June 2010

My brother commented he

hopes people don’t forget that [the late Senator] Byrd was a klansman, anti-gay bigot, and wholly owned by big coal. He will not be missed.

My mother replied:

I disagree with you about Sen Byrd.

He was a klansman–not just a regular card-carrying klansman, but founder of a klavern, a big-time klansman, and a hideous racist. He filibustered the civil rights bill. But then he changed.

He seemed to love the war in Vietnam. But then he changed. His was among the first anti-Iraq voices in Congress.

Coal companies bought and paid for him, and got their money’s worth. But then he changed.

You and I had the good fortune to be born into the progressive faith. Many Americans are not born with that blessing. If they’re ever gonna do the right thing politically, they’re gonna have to grow and change and convert and move beyond unpleasantness in their past. Most people never even try. Byrd was a dramatic exception–he of course didn’t become 100% progressive, but he took giant steps in that direction during a time when most white southern politicians were racing the opposite way. He never tried to hide any of it either, and he was gracious in confessing his sins.

He also spoke brilliantly and could play Orange Blossom Special on the fiddle.

I think he was a great one.

hopes people don’t forget that Byrd was a klansman, anti-gay bigot, and wholly owned by big coal. He will not be missed.


Most teen marriages unfortunately breakdown long before the tedious years of failed college entrance exams and bouts of alcoholism and adultery. These teen marriages are not successful when teens fail to practice Christian Courtship.

By giving your heart and tingling sin parts to Jesus, you can assure yourself a teen marriage that will endure at least a full decade past legal voting age.

Selecting The Target of Your Awkward Christian ‘Sexuality’.
Its getting hard in these End Times to know exactly who the Holy Spirit is telling you to love bomb.
It seems that for every Virgin Mary there’s four Mary Magdalenes, twelve Jezebels, eighteen Rahabs, and pinch of Lot’s Wifes. Mighty Men of God, don’t become dismayed! Even if your school has only harlots now, just get one of them saved and soon you’ll have a Born Again Woman with the benefit of having some foundational knowledge in the carnal arts. Women of God, wait submissively for the right Christian man to come into your life and begin a stilted relationship that strangely mirrors the relationship you have with your father. If the right man doesn’t come along, allow the best looking fellow in your High School to get you pregnant and then have your father and husky brothers convince him to get right with God and marry you.

The First Date
Having found the target of your spiritual lust and sibling-like giggly affection, its time for the First Date.
This can be a nerve wracking experience, especially if only one of you is Pentecostal. A session of speaking in tongues followed by a period of silence rather than an ‘interpretation’ can make for uncomfortable hermeneutical tightroping through the book of Acts.
Regardless of whether your mom will be driving you two to a bowling alley, the library, the malt shoppe, an antiques store, or church, arrive on time and come bearing the traditional gifts of a first date: Gold, Frankencense, and Myrrh.
Dress appropriately! Men, this means wearing 1990’s wool sweaters and women, a long dress with a billowing Bob Jones University t-shirt. Remember: Frumpy is always in style. (The exception to this rule is if you are a teen from an ‘Emergent Church’ or from a ‘cool non-denominational community church’. In this case, anything that would have been cool 18 months ago will be your best bet.)

Sex and Other Mortal Sins
When is it appropriate to Biblically ‘know’ your Christian boyfriend or girlfriend? When they are married to y0u.
To be more specific, the best time is usually a couple of hours after your wedding reception after you’ve retired to the Holiday Inn. (Remember to give the front desk your 5:00am wake up call time so you won’t miss your morning prayers)
Sex before marriage feels really really good and is made all the more sweet because it is lurid and rebellious. Nevertheless, it will get you sent to hell so practice with extreme caution! Say prayers before, during, and after.
Sex in your teen years is the only time you’ll be able to enjoy your body in its lithe and nubile prime and  perform at your sexual peak so get married as soon as possible before you both become grossly warped by the cruel humor of Time and fall prey to the indignities of your early twenties.
Remember what all the kids at the Christian Private School tell you: Blow jobs are not sex.

Teens, stop wasting your time. When are you going to settle down and find yourself a nice Christian spouse and start a family? Don’t you know that Jesus could come back at any minute?

Many teens are presently playing Guitar Hero and wondering: Am I depressed?
The question is always made more difficult for teens to ask and answer because teens have just so many reasons to be depressed.
First of all, they’re growing up in a global economic depression and everywhere they look birds and manatees are stuck together by BP oil.
Secondly, have you seen the skin on a teenager? If you awoke each morning to a new leper mask that looked like a Jackson Pollacked sebum crime scene, you’d have the case of the blues too.

Diagnosing Depression
Yes, you may be depressed. But you also just might be Kristen Stewart or watching a movie with Kristen Stewart in it. Malaise can occur under many circumstances. If you’re depressed, you may experience a clarity about how much life sucks and how phony adults are. Other signs include ‘getting it’, ‘preferring smoking pot over drinking shitty beer like all the other jock douches at school’, and ‘not playing into The Man’s lies anymore’.

Making The Most of Your Depression
When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. And when life gives you depression, take Prozac.
Some teens think that having depression means they won’t be able to have fun anymore, but there’s been a major shift in consciousness in recent years about how to make having depression work for you–rather than you working for it.
Taking days off from school to ‘get your head right’ will grant you endless unsupervised hours to play video games and masturbate with abandon.
Eating carbohydrates will pad you from the world and shield you with the warm hug of fatty tissue, perhaps the last hug you’ll ever have. 

Remember teens, depression is just another lousy part of this wretched joke we call life. So enjoy it while you can.
Teen depression is a cake walk compared to adult depression, believe me.

More on depression:

Fox News ran a scientific poll* of true Americans asking what should be done about our nation’s war with foreign forces invading its precious and divinely unique soil**.
The answer came back unflinchingly:
88% said: “Yes – A portion of America has been surrendered to foreign forces, clear and simple. Send in REAL troops to secure the border, then work on reform.”

It is clear and simple that our beloved and innocent Land of Freedom has fallen to insidious forces whose origins and agendas we can only begin to guess. Whether you choose to call them Illegals or Satan’s Minions, you can rest assured that they have made America surrender a portion of her sweet Lady of Liberty Parts***.

Their Secret Army is everywhere and cleverly disguised. Take Sargeant Moreno of the Fresno Police Department for example.
“My parents immigrated to Texas in 1961 and worked near El Paso where I was born. And I got a job working with the police force in Los Angeles and moved to Fresno in 2002.”
What this so-called police officer fails to mention is that his parents are undocumented. Another portion of America sullied and lost to the Enemy.

Or take Dolores Jiminez of Wichita Kansas, 57 year old grandmother of two: Enemy.

Their forces are all around us: working with us, living next door, drinking beer with you, loaning you their ladders and helping you clean your gutters. They are earning your trust–but why? To befriend you and make you feel like a complete and total asshole for once hating them.

I wish I could say there was an easy solution, but in fact there is a complex two-part solution.
1) A Huge Wall. Get the plans from Berlin or Palestine or the Maginot Line and begin a wall to rival that of The Great Wall of China. Think of the possibilities! Even if it doesn’t work, thousands of years from now, people can come look at it and think of the brutish fear and failed strategies that fueled it.
2) Launch a Full Scale Deployment of the Army, Navy, Marines, and Air Force to the Nation’s ‘Other War’. Its time to stop fooling around and get to brass tacks. I say we draft up some teens, arm ’em with drones and Cobra helicopters and wait for the dust to settle in say 10 or 15 years.

Of course, maybe I’m over-reacting. But if I’m to believe Fox News, 88% of True American Patriots are with me on this. Let’s do it America. Let’s be great again. You know, like when we interned Japanese.

*the poll is not scientific
**God bless America
***Those were reserved for Jesus

There is only one sound in the world that could crumble the mighty walls of Jericho: the humble vuvuzela.
And yes, the Little Trumpet That Could is the musical equivalent of Rocky: small and unassuming but full o’ heart.
But if I might just interrupt you briefly from your 180 decibel bleating…
Could you please take a moment to allow me to enjoy the resonating echo of my inner-ear dying?

I know: you’re excited. You’re ‘in the spirit of things’. I get it.

But seeing as this is our first sexual encounter, I may remind you that first impressions are lasting impressions.
I hope that the look on my face is interpreted as pain–but not the ‘good’ kind of pain that I usually would enjoy from this current sex act.
When you didn’t respond to my flicking on and off my Lava Lamp in a Morse Code saying: “You Rotten Bastard (stop) I’ll Never Hear The Sound Of My Future Grandchildrens’ Voices (stop).”
So I moved to address you with other senses–I tapped on the mat declaring surrender, I vomited down the end of your vuvuzela, and finally I released a musky spray from a gland I didn’t know I had.

Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.
But I will say that I feel my cymbal playing skills have been a little upstaged.

I am a proud American and I’ve got to say what’s on my mind!
There is an insidious ‘deal with the Devil’ that is being posed right now.
You see the issue is this: Marijuana.

I just smoked a bowl of it and now I’m confronted…confronted! my brothers and sisters with a horrifying
possibility. If I eat that Swedish Fish that’s lying there on the coffee table I will begin to travel a slippery slope that could well end up with me eating 37 Swedish Fish.

Can you imagine how red my teeth will be?

It always seems okay at first. Then, either the next step or a resultant 20,000th step will bring you calamity!
You see it don’t matter about proximity of time or if it ‘logically follows’ or if other choices are offered you. You make one choice and BAM you will be setting into motion the gearworks of hell!

For instance. I just ate the entire bag of Swedish Fish. My sugar levels are dangerously high (high!) right now and what I’m now set to do is this: walk to the store to buy a Pepsi.

Yes, a wise person once said “a journey of a thousand miles begins with one step” but another even more wise person said: “one step will lead you on a slippery slope taking you on a grueling Stephen King “The Long Walk” type of death march around and around the world until your feet explode and/or you walk a rut to the center of the Earth.”
Who knows where one step can lead you?
The machinations of cruel Fate have obviously beset me because I’m now walking to the store.

God of Our Founding Fathers, save me!
I have set a precedent!
Just like when this country legalized alcohol again after the Prohibition, I have hitched my wagon to a train whose destination is Ruination Airport! I have shot a Hail Mary pass to Sammy Sosa and the football is my soul!

O demon Marijuana, I should never have….wait…what was I talking about? God, I’m thirsty. I should get some Pepsi.
Oh! The store’s right here, man. Sweet.

There’s been a lot of internet chatter about Justin Bieber (pop sensation, well groomed teen) having Syphilis.
Is it true?

Well, let’s look at the facts:
1) Justin Bieber is real.
2) Syphilis is real.
3) “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” –Hamlet
You make the call.

Regardless if Bieber’s got Bieber Fever or not, its a great thing that he’s been labelled Tinsel Town’s latest Chancre Sam.
Check it out:
If Bieber’s got a sore spot for the Sore Spots, that means that Syphilis will become even more popular with the kids and it will become a hot new fad for this Fall’s Back to School Sales. Target can run ads like: “Seeing Spots?” with their ‘target’ logo. Its a marketing no-brainer!
If Bieber does not have Syphilis (which may be the case–let’s not jump to conclusions) he will be spotlighting a new trend that’s sure to take off with the kids and will become a new fad for this Fall’s Back to School Sales. Old Navy can run ads like: “Having Fun is Contagious!” Its a marketing no-brainer.

Now some of you, Bieber included, might be asking: How did I catch Syphilis? That’s a great albeit moot question.
Syphilis can be caught through vaginal and anal sex–but remember! you don’t have to do both to catch it. Even just one of those can do the trick. Oral, even though its not sex, can still pass on Syphilis. So you know what that means: free season on handjobs everybody!

I remember my friend in Junior High coming to me and saying that he thought he’d caught Syphilis and I was like: “Ugh! Why am I always the last one?” and he was like: “Yeah I caught it from a toilet seat.” and I was like: “No way. I saw a Roseanne episode that said you can’t get it from toilet seats.” So because of my stupid advice Tim Purlic didn’t get it checked out. And later he died of Syphilis. It was all my fault. What I should have said was: “You’d have to have sex with a freshly ‘had sex with’ toilet seat to get Syphilis.” I still feel guilty.

A Who’s Who in Syphilis:
Napolean Bonaparte: This pint sized hottie had a gallon of Syphilis and a side of ‘ooooh la la’ to last for days. When he wasn’t galliantly riding his ever-rearing horse, he was guzzlin’ down 40 oz.s of arsenic to smooth out his Syphilis rages. (Yes, Syphilis gives you rages kids! Not just kinda like taking steroids–exactly like that. Think about that as you ready for the next season of football.)

Al Capone: Dude. Need we say more? That’s how gangsta this disease is. The whole movie The Untouchables is a thinly veiled metaphor for how powerful and strong one becomes on ‘the Syph’. (Yes, Syphilis gives you strength and power kids! Not just kinda like taking steroids–exactly like that.)

Bottom Line:
I’ve always enjoyed Justin Bieber’s music. And nothing will ever change that. Except for the appearance of another teen sensation that will make me first hate and then forget about Justin Bieber.

Syphilis Information:

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