Thursday, June 30, 2005
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
OK.. ok.. So let me get this straight.
You want to scare us again with something that happened 4 fucking years ago. 4 YEARS and you STILL haven't caught the guy that did it. WTF, Mr. Bush?
�Suffering is real�, oh hell it is� right now... IN AMERICA you baboon and YOUR the fucking cause! The world hates us, we the people can�t even read the REAL stories of what�s happening over there.
Iraq WAS a mistake. Even if you don't listen to the people that love conspiracy theories you are still left with a cluster fuck of a problem that didn't need to be there in the first place.
Where in the hell is the MoMD's? For what REASON are we in Iraq in the first place? The Iraqi people? Bull shit. If you cared about them you wouldn�t have pushed this war on their land in the first place. Our people? Again, Bull shit... if you cared about the American people Ben Lauden�s head would be on a pike in front of the White house. Stopping world terror? Again, bull shit, even the media has seen the terrorist blowing MORE shit up after 9/11 then before.
So when the FUCK was America made the police of the world? What RIGHT do we have to tell them what people in another country 1/2 a world away can and can't do? And again, you have twisted the �truth� around to show that Iraq was behind 9/11. That�s not what you said a few years ago!!!
Jesus titty fucking Christ, Iraq is going to be this generations Vietnam... And you see how well the people STILL react to THAT war.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Monday, June 27, 2005
Friday, June 24, 2005
*sigh* here we go again. Ok, first off.. why in the fuck would anyone WANT to buy a house now? I mean really.. spend a few grand into your home, and the local goverment just tells you to go outside and play hide and go fuck yourself. Sometimes I really wish we lived back in the times of the Bible so God could smite these stupid bastards.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Friday, June 17, 2005
OH HELL NO.. WHAT THE FUCK?! Like we don't have enough of our rights taken away because of the stupid fucks in the government. I mean really.. WHAT IN THE HELL would you need to take where I fucking surf? HUH? HUH?! Answer me that you FBI fucktard lap dog. FREE COUNTRY you jask ass. We've already got enough spy ware and you want to fuck my ass while I'm surfing for porn now? FUCK YOU, you son of a one legged whore named Cloie. I'm SO fucking sick of this government bull shit. THEY are the cause of 9/11.. THEY knew we would be at war with Iraq 2 YEARS before we did it.. WHO'S the God Damn Terroists now?! The fucking American government that's who. Hey current leaders of the the US!!! Listen to me.. GO FUCK YOURSELF WITH A 16" RETRACTABLE BATTON!!!! Jesus.. perhaps with a good stiff stick up your ass, you'll be able to push that pea brain of yours into some place that it'll do some good. God, Terry Shivo had more brains then the current leaders of the Government.
A big earthquake with the strength of 8.1 on the Richter scale hits Mexico. Two million Mexicans have died and over a million are injured.
The country is totally ruined and the government doesn't know where to start with asking for help to rebuild. The rest of the world is in shock.
Canada is sending troopers to help the Mexican army control the riots.
Saudi Arabia is sending oil.
Other Latin American countries are sending supplies.
The European community (except France) is sending food and money.
The United States, not to be outdone......
... is sending two million replacement Mexicans.
Wrong.. I know.. but Funny. :p
The country is totally ruined and the government doesn't know where to start with asking for help to rebuild. The rest of the world is in shock.
Canada is sending troopers to help the Mexican army control the riots.
Saudi Arabia is sending oil.
Other Latin American countries are sending supplies.
The European community (except France) is sending food and money.
The United States, not to be outdone......
... is sending two million replacement Mexicans.
Wrong.. I know.. but Funny. :p
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Hello,
I am a very sick little boy. My mother is typing this for me, because I
can't. She is crying. Don't cry, Mommy! Mommy is always sad, but she
says it's not my fault. I asked her if it was God's fault, but she
didn't answer and only started crying harder, so I don't ask her that
anymore.
The reason she is so sad is that I'm so sick. I was born without a body.
It doesn't hurt, except when I try to breathe. The doctors gave me an
artificial body. It is a burlap bag filled with leaves. The doctors said
that was the best they could do on account of us having no money or
insurance. I would like to have a body transplant, but we need more
money. Mommy doesn't work because she said nobody hires crying people. I
said, "Don't cry, Mommy�, and she hugged my burlap bag. Mommy always
gives me hugs, even though she's allergic to burlap and it makes her
sneeze and chafes her real bad.
I hope you will help me. You can help me if you forward this email to
everyone you know. Forward it to people you don't know, too. The doctor
said that for every person you forward this email to, Bill Gates will
team up with AOL and send a nickel to NASA. With that funding, NASA will
collect prayers from school children all over America and have the
astronauts take them up into space so that the angels can hear them
better. Then they will come back to earth and go to the Pope, and he
will take up a collection in church and send all the money to the
doctors. The doctors could help me get better then. Maybe one day I will
be able to play baseball. Right now I can only be third base.
Every time you forward this letter, the astronauts can take another
prayer to the angels and my dream will be closer to coming true. Please
help me. Mommy is so sad, and I want a body. I don't want my leaves to
rot before I turn 10. If you don't forward this email, that's okay.
Mommy says you're a mean and heartless bastard who doesn't care about a
poor little boy with only a head. She says that if you don't stew in
the raw pit of your own guilt-ridden stomach, she hopes you die a long
slow, horrible death and then burn forever in hell. What kind of cruel
person are you that you can't take five freakin' minutes to forward this
to all your friends so that they can feel guilt and shame about ignoring
a poor, bodiless nine-year-old boy? Please help me. I try to be happy,
but it's hard. I wish I had a kitty. I wish I could hold a kitty. I
wish I could hold a kitty that wouldn't chew on me and try to bury its
shit in the leaves of my burlap body. I wish that very much.
I am a very sick little boy. My mother is typing this for me, because I
can't. She is crying. Don't cry, Mommy! Mommy is always sad, but she
says it's not my fault. I asked her if it was God's fault, but she
didn't answer and only started crying harder, so I don't ask her that
anymore.
The reason she is so sad is that I'm so sick. I was born without a body.
It doesn't hurt, except when I try to breathe. The doctors gave me an
artificial body. It is a burlap bag filled with leaves. The doctors said
that was the best they could do on account of us having no money or
insurance. I would like to have a body transplant, but we need more
money. Mommy doesn't work because she said nobody hires crying people. I
said, "Don't cry, Mommy�, and she hugged my burlap bag. Mommy always
gives me hugs, even though she's allergic to burlap and it makes her
sneeze and chafes her real bad.
I hope you will help me. You can help me if you forward this email to
everyone you know. Forward it to people you don't know, too. The doctor
said that for every person you forward this email to, Bill Gates will
team up with AOL and send a nickel to NASA. With that funding, NASA will
collect prayers from school children all over America and have the
astronauts take them up into space so that the angels can hear them
better. Then they will come back to earth and go to the Pope, and he
will take up a collection in church and send all the money to the
doctors. The doctors could help me get better then. Maybe one day I will
be able to play baseball. Right now I can only be third base.
Every time you forward this letter, the astronauts can take another
prayer to the angels and my dream will be closer to coming true. Please
help me. Mommy is so sad, and I want a body. I don't want my leaves to
rot before I turn 10. If you don't forward this email, that's okay.
Mommy says you're a mean and heartless bastard who doesn't care about a
poor little boy with only a head. She says that if you don't stew in
the raw pit of your own guilt-ridden stomach, she hopes you die a long
slow, horrible death and then burn forever in hell. What kind of cruel
person are you that you can't take five freakin' minutes to forward this
to all your friends so that they can feel guilt and shame about ignoring
a poor, bodiless nine-year-old boy? Please help me. I try to be happy,
but it's hard. I wish I had a kitty. I wish I could hold a kitty. I
wish I could hold a kitty that wouldn't chew on me and try to bury its
shit in the leaves of my burlap body. I wish that very much.
Driven to Think
It started out innocently enough.
I began to think at parties now and then-- to loosen up.
Inevitably, though, one thought led to another, and soon I was more than
just a social thinker.
I began to think alone -- "to relax," I told myself -- but I knew it
wasn't true. Thinking became more and more important to me, and finally
I was thinking all the time.
That was when things began to sour at home. One evening I had turned off
the TV and asked my wife about the meaning of life. She spent that night
at her mother's.
I began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment don't
mix, but I couldn't stop myself.
I began to avoid friends at lunchtime so I could read Thoreau and
Kafka.. I would return to the office dizzied and confused, asking, "What
is it exactly we are doing here?"
One day the boss called me in. He said, "Listen, I like you, and it
hurts me to say this, but your thinking has become a real problem. If
you don't stop thinking on the job, you'll have to find another job."
This gave me a lot to think about.
I came home early after my conversation with the boss. "Honey," I
confessed, "I've been thinking..."
"I know you've been thinking," she said, "and I want a divorce!"
"But Honey, surely it's not that serious."
"It is serious," she said, lower lip aquiver. "You think as much as
college professors, and college professors don't make any money, so if
you keep on thinking, we won't have any money!"
"That's a faulty syllogism," I said impatiently.
She exploded in tears of rage and frustration, but I was in no mood to
deal with the emotional drama.
"I'm going to the library," I snarled as I stomped out the door. I
headed for the library, in the mood for some Nietzsche.
I roared into the parking lot with NPR on the radio and ran up to the
big glass doors...
They didn't open. The library was closed.
To this day, I believe that a Higher Power was looking out for me that
night. Leaning on the unfeeling glass, whimpering for Zarathustra, a
poster caught my eye.
"Friend, is heavy thinking ruining your life?" it asked.
You probably recognize that line. It comes from the standard Thinker's
Anonymous poster.
Which is why I am what I am today: a recovering thinker. I never miss a
TA meeting. At each meeting we watch a non-educational video; last week
it was "Porky's." Then we share experiences about how we avoided
thinking since the last meeting.
I still have my job, and things are a lot better at home. Life just
seemed...easier, somehow, as soon as I stopped thinking. I think the
road to recovery is nearly complete for me.
Today, I registered to vote as a Republican
It started out innocently enough.
I began to think at parties now and then-- to loosen up.
Inevitably, though, one thought led to another, and soon I was more than
just a social thinker.
I began to think alone -- "to relax," I told myself -- but I knew it
wasn't true. Thinking became more and more important to me, and finally
I was thinking all the time.
That was when things began to sour at home. One evening I had turned off
the TV and asked my wife about the meaning of life. She spent that night
at her mother's.
I began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment don't
mix, but I couldn't stop myself.
I began to avoid friends at lunchtime so I could read Thoreau and
Kafka.. I would return to the office dizzied and confused, asking, "What
is it exactly we are doing here?"
One day the boss called me in. He said, "Listen, I like you, and it
hurts me to say this, but your thinking has become a real problem. If
you don't stop thinking on the job, you'll have to find another job."
This gave me a lot to think about.
I came home early after my conversation with the boss. "Honey," I
confessed, "I've been thinking..."
"I know you've been thinking," she said, "and I want a divorce!"
"But Honey, surely it's not that serious."
"It is serious," she said, lower lip aquiver. "You think as much as
college professors, and college professors don't make any money, so if
you keep on thinking, we won't have any money!"
"That's a faulty syllogism," I said impatiently.
She exploded in tears of rage and frustration, but I was in no mood to
deal with the emotional drama.
"I'm going to the library," I snarled as I stomped out the door. I
headed for the library, in the mood for some Nietzsche.
I roared into the parking lot with NPR on the radio and ran up to the
big glass doors...
They didn't open. The library was closed.
To this day, I believe that a Higher Power was looking out for me that
night. Leaning on the unfeeling glass, whimpering for Zarathustra, a
poster caught my eye.
"Friend, is heavy thinking ruining your life?" it asked.
You probably recognize that line. It comes from the standard Thinker's
Anonymous poster.
Which is why I am what I am today: a recovering thinker. I never miss a
TA meeting. At each meeting we watch a non-educational video; last week
it was "Porky's." Then we share experiences about how we avoided
thinking since the last meeting.
I still have my job, and things are a lot better at home. Life just
seemed...easier, somehow, as soon as I stopped thinking. I think the
road to recovery is nearly complete for me.
Today, I registered to vote as a Republican
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Monday, June 13, 2005
A Chinese couple named Wong had a new baby. The nurse brings them over a
lovely, healthy, bouncy, definitely Caucasian white baby boy!
"Congratulations," says the nurse to the new parents. "What will you
name the baby?"
The puzzled father looks at his new baby boy and says, "Well, two Wong's
don't make a white, so I think we will name him Sum Ting Wong.�
lovely, healthy, bouncy, definitely Caucasian white baby boy!
"Congratulations," says the nurse to the new parents. "What will you
name the baby?"
The puzzled father looks at his new baby boy and says, "Well, two Wong's
don't make a white, so I think we will name him Sum Ting Wong.�
Apple and Intel.. Think about it people. Apple single handly, can KILL Linux.. With a little work, KILL Unix.. and give Microsoft something they have not had in about 20 years.. Compitition. Here it is, and OS that WORKS. Unlike the Unix throwen together BS, this is an OS that AOHELL users can even use. M$ is out for a rough battle.. and it's going to be fun to watch...
Friday, June 10, 2005
Now why in the hell doesn't this suprise me? The Goverment are just like whores.. Give them an inch, and the stroke and suck you just toget that extra 1/2 inch out of you. WTF, is the problem here people? The problem is that you have got a jack-off for a president that is fucking our country up more then you can even begin to believe.. and now.. NOW we've got other branchs requesting that they GO AGAIST THE FUCKING CONSTUTION to get what they want.. all the in the name of 'peace' No.. it's in the name of POWER to uncle fuckers.
Thursday, June 09, 2005
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
In pharmacology, all drugs have two names - a trade name and a generic name. For example, the trade name of Tylenol is acetaminophen. Aleve is known as naproxen and Advil is ibuprofen. The industry has been looking for a generic name for Viagra. After consideration by a team of government experts, it recently announced the generic name of mycoxafloppin. Also considered were mycoxafailin, mydixadrupin, mydixarizin, mydixadud, dixafix, and of course, ibepokin.
Pfizer Inc. recently indicated that Viagra will soon be available in liquid form and be marketed by Pepsi Cola as a power beverage suitable for use as a mixer. Pepsi's ad campaign claims it will now be possible for a man to literally pour himself a stiff one. Obviously we can no longer call this a soft drink. This additive gives a new meaning to the names of cocktails, highballs and just a good old fashioned stiff drink. Pepsi will market the new concoction by the name of Mount & Do.
It should also be noted that over the past few years, more money has been spent on breast implants and Viagra than on Alzheimer's research. It is believed that as the population ages, there will be a large number of people wandering around with huge breasts and erections, who can't remember what to do with them
Pfizer Inc. recently indicated that Viagra will soon be available in liquid form and be marketed by Pepsi Cola as a power beverage suitable for use as a mixer. Pepsi's ad campaign claims it will now be possible for a man to literally pour himself a stiff one. Obviously we can no longer call this a soft drink. This additive gives a new meaning to the names of cocktails, highballs and just a good old fashioned stiff drink. Pepsi will market the new concoction by the name of Mount & Do.
It should also be noted that over the past few years, more money has been spent on breast implants and Viagra than on Alzheimer's research. It is believed that as the population ages, there will be a large number of people wandering around with huge breasts and erections, who can't remember what to do with them
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
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