Do you know what’s funny about Christians?  The same thing that’s funny about every other religion.  Every single religion claims to be right without proof.  They don’t need proof, all they need is faith. That doesn’t stop them from trying to push their “proof by proxy of old goat herders drunk scrawlings” off on you.  Of course, had these same people been born elsewhere, they’d be making the same arguments for a different religion.  Yea, beliefs based upon geography, that’s some real good shit right there, boy.

I don’t care if you believe that purple unicorns come flying out of your ass at night.  Don’t push your shit on me.  Don’t especially use that purple stain on your wall as proof, because we all know it’s from the time you hooped a jar of blueberry jam, forgot it was there, at some chili, and launched that thing into the wall at 100 miles an hour.

Does anybody remember Kirk Cameron from growing pains? Back then he was just a douche. Now, he’s a Christian douche. He goes around pawning off his weirdo psycho beliefs on people in any way, shape or form that he can. He’s kind of like herpes – once you let him into your life he never goes away for long, always popping up at the most inopportune times and generally just itching like hell.

Boy, am I glad I always used a condom.

Anyways, has anyone seen Kirk Cameron the Christian douche with his equally douchey buddy from New Zealand? These turds use a banana to prove god is real.  They call this the “atheists nightmare” By the way, does anyone see the irony that almost every single argument made for god could be made by ANY religion – so hey, why should we believe in yours?

Anyways, let’s watch this abortion of an “atheists night mare”.

So, the banana is specially made, by GOD, for human consumption eh? That would work really really well if humans ate ONLY bananas. But humans eat all sorts of other food too.  Let’s see how well our other common foods stack up shall we?

Wheat.

Yes, wheat. The wheaty goodness of wheat. There’s nothing more I like doing than running through a field of wheat for lunch, nibbling on this wheat or that wheat.  I especially like the way the wheat kernals get stuck in and sometimes crack my teeth. YUM! The flavour!

Chicken.

Chicken can be prepared in so many ways. Look at the perfect package the chicken comes in!  Claws and beak for poking your eyes out, wings for beating your face, and a gizzard full of poop.   My preferred way of eating chicken is biting it’s head off, watching it hop around, then picking up it’s lifeless body and sucking out all the juices. YUM!

Cow

Oh, this is by FAR my favorite!  That’s because a cow is like fifteen times heavier than I am. What I do is I find a cow and I start beating it with my fists. It takes three or four days to kill it with the weapons that GOD gave me, but it’s worth it in the end.  Twelve hundred pounds of cow feeds me for WEEKS.  Of course, by the second day the carcass has started to smell a little bit, and by day ten it’s kind of green and full of maggots, but maggots add FLAVOUR!

Fish.

Ahh, fish, a human staple. Look how easy GOD made it for us to get at them!  He put them in deep WATER!  No gills, never you mind!  Just dive into that lake or ocean and catch a fish with your teeth!  My preferred way for removing the scales is by rubbing the fish on my nut-sack.  Both the fish and my nut-sack come out shiny and raw after that, just the way GOD intended!

One final note, Kirk Douche.  You know that yellow banana that’s made perfectly for human consumption by GOD? Well, as it turns out, that particular banana was CULTIVATED by HUMANS so that it would not have any seeds. Without cultivation, banana’s would be green, and have all sorts of large hard seeds. Don’t believe me? That’s OK, I don’t believe you.  Here, have a look at this Wikipedia article.  They offer more proof of cultivated banana’s than you ever offered of the Christian god in the way that you worship him/her/it.

Douche.

rant, social commentary atheists, christians, douchebags, fishy nutsacks, Kirk Cameron is douchebag, religion

There was a time when I wasn’t such a cynical bastard.  A time before I learned the best policy is to cover-your-ass at all times.  A time when I gave trust before it could be earned.

It was early 2001.  I was a relatively fresh faced twenty-two year old, not too long out of college.  I worked at a small corporation in the Toronto area.  The company was so small that despite having been there for barley two years, I had a modicum of seniority.  Therefore, when a new person in the inside sales department was hired, it was my job to hire them.

It did become apparent that they needed someone else.  As happy as my boss was to take advantage of the fifteen hour days I was putting in, when I almost ran into his precious Mercedes with my ’89 Plymouth Horizon, he decided I needed help.

Without much fanfare, my new co-worker was ushered in to my tiny cube.  Her name was “P” (not her real name, although fitting as she did take a lot of bathroom breaks).  She was tiny, five foot one, maybe a tad over one-hundred pounds, and dressed like a librarian with thick, coke bottle glasses.

“Darnit, these types never appreciate my sense of humour,” I thought. “I’m going to have to watch my jokes”.

Little did I know that it wasn’t the jokes that would get me in trouble, but trying to make a sale. Let me explain.

The company I worked for sold equipment to inject chemicals into water supplies, and analyzers to measure how much said chemical was in the water.  There were three words thrown around more than any other: Dick, cock and nipple.  These are industry standard terms, I kid you not.  The dick was our best selling analyzer, because the first three letters of the model code were D1C, therefore, dick.  A cock was short for a corporation cock, a device necessary for proper chemical injection.  And a nipple was a fitting, a tube with threads at both ends, that was vital for putting it all together.

I knew what those terms meant.  My customers knew what those terms meant.  But not everybody knew what those terms meant.

So there stood Ms. Anal library narn, in my cubicle, waiting to get trained. Then the phone rang.  In this business, EVERYTHING stops for a sale. I excused myself from Ms. Mousey and answered the phone. This is what she heard:

Good afternoon Larry, good to hear from you again.  Pardon? You’re having trouble with your cock? Have you tried jiggling it a little?  That didn’t work huh.  Ok, try pulling it out and putting it back in again a few times.  Sometimes your cock can get caught.  If that fails, it’s because you’re trying to push against too much pressure.  Try slowing her down a bit, then put both hands on your cock and apply firm but direct pressure, that ought to do it.

Oh, you need another dick?  That’s not a problem, we always have some in stock. I can ship you one today. What’s that?  Well how much room do you have?  No, your dick will never fit into there.  You’ll need a shorter nipple. Try the three inch – if that doesn’t work, find yourself a two and a half inch nipple. It’ll be tight, but that’ll work for you.

I hung up the phone and looked for P, only to find her missing.  I heard crying coming from the other end of the office, only to find P in the HR persons office bawling her eyes out.   She saw me coming, called me a disgusting pervert, and told me she was going to press charges.

Crap.

It took the sales manager two hours to convince her that dick, cock and nipple weren’t dirty.  He really should have explained what they were before offering to show her, because he was almost included in the lawsuit.

The moral of the story here kids, is that dicks, cocks and nipples aren’t for everybody.  Just the cool people.

‘Nuff Said.

rant, social commentary atheists, christians, douchebags, fishy nutsacks, Kirk Cameron is douchebag, religion

There was a time in my life when I thought that food was just for eating.  Whether you ate vegetables, meat, a combination thereof, it was just food.

Some people don’t like meat.  They don’t enjoy it, they don’t want to eat it. Hey, who am I to judge?  I’ve had all vegetarian meals before.  I’ve had all meat meals before. I’ve even killed, gutted, and cooked my own animals.  When you’re in the woods, you eat what the woods has to offer.

I met a new breed of people recently.  Sure, I knew they existed.  I mean, I thought if you were one of them you went and joined up with all the rest of the PETArds.  But I was wrong. Very wrong. This group of people are so angry, so unsatisfied with their lives, that not only do they not understand humour or satire, but they feel the need to threaten people with their lives simply for the food they eat.  This group is known as the….

ANGRY VEGGIES!

Yes, these people exist, and there were some very interesting comments left on my last post, Petardia.  One man in particular, was very interesting. He was the first angry veggie to comment.  Well, I don’t know if he’s a man.  It’s kind of hard with a name Dacho. Maybe it’s a girl. Or maybe it’s an it.  Or maybe it’s a boy with a really really small wiggly, which is why it feels compelled to get angry over a little humorous satire.

In Patardia, I was making fun of the the retardation the PETArds call sea kittens, in which if we rename fish to sea kittens, nobody will want to eat fish any more.  They’d prefer people to starve than eating fish, I’m guessing.  The thing named Dacho took exception to that post.  He/she/it took something not serious seriously, and made some interesting comments. For example, on evolution, Dacho says:

-You didn’t spend a single second of “climbing your way up”, you’re eating meat from an animal that’s been raised and slaughtered for you, that’s what you did.

So apparently evolution started sometime in late 1977 huh?  Interesting.

Some other tidbits of brilliance from Dacho:

……we might as well eat fetuses and little babies. Nothing like a nice bloody piece of meat, right?

I’m wondering, just because I like cow, pig, chicken, and sometimes cat (we have a GREAT Chinese food restaurant here in town), you assume I’m into cannibalism too?  Because cooked fetus is just like a plate full of delicious prime rib.  Us carnivores haunt proms looking for dumpster babies.  You tard.

Of course, since Dacho took my satire so seriously, he left serious comments. Not hypocritical in any ways. For example, he said this:

-I suppose you mean vegetable farms. No, they’re not, but let’s take a soy farms example. EIGHTY PERCENT of soy made on farms is used for FEEDING ANIMALS ON FARMS.

And he followed it up with this tibit of genius:

OK now I’m really curious. People would usually delete my comment and pretend it was never there, and continue with their silliness. And I would really like it to be something with trustable sources, not just “doctors say yadda yadda” (like my 80% soy thing, lol).

So Dacho.  You can leave bullshit made up statistics, TELL me they were bullshit statistics, and insist that I come up with verified sources? Sounds like the only one who’s being silly here is you, my friend.

According to the great Dacho, my parents:

I really don’t see what your problem with vegetarians might be, have your parents been hitting you with a vegetarian when you were a kid or what? Anyway, set your facts straight if you wanna spit on something.

I’m guessing that it was actually my parents who had a problem with vegetarians, because they used them to beat me.  And I always thought that dad used his belt. I guess he really hated veggies if he used one as a belt!  And Dacho, why do I have to get my facts straight when you admit you don’t?

As I was making fun of the PETArds and their sea kittens, apparently I also mentioned all the things that I think vegetarians are:

I just love the stereotypes: “oooh, a vegetarian, does that mean you’re gay? or punk? or goth? oooh, so you’re one of those that throw molotovs on MCD! oooh, a vegetarian

Where did I say that in my last post? Nope, I don’t think that about vegetarians at all.  Maybe just you Dacho, maybe just you

While Dacho was an angry veggie, the next commenter, known as Vegan, was a VIOLENT veggie. Observe.

rant, social commentary atheists, christians, douchebags, fishy nutsacks, Kirk Cameron is douchebag, religion

Not long ago, my friends John and Etta wrote their respective pieces making fun of those eco terrorist freaks known as PETA. Who am I not to get on that bandwagon?

The most recent piece of brilliance from those Petards is to call fish “sea kittens”. Apparently, if you think of a fish as a kitten, you won’t want to eat it.

Makes me want fish even more!

The group I now call Petardia, or Petards for short, as a collective, wants us all to stop eating animals. I see three problems with this:

1. We, as humans, didn’t spend thousands of years climbing our way to the top of the food chain to NOT eat animals.
2. There is NOTHING like a nice, bloody piece of meat.
3. And farming is environmentally friendly?

See, with number three, there is just SO many people on this planet that there would HAVE to be more farms. And I don’t know if anyone noticed, but NOTHING is allowed on a farm except for what is being farmed. If you’re anything, plant or animal, other than what’s being farmed, you might as well have just paved it over.

But don’t worry my dear readers, I have a solution that should satisfy the Petards.

Eating them.

The solution is perfect! I mean, you won’t be harming the millions upon millions of cows, chickens and pigs bred to be eaten. We can let them all wander off into the woods to starve to death and get eaten by predators!

No more animals getting killed. Not even sea kittens.

Best of all, extra farmland won’t be needed, leaving room for natural habitats like forests, plains, swamps, and Wal*Marts.

Personally, I might like my Petard BBQ’d. Slow roast those ribs. Speaking of roast, Petards come with lots of natural body hair, pre braided, you can use to wrap the Petard roast in. For extra flavour, try wrapping a smaller Petard inside a larger Petard before putting it in the roasting pan.

But whatever you do, make sure you cut around the part where all the drugs they take are collecting. If you take that you might just start thinking that “sea kittens” was one hell of a great marketing plan.

‘Nuff Said.

rant, social commentary atheists, christians, douchebags, fishy nutsacks, Kirk Cameron is douchebag, religion

*Before I begin the following atrocity, please click here if you care at all about helping those without enough drinking water.

My Dog has a second name.  I didn’t give it to her.  Her given name is Jinx, but according to the guy across the street, her real name is Mrs. Young.

My across the street neighbors are an older, retired couple.  He’s a loud, cranky old bastard that has a voice louder than all the prosti-tots screaming at a Hanna Montana concert.  He combines that loud, booming voice by going topless in the summer time, letting his old man boobs swing freely in the breeze.  His wife compliments his drunken antics by saying virtually nothing at all and keeping her boobs covered by ensuring she always wears pants.

Since they’re retired, they spend all day staring at my house.

“But Spaz”, you’re all thinking, “Aren’t you just being a paranoid screwball?”  Ordinarily I’d agree I was being a paranoid ass.  But this time, I’m not.  How do I know?  Because Mrs. Young was the last owner of this house.

My house was built in 1950.  I bought it in 2005.  And I’m the second owner.  That means that the original owner I bought it from was REALLY REALLY REALLY old.    According to the old loud guy, my dog Jinx stares out the window all day while I’m gone, which is what old Mrs. Young used to do when she had the house.  And to know that, the retiree’s have to sit in their house and stare back at my house all day.

Martha, this owner leaves the house. Get some dog treats to distract Mrs. Young and I'll steal his TV.

Now, you have to think that if you’ve owned a house for your entire adult life, you become attached to it.  Heck, I’m attached to this house and I’ve only been here for three and a half years.

I’m not one to believe in ghosts, but there was this one time, just once, that old Mrs. Young came back for a visit.

And she came back at the most inopportune time.

I had went into the computer room to watch some… ummm, internet videos and have some…. alone time with Pamela Handerson, if you catch my drift.  The door was closed because Jinx, the ever curious terrier might confuse my tan coloured love pole with her tan coloured raw hides.

That’s not cool.

I was in the middle of watching a really cool video of a VERY flexible big boobed Asian when I heard it. A voice, an old ladies voice, right outside the door where jinx was sitting. It said “Don’t worry little one, he’ll be out soon.”

I like watching him best when he's making dookie.

Now, I haven’t heard anything since then. Most likely it was the T.V., but if Mrs. Young is watching, could you please tell me if that thing on my ass is a boil or a zit?

Thanks.

rant, social commentary atheists, christians, douchebags, fishy nutsacks, Kirk Cameron is douchebag, religion