Things piss me off. It’s a fact. It’s a goddamned fact, to be specific. Otherwise, this website wouldn’t even exist. In its place would exist a large happy bunny fun-fun site where all in the world is happy, gay, and other stupid words to describe my nonexistent soul. That would be very good and lame-ass, I guess, but that’s really not the point of today’s discussion. It just so happens that a certain four individuals happened to be mentioned in conversations that I heard today, and all of them piss me off. Take out your notebooks, eat a dog, and let’s begin.
Henry David Thoreau: Let’s start right off with the faggot of philosophers, the co-founder of transcendentalism (otherwise known as “total bullshit”), Henry David Thoreau. Just look at his name. Bastard-ass here apparently believes that he’s good enough to sling his middle name around along with the rest of it. If you met someone at a party and they said their name was, “Thoreau. Henry David Thoreau,” it is your duty as a human being to force feed them their own feces until their death from their stomach exploding from shit-intake overload. Unfortunately, I’m afraid this won’t work on Thoreau, he being such a connoisseur of bullshit. This cock-manch hung out with Ralph Waldo Emerson (Note the use of the middle name again, what a fucking jack-cock), who also liked to spew transcendentalism all over the place. Emerson was full of it, but at least he didn’t pretend to be something he wasn’t.
If you happen to know about Thoreau’s claim to fame, Walden, you should also know the “story” behind it. Apparently the inconceivably large ass-packer was tired of life among the fools who could not awaken to the light of transcendentalism and went off into the woods to be a bastard. What he didn’t tell you in his shitty book is that he had family members bring him food weekly so he didn’t starve to death because he was such a dumbass he couldn’t find or raise any on his own. He also visited town weekly to party and get drunk as all sin. Wow, transcending! That’s a real philosophy to follow there, you fucking liar. Oops, have I mentioned that you’re other famous act was not paying taxes to support the Mexican War despite that you were bailed out of jail by your rich aunt the next goddamn day? Well, that about fucks you for civil disobedience, hey? It’s a good thing Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr. weren’t full of bullshit or your philosophy would be looking pretty stupid right now. What a goddamn goat fucker.
Kurt Cobain: I fucking hate this guy. Everybody jumps around dancing like a faggot and licking MTV’s asshole for having a special every fucking day about the MOST SHOCKING MOMENTS IN MUSIC just so they can slap Kurt Cobain killing himself on there about twenty goddamn times. News flash you bastards: Kurt Cobain had depression and people with depression have a nasty tendency to kill themselves. Huh, how about that? Don’t forget that when he decided to blow his fucking head off with a shottie, that he had heroin and Valium in his blood (which I assume there was a lot of) , which both alone would be enough to fuck your brain up to the point where you just might shoot yourself. I mean, that’s completely logical with one drug along, forget that he had both in his fucking blood. So here we’ve got a depressed, most likely drunk although I’m not entirely certain, and jacked up guy with a shotgun. Chances are that after he gets done shooting at whatever the fuck he’s seeing in his head, he’s going to play “dodge the shotgun” with his mouth.
Oh yeah, what about all of those kids who killed themselves after Kurt? You know what? Good fucking riddance. I don’t want more people who’re just gonna bitch to much about how sad Cobain’s death is. Let’s not forget that Elliot Smith, who died like two months ago or something, stabbed himself in the heart while not fucked up on drugs. Okay, stabbing yourself in the heart takes balls. Lots and lots of balls. It’s also a whole lot cooler. But Elliot Smith isn’t going to be on MTV every ten seconds just so they can jack him off and say how much of a tragedy it is. You know why? Because no one loves one of his songs. Goddamn “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” Its not even that good of a song, much less the BEST SONG OF ALL TIME or some bullshit like that. Goddamn it I hate the music industry.
John Lennon: If I hate Kurt Cobain that much, you can bet you cat’s eyeballs that I hate John Lennon. Most unfortunately for me (and probably a lot more so for him) one of my better friends happens to have his birthday on the anniversary that Johnny Boy was nailed. And it never fucking fails. Every goddamn time its his birthday, I hear some bitch or dumbass spew, “Today was the day that John died.” Yeah, John. You really fucking knew him, didn’t you? Good buddies, eh? You know what, John Lennon lived like a bastard and died like a bastard. He was shot in the back by a crazy psycho. If you ask me, Johnny Boy got off lucky. He could’ve been kidnapped and raped to death by mechanical brooms in some janitor’s closet. The only reason that it was so highly publicized was that John Lennon was one of the only talented members of the divine Beatles, who speaking of which, really aren’t that great. “I hope you understand…I wanna hold your hand.” Great lyrics, there, fucko. When I was in New York, we had to stop and get out to look at the spot where John Lennon was murdered. Woo, like I fucking care. Why don’t you show me something that matters like my left nut?
I can’t stand it when someone famous dies at all. Like the Johnny Cash and John Ritter thing. First off, Johnny Cash blows. Or should I say blew. No, he blows so much that even post mortem he continues to blow with furious wind. An old, ugly, cowboy with a bad voice and a shitty guitar doesn’t make good music. All he does is rip off Nine Inch Nails music that everybody hates until its converted to craptastic guitar. Second, I’ll bet ten bucks that not even a quarter of the population even knew who the fuck John Ritter was. I saw him on Broadway and he was fucking great, but I don’t hold my fellow Americans in such a positive light to actually know someone who isn’t a bad signer.
George W. Bush: I hate George Bush all of the time because he’s an incompetent bastard, but this new bullshit with Sadam pisses me off more than normal. Apparently Bush said something along the lines of, “He dug himself a hole, and then hid in it.” I don’t care what the fuck anyone says, the U.S. invaded Iraq. I don’t want to hear any moral hoo-ha flung back and forth like howler monkeys with feces, Bush looked at ten years of searching for “weapons of mass desruction,” didn’t find any or any evidence, sent another committee that didn’t find any, invaded Iraq to find them, shifted the case to “free the Iraqi people,” and dicked around for 8 months. And now we find Sadam. Fucking great. What are you going to do? Kill him? That’d solve a lot of problems, wouldn’t it? You still haven’t found any “weapons of mass destruction,” you bastard. Good thing that you passed off your incompetence as a QUEST FOR FREEDOM!
Goddamn it, I fucking hate America. I hope North Korea destroys everything in a thousand mile radius, just to say, “Hey, look! Your shitty excuse to invade another country from animosity toward 9-11 and to look away from your own shitty countries economic situation (oh yeah, and lets not forget you invaded a country you knew you couldn’t possibly lose against in order to ‘show North Korea’) didn’t work at all, you fucking bastard!”
The only good president is a dead one. Long live Lee Harvey Oswald, roxorboxors@hotmail.com
~Willbo Baggins