Why?

I don't really have anything funny to say here; I figured I would just write what comes to mind. At about 7pm on Memorial Day five people were shot at Southshore Park in Milwaukee. Two of those people died. One was only 17 years old. At the time of the shooting I was at my best friend's house not even 500 feet away. Apparently an argument took place prior to the shooting. The gunman then left and got a gun, returned, and opened fire into a crowded park. Why?

Someone had to go and tell this kid's mother that her son was killed in a park where he was celebrating Memorial Day. Someone has to tell her that it all started with a fucking argument. Over what? I have no clue. It doesn't matter. It shouldn't fucking matter. Apparently, though, it did, and now Milwaukee is left with its most violent Memorial Day in recent memory and the lives of two people have vanished. Why? Because someone decided that an argument is best solved by ending the lives of two people and forever changing the lives of countless others?

What could possibly be so angering that this guy had to go and get a gun - physically remove himself from the park and return with the intent to kill - and pull the trigger? I don't understand.

I don't know any of the victims. I'll probably never know any of them, but what I saw today is with me now forever. I watched as one of the survivors, drenched in his own blood, was placed in an ambulance and taken away. I watched a woman sob as she was questioned by the police. I watched as the two bodies were taken away to be placed in a fucking freezer at the morgue. Someone had to go identify the bodies tonight. People's lives have been ruined, and it all took less than 2 minutes.

This is one of those moments that should make me stop and appreciate my life, but all I can think about is what must have been going through that kid's head as his life was ended by a piece of shit with a gun and the inability solve his problems without violence. All I can think about is that kid's mother and the wife and children of the other guy that was killed.

Someone will inevitably try to find a glimmer of hope in this massive and unnecessary shitstorm. I can't believe that there is one. Right now it is 3am, I can't sleep, and all I can think about is how unnecessary it all was. Why did this happen?

Why?

Politics Cooked Right (Or Left, or to the Middle, or Who Gives a Fuck? They're All Wrong Anyway)

I hate politics. I hate politics because I know enough about it to see through the bullshit for what it really is - professional ass-kissing. This will be the first and last time I ever post about politics or my political views. Let me start by clarifying my opinions on some of the major political figures in America. Here goes:

1. George W. Bush - Dumbest man to ever run this country. I'm fairly certain he can't operate an automatic garage door let alone the most powerful nation in history. He is a moron without a clue.

2. John Kerry - He is a moron with no ideas. I'm very sorry, but this inept piece of shit would have trouble operating that same garage door.

3. Hilary Clinton - Too easy, next.

4. Barack Obama - Everyone probably thinks I'm going to kiss this guy's ass. Wrong. I guarantee he has a dead hooker in his closet or snorted a mile of blow.

5. Al Gore - Yawn. Next.

6. Russ Feingold - Fuck this dirty little cum rag. Everyone with any liberal leanings is lining up to lick this guy's nutsack. I live in the state that this douche represents and I've yet to see anything substantive in return for Wisconsin. Do I think our government should be more transparent? Of course. Do I think think Russ Feingold is an attention-whoring bitch on a stick? You bet.

There you have it. In a nutshell, I hate all politicians. I have my political theory boiled down to a single sentence. If you have made it far enough in politics to run for any major office you have kissed so many asses and distanced yourself so far from the average American that you cannot possibly represent the interests of those people. Politicians are indebted only to those who contribute to their campaigns and special interests groups that carry enough sway to make said politicians worry about the future status of their positions as "elected" officials.

I can't lay the blame for the sad state of political affairs in our nation squarely on the shoulders of the politicians, though. In America today the majority of people want things taken care of by others. It is much easier to say "Senator Assbag McDouche from Wisconsin is looking out for my interests and he'll take care of me" than it is to think and act for oneself. People give up freedom and control of their lives and thoughts much too readily. Those who think that the government is looking out for the little guy are drinking the Kool Aid that Rush Limbaugh - that dirty scrote-sniffing, puppy-raping, hillbilly-heroin eating, cock monger Rush Limbaugh - likes to talk about on his wonderful and insightful talk show (even sarcastically calling his show insightful hurts to write). Mmmmm, that's some mighty tasty bullshit that everyone is being fed.

Does this mean that I have the solution to this problem? Of course not, because that would mean that I would have this narrowed down to a single amendable problem. The fact of the matter is that this place is severely fucked up and in need of many major changes. And I don't have the answers. Oh shit, wait. I found the answers. Here they are:

1. Burn down Congress. I know it seems drastic, but it has to be done. Of course all of the currently elected politicians will be required to attend an emergency meeting of Congress on the day we torch the place, but that's only natural.

2. People are required to take some type of reasoning and intelligence test before they comment on the state of affairs in the world. The next time someone says "Git 'er Done" when referring to the debacle in Iraq I will simply explode. Seriously, I will blow up with the force of fifty tons of dynamite. In fact, the next person to say that, period, will be on the receiving end of my fist.

3. George W. Bush is required to eat only pretzels for the rest of his term as president. You see what I'm insinuating here? Do ya? Do ya? No? Ahhh fuck it, nevermind.

4. Fuck it, let's just make George Carlin president. At least the State of the Union speech will be amusing.

So, the next time you think you have the right answer when it comes to politics, keep it to yourself. You are wrong. I am wrong. We are all wrong. Why? Easy. This country is fucked up beyond quick and simple repair. The people running it are just a step above functionally retarded. The people living in it are straddling that line, too. Let's all just agree to shut up and bite the pillow as we take it in the ass for another two years from our current president. Maybe after that we'll elect someone who knows what he or she is doing.

Who the fuck am I kidding, the next president will be a fuck up as well. Stupid fucking political arena. If I was old enough to run for president I would totally do . . . ahhhhh, almost fell into that one. What a country. Fuck.

An Open Letter to the Jesus Freaks on the Corner of 16th and Wisconsin Ave and in Front of the Marquette University Library.

Dear Religiously Oppressive Asshole,

I would first like to thank you for taking time out of your day, or rather everyday, to berate me for what you perceive to be my fatal flaw - the fact that I am an atheist. I cannot tell you how good it feels to have dumbasses like you pointing out my shortcomings. I'm starting to see it all clearly now. It's all coming to me. OH! SAVE ME JESUS! THE LUNATIC ON THE CORNER TOLD ME THAT YOU ARE GOD!! I'VE BEEN SO WRONG!!

Look, I don't care what you believe. In fact, if believing in a god makes you live a better, happier life then I am all for it. I don't believe in god. I'm not going to suddenly turn a 180 and dedicate my life to the church because some halfwit told me I'm going to hell if I don't submit my life to an invisible man in the sky.

But you, Mr. Psycho on the Corner of 16th and Wisconsin, have nothing on the complete waste of life that stands across the street from the library. This guy is a work of art. For simplicity's sake, I will just call you Mr. Ignorant Dipshit Super-Conservative Know-Nothing Cum Stain. You know as well as I do that the women of Marquette University love it when you call them whores and inject your narrow-minded commentary into their already hectic and stressed out lives. Where would we be without morally superior people like you. And the sign you hold - absolutely brilliant. "Jesus Hates Unsubmissive Wives" you say? "Jesus Hates Fags and Porno Freaks" huh? Well, I don't know about that. I've never met the guy, and I'm pretty sure you haven't either, but wasn't one of this guy's main teachings to LOVE EVERYONE, YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT?!?!? But I guess that guy has probably read the Bible four or five times, so he's the expert not me. I wonder if there is anything in there about hating people with more money than I have, because I would really like to burn one of those bastards at the stake and take his money. What? I'll just say he was a witch or something. That'll fly. It won't? Why? BECAUSE WE'VE MOVED PAST THAT IGNORANT PERIOD IN OUR HISTORY? That can't be.

Ultimately, I don't give a flying fuck what anyone chooses to believe. I am a big believer in people coming to conclusion on their own terms. That means thinking things through and making your OWN decision. If you believe in god, great. I don't. You are certainly not going to change my mind by threatening me with eternal damnation. I already live in Wisconsin, I guarantee I've seen worse. So please, both of you numbnuts, just leave me alone when I'm walking on campus. I don't want to deal with you. So far I've been pretty nice, but I am rapidly approaching the point where I either push you in front of a bus or impale you with a broken cross. Either way, god isn't going to help you when I kick your ass back to the Holy Land. Fuck. Now I'm pissed. And it was such a good day. Stupid Jesus.

Love,
Michael

Dear Crackhead that Always Asks Me for Money, I got a Job Today, did You?

Today is a monumental day in the history of this week of my life. Today I got a job. This is not a McDonald's job or one working at the Home Depot (nothing wrong with H.D.), I'm working for a fairly prestigious law firm in the area. Before I go any further, I think I should state this: I hate the idea of being a lawyer and I will never become one, but I love the idea of being paid like one this summer. Hypocritical? Well. . . only if you look at the facts, but fuck that.

Let me repeat: I. GOT. A. JOB. I think it's fair to say that if Jimi Hendrix miraculously rose from the grave and came to party with me he would be so impressed that he would buy the qualuudes and barbiturates for the night. Also, if a beautiful woman wants to provide me with sexual gratification as a token of her respect and admiration she is more than welcome to; however, there is a line so she'll probably have to take a number.

Today is a great day, but it almost certainly could be better. In fact, here is a list of things that could make this day even better:

1. The entire state of Illinois burns to the ground in a freak, statewide campfire accident.

2. The University of Wisconsin ceases to exist. Along with everyone attending the UW Moscow.

3. Chris Berman shuts the hell up on Baseball Tonight. (The next time he refers to the Detroit Tigers as "The Motor City Kitties" I will dispatch a hitman.)

4. Anna Kournikova contacts me in regards to starring alongside her in her upcoming porn shoot.

5. I find a quarter in the street.

6. That quarter is lodged in the windpipe of the crackhead that always hits me up for money on my way to class.

7. I eat a really good sandwich.

8. I find 800+ pages of the lost works of William Faulkner.

9. Guinness always makes the day better.

10. I hit the close elevator button as someone is running up to it with their arms full.

11. Marquette University decides to cap tuition instead of raising it another $14,000 AND we rightfully change our name back to Warriors.

12. I fall asleep tonight surrounded by 37 sexually satisfied young women, all of whom beg me for the opportunity to make me breakfast in the morning.

13. The sports guy from Channel 4 news dies in a freak teleprompter accident. God he fucking blows.

There you have it. Today is good, it probably could be better, but I'm not complaining. More likely than not I will be drinking enough to kill a small horse tonight. Watch out Milwaukee, I'm probably going to be breaking shit tonight. Most likely windows and the jaws of small orphan children.

Racists and Assorted Dumbasses

A few days ago I saw the Da Vinci Code. It's a decent flick (yes, I've read the book, too) and I love the fact that so many Christians are flipping their shit because of it. I can completely understand, though. I mean, it's not as if it's a work of fiction or anything. After leaving the movie I stopped at a gas station to pick up various things sold at gas stations. As I waited in line with five or six other people I overheard the cock-gobbling teenager at the front of the line mocking the clerk, who happened to be of Indian descent. He made fun of his accent, dropped a few stereotypical lines, and concluded his purchase with "thank you, come again" like Apu from the Simpsons. This made a few of the people in line laugh. Now, like everyone that doesn't have their nuts in a vice-grip I can appreciate the humor in some racial jokes that poke fun at commonly held stereotypes. This kid was different, though. He was trying to be cruel, so I called him out on it.

Me: "What's your problem? Do you know how ignorant you sound?"
Stupid fucking kid: "What?"
Me: "Why are you being such an ass? That guy didn't deserve that."
S.F.K: "Fuck you, man. You know you laughed."
Me: "No, I didn't, you racist little bastard."
S.F.K: "Fuck you."
Me: "Only if you give me a reach around. Fuck, I hate people like you. Get the fuck away from me."
S.F.K: "Fuck you."
Me: "Fuck you? Is that all you have to say. You are the reason abortion is legal in this country."
. . . and so on.

My biggest problem in all of this wasn't even the little bigot I called out. When I reached the front of the line and told the clerk what an ass that little bastard was being the woman behind me - one of the people who had laughed while this kid was making fun of the clerk - told me that she also thought he was acting inappropriately. SHE HAD JUST LAUGHED AT THIS KID'S ANTICS NOT EVEN THIRTY SECONDS PRIOR AND NOW SHE WANTS TO CLAIM MORAL SUPERIORITY. FUCK HER! I kindly asked her to shut the hell up because, as far as I was concerned, she was no better than that kid. The clerk agreed with me and then did one of the funniest and most appropriate things I have ever seen - he refused to let her make her purchase. She left her stash of Twinkies and licorice on the counter and stormed out of the gas station. Priceless. Absolutely brilliant.

This all raises an important question for me, though. Namely, why do people continue to be so overtly racist? Maybe I'm simplifying this too much, but as far as I'm concerned every person, black, white, purple, neon green, whatever, has an equal opportunity to piss me off. Or impress me. Or cause me to be indifferent. But the fact remains that I know enough to understand that I don't know jack shit about any single person until I've met and talked with them. Why is it so hard for people to reserve judgment about people until after getting to know said person? Look, I think black and Mexican jokes can be funny because, at the appropriate time, some stereotypes can be humorous. If someone tells me a joke highlighting a white stereotype and it's funny, you can bet your ass I will laugh. I swear to Christ this country is getting dumber with each passing day. Someday, though, people will wake up and begin to think things through. I'm sure of it. It will happen, I know it. . . Oh fuck it, who am I kidding? We'll always have dumbasses like the kid in the gas station. But then at least I'll always have idiots to call out in public. Damn.

Allow Myself to Describe Myself

I recently received my first comments regarding my species' extinction post. Let me be very clear about this: I absolutely love to hear feedback about my writing. I don't give two shits if it is the most inane drivel I have ever tried to decipher, the fact remains that if people take time to write comments they more often than not have at least skimmed through my writing. As an aspiring writer, as well as an English major, I cannot begin to describe how cool that is, and as a service to the three of you reading my weblog I'd like to take this opportunity to talk about my favorite subject: me.

I was born December 17, 1985 in Milwaukee, WI. The doctor who delivered me has gone on record as saying that I had "the largest penis [he] had ever seen" and that "within an hour [he] feared for [his] life" because I was quite the infant badass. Then I grew up. Now I attend Marquette University where I study English and Economics in hopes of finding a job for which I can regularly show up late and slack off.

I enjoy rock climbing, playing the guitar, beautiful women, and anything else that I have listed in my profile. One of my favorite things to do, though, is use large and obscure words when conversing with people. Is it because I'm a dick? Possibly. Is it because I'm smarter than most people? Of course. Is it because I want to make sure everyone knows how intelligent I am? You better believe it. Is this indicative of some sort of inferiority complex? Quit asking such intrusive fucking questions.

The real reason I wrote this post, though, is to address something that was said to me in those much-appreciated comments. "K" Fingerett (whose weblog "Another Fingerett" is actually quite well written and very diverse in content, check it out) told me that after reading my posts I seemed to her to be a very angry person. The fact of the matter is, however, that I have never been happier in my entire life. The reason I sound or seem so angry is that the ideas I had for my first few posts were angry rants about things I had observed or thought about, not because I am generally an angry person. Also, I think I possess a rather eloquent writing style, which does not seem to lend itself to angry, profanity-laced tirades. By merging an articulate style with childish humor and profanity I feel like I produce something different and funnier than the usual writing I, or anyone for that matter, encounter. Now, does this mean that from here on out its all puppy dogs and roses? No fucking way. The funniest stuff I produce is angry and full of swearing and jokes about fat women and stupid people, but that does not mean that I write only in that vein. I will post serious thoughts from time to time and I may even post something sad or (the horror!) emotionally gripping. However, if you think that I'm going to stop writing about animals I want to maim or taking a shit the size of a small hippo you are sorely mistaken.

Please, everyone, anyone, someone, continue with the comments. Tell me what you think is funny. More importantly, tell me how I can improve. Writing may be personal therapy, but it's better and more meaningful when it's read by someone else. And seriously, check out "K" Fingerett's weblog. I'm serious. Don't try me. It will end bad for you if you don't read it. Go now. Fuck.

The Eradication of Your Species

One of the things I would like to do more than anything else is be the responsible party for the extinction of some type of animal. If I was the man who heroically took out the last of the dangerous dodo birds I would certainly capitalize on it and you can bet your ass that I would end up with my own reality television show as a result. My show, however, would consist entirely of me kicking both the reality and living shit out of any other reality TV "star." I'm calling it Survivor - Star Meeting Ass Kick Edition. Think about it. I will be responsible for the extinction of reality television stars. Joe Rogan wouldn't be such a smart-ass piece of fuck after he is forcibly sodomized by the nearly extinct Orangutan that I stole from the zoo. Motherfucker. I'm getting off track, though. I've been thinking about this, and though it would be impracticle to think that I could cause the extinction of every species, I think I could take out the most worthless ones. Here are some other species I would like to personally wipe from memory.

1. The Dodo bird.
I know what you're thinking. I do. You're thinking "wow, he just used the correct form of 'you're' twice in a row." You would be right. But you would be wrong, as well, because the Dodo is already extinct. Well don't worry, I'm bringing that little bastard back for one more ass-kicking. That's right, my first candidate for eradication is already gone. Jesus fuck, my ideas are so far beyond genius they've reverted to stupid. Next stupid animal:

2. The Giraffe.
In all seriousness, this is the most worthless animal in existence. What does it do? Anyone? Anyone have an answer? Hmmmmm. What a complete waste of space. By default the world is a dumber and more inefficient place as a result of the existence of the giraffe. Does it even provide food for a more deserving animal? No. It probably tastes like shit to lions and bears and vampire bats anyway. Stupid fucking giraffe. I want them out of the species race. Gone. Next animal I want to personally extinguish:

3. The Badger.
Fuck the University of Wisconsin. Your animal can't fly. Suck it, badger. Your time is up. Next:

4. The Born Again Christian.
Just. Go. Away. Please. I promise not to stay angry if you just go away and stop telling me anything about god. Please, just leave me the fuck alone you senseless waste of grey matter. The next time one of these pickle-lickers tells me I don't believe in god because I haven't heard or learned enough about him I think I will quietly light myself on fire. Next worthless creature:

5. The Liger.
Bred for its magical powers, huh? How about extinct because too many stupid people are beside themselves with joy when they learn that it's a real animal? Hooray! Next soon-to-be-dead animal:

6. FIBs.
If you have ever seen anyone from Illinois drive you will understand why they need to go. Next:

7. People
Just end us all. I think our collective studipidity is really getting out of hand.

There you have it. The authoritative and comprehensive list of animals that need to be eradicated for the betterment of mankind and the preservation of the earth. Obviously, George Bush belongs on the list, but I decided that it went without saying because, I mean, come on, seriously. Oh fuck it, nevermind. God, he's stupid.

This I Promise You

As someone who is new to writing a weblog, I feel it is important to be transparent with my creative vision as it pertains to this page. Also, I will try to be as wordy and condescending as I possibly can in an effort to make the three people reading this feel even less intelligent than they already must feel. Anyway, I present to you my list of promises in regards to my future posts:

1. I will never use the word "blog." Ever. It's stupid. Next.

2. Since I've already stated that I will twist the English language in as many ways as I possibly can in order to confuse you it would be pointless to restate it. I have not told you, however, that I will also use as many long and obscure words as possible. Obviously, this is my way of punishing you for being less intelligent than I am and for wasting your time reading the incoherent babble I write here. If you made it to the end of this promise I applaude you. Next.

3. I will make lots of jokes about kicking babies and small children. Does this mean that I don't like babies or small children? No, quite the contrary. Does this mean that jokes about kicking babies and small children are funny? Of course it does. Next.

4. I will probably swear. A lot. But not in this promise. Next fucking promise.

5. I will write about nothing important to the state of world affairs. I will offer no reasonable solutions for the problems I bring to light in any particular rant on this page. Also, I will make fun of fat women as often as is needed. And that is often. Very often. Next.

6. Jokes about retarded people? You better fucking believe it. Next.

7. Weekly observations about the OC, Project Runway, and the Queer Guy show? Only if I wake up to find myself castrated. I'll put the odds at even right now. Get your bets in. Next.

8. There is no next promise. I find it impossible to make plans more than an hour in advance and the fact of the matter is that I will break each of these promises whenever it suits my purposes.

Next.

Crackhead Fever

If you don't know me, and god-willing you don't, but would like to know more about me, it is important to know that I have a certain fondness for the crack-bums that live in Milwaukee, especially on or around the Marquette University campus. Almost daily these beacons of hope for the homeless community take time out of their day to ask me for money. How blessed can one man be? Often, though, they are so cracked out or withdrawn from being cracked out that they make very little sense when trying to verbalize their desires for a "sandwich." Needless to say, these encounters often give me the opportunity to poke fun at the less fortunate and ridicule them for sucking the glass dick. The fact remains, though, that I really do love these guys (and occasionally women, though they often resemble men) and if they are honest about what they intend to do with the money they ask from me (i.e. buy crack, a hooker, booze, a colo-rectal screening) I will usually give them something. Even if I can only give a quarter I will do so because I feel a certain connection with the crackhead community. Except that I don't smoke crack. Or suck dicks for crack. Or kill other crackheads for crack. Or live on the street. Or ask strange people for money. Other than that, though, I am just like these noble, modern urban nomads. Such a proud and industrious people.

More Bang for Your Sister

Before starting this momumental task of providing my thoughts about the world, I feel it is important to take a rough estimate of some of the statistics and data I expect to be associated and generated from this "blog," which is, quite honestly, the stupidest pseudo-word/phrase in circulation. Worse than "ginormous" or even "green-beer." Regardless, on to the stats:

0-2 - Number of readers (total) that I expect to read this piece of shit.

4 - Times I will write on this page before I say "fuck it" because nobody wants to read anything I have to write here.

75-1000 - Number of angsty emo kids I will ridicule in a single, probably incoherent rant to be posted in the future.

5 - Number of times I've scratched my balls since I started writing.

6 - I just scratched them again after I wrote that last sentence because writing about scratching my balls made me want to scratch them again.

20 - My age.

0.00001% - Percentage of the world that gives a shit what a 20 year old has to say.

99.99999% - Percentage of the world that can fuck itself. Also, this doubles as the percentage of people I meet who lack the intelligence to work a ball-point pen or remember to breath.

18 - Holes on a golf course.

98, 2 - Degrees Fahrenheit and number of wet holes, respectively, on the ideal woman.

2 - Number of times I wrote the word "balls." It's always good to end on a high note.