DON'T STOP…

"Ah ah ah… watch it, Ron."

SHUT UP, OLD PHOTO OF FORMER JOURNEY LEAD SINGER, STEVE PERRY! 

Sorry, kinda angry at that dude because legally I'm not allowed to use the word Believin' in conjunction with those other two words in the header. Basically it's all a mess to do with Perry's being pissed about the ongoing lawsuit in which I claim that he stole the song from me after hearing me sing it on open mike night at a little dive bar in San Francisco back in 1979. So what if I was only 11 years-old at the time? So what if I had never been to San Francisco and wouldn't have been old enough to sing in a bar anyway? So what if my story is complete bullshit? Who the fuck are you, Gloria Allred? 

Fuck! 

But we're here today to talk about beliefs. (Ha ha! Can't stop me from using THAT word! Suck it, Perry!) If you were one of the very few people to happen by here and catch my ramblings last week then you recall me going on and on about Anne Frank — Yes, we're talking about HER again. But only for a moment so bear with me.

Talking about the tragedy of that young girl's life — and the subsequent tragedy of Justin Bieber setting foot in her museum — put in mind a quote that appears toward the end of her diary which reads in part… "It's really a wonder that I haven't dropped all my ideals, because they seem so absurd and impossible to carry out. Yet I keep them, because in spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart.” Shortly after that entry the diary comes to an abrupt end as she and her family and most of the people who sheltered them were captured and Anne died of typhus in Auschwitz sometime in February, 1945.

Well… that certainly was depressing. Still, all this leads me to consider the things that I believe. Contrary to our young Miss Frank, inherent human goodness ain't anywhere on my list. And when the subject of my beliefs comes up it always reminds me of a wonderful scene from the 80s hit Bull Durham starring Kevin Costner and Susan Sarandon (Whom I would still cut off a finger to sleep with. Not MY finger of course but still…) Classic scene where Sarandon (as ball slut Annie Savoy) asks Costner (as ball player Crash Davis) what he believes in. In answer to the question, Costner pontificates for two minutes about believing in everything from vaginas to the Kennedy assassination. (And I believe that the former definitely had something to do with the latter.) After speaking his piece, he abruptly exits and leaves Sarandon to deal with a situation that can best be delicately described as… juicy panties. 

Yeah you WISH that was all rainwater
down there, Susan! 

Now I'm not saying that exposure to my beliefs are going to leave you all dripping down under. In truth, 99% of those who are exposed will most likely suffer no end of horrible side effects the likes of which can only end in madness, death or Dutch citizenship. I mean, I just went from Anne Frank's death to Susan Sarandon's moist crotch in one paragraph. So yeah, my opinions are not good for your health, mental or otherwise but arousal will not be one of your 99 problems. However, for that rare 1% that do find themselves even the slightest bit damp after picking up what I'm about to put down… well I'm sorry but you disgust me and after a brief and altogether frightening sexual affair, I can never associate with you again. Trust me, it'll be for the best.

So now that you've all signed the proper release forms I guess we can get started. What's that? Didn't sign any forms? Well Allred's already on her way here so she can take care of any legal mumbo-jumbo should the need arise. Until she gets here though, we'll just have to proceed with caution and good faith as we wade hip deep into the murky waters of…

WHAT I BELIEVE!

I believe in BOOBS! That one probably could've gone without saying. And apparently it went without a picture. WTF?

I believe that any woman who's ever claimed some decadent food item to be "… better than sex" is either a really shitty lay or she's never been fucked correctly… because she's a really shitty lay. And for the record, no man has ever made such a claim.

She's really enjoying that eclair. And no, you don't wanna know how she took it in.

I believe that natural childbirth must stink like an alien autopsy. I know, it's a beautiful miracle and there's this tremendous outpouring of emotions and all. But you know what else is pouring out of that miracle? A secret blend of eleven different bodily secretions that when sniffed out of context would remind one of a Carnival Cruise ship returning to port. It's a wonder that delivery rooms are able to keep paint on the walls.

I believe that bacon is the truest sign of God's love for us. Better luck next life, Muslims, Jews and Vegans.

I believe that every time 'Real Housewife' Nene Leakes and comedian Steve Harvey speak, they're each guilty of committing a verbal hate crime. And on occasion when the two of them speak to one another, the English language blows a rape whistle that never gets a response. 

Translation: ???????????????????????? [SYSTEM FAIL]

I believe that the commercial where those two nerds create a crude robot to feed them Cheetos is total bullshit because any nerds with such talents would undoubtedly use those skills to build a sex-bot. Said nerds would later wind up in the ER with a wildly fabricated story explaining exactly how one broke his dick, why the other has fire retardant foam up his ass and why there's a concerned Dyson with a face sitting in the waiting room.

I believe in… TAWM FAHKIN' BRADY! 

(B-Strong, Boston!) 

I believe that Usher fucking sucks! He sucks as an entertainer and since he's the one that discovered Justin Bieber — yeah, HIM again — then he sucks for that as well. So fuck him twice! And fuck The Voice as well for giving him a weekly forum for sucking. 

You ain't half the judge Cee Lo Green was…
literally and figuratively! 

I believe that if I ever got my fat ass involved in a three-way with Melissa McCarthy and Rebel Wilson, the gravitational forces unleashed by our slapping masses would rip the moon from its orbit and in turn unleash worldwide tectonic hell. Still, I'm gonna make that dream happen so you should all get your emergency plans and go-bags ready. 

And if I can persuade Adele to join us then none will survive the fatocalypse.
Sorry in advance, Life-As-We-Know-It. 

I believe that tanning salons are a wholly racist enterprise started by people who wanted to neither hire nor serve black people.

I believe that Betty Draper needs to be written out of Mad Men already! For God's sake, bitch wasn't interesting when she was married to all-American hero Don Draper, and being his "better half" was the only reason to give a shit about her. Now that they've been divorced for two seasons do we really need to be reminded she exists? I don't care that she's gotten remarried, gained 100 pounds, had a cancer scare and yet through it all she's still useless. Kill her off in a bizarre hair dryer accident and bring the kids to live with daddy. That way we can possibly get into some drama about daughter Sally running away to turn tricks on the streets of NYC because she hates Daddy's new wife, Megan. And perhaps little brother Bobby meanwhile feels just the opposite and regularly raids his stepmom's hamper for dirty pretty things to help him through puberty. You know, good old-fashioned, wholesome story telling. 

Actually, Bobby might be on to something. Where's she keep that hamper again? 

I believe that toward the end of his second term, President Barrack Obama will loosen up and drop a record nine uses of the word 'motherfucker' into his final State of the Union Address. I also believe that the FCC won't be able to do shit about it. Because he's the motherfucking POTUS, that's why, motherfuckers! 

I believe… THERE! ARE! FOUR! LIGHTS! 

(Where my Trekkies at?)

I believe that when Law & Order creator Dick Wolf was in high school he must have hated sitting through attendence. 

"All right everyone, stop laughing. I'm looking for Wolf, Dick.
Is there a Wolf, Dick here?" 

I believe that the Kentucky Derby would be more interesting if the National Thoroughbred Racing Association took a cue from NASCAR and changed it to the Kentucky 500. Bunch of horses thundering around a 2.5 mile track for 200 laps before stumbling to the finish line and exploding in a bloody pulp. Now that's what I'd call the sport of kings.

I believe that a perfect spinoff for The Walking Dead would be The Walking Wounded. A gripping drama about a group of folks trying to survive in a world where a cure for the zombie plague has been found, but now all the former undead just shamble around bitching about their missing limbs and lack of healthcare. 

I smell a hit! Or is that rotting flesh? Yup, definitely rotting flesh.

I believe that HAN SHOT FIRST! 

(Star Wars nerds in the house!)

And lastly, I believe that things such as the magic of a child's laughter, the majesty of a sunset and the simple pleasure of a porch swing don't matter anymore just like everything else on this list since Earth was obliterated last week! All of this is just my mind killing time while my flash-frozen body is in transit to the planet Proxima 8 where me and what's left of the human race will serve our new alien overlords. Well some of us will actually serve the overlords and some of us will BE served to them.

So that's it I guess, you're all dead to me now and I'm on my way to either a lifetime of intergalactic servitude or a brisk dry-rub followed by seventeen hours of slow roasting until I'm fall-off-the-bone delicious.

I believe I'll go great with a nice Pinot.