy but their physiological insatiability renders them incapable of any kind of historic perspective on the matter.

“I can conceive of nothing in religion, science, or philosophy that is anything more than the proper thing to wear for a while.” …Charles Hoy Fort

Despite what they try to sell the kids at the Cineplex, during humankind’s darker ages, priests, shamen, and other sundry necromancers never sought to eliminate or defeat Hungry Ghosts or for that matter any other supernatural entity. Rather, throughout history, the enduring hope for much conjuring and other ritualistic running about has been the possibility of bending these energies to human will. The economics of harnessing non-human sentience has always been and always will be a risky and imperfect science (perhaps more grant money…) yet the lassie faire alternative is to let the demon spawn fuck with us as they please. It’s not a great leap from casting out demons to casting out the money changers (we’ll give the unclean a pass on this one). Drafting legislation and creating regulations, analogies to sausage production aside, is too often like so much incredulous conjuring—but unlike say, the vacuous rites of the contemporary church, accountability and oversight actually have the potential to produce some tangible benefit. Government regulation of any kind is an imperfect and risky enterprise and it will never eliminate Hungry Ghosts, but perhaps greed and even the greedy can be constructively harnessed and bent to human will. The alternative is to allow the demon spawn to continue to fuck with us as they please.

“Five years after you get your degree in economics all you’re going to remember are two things-supply and demand”…Father Guido Sarducci

 

Bringing Back Colonel Sanders

I’m done writing about the Mormon Church for a while. Magic underwear and Baptizing dead folks seems too far out for my belief system. I think I’ll just stick to the common sense things about religion that I was brought up believing – like virgin births and talking snakes – and I’ll leave that other stuff with the delusional religious crazies.

Earlier this week, a statue of Colonel Sanders was pulled from a river in Osaka, Japan; where it has rested for the past twenty-five years. Apparently, there was a tradition among the fans of the Hanshin Tigers, of jumping into the river to celebrate the team’s successes. Since many believed that the Colonel had a striking resemblance to Randy Bass, a first baseman who played for the team at the time. Frankly, I don’t see it, and I suspect that most pot-bellied Oklahoma rednecks look like Colonel Sanders to the average Japanese person.

Now KFC is trying to figure out what to do with this statue. This incident is famous for creating the Curse of the Colonel, because since this statue has been submerged, the team’s fortunes have fallen on hard times. For most non-Mormons, this probably sounds like a lot of hocus pocus, but to a Red Sox fan like myself, who suffered from the Curse of the Bambino, it makes absolute sense – like the stories of Noah’s Ark and the Burning Bush.

The team is considering displaying it at the entrance to their stadium, but the Colonial is now missing both of his hands. Personally, I think it should be donated to PETA, an organization that is no fan of KFC or the late Colonel Sanders. It might help to mend fences between the two organizations. They could auction it off as piece of artwork titled The Colonel in Hell. I mean, what could be a greater Hell for the Colonel than living an eternity alone, rock hard, with no hands left to choke the chicken. That is when those Mormon masturbation control techniques might come in handy.

 

Magic Underwear

Yesterday, after doing a google search for a picture of  the magic Mormon underwear, I decided to learn what exactly is the purpose of these things. Apparently, they protect a person from all kinds of evil. I found this site that that gives the LDS approved bullshit full story on these underduds. Apparently, these things protect a person from things such as gunshot wounds and evil spirits. Here is a response, taken from this site, to the question of where this underwear can be acquired:

“Some websites claim to sell garments as well, but unless they are official church sites, it’s usually a hoax”

This got me to thinking about some schmuck who got scammed into buying non-blessed undies on the internet, only to find himself surrounded by demons, lying on the street in Salt Lake City with a gunshot wound, and screaming to himself “Damn! I knew I should not have bought that counterfeit underwear just to save a buck!” CNN should do a report on these scam magic underwear dealers. They could do a whole series on things like fake undies Kaballah water. Maybe Congress could hold some hearings, as well. I can picture a bunch of people in eye patches and wheelchairs, testifying to Barney Frank how they went wild game hunting and bungie jumping in good faith, thinking they were properly protected by what they thought was official Mormon garb.

 

Mental Masturbation

In an effort to grow my spirituality, I have decided to study some of the great religions, and incorporate them into my pathetic daily life. In this spirit, I have given masturbation up for Lent, but I am having a difficult time contending with these hands and thumbs that God gave me. Recently, I ran across this excerpt written by one of the nutjobs 12 apostles of the Mormon Church that I was hoping could help:

Steps In Overcoming Masturbation

Be assured that you can be cured of your difficulty. Many have been, both male and female, and you can be also if you determine that it must be so.

This determination is the first step. That is where we begin. You must decide that you will end this practice, and when you make that decision, the problem will be greatly reduced at once.

But it must be more than a hope or a wish, more than knowing that it is good for you. It must be actually a decision. If you truly make up your mind that you will be cured, then you will have the strength to resist any tendencies which you may have and any temptations which may come to you. After you have made this decision, then observe the following specific guidelines.

A Guide to Self-Control

If you are associated with other persons having this same problem, you must break off their friendship. Never associate with other people having the same weakness. Don’t suppose that two of you will quit together, you never will. You must get away from people of that kind. Just to be in their presence will keep your problem foremost in your mind. The problem must be taken out of your mind for that is where it really exists. Your mind must be on other and more wholesome things.

I wasn’t exactly sure how this comes up in conversation. I asked a couple of gals I know from the gym if they enjoy pleasing themselves. One slapped me, and the other gave me a detailed answer that I was not expecting – both of whom made my “problem” worse. Fortunately for me, when I entered the the gym locker room to take a cold shower, Harold Drost was standing there naked, sans toupee, picking out lint from between the toes of his sweaty feet. This killed the problem, pronto.

When you bathe, do not admire yourself in a mirror. Never stay in the bath more than five or six minutes — just long enough to bathe and dry and dress and then get out of the bathroom into a room where you will have some member of your family present.

As those who know me are aware, me viewing myself in the mirror will do nothing to promote any sexual desire. In fact, it I’ve used my body as birth control for years.

When in bed, if that is where you have your problem for the most part, dress yourself for the night so securely that you cannot easily touch your vital parts, and so that it would be difficult and time consuming for you to remove those clothes. By the time you started to remove protective clothing you would have sufficiently controlled your thinking that the temptation would leave you.

I followed this advice to the letter. Then I leaned over and asked my wife if she had any other ideas that might relieve me of this urge, and she said she couldn’t think of any.

Never read pornographic material. Never read about your problem. Keep it out of mind. Remember — “First a thought, then an act.” The thought pattern must be changed. You must not allow this problem to remain in your mind. When you accomplish that, you soon will be free of the act.

I’ve tossed out my entire collection of National Geographics and JC Penney catalogs porn.

Put wholesome thoughts into your mind at all times. Read good books — Church books — Scriptures — Sermons of the Brethren. Make a daily habit of reading at least one chapter of Scripture, preferably from one of the four Gospels in the New Testament, or the Book of Mormon. The four Gospels — Matthew, Mark, Luke and John — above anything else in the Bible can be helpful because of their uplifting qualities.

I tried this, and it seemed to work – but I inadvertently turned to the story of Sodom and Gomorrah, and I was in a worse state than I was when I started.

 

Swimming In Bongwater

Ross Rebagliati is a Canadian snowboarder who won the Gold Medal in the 1998 Winter Olympics. He was subsequently stripped of his medal after testing positive for marijuana, only to be awarded it once more when the those in charge realized that pot is not a performance enhancing drug, and that every snowboarder on planet earth walks through life stoned. Eliminating snowboarders who smoke pot from the Olympics would make as much sense as eliminating gay figure skaters – it would make it impossible to field a team. Show me a snowboarder who isn’t stoned, and then we’ll have something to talk about. I wasn’t surprised to learn Ross Rebaglaiati tested positive for pot, and not just because he was a snowboarder. Some things are just painfully obvious to me, and after watching a glassy eyed interview he did with the CBC a few months before the Olympics began, where he sounded like Jeff Spicoli and prefaced every sentence with “Dude”; I could have told you he was inclined to enjoy an occasional bong hit or two. I was actually surprised that others were surprised when Ross tested hot.

…surfing’s not a sport, it’s a way of life, you know, a hobby. It’s a way of looking at that wave and saying, “Hey bud, let’s party!’” – Jeff Spicoli

I also knew Michael Phelps was pot smoker, but not because of way he talked. I knew this from an article I had read about him in Sports Illustrated, shortly before the Beijing Olympics. Apparently, his typical breakfast consists of – two BLT’s, a five-egg omelet, two fried eggs, french toast, three large chocolate chip pancakes and bowl of grits. Those are some serious munchies! This is what happens when you mix good weed with the lung capacity of Killer Whale. This is a far cry from the handfuls of Count Chocla that I used to eat straight out of the box while I watched The Flintstones and skipped English class. I remember reading this and thinking to myself, “I want what he is smoking”.

Now some are pretending to believe they are shocked and dismayed at learning that Michael Phelps got caught smoking weed, and they have dropped him as a spokesman. Kellogg’s is the first to do so. Not only is this disingenuous, but it is bad marketing. If anyone is going to profit from a pot smoking college kid advocating the benefits of curing the munchies with bowl of overpriced cereal, it is Kellogg’s. Now a company here in Canada has dropped him from two speaking engagements – one in Calgary and the other in Vancouver, home of the BC Bud and highest population of dope smokers in North America. I first thought that there might be some protests among those attending, once they get there and learn that Martin Sheen, and not Michael Phelps, is going to be their motivational speaker – but then I figured that most of them will be too fucked up to care too much. Still, they have to be a little disappointed, and if this is a breakfast event, I hope those attending will have enough willpower to avoid the Frosted Flakes at the Buffet table.

It would be a different situation if Phelps were smoking a bong at Disneyland in front of children, or promoting it out in public.” – Ross Rebagliati

I’m not a pot smoker, but I couldn’t care less what Michael Phelps chooses to do in private. Of course, this party was attended by dozens of other poor college students, each needing money, and each with a digital camera in their cell phones. If he is guilty of anything, it is of being dumb. The only person more dumb in this case than Michael Phelps, was the owner of the bong from which Phelps was snorkeling. He tried to cash in on this whole thing by selling it on Ebay. So, as it turns out, the biggest lesson in this whole incident is not a moral one, but a practical one – and that is, smoking pot makes you stupid….and hungry. Hell, even just writing about it gives me the munchies, so I’ll end this here. Somewhere in the cabinet there is a bag of Doritos and box Ding Dongs with my name on them.

Spicoli VS Phelps: Tale of the Tape

 

An Elk Walks into a bar…

 

Oh for the love of  Jesus.

Read the article and the comments

http://www.thedenverchannel.com/news/18793588/detail.html#

I can’t add anything to this. It is complete as it stands.

Goofy animals and stupid people.

It’s perfect.

 

An Uncomfortable Movement

I was talking with a friend the other day about a topic that is common place amongst distance runners but not so much with the general population.

Timely bowel movements.

Now, I know most of you upon reading that are thinking. This guy must really be a sophomoric twit.

I can’t argue that, but for other reasons beyond the discussion of poo.

And, you runners out there are thinking. Preach it brother! It’s about time somebody brought feces to the forefront.

For those of us that run beyond 2 miles on a regular basis there is a good chance you have been “caught” in a very uncomfortable situation.

It’s an awful feeling.

You are smack dab in the middle of nowhere. Not a gas station within 10 miles, not that you can make it another 10 feet. Then the come to Jesus feeling that there is no way you will make it and you must find a proper place to discharge yourself. Now pooing in the great outdoors can be tricky. Pissing aint worth mentioning. Heck, there isn’t a square mile in southern Minnesota I haven’t pissed on.

If you gotta piss you piss without a second thought.

Pooping is something different.

The first time this happens you never forget. It’s like losing your virginity. For me, it was a Saturday in the early Fall 1999 I was training for the Twin Cities Marathon. I was 3 miles into my run when it hit hard. I had a mud monkey in my belly and it was screaming to get out. Now, here’s the thing. I was smack dab in the middle of New Brighten. A residential area. Shit! No, really.

But the good Lord was looking out for me, for at the end of the block was a small park. Thank you Jesus!

I dashed behind a bush and did my business quickly. Cleaned up with some leaves and moved on.

Wow, my first public poo.

Later that day, my son over heard me telling the tale and asked me.

Poppa, did you poop like an Indian?

Yes son. Yes I did.

Since then I’ve shit all over the place. I guess I’ve become a bit of a poo whore.

Corn fields, Condos on Clearwater beach, a cemetery just off 75th street.

You name it. I’ve pooped on it.

For you doubters out there, I challenge you to go to your nearest marathon and look at the lines at the port-o-potties. Those are my peeps.

That’s some preddy deep shit man,

Keys