Category Archives: Rant

Calm Down There, Astronaut

I’m trying to watch this otherwise wonderful documentary on the cosmos but every time they cut to this one Astronomer Philip, he starts giving his Hollywood scripted doomsday scenarios about an asteroid hitting Earth, or the Sun exploding like a Supernova… Christ Almighty Philip! Can I just learn about space without all the Hollywood shtick?

And of course they’ve got CGI special effects to illustrate his wild scenarios in full detail – because learning about the Universe isn’t fascinating enough without footage of NYC getting blown the fuck up by an angry Quasar. In fact, if they took out all the scenes of recognizable landmarks being vaporized, the documentary would be nothing but intro credits and one hour of Astro-Philip talking to himself in the dark. Now that the shuttle program is grounded, I’m sure he just sits around mission control all day, calculating how far a Pulsar could flip a school bus or something.


I can assume his bosses in Houston won’t let him on the space station either. He’s a little too buggy-eyed to be trusted up there – I’m sure he’d try snorting Adderall off of the control panel and end up steering it towards the Sun. That’s probably why he’s on the Discovery channel instead of in orbit; it keeps him occupied when he’s not scraping the rust off of old shuttle parts.


Wilford Brimley: Talking Points

Good morning Assholes, my name is Wilford Brimley and I’d like to take a minute to talk to those of you out there fiddle-diddling around, wasting your life on these weblogs. I know this is gonna require some reading on your part which is damn near impossible for a shit stain such as yourself but hear me out… I want to discuss some things that’ll help you live a better life. As you know, you logger-headed kids are the reason this country is going to hell in a handbasket and we adults aren’t gonna stand for it any longer! There’s gonna be some changes around here!

First order of business, I want you kids to clean up that crack den you call a bedroom! Throw out all your dildos, pocket pussies and penis pumps and pick up a good book! Educate yourselves! Albert Einstein didn’t sit around lubing up his genitals all goddamn day, and if he did, it was probably to reward himself for discovering the foundations of our physical reality dammit! I don’t see you poo-packers out there testing quantum theory! You just spend your days listening to music that ties my colon in knots! Let’s cut a deal, you find out how to harness the power of nuclear fusion, then you can stick those beads up your ass til the cows come home! Deal?

Next, I want you kids to pull out all those ridiculous facial piercings and earlobe stretcher things! If the good Lord intended you to look like a circus sideshow you woulda been born with a wine cork stuck through your goddamn earlobes! Besides, nobody’s gonna hire some surly clack-dish with metal sticking out of his face, unless you wanna be hosing down elephant shit from a train car for the rest of your life! Damn carnies. Our American brothers and sisters died to protect your freedoms and here you are sticking horseshoe rasps through your goddamn septum!

Lastly, start a savings account. Put a few dollars away everyday instead of spending your every last dime on candy and soda and lube. What happens when it comes time for you to move out of mommy and daddy’s house into the real world? You’ll end up having to spend your evenings down at the State Welcome Center, fondling the humid testicles of some trucker for pennies on the dollar! Who knows, maybe he’ll grow fond of your facial piercings and then you two assholes can go live happily ever after with an extended stay program at Motel 6! Do what you want! You seem to have all the goddamn answers! 

Driving Me Crazy

Every car horn in this city represents one greasy pube who slipped through the drain at the DMV. Either that or it’s a San Francisco bus driver. Some of them sound like they’re practicing CPR on the damn steering column.

But I can’t blame them – if I had to drive for a living in this city I would’ve guzzled drain cleaner by now.

Stupidity is everywhere you look…

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Some oblivious turdsack stopped at a green light, browsing Tinder instead of driving. [HONK!]

Another horse cunt, cutting across 4 lanes without signaling [HONK!]

And GOD help us all if the driver’s an Asian woman,  Jesus H. Christ… you may as well be throwing grenades out the window, it’d be less of a risk to life and property. [HONK!]

Of course, if you get worked up enough to honk at these clowns, they give you the finger. That’s how stupidity works, it can’t stand the sight of itself.

A Marshmallow Among the Oats

My apartment building is inhabited by the most dumpy assortment of lowly blue-collar sloptards the galaxy has ever seen. At best, the most intelligent resident in the building works at the return counter at Target. But he could never afford San Francisco rent on a Target cashier’s salary; his side hustle is manufacturing meth that clocks in at about 11% purity. Cops can’t even arrest him because it’s technically closer to bug spray than meth. The kid’s got heart though.

Then there’s the low-watt trash heaps in apt #902 cussing up a storm while sitting on duck-taped beanbag chairs in an otherwise furniture-free apartment. Night after night spooning through a soggy bowl of Lucky Charms, looking for any remaining purple horseshoes leaking Red-40 among the cardboard-flavored oat pieces… Quite the metaphor really… This whole building is occupied by “oat pieces”; I feel like by comparison I’m the only goddamned “marshmallow” in the bowl! I’m different. I’m going places. My apartment smells like spring breeze and vanilla bean, everyone else’s smells like failure and hot diaper.

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Every week or so there’s a passive-aggressively handwritten sign taped to the elevator stating they have to shut off the water to the building for a few hours to repair a pipe. Again. What the sign fails to mention is they have to repair a pipe again because Edgar up on the 12th floor continues to wipe his ass with Bounty Super-Duty paper towels, sabotaging the entire septic system.

Thanks Edgar! I didn’t want to wash the dishes anyway; I’d much rather chisel the oatmeal off of the bowl a day later, rather than rinse it off with running water like a modern human. I should stomp some sardines into his welcome mat – payback for not being able to flush my toilet once a week… but that’s something an oat would do; I’m a marshmallow.

Generation Gap

Harriet Tubman rescued more than 300 slaves using a network of antislavery activists and safe houses known as the Underground Railroad.


These two glued mustaches to their lip.


Cleopatra was the last active pharaoh of Ancient Egypt. She was a member of the Ptolemaic dynasty that ruled Egypt after Alexander the Great’s death during the Hellenistic period.

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Krysten totally loves spending time with her dog and enjoys ‘living life to the fullest’.


Hillary Clinton is a graduate of Yale Law School, is a former United States Secretary of State, U.S. Senator, and First Lady of the United States.


Beth glued a mustache to a #2 pencil and enjoys laughing and the outdoors.


Alexander the Great conquered most of the known world by the age of 30.


Mike used the ‘Kelvin’ filter on Instagram to make himself appear more tan and he also likes sports.


Leonardo Da Vinci was an Italian Renaissance painter, sculptor, architect, musician, mathematician, engineer, inventor, anatomist, geologist, cartographer, botanist, and writer. His genius, epitomized the Renaissance humanist ideal.


Todd lives with his grandma and her 3 cats.


And on…


and on…


and on…


and on…


and on…

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and on…


and on…


and on…

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and on…

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and on…

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and on…

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and on…

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and on…

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The Devil is in the Details

So many gorgeous Asian girls here in San Francisco. Sexy delicate nymphs that define elegance; so modest and proper, bedroom eyes, impossibly healthy hair, porcelain skin, and teeth like that pit thing from Return of The Jedi.

I’m not trying to be shallow or culturally insensitive here. I mean crooked is one thing, but crooked AND the color of fall foliage is another. I couldn’t care less if you have a clubbed foot, scoliosis, or a mole with another mole on it…whatevs… But healthy teeth are a must. Having a hot girlfriend with teeth like Stonehenge is like driving a Ferrari with a permanent pelican shit stains across windshield. The wipers do nothing but smear it in a half circle so now you’re forced to drive your sexy miracle machine looking under a permanent arc of dried pelican turd. Sometimes the Devil is in the details.

Hell Hath No Flames, Only Bagpipes.


The bagpipe originated in Scotland several hundred years ago, when your closest neighbor lived 10 miles away and you could practice your bagged horn device in a field all damn day without bothering a soul or having your frazzled neighbors want to stab you in your sleep. At least that’s what I would assume Wikipedia would say if I looked up the history of bagpipes, but I don’t want to type “bagpipes” into Google and have to deal with personalized bagpipe ads every time I browse the internet.

The next parade that rolls through town, be sure to watch everybody’s face as the bagpipes pass by – everyone’s expression looks like they’re changing a diaper on an 13 year old.