Zaftig And Lonely?

So you're a little bigger than the average American (meaning you're approximately seven times the size of the average person from anywhere else in the world). Well, golly, does that mean that you don't deserve to have the opportunity to find your soulmate?

Why of course not!

I hear you, bro. You, as a citizen of The Land Of The Free and The Home Of The Brave, deserve to be as repulsively corpulent as you want to be! It's a free country! Eat, eat! You're all skin-and-bones. Well, maybe not you, but if you lived in Sudan you would be! Screw Atkins - head on down to your closest Burger King and order yourself an Original Double Whopper with Cheese. You could be starving to death in a remote, drought-ridden agrarian village! Eat for your fellow humans!

Luckily, we now have the internet. There are a wealth of dating sites for people just like you. Unfortunately, they are for people who are, how can we put this nicely, voluptuous. What if you're not attracted to people who are, uh, large and lovely? Well, the answer is to do what everybody else does--log-in to an mIRC chatroom, buy yourself a new pot of vaseline and immerse yourself in love!

Just kidding! Haha! Funny!

No, what you need to do is learn how to sell yourself, honey. To help you with that, I've compiled a list of commonly-used nouns and adjectives (ahem, euphemisms) that, in a personal ad, bring attention to the fact that you are a sexual being with sexy, sexy cleavage everywhere. And will hide the fact that you weigh about as much as a Smart Car:

• ample
• badonkadonk
• BBW (Big Beautiful Woman)
• BHM (Big Handsome Man)
• bodacious
• bootylicious
• buxom
• curvy
• embonpoint
• generous
• juicy
• lusty
• pillowy
• rounded
• rubenesque
• schlagsahne
• soft
• solid
• strapping
• thick
• voluptuous 
• zaftig  

Lonely no more! Yesyes! The internet is your oyster and you are it's irritant! Rub yourself against it until covers you in organic secretions. You will become a semi-precious, culturable gem! How? Not with the South Beach Diet, but with words! Lovely, lovely tasty words. Here is an example of an excellent personal ad:

With a curvaceous figure that Venus would have envied, a tanned, unblemished oval face framed with lustrous thick brown hair, deep azure-blue eyes fringed with long black lashes, perfect teeth that vied for competition, and a small straight nose, Marilee had a beauty that defied description.

Now fly! Fly, my pretties! Be fruitful and multiply! Have many fat children! And then, after the next nukular war, come down to my farm so I can herd your juicy, rubenesque bodies for sustenance.

Listening to: "A Letter to Elise" by The Cure

Without You, We're Nothing

Thanks to all our lovely fans and our, evidently, rather ghastly content, our little blog is now the landing site for a number of tasteful keywords, including "googly-eyed dolphin pen", "disgusting fetishes", "delphinic zoophile", "meteorology overseer lyrics" (what could that possible be alluding to?), "harry potter sneezefic" and my personal favourite, "expulsion enemas gallery".

We are now associated with the cream of the internet. I'm so happy.
 
Listening to: "Backdrifts" by Radiohead

A New Day

Needless to say, I was deeply disturbed to discover that my beloved page had contracted a serious case of explosive ebola. I quickly summoned the programming department to explain themselves, but they never showed up. I then summoned the management team to explain their absence, and they made up some excuse about how the budget did not allocate enough money to afford a programming team.
 
I summarily had the budgeting team put to death. I also thought about increasing Bloody Murder's budget, but stopped short when I realized such a move would cut into the profit margins of my lucrative Columbian heroin-laced Orange Juice production division.
 
On a lighter note, I am here to announce the creation of a new political party. I am sure that, as American citizens, you have become exceedingly tired with the state of political debate in this country. The Democrats are whiny little turds who cannot cope with a testosterone-ridden Austrian's juvenile insults, and the Republicans are, in the words of my illustrious colleague H. Meyer, "more insane than that homocidal fool O.Daviron." Ah, Meyer. May he rest in piece. Or pieces, to be accurate. HAHA!
 
Here is your chance to take a stand against political debate. Tired of people discussing the pros and cons of various issues without a hint of rationality or intelligence? Shock them with your own outlandish takes on these same problems! Join the Batshit Party!
 
Here are the eleven commandments of the Batshit party:
 

1. All abortions are banned. Except for third trimester abortions, which are randomly assigned through a lottery system. Hopefully, this will help us take that crucial first step in the fight against rampant overpopulation.
2. The poor will have all of their income confiscated by the state. After all, they're poor! What possible use could they have for the money? The rich will be dismembered and fed to the poor, so that they may eat.
3. The Army will be disbanded. However, we will reinstitute the draft, which will permit young Americans to see the world through the eyes of Sudanese militiamen.
4. Public education will include mandatory exchange programs with Indonesian sweat shops.
5. All citizens will be allowed to carry guns. In fact, to make sure no one's rights are being infringed upon, we will give away one free assault rifle every single time someone registers to vote. Every round you fire is another shingle bolted onto the roof of Freedom!
6. The Liberty Bell will be renamed the Taco Bell, Mount McKinley will be renamed Mount McDonald's, and Lake Michigan will be renamed Lake Fanta. The skyline of Chicago will be rewired to continually blast that catchy, oh-so-popular Fanta song.
7. All properties designated as "historical landmarks" will be redesignated "fire hazards." Also, all zones marked off as "fire hazards" will be rezoned as "public schools".
8. To combat rising oil prices, all engines will be re-engineered to run off the flesh of your first-born.
9. Cloning will be made legal. However, all clones can be no more than four feet tall.
10. Britney Spears will be hired to rewrite the national anthem.
11. The entire Senate will be fired and replaced by a Halliburton associate. It's cheaper and less irritating that way.

That should shut them up. Remember to vote Bloody Murder in November!

Listening to: Visitor From Nowhere (feat. Wayne Shorter) - Herbie Hancock

Well, Isn't This Interesting?

Why does the page look like it threw up on itself?

Listening to: "Cold-Blooded" by The Fever

Flaccid Penis Songs

As anyone who has ever met me will probably tell you, I am one of the bitchiest music snobs you will ever meet--a fact rendered particularly bizarre by the fact that I don't actually listen to good music. I'm really into dance punk at the moment which, objectively, is discordant and horrible, but it does have it's redeeming qualities, namely 1) it's obscure and gives me indie cred and 2) catchy beats. Take The Rapture or !!! or The Fever or, for that matter, any other dance-punk band save Hot Hot Heat (which is more Emo anyway). Basically, the music these bands produce is an electroclash/funk confection of keyboard, kickass samples, industrial beats and cowbells, combined with tuneless screeching and droning, and profane, juvenile lyrics for example, "Pardon my Freedom" by !!!:

Like I give a fuck
Like a give a shit about that fuck
Like I give a motherfucking shit
Like I give a fuck
Like I give a shit about that shit
You can tell the president suck my fucking dick
Did that sounds smart?
Like I give a frick

I'm glad that there are musicians out there who take an active interest in world politics and use their position to make real changes in this crazy mixed-up hegemony we live in.

My Life Without The Internet

In case you were not aware, and I can guarantee you most likely were not, I have been abroad for the better part of two weeks now. I am currently living by myself in Paris, which is not that bad because, as I have told every single girl I have ever met, I am entirely fluent in the language.

The only downside is that I do not have internet access in my apartment. I have it at work, but the best I can do is check Google News compulsively. I always have this sneaking suspicion that my every move is being monitored; should I try and check Something Awful, for example, sirens might go off and I might be dragged off to "the basement". Don't ask about it; the woman sitting next to me jumps out of her chair and runs around the room screaming every single time I try to bring it up.

As a result, I have been completely unable to compulsively visit any of my old haunts. I cannot follow the NBA off-season, I cannot stay abreast of the crazier websites out there and I certainly cannot dedicate hours of my life to bothering people online. It is, simply put, tragic.

As a result, however, I feel my creative juices returning. It is amazing how much time I spend just reading things other people have written, as opposed to developing my own original thoughts. Admittedly, the people I read are funnier and considerably more talented than I am, but I now feel like I have a right to provide the datasphere (it is like the INTERNET but sounds SO MUCH COOLER) with my own particular brand of typewritten drivel.

Before we continue, however, I would like to propose an experiment. Read David Egger's You Shall Know Our Velocity while listening to "Float On", by Modest Mouse. It is not a bad time by any means.

The pleasant aspect of my isolation is that I am no longer exposed to American politics on a daily basis. I no longer have to put up with the Bush campaign labeling Kerry/Edwards at "too liberal" and "out of the mainstream". That alone has done wonders for me.

Ironically, the French do not actually care about American politics. While Chirac is admittedly a jackass and has dedicated way too much of his time to attacking US policies, the average frenchman could care less about we do on our own time, provided we do not bother other people. Contrast this with the average American blog writer, who can spew entire paragraphs filled with anti-french invective.

This just confirms my long-running suspicion that we take ourselves way too seriously. Lighten up, America. Get drunk, smoke some weed, have some sex. More importantly, turn off the radio. It would do wonders for your complexion.

Listening to: Float On - Modest Mouse

Wouldn't It Be Luverly

I was watching the CNN coverage of Saddam Hussein's trial this evening when I came to the conclusion that it would be hilarious if they found him innocent of all charges. At least I would be laughing.

Anyway, we all know that this trial is just for show and that he is going to be found guilty no matter what. So why are we bothering? Let's spare the time and money and just, you know, lock him in a nice, quiet room somewhere with some puppies and knitting.

This trial is a farce. They aren't even trying to give it the semblance of a real legal procedure. Since when was it acceptable to deprive a prisoner of his lawyer at an arraignment? I've watched enough episodes of Law and Order to know that you can't try somebody without gathering evidence. I'll admit, this is a special case since most of the crimes he's been charged with have pretty much been documented in the public eye. However, as far as I know, they haven't even found any witnesses willing to testify. Why? Because if they do, they will get their asses blown to kingdom come in a suicide-bombing. Or be decapitated. Yes, good start.

Liberty and Justice for all, my non-existant Asian ass.

As for the charges themselves, I think they're kind of funny. My favourite is the one about invading Kuwait without provocation. Without provocation. Yes, without provocation. Sound familiar? I DON'T KNOW!!!!

It's pretty bad to admit this, but at this point I'm impressed with Saddam. I am more impressed with a brutal dictator instead of the champions of liberty and the forces of good. I am impressed with his defiance. I am impressed with the fact that he is still fighting even though he knows that he has lost. Maybe it's because he knows he's already lost. He has nothing else to lose. But man, that is courage. Bloodthirsty despot or no, standing up to the fucking world hegemon is courage:

"This is all a theater" designed by President Bush, whom he called a criminal, to win re-election, said Saddam, looking around the court with a half-smile during one outburst.

Bush on Thursday had no reaction to that comment, according to White House Press Secretary Scott McClellan.

Of course you have no reaction. None at all.

Whatever. What do I know? I'm an impotent seventeen-year-old. It's not my damn country anyway. In true seventeen-year-old style, I'd like to quote my favourite ambiguously-gay gloomy new-wave music icon, Morrissey: "Bush should have died, not Reagan."

Somebody had to say it.

VIVA LES PRETZELS!!!!!

Listening to: "Glitterball" by Seachange