When Does Littering, Become a Crime?
Who Needs a Cop, When the Rich Corporate GOP, Is On the Beat, On Dawn Patrol?
Chow Down, Baby! Rich Corporate Republicans, Love a Free Lunch, Just Like Any One Else!
Q: When Does an Incentive to Create Jobs, Become a Dangerous, Double Edged Sword?
A: When the Incentive To Innovate, Is Also an Incentive, to Cut Corners and Cheat!
Q: When Does an Incentive, Or a Tax Cut, Turn Into a “Free Lunch Handout”, For the Corporate Rich?
A: When They Would Have Done It ANYWAY, Without the Handout!
Brain Teaser: Q: When Is a Poorly Maintained, Non-Working, Anti-Blow Valve, On an Ocean Oil Rig, No Longer a “Burdensome, Unnecessary, Business Smothering Regulation?”
A: When It Becomes a Defective Catastrophic LEAK!
Hey Y’all! Fill ‘er Up, With Some “Louisiana Red!” A Low Octane, “Aqua Oil”, Power Packed with Dead Fish Bits, and Bird Protein! You’ll Feel Like Your Car Is Running On Feathers!
* * *
GOP Touts Free Market Spout! Says Oil Leak Is “God’s Gift” To the Gulf, and To the South!
Jeff Davis City - - Headquarters of the Holy Confederate Republican Party (Associated Corporate Full Court Press, both basketball and bar associations!) Story by “Stonewall” Jackson, The Rock of the GOP, at the Battle of “The Republican Bull Run”, 2010, and writer of the books, “The Lost Golf Balls of the Conservative Lost Cause”, “The Last Real Reporter”, and “Why Tax Cuts Are Good For a Conservative’s Shriveled, Evil, Loveless Heart”.
May, 2010 - - Republicans said today that the BP gulf oil spill is a wonderful and uplifting example of how an unregulated free market, and private enterprise, are always finding new and innovative ways to deliver oil directly to the people at the lowest possible transportation costs.
GOP leaders said that BP should be “congratulated” for figuring out that “free ocean currents” were the cheapest, most efficient, and most direct way to get Oil to the People of America, in this time of Energy Need. “The guy who figured that one out should get a Freedom Patriot Enterprise Innovator Medal!” said GOP Kentucky Senate leader, Bitch MyCuntill.
GOP leaders also said that without castrated, ineffective government regulatory agencies, agencies that had been effectively blocked, taken over, and shut down, by Corporate Lobbyists, the “Direct Oil to the People Program” would not have been possible.
GOP Senator Bitch MyCuntill, from the great hillbilly state of Ol’ Kentuck’, said in his folksy, aw shucks, grandpa child molester, southern sheriff, standing in the doorway blockin’ Progress, southern redneck Drawl, “This is a Perfect Example of how Government programs are always failures, and the Private Sector does the Job best!”
He went on to say, “Once the regulatory agencies had their Balls chopped off by the Lobbyists, the Oil industry was free to re-blendify, re-flavor, and enrich the oil deprived waters of the Gulf of Mexico, with a rich fertilizer of life giving, fossilized, mineral rich, moisturizing and shampoo conditioning Nutrients, that will allow our 4 by 4 monster pickup trucks to continue living for decades longer!”
“The oil, along with the added cleansing detergents, will give our Gulf Waters a sexy, wave tossed Sheen, with added Bounce and Color, to what would ordinarily be dull, lifeless water, with fly away split ends! This will attract many Male tourists, who will want to run their fingers thru, and stick their long, rigid, bendable fishing poles, into the sexy gulf Waters, of our Virgin Pure, Fertile White Christian, Wide Open and ready to be Impregnated, Gulf Waters!”
The Senator from Ol’ Kentuck’, a state whose major crops include hillbillies, moonshine, marijuana, illiteracy, and poor health care, said “The innovative Ocean Currents Delivery Program shows you can Trust the unregulated free market, and Corporations, to deliver the most Efficient solution, to Societies Complex Problems!”
“Just think, the oppressed oil is now free of it’s earthly confinement, free of it’s oppression within the trapped, Tyrannical Anti-Liberty Confines of the Commie Socialist Earth, racing to be Free in a Freedom Loving Patriot America! Hallelujah! Praise Jesus!”
“And the wonderful Ocean, bless it’s pure Holy Christian Water Heart, is doing a Superb job of distributing a needed product to the Good Citizens of Flag Waving, White Christian America!”
“Our waters runneth over, with abundant oil! We should all rejoice, at this wonderful Act of God! The unregulated free market, and untamed Corporate Power, are truly God’s Holy Partners, in Creating Man’s Dominion over the Earth, and all its little creatures!”
“And, since the Gulf Ocean Currents are a renewable energy resource, BP is providing us with a perfect blend of fossil and new renewable energy sources, in meeting America’s Energy Needs!”
Signed,
Faint Bernard
The Order of the Holy Water.
* * *
The Rural, Jesus Lovin’, Southern Bumpkin View.
What if we bought a Giant Brita Filter, and chucked it into the Gulf, would that solve the Problem?
What Problem?
If you East Coast, Liberal Faggot Elites, say there is a “problem”, then God damn it, you don’t Love Merca, and YOU are the Problem! Ya Goddamned, Commie Pinko, Fudge Packer Faggot, Homo Queers! Where the fuck are your Christian Values? Just buckle down, shut up, and take whatever the Corporations dish out, no questions asked! Just be glad you got a job!
What, do you have some kinda Problem with Authority? Cuz if you do Pal, then you ain’t bein’ Patriotic, you Commie Socialist Scumbag!
Our Constitutional Founding Fathers Founded this here Patriotic Country so, We, the People, could slaughter and Kill all the Savage UnJesusy Injuns, shoot all the Buffalo for fur coats, AND kill all the Whales in ALL the Oceans so, We, the People, could have lamp oil to read the Holy Bible at night, and see whut kinda Gal we wuz Humpin’, so we could populate and Hold Dominion over the Earth, and spread the word of Jesus, against all them People that believe in the WRONG Religion!
Particularly them thar Moose Limbs thet don’t like Mohammed Cartoons, and them slanty eyed little yellow Asian People, thet believe in God knows whut kinda Weird Rice Bowl Noodle Religion, with all sorts of little bells, and spooky spinning prayer wheels, and them funny religious figures that have nine arms and three penises, and all that other strange UnAmerican what not (plus them sneaky Asians is always studying books, to make us REAL Americans look Stoopid!).
And don’t forgit that Mafia EyeTallyun Catholic Cult! That Pope-a-Dope, Child Molester Religion, with their funny hats, and them Pope Sticks they probably use to diddle the Choirboys with, and Always Spritzing water all over everybody, and then pawin’ and fiddlin’ with the little Choir Boy’s Dicks! Man, them people is Sick!
Don’t you know fucking up the Gulf of Mexico, is part of the price you pay to be a freedom loving Mercan? It’s ONLY a little Oil, ya Big Baby! Get a GRIP! Besides, whut do we care about the Gulf of Mexico? It’s MEXICAN, FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!
THEY AIN’T EVEN WHITE CHRISTIANS! WELL, OKAY, THEY’S CHRISTIAN, BUT THEY AIN’T FULL WHITE CHRISTIANS, THERE IS A DIFFERENCE!
SO THEY DON’T EVEN COUNT AS FULL HUMANS!
COME ON, GET THINGS IN PERSPECTIVE HERE!
* * *
Copyright © 2010. By Bernard Drums! All rights reserved.
* * *
South, At the Border! “Pancho, Why Is the Holy Water On Fire? Is God Angry At the Gringos?”
“Aieee, Chee Wawa! Those Crazy Gringos are at it again! I don’t mind cleaning a few swimming pools, and raking the lawn, but a whole Ocean?”
“Pero el dinero es bueno! (*but the money is good!)
“How much do they Pay?”
“Below minimum wage.”
“That’s Mucho Bueno dinero! A real White Man Deal! With Free Swim Breaks? Okay, I’ll meet you at dee Boat Dock, manana! 5 am sharp! Happy Days, are here again!”
“But Pancho, you can’t swim!”
“Of course I can! Don’t you know all Mexicans can swim? Why do you think they call us Wetbacks?”
“Besides, if I Drown, the White Man will save me! They are kind hearted, GOOD CHRISTIANS, just like Us!”
“Plus, now we can have fish every Friday, like a Good Catholic should, with detergent, mercury AND petroleum Flavor!”
“Just put some butter on it, burn it, and call it Blackened Blue Fish! Tenderized to the Peak of Perfection!”
* * *
www.CultureDrums.BlogSpot.com
Y’all come back now! This here Gulf Seafood is 100 percent oil basted, with GOP BP, “Grand Old Plantation Brand, Banana Peel Flavored” 10W-30, Sour Mash Petroleum, for that True GOP BP southern fried Flavor!
It’s Mmm, Mmm, Lickin’ Good! You Betcha! Sure as shootin’ yerself in the Foot! Also cures Foot in Mouth Disease! Pour some on an Oil Slick, and you’ll feel better!
Works good in yer Hair too! Makes a mighty fine toothpaste, if you don’t have no Big Gubmint, commie socialist, Health Keer, and you can’t afford that super expensive, Big Insurance Company No Care!
“Take it from me, I’m “Louisiana Red”, the anti-Commie, patriot supportin’, Corporate Lovin’, Southern Bubba Republican! The smartest guy, both in the dinghy, and smack dab, up High and Dry, on the dock!”
“I ain’t going nowhere, except maybe to the Big Gubmint, Socialist Handout, Unemployment Office, for a socialist Unemployment check, until we mop up this mess, put it in Oak Barrels, and Fine Age it, for a few years! When that day comes, we’ll be in High Cotton!”
“Hell, we’ll be able to sell this shit for Boat Varnish, Hemorrhoid Crème, and House Paint, and to Upscale, Boutique, Sissy Wine Bars, run by Homos, with Fancy Fern Plants!”
[Tapping his head.]
“Ya see, I got that Innovatin‘, always thinking, job creatin’, Business Kind of a mind!”
“Yes sir! Ain’t this Cuntry gerrate? Po-lootin’ the Gulf! Now that, is whut I call, a Job Creatin’ Opportunity!”
“The Land of Innovation! The Land Of Opportunity! And Fuck Everybody Else!”
“Don’t get in my way, I’m getting Mine, and everybody else, well, they can just Die!”
“I don’t care who I gotta step on, or whut I gotta do, to GET TO THE TOP!”
“I just gotta BE ME!”
“That’s what I call a Totally free, unregulated, FREE Market!”
“Yes, Sir, just like the Wild West, with Cowboys, and Dead Buffalo, and Dead Indians!”
* * *
Y’all come back now!
There’s more where this comes from!
* * *
The following message has been APPROVED by the Moneykey LowCrawley Conservative Bullshit Foundation. Whose slogan is, "What's a girl to do, when she has everything to gain, and Nothing to lose,except her Honor."
Friday, May 28, 2010
Urgent Message To Future Boy, and Future Girl! Time Capsule With Important Instructions!
To Future Boy, and Future Girl! In the Years 2100, 2200 and 2300!
Dear Future Boy and Girl!
Howdy!
Am I being too Optimistic, about your Existence, in my long off Future?
I only say this because when you consider Global Warming, Uptight Republicans, and Fundamental Extremist “Christians/Muslims/Jews, AND Libertarians”, the future looks a little shaky. Do Muslims and Christians still exist in your time, or did they finally Succeed in killing each other off? If they did, was there any one there to Celebrate?
Did Jesus come back, and get Revenge on the Jews, for not believing He was the Son of GOD? Hey, it’s a reasonable Question! You ARE Much Closer to the “End Times”, than I am!
Do Pure Jews still exist, or did they marry all the Palestinians? Would an Arab, and a Jew, be called a “Jawrab”, or an “Arjewb”? Did this drive all the Rabbis crazy, to the point of converting to that Weird Asian Religion, called “Buddyism”, where everybody has to have a religious buddy?
Was the “Christian Rapture Departure Party” as exciting as they say it’s going to be, or did it turn out to be just another “regular dull day”, and postponed again, due to a reign of Reality Rain? Do you guys sell Rapture Vacation Interruption Insurance, if your Rapture Plans are spoiled? Or would that be more like a Vacation “Time Share”?
Holy Allah! I’m just asking, you don’t have to get all huffy! I guess people are still as Sensitive about “their” Religion in the Future, as they are now, huh?
Oh, I have a letter for you! Here it is! But you have to open it first!
(Sounds of envelope being opened, and rustling old crinkly letter paper.)
Here, I’ll read it for you in my disembodied Frozen Voice from the Past!
Hey, be careful there! My Frozen Head is Preserved in that sealed cryogenic bucket of Chocolate flavored Italian Water Ice, sitting next to your foot! Watch My Head! Don’t Slosh it around too much! It gets defrosted around the edges if you do that! Then I don’t look as good to women!
[Printed in bold RED Letters at top of page.]
“OPEN and READ IMMEDIATELY! If you have genetically improved speed reading, or super mental telepathy powers, or one of those Big giant Blobby Brain Heads, still DO NOT DELAY!”
LIFT FLAP! WARNING! DO NOT IGNORE the CONTENTS of this Important Envelope from the Past!
URGENT MESSAGE!
Ready?
Here it is! (Republicans, Super “religious” freaks, Ethically Challenged Businessmen, and Extreme Fundamental Marketists, please pay special attention!)
[TRUMPET FANFARE, from Angelic Drum and Bugle Corp.]
[A LOUD, God like, Echo VOICE. ]
“MESSAGE FOR FUTURE BOY and GIRL!”
Uh-hmm. [Clear throat, self explanatory, Pause for Suspense.]
“PEOPLE OF THE FUTURE! I SAY UNTO YOU! You Must Have Rules, for the Behavior of Businesspeople, or YOU WILL DESCEND INTO CHAOS!”
[Total Silence.]
[Future Person.] Is that it?
[Disembodied Frozen Head.] “Do you want me to repeat it?” [This line can be delivered in either Total Deadpan, or, in a tone of Helpful But Mild Disbelief, or with a rising Hint of Irritation, and, all in an Echoey, Boomy, God like Voice, as if you were God, but frozen in a bucket.]
No, you don’t have to repeat it. But all this Time, to Deliver one Fucking Letter, and this is all you can say, “Have Rules to Prevent Chaos?”
I mean, come on! You communicate Across the Time Barrier, something that was considered IMPOSSIBLE up till now, and all you can say is, “Have Rules for Businesspeople?” That’s it?
[Big, Boomy, God like, frozen bucket VOICE.] “Okay, I was holding back, there is more, you’re right! I’m not finished yet!” [The Sound Echoes in a circle, around the Cryogenic frozen bucket Chamber.] (ECHO, Wecko, snecko… more, smores, bores, yet, bets, nets, bweep. Sloosh.)
“Woosh-Aahh! Woosh Aahh! Uhh-Hmm.” [Deep Breathing, like Jesus breathing into a Giant, Shure brand Microphone, painted black, and stuck in a Nazi helmet, to look like Garth Vader, from the Corporate Empire Strikes back, by Hollywood Deathstar Mega Films.]
“Whoosh-Aahh, Enforce the Rules, whoosh-Aahh!”
“Because actually Enforcing the rules, turns out to be Pretty Important!”
“This means, Jail Time for Bad Behavior, for Breaking the Rules”.
“OH! And, I forgot, you must have Penalties, Serious Penalties, for BREAKING THE RULES!” (ECHO, flecko, blecko… rules, fools, pools, pleent.)
“Otherwise, having the rules is POINTLESS, without Penalties!” (pointless without penalties, pointless, penalties, echo, gecko, fleffil, skwink.)
“Yep! Rules are pretty pointless, if there are no penalties, AND they’re not enforced!” (wurst, burst, cursed, boink.)
“So, how’s that? Is that pretty clear, Future Boy/Girl?”
“Oh, and don’t fire the police on Wall Street, or on any Business Street!”
“There, I’m done.”
(Whooshie-Shmooshie-Aaahh.)
Hang on a second! That last one, I still don’t get! Why do you need a cop on Ball Street, and on “Give ’em the Business” Street?
“BECAUSE THE COPS ENFORCE THE RULES, YOU IDIOT!” (Ka Floormp! Crash! Flungle, bungle, skerreeench!) [Sound of microphone falling, crashing, and rolling onto floor. Soundman on side of stage hits big flat sheet of wiggly metal, with a rubber hammer, for that wiggly wobbly sound.]
[Then, sound of screeching cat, fingernails scraping on a chalkboard, and a high pitched “eeeeeeeee” sound, like when aliens from outer space start invading, and killing all the puny Earthlings.]
(SCREEEEEeeeeeeeeeeCHH!) [Phew! It’s only Feedback, from the microphone.]
(ECHO, BLECKO, SNECKO, didiot, pidiot, diblit, bleent.)
“How STUPID are you guys, in the Future?”
I ain’t Stupid! Don’t call me Stupid!
“Okay, so whaddya Think of my Futuregram, ya Futuretwit? Pretty radical, and gnarly tubular, huh? Like, Dude, it’s so Totally AWESOME!”
“OH! AND by the way, ignore this message, at your own peril! Unless of course, everything is Free in the Future, then you can ALL STEAL from Each other, and IT WON’T MATTER, if you have Rules or not!”
“Pretty Cool, huh?”
“You Future guys shouldn’t have any problems with this, becuz you have BIG Blobby, Cookie Dough, Super Brains, on top of your heads, right?”
“And spindly little stick fingers, just like ET?”
“Do you guys ever get the urge to just, GO HOME, like ET did?”
“No?”
“Hey, do me a favor! In a real low voice, say ‘ET, Phone Home!’”
“Go ahead! It won’t hurt! I’m sure you guys have a zillion cell phone minutes, now that you’re on the Universal Eternity Plan.”
“Do you guys just think of Stuff, and it becomes Instantly Real, like Instant Coffee? You know, like Think Positive, and Abundance will happen, and there will be an open parking space just waiting for you, when you get there?”
“I mean, like, do you guys actually create your Own Reality? Or is it the other way around, where Reality creates You?”
“Hey Man, don’t knock it, you have a lotta time to think, when your head is frozen in a bucket. I mean, these are just your Normal, run of the mill bucket type questions.”
“Talk about your four walls! A Bucket is just one big freakin’ Wall Continuum! I never knew how Quantum Physical a bucket could be! I mean, when you think about it, the Universe is basically just one big Giant Bucket!”
“Plus, when you’re head is in a bucket, you don’t often get to talk with People from the Future. I mean, once in a Lifetime, and that’s about it.”
“Next time, I’m hangin’ some pictures in here. And it helps if you take off the lid, and get some Fresh Air.”
* * *
You’re On Your Own, Future People! Bye-Bye! I’m DEAD!
Okay Future Boy/Girl, that’s it! You’re on your own. I was polite enough to WARN you, now it’s up to you! You see, I’m dead, floating around in a Random Memory Bank somewhere, in a Heavenly Ether Net, on a 9 bazillion gigawiggle flash drive.
It’s not bad, the only problem is, I’m hanging on a cord, around some computer dork’s neck, who sounds just like Squeaky Boy Bill Gates! This Computer Geek wouldn’t know where to put his Penis, if it bonked him in the eye, and said “Over here”.
Hey! A Talking Penis, do they have those in the Future?
Stupid me! Of course they do! It’s that same old “dick” next door, and that douche “cunt” around the corner! Same old, same old! Don't you guys have the new “Anti-Jerk, Anti-Douche Bag” pills yet, that will cure Society’s dicksters and bitch cunts?
Chocolate Frozen Bernie! Mmm, Good! Gee Mom, Can I Have Some More?
Just to be safe, I froze myself, as you know by now, in a bucket of Chocolate flavored Italian water ice, in a secret vault, in case I can come back, and get a new body.
Personally, I got my eye on the Sean Connery-James Bond body style, Model Number 007. I think the Chicks kinda went for his Englishy Shtick, or is that, “His Stick”?
Anyway, I hear that new Human Bodies are very inexpensive in the future, and readily available from General Human MegaZorp, their Fisher Body and Carriage Division, due to low labor costs on distant planets.
“General Hum” figured out how to install advanced computer brains in space animals, and have them work on assembly lines, where the pay really is peanuts, and afterwards, when their service life is over, they make really good stew meat. Aah! Union busting at its Best!
That’s why all the Corporations went into space, right? Lower labor costs? The whole Asia thing was kinda played out, right? I mean, how are ya gonna keep an Asian Labor Cost down on the farm, once they’ve seen Gay Paree?
But my main Message to you is, “Read your History books!”, ya Super Future Boy, and Don’t Keep Repeating the same mistakes once, twice, thrice, or even three times a Lady!
[Dreamy look at the sky. Just how long was Lionel Ritchie’s Schlong? Or was it more like a Man Donkey, or King Kong, Dong? You Big Ape! Hump me!]
Roger That, Space Boy! The Mental Module Has Landed!
Okay? Any Questions? Now if you don’t understand the main point of this Urgent Future Message, I will now explain it to you, as if you are mentally handicapped, or a Space Monkey from the future, with a dual core Intel Chimp Chip, with Microsoft 1776-2.0a., Vista Moon Fuck. Ready? Here goes…
You’re the Mom. Businesspeople are like your little boys playing with matches. Mom doesn’t let the Kids play in the living room with matches, and BURN DOWN THE FINANCIAL HOUSE, while she gets drunk in the kitchen and watches “Oprah, The New Messiah.” Got it?
The Future Republicans should like that one, they like it when things are made Overly Simple. It makes it easier to Sell Ideas to Stupid people, and it appeals to the Republican get rich quick, fuck everybody else Style of Thinking.
Oh! Did Republicans ever find a way to get Markets to “self-regulate” and police themselves, or did they finally give up that shit, when Jew Evolution Science discovered that Foxes would never be able to guard Chickens?
Is it true that Mankind still hasn’t found a way to install a Real Heart in a Republican? Do they know yet if Republicans “choose” their Cold Hearted, greedy, sinful Lifestyle, or are they just Born that Way?
Can Republicans be converted to Love others, if they’re abducted by a spaceship, and spend a week at a Jesus Camp, or are they Doomed to their Perverted Hatred of “The Others”, also known as, “The Different”, or the Sinbad Zinfandel Infidel?
Does Jesus still wear sandals in the Future, or does he have some kind of intergalactic, flying, walk on water Rocket boots? Is Jesus Black, White, or Gray? Was Jesus born in Africa, or was He a REAL White American Citizen? This is very important to some people down here, or I guess I should say, “back here”, in Time.
Does Jesus look Norwegian, with blonde hair and blue eyes, kinda like a Nazi, with tiny lips? Or does Jesus look swarthy brown, or olive toned, or purple black skinned, with kinky hair, big lips, and a big nose, like your Usual Ugly, Non Superior, Nigger Jew Boy?
This is Extremely and Very Important to a lot of Super Religious people back here, in my Time. The Fate of many Church Portraits of Jesus, awaits your Future Answer. Boiled down, I guess I’m really asking, was Jesus Norwegian, or a Nigger? And does this explain why Norwegians can’t dance?
Oh, I forgot, does Jesus have a hook nose, or a ski slope style, or one of those Big Brooklyn Honkers? Or is it kinda tiny, perky and up-turned, like a blond SuperModel?
That’s NOT an unreasonable Question, you jerk! Jesus DID say He was coming back a Second Time, and His Dad has the Power to Do ANYTHING, so he could get a Nose Job you know! If a Jewish Chick on LongGuyland can get a Nose Job, SO CAN JESUS, FOR CHRIST’S SAKE! And He probably needed it, after the JEWS BEAT HIM to DEATH!
No wonder all those Jewish Doctors invented the nose job, they felt sorry for Jesus!
Now, that’s what I call Interfaith Cooperation! Really seeing eye to eye, or nose to nose!
Can you take a little more off the Tip, I’d like to look a little more White!
That’s the Ticket! Damn, that’s one mighty whitey, fine looking Jew! Hollywood, here I come!
* * *
Genetic Binge Engineering, and Was Jesus GAY? Only His Hair Dresser, Knows For Sure!
Oh, do you have the New Genetically Engineered, Bio-Chick, Monsanto Super Wheat Thin Models in the Future? I heard they were only 70 pounds, Dude!
They call them the “Auschwitz House Wisp” Ultra Fashion Model, Size Number .05, made by the Concentrated Genetic UltraTube BioCorpse Fashion Corporation. Just add enough calorie free water from an intravenous tube, for the desired Dress Size and Body Style, fluff into Shape, and Blow Dry!
She’s half human, half chocolate potato computer chips, and half Moisturizer! They claim this will cure Obesity, Eating Disorders, and Dry Skin! All the guys Want her! And the Gay Dress Designers find her “SO EASY” to Drape, she’s just a living DOLL! Would I kid you?
But back to Jesus, cuz he is, as we all know, THE MOST IMPORTANT, Religious Figure of all Time, except maybe a Chunky Chick, with wide hips and a WET PUSSY with large Vaginal Lips.
I’ll Bow Down, and Pray to that! Here’s MY OFFERING! PRAISE the PUSSY! PUSSY, TAKES ME NOW! I iz Ready to Goes to Pussy Heaven!
Oh SWEET PUSSY! YOU ARE MY LORD, AND SAVIOR! WITHOUT YOU, I AM NOTHING!
So, does Jesus, bless his heart, wear hair gel, and a bad rockstar “bedhead” haircut? Or really dirty looking dreadlocks, or those upright “squinched” cowlick points, from Spanky, of Our Gang, that look like an angry gay hair dresser gave you a head massage with Super Glue?
Hairdresser, singing in Manhattan Salon, to “Wash That Man Right Out of My Hair”, while angrily “squinching” customers hair: “I’m gonna wash my Angry Female Side, right out of this Straight white guy’s Hair! Even if it takes the entire, South Pacific!”
“Then I’m gonna Blow Ya, till your DRY! Yippee! I’m a Real Girl, finally, at last!
You put it right in there, silly, that’s where it goes!”
And the Next big Salon musical hit, is the musical “Oklahoma”, renamed “Okay, I’m a Homo!”
The main line of the lead song, first verse? “You’re gonna be OK, in Oklahoma, you Big Homo, cause I’m a Homo, who is OKAY!”
“Cuz I REALLY LOVE Jesus, and his Holy Hot Bod! He’s such a Dreamy Miracle!”
“Now Dance, you cowboy booted Bitch! Dance! Yee-haa! I’m coming out of my right wing, republican, evangelical Closet, right now!”
“I’m gonna Dang it, Wang it, and Hang it, you Wild Conservative White Boy! I’m Free at Last, in the Dark Corners of the Big Republican Tent, with two HUGE Tent POLES, yours and Mine! I’ll meet you in the Bathroom Stall, otherwise known as Big Gulp GOP ‘Head’ Quarters!”
“Oh, GOD! You’re YOOJ!”
[Overhead speaker.]
“Cleanup in Aisle Three! Sticky mess in aisle three! Call the Jesus Janitorial Squad! We need a Holy Mop here! Good Lord, it’s a fucking Biblical FLOOD!”
SKA-WHOOSH!
* * *
Jesus: Boxer, or Briefs?
Now, this Next Question is Really Important! The Entire Right Wing Religious Establishment could either Collapse, or come out of the closet, on this one.
Ready?
Is Jesus a briefs, or boxers guy? Speedo, or regular uptight guy?
Becuz you know, Dude, if it’s Speedo, Americans will freak out over the possibility of Jesus being GAY. Man, that would really mess up all those “Burn Again” EvanJelloLocos!
Jesus, what if Jesus, is GAY? Never thought of that did you? It’s Possible!
He WAS into all that Lovey dovey shit! And, He traveled around with 12 “Disciples”, all Men, “learning” (wink wink) HIS “WAYS”, if you know what I mean! And what about all that Turning and Kissing the “other cheek”! Who’s Cheek? WHAT Cheek? I wonder what THAT meant, hmmm? I mean, Dude, this is Important stuff!
And those 12 Disciples (or “learners”) were probably all sharing the same animal stables, and cuddling up to keep warm in the same hay bales, and barn stalls, which as you know, are very similar to today’s airport bathroom stalls, where they are always catching Republicans and right wing Preachers! Could it be Genetic, or are they just Choosing this Sinful Bathroom Stall lifestyle?
If Jesus is Gay, think of the Marketing Opportunities! Gay dudes have lots of MONEY!
You could sell him as the Gold Medal Winner, in the Walk on Water Swim Team Olympics! Or the Special “Special” Olympics, with Miracle Cures for God’s Little Sinful Defectives, those who have chosen to be Sinfully Sexually Handicapped! Frosted Flakes Cereal Box, here I come! It’s a Frosted Fruity Miracle! Think of the “Recruitment” possibilities for a whole new crop, of Serial, happily gay, customers!
Now, one last thing.
Is Jesus into body piercing, or tattoos, like, you know, your standard Sailor Boy “I Luv Mary” inside a Big Valentine Heart Chocolate Box, or your Typical Underclass Chick with her “Butterfly over Her Ass Crack, or above Her Precious Wet Hungry Pussy”, or your standard, gaudy, Overdone Crosses with Snakes and Christmas Lights, or just a plain old “Jesus (Heart) You”?
Or, maybe a Euro street sign tattoo, of a Priest fondling a little boy, with a “No” slash thru it? Or, the New 11th Catholic Commandment, “Holy Father, Thou Shall Not Diddle, with the Choir Boys Fiddles”?
If Jesus is into tattoos, is His whole arm GREEN, from the Tattoos, like a Circus Freak, or more like a Skin Fungus Disease, or Gangrene, from Hanging Out on the Cross too long? Ya know, these are Important Fashion and Medical Questions! Was it Gangrene, or Tattoos? Cuz if it was Gangrene, you gotta amputate!
Oh, forget about the body piercing Question! I just remembered about Jesus being NAILED to the Cross. Major body Piercing on that one! WOW, Dude! Bummer!
Wrap It Up!
I guess that about covers it…
Oh, now that you’re reading this from the Future, and I really have been very patient, waiting to hear from you, which is probably why you Haven’t Called (you Bitch) do you have the long predicted Flying Cars yet? Or steak in a Pill?
And do you have those automatic, life sized, super-realistic sex mannequins that replace real Women, and say things like “Fuck me now, Big Boy, you’re the Bestest guy a Girl could EVER Have?” Or, “Oh God! Your Meat is Huge! I just love your Yooj Juicy Fandango Meatstick! You Snake! My god, You Elephant!”
Huge is pronounced “yooj”, in Nu Yawkese, when you turn on her “Accent” switch, which is located on her back, just below her ass, for easy access, for some of that Hot Brooklyn Flavor! “Oh Tony, your Meat is Yooj! I don’t know if I can take it ALL in, in my tiny little Tight Pussy, that’s just waiting for your YOOJ MEAT! Is that a Cocko SALAMI, or what?!”
If you can answer these questions, please reach me at the following email address: Jetson Hotel, 64 Bit Ram Drive, Megahertz City, Ford Galaxy Number 9, Cosmic Nebula 764 Million, dot/com/universe/Big Bang Parkway. Attention: Faint, ever so faint, Bernard. I’m just Mr. Dust in the Wind!
The post office should have no trouble finding me, because as you well know, they did eventually find Santa Claus at the North Pole. He was Frozen, and when the Global Warming came, that’s when they finally found him. It wasn’t pretty.
Wolves, bears, polar sharks, angry kids, Businessmen, corporate retailers, you get the picture… Some tattered red fluffy velvet, and a few white hairs, and a belt buckle, was about all that was left of him, although he had Neatly Filed Every Last Kid’s Gift List, in fireproof, waterproof, filing cabinets, using the John Dewey card catalog Greenwich Time Zone system.
Okay, I’m gonna go and heat up some frozen Industrial Meat Paste, you get pretty hungry floating around up here all day. And besides, I want to get in out of the solar wind, it really does dry out your skin if you don’t moisturize…
Signed,
Your little Cosmic Buddy,
Faint Bernard
As faint as a twinkly little star!
Never quite made Saint, but I'm still workin' on it...
I think I got a good chance to make Saint, cuz I never Molested anybody, except myself, during my time as a Sexual Priest, to the Women of the World!
Don't defrost me too fast! I don’t want to get Lumpy Frozen Spots!
And scrap any petroleum jelly from my face! It keeps off the Freezer Burn, but if you don’t remove it first, it’ll catch fire from the Microwave Defroster, just like those Frozen Dinner Entrees! And Burnt plastic doesn’t make good cologne.
Hey, do you guys in the future ever watch old Star Trek the Next Generation episodes?
Did the USA ever have affordable national health care? Or did the insurance companies just keep on fucking everybody till the end of time?
Let me know, because I need a doctor to look at this flipper thing that's growin' on my forehead.
Do you guys have flippers?
How long are your Dicks?
Copyright © 2010 by Bernard Drums! All rights Reserved, including my right to chop my head off, and wait for the FUTURE!
Now if I could just get a little better TV programming, I could find out if Picard, as Locutus, gets rescued from the Borg. Did you guys see that episode? Hey, if you guys turned into the Borg, you can forget about defrosting me! And you can lose my email address too!
Just press Delete! I don’t want to be a Borg Dude, with tubes and shit all in me, even though those rubber suits are pretty damn Impressive!
Squeak, squeak. Zizz-zizz! Ka-Chunk!
“I am Bernard, of Flatulus! You will Obey! Resistance is FUTILE!”
“You will be Assimilated, if you are a LEGAL AGE FEMALE! Your DELICIOUS ASS, will be THOROUGHLY STIMULATED, by my prodigious KISSES and LICKS !”
“Oh yes, Bernardy! My Resistance IS FUTILE! I won’t resist you at all! I’ll be your Little Borgy Button Dog!”
“Stimulate Me Immediately, You Big Hunky Man Machine You! I’ll Do EVERYTHING you want me to! I just love a Man in a Impressive Dominating Suit, with a Hard as Steel, oversized ELECTRIC PENIS!”
“I’ll be your Little Borgy Worgy Love Doll, FOREVER!”
“STIMULATE ME! AGAIN! AGAIN! AGAIN!”
“FASTER!”
“KEEP…”
“GOING…”
“OH! Wulla, Wulla, WULLAAAH!”
“NOW, BORG ME! BORG IT! HARDER, You Half Man, Half Dick!”
“Jam Your Swedish Jesus Smorgas Borg Penis, IN ME, ALL THE WAY! To the END of My LOVE TUNNEL!”
“DON’T STOP! YOU Hot Sex Machine!”
“I NEED IT ALL THE TIME, TILL THE END OF TIME! Becuz I AM ME! I AM WOMAN! Becuz I bring home the bacon, and slosh it around, all over me!”
“I NEVER, EVER, GET ENOUGH!”
“NOW TAKE OUT THE FUCKING GARBAGE Dear, and FIX THE FUCKING ROOF! And, WHEN YOUR DONE THAT, I’LL THINK OF SOMETHING ELSE FOR YOU TO DO, LIKE BUYING ME SOMETHING NICE! You Pussy whipped Wuss!”
“OH! And how about FUCKING ME BETTER, you lazy ass Fucker! That wasn’t quite as good, as I like it! See that you get a little more practice, and show a little more Enthusiasm! Anything worth doing, is worth doing well! I’m warning you, if you don’t fuck me in the Style I Deserve, then I’ll find someone who will!”
“And don’t give me any of that Crap about you think you’re having a Heart attack! I’m not gonna fall for that shit anymore! And you better have a Big Life Insurance Policy, Buddy, and ALL paid up, or you’re not coming near this PUSSY!”
Husband: “Yes, Dear. You’re the Boss. Whatever you say. I don’t mind. I lost my balls a long time ago. I think you put them in the Blender.”
“You see, philosophically, for a man, marriage is a lot like being a Dog. When you finally get ‘Fixed’, you’re a lot calmer. And you don’t pee on the carpet. And besides, I never could lick my own balls, anyway.”
“Overall, you get used to being treated like a dog. You even get used to leaving all your ‘Own Shit’ outside. And, after awhile, you even get used to eating shit.”
“Dogs, and husbands, the American Girl’s Pets. And a Girl’s Best Security System.
“WOOF!”
“Yes Dear!”
“And don’t forget to buy ‘He Man Dog Food’ for your male pets! With sweet, sour, and bitter Sauce to keep the meal from being to hard to swallow!”
“Buy a Big Old Bag Today!”
“That’s ‘He Man Brand Dog Food!’ Feed your Pets Right!”
“Anything, for the American Pussy, and her Style of Life! The Alpha Queen, and Royal Bitch, of Pet World!”
“WooF!”
“See, even he says, ‘That’s right Dear!’”
“Good Doggie! Now Go FETCH!”
“And bring Momma back, something Big, and Expensive!”
“Good Boy!”
“Now wag your Tail!”
“Now fuck me!”
* * *
www.CultureDrums.BlogSpot.com
Y’all come back!
I just might, have a drop or two left.
Do I look better in this flea collar, or that one?
* * *
“Miss Sodginee, may I go the bathroom, please?”
“No, you may not.”
“You have to stay in class, and learn your lesson.”
* * *
Dear Future Boy and Girl!
Howdy!
Am I being too Optimistic, about your Existence, in my long off Future?
I only say this because when you consider Global Warming, Uptight Republicans, and Fundamental Extremist “Christians/Muslims/Jews, AND Libertarians”, the future looks a little shaky. Do Muslims and Christians still exist in your time, or did they finally Succeed in killing each other off? If they did, was there any one there to Celebrate?
Did Jesus come back, and get Revenge on the Jews, for not believing He was the Son of GOD? Hey, it’s a reasonable Question! You ARE Much Closer to the “End Times”, than I am!
Do Pure Jews still exist, or did they marry all the Palestinians? Would an Arab, and a Jew, be called a “Jawrab”, or an “Arjewb”? Did this drive all the Rabbis crazy, to the point of converting to that Weird Asian Religion, called “Buddyism”, where everybody has to have a religious buddy?
Was the “Christian Rapture Departure Party” as exciting as they say it’s going to be, or did it turn out to be just another “regular dull day”, and postponed again, due to a reign of Reality Rain? Do you guys sell Rapture Vacation Interruption Insurance, if your Rapture Plans are spoiled? Or would that be more like a Vacation “Time Share”?
Holy Allah! I’m just asking, you don’t have to get all huffy! I guess people are still as Sensitive about “their” Religion in the Future, as they are now, huh?
Oh, I have a letter for you! Here it is! But you have to open it first!
(Sounds of envelope being opened, and rustling old crinkly letter paper.)
Here, I’ll read it for you in my disembodied Frozen Voice from the Past!
Hey, be careful there! My Frozen Head is Preserved in that sealed cryogenic bucket of Chocolate flavored Italian Water Ice, sitting next to your foot! Watch My Head! Don’t Slosh it around too much! It gets defrosted around the edges if you do that! Then I don’t look as good to women!
[Printed in bold RED Letters at top of page.]
“OPEN and READ IMMEDIATELY! If you have genetically improved speed reading, or super mental telepathy powers, or one of those Big giant Blobby Brain Heads, still DO NOT DELAY!”
LIFT FLAP! WARNING! DO NOT IGNORE the CONTENTS of this Important Envelope from the Past!
URGENT MESSAGE!
Ready?
Here it is! (Republicans, Super “religious” freaks, Ethically Challenged Businessmen, and Extreme Fundamental Marketists, please pay special attention!)
[TRUMPET FANFARE, from Angelic Drum and Bugle Corp.]
[A LOUD, God like, Echo VOICE. ]
“MESSAGE FOR FUTURE BOY and GIRL!”
Uh-hmm. [Clear throat, self explanatory, Pause for Suspense.]
“PEOPLE OF THE FUTURE! I SAY UNTO YOU! You Must Have Rules, for the Behavior of Businesspeople, or YOU WILL DESCEND INTO CHAOS!”
[Total Silence.]
[Future Person.] Is that it?
[Disembodied Frozen Head.] “Do you want me to repeat it?” [This line can be delivered in either Total Deadpan, or, in a tone of Helpful But Mild Disbelief, or with a rising Hint of Irritation, and, all in an Echoey, Boomy, God like Voice, as if you were God, but frozen in a bucket.]
No, you don’t have to repeat it. But all this Time, to Deliver one Fucking Letter, and this is all you can say, “Have Rules to Prevent Chaos?”
I mean, come on! You communicate Across the Time Barrier, something that was considered IMPOSSIBLE up till now, and all you can say is, “Have Rules for Businesspeople?” That’s it?
[Big, Boomy, God like, frozen bucket VOICE.] “Okay, I was holding back, there is more, you’re right! I’m not finished yet!” [The Sound Echoes in a circle, around the Cryogenic frozen bucket Chamber.] (ECHO, Wecko, snecko… more, smores, bores, yet, bets, nets, bweep. Sloosh.)
“Woosh-Aahh! Woosh Aahh! Uhh-Hmm.” [Deep Breathing, like Jesus breathing into a Giant, Shure brand Microphone, painted black, and stuck in a Nazi helmet, to look like Garth Vader, from the Corporate Empire Strikes back, by Hollywood Deathstar Mega Films.]
“Whoosh-Aahh, Enforce the Rules, whoosh-Aahh!”
“Because actually Enforcing the rules, turns out to be Pretty Important!”
“This means, Jail Time for Bad Behavior, for Breaking the Rules”.
“OH! And, I forgot, you must have Penalties, Serious Penalties, for BREAKING THE RULES!” (ECHO, flecko, blecko… rules, fools, pools, pleent.)
“Otherwise, having the rules is POINTLESS, without Penalties!” (pointless without penalties, pointless, penalties, echo, gecko, fleffil, skwink.)
“Yep! Rules are pretty pointless, if there are no penalties, AND they’re not enforced!” (wurst, burst, cursed, boink.)
“So, how’s that? Is that pretty clear, Future Boy/Girl?”
“Oh, and don’t fire the police on Wall Street, or on any Business Street!”
“There, I’m done.”
(Whooshie-Shmooshie-Aaahh.)
Hang on a second! That last one, I still don’t get! Why do you need a cop on Ball Street, and on “Give ’em the Business” Street?
“BECAUSE THE COPS ENFORCE THE RULES, YOU IDIOT!” (Ka Floormp! Crash! Flungle, bungle, skerreeench!) [Sound of microphone falling, crashing, and rolling onto floor. Soundman on side of stage hits big flat sheet of wiggly metal, with a rubber hammer, for that wiggly wobbly sound.]
[Then, sound of screeching cat, fingernails scraping on a chalkboard, and a high pitched “eeeeeeeee” sound, like when aliens from outer space start invading, and killing all the puny Earthlings.]
(SCREEEEEeeeeeeeeeeCHH!) [Phew! It’s only Feedback, from the microphone.]
(ECHO, BLECKO, SNECKO, didiot, pidiot, diblit, bleent.)
“How STUPID are you guys, in the Future?”
I ain’t Stupid! Don’t call me Stupid!
“Okay, so whaddya Think of my Futuregram, ya Futuretwit? Pretty radical, and gnarly tubular, huh? Like, Dude, it’s so Totally AWESOME!”
“OH! AND by the way, ignore this message, at your own peril! Unless of course, everything is Free in the Future, then you can ALL STEAL from Each other, and IT WON’T MATTER, if you have Rules or not!”
“Pretty Cool, huh?”
“You Future guys shouldn’t have any problems with this, becuz you have BIG Blobby, Cookie Dough, Super Brains, on top of your heads, right?”
“And spindly little stick fingers, just like ET?”
“Do you guys ever get the urge to just, GO HOME, like ET did?”
“No?”
“Hey, do me a favor! In a real low voice, say ‘ET, Phone Home!’”
“Go ahead! It won’t hurt! I’m sure you guys have a zillion cell phone minutes, now that you’re on the Universal Eternity Plan.”
“Do you guys just think of Stuff, and it becomes Instantly Real, like Instant Coffee? You know, like Think Positive, and Abundance will happen, and there will be an open parking space just waiting for you, when you get there?”
“I mean, like, do you guys actually create your Own Reality? Or is it the other way around, where Reality creates You?”
“Hey Man, don’t knock it, you have a lotta time to think, when your head is frozen in a bucket. I mean, these are just your Normal, run of the mill bucket type questions.”
“Talk about your four walls! A Bucket is just one big freakin’ Wall Continuum! I never knew how Quantum Physical a bucket could be! I mean, when you think about it, the Universe is basically just one big Giant Bucket!”
“Plus, when you’re head is in a bucket, you don’t often get to talk with People from the Future. I mean, once in a Lifetime, and that’s about it.”
“Next time, I’m hangin’ some pictures in here. And it helps if you take off the lid, and get some Fresh Air.”
* * *
You’re On Your Own, Future People! Bye-Bye! I’m DEAD!
Okay Future Boy/Girl, that’s it! You’re on your own. I was polite enough to WARN you, now it’s up to you! You see, I’m dead, floating around in a Random Memory Bank somewhere, in a Heavenly Ether Net, on a 9 bazillion gigawiggle flash drive.
It’s not bad, the only problem is, I’m hanging on a cord, around some computer dork’s neck, who sounds just like Squeaky Boy Bill Gates! This Computer Geek wouldn’t know where to put his Penis, if it bonked him in the eye, and said “Over here”.
Hey! A Talking Penis, do they have those in the Future?
Stupid me! Of course they do! It’s that same old “dick” next door, and that douche “cunt” around the corner! Same old, same old! Don't you guys have the new “Anti-Jerk, Anti-Douche Bag” pills yet, that will cure Society’s dicksters and bitch cunts?
Chocolate Frozen Bernie! Mmm, Good! Gee Mom, Can I Have Some More?
Just to be safe, I froze myself, as you know by now, in a bucket of Chocolate flavored Italian water ice, in a secret vault, in case I can come back, and get a new body.
Personally, I got my eye on the Sean Connery-James Bond body style, Model Number 007. I think the Chicks kinda went for his Englishy Shtick, or is that, “His Stick”?
Anyway, I hear that new Human Bodies are very inexpensive in the future, and readily available from General Human MegaZorp, their Fisher Body and Carriage Division, due to low labor costs on distant planets.
“General Hum” figured out how to install advanced computer brains in space animals, and have them work on assembly lines, where the pay really is peanuts, and afterwards, when their service life is over, they make really good stew meat. Aah! Union busting at its Best!
That’s why all the Corporations went into space, right? Lower labor costs? The whole Asia thing was kinda played out, right? I mean, how are ya gonna keep an Asian Labor Cost down on the farm, once they’ve seen Gay Paree?
But my main Message to you is, “Read your History books!”, ya Super Future Boy, and Don’t Keep Repeating the same mistakes once, twice, thrice, or even three times a Lady!
[Dreamy look at the sky. Just how long was Lionel Ritchie’s Schlong? Or was it more like a Man Donkey, or King Kong, Dong? You Big Ape! Hump me!]
Roger That, Space Boy! The Mental Module Has Landed!
Okay? Any Questions? Now if you don’t understand the main point of this Urgent Future Message, I will now explain it to you, as if you are mentally handicapped, or a Space Monkey from the future, with a dual core Intel Chimp Chip, with Microsoft 1776-2.0a., Vista Moon Fuck. Ready? Here goes…
You’re the Mom. Businesspeople are like your little boys playing with matches. Mom doesn’t let the Kids play in the living room with matches, and BURN DOWN THE FINANCIAL HOUSE, while she gets drunk in the kitchen and watches “Oprah, The New Messiah.” Got it?
The Future Republicans should like that one, they like it when things are made Overly Simple. It makes it easier to Sell Ideas to Stupid people, and it appeals to the Republican get rich quick, fuck everybody else Style of Thinking.
Oh! Did Republicans ever find a way to get Markets to “self-regulate” and police themselves, or did they finally give up that shit, when Jew Evolution Science discovered that Foxes would never be able to guard Chickens?
Is it true that Mankind still hasn’t found a way to install a Real Heart in a Republican? Do they know yet if Republicans “choose” their Cold Hearted, greedy, sinful Lifestyle, or are they just Born that Way?
Can Republicans be converted to Love others, if they’re abducted by a spaceship, and spend a week at a Jesus Camp, or are they Doomed to their Perverted Hatred of “The Others”, also known as, “The Different”, or the Sinbad Zinfandel Infidel?
Does Jesus still wear sandals in the Future, or does he have some kind of intergalactic, flying, walk on water Rocket boots? Is Jesus Black, White, or Gray? Was Jesus born in Africa, or was He a REAL White American Citizen? This is very important to some people down here, or I guess I should say, “back here”, in Time.
Does Jesus look Norwegian, with blonde hair and blue eyes, kinda like a Nazi, with tiny lips? Or does Jesus look swarthy brown, or olive toned, or purple black skinned, with kinky hair, big lips, and a big nose, like your Usual Ugly, Non Superior, Nigger Jew Boy?
This is Extremely and Very Important to a lot of Super Religious people back here, in my Time. The Fate of many Church Portraits of Jesus, awaits your Future Answer. Boiled down, I guess I’m really asking, was Jesus Norwegian, or a Nigger? And does this explain why Norwegians can’t dance?
Oh, I forgot, does Jesus have a hook nose, or a ski slope style, or one of those Big Brooklyn Honkers? Or is it kinda tiny, perky and up-turned, like a blond SuperModel?
That’s NOT an unreasonable Question, you jerk! Jesus DID say He was coming back a Second Time, and His Dad has the Power to Do ANYTHING, so he could get a Nose Job you know! If a Jewish Chick on LongGuyland can get a Nose Job, SO CAN JESUS, FOR CHRIST’S SAKE! And He probably needed it, after the JEWS BEAT HIM to DEATH!
No wonder all those Jewish Doctors invented the nose job, they felt sorry for Jesus!
Now, that’s what I call Interfaith Cooperation! Really seeing eye to eye, or nose to nose!
Can you take a little more off the Tip, I’d like to look a little more White!
That’s the Ticket! Damn, that’s one mighty whitey, fine looking Jew! Hollywood, here I come!
* * *
Genetic Binge Engineering, and Was Jesus GAY? Only His Hair Dresser, Knows For Sure!
Oh, do you have the New Genetically Engineered, Bio-Chick, Monsanto Super Wheat Thin Models in the Future? I heard they were only 70 pounds, Dude!
They call them the “Auschwitz House Wisp” Ultra Fashion Model, Size Number .05, made by the Concentrated Genetic UltraTube BioCorpse Fashion Corporation. Just add enough calorie free water from an intravenous tube, for the desired Dress Size and Body Style, fluff into Shape, and Blow Dry!
She’s half human, half chocolate potato computer chips, and half Moisturizer! They claim this will cure Obesity, Eating Disorders, and Dry Skin! All the guys Want her! And the Gay Dress Designers find her “SO EASY” to Drape, she’s just a living DOLL! Would I kid you?
But back to Jesus, cuz he is, as we all know, THE MOST IMPORTANT, Religious Figure of all Time, except maybe a Chunky Chick, with wide hips and a WET PUSSY with large Vaginal Lips.
I’ll Bow Down, and Pray to that! Here’s MY OFFERING! PRAISE the PUSSY! PUSSY, TAKES ME NOW! I iz Ready to Goes to Pussy Heaven!
Oh SWEET PUSSY! YOU ARE MY LORD, AND SAVIOR! WITHOUT YOU, I AM NOTHING!
So, does Jesus, bless his heart, wear hair gel, and a bad rockstar “bedhead” haircut? Or really dirty looking dreadlocks, or those upright “squinched” cowlick points, from Spanky, of Our Gang, that look like an angry gay hair dresser gave you a head massage with Super Glue?
Hairdresser, singing in Manhattan Salon, to “Wash That Man Right Out of My Hair”, while angrily “squinching” customers hair: “I’m gonna wash my Angry Female Side, right out of this Straight white guy’s Hair! Even if it takes the entire, South Pacific!”
“Then I’m gonna Blow Ya, till your DRY! Yippee! I’m a Real Girl, finally, at last!
You put it right in there, silly, that’s where it goes!”
And the Next big Salon musical hit, is the musical “Oklahoma”, renamed “Okay, I’m a Homo!”
The main line of the lead song, first verse? “You’re gonna be OK, in Oklahoma, you Big Homo, cause I’m a Homo, who is OKAY!”
“Cuz I REALLY LOVE Jesus, and his Holy Hot Bod! He’s such a Dreamy Miracle!”
“Now Dance, you cowboy booted Bitch! Dance! Yee-haa! I’m coming out of my right wing, republican, evangelical Closet, right now!”
“I’m gonna Dang it, Wang it, and Hang it, you Wild Conservative White Boy! I’m Free at Last, in the Dark Corners of the Big Republican Tent, with two HUGE Tent POLES, yours and Mine! I’ll meet you in the Bathroom Stall, otherwise known as Big Gulp GOP ‘Head’ Quarters!”
“Oh, GOD! You’re YOOJ!”
[Overhead speaker.]
“Cleanup in Aisle Three! Sticky mess in aisle three! Call the Jesus Janitorial Squad! We need a Holy Mop here! Good Lord, it’s a fucking Biblical FLOOD!”
SKA-WHOOSH!
* * *
Jesus: Boxer, or Briefs?
Now, this Next Question is Really Important! The Entire Right Wing Religious Establishment could either Collapse, or come out of the closet, on this one.
Ready?
Is Jesus a briefs, or boxers guy? Speedo, or regular uptight guy?
Becuz you know, Dude, if it’s Speedo, Americans will freak out over the possibility of Jesus being GAY. Man, that would really mess up all those “Burn Again” EvanJelloLocos!
Jesus, what if Jesus, is GAY? Never thought of that did you? It’s Possible!
He WAS into all that Lovey dovey shit! And, He traveled around with 12 “Disciples”, all Men, “learning” (wink wink) HIS “WAYS”, if you know what I mean! And what about all that Turning and Kissing the “other cheek”! Who’s Cheek? WHAT Cheek? I wonder what THAT meant, hmmm? I mean, Dude, this is Important stuff!
And those 12 Disciples (or “learners”) were probably all sharing the same animal stables, and cuddling up to keep warm in the same hay bales, and barn stalls, which as you know, are very similar to today’s airport bathroom stalls, where they are always catching Republicans and right wing Preachers! Could it be Genetic, or are they just Choosing this Sinful Bathroom Stall lifestyle?
If Jesus is Gay, think of the Marketing Opportunities! Gay dudes have lots of MONEY!
You could sell him as the Gold Medal Winner, in the Walk on Water Swim Team Olympics! Or the Special “Special” Olympics, with Miracle Cures for God’s Little Sinful Defectives, those who have chosen to be Sinfully Sexually Handicapped! Frosted Flakes Cereal Box, here I come! It’s a Frosted Fruity Miracle! Think of the “Recruitment” possibilities for a whole new crop, of Serial, happily gay, customers!
Now, one last thing.
Is Jesus into body piercing, or tattoos, like, you know, your standard Sailor Boy “I Luv Mary” inside a Big Valentine Heart Chocolate Box, or your Typical Underclass Chick with her “Butterfly over Her Ass Crack, or above Her Precious Wet Hungry Pussy”, or your standard, gaudy, Overdone Crosses with Snakes and Christmas Lights, or just a plain old “Jesus (Heart) You”?
Or, maybe a Euro street sign tattoo, of a Priest fondling a little boy, with a “No” slash thru it? Or, the New 11th Catholic Commandment, “Holy Father, Thou Shall Not Diddle, with the Choir Boys Fiddles”?
If Jesus is into tattoos, is His whole arm GREEN, from the Tattoos, like a Circus Freak, or more like a Skin Fungus Disease, or Gangrene, from Hanging Out on the Cross too long? Ya know, these are Important Fashion and Medical Questions! Was it Gangrene, or Tattoos? Cuz if it was Gangrene, you gotta amputate!
Oh, forget about the body piercing Question! I just remembered about Jesus being NAILED to the Cross. Major body Piercing on that one! WOW, Dude! Bummer!
Wrap It Up!
I guess that about covers it…
Oh, now that you’re reading this from the Future, and I really have been very patient, waiting to hear from you, which is probably why you Haven’t Called (you Bitch) do you have the long predicted Flying Cars yet? Or steak in a Pill?
And do you have those automatic, life sized, super-realistic sex mannequins that replace real Women, and say things like “Fuck me now, Big Boy, you’re the Bestest guy a Girl could EVER Have?” Or, “Oh God! Your Meat is Huge! I just love your Yooj Juicy Fandango Meatstick! You Snake! My god, You Elephant!”
Huge is pronounced “yooj”, in Nu Yawkese, when you turn on her “Accent” switch, which is located on her back, just below her ass, for easy access, for some of that Hot Brooklyn Flavor! “Oh Tony, your Meat is Yooj! I don’t know if I can take it ALL in, in my tiny little Tight Pussy, that’s just waiting for your YOOJ MEAT! Is that a Cocko SALAMI, or what?!”
If you can answer these questions, please reach me at the following email address: Jetson Hotel, 64 Bit Ram Drive, Megahertz City, Ford Galaxy Number 9, Cosmic Nebula 764 Million, dot/com/universe/Big Bang Parkway. Attention: Faint, ever so faint, Bernard. I’m just Mr. Dust in the Wind!
The post office should have no trouble finding me, because as you well know, they did eventually find Santa Claus at the North Pole. He was Frozen, and when the Global Warming came, that’s when they finally found him. It wasn’t pretty.
Wolves, bears, polar sharks, angry kids, Businessmen, corporate retailers, you get the picture… Some tattered red fluffy velvet, and a few white hairs, and a belt buckle, was about all that was left of him, although he had Neatly Filed Every Last Kid’s Gift List, in fireproof, waterproof, filing cabinets, using the John Dewey card catalog Greenwich Time Zone system.
Okay, I’m gonna go and heat up some frozen Industrial Meat Paste, you get pretty hungry floating around up here all day. And besides, I want to get in out of the solar wind, it really does dry out your skin if you don’t moisturize…
Signed,
Your little Cosmic Buddy,
Faint Bernard
As faint as a twinkly little star!
Never quite made Saint, but I'm still workin' on it...
I think I got a good chance to make Saint, cuz I never Molested anybody, except myself, during my time as a Sexual Priest, to the Women of the World!
Don't defrost me too fast! I don’t want to get Lumpy Frozen Spots!
And scrap any petroleum jelly from my face! It keeps off the Freezer Burn, but if you don’t remove it first, it’ll catch fire from the Microwave Defroster, just like those Frozen Dinner Entrees! And Burnt plastic doesn’t make good cologne.
Hey, do you guys in the future ever watch old Star Trek the Next Generation episodes?
Did the USA ever have affordable national health care? Or did the insurance companies just keep on fucking everybody till the end of time?
Let me know, because I need a doctor to look at this flipper thing that's growin' on my forehead.
Do you guys have flippers?
How long are your Dicks?
Copyright © 2010 by Bernard Drums! All rights Reserved, including my right to chop my head off, and wait for the FUTURE!
Now if I could just get a little better TV programming, I could find out if Picard, as Locutus, gets rescued from the Borg. Did you guys see that episode? Hey, if you guys turned into the Borg, you can forget about defrosting me! And you can lose my email address too!
Just press Delete! I don’t want to be a Borg Dude, with tubes and shit all in me, even though those rubber suits are pretty damn Impressive!
Squeak, squeak. Zizz-zizz! Ka-Chunk!
“I am Bernard, of Flatulus! You will Obey! Resistance is FUTILE!”
“You will be Assimilated, if you are a LEGAL AGE FEMALE! Your DELICIOUS ASS, will be THOROUGHLY STIMULATED, by my prodigious KISSES and LICKS !”
“Oh yes, Bernardy! My Resistance IS FUTILE! I won’t resist you at all! I’ll be your Little Borgy Button Dog!”
“Stimulate Me Immediately, You Big Hunky Man Machine You! I’ll Do EVERYTHING you want me to! I just love a Man in a Impressive Dominating Suit, with a Hard as Steel, oversized ELECTRIC PENIS!”
“I’ll be your Little Borgy Worgy Love Doll, FOREVER!”
“STIMULATE ME! AGAIN! AGAIN! AGAIN!”
“FASTER!”
“KEEP…”
“GOING…”
“OH! Wulla, Wulla, WULLAAAH!”
“NOW, BORG ME! BORG IT! HARDER, You Half Man, Half Dick!”
“Jam Your Swedish Jesus Smorgas Borg Penis, IN ME, ALL THE WAY! To the END of My LOVE TUNNEL!”
“DON’T STOP! YOU Hot Sex Machine!”
“I NEED IT ALL THE TIME, TILL THE END OF TIME! Becuz I AM ME! I AM WOMAN! Becuz I bring home the bacon, and slosh it around, all over me!”
“I NEVER, EVER, GET ENOUGH!”
“NOW TAKE OUT THE FUCKING GARBAGE Dear, and FIX THE FUCKING ROOF! And, WHEN YOUR DONE THAT, I’LL THINK OF SOMETHING ELSE FOR YOU TO DO, LIKE BUYING ME SOMETHING NICE! You Pussy whipped Wuss!”
“OH! And how about FUCKING ME BETTER, you lazy ass Fucker! That wasn’t quite as good, as I like it! See that you get a little more practice, and show a little more Enthusiasm! Anything worth doing, is worth doing well! I’m warning you, if you don’t fuck me in the Style I Deserve, then I’ll find someone who will!”
“And don’t give me any of that Crap about you think you’re having a Heart attack! I’m not gonna fall for that shit anymore! And you better have a Big Life Insurance Policy, Buddy, and ALL paid up, or you’re not coming near this PUSSY!”
Husband: “Yes, Dear. You’re the Boss. Whatever you say. I don’t mind. I lost my balls a long time ago. I think you put them in the Blender.”
“You see, philosophically, for a man, marriage is a lot like being a Dog. When you finally get ‘Fixed’, you’re a lot calmer. And you don’t pee on the carpet. And besides, I never could lick my own balls, anyway.”
“Overall, you get used to being treated like a dog. You even get used to leaving all your ‘Own Shit’ outside. And, after awhile, you even get used to eating shit.”
“Dogs, and husbands, the American Girl’s Pets. And a Girl’s Best Security System.
“WOOF!”
“Yes Dear!”
“And don’t forget to buy ‘He Man Dog Food’ for your male pets! With sweet, sour, and bitter Sauce to keep the meal from being to hard to swallow!”
“Buy a Big Old Bag Today!”
“That’s ‘He Man Brand Dog Food!’ Feed your Pets Right!”
“Anything, for the American Pussy, and her Style of Life! The Alpha Queen, and Royal Bitch, of Pet World!”
“WooF!”
“See, even he says, ‘That’s right Dear!’”
“Good Doggie! Now Go FETCH!”
“And bring Momma back, something Big, and Expensive!”
“Good Boy!”
“Now wag your Tail!”
“Now fuck me!”
* * *
www.CultureDrums.BlogSpot.com
Y’all come back!
I just might, have a drop or two left.
Do I look better in this flea collar, or that one?
* * *
“Miss Sodginee, may I go the bathroom, please?”
“No, you may not.”
“You have to stay in class, and learn your lesson.”
* * *
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Sir Larry, and the Bank Monster! When You Bake a Few Big Banks, You Get Cakes, That Are ALL Too Big To Fail! It's "Home Ec.101", You Chef of Fools!
Larry Summers Hates To Be Wrong, or Interrupted. A Few Giant Banks, and Guess What, Larry? They’re Still ALL TOO BIG To Fail! The Size of a Bank’s Dick, Does Matter!
Larry Goes To NPR and PBS, and Tries To Sell Us a Bottle of “Old Doc Larry’s Snake Oil Tonic, and Bank Liniment!”
When You Get the Shakes, and Start Seeing Pink Bank Monsters, Just Take a Swig of Old Doc Larry’s Friendly Bank Tonic! Guaranteed to Calm Your Fear of Monopoly!
Better Rethink “The Giant Bank Theory”, Larry! Back To the Drawing Boards for That One!
Larry Says, “Bank Size Doesn’t Matter! It Really Depends On How Well They Fuck You! And That Depends On How Intertwined They Are!”
I Don’t Know About You, But the Last Time I Fucked a Chick, We Were Pretty “Intertwined”! And In General, Chicks Probably Say, the Bigger the Dick, the More You Know You’ve Been Pricked!
Especially If They Can’t Walk for Days! Which reminds me, a Few of my Girlfriends Did Say, I Was an Excellent Lover! Aahh! [Dreamy Look, upwards, at the Sky.] Those were the Days!
[Patting my lap.] Don’t Worry, My Little Winky Dinky, We’ll Make Friends Again! We’ll Get You a Nice, New, Warm Home! And then You’ll Never Have to Be Lonely Again, in Your Little Mouse Cave!
“Peepity weep, Beep Beep!” “Your Welcome, Mr. Winky, I like you too!”
Hey, YOU, on the computer! Shut up! I’m talkin’ to my Dick! You gotta Problem with that? I gotta keep Morale up around here! If I don’t, we don’t get any work done! Be nice to Mr. Winky! He’s a lot more Productive that way! And for these Hard Economic Times, Productivity is VERY Important!
What’s Larry Summer’s Magic Wand Prescription? Take One Bank a Day, and PRAY! And Then Call Me, in the Morning.
Larry’s Bank Medicine Is , “We’ll Wind the Bad Bank Down, and Liquidate It!”
Nice and Neat like!
Okay, so I’m Thinking, WHAT If ALL the Big Banks “Come” At Once? Say, SEVERAL of Them NEED to Be “Liquidated”, All Together, Like In One “Big BANK GANG BANG?” Hmmm, Larry?
Hey! It’s not too far fetched! I Need to Be “Liquid Dated” Too, and I’m a Big Sperm Bank! Will You Buy My Cocky Assets, Take Me On a Date, and Jerk Me Off, Till My Liquid Comes Too? Splurt! Splurt! Oh, Baby, You Got that Special Bank Deposit Touch!
Biting the Big One, Several Times! Oh God, Baby! You’re “Yooj”! You’re a Monster! Just Rub It, ALL Over My Face!
HERE’S THE BIG QUESTION! Who Will Buy My Slutty, Bad Girl, Toxic Tampon Shock, Financially Diseased, Damaged Goods, Bank Pussy “Assets”, When All the Other Big Trampy Bank Pussies Are On “Fire Sale”, Too? What’s a Bad Bank Girl To Do, My Little Pooky Wooky? Hmmm, Larry? You’re Not Gonna Leave Your Wittle Banky Wanky Girl, Out Cold in the Street, are You, My Little Boogum Woogums?
[Big Pout.] I Can’t Sit On the Shelf Forever! My Beauty Assets Will Fade! No One Will Want My Stale Financial Flowers! [Foot stamp, hair toss.] I’ll Have to Settle for a Much Less Lavish Life Style, and My Big Bank Boob Jobs Will Need Another Tax Payer Bail Out! [Hands on Hips. Head cock. Eyebrow lift. Cold Stare. Translation: “No Pussy for you, if you don’t do what I want!”! It’s Dick Starve Time. Manual Self Maintenance Only!]
Will You Do the “Honorable Thing”, and “Shotgun” Marry Me to the Government, with a Big Boob Bank Bailout, When All the Other Big Bank Girls Are Knocked Up Too? Hmmm, Larry?
Bottom Line It, Larry! Just Where Does the Bank Buck, or Bank Fuck, Stop? Does the Shit Stop Here, Or Just Go On, and On, and On?
The 800 Pound Monopoly Bank Monster, Standing in the Middle of the Room, That NO ONE Is Talking About! Remember, Markets Naturally Trend Towards Monopoly! Got It?
How Can You Have “Bank Reform”, If You Don’t Deal With the Bank Monster, Standing In Your Living Room, and Living Under Your Bed?
Mommy! I Think There’s an 800 Pound, Pink, White, Elephant Gorilla, AND Monopoly Bank Monster, Under My BED! I Can Hear Him! Scritchity, Scratchity, BELCH! Mommy, Hurry, He’s Hungry! His Giant Penis Is Coming Thru the Center of My Bed! He’s Trying to FUCK ME!
I’ll Be There In a Minute, Dear! I Have to Take a Swig of Larry’s 100 Proof, Bank Tonic, To Calm My Fear!
On Second Thought, Maybe a Couple of Swigs! What the Fuck, How About the Whole Bottle! This Shit’s GOOD!
Hey There, Pink Elephant, Gorilla, Monster Bank Boy, You’re Kinda Cute! Whoa, Big Boy, Don’t Try and Fuck Me Just Yet, I’m a Good Girl! Give a Girl a Chance To Decide, If She Wants To Be Fucked, or Not! Let Me Kinda Ease Into It, If You Know What I Mean! I’ve Got My Morals, Ya Know!
Let Me Add All This Up Here! Where’s My Calculator? How Much Money Did You Say You Have? WOW! I Ain’t Sayin’ No, But I Ain’t Sayin’ Yes, Yet!
A Girl’s Gotta Be Careful, Ya Know, Sometimes Monogamy, Is Just a One Sided Bitch, of a Bad Ass Monopoly! And You Can Take That To the Bank, Sonny Boy!
Hiccup! Excuse Me! Say, You Got a Light? It’s Kinda Dark in Here! You’re So Fucking Big, You’re Kinda Blockin’ Out the Light!
No? Whatever, Bub, It’s Your Nickel!
What’s the Bottom Line, On Too Big To Fail, Ya Ass Crack? What’s the Dump, On Too Big, for One Liquidation Pail?
Here It Comes! I’m Squishing It Out! Pinching Off a Big Loaner of a Loaf!
Ta Da! Here’s the Big Stinking Pile Of Shit Nobodies Talking About! Oh, Get a Whiff! How Can I Describe It! I’ll Try! Here Goes!
SEVERAL Big Banks Could FAIL AT ONCE! How do you like that shit? Huh, Loaf Cakes? Wake Up, and smell the shit!
Impossible! Our Titanic “Luxury Liner Financial Machine” Was Built Not To Sink! We have the Best Captains, Wall Street can Buy!
It will NEVER HAPPEN! The Sun Will NEVER Set on the British Empire, or on our Amazing Financial Empire! [Point rigid Finger at Sky, and Shake It, with Conviction.]
The idea of Several Big Banks FAILING AT ONCE is Preposterous! PURE BALDERDASH! HUMBUG, I SAY! SKULLDUGGERY, of the WILDEST SORT!
OH?
Try this on for size.
Several Big Bank Failures at Once, Would Overwhelm the Nice, Neat and Clean, THEORETICAL, “Wind Down Liquidation System!” Still Requiring a Government Bail Out!
Damn! I Thought We Had That One Solved! Easy as 1, 2, 3! Just add Milk, One Egg, and Stir! Yummy, Fluffy, Moist, Bank Liquidation Pie, in a Jiffy!
Almost as Sweet as Real Pussy Pie, Smooth or Hairy! In a Lickitty Split! And Oh Baby, I would love to Lick your Split! Hmmm! Juicy, mildly Vanilla, with a little Banana, and both sweet and salty! Not Bad!
How did that go again?
Several Big Banks, Failing All at Once, Bringing Down the Entire System!
Huh! Never Thought of That!
Who da Thunk It?
Not I, said the Big, Fat Cat, Banker Man! Not I, said the Big Pinstriped Pollytishun! Not I, said the Captain of the Titanic!
“Thar She Blows”, said Captain Ahab Loanman, of the Big White Whaling ship, the “Mo’ Be Pricks!”
“It’s the Big Right White himself! The Whale Street, Moby Bank Dick!”
“My God, me Buckos! He’s Yooj! It’s the Monster Sized, Sperm Whale, Whale Street Dick!”
“We’ll Never Survive, Captain!”
“Don’t Get the Shivers, in Your Cock Timbers, Me Boys! Stiffen Up your Mainsail, and hold hard to your wheel!”
“The Wind is Blowin’ the Wrong Way, Captain! He’s gonna Come in all our Faces!”
“Grab your Harpoons, My Brave Mates, and Throw them Directly at His Giant Financial Penis! Don’t let Him Jerk You Off, when he gets in Close, and Tight!”
“Careful now, Lads, if He Ejaculates His Wad of Money all Over you, Your Asshole will never be right!”
“Aye, Captain! Watch Out! It’s the Big Right White, all right! Don’t let him Eat You, with his Greedy Big Appetite!”
* * *
Now, that’s what I call Prose, and Poemetry, combinated into One Fusional Discourse, or what I will now coin as, “Proesettry!”
I obviously have a very severe case, of Poetitus, and Prosetometry.
Beat them pineapples, White boy!
* * *
Wait, There’s More! The “BankMaster X-9000” Slices, Dices, Chops Off Your Balls, and Leaves Them On the Floor!
When Is My Next, “Big, Fat, Greasy Banker Wedding?”
What’s a Banker to Live For? A Bigger, Thicker, Bonis? A Sexier, Dick Sucking Wife? A Lincoln Town Car? A Thicker Pastrami Samich, With All the Fixin’s?
PLUS, as an Added Bonus, the Big Banks Will Still Behave Like a Harmful Monopoly BEFORE They Fail, By Not Competing in the Home Market, Which Will Harm American Consumers (that’s You and Me!), and Destroy the Fair Market we expect (that’s Mom, Apple Pie, and the American Flag!).
So, just How Will You Marry My Trashy Bank Assets, To a Suitable Suitor, Mr. Bank Liquidator Wind Down Man, If All the Big Banks are Intertwined, and “Inter of Course” Infected?
What Do You Do, When They Are All Intertwined, With Promiscuous, Pus Filled, Infected Investments? And They All Have AIDS, “Acquired Investment Deficiency Syndrome”, the Morals of a Slut, and a Venerable Financial Disease, such as Stiff-ill-us, or Helpees Type 4, or Gone-o-Mia!
AND they Could All Be On a Government AIDS Cocktail for the Rest of Their Life, Plus, Carrying Another Man’s Tax Payer Bail Out Baby?
QUESTION! How Can You Liquidate Them All, If They Are All Sick? If They Are ALL Intertwined? And What If the Sick Banks Are an Amazingly Huge, that’s right, “Yooj”, Percentage of the National Economy?
That spells Trouble! Right Here in the River of Derivative City ! And that’s “Trouble”, I say, spelled with a Capital “T”! [Remove straw hat, and start singing and dancing.]
Answer Me That, Mr. Quick on the Draw, Banker Man!
Mirror, Mirror on the wall, who’s the Fakest Banker, of them all?
I Say, Faint Bernard Says, “They All is! Size Does Matter, in this Coin of the Realm Sized Case!”
I Can See the Government Bailout Wedding of the Future now, in My Little Crystal Balls!
And the Bank Whores of Gotham say, “You’re SO Sweet, Larry, to let the Taxpayers Marry me again in the Future! I Can Hear the Wedding Bells NOW!”
And the Band, Played on!
A wee little tune called “Moral Hazard”!
By Merrill O‘Lynch, and the Misbegotten Hazards of Yore!
Fie, fie, fiddle dee dee!
Aye, that’s a sweet bit of wedding cake, my little darlin’!
You’re a sexy little whore, aren’t ya?
I’d love to lie between YOUR thighs!
And kiss that Sweet Pussy of yours!
L’chaim, and Goidelic, and Sodom and Gomorrah Galore!
Let’s Hope the Luck of the Irish, is all yours!
Here’s to the Future, of the Big Banks!
And may all the Victims, be you, and yours!
(Now, that’s Poetry! Damn! That’s what I call a real French Poimelette! Dat iz tick and rich, like a chewy and juicy schtick, of Shake Spear Mint gum! With Double Bubbles, of Mid Summers Delight filled Night Dreams! It’s a Eau de Miracle de Toilette! It’s an Epic, of Poetree tismals! More than worthy of Selectamint, in the thick and Weighty Tomes, of Serious Poeddicks!)
(I don’t know, Man, I don’t think it’s Confusing Enough. Usually, the more confusing a Poyim is, the Better it is! That’s what I think! How about You?)
The Humble Shoe
The Shoe Walks.
It never Sleeps.
It sees Everything,
but it never Peeps!
The Shoe,
is Wise.
It never lets us know,
its knowledge,
is in disguise.
Honor the Shoe.
For it Speaks,
even tho we know Not,
what It Sayeth.
Bow Down, before the Shoe!
And Tie it.
Or slip it on.
Whatever!
Just put it on,
and walk a mile in it.
You’ll be Surprised,
what it may tell you.
You may Weep,
And be Unable,
to Speak.
Or you might Dance,
with Joy,
until the floor Squeaks.
Wear the Shoe.
It’s up to you!
Learn what you can.
The dance of life,
is quickly over,
and done,
and may seem,
impetuously,
all too sudden.
Lead by example.
One step,
in front,
of your sister,
and brother.
Even if you Stumble,
slowly, put another shoe,
in front of another,
just like,
a protective Mother.
Carry on,
with Love,
as your main example.
Love,
is what we are all,
searching for.
It can help,
when other things,
are far less than ample.
Above all,
wear the Shoe!
They Protect your Feet!
And they soften the blow,
of Life’s inevitable,
Defeets.
And they help you keep Marching,
To Life’s,
strange and often funky,
Beat.
So when your down and dirty,
and don’t know where to go,
put on your shoes,
and a walking,
we will go.
Life is like that.
You may not know for sure,
where you are going,
but you go.
Signed,
El Faint Bernardo! The Royal Poet to Mars!
* * *
(the first quarter of this epic poim was composed, 4:34 pm to 4:38 pm, plus or minus a few, and finished at 5:27 pm, April 28, 2010 by zee Great Bernardo Slambini! Zee 53 minuto el Pomo! Truly a Masterbeast, of Mega fizzical Poetimidree!)
And…
* * *
Ode, To the Leaf!
The Crinkled Leaves,
of Summers Full Gourd,
lie on the ground,
mere shriveled Servants,
of Winter’s New Lord!
And now their only Purpose?
To Serve Our Future Room and Board!
Loved,
only the way a Mother could Love,
and for Mother Nature to devour,
and Hoard.
Ode, to the Leaf!
It’s Life, is So Brief!
I Love You,
My Lord, and Leaf!
You make me So Happy (sappy?),
I could SQUEAK!
If Only the Trees,
weren’t so Bleak!
(This Poimlet was composatated, from 12:30 pm to 12:34 pm EST, April 27, 2010. By Faint Bernardo, the Magnifico! Perform in an “Iron Jay” Leno, Brooklyn Boxer Voice, or in a thick, Shakespeare stage actor voice, with English accent.)
That Walt Whitman guy better watch out! Him and his “Leaves of Grass”! My ass! Wait till they get a load of my “Ode to the Leaf”! Stockholm, here I come! Ka-Pow! Take that, Poetman!
* * *
Larry’s Bank Logic Sucks! And the Bank Monster? He’s Still Under Your Bed! HELP, Mommy! There’s a Bank Monster, Under My Bed!
Larry’s Big Reason for allowing a few Giant Banks? We Need them to Compete Against Europe and Asia! But That’s Part of the Problem!
When They’re THAT BIG, then they DON’T COMPETE at Home! They Become an Oligopoly of Three, times 2 = the Monopoly Gang of Six! They Become a cunt hair shy of a MONOPOLY! A Cartel! Think OPEC, the Detroit Three (GM, Ford, Chrysler, back in the high cotton days), or Coors, Miller, and Bud.
And Guess what My Friends? Monopoly Style Behavior is BAAADD! Monopoly is a NO-NO! Monopoly is the DEATH of FREE Markets, and the DEATH of COMPETITION!
I’ll even go so far as to say, “Monopoly is the Death of the Freedom giving Benefits of Capitalism”, and that, YES, Monopoly Style Capitalism is “The ROAD To SERFDOM”!
BAM! Eat that, Conservative White Boy! A Nice big Hole, in the Hull, of the U.S.S. Ayn Rand. Thar she goes! Blub, blub, down to the Bottom! Who gives a shrug!
I’ll even go one final step, and say, in my Best Charles Heston, with My Musket M-16 Pen held high over my Head, “Monopoly Style Capitalism, is the Road to the Death of Freedom! If You try to take away My Competition, and my GOP Killer, Teflon Bullet Ink, you will have to pry it from my cold, dead, pistol packin’ Pen Hand! Give me Competition, or Give Me Death! I have not yet begun to Write! I shall Return!”
* * *
The Vision Thing. Hold Her Still, Paw, So I Can Get a Bead On Her!
Monopoly is to be avoided like the Plague. (Bill Gates take note. To be Chiseled on Gate’s Tombstone, “I’m sorry I was a MONOPOLIST. I won’t do it Again. I Promise! God, It’s Hot Down Here!”)
Only when there are valid enough similarities to Early Inventions, like the early turn of the century Telephone System, or the Public Electric Power Grids, or Public Water Systems, should Monopoly be Tolerated and Allowed, and Strongly Regulated and Controlled. Got it?
So, my Free Marketeers, what’s the Lesson for Today?
Monopoly? BAADD! Shouldn’t go there! Not Prudent! Read my lips! No New Monopolies!
BAAAD, I tell ya! BAADD! Vision Thing ALL Cloudy! Barb won’t like it! Won’t STAND!
Not gonna do it! We need a kinder, Gentler Banker nation! A New World Money Order! A New Cash Coalition of the willing, not the Forced!
If only my sons Jeb, and Reb, and the Bushmeister, had been as smart as Barb, and me! Karl R., the Bush Brain, you’re the Son I should have had, ya little freakin’ Pillsbury Doughboy!
A One Horse Liniment Town! Dang Boy, Jus Whut Iz a “Mono-Poly”? Is it Kinda Like, a One Legged PONY? One Legged Pony for Sale! Hops Real Good, Just Don’t Ride It!
A “Home Market Monopoly” Does NOT CREATE Competition, in a Home Market! Remember that! No, MEMORIZE IT! Ya Hayseed BROOKLYN BUMPKIN BOY!
Is this what the so called “free” Marketeers want now? A nationwide, non-competitive, “free (wink wink) market” MONOPOLY?
A home market monopoly, where the risk is “Nationalized” with Taxpayer Bank Bailout Guarantees, so we can then Compete GLOBALLY? Where the People get all the downside risk, and the Banks get all the upside profit? Where we Privatize the Profit, and Socialize the Risk?
Because if that’s the Case, then what we will be doing is Taking Away our Market Freedoms at home, so we can FUCK the other guy Abroad, which will make our Corporations even more Powerful, so they can turn around and FUCK US even Better at HOME. WOW! Talk about STEPPING On Your OWN DICK, trying to run the race faster!
“Gee, Coach, I was nearin the finish line, when my DICK sprang out of my shorts, and I got all Tangled up in it, and then I STEPPED On It, and fell flat on face, and ended up with my DICK in my Mouth, and I ain’t even GAY!”
Why don’t we just all lay our dicks under the Corporate Jackboots right now, so they can grind them up, for a bigger Next Month Profit? “DickDogs”, the new Wall Street Hot dog!
“Step right up, and on it! Get yer Hot DickDogs heeyah! A real New Yawk Mouthful! With mustahd, and relish, and all the fixin’s! Nothin like chewin your own cock off, to make a Profit! A guy has to make a livin’ Somehow! It might as well be chewin’ on a Cock! DickDogs, the New Yawk way, to make a livin’!”
Is it down to, “we’ll put up with the Negative Effects of a BANK MONOPOLY at home, so we can stand up to the Competition Abroad?” Is that it? Cuz if it is, you can CHOP OFF MY Super DICK, right NOW! I don’t want to live in a World like that! You right wing, Republifuck, Dickmaster WeenerBoy!
WARNING! A “lack of competition”, is what you get, when you have a MONOPOLY! It is Definitely NOT Good for Markets, or Consumers, and it’s Certainly NOT the American “Free Market” Way!
Got that, Conservative Pinstripe White BOY? Now eat your Pastrami Samich. And wipe that Mayonnaise Come, off your fat Brooklyn Lips!
I Still Don’t Unnerstan Why a Mono, Mojo, Poly, Phoney, Pony Iz BAD! Can You Xplain It To Me Again, Paw?
Jus How the Hell Do You Pernunsillate that Damn WERD? Yeah, That’s It! Wird Rhymes with Bird! By George, I Think He’s Got It!
The Cash Rain in Spain, Stays Mainly, in the Monopoly Plain! I Think She’s Got It!
What is a Monopoly? I’ll make it real simple for you, just the way Republicans like it.
Real simple, so that blue collar, backwoods, frightened, Angry Simpletons, who have had their Nuts Squeezed Off by Giant Corporations, can understand it.
The Vast number of bumpkins “out there”, blame the Government for their Troubles, becuz they can’t see “Behind the Wizard of Oz Curtain” (the “Corporate Veil”) and see that it is the Corporations who have chopped off our NUTS, stolen our Democracy Balls, and sliced off our Democracy Dicks. Holy Crap, it’s all GONE!
Who are the American Bumpkins? Think Anti-Government Tea Party Townfolk, with pitchforks and Torches, chasing Frankenstein through the Woods.
With Sarah “Barbie” Palin, leading the Mob, yelling “Frankenstein RAPED Me, with His Big Throbbing, Monster Government, Electrode PENIS!”
Now do you get the Bigger Picture? It’s not Big Government that has FUCKED Us ALL, it’s BIG Corporations that have RAPED US, and Used the Lobbyist Controlled Government to do it for them! But they tell us “it was the Government that did it”, NOT the Lobbyists, who are working FOR the Corporations!
Still not clear?
Let me explain this, like you are a 4 year old.
The Government is the Puppet.
The Corporations, and their Lobbyists, are the PUPPET MASTERS!
And You My Friend, are The Audience!
And after awhile, you become a Puppet too, controlled by the Corporations! All strung up by the Corporate Strings!
Good boy! Now you’re Catching On!
No? Okay, one more time! The Corporations used their Money and their Lobbyists, to HI-JACK our government, to Control our Senators and Congressmen, and then rewrite the American Money Game in Favor of the Corporations, and then fooled you, into Blaming it all on the Government!
It’s called “Washington Puppet Theater!” A Hollywood, Detective Mystery, Who Done It, Crime Thriller, Monster Horror Film! But in Real Life, and on your Home Stage!
You, being the Brilliant Motherfucker that you are, then blame it on the Government, which THEN makes it even EASIER, for Corporations to Keep on FUCKING YOU!
How do you like them Apples, Old Blind White Boy? Hmmm? You just woke up, to discover, you’re not only Blaming the Wrong Woman, you’re FUCKING YOUR OWN MOTHER! AAAAAHHHHHH! Damn! I shot the wrong Gal!
You think it was BIG Government that Raped your Daughter, but NO, it was the Sly Corporate FOXES that Humped her! You’re pointing your Shotgun in the WRONG Direction, my Friend! You’re blaming, and hanging, the wrong guy, from the Lynch Mob Tree! What a dumb bunny you are!
What’s a Cartel? Is That Like a “Car Phone?”
You see, Big Corporations, whether they are a Cartel (several companies), an Oligopoly (3 or more companies), a Duopoly (2 companies), or a MONOPOLY (1 company), they STOP Competing, and START figuring out SUBTLE, hidden ways to FUCK YOU.
Now, they don’t come out and say, “We’re maximizing our Profit, and doing it in Subtle ways that fuck you!” Of course Not! The name of the game is to keep you, Little Red Riding Hood, in the dark and clueless, while the Corporate Wolf, wearing Government clothing, EATS YOU!
Corporate Monopoly, and its slightly milder version, the Multiple Member Cartel, is really a Bully, a Thug, a Dictator, and a Wolf, in the Supposedly “Free Market” marketplace! A monopoly becomes “The Only Game in Town”! Or, it’s “My Way, or the Highway”! Or, “Take it, or leave it!” Or, “I’m gonna fuck you, Consumer Boy, whether you like it or not.”
Businessmen even have a word for it. It’s called “Pricing Power”. How Sweet! Sort of like a Rapist saying he has, “Loving Power”. “I’m just giving you what you want, Baby! And you’re gonna like it! Tell me you like it, BITCH! Now, Suck on my Corporate COCK! And tell me you Love It! That’s a Good Girl!”
Put On Your Party Face! Let’s PARTY! Bank Monster Likes to Dance!
And if it’s Several companies, then they all do the SAME THING. They don’t have to TALK together to plan how to Fuck you, they just WATCH what the Other Company Does, and do it Too! GET IT?
Pretty soon, there’s No More “Happy Face, Boy Scout, Mom, Apple Pie” American free market COMPETITION!” Why?
Becuz the Business Game becomes a Corporate Group Team Effort, with a Common Goal of Maximizing Everybody’s Company Profits, by avoiding Price Wars, AND Avoiding Competition, becuz they LOSE MONEY when they really Compete, or have a Price War! Got it, Bumpkin Breath?
It becomes a bunch of Tribal War Lords, agreeing to Cooperate, in a GANG BANG Effort, and Divide up the Territory! Like Gangsters, wanting to Avoid a Gang War! Catching on?
So they all Cooperate to Avoid Competing, and to Avoid Price Wars, and then they all “Male Bond” together, in a Group Rape of You, the hapless citizen and consumer fool!
All done very politely, of course, with lots of warm and fuzzy PR. And since you are the consumer, and the worker, guess who gets Fucked twice, by the Big Chopper Gang, Corporate Rapist War Lords? YOU DO!
Oh what the Hell, it’s inevitable, you might as well just Relax and enjoy it, like a good little Rape Victim!
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and the Wolfman, Are Out To Make You, Go For a Ride!
Poor Misunderstood Bank Monster! He’s Really Very Nice!
You see, the Nice Mr. Market, the civilized Dr. Jekyll, starts out all nice and Civilized, in THEORY, but really ends up being, in Reality, “LOST”, on an island, with Mr. Hyde the Wolfman, and Bank Monster, and now the story is “The Corporate Lord of the Flies”. And Little Piggy, the Innocent One, gets bashed on the rocks, and his head stuck on a stick.
All papered over with warm and fuzzy TV commercial Messages, of course!
“We Fuck You Better, Here at SwingDick Smegma Bank!” “You’re in Good Hands, at Dickster Bendover Finance!” “You’ll Love How We Do You, at Fuckstar Megadick!” “Fuckstar is Your Future!”
“You’re Number One, at American Anal Lube and Loan!” “You are the Future at SoftRape, a subsidiary of InSoft!” “We Care About You, at Universal Rectal Ream and Squirt Bond!” “We have more MBAs (Master Bastard Assholes) at Fucktron, than any other Company!”
“For a Gentle financial Fuck, Try MicroReam by MiniRape!” “You’ll Never Get Raped Any Gentler, at SoftBang!” “Open Wide, It’s Our Job, to Get Inside! Trust ReamOut!” “InSquirt, the new Temporary Permanent Opportunity!” “You’ll Always Go Far, at Fuckstar!” “Fuckstar, We Do You Best!”
Question For Goldilocks, and Little Red Riding Rabbit! Just What Does a Monopoly Become? The Bank Monster Between Your Sheets, Humping You, Till You’re DEAD!
It becomes, “What’s GOOD FOR THE CORPORATIONS, is now gonna be GOOD for the Little People, whether you like it or not!” Oh, but you’re not a “Little People”? Yeah, right! Everything you “OWN” Boy, is “ON LOAN”! Think about that, Mister Minimum Payment, Credit card, Month to month, Mortgage Boy!
Oh, so you think you’ll just buy from another company? Guess what, Mushmouth, the other company has the same fucked up deal, for the SAME PRICE! Didn’t think of that, did you, Monopoly Cartel, Carwash Boy!
In my VERY BEST Edward G. Robinson Voice: “You Dirty Rat! How do you like your Free Market Messiah NOW, Moses? You forgot the Eleventh Commandment, of the Monopoly Market! Thou Shalt Be Screwed, Whether Thou Wants It, Or NOT!”
Plus, as an added side Benefit, we’re also gonna FOOL you, and make you think the Government did it, when it was really the Corporate Lobbyists that did it. It’s called “The Corporate Magic Hour!”, or, “Hey Kids! Its time for ‘Fool the Bumpkin’, the Washington Game Show!”.
And you like it that way, dontcha, Mister Conservative Boy? It let’s you FUCK the People Better, when you’re clawing your way Up, to get Rich as fast as possible! With no rules and regulations, and a monopoly, you’re the only one sticking your dick up the people, and reaming out their assholes.
Monopoly Marriage, Bonded as One, in a Holy Hell of Bastard Matrimony. The Beauty and the Bank Beast!
Chicks like that, when they think you’re the Only One Fucking them. It makes them feel emotionally, and financially Bonded. Makes them feel So Secure, and SO SPECIAL!
And then, in your Big, Generous, Corporate Way, you can fuck her, and Everybody else, and feel like you’re doing Everybody, a Wonderful Societal Monopoly Service!
See, monopoly isn’t bad after all! It’s a Good Thing!
Knock knock! Hellooo! Am I getting thru to that Squirrelly little head of your’s?
Now do you understand why Republicans don’t want a Consumer Protection Agency?
Becuz it gets in the way of Businessmen FUCKING YOU!
What’s the Point, Dude? I Still Don’t Get the Point! This Is WAY Too Confusing! How Can a Bank Monster, Be Under My Bed?
CONCLUSION! You Can’t have these Super Huge, Giant Banks, and then Pretend it’s a Competitive Home Market, with Actual Real live Competition! No Way Pinocchio! You can’t say “a Home Market Bank Monopoly” is Competitive, in it’s home market!
What is it? It’s an “Unspoken Cartel, Bank Monopoly”, with NO Competition! Got it?
Or, it’s an “Unspoken Collusion, Double Oligopoly, Monopoly Contagion, with Mocha Latte.” With a Double Bubble Dick Spritz on top, for extra Zesty Flavor!
And then, My Friend, the Big Boa Constrictor Banks, become Entwined, just like before! Like Big Satanic SNAKES, HISSING, Kissing, and having Snake Sex. And then, once again, they become TOO Big To Fail.
Permanent Bail Out Condition! RED ALERT! Prepare for Nuclear Missile Strike! Can’t Leave Your Bed! Bank Monster Will Grab Your Feet!
And then you have to SAVE all the Pregnant Snakes, all over again, mister Conservative “free” market man! Oh Yeah Baby! Put that Big Sex Snake, ALL the Way up my Virgin Market Vagina! You SNAKE, you! Now wiggle your little hissy snakey Tongue! Hiiissss! Momma likey!
Now, what part of that don’t you want to admit too, mister Larry “Endless Surf Boy” Summers?
Is that your Deal with the Banks? You’ll trade size restrictions on the banks, in exchange for the banks agreeing to regulations that we had before, regulations that the Republicans repealed, and threw away in the last 30 years?
Where’s Black Batman? What Happened to Superman? Where’s Lois Lane, and Clark Kent?
Where has the Justice Department disappeared to, on this Issue of Corporate Monopoly in America? Where’s Barack, the Black Knight in Shining Armor All? Or is Everybody “pimped out”, with Spinner Wheels on?
Larry, you little Brooklyn fucker, you like to Sidestep around Issues, when you are interviewed. You’re a Good little Side Stepper! You think you’re pretty slick.
You may fool the others who can’t understand this econ shit, but you can’t fool me, cuz I understand it. Try and Side Step around Me. I understand the Subject Matter, and I think I understand your Current Game Goals. You may be able to snow the average idiot back in Brooklyn, but not me. That would be making, as they say back in Brooklyn, a “Yooj” mistake.
The BIG QUESTION Remains: How can you have “Bank Reform”, if you allow Banks to grow to Monopoly Size?
Answer me that, Bird Brain.
If you’re too big too fail, you ARE too big, and you are now in, The Wonderful Land, of “Monopoly World”. Where objects, and People don’t behave Normally. Quantum Bank Mechanics, and Quantum Monopoly Physics takes over, and you are now in the strange New World of String Theory, where you, and the rest of your buddies, are just Puppets on a Corporate String!
* * *
And Now for Something Completely Different! Bank Tricks!
Merlin, the Magic Bank Monster! The Magic Mellon Boy, With His Dexterous Finger Dick Tricks! Distract ’em With One Hand, Fool ‘em With the Other!
It’s Bank Magic! It’s the Great Mellon Master, the Great Bank Houdini, and the W. C. Fields “Bank Dick”, All Rolled Into One!
P.S. Regarding the extra dude, the bankster from BNY Mellon, interviewed on PBS Newshour, the same nite as Larry Summers (week of April 18th, 2010). He “side steps” issues too. But his little secret is, he dazzles you with his Finger and Hand Movements, his “Hypnotizing Magic Fingers”. Like a Magician Distracting you for a trick. While you intently and naturally watch his left hand, he completes the Trick with his subtle, unseen, right hand! Only this time, it’s a Verbal Trick!
As he talks, after a while, you start watching his hands, like watching a Snake Charmer charm a snake, and then you start to forget what he’s saying, which I think is part of his plan!
It’s also a way for him to subtly Psychologically Manipulate You (the Better to Eat you with, My Dear) by getting you “in sync”, mesmerized and in agreement with his hand motions, and then, you are more open to his Message! It’s The Famous Doctor Mesmer, Mesmerizing you with his Bank Dick Magic!
It’s SPOOKY! And then, Abra Cadabra! Poof! The Truth is Gone! And Little Red Riding Hood, that’s you, gets sucked inside the Big Bad Bank Wolf!
After a awhile you have to put your whole arm across the bottom of the TV, to block out his Magic Finger Tricks, and then you realize his message isn’t so FUN anymore.
Both of these guys, Larry and the Mellon Man, had to have sold Used Cars, real junkers, at some point in their lives!
Yep! This little Baby’ll getcha where ya need to go! Trust me! Only driven to Church by a little old lady, on Sundays! What? Oh, don’t worry about that! That’s supposed to fall off! That’s not important at all!
After awhile, you realize that for these guys to get to where they got to, they had to have paid a Price they were more than willing to pay. The Question is, how much does that Price they willingly paid, continue to fuck up ALL the Words, that come out of their mealy little mouths, for the Rest of their little Weasel Lives?
It’s like listening to Gorged Swill, and the other Sold Out Pundidiots.
How much can you Trust ANYTHING really, that dribbles, spouts, spews, foams or Vomits, out of their compromised ASSDICKMOUTHS?
We’ll never know The Faustian Terms, of “The Deal” they made, to get in, or on, “The Show”.
Only the Shadows, in their Damaged Souls, Know!
And God.
And you can probably take that,
to the Bank.
Signed,
Your Trusted Observer,
Old Paint, the One Legged Horse Dick!
And,
Faint Bernard,
The fastest,
one eyed,
master baiting,
Quick on the Paw,
Bun slinger,
in what’s left,
of the Old, Free West!
Damn, that’s good Poemetry! Right up there with Lord By-Ron, the RapMaster. Push that Beat button on the Cascio keyboard, I Feels like “composing” me, a Brilly-Ant, pre-programmed, Rapatation! With True Poetic Repetition!
Copyright © 2010 by Bernard Drums! All rights, tonics, and sour mash bourbon whiskey liniments, Reserved.
Next on the list? Why Monsanto is another example of the Negative Effects of Monopoly! And why eating industrialized, chemically impregnated, or genetically modified food, just might make your dick, or clitoris, FALL OFF, into your Soup!
* * *
Waking Up, in the Wrong Future!
You know, I’ve been really feeling like the second “Back to the Future” sequel, for a long time now, where The Kid wakes up and discovers the future is all wrong, and Biff is in Control, and everything about life has gone horribly wrong.
That’s the feeling I’m getting, that the future has arrived, and it’s The WRONG FUTURE!
I’ve been feeling this way for quite sometime now. For example, I haven’t had a decent, sweet, ripe, good tasting cup of frozen, or canned corn, in about 10 years. And I Love corn. Give me a bowl of corn, with some butter and salt, and I’m a Happy Camper. But I don’t buy frozen or canned corn at all anymore.
It just doesn’t taste good anymore. In fact, it doesn’t have ANY Taste at all. It looks yellow on the outside, but inside it has this white plastic cooler foam color and consistency, and tastes like I’m munching on white plastic packing peanuts.
I thought it was the weather, and the corn just didn’t have a chance to get ripe. But now I’m not so sure. Is this that new Genetically Modified Corn, I keep hearing about, or what? Cuz if it is, the days of good tasting corn are over.
Just one more food they’ve managed to Destroy, in order to Sell it. Shades of Viet Nam, “We had to Destroy the Village, in order to Save it.” Now it’s, “We had to Destroy the Food, in order to Sell it, or Package it.”
And I haven’t had juicy, sweet, good tasting, fresh chicken from the supermarket, in about 20 years. If you buy “fresh” chicken, the bones are often all weird, and black and red, and gray and discolored. They should be all white, or a very light yellowy white.
I don’t buy “Fresh” chicken anymore. There’s no “Taste Reward” to eating it.
I heard that Chicken Lobbyists (during the Reagan and Bush #41 greedy Republican era) rewrote the law and “redefined” Fresh, moving the Goal Post so to speak, so that 32 degrees Fahrenheit (the Temperature water freezes) was no longer considered Frozen, but would now be considered “Fresh”, and 0 degrees was now the New Frozen, so they could ship the Chicken over longer distances, and still call it fresh.
Meanwhile, the chicken parts must hover at 32, thawing and refreezing, over and over, in the truck, and on the shelf, and that’s why the bones are discolored, and all the flavor has mushed out of the meat.
Yep! “Had to Destroy the Chicken”, in order to ship it, store it, and still call it “Fresh”. And the Businessman thinks he’s doing you a Favor!
So to solve this New Problem, that the chicken producers themselves Created, people now buy expensive Boneless chicken, and pore gobs of marinade sauce over it, to put the natural sweet flavor back in it, that multiple freeze thaw cycles took out. And the lowly dollar a pound chicken, the FDR chicken that “used to be in everybody’s pot”, now becomes the highly profitable, “Value Added”, Reaganite Republican, 4 dollar a pound, Chicken “tenderloin fillet of steak”.
Got your ears on, Mr. Fucked Up Frank Perdue, and Mr. Tyson, too?
You’re both going to Chicken Hell.
Thanks for fucking up MY CHICKEN, that I don’t buy any more, because it tastes too FUCKED UP!
Now, when you both get to Chicken Hell, there’s No use flapping your wings.
Because both of you, my friend, are gonna BATTER FRY! YEP! As in KFC. Probably the only place left where you can still get good chicken. And both of you guys, are going in a big bucket, where you will be, K-FUCKED!
And Let’s Not Forget! There’s the “MUSIC” Industry! With Industrialized, Manufactured, Defective Music Chickens, and Genetically Modified Corn Tunes! And Old Yowler, the Lead Dog Singer! Christ, Does Any One Tune Up, Any More, These Days?
Sawing My Leg Off, With a Rusty Pen Knife, to Escape the “Music” Noise! No Wonder Music Industry Sales Are Down, They’re Selling CRAP!
And the kids these days? They’re making the Woodstock Baby Boomers look like Geniuses.
How so? Well, Good Black Music disappeared around 1990, after a hundred years of Brilliant Black Musical Creativity. All Gone Now! Poof!
And White Rock? Same thing.
Pretty much “Anything after 1990”,where Poster Boy Curt Cobain, sang like he was in Great Pain, by sitting on a Toilet, and “singing” flat, and out of key, and sounding exactly like he was Extremely Constipated, and desperately trying to take a Dump, of solid Concrete, that was impacted in his ass.
While the band played on, and on, and on, in a sour, flat, drop key DRONE, while Curt howled and screamed in Pain, like a wounded Dog, like a German Shepherd that had been shot by a Nazi Schmeiser machine gun, or had caught his paw in a sharp, steel tooth, Bear Trap, and while dying in the cold snow, he tries to CHEW his own leg off, and all the while with a cinder block sized chunk of shit stuck up his ASS, that no amount of Stool Softener could solve.
No wonder he killed himself, he couldn’t stand the sound of his own voice.
That, my friends, is what I think of Curt Cobain’s “Singing Voice”.
White Boy Rock after 1990 is pretty freakin’ Pathetic. Like Loserville.
(Except a few Creed tunes, when he manages to sing approximately in tune.)
And what’s really sad, is they all think they’re such hot shit.
Which just shows the Power of the Ego, and the Blind Desire to play, at all costs.
Hey Guitar Center! Ya got any Instant Rockstar Kits? With an inflatable black rubber suit, with zippers, buckles and straps? And a Green Arm, tattoo decal sheet? Jar of hair gel? Handbook on “How To Sing Out of Tune?” 49.95 on sale? I’ll take two!
Late night talk shows, here I come!
It All Depends On Just What the Hell You Were Exposed To, Or Not Exposed To.
“Kids Today” wouldn’t know what musical warmth was even if they fell in the Sun.
They wouldn’t know how to sing in key, even if a tuning fork was jammed up their butt.
And they wouldn’t know how to write a full structured song that wasn’t just a never ending, aimless “intro”, even if somebody locked’em in a room, built a brick wall around ‘em, and wouldn‘t let ‘em out, until the Deed was done.
The kids today grew up with Attention Deficit disorder, getting a “Gold Self Esteem Star” just for showing up, and listening to weird, discordant, jangly, out of key, TV commercial jingles, designed to interrupt your trip to the bathroom. This is what you get when you raise an entire generation on cold, coitus interruptus, out of key, jingly jangly, screaming, Sour, Wounded, Shot Dog “music”.
You get what you pays for.
“Classic” Rock from 1990 to 2010? What Classic Rock?
I can’t wait to hear what the Radio is gonna sound like, when they start playing the “Classics” from 1990 to 2010. Just shoot me, like a wounded dog, becuz I don’t wanna be around, when that happens. Just chuck the radio out of the car window, at 60 miles an hour, and don’t look back.
I might as well just stick my head in a Cement Grinder, or a Boeing 747 Jumbo Jet Engine at Full throttle, or a Kitchen Blender on Pulse and High, and record that.
And then, with the recorder still going, Beat your Dog, Poor Fido, with a stick, while the neighbor’s wife runs around screaming bloody murder, like a serial killer is chasing her.
Record ALL THAT, mixed of course by a DEAF “sound engineer”, recently arrived from the Sears School of Carpet Shampooing, and then put some “Pouty Troubled Guys” on the cover, with unwashed, uncombed dirty hair, with lots of Atty Tude, and torn jeans, and weird “I’m Sensitive, I can’t stand up” poses, or macho tough guy poses. And don’t forget, lots and lots of Tattoos, becuz they help you Play Better!
And make sure that the Guy who CAN’T sing and write (but because HE owned the practice space, the van, or the Pa) HE gets to be both the mediocre “songwriter”, and the Sour out of Key “lead singer, Screamer, and Howler”, as well as the Lead fumble fingers GUITARIST, becuz HE is a TRUE Muzical Geeny us!
And then have some asshole label dudes in New Yawk, sign and jam them thru the Giant Telecommunications Ground Meat Machine, for a Quick Fuck Buck, from the next junior high class, of little teen Fucksters.
The Tuning Farts?
So, anyone care to buy a slightly used Tuning Fork? Or never been used? How about, Brand new, in the Box? With Free Shipping? Easy Credit payments? One week delivery?
Hey! You know whut? I think my dogs can sing! Really! Come on Fido, HOWL! That’s it, now Growl! Now sound like you’re Wounded, and in a lot of PAIN!
Damn, you little doggies! You sound just like a Rockstar, from Today!
Whutch you Boys gonna call yourselves?
The Sound , the Fury, and the Noise? The Big Roar? The Jumping, Dancing, Screaming, High Volume, We Don’t Need a Song, or Talent, Band? The Home Depot Key Grinding Machine? The Screaming Wounded Dogs? The Weak and Wimpy, Aimless, Never Ending Intros?
The Sour, Discordant, Cacophonists? The Epileptic Jumping Beans? The Happy, Soft Pussy, Campfire Girls? The Tattooed Freaks Who Got a Gold Record Just for Showing Up and Being Young, and Jammed Thru the Giant Communications Machine, and Splattered On to the Plate of Little Needy Teensters?
Who Needs Talent, when you got a Giant Communications MACHINE, and young impressionable Teens, in need of a Role Model?
Crank up that Volume! Jump around a lot! Flash them lights! And SCREAM! And HOWL, and BARK! Harder, Fuckhead, like you really Mean it! Let me see those Tattoos! I don’t care if you can fucking play or not, just show me the fucking Tattoos!
Now Tattoo your Fucking Dick! I wanna see an entire GREEN, TATTOOED DICK!
Like your dick is entirely covered with a Green Fungus!
There you go! Now you look like a Stupid Fucking Rockstar! Ya big Fucking DICK ROCK!
Now, put your cock in your mouth and say, “Buy my album!”
LOUDER! I CAN’T HEAR YOU! IT’S A LITTLE MUFFLED!
* * *
Pundidiot.
P.S. Oh, Gorged Swill, TV Pundidiot? Keep your Stupid Mouth Shut on Economic Issues. You don’t understand Economics, so you don’t get to speak on it, and mangle and botch it all up.
It’s out of your ball league, Pal, you don’t even Qualify, no matter how much they coach you.
You don’t even get to play on the Farm Team, or the Econ Little League.
If it has anything to do with Econ, just Zip it.
Just drop the bat, Go Home, and play with your baseball cards, and dream about being a Pundidiot, on a talk show some day.
Your Vast Supply of Useless Drivel, is Not Helpful, or in Big Demand.
And the Price on your Economic “Knowledge”, is exactly Zero.
Take that, to your unregulated Republican bank.
The Bankship of Fools.
* * *
It’s a Mystery!
Ya know, I just can’t understand, why the unregulated market, didn’t regulate itself.
Can’t figure that one out.
If I do figure it out, do ya think they’ll give me a Nobel Prize?
Or is that just too complicated to Solve?
I think I’ll start working on Corporate Monopoly next, that one might be Easier!
I don’t wanna overload my brain too much! So I’ll just think about it, a little at a time!
* * *
Final Thoughts! Anybody Got Any Lube?
Let’s see…
Add all this up…
I’m getting fucked by big banks, fucked by the industrialized food industry, and fucked by crappy white and black music…
Anybody see a PATTERN here?
Personally, I think I’m seein’ a Theme.
And it definitely involves a rhythmic, rape like Humping, done by Corporate Dicks.
Or is it all just in my Imagination?
* * *
www.CultureDrums.BlogSpot.com
Y’all come back. And bring some lube.
My ass is getting Real Sore.
* * *
Larry Goes To NPR and PBS, and Tries To Sell Us a Bottle of “Old Doc Larry’s Snake Oil Tonic, and Bank Liniment!”
When You Get the Shakes, and Start Seeing Pink Bank Monsters, Just Take a Swig of Old Doc Larry’s Friendly Bank Tonic! Guaranteed to Calm Your Fear of Monopoly!
Better Rethink “The Giant Bank Theory”, Larry! Back To the Drawing Boards for That One!
Larry Says, “Bank Size Doesn’t Matter! It Really Depends On How Well They Fuck You! And That Depends On How Intertwined They Are!”
I Don’t Know About You, But the Last Time I Fucked a Chick, We Were Pretty “Intertwined”! And In General, Chicks Probably Say, the Bigger the Dick, the More You Know You’ve Been Pricked!
Especially If They Can’t Walk for Days! Which reminds me, a Few of my Girlfriends Did Say, I Was an Excellent Lover! Aahh! [Dreamy Look, upwards, at the Sky.] Those were the Days!
[Patting my lap.] Don’t Worry, My Little Winky Dinky, We’ll Make Friends Again! We’ll Get You a Nice, New, Warm Home! And then You’ll Never Have to Be Lonely Again, in Your Little Mouse Cave!
“Peepity weep, Beep Beep!” “Your Welcome, Mr. Winky, I like you too!”
Hey, YOU, on the computer! Shut up! I’m talkin’ to my Dick! You gotta Problem with that? I gotta keep Morale up around here! If I don’t, we don’t get any work done! Be nice to Mr. Winky! He’s a lot more Productive that way! And for these Hard Economic Times, Productivity is VERY Important!
What’s Larry Summer’s Magic Wand Prescription? Take One Bank a Day, and PRAY! And Then Call Me, in the Morning.
Larry’s Bank Medicine Is , “We’ll Wind the Bad Bank Down, and Liquidate It!”
Nice and Neat like!
Okay, so I’m Thinking, WHAT If ALL the Big Banks “Come” At Once? Say, SEVERAL of Them NEED to Be “Liquidated”, All Together, Like In One “Big BANK GANG BANG?” Hmmm, Larry?
Hey! It’s not too far fetched! I Need to Be “Liquid Dated” Too, and I’m a Big Sperm Bank! Will You Buy My Cocky Assets, Take Me On a Date, and Jerk Me Off, Till My Liquid Comes Too? Splurt! Splurt! Oh, Baby, You Got that Special Bank Deposit Touch!
Biting the Big One, Several Times! Oh God, Baby! You’re “Yooj”! You’re a Monster! Just Rub It, ALL Over My Face!
HERE’S THE BIG QUESTION! Who Will Buy My Slutty, Bad Girl, Toxic Tampon Shock, Financially Diseased, Damaged Goods, Bank Pussy “Assets”, When All the Other Big Trampy Bank Pussies Are On “Fire Sale”, Too? What’s a Bad Bank Girl To Do, My Little Pooky Wooky? Hmmm, Larry? You’re Not Gonna Leave Your Wittle Banky Wanky Girl, Out Cold in the Street, are You, My Little Boogum Woogums?
[Big Pout.] I Can’t Sit On the Shelf Forever! My Beauty Assets Will Fade! No One Will Want My Stale Financial Flowers! [Foot stamp, hair toss.] I’ll Have to Settle for a Much Less Lavish Life Style, and My Big Bank Boob Jobs Will Need Another Tax Payer Bail Out! [Hands on Hips. Head cock. Eyebrow lift. Cold Stare. Translation: “No Pussy for you, if you don’t do what I want!”! It’s Dick Starve Time. Manual Self Maintenance Only!]
Will You Do the “Honorable Thing”, and “Shotgun” Marry Me to the Government, with a Big Boob Bank Bailout, When All the Other Big Bank Girls Are Knocked Up Too? Hmmm, Larry?
Bottom Line It, Larry! Just Where Does the Bank Buck, or Bank Fuck, Stop? Does the Shit Stop Here, Or Just Go On, and On, and On?
The 800 Pound Monopoly Bank Monster, Standing in the Middle of the Room, That NO ONE Is Talking About! Remember, Markets Naturally Trend Towards Monopoly! Got It?
How Can You Have “Bank Reform”, If You Don’t Deal With the Bank Monster, Standing In Your Living Room, and Living Under Your Bed?
Mommy! I Think There’s an 800 Pound, Pink, White, Elephant Gorilla, AND Monopoly Bank Monster, Under My BED! I Can Hear Him! Scritchity, Scratchity, BELCH! Mommy, Hurry, He’s Hungry! His Giant Penis Is Coming Thru the Center of My Bed! He’s Trying to FUCK ME!
I’ll Be There In a Minute, Dear! I Have to Take a Swig of Larry’s 100 Proof, Bank Tonic, To Calm My Fear!
On Second Thought, Maybe a Couple of Swigs! What the Fuck, How About the Whole Bottle! This Shit’s GOOD!
Hey There, Pink Elephant, Gorilla, Monster Bank Boy, You’re Kinda Cute! Whoa, Big Boy, Don’t Try and Fuck Me Just Yet, I’m a Good Girl! Give a Girl a Chance To Decide, If She Wants To Be Fucked, or Not! Let Me Kinda Ease Into It, If You Know What I Mean! I’ve Got My Morals, Ya Know!
Let Me Add All This Up Here! Where’s My Calculator? How Much Money Did You Say You Have? WOW! I Ain’t Sayin’ No, But I Ain’t Sayin’ Yes, Yet!
A Girl’s Gotta Be Careful, Ya Know, Sometimes Monogamy, Is Just a One Sided Bitch, of a Bad Ass Monopoly! And You Can Take That To the Bank, Sonny Boy!
Hiccup! Excuse Me! Say, You Got a Light? It’s Kinda Dark in Here! You’re So Fucking Big, You’re Kinda Blockin’ Out the Light!
No? Whatever, Bub, It’s Your Nickel!
What’s the Bottom Line, On Too Big To Fail, Ya Ass Crack? What’s the Dump, On Too Big, for One Liquidation Pail?
Here It Comes! I’m Squishing It Out! Pinching Off a Big Loaner of a Loaf!
Ta Da! Here’s the Big Stinking Pile Of Shit Nobodies Talking About! Oh, Get a Whiff! How Can I Describe It! I’ll Try! Here Goes!
SEVERAL Big Banks Could FAIL AT ONCE! How do you like that shit? Huh, Loaf Cakes? Wake Up, and smell the shit!
Impossible! Our Titanic “Luxury Liner Financial Machine” Was Built Not To Sink! We have the Best Captains, Wall Street can Buy!
It will NEVER HAPPEN! The Sun Will NEVER Set on the British Empire, or on our Amazing Financial Empire! [Point rigid Finger at Sky, and Shake It, with Conviction.]
The idea of Several Big Banks FAILING AT ONCE is Preposterous! PURE BALDERDASH! HUMBUG, I SAY! SKULLDUGGERY, of the WILDEST SORT!
OH?
Try this on for size.
Several Big Bank Failures at Once, Would Overwhelm the Nice, Neat and Clean, THEORETICAL, “Wind Down Liquidation System!” Still Requiring a Government Bail Out!
Damn! I Thought We Had That One Solved! Easy as 1, 2, 3! Just add Milk, One Egg, and Stir! Yummy, Fluffy, Moist, Bank Liquidation Pie, in a Jiffy!
Almost as Sweet as Real Pussy Pie, Smooth or Hairy! In a Lickitty Split! And Oh Baby, I would love to Lick your Split! Hmmm! Juicy, mildly Vanilla, with a little Banana, and both sweet and salty! Not Bad!
How did that go again?
Several Big Banks, Failing All at Once, Bringing Down the Entire System!
Huh! Never Thought of That!
Who da Thunk It?
Not I, said the Big, Fat Cat, Banker Man! Not I, said the Big Pinstriped Pollytishun! Not I, said the Captain of the Titanic!
“Thar She Blows”, said Captain Ahab Loanman, of the Big White Whaling ship, the “Mo’ Be Pricks!”
“It’s the Big Right White himself! The Whale Street, Moby Bank Dick!”
“My God, me Buckos! He’s Yooj! It’s the Monster Sized, Sperm Whale, Whale Street Dick!”
“We’ll Never Survive, Captain!”
“Don’t Get the Shivers, in Your Cock Timbers, Me Boys! Stiffen Up your Mainsail, and hold hard to your wheel!”
“The Wind is Blowin’ the Wrong Way, Captain! He’s gonna Come in all our Faces!”
“Grab your Harpoons, My Brave Mates, and Throw them Directly at His Giant Financial Penis! Don’t let Him Jerk You Off, when he gets in Close, and Tight!”
“Careful now, Lads, if He Ejaculates His Wad of Money all Over you, Your Asshole will never be right!”
“Aye, Captain! Watch Out! It’s the Big Right White, all right! Don’t let him Eat You, with his Greedy Big Appetite!”
* * *
Now, that’s what I call Prose, and Poemetry, combinated into One Fusional Discourse, or what I will now coin as, “Proesettry!”
I obviously have a very severe case, of Poetitus, and Prosetometry.
Beat them pineapples, White boy!
* * *
Wait, There’s More! The “BankMaster X-9000” Slices, Dices, Chops Off Your Balls, and Leaves Them On the Floor!
When Is My Next, “Big, Fat, Greasy Banker Wedding?”
What’s a Banker to Live For? A Bigger, Thicker, Bonis? A Sexier, Dick Sucking Wife? A Lincoln Town Car? A Thicker Pastrami Samich, With All the Fixin’s?
PLUS, as an Added Bonus, the Big Banks Will Still Behave Like a Harmful Monopoly BEFORE They Fail, By Not Competing in the Home Market, Which Will Harm American Consumers (that’s You and Me!), and Destroy the Fair Market we expect (that’s Mom, Apple Pie, and the American Flag!).
So, just How Will You Marry My Trashy Bank Assets, To a Suitable Suitor, Mr. Bank Liquidator Wind Down Man, If All the Big Banks are Intertwined, and “Inter of Course” Infected?
What Do You Do, When They Are All Intertwined, With Promiscuous, Pus Filled, Infected Investments? And They All Have AIDS, “Acquired Investment Deficiency Syndrome”, the Morals of a Slut, and a Venerable Financial Disease, such as Stiff-ill-us, or Helpees Type 4, or Gone-o-Mia!
AND they Could All Be On a Government AIDS Cocktail for the Rest of Their Life, Plus, Carrying Another Man’s Tax Payer Bail Out Baby?
QUESTION! How Can You Liquidate Them All, If They Are All Sick? If They Are ALL Intertwined? And What If the Sick Banks Are an Amazingly Huge, that’s right, “Yooj”, Percentage of the National Economy?
That spells Trouble! Right Here in the River of Derivative City ! And that’s “Trouble”, I say, spelled with a Capital “T”! [Remove straw hat, and start singing and dancing.]
Answer Me That, Mr. Quick on the Draw, Banker Man!
Mirror, Mirror on the wall, who’s the Fakest Banker, of them all?
I Say, Faint Bernard Says, “They All is! Size Does Matter, in this Coin of the Realm Sized Case!”
I Can See the Government Bailout Wedding of the Future now, in My Little Crystal Balls!
And the Bank Whores of Gotham say, “You’re SO Sweet, Larry, to let the Taxpayers Marry me again in the Future! I Can Hear the Wedding Bells NOW!”
And the Band, Played on!
A wee little tune called “Moral Hazard”!
By Merrill O‘Lynch, and the Misbegotten Hazards of Yore!
Fie, fie, fiddle dee dee!
Aye, that’s a sweet bit of wedding cake, my little darlin’!
You’re a sexy little whore, aren’t ya?
I’d love to lie between YOUR thighs!
And kiss that Sweet Pussy of yours!
L’chaim, and Goidelic, and Sodom and Gomorrah Galore!
Let’s Hope the Luck of the Irish, is all yours!
Here’s to the Future, of the Big Banks!
And may all the Victims, be you, and yours!
(Now, that’s Poetry! Damn! That’s what I call a real French Poimelette! Dat iz tick and rich, like a chewy and juicy schtick, of Shake Spear Mint gum! With Double Bubbles, of Mid Summers Delight filled Night Dreams! It’s a Eau de Miracle de Toilette! It’s an Epic, of Poetree tismals! More than worthy of Selectamint, in the thick and Weighty Tomes, of Serious Poeddicks!)
(I don’t know, Man, I don’t think it’s Confusing Enough. Usually, the more confusing a Poyim is, the Better it is! That’s what I think! How about You?)
The Humble Shoe
The Shoe Walks.
It never Sleeps.
It sees Everything,
but it never Peeps!
The Shoe,
is Wise.
It never lets us know,
its knowledge,
is in disguise.
Honor the Shoe.
For it Speaks,
even tho we know Not,
what It Sayeth.
Bow Down, before the Shoe!
And Tie it.
Or slip it on.
Whatever!
Just put it on,
and walk a mile in it.
You’ll be Surprised,
what it may tell you.
You may Weep,
And be Unable,
to Speak.
Or you might Dance,
with Joy,
until the floor Squeaks.
Wear the Shoe.
It’s up to you!
Learn what you can.
The dance of life,
is quickly over,
and done,
and may seem,
impetuously,
all too sudden.
Lead by example.
One step,
in front,
of your sister,
and brother.
Even if you Stumble,
slowly, put another shoe,
in front of another,
just like,
a protective Mother.
Carry on,
with Love,
as your main example.
Love,
is what we are all,
searching for.
It can help,
when other things,
are far less than ample.
Above all,
wear the Shoe!
They Protect your Feet!
And they soften the blow,
of Life’s inevitable,
Defeets.
And they help you keep Marching,
To Life’s,
strange and often funky,
Beat.
So when your down and dirty,
and don’t know where to go,
put on your shoes,
and a walking,
we will go.
Life is like that.
You may not know for sure,
where you are going,
but you go.
Signed,
El Faint Bernardo! The Royal Poet to Mars!
* * *
(the first quarter of this epic poim was composed, 4:34 pm to 4:38 pm, plus or minus a few, and finished at 5:27 pm, April 28, 2010 by zee Great Bernardo Slambini! Zee 53 minuto el Pomo! Truly a Masterbeast, of Mega fizzical Poetimidree!)
And…
* * *
Ode, To the Leaf!
The Crinkled Leaves,
of Summers Full Gourd,
lie on the ground,
mere shriveled Servants,
of Winter’s New Lord!
And now their only Purpose?
To Serve Our Future Room and Board!
Loved,
only the way a Mother could Love,
and for Mother Nature to devour,
and Hoard.
Ode, to the Leaf!
It’s Life, is So Brief!
I Love You,
My Lord, and Leaf!
You make me So Happy (sappy?),
I could SQUEAK!
If Only the Trees,
weren’t so Bleak!
(This Poimlet was composatated, from 12:30 pm to 12:34 pm EST, April 27, 2010. By Faint Bernardo, the Magnifico! Perform in an “Iron Jay” Leno, Brooklyn Boxer Voice, or in a thick, Shakespeare stage actor voice, with English accent.)
That Walt Whitman guy better watch out! Him and his “Leaves of Grass”! My ass! Wait till they get a load of my “Ode to the Leaf”! Stockholm, here I come! Ka-Pow! Take that, Poetman!
* * *
Larry’s Bank Logic Sucks! And the Bank Monster? He’s Still Under Your Bed! HELP, Mommy! There’s a Bank Monster, Under My Bed!
Larry’s Big Reason for allowing a few Giant Banks? We Need them to Compete Against Europe and Asia! But That’s Part of the Problem!
When They’re THAT BIG, then they DON’T COMPETE at Home! They Become an Oligopoly of Three, times 2 = the Monopoly Gang of Six! They Become a cunt hair shy of a MONOPOLY! A Cartel! Think OPEC, the Detroit Three (GM, Ford, Chrysler, back in the high cotton days), or Coors, Miller, and Bud.
And Guess what My Friends? Monopoly Style Behavior is BAAADD! Monopoly is a NO-NO! Monopoly is the DEATH of FREE Markets, and the DEATH of COMPETITION!
I’ll even go so far as to say, “Monopoly is the Death of the Freedom giving Benefits of Capitalism”, and that, YES, Monopoly Style Capitalism is “The ROAD To SERFDOM”!
BAM! Eat that, Conservative White Boy! A Nice big Hole, in the Hull, of the U.S.S. Ayn Rand. Thar she goes! Blub, blub, down to the Bottom! Who gives a shrug!
I’ll even go one final step, and say, in my Best Charles Heston, with My Musket M-16 Pen held high over my Head, “Monopoly Style Capitalism, is the Road to the Death of Freedom! If You try to take away My Competition, and my GOP Killer, Teflon Bullet Ink, you will have to pry it from my cold, dead, pistol packin’ Pen Hand! Give me Competition, or Give Me Death! I have not yet begun to Write! I shall Return!”
* * *
The Vision Thing. Hold Her Still, Paw, So I Can Get a Bead On Her!
Monopoly is to be avoided like the Plague. (Bill Gates take note. To be Chiseled on Gate’s Tombstone, “I’m sorry I was a MONOPOLIST. I won’t do it Again. I Promise! God, It’s Hot Down Here!”)
Only when there are valid enough similarities to Early Inventions, like the early turn of the century Telephone System, or the Public Electric Power Grids, or Public Water Systems, should Monopoly be Tolerated and Allowed, and Strongly Regulated and Controlled. Got it?
So, my Free Marketeers, what’s the Lesson for Today?
Monopoly? BAADD! Shouldn’t go there! Not Prudent! Read my lips! No New Monopolies!
BAAAD, I tell ya! BAADD! Vision Thing ALL Cloudy! Barb won’t like it! Won’t STAND!
Not gonna do it! We need a kinder, Gentler Banker nation! A New World Money Order! A New Cash Coalition of the willing, not the Forced!
If only my sons Jeb, and Reb, and the Bushmeister, had been as smart as Barb, and me! Karl R., the Bush Brain, you’re the Son I should have had, ya little freakin’ Pillsbury Doughboy!
A One Horse Liniment Town! Dang Boy, Jus Whut Iz a “Mono-Poly”? Is it Kinda Like, a One Legged PONY? One Legged Pony for Sale! Hops Real Good, Just Don’t Ride It!
A “Home Market Monopoly” Does NOT CREATE Competition, in a Home Market! Remember that! No, MEMORIZE IT! Ya Hayseed BROOKLYN BUMPKIN BOY!
Is this what the so called “free” Marketeers want now? A nationwide, non-competitive, “free (wink wink) market” MONOPOLY?
A home market monopoly, where the risk is “Nationalized” with Taxpayer Bank Bailout Guarantees, so we can then Compete GLOBALLY? Where the People get all the downside risk, and the Banks get all the upside profit? Where we Privatize the Profit, and Socialize the Risk?
Because if that’s the Case, then what we will be doing is Taking Away our Market Freedoms at home, so we can FUCK the other guy Abroad, which will make our Corporations even more Powerful, so they can turn around and FUCK US even Better at HOME. WOW! Talk about STEPPING On Your OWN DICK, trying to run the race faster!
“Gee, Coach, I was nearin the finish line, when my DICK sprang out of my shorts, and I got all Tangled up in it, and then I STEPPED On It, and fell flat on face, and ended up with my DICK in my Mouth, and I ain’t even GAY!”
Why don’t we just all lay our dicks under the Corporate Jackboots right now, so they can grind them up, for a bigger Next Month Profit? “DickDogs”, the new Wall Street Hot dog!
“Step right up, and on it! Get yer Hot DickDogs heeyah! A real New Yawk Mouthful! With mustahd, and relish, and all the fixin’s! Nothin like chewin your own cock off, to make a Profit! A guy has to make a livin’ Somehow! It might as well be chewin’ on a Cock! DickDogs, the New Yawk way, to make a livin’!”
Is it down to, “we’ll put up with the Negative Effects of a BANK MONOPOLY at home, so we can stand up to the Competition Abroad?” Is that it? Cuz if it is, you can CHOP OFF MY Super DICK, right NOW! I don’t want to live in a World like that! You right wing, Republifuck, Dickmaster WeenerBoy!
WARNING! A “lack of competition”, is what you get, when you have a MONOPOLY! It is Definitely NOT Good for Markets, or Consumers, and it’s Certainly NOT the American “Free Market” Way!
Got that, Conservative Pinstripe White BOY? Now eat your Pastrami Samich. And wipe that Mayonnaise Come, off your fat Brooklyn Lips!
I Still Don’t Unnerstan Why a Mono, Mojo, Poly, Phoney, Pony Iz BAD! Can You Xplain It To Me Again, Paw?
Jus How the Hell Do You Pernunsillate that Damn WERD? Yeah, That’s It! Wird Rhymes with Bird! By George, I Think He’s Got It!
The Cash Rain in Spain, Stays Mainly, in the Monopoly Plain! I Think She’s Got It!
What is a Monopoly? I’ll make it real simple for you, just the way Republicans like it.
Real simple, so that blue collar, backwoods, frightened, Angry Simpletons, who have had their Nuts Squeezed Off by Giant Corporations, can understand it.
The Vast number of bumpkins “out there”, blame the Government for their Troubles, becuz they can’t see “Behind the Wizard of Oz Curtain” (the “Corporate Veil”) and see that it is the Corporations who have chopped off our NUTS, stolen our Democracy Balls, and sliced off our Democracy Dicks. Holy Crap, it’s all GONE!
Who are the American Bumpkins? Think Anti-Government Tea Party Townfolk, with pitchforks and Torches, chasing Frankenstein through the Woods.
With Sarah “Barbie” Palin, leading the Mob, yelling “Frankenstein RAPED Me, with His Big Throbbing, Monster Government, Electrode PENIS!”
Now do you get the Bigger Picture? It’s not Big Government that has FUCKED Us ALL, it’s BIG Corporations that have RAPED US, and Used the Lobbyist Controlled Government to do it for them! But they tell us “it was the Government that did it”, NOT the Lobbyists, who are working FOR the Corporations!
Still not clear?
Let me explain this, like you are a 4 year old.
The Government is the Puppet.
The Corporations, and their Lobbyists, are the PUPPET MASTERS!
And You My Friend, are The Audience!
And after awhile, you become a Puppet too, controlled by the Corporations! All strung up by the Corporate Strings!
Good boy! Now you’re Catching On!
No? Okay, one more time! The Corporations used their Money and their Lobbyists, to HI-JACK our government, to Control our Senators and Congressmen, and then rewrite the American Money Game in Favor of the Corporations, and then fooled you, into Blaming it all on the Government!
It’s called “Washington Puppet Theater!” A Hollywood, Detective Mystery, Who Done It, Crime Thriller, Monster Horror Film! But in Real Life, and on your Home Stage!
You, being the Brilliant Motherfucker that you are, then blame it on the Government, which THEN makes it even EASIER, for Corporations to Keep on FUCKING YOU!
How do you like them Apples, Old Blind White Boy? Hmmm? You just woke up, to discover, you’re not only Blaming the Wrong Woman, you’re FUCKING YOUR OWN MOTHER! AAAAAHHHHHH! Damn! I shot the wrong Gal!
You think it was BIG Government that Raped your Daughter, but NO, it was the Sly Corporate FOXES that Humped her! You’re pointing your Shotgun in the WRONG Direction, my Friend! You’re blaming, and hanging, the wrong guy, from the Lynch Mob Tree! What a dumb bunny you are!
What’s a Cartel? Is That Like a “Car Phone?”
You see, Big Corporations, whether they are a Cartel (several companies), an Oligopoly (3 or more companies), a Duopoly (2 companies), or a MONOPOLY (1 company), they STOP Competing, and START figuring out SUBTLE, hidden ways to FUCK YOU.
Now, they don’t come out and say, “We’re maximizing our Profit, and doing it in Subtle ways that fuck you!” Of course Not! The name of the game is to keep you, Little Red Riding Hood, in the dark and clueless, while the Corporate Wolf, wearing Government clothing, EATS YOU!
Corporate Monopoly, and its slightly milder version, the Multiple Member Cartel, is really a Bully, a Thug, a Dictator, and a Wolf, in the Supposedly “Free Market” marketplace! A monopoly becomes “The Only Game in Town”! Or, it’s “My Way, or the Highway”! Or, “Take it, or leave it!” Or, “I’m gonna fuck you, Consumer Boy, whether you like it or not.”
Businessmen even have a word for it. It’s called “Pricing Power”. How Sweet! Sort of like a Rapist saying he has, “Loving Power”. “I’m just giving you what you want, Baby! And you’re gonna like it! Tell me you like it, BITCH! Now, Suck on my Corporate COCK! And tell me you Love It! That’s a Good Girl!”
Put On Your Party Face! Let’s PARTY! Bank Monster Likes to Dance!
And if it’s Several companies, then they all do the SAME THING. They don’t have to TALK together to plan how to Fuck you, they just WATCH what the Other Company Does, and do it Too! GET IT?
Pretty soon, there’s No More “Happy Face, Boy Scout, Mom, Apple Pie” American free market COMPETITION!” Why?
Becuz the Business Game becomes a Corporate Group Team Effort, with a Common Goal of Maximizing Everybody’s Company Profits, by avoiding Price Wars, AND Avoiding Competition, becuz they LOSE MONEY when they really Compete, or have a Price War! Got it, Bumpkin Breath?
It becomes a bunch of Tribal War Lords, agreeing to Cooperate, in a GANG BANG Effort, and Divide up the Territory! Like Gangsters, wanting to Avoid a Gang War! Catching on?
So they all Cooperate to Avoid Competing, and to Avoid Price Wars, and then they all “Male Bond” together, in a Group Rape of You, the hapless citizen and consumer fool!
All done very politely, of course, with lots of warm and fuzzy PR. And since you are the consumer, and the worker, guess who gets Fucked twice, by the Big Chopper Gang, Corporate Rapist War Lords? YOU DO!
Oh what the Hell, it’s inevitable, you might as well just Relax and enjoy it, like a good little Rape Victim!
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and the Wolfman, Are Out To Make You, Go For a Ride!
Poor Misunderstood Bank Monster! He’s Really Very Nice!
You see, the Nice Mr. Market, the civilized Dr. Jekyll, starts out all nice and Civilized, in THEORY, but really ends up being, in Reality, “LOST”, on an island, with Mr. Hyde the Wolfman, and Bank Monster, and now the story is “The Corporate Lord of the Flies”. And Little Piggy, the Innocent One, gets bashed on the rocks, and his head stuck on a stick.
All papered over with warm and fuzzy TV commercial Messages, of course!
“We Fuck You Better, Here at SwingDick Smegma Bank!” “You’re in Good Hands, at Dickster Bendover Finance!” “You’ll Love How We Do You, at Fuckstar Megadick!” “Fuckstar is Your Future!”
“You’re Number One, at American Anal Lube and Loan!” “You are the Future at SoftRape, a subsidiary of InSoft!” “We Care About You, at Universal Rectal Ream and Squirt Bond!” “We have more MBAs (Master Bastard Assholes) at Fucktron, than any other Company!”
“For a Gentle financial Fuck, Try MicroReam by MiniRape!” “You’ll Never Get Raped Any Gentler, at SoftBang!” “Open Wide, It’s Our Job, to Get Inside! Trust ReamOut!” “InSquirt, the new Temporary Permanent Opportunity!” “You’ll Always Go Far, at Fuckstar!” “Fuckstar, We Do You Best!”
Question For Goldilocks, and Little Red Riding Rabbit! Just What Does a Monopoly Become? The Bank Monster Between Your Sheets, Humping You, Till You’re DEAD!
It becomes, “What’s GOOD FOR THE CORPORATIONS, is now gonna be GOOD for the Little People, whether you like it or not!” Oh, but you’re not a “Little People”? Yeah, right! Everything you “OWN” Boy, is “ON LOAN”! Think about that, Mister Minimum Payment, Credit card, Month to month, Mortgage Boy!
Oh, so you think you’ll just buy from another company? Guess what, Mushmouth, the other company has the same fucked up deal, for the SAME PRICE! Didn’t think of that, did you, Monopoly Cartel, Carwash Boy!
In my VERY BEST Edward G. Robinson Voice: “You Dirty Rat! How do you like your Free Market Messiah NOW, Moses? You forgot the Eleventh Commandment, of the Monopoly Market! Thou Shalt Be Screwed, Whether Thou Wants It, Or NOT!”
Plus, as an added side Benefit, we’re also gonna FOOL you, and make you think the Government did it, when it was really the Corporate Lobbyists that did it. It’s called “The Corporate Magic Hour!”, or, “Hey Kids! Its time for ‘Fool the Bumpkin’, the Washington Game Show!”.
And you like it that way, dontcha, Mister Conservative Boy? It let’s you FUCK the People Better, when you’re clawing your way Up, to get Rich as fast as possible! With no rules and regulations, and a monopoly, you’re the only one sticking your dick up the people, and reaming out their assholes.
Monopoly Marriage, Bonded as One, in a Holy Hell of Bastard Matrimony. The Beauty and the Bank Beast!
Chicks like that, when they think you’re the Only One Fucking them. It makes them feel emotionally, and financially Bonded. Makes them feel So Secure, and SO SPECIAL!
And then, in your Big, Generous, Corporate Way, you can fuck her, and Everybody else, and feel like you’re doing Everybody, a Wonderful Societal Monopoly Service!
See, monopoly isn’t bad after all! It’s a Good Thing!
Knock knock! Hellooo! Am I getting thru to that Squirrelly little head of your’s?
Now do you understand why Republicans don’t want a Consumer Protection Agency?
Becuz it gets in the way of Businessmen FUCKING YOU!
What’s the Point, Dude? I Still Don’t Get the Point! This Is WAY Too Confusing! How Can a Bank Monster, Be Under My Bed?
CONCLUSION! You Can’t have these Super Huge, Giant Banks, and then Pretend it’s a Competitive Home Market, with Actual Real live Competition! No Way Pinocchio! You can’t say “a Home Market Bank Monopoly” is Competitive, in it’s home market!
What is it? It’s an “Unspoken Cartel, Bank Monopoly”, with NO Competition! Got it?
Or, it’s an “Unspoken Collusion, Double Oligopoly, Monopoly Contagion, with Mocha Latte.” With a Double Bubble Dick Spritz on top, for extra Zesty Flavor!
And then, My Friend, the Big Boa Constrictor Banks, become Entwined, just like before! Like Big Satanic SNAKES, HISSING, Kissing, and having Snake Sex. And then, once again, they become TOO Big To Fail.
Permanent Bail Out Condition! RED ALERT! Prepare for Nuclear Missile Strike! Can’t Leave Your Bed! Bank Monster Will Grab Your Feet!
And then you have to SAVE all the Pregnant Snakes, all over again, mister Conservative “free” market man! Oh Yeah Baby! Put that Big Sex Snake, ALL the Way up my Virgin Market Vagina! You SNAKE, you! Now wiggle your little hissy snakey Tongue! Hiiissss! Momma likey!
Now, what part of that don’t you want to admit too, mister Larry “Endless Surf Boy” Summers?
Is that your Deal with the Banks? You’ll trade size restrictions on the banks, in exchange for the banks agreeing to regulations that we had before, regulations that the Republicans repealed, and threw away in the last 30 years?
Where’s Black Batman? What Happened to Superman? Where’s Lois Lane, and Clark Kent?
Where has the Justice Department disappeared to, on this Issue of Corporate Monopoly in America? Where’s Barack, the Black Knight in Shining Armor All? Or is Everybody “pimped out”, with Spinner Wheels on?
Larry, you little Brooklyn fucker, you like to Sidestep around Issues, when you are interviewed. You’re a Good little Side Stepper! You think you’re pretty slick.
You may fool the others who can’t understand this econ shit, but you can’t fool me, cuz I understand it. Try and Side Step around Me. I understand the Subject Matter, and I think I understand your Current Game Goals. You may be able to snow the average idiot back in Brooklyn, but not me. That would be making, as they say back in Brooklyn, a “Yooj” mistake.
The BIG QUESTION Remains: How can you have “Bank Reform”, if you allow Banks to grow to Monopoly Size?
Answer me that, Bird Brain.
If you’re too big too fail, you ARE too big, and you are now in, The Wonderful Land, of “Monopoly World”. Where objects, and People don’t behave Normally. Quantum Bank Mechanics, and Quantum Monopoly Physics takes over, and you are now in the strange New World of String Theory, where you, and the rest of your buddies, are just Puppets on a Corporate String!
* * *
And Now for Something Completely Different! Bank Tricks!
Merlin, the Magic Bank Monster! The Magic Mellon Boy, With His Dexterous Finger Dick Tricks! Distract ’em With One Hand, Fool ‘em With the Other!
It’s Bank Magic! It’s the Great Mellon Master, the Great Bank Houdini, and the W. C. Fields “Bank Dick”, All Rolled Into One!
P.S. Regarding the extra dude, the bankster from BNY Mellon, interviewed on PBS Newshour, the same nite as Larry Summers (week of April 18th, 2010). He “side steps” issues too. But his little secret is, he dazzles you with his Finger and Hand Movements, his “Hypnotizing Magic Fingers”. Like a Magician Distracting you for a trick. While you intently and naturally watch his left hand, he completes the Trick with his subtle, unseen, right hand! Only this time, it’s a Verbal Trick!
As he talks, after a while, you start watching his hands, like watching a Snake Charmer charm a snake, and then you start to forget what he’s saying, which I think is part of his plan!
It’s also a way for him to subtly Psychologically Manipulate You (the Better to Eat you with, My Dear) by getting you “in sync”, mesmerized and in agreement with his hand motions, and then, you are more open to his Message! It’s The Famous Doctor Mesmer, Mesmerizing you with his Bank Dick Magic!
It’s SPOOKY! And then, Abra Cadabra! Poof! The Truth is Gone! And Little Red Riding Hood, that’s you, gets sucked inside the Big Bad Bank Wolf!
After a awhile you have to put your whole arm across the bottom of the TV, to block out his Magic Finger Tricks, and then you realize his message isn’t so FUN anymore.
Both of these guys, Larry and the Mellon Man, had to have sold Used Cars, real junkers, at some point in their lives!
Yep! This little Baby’ll getcha where ya need to go! Trust me! Only driven to Church by a little old lady, on Sundays! What? Oh, don’t worry about that! That’s supposed to fall off! That’s not important at all!
After awhile, you realize that for these guys to get to where they got to, they had to have paid a Price they were more than willing to pay. The Question is, how much does that Price they willingly paid, continue to fuck up ALL the Words, that come out of their mealy little mouths, for the Rest of their little Weasel Lives?
It’s like listening to Gorged Swill, and the other Sold Out Pundidiots.
How much can you Trust ANYTHING really, that dribbles, spouts, spews, foams or Vomits, out of their compromised ASSDICKMOUTHS?
We’ll never know The Faustian Terms, of “The Deal” they made, to get in, or on, “The Show”.
Only the Shadows, in their Damaged Souls, Know!
And God.
And you can probably take that,
to the Bank.
Signed,
Your Trusted Observer,
Old Paint, the One Legged Horse Dick!
And,
Faint Bernard,
The fastest,
one eyed,
master baiting,
Quick on the Paw,
Bun slinger,
in what’s left,
of the Old, Free West!
Damn, that’s good Poemetry! Right up there with Lord By-Ron, the RapMaster. Push that Beat button on the Cascio keyboard, I Feels like “composing” me, a Brilly-Ant, pre-programmed, Rapatation! With True Poetic Repetition!
Copyright © 2010 by Bernard Drums! All rights, tonics, and sour mash bourbon whiskey liniments, Reserved.
Next on the list? Why Monsanto is another example of the Negative Effects of Monopoly! And why eating industrialized, chemically impregnated, or genetically modified food, just might make your dick, or clitoris, FALL OFF, into your Soup!
* * *
Waking Up, in the Wrong Future!
You know, I’ve been really feeling like the second “Back to the Future” sequel, for a long time now, where The Kid wakes up and discovers the future is all wrong, and Biff is in Control, and everything about life has gone horribly wrong.
That’s the feeling I’m getting, that the future has arrived, and it’s The WRONG FUTURE!
I’ve been feeling this way for quite sometime now. For example, I haven’t had a decent, sweet, ripe, good tasting cup of frozen, or canned corn, in about 10 years. And I Love corn. Give me a bowl of corn, with some butter and salt, and I’m a Happy Camper. But I don’t buy frozen or canned corn at all anymore.
It just doesn’t taste good anymore. In fact, it doesn’t have ANY Taste at all. It looks yellow on the outside, but inside it has this white plastic cooler foam color and consistency, and tastes like I’m munching on white plastic packing peanuts.
I thought it was the weather, and the corn just didn’t have a chance to get ripe. But now I’m not so sure. Is this that new Genetically Modified Corn, I keep hearing about, or what? Cuz if it is, the days of good tasting corn are over.
Just one more food they’ve managed to Destroy, in order to Sell it. Shades of Viet Nam, “We had to Destroy the Village, in order to Save it.” Now it’s, “We had to Destroy the Food, in order to Sell it, or Package it.”
And I haven’t had juicy, sweet, good tasting, fresh chicken from the supermarket, in about 20 years. If you buy “fresh” chicken, the bones are often all weird, and black and red, and gray and discolored. They should be all white, or a very light yellowy white.
I don’t buy “Fresh” chicken anymore. There’s no “Taste Reward” to eating it.
I heard that Chicken Lobbyists (during the Reagan and Bush #41 greedy Republican era) rewrote the law and “redefined” Fresh, moving the Goal Post so to speak, so that 32 degrees Fahrenheit (the Temperature water freezes) was no longer considered Frozen, but would now be considered “Fresh”, and 0 degrees was now the New Frozen, so they could ship the Chicken over longer distances, and still call it fresh.
Meanwhile, the chicken parts must hover at 32, thawing and refreezing, over and over, in the truck, and on the shelf, and that’s why the bones are discolored, and all the flavor has mushed out of the meat.
Yep! “Had to Destroy the Chicken”, in order to ship it, store it, and still call it “Fresh”. And the Businessman thinks he’s doing you a Favor!
So to solve this New Problem, that the chicken producers themselves Created, people now buy expensive Boneless chicken, and pore gobs of marinade sauce over it, to put the natural sweet flavor back in it, that multiple freeze thaw cycles took out. And the lowly dollar a pound chicken, the FDR chicken that “used to be in everybody’s pot”, now becomes the highly profitable, “Value Added”, Reaganite Republican, 4 dollar a pound, Chicken “tenderloin fillet of steak”.
Got your ears on, Mr. Fucked Up Frank Perdue, and Mr. Tyson, too?
You’re both going to Chicken Hell.
Thanks for fucking up MY CHICKEN, that I don’t buy any more, because it tastes too FUCKED UP!
Now, when you both get to Chicken Hell, there’s No use flapping your wings.
Because both of you, my friend, are gonna BATTER FRY! YEP! As in KFC. Probably the only place left where you can still get good chicken. And both of you guys, are going in a big bucket, where you will be, K-FUCKED!
And Let’s Not Forget! There’s the “MUSIC” Industry! With Industrialized, Manufactured, Defective Music Chickens, and Genetically Modified Corn Tunes! And Old Yowler, the Lead Dog Singer! Christ, Does Any One Tune Up, Any More, These Days?
Sawing My Leg Off, With a Rusty Pen Knife, to Escape the “Music” Noise! No Wonder Music Industry Sales Are Down, They’re Selling CRAP!
And the kids these days? They’re making the Woodstock Baby Boomers look like Geniuses.
How so? Well, Good Black Music disappeared around 1990, after a hundred years of Brilliant Black Musical Creativity. All Gone Now! Poof!
And White Rock? Same thing.
Pretty much “Anything after 1990”,where Poster Boy Curt Cobain, sang like he was in Great Pain, by sitting on a Toilet, and “singing” flat, and out of key, and sounding exactly like he was Extremely Constipated, and desperately trying to take a Dump, of solid Concrete, that was impacted in his ass.
While the band played on, and on, and on, in a sour, flat, drop key DRONE, while Curt howled and screamed in Pain, like a wounded Dog, like a German Shepherd that had been shot by a Nazi Schmeiser machine gun, or had caught his paw in a sharp, steel tooth, Bear Trap, and while dying in the cold snow, he tries to CHEW his own leg off, and all the while with a cinder block sized chunk of shit stuck up his ASS, that no amount of Stool Softener could solve.
No wonder he killed himself, he couldn’t stand the sound of his own voice.
That, my friends, is what I think of Curt Cobain’s “Singing Voice”.
White Boy Rock after 1990 is pretty freakin’ Pathetic. Like Loserville.
(Except a few Creed tunes, when he manages to sing approximately in tune.)
And what’s really sad, is they all think they’re such hot shit.
Which just shows the Power of the Ego, and the Blind Desire to play, at all costs.
Hey Guitar Center! Ya got any Instant Rockstar Kits? With an inflatable black rubber suit, with zippers, buckles and straps? And a Green Arm, tattoo decal sheet? Jar of hair gel? Handbook on “How To Sing Out of Tune?” 49.95 on sale? I’ll take two!
Late night talk shows, here I come!
It All Depends On Just What the Hell You Were Exposed To, Or Not Exposed To.
“Kids Today” wouldn’t know what musical warmth was even if they fell in the Sun.
They wouldn’t know how to sing in key, even if a tuning fork was jammed up their butt.
And they wouldn’t know how to write a full structured song that wasn’t just a never ending, aimless “intro”, even if somebody locked’em in a room, built a brick wall around ‘em, and wouldn‘t let ‘em out, until the Deed was done.
The kids today grew up with Attention Deficit disorder, getting a “Gold Self Esteem Star” just for showing up, and listening to weird, discordant, jangly, out of key, TV commercial jingles, designed to interrupt your trip to the bathroom. This is what you get when you raise an entire generation on cold, coitus interruptus, out of key, jingly jangly, screaming, Sour, Wounded, Shot Dog “music”.
You get what you pays for.
“Classic” Rock from 1990 to 2010? What Classic Rock?
I can’t wait to hear what the Radio is gonna sound like, when they start playing the “Classics” from 1990 to 2010. Just shoot me, like a wounded dog, becuz I don’t wanna be around, when that happens. Just chuck the radio out of the car window, at 60 miles an hour, and don’t look back.
I might as well just stick my head in a Cement Grinder, or a Boeing 747 Jumbo Jet Engine at Full throttle, or a Kitchen Blender on Pulse and High, and record that.
And then, with the recorder still going, Beat your Dog, Poor Fido, with a stick, while the neighbor’s wife runs around screaming bloody murder, like a serial killer is chasing her.
Record ALL THAT, mixed of course by a DEAF “sound engineer”, recently arrived from the Sears School of Carpet Shampooing, and then put some “Pouty Troubled Guys” on the cover, with unwashed, uncombed dirty hair, with lots of Atty Tude, and torn jeans, and weird “I’m Sensitive, I can’t stand up” poses, or macho tough guy poses. And don’t forget, lots and lots of Tattoos, becuz they help you Play Better!
And make sure that the Guy who CAN’T sing and write (but because HE owned the practice space, the van, or the Pa) HE gets to be both the mediocre “songwriter”, and the Sour out of Key “lead singer, Screamer, and Howler”, as well as the Lead fumble fingers GUITARIST, becuz HE is a TRUE Muzical Geeny us!
And then have some asshole label dudes in New Yawk, sign and jam them thru the Giant Telecommunications Ground Meat Machine, for a Quick Fuck Buck, from the next junior high class, of little teen Fucksters.
The Tuning Farts?
So, anyone care to buy a slightly used Tuning Fork? Or never been used? How about, Brand new, in the Box? With Free Shipping? Easy Credit payments? One week delivery?
Hey! You know whut? I think my dogs can sing! Really! Come on Fido, HOWL! That’s it, now Growl! Now sound like you’re Wounded, and in a lot of PAIN!
Damn, you little doggies! You sound just like a Rockstar, from Today!
Whutch you Boys gonna call yourselves?
The Sound , the Fury, and the Noise? The Big Roar? The Jumping, Dancing, Screaming, High Volume, We Don’t Need a Song, or Talent, Band? The Home Depot Key Grinding Machine? The Screaming Wounded Dogs? The Weak and Wimpy, Aimless, Never Ending Intros?
The Sour, Discordant, Cacophonists? The Epileptic Jumping Beans? The Happy, Soft Pussy, Campfire Girls? The Tattooed Freaks Who Got a Gold Record Just for Showing Up and Being Young, and Jammed Thru the Giant Communications Machine, and Splattered On to the Plate of Little Needy Teensters?
Who Needs Talent, when you got a Giant Communications MACHINE, and young impressionable Teens, in need of a Role Model?
Crank up that Volume! Jump around a lot! Flash them lights! And SCREAM! And HOWL, and BARK! Harder, Fuckhead, like you really Mean it! Let me see those Tattoos! I don’t care if you can fucking play or not, just show me the fucking Tattoos!
Now Tattoo your Fucking Dick! I wanna see an entire GREEN, TATTOOED DICK!
Like your dick is entirely covered with a Green Fungus!
There you go! Now you look like a Stupid Fucking Rockstar! Ya big Fucking DICK ROCK!
Now, put your cock in your mouth and say, “Buy my album!”
LOUDER! I CAN’T HEAR YOU! IT’S A LITTLE MUFFLED!
* * *
Pundidiot.
P.S. Oh, Gorged Swill, TV Pundidiot? Keep your Stupid Mouth Shut on Economic Issues. You don’t understand Economics, so you don’t get to speak on it, and mangle and botch it all up.
It’s out of your ball league, Pal, you don’t even Qualify, no matter how much they coach you.
You don’t even get to play on the Farm Team, or the Econ Little League.
If it has anything to do with Econ, just Zip it.
Just drop the bat, Go Home, and play with your baseball cards, and dream about being a Pundidiot, on a talk show some day.
Your Vast Supply of Useless Drivel, is Not Helpful, or in Big Demand.
And the Price on your Economic “Knowledge”, is exactly Zero.
Take that, to your unregulated Republican bank.
The Bankship of Fools.
* * *
It’s a Mystery!
Ya know, I just can’t understand, why the unregulated market, didn’t regulate itself.
Can’t figure that one out.
If I do figure it out, do ya think they’ll give me a Nobel Prize?
Or is that just too complicated to Solve?
I think I’ll start working on Corporate Monopoly next, that one might be Easier!
I don’t wanna overload my brain too much! So I’ll just think about it, a little at a time!
* * *
Final Thoughts! Anybody Got Any Lube?
Let’s see…
Add all this up…
I’m getting fucked by big banks, fucked by the industrialized food industry, and fucked by crappy white and black music…
Anybody see a PATTERN here?
Personally, I think I’m seein’ a Theme.
And it definitely involves a rhythmic, rape like Humping, done by Corporate Dicks.
Or is it all just in my Imagination?
* * *
www.CultureDrums.BlogSpot.com
Y’all come back. And bring some lube.
My ass is getting Real Sore.
* * *
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