Thursday, December 31, 2009
One of the interesting things about being 348 years old is that you've lived past the "Future". Ya know that future where everybody wears aluminium underwear, and has their own rocket pack.
That, and a vacation home on the moon. I recall talk back when I was a lad in the 1960's that said 'the' social problem of the 21st century would be what to do with all our leisure time.
Good lord what were they thinking.
Futurists indeed. These jerks couldn't predict their own bowel movements much less the next century.
Ha! Not 'one' of them saw the cyber revolution or the climatic changes that was banging it's way towards us in history's pipeline.
Speaking of outliving the future. Anyone still read "Transmetropolitan" out there. It was a neat surrealist comix book of the early 1990's. It depicted a strange hyper-culture of the then "near future".
Well the cultural mutations, and techno chaos it foretold all came true. Indeed reality surpassed what was going on in that comix. I stopped reading it in the early 2000's. It took me a while to realize why.
It just wasn't interesting anymore. It read like the Post or the Times. The future had caught up, passed it by, and no amount of re-writes or infusions of younger artists can save it.
I wish I had a time tunnel so I could go back to the 1964 New York World's Fair, and set up a 'real' 21st Century Pavillion.
Yeah there'd be the expected amazing high tech crap, but cheek to cheek with incurable plagues, and profound planetary poverty. That, and the U.S.A. devolving into a third world theocratic police state, violent cults, terrorist wars, and 1000 channels, and absolutely NOTHING! to watch.
The "2001" poster above, with the happy space guys wandering around. Well okay they was all white, and the space women was all making coffee or being receptionists at cosmic hotels, but still.
Anyway it hung in my bed room in my boyhood home. I later brought it with me to University. I still had it into the 90's.
It was such a hopeful though somewhat segregated dream.
Yeah, then there was that Pan Am space plane. It was seriously cool! Well Pan Am died a few recession ago. What we got were the spaces shuttles.
Swell they're now 35 years out of date, and too dangerous to fly anymore. How many more crews is NASA going to burn to death before there's a replacement conveyor.
Did I mention our not going back to the moon for over 40 years?!
All this scary, gawdless, deranged future stuff might upset the gleeful Fair goer's.
I see these early 1960's innocents foaming at the mouth, crapping their shorts, and hurling themselves off the Futurama's streamlined roof.
Though perhaps not in that order.
Well the rubes would be freaked, but the beatniks, and science fiction writers'n fans would get it at once. I'd love to read Philip K. Dick's or Ben Bova's take on the 'real' future.
As for me everyday of this Bizarro World 21st century is like living in one of Hieronymus Bosch's more hellish paintings.
Clearly I must have died back in 1998 or so, and have been existing in this ironic hell ever since.
If anyone out there has a better explanation for all this weird shit I'm all ears.
Look comrades sorry 'bout being so nasty, and grumpy. I'm still the sweet'n lovable sort I always was deep, deep down under miles, and miles of pissed off cynical shit.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
(This here is a little story of the coming time of them Tribulations. Yeah you laffs now, but just wait. The shit com'n.)
Part 1, "The Goods"
It was a dark, and stormy night my phone rang. It was Satan again. He wanted to know if I had the "merchandise?" "Yes!" I said for the tenth time that day, and hung up.
What's the big deal I thought.
One priceless severed head of a Pope is as good as another. Still I can't blame da "Prince'a Darkness" for being nervous. Especially after what happened to him the last time he went toe to toe with the "Big Guy" upstairs.
My TV turned itself on, and a simulacrum of a very young Harry Truman appeared. He was wearing a geisha outfit, and had a rosebud smile on his pouting lips.
"How did it go on the space station?"
Eh, there's these nasty rouge Angles, and Demons that's set themselves up on the old "ISS" in orbit. Yeah they wants the damned Head too.
"Oh Uncle Sydney" Truman purred. "You know this isn't wise", she/he said in Meiji upper caste Japanese.
"There's still time."
"Heavens Leviathans are chasing their ample tails."
"Give 'Purgatory' that fools head, and we'll cover your debts to hell. All will be even."
I threw a Steuben Glass figurine of Fats Domino through the screen. Which immediately repaired itself, and began playing 3-D images of the coronation of Queen Elizabeth,...the First!
Who could have imagined that the fate of the multiverse would depend on a has been Gay pornographer, and the rancid head of an ex-Pope.
Part 2, "Cherry Coke"
Traffic was backed up on the Obama Memorial Bridge. My skating to midtown plan was going seriously south. Homeland Security had gone nuts, and was strip searching everybody try'n to get out of town.
They wanted that "Head", and they wanted it bad!
My options was drying up faster than the Pacific Ocean. Which was just the first plague. One down nine to go.
It was time to call in some "markers." I took off my glass roller blades hailed a peddle-cab, and was biked over to Sutton Place,..the new homeless encampment.
New York is a Hella'va Town. All the more so now that Satan, and his bully boys was running City Hall.
Still things ain't changed 'that' much. Housing was still unaffordable, the schools sucked, it was too hot, and you could get shanked in da kidneys for your shoelaces after dark.
I paid the "undead" cabbie with cats eye marbles, the only solid currency these days. I climbed off the yellow tricycle, and joined the ragged shell shocked mob as they shuffled by.
I did my best to look inconspicuous. Not easy what with me still wearing a spacesuit, and carrying a large Kentucky Fried Chicken bucket under my arm.
Yeah that's where I keep it. The Head that is.
I reach's my destination with only minor incidents. Former yuppies, and assorted republicans, and landlords begging for forgiveness, not a chance.
Anyhow I knocks on the steel plated door of a fortified "Starbucks." A little slot opens, and someone eyes me up'n down.
The door suddenly slides back, and I'm stare'n down the muzzle of an AK-47 expertly held by a 12 year old boy in ballerina drag.
He wasn't smile'n.
"Eh,..the Cardinal in?" I politely asks.
"You the Head Man?" Replies little snake eyes.
"The same." "Tell ya boss I gots the "Original Recipe", and I'm here to talk turkey."
"Ya might also wanna mention my home movies of his indiscretion at a certain boy scout jamboree." "I think he'll want to see me."
Short Pockets lets me in, and goes to fetch his master.
While I'm waiting I makes myself at home. 'Always liked Starbucks, and these days it's the only place ya can still get a cherry coke,..uncut!
Yeah looks like the "Cardinal's" do'n okay for himself. He's got the major food groups covered,..loose shoes, a tight altar boy, and a warm place to shit. Not bad.
Part 3, "Biznezz"
I was just knock'n back my third "Cuba Libre", and watch'n a bunch'a drunken undead demons abduct a crowded crosstown bus into a mini blackhole when the Cardinal stumbled in.
I had apparently Interrupted his meditations with Saint Angel Dust. Hey who could blame'em. The "Tribulations" haven't exactly been a barrel of laffs for anybody.
"So Uncle, you're still alive." His eminence hissed. "That 'is' unfortunate."
"Well I'm glad ta see you too." ...putting on my best sodomized altar boy face.
"Is that him?" Eyeing my "Colonel Sanders" tub.
"Have a look." I sez. "He likes visitors."
The Cardinal who btw was in full drag, miter, robes, ring, hooked staff the works popped open the bucket. The Vicar of you know who on Earth stared up, and blinked at the sudden light.
"He don't say much" I said,.."seems when they did the deed in Mecca they cut'em above the vocal cords." They don't like their victims talk'n. Bad for business or something.
Ya know the final day's is just full'a interesting sights. The Statue of Liberty recite'n from the Torah, talking fish, and the "undead" re-register'n to vote.
But I must admit I gets a kick out'a watching the faithful meet their holy underboss. Which is to say 'the' Pope.
The last in a line that started with St. Peter or Mary of Magdalene. Depending on which one you believe.
I remember the both of them having it out on CNN, talk about a blooper reel!
Anyhow the Cardinal was get'n an eyeful. I can only guess at what his former-holiness was think'n.
While still enraptured with the sight of the pontiff's head in a fried chicken box the Cardinal asked.
"What do you want?"
"Who me or ya pal "extra-crispy" in there?"
His Eminence looked up ashen faced from clear evidence of the 'end' of Faith as we knew it , and said.."You do not fear for your immortal soul?"
"It's in a safe place, but let's get to it." "I wanna ticket out'a town, and a safe conduct pass to the Angelic frontlines."
He smirked,.."You, and eight billion other people."
Well didn't hurt to ask.
My ex-confessor continued,..."Best I can do is maybe a seat on the next migrant ship headed for the "Yankeetown" slums of Shanghai."
My blood ran cold for a moment.
If there were a place worse than hell. A place that would make the Lake'a Fire feel like a heroin, and cocaine uncut rush that was it.
"No thanks" I said, "I don't do windows."
"What else" asked his eminence clutching his monkey's paw talisman.
"Okay, behind door number two I might like ten ounces of "pre-tribulation" Holy Water." (The only kind that still works,..keeps the hyper-demons away.)
"A crate of .45 caliber hollow point zombie slugs. The 'real' stuff not that U.N. crap that only piss's 'em off." "A copy of the Vatican's map to the last safe zones."
"That'n one of them backpack fresh water'n food replicators the Angels handed out when all this shit started."
"Throw in them consecrated keys to your "enchanted" 1950 Studebaker, and were jake."
"In return for?"
"In return for his former holiness's left eye."
Talk about a conversation stopper. Even little "Snake Eyes" who'd been cover'n me with his trusty Kalashnikov went pale.
See the left eye of a Pope,..any Pope can ward off demons, and all their evil fucked up enchantments too.
A real handy thing to have now'a days.
Don't leave home without it. I don't neither. I got's an even set of four mummified "papal peepers" they work too. Like a charm in fact, beats the hell out'a them monkey paws every time!
"So can we do biznezz?"
Part 4, "The Kicker"
The Studebaker, enchanted or not, is the most underrated car Detroit ever crapped out onto the interstates! When I was a kid these things was as common as crucified nuns are today, and just as popular.
Don't know why they stopped make'n 'em.
The light changed to blue, and I accelerated down Himmler Avenue. I made a left onto Broadway'n had to swerve around all the wreckage the "Rapture" had left behind. The National Guard was still scraping, and hauling all that crap away.
Every possible make of smashed car, truck, and occasional pulverized airliner littered the landscape.
On the upside tho' most of the assholes, fanatics, and busybodies of the world disappeared.
Poof! Just like that.
I guess we all got a story 'bout 'that' day. Sort'a like where were you on 9/11 or when that giant UFO flew over Dodgers Stadium during the Pennant Game.
Ha! There was no hush'n that one up.
With me I was at a staff meeting at my job. I used to work at a communist radio station. This is before Satan ordered all broadcasting shut down except for his outfit.
Actually his stuff ain't bad. They tell it like it is, and their game shows is funny.
"You Bet Your Life" is my favorite.
You win you live, you lose you die. Straight up no bullshit. 'Course most of the show is the losers being slowly roasted, and eaten by the winners, but still. It's an honest game.
Anyhow there I was at this stupid meeting surrounded by untalented morons when,..."Poof!"
Them jerks was gone.
This followed by the sound of chain reaction accidents on the street outside. Point is every bigot, asshole, and fanatic was gone.
Btw, the rapture effect really sounded like,..."Poof" I watched the digital analysis of it CNN 'fore the devils shut it down.
Here's the kicker.
They didn't go to Heaven. Least that's what Moses said when he was interviewed by Satan on that new "Demonic Network" of his. According to Moses, and btw Vishnu backs him up on this. Anyhow Moses sez that there's more out there besides Heaven, Hell or Purgatory.
Apparently the "Big Guy" set up all sorts of players we never heard of. Well the "Rapture" scooped up millions sure. Zapped them to,...where? Nobody knows.
Not even The Lord of Darkness, and the Big Guy ain't talk'n. Ha, I loves a mystery.
But I digress.
My little pal here seems to be the key to alot of whats going on. Yeah, yeah it's the end of the world, and this Tribulation shit sucks. Ocean's drying up, devils everywhere fuck'n with folks, mayhem, slaughter, high tax's, and only one channel on tv.
It's like the whole damned universe ate the brown acid then drank the Jim Jones Koolaid!
Ain't we got fun.
But underneath it all is a purpose. The "Big Guy" is up to something, and he's gonna let us all in on it this time. That explains the chaos.
See 'before' everybody was in his own patch, and it was business as usual. Now all these Celestial realities, evil, and Angelic is bumping into each other. Now everyday life is like subletting an apartment in one of Dali's nuttier paintings.
There's a map to where all this shit is going locked inside the Popes head. I imagine that's why he's still alive, and so popular.
Btw, that reminds me. I needs to shove one of my cats eye marbles into his holiness's empty socket. Hey appearances still count.
I turns on to the cracked, and shaky Caligula expressway, and heads west.
Studebaker,..hell of a car!
To be continued.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
I want to live in a place where Good Magic is REAL! Our current world is in the back pocket of Satan. Evil magic is the business of the day.
There's some Good here, but it's like a rose growing out of a crack in the pavement. There's not much of it, and it doesn't last long.
As for our 10,000 year old Hope for a land of Milk'n Honey. We can dream it, but we don't know how to do it. Genocides, and income tax are no problem. We are experienced executioners, and clerks.
However we stumble'n fall trying to make worlds of Beauty, Loving Kindness, and Joyful Living.
I want to live in a Holier place.
A land where enlightened magic is routine. Where the lunch and tuition are always free!
"POPE BITES DUST,...BUT GETS BACK UP."
The Pope seen here during the War as a 15 year old luffwaffe anti-aircraft gunner. He's credited with downing two American B-24 bombers. Good shoot'n ya holiness!
"Flak Happy Jack" strikes again! Hey it was war, and he was a kid. He did his duty!
To the story at hand. Everything was going peachy at the Vatican's "Christmas Do" when out'a nowhere an insane worshiper lunges at the Shoes of the Fisherman. His shoes, pants, swell white'n gold cape, and far out hat too!
However nothing can stop the direct descendant of the throne of Peter, and close pal of the BIG GUY!
Well nothing except "political expediency". There 'was' that matter of them Jews, and others getting tossed into the ovens a while ago,..ahem. 'But never mind. Only Liberals, and Satanists insist on speaking of such things.
All's well that ends well.
Our hero recovered quickly, and said Christmas mass. All the assembled rubes was pleased as punch, and to all a good night.
Once again it's a Lady in Red!
Aww, I'm just joshing ya. You all knows how much I just loves the guy.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
A thought about our recent snow. Actually I wish the City would leave it alone. I wish the plows, and sanders, and assorted giant machines would leave our bright clean snow alone.
Leave it be so it could be beautiful for days.
Not just a few hours till the trucks, and cars turn it brown, and the dogs crap all over it, and the thoughtless pepper it with their garbage.
I'd like it to be beautiful for a whole week,...just for once.
I actually love this day. Even though I say "Bleep it" a few posts down. It's just that I've never experienced the "Day" as my dreams, and fantasies play it out in my head.
I guess nobody has.
That hope of a joyous world full of kindly happy people, and wondrous circumstance.
I suppose it's not possible to realize such a place or group of persons. Yeah sure we're Angels now, and then, demons too, but mostly we're just trying to get by. We're always having to make choices. Those 10,000 moral, and not so moral choices everyday that make us human.
That practical grey reality where we escape our collective pre-history memories of being stalked by *panthers. Our desperate everyday realities of study, work, and advancement,...if we're lucky.
*Panthers had a specific taste for human meat. Their fossilized crap is full of our ancestors bones.
As for those gleeful circumstances this is why we build things like Disneylands, Las Vegas, and the soon to come abomination Harry Potter World. We knock together these cheesy fantasylands to escape into a false womb. An infantile bomb shelter of simple wonders.
As for the high brow they have their opera, paintings, and awful experimental theater that they pretend to like.
For the rest of us the Christmas fantasy is the acme of our collective dream of safety, and plenty. I'm as much a sucker for it as the next fraud.
A holy baby comes into the world to save our worthless butts from 'Everything!'
The King is born!
Let the Good Times Roll! Medieval celebrations of the Yule were drunken brawls that went on for weeks. We need to get back to that
So a merry Christmas to the lot of you.
Don't spend the mortgage, or rent money on it. BUT! If you actually have any lose dough handy spend it on your kids, and pals. You go on, and have a swell old time!
Eat, drink, dance, and fuck through the Yule,..you 'all' deserve it!
This all started on another board in a galaxy far, far away. Basically the demented comment board unofficially connected to the radio station that insists on employing me.
This thread had to do with atheists, and how many of them were in any particular battle fox hole. One thing led to another, and here it basically is.
That radio station WBAI is promoting religious b.s. I'm 'Not' a believer and not interested in sitting in anybody's church for a so called watch night.
The anti-religion Religion.
Atheism in it's various forms is a very strict religion.
Having been a raving Roman Catholic, and an equally intense anti-religionist at different times in my life I can tell ya this is so.
Also it's been my experience that atheist are as nuts to those what disagree with them as say rightwing Catholics would be if you called their gawd a Jewish Zombie.
...which strictly speaking he is.
My religion was very strange. I mean we worshiped this dead guy that woke up told us to eat him. He then went to live in the sky. The nuns told us he's up there watching everything we do.
He writes it all down as evidence to be used against us later.
I wanted to say this was crazy, but anybody that gave the nuns lip had the shit beat out'a them.
So to sum up there's no real difference between theists, and atheist. They'll both try to beat the crap out'a ya if you offend their cosmology.
Btw I'm all for a return of spiritual programming to 'Bai.
In fact I'd love to do one. Having been beaten up by priests, and nuns. Then later given shit by raving atheists I think I'm perfectly qualified.
I disagree that atheists are as dogmatic about their lack of religious beliefs as Christians tend to be about theirs. They want to shove their shit down everybody's throat.
I am content to not believe in the invisible man in the sky and to not try to FORCE anyone else to share my particular POV despite what it might say about their beliefs about humans riding on the backs of the dinosaurs, etc.
your friend "RPM" does a great job during the holidays of dealing effectively with debunking all the b.s. around the "Abrahamic superstitions." Love his show.
And another thing: Did you ever notice that there are no atheists on Death Row? It's the ones that always seem to "find God" whom I'm most worried about.
Yeah death row nuts like Martin Luther King, Dorothy Day, Malcomb X, Fr. William Strzelecki diocesan priest, martyred by Nazis at Auschwitz, etc., etc.,
You get the point.
What about foxholes? No atheists there, either, we were told.
Foxes pray like Krazy! When there's all these guys with big guns look'n to blow you away you'd be nuts not play 'all' your options.
Of course, a contract entered into under duress is not binding, is it?
Good point. If I promise da'lawd all sorts of good deeds while the bad guys is shoot'n the hell out'a my foxhole it really won't be binding.
"Look lawd" I'd say at my later trial at the "End of Days".
"Look lawd my butt was on the line, infact my actual butt had just been shot!"
"Are you kidding I'd promise anybody 'anything' to get out'a that one!"
My lawyer Moses sez "This one's a slam dunk". "I say let this guy walk on the foxhole conversion, and we'll plead no contest on his robbing Fort Knox.
My client is willing to do a week in limbo, and a month public service cleaning toilets in Catholic Nun Hell,...whadda'ya say?"
Com'on lawd, lets settle so we can all go to lunch!
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
You may recall I 'did' say I'd be "selfish, and unhinged for the rest of the season". This after dealing with two deaths close to me in as many months. One to heart failure, and the other via a bullet in the back of the head.
New York is nothing if not violent, and interesting.
So tune out from "Sydneyland" if you like, and try me again in the spring. This because winter may be a bit of a bumpy ride.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
I've at last come to the time of life where I no longer have to shovel snow. Doctors orders. I'd have a heart attack like all the other guys over 50 that are out in their driveways trying to prove their still 20.
One of the swell things about Global Heating, and the apocalyptic mayhem it's slowly bringing. The swell bit about the end of the world as we knew it is that no one has to shovel snow much anymore.
We've had decades of warm winters, and shrinking glaciers all over the place. However every now'n then things go back to normal,...like today.
'But despite that don't shovel the snow.
Btw, I'm changing the season widget on the right hand column there from "fall" to "winter" tomorrow,..if I remember. This since winter starts then.
The "Longest Night" is approaching. Light candles, and put them in your window. That or fire up your Yule Log. The sacred time is coming!
Friday, December 18, 2009
(Bad Taste Post No. 82 in a series of 600)
"Escape Your Punishment!"
A devil in a white tux holding a neon red pitch fork sez,...
"Alright contestant number one, here it is."
"Should you eat this bowl of fresh steamy shit, careful it's runny,...orrrr!"
"Shoot this puppy in the head with a shotgun?!"
Then the sound of a big ticking clock, and tense off screen game show music begins.
"No help from the audience please"...time's running down,..shit, or dead doggie."
"Remember this is for the Grand Prize,...a 'whole' hour off from the Lake of Fire,..." "And!" "...wait for it,....a large Glass of Ice Water!!"
The audience of the damned goes,"...OOOOOOOOHHHH!"
The music builds as the puppy wags it's tail, and the sweaty contestant ever so slightly edges towards the rack of shot guns.
This was inspired by a recent nightmare. Hey ya gott'a get your material where you can.
I was walking down Water Street downtown this evening, and happened on a Con Ed crew. Consolidated Edison is our gas, and power company here. That's the company I think founded by that anti-semite, racist, crook, and patent thief Thomas Edison.
Yeah I'm a cranky bastard.
Anyway I was walking by these guys, and I hear one say from down in the manhole.
"...should I cut this line or what?"
Then his foreman sez.
"Nah ya crazy we'd have an explosion!"
The crewman next to him jokes.
"Holy shit that sucker would'a taken out half da block".
Me I just keep walking. Just another day in the Emerald City.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Bliss sucks because like a really good drug high it ends, and you have to live on Earth again.
With that in mind I'm going to try to enjoy Xmas.
I mean celebrating the birthday of a Jewish Zombie that wants us to eat his body, and drink his blood can't be 'that' hard. It's the friends, and family part that can get you on the front page of the Post.
Like all them shoot outs across the turkey that this country has every Thanksgiving. Lately Christmas has a similar problem. Especially this year with zillions of folks facing the economic abyss.
Desperate folks do desperate things.
This btw is why I really hope that Obama spreads some dough around for all them that are out in the cold this winter.
The only people this would piss off are the social Darwinists in Congress that think you'n yours should die if you can't get a job.
Ironically I seem insulated from this hell. I still have my job, and new home, and the boss, and board of directors likes me. This means I won't be fired till 'after' the holidays,...not before or during.
Anyhow I've been invited to some "Christmas Do's", and this time I'm going. Normally I stay home watching tv or sleep. This time given the hell the world, country, and this city is going through I think we all need to hang onto each other.
We need to eat, and drink everything in sight, and laugh alot. So happy Zombie Day to you all, and fuck'em if they can't take a joke!
Michael Jackson relaxes with new friends in "Old Lady" heaven. He was sent there in exhasperation by the Divine Personnel Dispatch Bureau. They originally sent him to Hell which Mr. Jackson thought was Heaven.
Artists often make this mistake.
He was eventually found at a demonic radio station where he was producing concerts for Wagner, and that guy that invented the tuba. Michael was stashed in Limbo to cover up this "faux pas" , but he wandered out, and came back to Earth.
He was found again this time in Central Park playing the accordion, and singing for coins, and ham sandwiches.
Loose souls are embarrassing. Ghosts, and all that.
The Management prefers an orderly afterlife for it's clients. Having the dead show up freaking folks out is frowned on. This sort of thing affects promotions, and funding in the Celestial Bureaucracy.
Anyway they tried stuffing Mike into the Queer Heaven, but it was too crowded. Then file clerk, and high school teacher Purgatory.
The aborted embryo nursery,...too weird even for Mr. Jackson.
They even tried settling Michael in the G-d, and G-ddess Reservation. This is where most celebrities, and g-ds from forgotten or unpopular religions end up. However too many people are 'still' praying to Mr. Jackson.
This made alot of the inmates at the Reservation really jealous.
Sooo, Old Ladies Heaven it is till upper Management can figure this one out. Michael did ask to try out Dog Heaven, but was turned down,..for now.
More on this breaking story as developments warrant.
Look buster I voted for your worthless butt. I even forked over some dough to your campaign, and this when I was homeless fer christ'sakes!
Yeah we all went nuts, and thought we'd won the frigg'n lottery when you got in!
Ever since that happy day you've been giving us the stiff. You ain't done shit. You're giving the store away them Republicans! They're spitting in your face, but you're still trying to play nice, nice with'em instead of putting them in jail!
Speaking of jail what about all them Bush guys that broke international law with that torture, and shoot'n up civilians all over the place?! You gave them all a pass. "No harm done,..so long boys."
Btw now were getting deeper into that "Graveyard of Empires". Holy crap! You do remember what happened to the Brits, and the Russians. You have read Kipling right?!
I'm not even gonna get started on how you blew National Health in this country for the next 50 years,...you incompetent jerk!
Look pal you got less than a year to turn this backed up toilet on wheels around. If not you're history, and that Palin retard is in business. When that happens all bets are off! WE'RE FUCKED pure'n simple.
SO DO SOMETHING!!!!!!!!!
All I wants for Christmas is the guy I voted for,...you seen him anywhere?!