SUE EVERYBODY!

Next time you are a victim of crime, just sue the police, folks. No, I'm not even kidding - go ahead, it's akin to what is happening in Connecticut.

A $100 million claim on behalf of a 6-year-old survivor is the first legal action to come out of the Connecticut school shooting

...

The unidentified client, referred to as Jill Doe, heard "cursing, screaming, and shooting" over the school intercom when the gunman, 20-year-old Adam Lanza, opened fire, according to the claim filed by New Haven-based attorney Irv Pinsky.

"We all know its going to happen again," Pinsky said on Friday. "Society has to take action."

...

Pinsky's claim said that the state Board of Education, Department of Education and Education Commissioner had failed to take appropriate steps to protect children from "foreseeable harm."

It said they had failed to provide a "safe school setting" or design "an effective student safety emergency response plan and protocol."^[1]

We all know that robberies happen every single day, as do burglaries, so why not sue the police? Clearly they know it's going to happen again. Society, and you, the crime victim, have to take action! 

And why stop at the police? Sue the the leasing company/landlord/real estate agent... That's not much more bizarre than what is going on here. No, wait, the DOE is named? Oh, then why not sue the construction company that built it, too!?

There's no end in sight! We could sue so, so, so many people! The people who made the door or window the person broke in through is responsible, too! And if the criminal walked across the grass, the groundskeepers in your community are responsible? If you don't have groundskeepers, why not sue the people who made the grass seed that grew the grass! And hell, that grass needed water, so sue the water company, too!

Surely, if you are robbed, the criminal(s) needed to get there somehow. Who made the car they used? Sue them! Sue the city/county/state for constructing the roads they drove on! SUE EVERYBODY!

And make sure, just to be sure, ask for an absurd sum... You're not doing it right if you don't.

1. Source

T-Dog: The Story of America

T-Dog was an African-American male. T-Dog lived in Atlanta, Georgia, like many African-American men. By all accounts, T-Dog was an average African-American male. However, the story of T-Dog is a tragedy. 

The tragedy of T-Dog is that he was like so many other African-American males: He was taken to prison, where he lived out his (far too short) life, ultimately dying within the system.

In America, 1 in 15 African American men are in prison. Many of them will live out their lives in prison via life sentences, or because of repeated offenses. Most of these people will die in the system. Many blame the criminal justice system: prosecutors deliver harsher sentences on AA men, and police officers are less lenient as well. T-Dog was no different - he was forced by a white sheriff into a prison.

T-Dog in what might've been his
mug shot.

Statistics this year suggested that young African American males only have an employment rate of 33%. That means that 67% of them are unemployed. T-Dog was one of the 67%. Like many African-American males of today, T-Dog simply lacked opportunities - there were no jobs where T-Dog lived.^[1]

Ultimately, his friends painted a great picture of him. One spoke of him as a hero, "T-Dog wasn't a bad guy - when tragedy struck his community,^[2] he drove his van around to help the elderly."

In the end, ultimately, it didn't matter that T-Dog was  hero - he was taken to prison by a white hick sheriff without any evidence of a crime even being committed. The tragedy here is that T-Dog had an all-too-common ending to his story - his story ended like so many other young African-American men in a zombie-apocalypsed America.

Can we change America? Can we make it better? Can we fix the justice system so it does not disproportionately harm any racial group? The choice is up to you, America.

Can we keep sheriffs from making rash decisions and acting like they are the ultimate in unquestionable, infallible authority? That choice, well that choice is up to you, Darryl, Hershel, Maggie, Glen, Carl, Beth, Michonne, Carrol, and Axel... And maybe Judith if she can talk.

1. Of course, if T-Dog hadn't been nomadic - moving from place to place - he might've had a better chance.

2. Some, like Reverend Pat Robertson, would say the tragedy struck due to the overwhelming acceptance of homosexuality in America. Also responsible: Feminists, lesbians, baby-killers/pro-choice people, sports fans, pornographers, gamblers, liberals, Barack Hussein Obama II.

Mind You. Moose Bites Can Be Nsaty...

Every time I see a picture of somebody eating a cheeseburger from McDonald's, I am completely dissuaded from eating anything else. I know it's horrible for me, but the picture just speaks to me and forces me to run out and buy it, neglecting all reasonable thoughts in my head. Photographs are powerful stuff, folks...

...at least that is what the government of Sweden would have you believe!

The Swedish government is concerned that images of babies on infant-formula packaging idealizes the product's use and might dissuade some mothers from breastfeeding -- the recommended choice by doctors, but not always a realistic option for many mothers.^[1]

This is what you get when you
Google "SHIT SANDWICH".
Despite the photo, I still don't
want to eat one!

Oh yeah, that makes sense! Gosh, no matter how educated the population of Sweden is, they're actually all beholden to graven images, right?! Nobody can resist the ultimate power of a photograph, whether digital or analog. Hell, when I see a derivative work from a traditional silver gelatin print, I can't resist whatever it is advertising. I don't care whether it is jeans/half-naked women and/or men (ala any clothing store at the mall) or a what, I HAVE to have that thing - the photograph told me so.

And if you think that's bad, you should try resisting the television - you just can't. When I see ads for Sonic, I just have to run out and buy some of their science-awful food, because by science, that television ad shows me people smiling and having fun while eating it - I surely can't trust myself.

^[2]

If I had one wish about this all, it is that my government would do something about it. Please protect me, President Obama and Congress - protect me from my own bad decisions and help me make healthy choices, because I'm too stupid to do it on my own...

Just like the people of Sweden.

1. Source
2. In fact, Monty Python's And The Holy Grail made moose bites sound so much fun that I ran right out to Sweden and let a moose bite me.

The Arrogant Raging Dork Effect

The Arrogant Raging Dork Effect is a completely horrible syndrome that effects millions of American nerds. It is also completely made up... But it might be a real thing!

TARDe is when a nerd of some fandom is so oddly affected by another fandom that it drives them to rage. I've seen people threaten to beat people up over certain things because they simply cannot grasp how someone can be comfortable enough with themselves to like ____.

I first became aware of TARDe in college when I heard an acquaintance talk about how he wanted to beat some "furry" up. I asked him "Why?"

He told me, "Because they're a fucking furry. What the fuck is wrong with them!? I should beat some sense in to them!"

And he was being honest about his feelings. The next time he saw that kid wearing his fursuit on campus (which, admittedly is a bit strange to me), he ran up and started shoving him.

Why did it matter that some dude was wearing a fursuit? It wasn't hurting him. I'll never understand it... And the worst part is that the aggressor here had a best friend that was a lesbian! How would he feel if she was attacked because she was being herself!? People attack homosexuals all of the time "because they're fucking gay. What the fuck is wrong with them!?"

And from there, I knew that people were fucking stupid. So, years have gone by and every once in awhile, I run across someone saying something like that again - and every time I just want to scream at them "WHY MAN? WHYYYYY?"

Tonight was no different!

Bronies are serious business... Apparently.

Look, I mean, I don't watch My Little Pony, but I really don't care if anybody does. Why would someone's simple life choice about a FUCKING CARTOON drive anybody to rage like this? I just don't get it. I absolutely DESPISE Family Guy (seriously, that show is fucking awful), but when my roommate turns it on, I don't even begin to think about grabbing my twelve gauge.^[1]

The most interesting thing here is that this guy is RAGING about somebody watching a cartoon that is made for kids. Okay, fine, not everybody does that... But I happened to click on his page and what did I find? Oh, just this:

A "sweet find from the thrift store" - his words, not mine.

Yeah, the guy bought a fucking Skeletor toy, and his mount... And has Mario in the background... And an NES, but he's mad that some people watch cartoons made for kids. Yeah, that fucking makes sense.

It all just DOESN'T MATTER. If someone watches My Little Pony, it matters not. If they're gay, who cares? If they're gay and watch My Little Pony, it won't hurt you. And if you're gay, dress up like a wolf and have sex after watching My Little Pony, well, call me... No, don't call me, but seriously, I don't give a fuck, and nobody else should either because it's not hurting them.

1. No, I only think that when he watches Aqua Teen Hunger Force

You Say To-mate-ooo, I Say To-mat-o, But Maintenance Men Don't Even Know What One Is.

In last week's edition of "Jude tells you why you are an idiot", we discussed when an outdoor chair becomes an indoor chair and why that can happen. This week's edition is similar as it contains some of the same characters ^[1]. Sit down with a beer and relax... Throw your shoes off (but not at your dog/cat/child^[2]) and read this here blog entry. Now it's time for me TO TELL YOU WHO IS STUPID AND WHY!

Tomatoes. Tomatoes are nature's little gem. Wikipedia says this about tomatoes:

The word "tomato" may refer to the plant (Solanum lycopersicum) or the edible, typically red, fruit that it bears.

As we see, it is a simple, yet effective, description of the wonderful little luscious fruit!

Further down on that very same page, Wikipedia notes an important thing about tomatoes:

At home, fully ripe tomatoes can be stored in the refrigerator, but are best kept at room temperature. Tomatoes stored cold will still be edible, but tend to lose flavor;^[28] thus, "Never Refrigerate" stickers are sometimes placed on tomatoes in supermarkets

Now, I thought that much about tomatoes was known by the average American citizen. However, I am apparently vastly overestimating^[3] the knowledge of some Americans!

On Friday night, members of the very same (in)competent team of maintenance men had to enter the apartment as there was some type of leak involving liquid on a ceiling tile in the hallway (it was all very gross). They soon fixed the problem and promised to come back to fix it. They have not been back to fix it, though one of them did stop in to let us know that "you shouldn't leave food on the counter like that as it'll go bad and rot and attract pests. You should probably put that in the refrigerator."

Store these in the fridge?
I'd sooner kiss a Wookie!

Well, thank you very much, Mr. Maintenance Man! I never knew that food had the ability to rot or attract pests! Luckily for me, folks, the food he was speaking of was, in fact, a bowl of freshly ripe tomatoes. Typically, at the current temperature and humidity, they won't come anywhere near rotting for at least two weeks. In that two week period, I can assure you that I will devour all of the luscious little gems that my patio garden has provided me, and thus they will never rot.

Apparently Mr. Maintenance Man doesn't know where tomatoes are supposed to be stored. Apparently Mr. Maintenance Man is an idiot when it comes to fresh fruit!^[4] Apparently, Mr. Maintenance Man just likes to tell me what do to, whether or not it makes any sense at all!

I think Mr. Maintenance Man should fuck off. But, since I know he won't, I'll just be printing out the Wikipedia page on tomatoes and highlighting the part about not storing them in the fridge. I'll probably tape the pages to the bowl.^[5]

1. Well, not the same per say, but associated ones!

2. Okay, maybe at your child - but only if they are misbehaving.

3. Or "misunderestimating" if you ask previous Presidents...

4. He is most likely a "rotting vegetable".

5. I imagine he'll call it "clutter" and write us up for a lease violation again, but oh well - fuck him.

When Is an Outdoor Chair NOT an Outdoor Chair?

Short answer: When you're dealing with presumptive maintenance persons who are too stupid to ask the important questions or investigate things up close!

What maintenance calls "AN
OBVIOUS NON-OUTDOOR
CHAIR!"

See that chair on the left? Most people would look at it and think, "Hey, that's a patio chair!", and they'd think that because they have an IQ over 65.^[1] People who don't bother to look closely at the chair probably would still think it's an outdoor chair, to be honest, since it is, in fact, OUTDOORS.

Before I explain who could possibly get this wrong, here is some back story:

So I'm just chillin' out, maxin', relaxin', actin' all cool doing some work at my computer desk on my day off when some old guy who was up to... I don't know what he was up to, but he was taking pictures of decks and patios in my neighborhood... Well, okay, he was specifically taking pictures of my deck. This seemed weird to me, so I stood up and made my way to the deck to ask him what he was doing. He saw me stand up, I guess, and turned around and walked back to his truck - a maintenance truck belonging the management company - and drove away. Perplexed, I figured I oughta go find out what was going on! Knowing full-well that reaching somebody on the phone in the maintenance office was harder than fitting a camel through the eye of a needle (or getting someone from PETA to shut up for five seconds), I chose to simply arrive at said office in person. And this is where my troubles began, friends...

So, there was a chair - the specific chair shown above and to the left in a picture. The chair I speak of is obviously an outdoor chair, and I think we can all agree on that. However, the maintenance people at my apartment complex, including the PROPERTY MANAGER, do not agree with that. Oh, they could find out for themselves, but instead they just take shitty photos with 6 megapixel point and shoot cameras from 30 feet away and say things like "LOOK, WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT'S WRONG WITH THE WAY YOUR DECK LOOKS? THERE IS A COOLER ON THERE! YOU CAN ONLY HAVE OUTDOOR ITEMS ON THE DECK! And what is this? Some sort of obvious non-outdoor chair! It looks like a dining room chair - why would you even have that out there?"

Of course, being that the man in question IS the property manager, he could've easily entered my apartment, went onto the deck and looked at it with his own two eyes (well, through his coke-bottle thick glasses, anyway) and clearly saw that it was PATIO FURNITURE (no shit: I bought it and the tag on the set said "PATIO FURNITURE $50"). Apparently, just assuming somebody is in violation of their lease is good enough for these idiots.

Oh, and the cooler - ha! The COOLER! It's not considered an outdoor item to them and it needs to be placed in the storage area of the building. I explained to them that I've spent a year trying to get a key to the storage area because mine doesn't work. They nicely offered to get me a new key, so they cut a key and gave it to me - but only after rudely questioning me as to whether or not I'm even a lease holder or if I'm illegally subletting because OMG if I don't have a functional key, I must be doing something wrong!

So, feeling triumphant, having explained to these people that the furniture is clearly outdoor furniture, and finally getting a working key for the storage area, I left! When I got home, I pulled out that key, shoved it into the lock and... Nothing happened. It works as good as my old key, which is to say "Not at all".

Fail!

1. To be fair, even someone with an IQ of 65 would get it.

Useless Americans (The True Story of How I Became a Super Hero)

I met a group of useless Americans today. There were at least 10 of them. They formed a long line of uselessness, which blocked up a T-intersection and caused a traffic headache. Why? Because ANARCHY IN THE U.S., THAT'S WHY! A small rock blocked a traffic line! A rock!^[1]

Now, this wasn't just any rock, folks... No, this was a special rock that brought rush hour traffic to a grinding halt. You see, this rock was huge! HUGE I tell you! It weighed a hefty sum of AT LEAST 25 pounds! AT LEAST!

It seems as though some awful driver crashed into a rock wall (whoops!) and knocked some rocks out, and this one particular one landed RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE LANE! This was HORRIBLE! It was okay at first, it seems, as the people were able to drive around it... But then, oh no! THEN... The worst thing in the world happened: TRAFFIC STARTED BACKING UP FROM THE STOP SIGN IN THE OPPOSING LANE. SOON THE PEOPLE COULDN'T DRIVE AROUND THE ROCK BECAUSE THERE WERE CARS IN THE OTHER LANE! WHAT WERE THEY TO DO!?

Well, I'll tell you, folks... Why? Because I'm a nice guy. These people... Formed a line. They formed a traffic line, to be exact, and it was at least 10 cars deep. Yep, they just sat there and hoped that the rock would magically sprout legs like something out of Harry Fucking Potter, and then it would walk the fuck off the goddamned road on its own. But guess what? I don't have to tell you this (I hope) - WE LIVE IN THE REAL WORLD AND HARRY POTTER IS A FICTIONAL... FICTIONAL... CHARACTER! So, while they were all waiting for Harry Potter to cast a spell or the Virgin Fucking Mary to show up and grant them a friggin' miracle, I was sitting there in the opposite lane thinking, "WOW, WHAT A BUNCH OF MORONS."

Now you're wondering, I know, "DID THIS HORRIBLE TRAVESTY AGAINST TRAFFIC PATTERNS EVER COME TO AN END?"

Why yes, folks, it did! It ended because there was a super hero present! With his awesome super powers, he was able to push the massive boulder from the roadway and allow traffic to continue on its merry little way. That super hero? It was me.

I figured that since nobody else had the motivation or intellectual know-how on how to get out and move a 20 pound rock from the road, I'd do it for them. And guess what? The first driver was REALLY thankful. HE THANKED ME SEVERAL TIMES WHILE DRIVING BY. Yep, it's great I was there! But hey, that's not all, nope!^[2] You see, the SECOND guy in line one-upped the first guy and actually said to me, "I WOULD'VE NEVER HAVE THOUGHT TO DO THAT!"

And there we have it, one American was thankful that somebody did a really simple thing that he could've done himself, and the next WOULDN'T'VE EVEN HAVE THOUGHT TO DO IT. This is America. This is hopeless.

1. It did not give a wrong time, however.

2. This is beginning to sound like one of those infomercials... I'm not going to offer you a second set of anything, though. I promise.

Arts & Craft Time at The Local Exxon

I just wanted a drink... On the way to work this morning, I stopped at an Exxon gas station. I do this sometimes to pick up a 20oz of Coke or a snack, etc, so it's pretty normal. Today, I stopped at the second such station on the way to work (there are two), after driving by the first and thinking "No, I'll wait". Waiting was a mistake. Now, I'm sure just about everybody reading this has stopped at a gas station and purchased a beverage before, and I'm also pretty sure that it was a REALLY, REALLY, REALLY easy thing to do. However, for me, it was not an easy thing to do - no, folks, I was subjected to mother fucking arts & crafts time when purchasing a beverage!

You see, my good friends and readers (and Romans? And countrymen?), when I pulled my last ratty Washington from my pocket, a corner tore off. Oh, this was no horrible tear^[1], it was simply 1/4" piece that ripped off the upper left corner. Sure, it was right through the "1", but it's not a big deal, right? Hell, I recall a bank having given me bills worse than this!^[2]

A mother fuckin' Washington!

I did what any ordinary person would do: I handed the minorly-damaged $1 bill to the cashier (along with 3 quarters and a nickel). She promptly took the 80 cents, and then looked up at me. This is when the fun began. This is when I realized I had left my glue stick and safety scissors at home. This is when I wanted to pound my head against a wall. This is when I wanted to go thirsty.

"I can't take that bill like that", the obviously moronic cashier informed me.

I was taken aback. I thought she was joking. I looked at her face - her expression didn't seem to be one of humor... What is going on?

I quickly replied, "What? Of course you can, it's barely damaged. I get dollars like that all of the time."

"No, it's ripped and it needs to be fixed," she said.

"Okay so can yo-", I muttered.

Cutting me off, the lady said, "No, you're going to fix it. I'm going to get you some tape and you are going to fix it, then I'll take it."

I was in serious shock now. I didn't know what to say. This lady was being serious. SHE REALLY WANTED TO PLAY ARTS AND CRAFTS WITH A DOLLAR BILL. I was hoping she'd bring back some glitter with the tape, and maybe some ribbon... Why stop at fixing it? Why not dress it up and make it all cutesy?

She brought the tape back to me and handed me a piece. I "fixed" the tear and handed it to her. I started to turn to leave, having had enough of this nonsense. However, before I could finish my one step to the right,^[3] I was yelled at.

It was the cashier again, informing me that the bill wasn't up to her high-horse standards. She spoke down to me like she were a teacher and I were a kindergarten student, "Honey, come on now! You know this isn't right! Is that what it's supposed to look like? Really now, you can do better than that! What is wrong with you!?"

I stared at her for a few seconds, while she held the bill, arm extended out towards me, expecting me to fix it. I sighed, took the bill and fixed it (there was a 1/16" gap when I had taped the pieces together - the horror!), handing it back to her.

She accepted the bill, said "That's much better, dear. It looks right this time unlike the first time! Thank you!", all in a completely condescending tone, and immediately turned and put it in the register.

I made sure to tell her "You're welcome" in the same condescending tone, and then ended up with "So that was the most idiotic customer service experience I've ever had."

Clearly, I was dealing with an expert crafter. She's probably won Craft Wars or something and was offended that I didn't recognize her. I probably should've apologized to her FOR LEAVING MY SMOCK AND GLUE STICKS AT HOME! ...or maybe she just feels powerless at her low paying job and needed to get over on somebody. Either way, fuck that lady... I can honestly say that it was the second-worst customer service experience I've ever had, and that's only because I've been to McDonald's before.

1. ...but it was apparently a terror for the cashier.
2. Click on the photo to see the extent of the damage. That red line indicates exactly where the rip occurred.
3. There was no jump to the left.

Oh, Canada!

Apparently, a host of conservative Americans have threatened to move to Canada in the wake of the SCOTUS ruling on "Obamacare".^[1]

We must now ask ourselves this: "Why?"

Why would these people, who claim to hate the "socialism" that America is now under, go to a country that has even more of it? Why would these staunch conservatives go to a place that is rife with progressive policies and controlled markets? My friends, I believe they have missed many civic lessons in their lives or are simply confused about geography. You see, folks, they don't want to go NORTH, they want to go SOUTH!

These folks would be happiest in Mexico. Mexico lacks real government control (independent enterprises are currently running the country), has cheap healthcare which is NOT socialized, and has plenty of guns. These people would LOVE Mexico!

Once in Mexico, they could start their new lives working from the bottom up in a drug cartel - a true free-market enterprise devoid of any government regulation! While in the drug cartel, they will get a chance to shoot guns at least once a week, and maybe even more importantly to many of them: THEY'LL FINALLY GET TO SHOOT MEXICANS.

So, let's recap:

1. No socialized medicine.

2. Free-market economy.

3. Guns.

4. Get to shoot Mexicans.

What more can these fuckers ask for?

Oh, I just remembered one more thing: Plenty of devout religious folks down there. Really now, it's perfect for a majority of American conservatives!

As they say in your new country, conservatives: Adios amigos!

1. http://www.huffingtonpost.ca/2012/06/28/supreme-court-health-care-move-to-canada_n_1634157.html

Everybody loves their local motor vehicles office!

No matter what state you are from, I know you absolutely ADORE going to your motor vehicles registration office (whatever it may be called). Who doesn't? It's a fun social center where you get to sit for hours and talk with the dredges of society (i.e. the employees). And, as it turns out, there is no better place to do this than Alabama!

When Carmen Vélez tried to renew her car tag in Athens, Ala., she was told she needed to show her birth certificate.

She had not brought it because she didn’t think it was necessary. She returned later with two copies—and older copy and a newer one. The attendant refused to accept them, saying she need a U.S. birth certificate.^[1]

What?
WHAT?
WHAT?
WHAT?
WHAT?

I don't even know where to begin! Puerto Rico (shown left), isn't part of the US? Since when?

Jones–Shafroth Act was signed in 1917 or so, and it officially made Puerto Rican folks US Citizens. Somehow, 95 years later, this idiot at the Alabama's motor vehicle location doesn't know this. Okay, fine, one person doesn't know this. That's not a big deal, except y'know, she works in a pretty important office and basically controls people's ability to do many things in life.

The other exception to that is this:

Carmen tried to explain that Puerto Rico is part of the United States, but it seemed futile. She became upset. Finally, the attendant asked for another form of identification. She took Carmen’s driver’s license and told her to wait.

She waited for two hours with her 5-year-old son. “Everyone was looking at me like I had two heads.”

Finally, the attendant appeared after speaking with another official.

“She called me back up and said we’ll take a copy of your birth certificate, but next year when you come in you’ll have to have a birth certificate from the U.S.”

Yes, the idiot left for TWO HOURS to discuss whether or not Puerto Ricans were US Citizens. Then, after discussing the situation with what we can only assume is the second dumbest person in the office, she came back and basically said, "We are going to let you slide... This time!"

Well, gee golly, thanks! I'm sure Senorita Vélez was very excited to be getting a break! You know what break she should've gotten? The breaking of that idiot woman's nose. I support the legal right to punch that motor vehicle moron in the face. Several times.

1. Source

Why I won't get pissed off at Rush Limbaugh anymore.

You see, we can all spend our lives angry at everything and everybody (and I do, let me tell you!), but there are some people that just aren't worth it; Pat Robertson is one of those people.

Long ago, I learned that being angry about whatever stupid thing Pat Robertson did or said was a waste of my time. I simply realized one day that, when a tragedy happens, one can simply expect Pat Robertson to say the most dismissively offensive things to the victims of that tragedy (and likely blame them for it). So, learning that years ago helped me today when this headline popped up: "Pat Robertson blamed tornadoes on a lack of prayer."

Yep, folks, that is what he said. Is it offensive? Hell yes. Is it dismissive of the death toll? Hell yes. Is it pure victim-blaming with the intent to spread his religious dogma? Fuck yeah. Am I angry? No, I just shook my head and moved on. Pat Robertson is a douche bag.

And now I am getting to my point: Rush Limbaugh is a douche bag. Sure, he is a douche bag with a ton of listeners, and he says ridiculously racist, misogynist, homophobic (and a host of other -ist) things. Should we dismiss him as easily as Pat Robertson and his superstitious mystical nonsense about all disasters being related to the lack of religious zealotry? No, not at all! Rush Limbaugh is a horrible cancer on society. BUT!!! BUT... There is a way to no longer take him seriously.

Rush Cartman, Eric's little-known
uncle.

There is a little-known show out there called "South Park". In "South Park", there is a character who has been referred to as a cancer. This character's name is "Eric Cartman". "Eric Cartman" is a fat, white, racist, sexist, homophobic douche bag that consistently says completely offensive things without remorse. Rush Limbaugh is a fat, white, racist, sexist, homophobic douche bag that consistently says completely offensive things without remorse.

See how this works? Just imagine him as a cartoon character. He's not real. He's just the figment of two crazy cartoonists' imaginations. He is to be laughed at and never to be taken seriously. In fact, the creators of "South Park" have said, several times, that "Eric Cartman" is basically a "HEY, THIS GUY IS AN ASSHOLE AND YOU SHOULD NEVER ACT LIKE HIM" statement to the world.

And there you have it. Rush Limbaugh is basically a cartoon character whose sole purpose is to show you exactly what you shouldn't do in life.

Butt-Fucking Wookies

Or "Same Sex Relationships in Star Wars" and why the Family Research Council should collectively swallow a cyanide pill (and a load from my cock).

The Family Research Council (sometimes known as The Family Retard Coucil) is up in arms (short, stubby little ones like T-Rex: they are very useless) over the new BioWare game, "STAR WARS THE OLD REPUBLIC". I, too, am up in arms... Raving about how great it is! But, since that isn't what this blog is about (ever, for the most part), we'll not really discuss how great it is.

In a blog post on January 23rd, 2012, an FRC author wrote the following:

Rebel Fleet Surrenders to Gay Empire In a new Star Wars game, the biggest threat to the empire may be homosexual activists! Hello, I'm Tony Perkins of the Family Research Council in Washington, D.C. In a galaxy not so far far away, Star Wars gamers have already gone to the dark side. The new video game, Star Wars: The Old Republic, has added a special feature: gay relationships. Bioware, the company that developed the game, said it's launching a same-sex romance component to satisfy some complaints. That surprised a lot of gamers, since Bioware had made it clear in 2009 that "gay" and "lesbian" don't exist in the Star Wars universe. Since the announcement, homosexuals have been celebrating the news, but parents sure aren't. On the game's website, there are more than 300 pages of comments--a lot of them expressing anger that their kids will be exposed to this Star Warped way of thinking. You can join them by logging on and speaking up. It's time to show companies who the Force is really with! ^[1]

So, now we will dissect exactly how fucking stupid that post is/was... And believe me, it's stupid! I mean, I know that sounds out of the ordinary for a group that claims to hate homosexuals but spends their day-to-day lives obsessing over them, but trust me, this is above and beyond!

First off, we'll get the most obvious factual error out of the way:

This game is set in the Republic era, meaning that there is not "Rebel Fleet" surrendering to The Empire. During this era, THE SITH EMPIRE is, in fact, the rebellion. Now that I'm done with the nerd portion of this blog, on to the sheer stupidity and attempts to figure out JUST HOW INSANELY OBSESSED THEY ARE WITH TWO MEN (or women) HAVING SEX WITH ONE ANOTHER!

DUN DUN DUN.

For an organization that CLAIMS to be all about "family values", they certainly dropped the ball here. As of January 23rd, the game was out for one month and three days, and it just now became a blip on their radar. This blip, of course, was caused by the fact that the developer, BioWare, announced that one Twi'Lek male might be able to bend another one over the counter soon and have his way with him (some people might be turned on by this - I am not one of them - give me Wookies any day!).^[2]

I got my ass kicked.
Shit's serious!

Before BioWare announced the possibility of homosexual relationships in their game, FRC did not give ONE FUCK (or shit or damn) about this game. Trust me, I know this to be fact, as a search on their site for the phrase, "Star Wars", only returns this one article and another from April 21st, which has to do with human cloning. So, as we can see, BioWare's interest in trying to make the game more inclusive for people is the one thing that bothers them.

And why shouldn't it be? We all know that to people like that, homosexuality is an abomination against "God" and nature. I don't agree with it, but we know that is how they feel. Which brings me to my points:

Last I checked, extra-marital and pre-marital sex are also again "family values". And guess what, folks? I've played this awesome game (as I said in the intro) and it is RIFE with scenes of my smuggler walking off the screen with a random female (often times not even of his species - TRUE INTERRACIAL RELATIONSHIPS). Did that bother them? Where were they when the game came out December 20th? Polishing their jackboots? Too busy just hating on gays while pretending to be for "family values"?

Well, as you can imagine, I'm not finished yet. Nope, not even close! This game contained, in the first 10 levels of the smuggler class: two scenes where I was given the option to execute somebody, a scene where I could steal medical supplies from war-torn refugees, a quest where I could lie to a mother about what happened to her son and a hots of other things that would typically be considered "morally wrong" by these people. And with all of that, they were still NOWHERE to be found!

Oh, I'm not finished yet! The Sith Warrior class has a female companion that comes with a shock collar. You can torture her to "put her in her place" or all sorts of other creepy things. But hey, that's okay, right? After all, "family values" is all about keeping a woman in her place, right?

Yeah, the FRC is ALL ABOUT family values, if "family values" was defined by Webster^[3] himself as, "hating homosexual people and everything they do".

On a related note, it's high-time we started accepting those Wookies that were born with rainbow coats. They exist, and we cannot continue to rake over them (or mouse over, since this is in the internet) and pretend that they don't exist. Chewbacca loved men and that is the end of it.^[4]

1. Original article
2. Let's be honest, it'll probably end up that 80% of homosexual happenings in Star Wars is little Tommy in his mom's basement trying to make sure his hot Chiss babe makes out with some other hot Chiss babe.
3. And I don't mean the show starring little person actor Emmanuel Lewis!
4. It's a little-known fact that this is why he ended up in Imperial hands where he met his life-mate, Han Solo. It is also a little-known fact that The Galactic Empire was started by Darth Sideous, whose given name was James Dobson.