People Who Deserve a Heinous Beating, Volume II

If that offended you, I was kidding!

Then again,… I can understand. I can be an annoying, offensive asspipe.

Baseball season has started once again,… and I’ll have less time to be that annoying guy everybody loves to dump on. It’s okay, I’ll be back as soon as the Rays drop out of contention – which looks like it’ll be sooner in the season than anyone in the Tampa Bay area will be happy about,…. Except the transplanted Yankee and Red Sox fans,… the fucking douchebags. Seriously,… all Yankee fans are jagoffs,… every one of them. They’re everywhere, too…. Here’s something to think about next time you’re toodling around town,… if you see someone wearing a cap and jersey with Yankee shit on it, they’re going to smell like they bathed in really crappy cologne,… also, look at their neckline,… there’ll be a dangly cross necklace resting gently on a tuft of dark chest hair poking out at the top,… and those are the girls.

But before we move on to the purpose for which we have all come to this crazy little wing of the interwebs, I again feel the need to precipitate this episode with a small caveat,… a little “Surgeon General’s Warning” of my own (Nobody smokes cigarettes anymore, John,… outdated reference, jacknut.)…. Do NOT take this installment seriously at all! Do NOT take anything in this blog chapter to imagine that I am actually advocating any type of real, physical harm directed toward anyone. This recurring storyline is solely an effort to entertain,… and by the way,… I don’t get nearly enough thanks from you fuckers who are reading this,… I do this all for you out of the goodness of my own heart,… there’s no upside for me here at all,…. Anyway,… the point here is,… don’t do ANYTHING that you read in this blog! Someone might get hurt,… and if someone does, I’ll be hoping it’s you. Silly shithead.

So,… in honor of baseball season and the most obnoxious, shit-consuming fans anywhere in the world – well, that might be a little strong,… there are those soccer thugs around the world (and, yes, soccer fans,… that’s the name of your sport,… soccer,… not football,… Americans are always right),… then again, never mind,… Yankee fans still suck worse – I here at the blog proudly present to you, “People Who Deserve a Heinous Beating, Volume II.

You know who deserves a heinous beating? The Florida House of Representatives. For those of you who may have missed this little news-type nugget, a member of the Florida House was comparing government’s willingness to further de-regulate business while at the same time more stringently regulating a woman’s power over her own body. He made his point by saying something to the effect that for his wife to have more control over her reproductive choices she would have to “incorporate her uterus.” Well, that got some people hackles up because there might have been a few teenage pages working the floor at the time he said it. So the representatives were told to refrain from using the word “uterus.” “UTERUS!” Fucking really? This guy brings up a very salient point in a very clever manner, and the bottom line is nobody is allowed to use word “uterus” anymore? Shame on you, Florida House. That’s a really shitty example to set for the pages that might be working there, actually. “Hey, kids. Umm,… we’re going to willingly allow ourselves to be censored in clear violation of our Constitutional First-Amendment rights, just so you kids won’t be exposed to any discussion of reproductive organs in clearly, clinical anatomical verbiage. And, as an extra added bonus, we’re going to do it in an actual government setting where real laws and policies are discussed, debated, and voted upon.” Somebody ought to chase them all around with a stick! Fuck you, Florida House! Kiss my uterus!

You know who else should get a red-hot, alcohol-soaked razor blade shoved in their eyeballs? People who look at my ankle tattoo and ask me why I have teddy bears tattooed on myself. (For those of you who might not know, I have two-inch tall Grateful Dead dancing bears marching in a circle around my leg…. Also,… why don’t you know me? I ain’t good enough for you?) Seriously, people? I can almost understand my kid’s friends because they’re still in high school. But then again,… shouldn’t they at least have been exposed to the Dead by now,… at least to the extent that they would recognize the dancing bears? You can tell me you’re not a fan of their music,… personal choice and all (even I thought they hit a dud with “Go To Heaven,”)… but how the fuck can you reach adulthood and not have at least seen this shit before? Where the fuck have you been? What’s gotten your attention all these years that you’re this fucking ignorant? Get stuffed.

Here’s another guy who should have his necktie shoved into a woodchipper with him following closely behind,… Michael Moore. Personally, I could give a shit about your politics. I thought “Roger and Me” was relatively entertaining. “Bowling for Columbine” was stretching it more than a little. But my point is not about his films or his points-of-view. It’s his consistently shitty personal appearance. Mike! Time to fix yourself just a little, bubby. You’ve been carrying around a few dozen extra pounds for a long while now. Push away from the buffet, and you’ll still be okay, I promise,…. Mix in a fucking salad every now and then. And you’re not doing yourself any favors with the khaki cotton dockers, sneakers, ball cap, and windbreaker look. Holy shit, did your mother dress you today, you goofy, over-aged whining baby?

I know I’m missing a whole shit-ton of douchebags in this episode,… so, I can guarantee that we’ll revisit this topic again soon. And, remember, I’m still soliciting ideas about what types of shit I should write about. Tell me what you’d like to see here, and we’ll see if we can’t accommodate it. “Friend” me on facebook, if you’re interested. Look for another episode in the next week or so. More god damn free entertainment on the way, you fucking leeches.

Until next time, bitches,….

UTERUS!

Next Time: That Day in 1994