Politicians and their honkers. Bifurcation and duality and a damn fine cup of java. Oh friends, if we could identify evil, if we could point out those who bear the Mark Of The Beast so easily, if we could pinpoint the cheery monetarized f–kweasels that push the envelope down into the dirt, what would we do? String ’em up? Knot and pull and bellow ‘Woo-hoo, look at him swayng!’, lynch-mobilize with foam-rubber fingers pointed skyward, dripping oily sweat and reeking of sweet hormonal bourbon? Crucify the bastards, maybe, thieves and saviors alike, nail ’em up, stand back, point and laugh as they writhe and beg, and f–k the moral equivalence with a stainless-steel strap-on? Kill ’em all and let God sort them out, vengeful but eminently fair bitch that she is?
Not clear as an unmuddied pool under skies of deepest azure, no, more like clear as paper rubbed with the labial edge of Big Mac™. Translucent, but tasty.
What would we do if we could scent the evil on these f–kers, if we could see it like a sh-t-brown aura? What would we do?
Me, I got me a clue. Gimme a silver bullet, friend, and I’ll kill the werewolves. Drop the predators in their tracks. But be aware : another waits to take the Big Bad Wolf’s place, and the new one is without fail even worse, dollars to damned donuts. It doesn’t get better, it gets sillier. And even though nature apparently abhors a vacuum, the identical cheese-hostesses keep sucking harder.
Clog, pony boy, clog!
Yeah, I’m back. Bow to the Riff Lord.
Thank yo momma for the vegetable beef soup. Good to see you back. 🙂
I’m glad to see you back as well, you make me laugh.
Ps. I’m a Brit
Welcome back (as in the theme from “Welcome Back Kotter”)
So, is this like emptybottle.lite?
Yay! I lay prostrate at the feet of the Riffster. I genuflect in your direction. I leave the tears of joy on my face for all to see my overwhelming happiness at the return of the Lord. I run around the room and hug everybody, even those I don’t know, in sheer elation.
Uh, in other words, welcome back. And what yhbc said.
Ah, heck, that ‘bow to the Riff Lord’ thing is just an old chestnut I pull out when I’m trying to puncture my own near-impermeable Arrogance Membrane (insane in the membrane)…
Thanks for the welcomes back, although, in case no one noticed (yeah, right) I did squeeze out this post in the wake of a vodkafueled photoshop session, and for some now-forgotten reason decided to bed the result down in a nice billowy nest of only slightly random words. I’m still all conflicted about this blogging thing, and thus the simple-ass storefront remains, as The Commish suggests, and it’s emptybottle.lite for the moment.
A brainstorm will eventually build, hopefully, and I’ll reinvent, in PhoenixChicken style. Until then, sporadic missives from the front lines in the War on Things That Piss Me Off will probably be the best I can do…
Again, thanks for sticking around, everyone. Or at least everyone who did stick around. The rest of you can go stick your head in a pig.
Heh.
For what it’s worth (ie sweet fuck all), I prefer the “lite” layout. Looks much cleaner.
Give a pig some head? No thanks.