Andy is about a billion years old, and I don’t want to miss any of him, or at least his very last show.  So I decided to write 60 minutes a small note, as follows:

To whom it may concern.  I regularly watch 60 minutes on Sundays and very much enjoy watching Andy Rooney. I do have a suggestion.  Please put Andy on at the beginning of the show, rather than the end.  After all, 60 minutes is a long time for a man of his age, and I wouldn’t want to miss him.

I hope they take my suggestion.  I’ll keep you informed.

She likes giving it to her own three children. You know, being all of 22 years old and about 105 lbs, she has three of her own children. Right.  And she gives it to her school children.

BECAUSE.

It has all sorts of extra energy that the kids need.

Um. Yea. Extra energy. Today’s kids REALLY need extra energy.  Back circa 1987 ish, when I was a kid, we needed extra extra energy. You see, we did things like bike and walk to the places we needed to go.  We played baseball and basketball and had snow ball fights and generally did things that required physical movement.

How about today’s kids?

I think that explains it all.

Sissies.

There are many people, like the PETARDS, who think this is a complete one sided offensive act, driven purely by right winged Neo Nazis for their own morbid entertainment.  All they can think about are little seals getting clubbed for no good reason at all, and spend much of their pointless lives conducting pointless protests and inducting into their cause hot chicks that should otherwise be stripping, serving beer or hanging around and being eye candy at hooters.

Poor, uninformed fools.  They don’t know. Nobody knows, and I’m not supposed to tell you. I will, however, risk being shot in the streets or disappearing forever to let you know the truth. You have to know the truth, before you go do something stupid, like protesting where the seals are.  Nobody has ever come back, except for news crews as they are protected by the military.

Let me explain.

Before I discovered the art of mugging, I spent some time on a cod fishing boat to make some money for college.  It was just north of P.E.I, and the Captain decided to let the boat drift while we were having lunch, hoping the currents would take us to more fertile fishing grounds.  I went out on the deck to enjoy my coffee, and noticed we were close to some ice flows.

It really was all my fault. I was told before even stepping foot on board to ring the alarm if I saw us getting too close to ice flows.  Being young and stupid, I didn’t take them seriously.  I noticed little dots on the ice flows. As we drifted closer, and the black dots became clear. They were seals.  I like animals. I’ve always thought of seals as “dogs of the water”.  As we drifted up to, and into the ice flows, we were close enough to touch the seals. I held out my hand and made clicking noises, hoping one would come close enough to pet.

All hell broke loose.

For fat, sausage like animals with flippers instead of feet, those seals could JUMP. Within minutes there were dozens on the boat, trashing everything, barking, yelping.  I saw a large seal at the throat of the first mate, blood spurting everywhere, me helpless to do anything about it.

The Captain turned the boat around and gunned the engine in the opposite direction.  We were soon free from the ice flows and had the seals that jumped on board killed, but not before the loss of a full 1/3 of the crew to neck and testicle bites.

I was, of course, fired on the spot.  The captain, however, was kind enough to explain to me exactly what had happened, because I was young, ignorant, terrified, and completely stunned by the events.

It seems that the only animal on the planet that kills for the sake of killing (besides pathogens and humans) are seals. They are vile, murderous creatures and will attack humans on site.  The only reason that they don’t cause more deaths than they do is because they live in remote areas. And the only reason they have STAYED in remote areas is the annual seal hunt culling their numbers and making them unable to spread to other areas.

And now you know. Without the seal hunt, you would be the hunted.  That makes all the protests to stop seal hunting silly. Because if seals weren’t culled, they would all have to be killed to protect humans. Kind of puts it into perspective, doesn’t it.

Cast your heads in shame now, protesters.  You are as dangerous as you are stupid, aren’t you.

——

Spaz’s Book of the month – Portnoy’s Complaint

Although I do think it’s very appropriate they call this SLAM poetry.  I like to slam poetry all the time.  It’s stupid, it’s pointless, it serves no purpose in the real world, it’s touchy feely, and for it to be judged as good is something that is very very very…very subjective.

And my subjectiveness says that this slam poetry crap is pointless, and I’m betting the Olympic committee paid this Shane guy WAY too much to get up there and ramble on about nothing in particular to the beats of Jazz musicians who have the real talent.  Not only that, but I’m betting this guy spends his overly inflated spoken word salary on cheeseburgers anyways.

Well, maybe just hamburgers.  I’m betting this guy grows enough cheese under his chin to meet his cheese needs and perhaps the cheese needs of a small third world country.

How the HELL do you grow that much neck fat anyways?  Is that even possible? Whatever the case, at least when he gets all emotional slamming his poetry watching the ripples and jiggles of that massive chin is entertaining.

Here, I got some slam poetry Shane can use, free of charge.  That’s the kind of nice guy that I am.

Check that
Neck Fat
Jiggling around the face
Chin hair, gets there
Can't hide that jiggly place.

Fold cheese, more please
saves the grocery bill.
Scrape under that
Chin fat
Save it in the fridge to chill.

Skills aren't there now
KAPOW!
Slam that poetry out!
Get paid,
Well paid,
By wishy washy clouts!

Pulled the wool over the eyes
Of so many starving artists
So much, so many
I believe my own lies.

Jiggle here, Jiggle there, cheesy chin fat GO
If they knew it took me minutes to write this crap
They might cut off my cash FLOW.

SUCKERS!

Slam this Shane, Slam this.  Although I cannot fault you. If there are people willing to pay for a non service like yours, you deserve that money.

Good for you.

Spaz’s Book of the month – Portnoy’s Complaint

Spaz’s Book of the month – Portnoy’s Complaint

Ok, it was more like “wweeeee juwst wike ebbyone elbse‘, but the meaning was there.

So you’re telling me that a child born with a known handicap, one that has limited mental capacity and inadequate control of their emotions is just like everyone else? And you drill that into their head even though the most that a good portion of them can accomplish is the table cleaner at your local fast food restaurant? If they are lucky?

Case in point, my imaginary dinner with my imaginary downs syndrome friend, Lenny.

Me: What are you doing, Lenny?

Lenny: I am picking a boogie!

Me: That’s not appropriate at the dinner table.

Lenny: I eat mai boogie now! Yum yum in the tum!

Me: Lenny, why are you going red in the face?

Lenny: I make poopie! In mai pants!

Me: For gods sakes Lenny, you’re 41.

Now, you are probably going to call me an insensitive asshole, and you’d be right.  I’m not saying that people with downs syndrome shouldn’t be here – on the contrary.  They have many enviable qualities that I would like to have, most notably some of them can have an excellent mood and a happy outlook on life in the face of any adversity. What I’m saying is teaching them that they are just like everyone else, when they clearly have diminished capacity because of the unfortunate event of a genetic flaw is wrong.

I’ll tell you who the assholes are though.  Right after you teach these children they are like everyone else, you teach them that everyone is different and unique. Which is it, hmm?

——

Spaz’s Book of the month – Portnoy’s Complaint

So when I went to one of my favorite female bloggers blog today, the crapfabulous LILU, what did I see? I saw this:

Not only is there nothing funnier than chuck norris, there’s nothing funnier than bollywood type stuff, especially when they are trying to be serious.  So anyways, I  decided to do a few of my own Chuck Norris posters. They all suck. I apologize.

Excuse me. I have to go kill that tiny pink elephant. I’ll be right back.

Does anyone know how to get pink elephant gunk off your fourth leg? Anywhosits.

I’m high because some stupid old man thought his accelerator was his brakes. There I was, minding my own business at a stoplight, when all of the sudden, WHAM!  There was no screeching breaks, nothing like that.  Some old man just came screaming into me from behind, pushing me into the car in front of me.  The guy must have been 80, driving an ’85 Dodge Van, which I believe is also 80 in car years.

So there I am with no more rear bumper and the truck a few inches shorter in the front too.

In retrospect, I wish he hit me just a little harder so the airbags would have went off when the front hit. That way the truck would have been a write off and I would have gotten a new one.

Regardless, I was pissed. The old coot kept mumbling something about his transmission.  Yes, the transmission made you jam on the accelerator towards the red light, you dumb fuck.

This is why old people shouldn’t be allowed to drive. Ok ok, don’t get all offended pansie assed on me. They can drive – little electric scooters. When you turn 75 your car gets traded in for a fortress 3000.  What are they gonna do about it. Throw their dentures at you? Besides, it’ll keep the roads safer.

Where was I. Oh yea, the drugs.

So anyways, this guy had a big van and he hit me hard.  I didn’t start feeling the pain until that night, but DAMN!  My back started hurting and spasming like a sonabitch.  Carried all through the weekend and into yesterday too.  So for the first time in about 5 years, I went to see a doctor.

See, the doc took a look and then sent me off for x-rays. I didn’t like that.  He did say that there was nothing obvious on the x-ray, not that he would know since I’m not quite human. On retrospect I should have seen the vet.  Regardless, he told me that I would be taking these pills for the next 7 days and to see how I felt after that. He told me to come back in right away if I felt weakness or tingling in my legs or I lost control of my bowels or bladder.  I guess getting rear ended by an 80 year old gives you depends transference, huh.

So it took two doses of these pills to kick in, but now i’m high as a kite and weak as a kitten. And I dont’ care about anything.

So yea, thanks old man, for getting me high for a whole week. Bless you, you retarded old coot.

I love the childlike outlook on life. How they always seem to be happy. Maybe that’s not love, more like jealousy, how easy it is for most of them to be happy.

Also, I love the noises they make when they are excited. DAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGHHHHHHH! hehehe.  A person with downs syndrome in a theater will turn an action movie into a comedy with each explosion, fight scene, or car chase.

Seriously, how can you not love a face like this:

Dargh! You're still going to hell Spaz! Dargh!

Now, let’s talk about the special olympics, specifically when it comes to the weight lifting competitions.  I think that people with downs syndrome are in there not because of their syndrome, but because they have an unfair advantage. Let me explain.

Downs syndrome kids have SUPER STRENGTH.  In my circle of insensitive assholes, we refer to that as ‘retard strength’.

In other words, if you have retard strength, you cannot compete in regular olympics because of the unfair advantage.

Therefore, downies are NOT in the special olympics because they have funny faces, limited mental capacity and an unnaturally bright outlook on life; no, they’re there so they don’t make the ‘normal’ weightlifters look sily.

Also, and this is just for the ladies, I understand there’s something called ‘retard penis’ and it’s HUGE.

You’re welcome.