" if you have me on the "deplorable" side of the ledger where you think I'm just totally lost and rotten, calling me blindly privileged and racist " That unfortunately, is exactly how the new progressive brigades see you. You cant just disagree, you have to be belittled and demeaned. You cant just want your rust belt…

If youre blue, and you dont know, where to go to, why dont you go, where fashion sits? ? ?

Requiem for a Dream. When the fridge ate that lady. I shat myself.

I'm with you bender. Puke is gross.

PAUSE: sponges, diaphragms, IUD's, norplant. Google 'em.

Ah…but thats the point isnt it: MY baby…not some unwanted sprog from some unknown stranger. Nature was always a cruel bitch.

All that complexity is true, of course, but it quails in the face of getting laid. And getting laid with a big juicy dick.

Gotta say youre probably on to something. Bigger dick deposits the swimmers closer to the prize, ergo more offspring. Bigger purple helmet more closely hugs the VJay wall, removing more of the competitors swimmers. All of which only effectively apply in the absence of monogamy.

Well, yes. But you have abandoned the practice of conjugating your pronouns, which is a real time-saver.

Well for one thing…it will be the end of your lengthy screeds herein. Aint nobody got time for dat. Congratulations, condolences, and a sincere welcome to the club.

Nah…that was the 2006 model. That particular vintage is now only found on the seedier used lots and the dusty backpages of craigslist.

Now that's a blockbuster idea. If Papa Francis wants traction in the US of A, that's exactly what they should do. Big pile of burgers in the dish instead of those stale rice crackers. I might even go back.

The, uh, Itchy and Scratchy Bro?

Speedballs to the funeral baby

I see what you did there.

Or get English with it and go apple with a splash of cream o'er the top and few slices of a sharp white cheddar on the side. Oh fuck im drooling.

I dunno…I bet perch parts could be pretty goddamn tasty.

Straight rhubarb…hell yes. Also blueberry pie and cherry pie have been unfairly stuck with their truck-stop reputation of sticky shit from a can poured into a frozen shell. A scratch homemade tart cherry pie is a thing of wonder…same for a wild blueberry pie if you have the luck of living in wild blueberry country.

Stop shaming the victim. Nobody ever deserved Creed. Though I will admit to my own poor judgements with slutty clothes and substance abuse, I tapped my toe to the first few Creed radio hits. After a month or two of them being about every 4th song on Live 105.3 playing through my bitchin JBL cassette deck in my bitchin…

Nope. He's off the squad. And not a moment too soon…how such a hack ever created such an iconic part of our culture, I'll never understand.