The Mind of Spaz

I have a problem. Well, i’ve got more than one problem. I’ve got lots of problems. Lots and lots of problems. I could get into those problems with you, but I only have ten minutes.

Here’s the problem that’s bugging me today.  Well, it’s more of a conflict.  I have to go out in ten minutes to lift some very heavy things and I promised myself I’d have a post ready every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

I could blow off the heavy lifting to be sure. It’s just that I’m young enough and in good enough shape that I can go do heavy lifting and wake up in the morning without pain.  I also know that at thirty one years of age, I won’t possess that ability too much longer, so I’d damned well better take advantage of it now.

I’m also a stubborn jackass and I refuse NOT to have a blog post ready in the alloted time. Realizing all this, and knowing that the average time spent on any one of my blog posts is only 8.43 minutes, I decided that I had more than enough time to write a blog post.

See, I solve my own problems. I really am a fart smeller. Don’t anyone get excited, I don’t actually enjoy smelling the air that’s touched your poo, ok?

I’d just like to use my remaining 3.74 minutes to say how much I fucking hate hippie environmentalist eco freaks.  Since it has now become fasionable to be “environmentally friendly” by putting bandaids on problems without addressing the root of said problem, I have become very, VERY annoyed.

At the grocery stores in town, in order to save on plastic bags, you now have to pay 5 cents a bag. OOOOO big fucking deal.  I make 5 cents walking through the front door of the office and farting.

It’s just that the new bags seem to be of inferior quality. They seem to be much thinner and weaker than before, and the stores have done a very good job at brainwashing their employees. Take tonight for example, as the hippie grocery clerk that didn’t wash gave me the evil eye as she overpacked my groceries into not enough plastic bags.

With every step my bags stretched, so that by the time I eased my way into the parking lot, my bag exploded like a Mormon wife giving birth to her tenth child.  My soda ended up doing the horizontal mambo with the wheels of a Ford Explorer and my pasta was confetti for a wedding that will never happen.

Fuck you hippies, fuck you.

rant, social commentary eco freaks, exploding groceries, hippies, plastic bags, retards, rushed

I don’t know what’s going on. I have a major case of subject block. My brain has been dryer than Ellen Dengeneris’s vagina at a fireman auction.

So I’m just going to write any and all things that come from my head, first time, no planning, no editing.  Not even for spelling.

Not that I edit for speeling anyways.

Moving on.

Fucking hippies. I hate them.  Yea, that’s right. I hate hippies.  They need to shower. Women hippies need to shave their legs and their vaginas. My god, can you imagine an unwashed hippie vagina?  I mean, when you let after sex juice combinations stew just for a few hours it smells like hell. Can you imagine unwashed free sex afro like hippie vagina?  I bet she can open her foul legs and drop a fly at fifty paces.

I mean, the hippies general bad hygiene isn’t the only reason I hate them. It’s also along the lines of demonstrating for things they don’t understand and are too dumb to look at the big picture.  But hey, that’s what free society is all about, right?

I thought I hated children. But I really just hate what they have become due to helicopter parents.  Hey parents! Stop hovering and maybe your children will grow up to be adults!  Then again, if you’re not an adult how will they ever be?

Man, I’m such a bitter bastard. Lets’ liven this shit up, shall we?

Why exactly do people have so much problems shitting?  Seriously. Every time I’m in the drug store buying bandages, rubbing alcohol and do it yourself burn kits, I see people buying stomach remedies off the shelves.

It’s either stuff to stop the shits or stuff to make the shits.

I eat food, I turn it to poo, I pass it through my ass. At least once a day, usually twice. It rarely comes out runny, but it ALWAYS comes out.

So what we need to do is selective breeding.  I mean, I could jerk off into every single sperm jar on the planet, but then we’d all be TOO perfect.  And if we were all too perfect, much of my blog fodder (when I’m not subject blocked) would disappear.

No, what we need to do is turn the drug store into a giant dating service.

We’ll force those who have to buy runny shit medication to mate with those who buy can’t shit medication, and the resulting children will be people who shit normally, like me.

Ok, I’m done.
Later everybody.

rant, social commentary eco freaks, exploding groceries, hippies, plastic bags, retards, rushed