DO YOU BELIEVE THIS MITT?

Theories, we've all got 'em. Whether you believe the moon landing was faked, or that the Holocaust was a lie, or perhaps you're one of the few who believe that Jews faked the moon landing to divert our attention away from discovering the truth about the Holocaust. Hey, don't blame that last one on me, heard it from a guy.

That's the guy right there. Told me all about it as he was trying to
clean my windshield with a spray bottle full of human waste. 

Hell, you might even believe some crazy shit about aliens being responsible for the rise of sea turtles as Earth's dominant life form. Wait… that one hasn't happened yet. But you should probably prepare for it. Even at this very moment they're out there in the briny deep developing a rudimentary language and opposable thumbs. Soon as they complete that evolutionary step with the help of their alien friends, humanity as we know it is well and truly dicked. They're like walking tanks. How can we defend ourselves against that? Least that's my theory, and that's the point.

Like I said, we've all got 'em, I happen to have a lot more than my fair share of them, what with my enlarged cranium, my superior capacity for complex thought and a healthy dose of humility. But this isn't about me… actually, it is about me and my theories. Not gonna lay them all out for you here today since that much pure enlightenment might well just clog your mind-hole like a sock through a toilet and leave you spilling an overflowing torrent of gibberish. The one thought I'm gonna dish to you today — besides the turtle thing, that was a bonus track — is my theory on Mitt Romney's presidential campaign. And if I'm right, then I'm gonna spill some knowledge that Mitt doesn't want you to know about. I'm about to spoil that dude's day by opening my big mouth. And if I know Mitt (which I don't) he's probably gonna send some boys around to put the silence on me, Mormon style. Might even roll around here personally to handle the deed himself, which will most likely involve a stern talking to and a lot of finger-wagging. That dude is hardcore! 

Mitt just got real up in here! 

But I'd be doing you all a great disservice if I let myself be intimidated by Romney and his words and his demeanor and his hair. All kidding aside, that really is good hair, a very presidential mane that guy is sporting. I'm a little intimidated by his coif, I ain't gonna lie. But no, must soldier on and tell the world the truth. And that truth is this: Mitt Romney does not want to be President of the United States. Mitt Romney just wants to run for President.

How else can you explain some of… or ALL of the dumb shit that comes out of that man's mouth on a pretty regular basis? Seems like every two weeks he opens up his speak-tube and gives America a reason to vote for the other guy. The other guy being that… that other fella, what's his name? Oh, right on the tip of my tongue. Why can't I ever remember that guy? 

It'll come to me sooner or later. 

It was that other guy that Romney mentioned just a little while ago while talking up an NAACP convention full of… you know… those people. Just after promising to bring down the Affordable Care Act — or 'Obamacare' — he informed them that if they wanted more free stuff from the government then they should vote for the other guy." (Seriously, what is his name?) 

"Bend over America, here's your
f@%king affordable healthcare!"

Seems this is just how Mitt rolls, whether it was last year when he declared that corporations are people or when he bragged to the good folks of Michigan that his wife drives a couple of Cadillacs, (Way to identify with the common man, asshat!) or when he tried to appeal to the jobless masses in Florida by stating that as a former governor, he too is unemployed. (That one took balls.) Then there's this gem of a quote from January of this year, "I'm not concerned about the very poor. We have a safety net there." I've been Googling the shit out of my browser looking for an explanation to that one and I still don't know what the f@%k he means. What safety net?

Now I know that politicians saying dumb shit is not a new phenomenon, we recently served eight years under a true master of the craft. But really, President Bush was… special. Bless his heart, he tried, he tried so hard to say smart things but then he'd open his mouth and the words came out all… special. But we expect more from Mitt because he's not Bush, he's better than that… smarter, isn't he? Wouldn't he have to be? The Republican Party wouldn't let another one like that get through, would they? There's gotta be a screening process, right? IQ tests, word association, square pegs and round holes, that sort of shit? No? F@%K! 

"So you want me to make this out to Kim? Well that's a
funny name, how you spell that, darlin'?" 

No, I'm sticking to my original theory, it's all an act. A carefully thought out and well executed ruse. Mitt's just putting us all on by occasionally pulling a Bush (that sounds like a sex crime) and saying enough stupid shit from time to time so that there's no possible way we'll vote his dumb ass into office. That has to be it. He's realized that being President of the United States at this point in our nation's history would be a thankless, ball-sucking way to spend four to eight years. Just ask the other guy. But this way Mitt gets to nobly go down in flames on November 6th, hold his head up high during his concession speech and then spend time making like a million a year on the lecture circuit promoting his autobiography entitled: 'Hey, At Least I Gave It A Shot'.

Order from Amazon.com today and get Ann Coulter's latest nut-job manifesto absolutely FREE! 

Yeah, that's what I'm thinking is going on in the Romney camp these days. After all, he wasn't like this when he made a bid for the '08 nomination. He seemed pretty solid back before the economy went tits-up and and we were all on Rapture-watch. Still, now that I think about it, there is recent word about a time back in '07 when he strapped his dog carrier to the roof of his car during a 12-hour road trip… with the dog in it. As one would expect, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals had a shit fit. So too did the dog actually, terrified at the time, the poor animal — Seamus was his name — lost control of his bowels and crapped all over the roof of the car. When PETA publicly made a (BAD PUN ALERT) stink about the incident, Romney casually mocked "PETA is not happy that my dog likes fresh air".

Seamus would neither confirm or deny they allegations.
Nor would he come out of his house… ever again! 

Oh my God, I was wrong, it's not an act, he is… special. Real special… industrial strength special! The Republican Party needs a better screening process. And apparently Mitt Romney needs a helmet. Too bad though, be a shame to mess up that hair. Seriously, what's his secret?

WHITE IS BLACK:

Well it's been almost a year since I started this thing, roughly eleven months since I began — as the title implies — telling you stuff for nothing. But as with everything in life, this too must change. The time has come to start a new chapter in the life of this hobby, this labor of love, this thing I call blog. And so beginning August 1st, I will no longer be telling you this or any other thing for nothing. Beginning August 1st this site will become a membership site and I'll be telling you things for a monthly fee. A Paypal account and link will be set up to allow you to…

"Good… your greed has made you powerful… and stupid."

Okay, I've just been informed by counsel that this is a horrible idea and I'm a complete dumbass for even considering it because no one wants to pay to hear a goddamn thing I have to say. So change is in the air once again as I will be reverting back to my previous agenda of exorcising my demons for nothing and inviting you to bear witness to my break down for free.

Although, since nothing ever actually changed except my mind, then this entire thing was all unnecessary, a pointless waste of both my time and yours. But it was free, just as it's always been. And as always, your welcome. 

"Fighting crime with my Bat-Stare!"

So The Dark Knight Rises hit theaters this weekend and I think by now we all know how that turned out for the poor people in Aurora, Colorado. Not a damned thing funny about any of that but as with the rest of the nation my thoughts and prayers are with the victims and their families. And I implore congress to seriously consider bringing back crucifixion in cases such as these.

As for the film itself… well I can't comment on that since I haven't seen it yet. Not that I was afraid to go or anything, just that other stuff came up, that's all. So if you've seen it already, don't say anything and spoil it for me! But besides getting to see the final installment of the Dark Knight trilogy, there's another reason I was looking forward to hitting the cinema — and I still am excited, fuck you very much to that theater shooting piece of shit whose name I refuse to mention — and that other reason was the release of the first Man of Steel trailer. Heard all sorts of good buzz about this one from various sources who saw advance footage at the San Diego Comic-Con last week. One report even claimed that the shit was so good it man a dude cry. Seriously, check it out HERE. Now you tell me some shit like that and I have just got to see for myself, couldn't wait to get my ass into a theater seat and see what all the waterworks was about. 

"My stare comes with heat vision, so SUCK IT, Bats!

Imagine my surprise when the trailer dropped online the other day and turned out to NOT be the stuff of legend, not the tear inducing footage that fans got to see at Comic-Con. Instead it was just some boring-ass shots of a bearded Clark Kent hitchhiking along an Alaskan road, working on a fishing boat and doing eighty seconds of other stuff that sucks. (No disrespect to real fishermen but come on.) And all this yawn inducing fluff goes on while a Kevin Costner voice-over drones on about choosing destiny and being a good man, eating all your veggies, staying in school and not doing drugs. Sure the last five seconds shows a red and blue blur flying across the screen but that shit comes too little too late to save the day.

Look, up in the sky… it's… it's boring.

Still, that's a very small complaint about a film that I haven't even seen yet. In fact, I actually have a better feeling about this film now considering that seven years ago when I saw the trailer for Superman Returns I was blown away and thought that was going to be the most awesome film ever. Then I paid $8.00 to watch Bryan Singer piss all over the silver screen and try to call it art. So a crappy trailer might be a good omen for this one.

Of course there are others out there bitching about something even more trivial than a bad trailer, there are people upset about the fact that Laurence Fishburne was cast as Daily Planet editor Perry White. Because in the comics, in the TV shows, in all the Superman films that have gone before, Perry White is always… well White is always white. Seems that some feel that this is too important a part of the Superman mythos to change.

"I don't care if the other guys said it… 'Great Caesar's ghost'
ain't coming outta my mouth."

Fishburne joins the ranks of several other black thespians who have taken jobs from white actors in super hero flicks over the past few years. Samuel Jackson as Nick Fury in the Avengers, Michael Clarke Duncan as Wilson (Kingpin) Fisk in Daredevil, Kerry Washington as Alicia Master in Fantastic Four and Idris Elba as Heimdall in Thor are all guilty of taking food out of the mouths of children of white actors and thus proving once again that there's simply no justice in Hollywood these days. Of course the Fishburne flack is mostly just the bitching and moaning of a small group of bigoted 45 year-old virgins. Nowhere near as ridiculous as when the Council of Conservative Citizens came out last year and organized a boycott of the movie Thor because of the aforementioned casting of Idris Elba as the Norse god Heimdall. For the true stupidity of that to come through I guess it should be mentioned that the Council of Conservative Citizens — whom the Southern Poverty Law Center have classified as a hate group — believe the U.S. to be a Christian country, yet took issue with a black man being cast as a Norse deity.

Although I haven't heard or seen anything from the CCC about Fishburne playing Perry White, I wouldn't be at all surprised. However, if Fishburne plays White as anything other than a bitter old pill of a man, angry about forced early retirement and screaming at Superman to quit screwing up his dish reception with all that flying around like a goddamn fairy, then we should all call bullshit no matter what his race.

As if any of this matters anyway. Still not gonna beat those damned Avenger a-holes at the box office so why even bother trying anymore. Can't even believe I'm saying this, but the super hero film thing has no where to go but down from here. Marvel's recent announcement of an Ant-Man movie pretty much… Yeah, I said Ant-Man. Not even gonna bother finding an image of the guy. Here, just look at the Avengers one more time and walk away.

"Hey guys, have WE stopped making money yet? I didn't think so."

OUT OF TOUCH:

Hello all. Sorry to say that I'm going to be incommunicado for a few days. Circumstances beyond my control have forced me off the grid for a little while. Call it an unexpected vacation, a sudden sabbatical, an impromptu holiday or a swift flight from justice. But whichever way you chose to view it, please remember that it won't be for long and that no matter what you may hear in my absence… I really thought that house was gonna be empty and those people will get their grandmother back when the heat dies down.

See kids, I'm sure Grandma's fine under there… somewhere.

LET THE GAMES BEGIN ALREADY:

All right people, I am begging you, for the love of God, can we please, as a rational and forward-thinking society… yeah, that won't work because that's just not us at all. Well can we at least pretend to be forward thinkers and put a halt to the bullshit practice of dudes proposing to their girls in public forums? Just seems like I can't ever tune into any sporting event or… or… no, sports, that's pretty much all I'm watching these days. And when I do watch, it just seems like some asshole's always got to seize upon that moment to make his marriage proposal a special one, to make it a memorable occasion by thrusting their happiness all up in our faces. 

"Now we'll always remember that our journey to Hell began right here at Fenway."

Some d-bag up in the cheap seats finds a girl who doesn't mind that he farts while she's giving him head so he decides to get down on one knee during the seventh inning stretch for all to see up on the jumbo-tron and I'm supposed to get all misty-eyed? F@%k you! Other than the bride-to-be's high tolerance for the southern winds, what's so special about these two that it's worth taking up airtime? Nothing at all. Sit these jackasses down so the commentators can stop talking about them and instead get back to giving me some stats and color on the game that I tuned in to see!

And it's not going to stop there. I guarantee you that one day soon while you're watching a live report of some tragedy unfolding on television with on-the-spot corespondent Patricia Hasan-Rivera-Chang (or something just as effed up as that) the mic will be hi-jacked by a guy who saw the whole thing but rather than give the world his eye-witness account, he takes the opportunity to propose to his baby mama. No, not his first baby mama… the other one. No, the one from the south-side not the east-side. Yeah, the one he met buying jeans at the flea market. So sorry good citizens of Fictionville, you don't get details of how a seven year-old got his hands on twelve pounds of C-4 and decided that school's out forever, because we got to witness a beautiful moment instead. 

"So there you have it. Hundreds are dead and even more were wounded,
but at least Angie from Bayside said 'Yes'. Back to you in the studio, Brad."

Okay so yeah… there's a little anger there, clearly some issues I need to work out. But that shit really does bug the hell out of me, especially the other day when I was looking for updates on the Olympic torch relay and came across this gag-inducing image: 

Funny, I thought the Brits frowned on public displays
of affection… or any sort of emotion at all. (Sorry Kate!)

That's David State proposing to his girlfriend Christine Langham during his leg of the relay run last month and I've already given these two way too much of my time so I'm moving on before they kill my Olympic spirit. And yes, you read it right a few sentences ago, I was checking to see where the torch was. Hey, a lot of people do the same thing at Christmastime with that Santa tracker shit so don't judge me. At least my thing is real and steadily making its way across Europe even as we speak. And by 'We' of course I mean me and the dolls that I stole from the kids next door to have my own private tea party and discuss the events of the day. ("No YOU shut the hell up, Polly Powderbottom! No one here cares what you think of the President!") 

Tea Party… talking about the President… you get it? Oh never mind.

But anyway, very excited about the Olympic games, can't wait for them to start. Really, you should see my nipples, they're like coat pegs or something. Could hang hats on these things. But it's always that way with me and the games of the summer Olympiad. I get all geeked up about it, watch the opening ceremonies, catch about two straight days of events, then my attention starts to wane as I realize how boring diving really is, scratch my head at the thought of ping-pong as a medal event and wonder how many handjobs it took in order to get the competition committee to include trampoline as an event as well. 

Yeah, I checked, competitive trampoline is nothing like this… dammit. 

Don't get me wrong though, I'll still be watching most of the two weeks that it's on. Still a lot of really cool events to be seen. I'll be watching Michael Phelps try to make the medal stand his personal footrest again like he did last time. Also fun to see how many 26 year-old women the Chinese will try to pass off as teenage girls on their gymnastics team. And women's soccer… come on. Who doesn't like to watch our ladies go out and beat up on women who aren't even allowed to vote in their own countries? And of course, basketball. I mean, what can we say about basketball except… 

Still there's a downside to all this as well, a dark side, an ugly side that makes the whole thing seem like a chore to get through at times. I'm of course talking about Bob Costas. Did you know that in the Greek language the word Costas means 'annoying little toupee wearing imp that should be violated repeatedly with plunger handle'? Seriously, I read that on the Internet… right here on this very page… that I wrote and published on the Internet. So it must be true because, you know… it's the Internet. And even worse this year is the fact that Costas will be joined by the ever present and equally annoying Ryan Seacrest. 

"What do you mean there's no Olympic red carpet event?
Well then what the hell am I even doing here?" 

Great, both of these f@%ktards trying to bring unnecessary drama to the games with Costas slinging hard luck stories about the athletes left and right and Seacrest doing… well… whatever the hell he's famous for. What does he do again? I don't watch American Idol, I enjoy music far too much to sit through that shit. But I'll even tolerate those two finger holes and their witless prattle right up until the inevitable moment when some medal winner jumps down off the podium, finds his true love in the crowd, drops down to one knee and makes a promise that will eventually cause him to curse his maker.

Although, if that medal winner's true love should be of the same sex, then that would be awesome! It'd be worth sitting through that opportunistic manufactured schmaltz just for the pleasure of watching the reactions pour in from groups like Focus on the Family or the National Organization for Marriage or the Headless Christians Association. (Yeah, I made that last one up because it makes me laugh.) If that happened, then I wouldn't mind so much. Also wouldn't mind if it happened during the equestrian event. Some guy wants to marry his horse, that'd be cool too. 

Of course his parents won't approve. Their son marrying a BLACK horse? NEVER!

After all, according to the above mentioned marriage/hate groups, dudes marrying animals is what we're headed for if we let dudes marry dudes. I wouldn't have a problem with it, long as the animal legally consents. Live and let live, that's my motto… or at least it would be if I didn't already have one. I mean, 'Show me your boobs' counts as a motto, right? Well it oughta.

SPACE RACES:

"Only the first hit's free, after that…
oh you gots to pay to play, baby."

Don't know if many people realize this, but Star Trek's Doctor Leonard McCoy was a racist piece of shit. Oh sure, he was charming with his whole down home drawl and his 'I'm just an old country doctor' southern charm and all. But beneath the surface… racist. Just hard for most people to see it since the target of his hateful invective was usually Mr. Spock. Also helping to hide McCoy's bigotry was the fact that most of the time the insults he hurled at Spock were set up and used to comedic effect, more punch line than insult. Really, how could we not laugh at a man being labeled a pointy-eared freak? It's such a ridiculous phrase… to us. But to a Vulcan, probably not so funny. 

"(Sniff) Why'd he have to be so mean?" 

Actually, nothing is funny to those guys… lack of emotion and all that. Which is probably why Kirk let that shit go on and never said anything. Probably figured that Spock didn't care, he's a grown Vulcan, he can take it. But if McCoy had thrown a derogatory comment at Sulu or Uhura, Starfleet HR would be beaming in faster than you could say 'corporate sponsored diversity training and cultural sensitivity seminar'. But you probably could say all that before they beamed in because that shit was a pretty slow process. 

"Oh you are so gonna get it! Here they come. Just you wait, mister…
any minute now… then you'll be in trouble… eventually."

Although I doubt Uhura would've needed or even called for any help dealing with McCoy's cracker ass if he got out of line and dropped a comment about her brown skin or even worse, lobbed an N-bomb in her direction. Pretty sure sister-girl would've handle things in the time-honored fashion of her peeps.

Aw shit, black woman with her hand on
her hip. Someone's about to get told.

NUMBERS GAME:

If only it were always that simple.

Way back in the day, far enough ago that the year 2000 still held the promise of flying cars, (Still waiting!) I had a friend, kid next door, we'll call him Robert (because that was his name). Robert and I, both lads of around ten years of age got into an argument one day. I remember the argument well, I just for the life of me can't recall what brought up the disagreement in the first place. 

There we were, standing on the back porch of my childhood home, the two of us arguing numbers. See, Robert was of a mind that one plus one equalled eleven, based simply and solely on the way the numerals appear together when written down (1+1 = 11). That's how he saw it. And all my best efforts to convince him otherwise were failing miserable. At ten years-old I just wasn't the master debater I would yet grow to be. (Still not there yet, but that's beside the point.)

We went at it back and forth for at least five minutes when I decided to give Robert a practical demonstration. Pointed out that there was one of him standing there at that moment, pointed out that there was one of me standing beside him. Asked him how many people were on the porch at that moment. Must have gotten through to him at that point, must have shown him the error of his ways and the flaw in his math because he lashed out and shoved me. Rather than admit defeat in the face of fact, (and my superior intellect) he resorted to violence. (Yes, to a child in the 70s, shoving was considered an act of violence. Simpler times people.)

Well I gave as good as I got, shoved him back (Ronny ain't no punk!) and then the shoving match was on until my Godmother, my Aunt Marge who lived next door saw us and hurried over to break us up before actual punches could be thrown. She needn't have worried though, a spirited slap fight is probably as far as it would have gone.

Aunt Marge shooed Robert along home, asked me what started the tussle, I laid the situation out for her and she gave to me these words of wisdom: "Next time just walk away, don't waste your time arguing with idiots." I bring this all up here and now mostly as a reminder to myself because I've been having a lot of idiotic arguments lately. Not to say that the people I've been arguing with are idiots… well not all of them… one of them to be sure. But the arguments have definitely been idiotic and not worth my time, I should know better. Should be listening to Aunt Marge more often. Should just remember that 1+1 = 2 and walk away.

As for Robert, last I'd heard he'd gotten involved with dealing drugs and gotten himself shot a few times. With his math skills it's easy to figure how that happened. Here's a word problem boys and girls.

Robert owes the Columbians $11,000 for some premium product. 

Robert gives them $1,000 plus another $1,000 and insists that it's enough.

How many bullets do the Columbians put in Robert's ass?

Stay in school, kids!