Friday, September 30, 2005

Keith Richards is so old.

It just kind of occurred to me today how old Keith Richards really is. If you don't know Keith Richards, he is the lead guitarist for the Rolling Stones. I mean, I guess the guy isn't really THAT old. He's 61. But just look at him. This guy is as dead as you can get without actually being dead. I've never seen a person who looks so much like a skeleton. The guy doesn't dress up for haloween, he just takes his clothes off, and when he walks in the door everyone says "Holy Crap! Damned if that isn't the best skeleton costume I've ever seen!" Then they pat Keith on the back and his arm falls off.

It's not like Keith really looks after himself either. Dude smokes like Chicago in 1871 (please tell me you guys get this joke). I actually heard (am making up) a rumor that Keith has smoked so many cigarettes that he doesn't have to inhale the smoke anymore. It just seeps into his bloodsteam through his pores. He's been a "rock-and-roller" since conception and has likely contracted every V.D. known to mankind. And probably 3 or 4 that his own body invented. Not that the guy doesn't have enough cash to single-handedly pay scientists to find a cure for Hepatitus A, B, C, D, E & L.

Maybe I shouldn't be writing this. There is a decent chance (Stats Canada reports 77.84%) that I'll one day hook up with one of Keiths illegitimate daughters and be able to claim his immense fortune for myself. And sell all the rights to the Rolling Stones songs back to the Beatles. I mean Paul McCartney. I mean Michael Jackson.

Thursday, September 22, 2005

Get a clue, CBC.

OK, I'm gonna come right out and say it. I know lots of you are thinking it, but not all of you are saying it because, well, frankly, you're scared. And pussies.

CBC IS TERRIBLE (except Hockey Night in Canada).

Now, with that said, I would also like to say that compared to Michael Moore, CBC comes out looking like St. Peter. Or boobies. Or something that everyone thinks is good.

My friend Burnsy, knowing how much I despise Michael Moore, sent me this link in an email.

Basically, for all of you who are too lazy to click on that link, CBC wanted to broadcast Moore's documentary Bowling for Columbine. Moore found out about the strike and decided that he didn't want CBC to air his rhetoric...I mean documentary, saying "CBC has locked out its union workers, an action that is abhorrent to all who believe in the rights of people to collectively bargain. Why the great and honourable CBC is behaving like an American corporation is beyond me."

First of all, who the hell cares? Ok, obviously I do, but only because Michael Moore is so fat and worthless. Second of all, why would CBC want to train wreck their ratings (worse than they already are) with Moore's joke of a documentary? But the awesomest part of this whole situation is when Jason MacDonald says (paraphrased) "Who cares what that fat tub of lard says? He is an embarrassment to society and I hope he cuts his scrotum open with a piece of paper. If he died right...(pauses for effect)...NOW! no one would bat an eye. We're broadcasting that show no matter what he says and if he doesn't like it, he can race me. And he can't use his golf cart like he usually does."

Owned. Michael Moore is abhorrent.

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

I hate pseudo-intellectuals.

I am so tired of people trying to tell me "their" opinions on the latest political scam or why society is how it is. Can't people keep their ignorant mouths shut? I mean, wow. You have a Bachelor's degree in Political Science/Sociology. You're obviously the be-all end-all on those subjects. Oh wait. I mean your text book/professor which you copied word-for-word from are the be-all end-all on those subjects. Get your own opinion. Get some life experience. Congratulations, you paid $40,000 for someone to tell you how you think. You're obviously far more learned than I.

I swear that the next person who tells me that George Bush invaded Iraq for their oil is going to get my "oil" in their face. Shut your mouth. You know nothing. Conan O'Brien made some comment on his show and all of a sudden you're spouting off as if it was all your idea and how could anyone be so blind as to not agree with you. Just because Dave Letterman's Top 10 List of reasons George Bush invaded Iraq included "He wanted the weapons back that he sold to Saddam", doesn't make it undeniable truth.

You people spout rhetoric like it's your own and no one says a thing to you because it's cool to hate Bush. Incredibly insightful, you piece of trash. If you have something original and informed (this does not include whatever you heard on the Daily Show DVD) to tell me, I will hear you out. Informed opinions and intelligent debates help society thrive.

Oh yeah, and besides all of this, who cares? WE LIVE IN CANADA. NOT AMERICA. Notice how so few people are commenting on the ridiculousness of the Canadian Liberal Government? Do you know that when Paul Martin was in Regina he raised $3,000 to help some little girl who had been raising money for some benefit/cause then had all her money stolen? That's so amazing. What a great leader. Did you also know that he spent over $10,000 that same night paying for booze for his whole entourage at Wascana Country Club? Part of that $10,000 is mine, and I want it back. In pogs. I want $10,000 worth of pogs. And you know what? It's my money, so screw you. I can spend it wherever and on whatever I want. Maybe I'll buy $10,000 worth of nair, cause God knows I could use it...I mean...not use it...

Liberals are terrible. Like gonorrhea.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Want to waste my time? Invite your distant aunt to your wedding.

Admittedly, there are some cool things about weddings. For example, wine. And wedding favours. And hurling insults at the guy sitting at the table across from you because he's obviously the dregs of society but doesn't know it. Well...DIDN'T know it...

But if you get married, please; PLEASE monitor your open mike.

With the good, always comes the bad. And with the bad always comes the worst. And you know what the what worst is? Your Aunt Cecile/Bertha/Gertrude/Agatha and your Uncle Vernon/Carl/Mortimer/Bruce. Normally, you wouldn't care about these people because you'd never meet them. They'd never get the chance to attract your attention enough for you to be displeased with them. But all of a sudden, their precious niece/nephew, whom they've never actually met, is getting married. And lo and behold, there's an open mike just begging to be overwhelmed with drab, incoherent ramblings about when "young teddy crapped all over the martinis (bohemian beer) at the familiy reunion and Grandpa Earl said 'Whoa!!! That boy's got a fine ass-shot on him! They should make that an olympic sport! He'd win gold for sure!!' and everyone had a good laugh".

No. No one had a good laugh. In fact, not only did I not have a good laugh, but I had to get up just now and run to Societal Dregs' table and throw up in his wine. NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR AWFUL STORIES. NO ONE. NOT EVEN YOUR HUSBAND OF 30 YEARS.

The only funny thing I've ever seen a relative do at a wedding was when one drunken Uncle got up to the mike and proceeded to pretend like he was native for 15 minutes talking about how his nephew married a good woman and how she would cook him fine "bannok" and how they would soon have little "squas" running around everywhere. That was funny. Seriously, dude went on for 15 minutes. NEVER breaking character. On second thought...maybe he was actually native...anyways, it was funny.

The moral of this story is that if you are related to someone getting married, leave the open mike to his/her friends. Unless you're drunk. Or native. Or both.

Counters Rule