My view on partial birth abortion:


Well, which part was birthed?
I guess if it was just a toe or a finger I would be ok with it. Even if a whole arm or a leg was out I could see why the Doctor would justify shooting the pronged baby sucker up the chute to finish it off, but once the head is out, no way, I'm sorry no.


well, maybe... But you're opening a pandora's box when you get into that kind of a thing, then we have to decide whether actual life starts after birth, which is pretty much the accepted view, or is it sometime after the first breath of air, and I think if we keep squabbling over that, those damn conservatives are gonna run behind our back and declare life to begin 10000 years ago when god created it, and then we're going to end up with kooky things like the word god in our pledge of allegiance, and that would be wrong.

you get two today,


let's actually address the idea of thanksgiving.

Now, don't you think it's strange that part of your right of passage into adulthood is to let you know what really happened between the Indians and the Pilgrims oh so many years ago?

It even comes to light years after the idea of santa claus lays shattered on the ground, naked, and being pissed on, and it's a woman, and she's into it, and now her friend is there and she's got a whip....

what I'm trying to say is, maybe it is important for a child to grow up thinking that a race of lower intelligent poorly speaking Indians took us in and formed a symbiotic relationship with us, taught us how to hunt and live in this country, and then when we were comfortable and able to survive, handed over the keys and told us to watch out on those turns.

It probably doesn't hit us as a horrible injustice by the time we learn the truth because all of our indoctrination at that point has come to fruition.

I guess the governmen figures that once we believe that a country was handed over freely, then we can believe that one bullet can be shot from a mans back right side, enter throught the front of his neck and out of his back, spin 360 and go through the back and the wrist of another man, land in his thigh and be in perfect condition.

And I guess they figure if we can believe that a man travels the world every Christmass and drops gifts off to every child who is not a jew or a muslim, then we can also believe that it's "just the way it goes" when a president wins the popular election and doesn't get to be president

Ladies, and Gentlemen Start Your engines,

For precautionary measures I have already sucked back an entire tube of window caulking and hope it covers the hole just long enough for my mash potato volcano with gravy lava to careen straight into the toilet bowl.


Let's not talk about thanksgiving though, apparently the major corporations want us to forgo the celebrations this year, as they are already peddling their Christmas warez.

So I've decided to review some new gadgets on the Christmas market that I've never actually owned or tried,


1.Final Fantasy Games- ok, squaresoft decided to kick it up a notch and shit out something like 35 (approximately) different final fantasy games this season and, for the first time, creating a sequel.
Now, since I haven't even begun to play a single one of these games, I can tell you right now, they are horrible.
To anyone who might pick the game up on a whim I would like you to take a step back, think back to your childhood, the day after Father D'Angelo touched you in the naughty place. Mom and Dad took you to a movie, ok now you got it.
yup, that's right, it was Goonies
now you remember when they went into the Fratelli's basement and you first saw sloth?
THAT IS WHAT YOU WILL LOOK LIKE WHEN YOU ARE DONE PLAYING FINAL FANTASY.
That game is a virus that rapes you through your finger pores and eyeholes,
you will NOT do anything productive
that girl who you go on a date with in the game is NOT real
you do NOT actually have any magic powers
and it is NOT a major life accomplishment to beat the game.
you have been warned
p.s.- you online gamers would be good to take my advice on this one too, because that guy sitting on the corner selling potions is NOT really an Orc who fought enough battles to acquire two of every item there is to have in the world, he's a 30 year old sitting in front of a computer, who got kicked out of the medieval fair and likes to type in old english, even if he's playing a game that takes place in the year 20xx


everything else being sold this Christmas is a great buy for a great price, so grab yer credit cards and head on out

oh, and I hear the new Panasonic HDTV Plasma screen has installed a state of the art life like working vagina on the back, since its picture is so beautiful.

Marinara Sauce- a quick sauce, usually made last minute when sitting around the house bored peering up and down the fridge at a plethora of condiments that in no possible combination could make any true meal.

Sauce with Paste- pretty much the same as the last except the paste gives it a bit of girth which lets it be used on things other than pasta such as stringbeans and so on.


Meat Sauce- takes a good bit of effort, but pays off in the end when made right.


GRAVY- the be all and end all of Italian sauces, the only way to go about making this sauce in time for dinner is to wake up at 4 am, call your grandmother to obtain the sting which you much use on your quest up the path of darkness searching for the holy Grail, after this come some steps that don't really make sense to the sauce making process.


Because of the Mortality rate of those who cook it, it's understandable that even an italian does not eat it more than once a year, and anyone who is not italian may be allowed to join in on that meal as long as they are close friends with an italian who will vouch for them.


In some cases the "Maker of the Gravy"(MoG) chooses to not cook it for years on end, and will only even attempt it when a long lost relative requests.


So anyway, I'm eating an apple last night casting scowls around the table machine gun style, hoping to catch someone mid chew forcing them to stammer, cough, and ultimately fall dead on the table glowing maroon, with a line of spittle connecting them all the way back to their heaping plate of meatballs...

Just today while I was walking in the park, eating an apple (that's 1 gram of fiber down and 34 to go) and looking around at the world about me and trying to take in nature, in that forced way that you do when you feel you should be enjoying a situation more than you really are.

So I'm walking up and down the footpaths and staring at smaller forms of wildlife that can sometimes be intriguing but are put into a clear perspective when pitting them in a fight against a bengal tiger, or even a lowly mongoose, when I saw a sight that caught my eye.

Today was the first day I noticed anything outside myself since the rectal exam, and it was like waking briefly from a dream.

There in that park, on a bench I saw an obese man with a bag of Taco Bell on his lap, ever so fervently rushing through a Grande Combo of burritoes, gasping between each bite, clutching his heart with one hand as he tried to unfoil the next wrapper, and staring around at the November landscape with the look and the sweat of a man on a desert island in the height of summer. As he sucked on a 40oz mega cup of Mountain Dew I Thought,

"Why does he get to be happy?"
"Probably just good genes," I thought, and watched as he clasped a small child who was running by on the shoulders and used him as leverage to hoist up to a standing position. He let the Mountain Dew fall to the floor, along with the bag full of empty Burritto packaging and proceeded with what I could only assume to be the last leg of a power walk....

Confused, and angry with god, I bit my apple one more time, cast a sinister scowl to the heavens, and headed back to my car.. I had enough of nature today.

Good morning again,
and goodmorning again I say to them individually, not wanting to make any of the bottles of pills lined up atop my Television feel left out as i rip off their heads and partake in their sweet nectar.

It is now law for me not to read up on the side effects of any pill I ever take again, because I have received this time the full witches curse, from dry mouth and headaches, all the way to photosensitivity. I've found myself lying under my bed Gollum like Spewing sputtering and spitting curses at the damn window that I just don't have the energy to shut.
I contemplated suicide when i realized that the usually warm and inviting glow of the televisionn hurts us ever so slightly to look at.
I've been laughing in the irony of having to take the pills after eating meals that I told i shouldn't be eating in order not to get even sicker, I have decided instead to try it with and without the meals and guage which symptoms i preffer to feel.

On the bright side, i have made great use of the term "stop it, you're agitating my ulcer," and plan to practice it until i can say it with the conviction and ease that any self respecting AARP member is sure to have mastered.

Dr. Love advised me to watch my stool, so i find myself bending over the toilet bowl (which hurts) with the lights on (which hurts) straining my eyes (you guessed it, it hurts) and waiting for the clouds of brown (ok, everything hurts so let's just assume that from this point forward) to dissipate only to realize I may or may not even have taken the aforementioned dump that I had been assigned to examine.

Privat Pile truly has no real clue as to what a world of shit really is, and Kubrick is lucky as hell he didn't send me into a public restroom with a full metal jacket because things would have gotten more than messy.

I am trying to get myself a colonoscopy, which is something that, in my opinion, at the very least should not be difficult to obtain. Only god (that's right bitch, lowercase g) knows why I need to go to my primary care physician AFTER I went to the ER and argue to have 20 feet of rotowire shoved up my ass, I guess they think I'm looking for jollies.

And Just for a recap, after getting a finger in the bum from Dr. Love, I need to ask Dr. Crotch (I'm not making this crap up) If he can reffer me to an ass spelunker (Gastrointestinal Specialist).

And so it goes, and on and on blow by blow, hit by hit, and plop by plop.

I apologize to Dr Goodfinger for dehumanizing and objectifying her through such a two dimensional and demeaning name, to make ammends, i checked one of the many large bottles filled with large pills in order to find her real name.

Dr. Love, I am sorry for anything i might have said wrong... I hope, Dr. Love, that you (Dr. Love) can forgive me, because Dr. Love.. I wouldn't want anyone to think you actually had one of those ironic names, like Dr.Goodfinger
.....

.....
Dr. Love

I was never one to think of the future in any of my plans. Whether it be squeezing the toothpaste from the top of the tube or throwing out my jack after putting the spare tire of my car, I never really thought much about how it may affect me later on until recently.

Gentlemen, if you're like me and other people in their twenties, then you are in your twenties, and such concerns as health don't really make much of a difference in the way you live your day to day life. I should warn you though that some day you will be in your forties and have an ulcer, there is no way, to the best of my knowledge, of avoiding this, and you have no other choice but to wait patiently as that small hole in your intestinal lining becomes prevalent enought to deny such pleasures in ife like nuts, popcorn, and coffee.

For the first time in my life, i decided to prepare myself for the future, that's right I am already in batting practice for a world class ulcer in the bottom left corner of my large intestines. As i type a hole is forming and splitting itself into a type of pocket where food can get stuck and infect the rest of my stomach.

The ER Doctor, i'll call her Dr. Goodfinger for purposes of anonymity, but i expect anyone who has had the pleasure of one of her rectal examinations will immediatly know which brown knuckled Angel I am speaking of. Maybe it was the ten milligrams of morphine that they seemed to be giving out liberally (considering i went in saying i had a stomach ache), or maybe it was the repeated plunges into and through the inuendo riddled cat scan machine (I was the wiener, it was the donut) but something inside me seemed to light up bright when i heard her whisper gently in my ear,
"pull down your pants, tuck in your knees to your chest, lay on your side and spread your cheeks,"

So what i'm saying is, this is a love story.