Wednesday, November 18, 2020

Tin Foil Man

Sung to the tune Do It Again by Steely Dan

In the mornin' you go gunnin'
for the gal who stole your semen
And you shove til she is done in
'cause you hates them pregnant women
All the evilists start singin'
as they worship at your feet.
Then they ask you how you're hangin'
and you start to beat your meat

And they yell "Back, Jack, do it again!"
Girls tumbling 'round and down
"You go back, Jack, and do it again!"

When you know she's no high climber
then you need another plan.
So you sneak up from behind her
and you hit her with a pan
Then you act a little naughty
with her, now that she's compliant
Later when they find the body
You come at them all defiant

And you scream "Back, Jack, I'll do it again!
Girls tumbling 'round and down
I'll go back, Jack, and do it again!"

Now you swear and kick and tell us
That you're really a good guy
It's a tale you've tried to sell us
But it's one just blind men buy
All the rest of us can see you
for the charlatan you are
It's what happens when an ego
Tries too hard to be a star, yeah

But you'll go back, Jack, and do it again
Girls tumbling 'round and down
You'll go back, Jack, and do it again


Saturday, November 14, 2020

They Wronged You, Julie Newmar. Thanks for Everything!

If you've got Hulu, get yer ass over there and watch the best Marvel movie of all time! That's right, I'm talking Blade with Wesley Snipes. What a wonderful non-Disneyish experience! And fuck the critics with their snotty biases against the sci-fi/fantasy genre. I'm telling you, this flick is a gem, a blood-letting gorefest inside an homage to kung fu movies inside an African American tour-de-force with absolutely ZERO pandering (yeah, I'm looking at you, Black Panther) inside what I believe to be the best cinematic iteration of a comic book character ever rendered. Snipes was the king back then; too bad he did an Inmendham-style disappearing up his own ass trick and ruined his own career a couple of sequels later. Ah well, at least he got some mileage out of his gig, unlike the aforementioned evilist sado-daddy shower curtain prophet. UPDATE: OMG! Just reading the credits and realized Traci Lords is in this movie! Cherry on top!!!

Monday, October 19, 2020

Ok, Enough of That

So, mea culpa, that's it from me on the Professor Greyroots crap, unless he happens to take me up on my offer (yeah, I'll be holding my breath over that one). I really hate getting involved, and I must discipline myself to remain detached from nonsense and drama. I realize that a lot of people admire passion. I do not. Naturally and like everyone else I am moved by forces not under my control. Let's put it this way: My personal moral and intellectual aesthetic has come under apparent assault, simply by the observation of pigs rolling with pigs. A personal fault, for in the end won't pigs be pigs? Gotta work on that. Anyway, I'm feeling the caesures which move me moving on to greener pastures. However, I do have more to say about my new self-definition as post-antinatalist...a lot more to say, actually... and perhaps over the course of months I'll say it. But always remember, it doesn't matter what I say. It matters what you think. Boingggggggg....

UPDATE: Not saying the interview is right out, but motivations are fickle things. I imagine he'll assault my sense of decency sooner rather than later, and out will come the poison pen once again to slay the is it, exactly? Some kind of Cronenberg freakydeaky?

One More Time With Feeling

Evilists, your fearless leader has advocated the murder of pregnant women!!! He has reiterated that position as recently as yesterday!!!!!! And from what I've heard, there are a few lost souls who are ready and willing to follow through in his name. Absolutely nothing more should have to be said.

Note to Evilists

He preys on your weakness, you know. And seeing that he's actually a monist and believes that in killing you he kills himself...well, do I really have to spell it out for you? You are the back against which he tests his cat-o-nines, his self-flagellation by proxy.

The chance to please you dad has passed, Professor. He's gone. And hasn't this all been a terrible burden to bear? Let it go, and experience the incredible lightness of ending a project that you never had the acumen to complete in the first place. I'm sorry, but there's no Nobel Prize in your future, Professor, including the future of your corpse. You've strayed too far from reality's grip and are lost in the tempest of your own emotional frailty, yet somehow you believe your vicarious immortality lies just on the other side of the secret door that you've bashed your head against your entire life. It doesn't.

Ok, I'm calling a half-day. School's out, children! Enjoy your comradeship while you may, for the sun is surely setting for each of us. I have a poem for this occasion, but I've lost track of it. I think I may have posted it on this blog somewhere. If I can find it, I'll add it here. Best to all of you, even him.

Festivities kick off this afternoon,
the party to dwarf all such galas past.
They'll howl beneath the urgent, waxing moon,
and make love on the waxen, melting grass.

They'll take turns at the speaker's podium
to voice their fair hurrahs and last goodbyes,
and shoot their guns into the tumbling skies-
wee thanes beneath the shoe of kingdom come.

But all the crowing, bluffs, and shaking fists
shall ne'er hold off their portion, and for this,
I'll not attend the circus at the end,
but pause in solitude, remembering friends.

And thus, in recollection of those passed,
I'll make peace with mortality, at last.

If You Don't Like Semi-Obscure References, Then Maybe This Blog Just Isn't For You

Morning, Professor Greyroots! Hey, I just started a new book today by George Plimpton. Remind me of the title? No, I mean YOU remind me of the title. You really, really do.

Difference between you and me, poopchute? I cherish being wrong. It allows me an opportunity to embrace change and to foster my intellect, such as it is. Unlike you, whose rickety abode is built on a foundation of hatred and close-mindedness. If only I could reach through this screen and shake you by your anemic haunches! Your message has become nothing more than a psychedelic ego trip of massive proportions, the absolute worst case of delusional inferiority complex I've ever seen. Maybe that exists on the planet! I guess you are special in that singular way, so...kudos?

Here, pussy! Here puss, puss, puss! Sado-daddy's run a nice bath for you!

Sunday, October 18, 2020

Gladiator, or Pussygator? The Ring of Fire is Open for Business

OK, tough guy, here's your shot. I'm leaving this space open on the off chance that you can fire off a paragraph or two without shitting yourself. Ball's in your court! Time to kitten up, or shut up. Just say your piece in the comments section. I'll even make an exception and let some of your viler stuff in, as long as it's not completely over the top hatred or silliness.

UPDATE: Again, on the off chance that you're not gonna puss 'n' boots out of here, the rule is simple. You challenge me, I answer, then I challenge you and you answer. This ain't my first rodeo, alley cat. Oh, and no worries. I'll treat you and your arguments with exactly the same amount of respect as you treat everybody else. Now how could anything be more fair? If nothing else, maybe you'll learn a lesson about arguing in good faith. Lol! Who am I kidding? You learn a lesson? The list of inanimate objects with more class and integrity than you is long and growing, pretty much any time any creature on this planet takes a dump. See you in the funny pages, chumppppppppp.


He IS a cute little feller, ain't he?

Oh, and no comments by anyone else here. Feelin' kind of a mano v. pervo vibe going on. Can you feel it?