A Cry For Help

The four most overused words in the English language? "A cry for help." Whenever someone does something stupid - whether it's exposing their genitals to parking attendants or having sex with a mango - the experts call it "a cry for help." That's because a cry for help excuses any responsibility for the behavior, and it allows wall-eyed creeps like Dr. Phil the opportunity to make a buck. It's getting to the point that when you hear a real cry for help, you simply ignore it.

Case in point: Takahiro Fujinuma, a lonely Japanese man who called directory assistance ten thousand times, pleading with the female operators not to hang up. Today, he was arrested in Tokyo. The charge: obstructing a business.
But here was a case where the cries for help were literally cries for help! And no one cared. My only explanation for such callousness is that we've grown immune to real sorrow - instead focusing our sympathies on people who don't need it - like depressed starlets, animals stuck in grates, and of course, Josh Groban.

Me - I prefer to focus on real cries for help. True, many of these cries come from my basement. But that's why I've invested 4,500 dollars in high performance, sound absorbing thermal insulation. I suggest you do the same.

And if you disagree with me, then you sir, are worse than Hitler!

SATIRE ALERT

Barack Obama; A Reagan Conservative?

As Super Tuesday draws near, it appears that either Hillary or Obama will win the Democrat Party nomination and therefore the Presidency. I've been holding off an making an official endorsement because I love them both as if they were my own two lesbian mothers, with huge teats from which I shall suckle until I am fat and happy and can suckle no more. Having either one of them in the White House would make any Progressive as giddy as a freckled schoolgirl frolicking in a meadow on a bright summer morn.

But hold onto your bonnet, Half-Pint, because something is amiss in Walnut Grove. With their crops succumbing to the effects of global warming, Pa and Mr. Edwards have taken jobs delivering nitroglycerin to a nearby mining camp. Meanwhile, Nellie is up to her usual tricks, and a suprised Laura finds Albert smoking crack behind the schoolhouse with Willie Oleson.

For those of you who may be too conservative to understand the metaphor, what I am talking about is Obama's bizarre behavior of late, behavior that may cause many voters to wonder where his loyalties truly lie. First of all, his disrespect and mistreatment of the Clintons betrays a deep-rooted hatred for successful Black Americans. However, it's Obama's gushing praise of Ronald Raygun that alarms me the most.

"I think Ronald Reagan changed the trajectory of America in a way that Richard Nixon did not and in a way that Bill Clinton did not." Obama told the Las Vegas Review Journal. "He put us on a fundamentally different path because the country was ready for it."

Correction, Mr. Obama: Ronald Reagan was the most evil President in American history. Even the Shrub pales in comparison. How can any of us forget how that shriveled, old, B-movie actor banned labor unions, closed down the mental hospitals, raised taxes on the poor and put flowers on Hitler's grave? Let us also remember how his saber-rattling destroyed a perfect opportunity to forge an enduring friendship with the Soviet Union, an opportunity that sadly will never come again because the Soviet Union no longer exists. But Reagan's greatest crime of all, the one for which he shall never be forgiven, was that he restored a hope and enthusiasm for America'a future that Jimmy Carter worked four long years to crush. Reagan's jingoist rhetoric about a "Bright Shining City On a Hill" sparked a dangerous form of patriotism that lingers to this day. If Obama won't at least follow the Democrat Party by-laws and speak of Ronald Reagan only in the high-pitched whine of a liberal consumed with disgust for a man who personified everything we despise about this imperialist country, then he can expect no support from me come November.

Like I said, I'm not ready to officially endorse Hillary just yet. But I'm not going to waste my vote on someone who may only be pretending to be just to the left of Chairman Mao so he can get into office, and then tear away his progressive mask to reveal he's been the Gipper all along.

And if you don't agree with me , the YOU Sir and worse than Hitler's Turduckengal

I've not been feeling well today. They are poisoning me to make me better and to prepare me for surgery. One can only imagine what in the hell they have in mind post surgery. It may be a Josh Groban concert.

While lounging around in my shorty robe watching Designing Women, I came across a study which does not bode well for clowns. It says 250 children between the ages of 4 and 16 were surveyed, and each one said they disliked and feared clowns. At first, I wasn't fazed - we all know that face paint is the definitive mark of the anti-christ. But then I thought about it some more. And some more. And then, while refilling my squirting flower with acid, I realized that of all the special interest groups left on the planet, it's the Bozos and Bubbles who are subjected to most bigotry and ridicule. Who cries when you bully a clown? No one. In fact, in the south, it's encouraged.

Are clowns really that different from you and me? Sure they wear water-based makeup, giant rubber shoes, foam noses, balloon print cumberbunds and ride around in a Volkswagon with 18 of their friends, but can you honestly say you don't do the same? Can you?

Yes, we've seen a few bad eggs - Serial killer John Wayne Gacy did nothing to help the plight of the clown - but he was also a shoe salesman. How come no one mentions that?

Tonight I'd like you to take a look at your own clown prejudice. Because frankly, I don't think there's room in this world for your Bozophobia.

AND IF YOU DISAGREE WITH ME THEN YOU, SIR, ARE WORSE THAN HITLER

New Yawk Times

So last Sunday I did something against doctors orders: I read the New York Times. On the front page - a piece on American war veterans. The Times says they're all homicidal maniacs, committing up to 121 murders total, stateside. But this is the Times, of course - so you know what they leave out is always more important than what they leave in. I'm talking context. Oh - and a soul.

In the New York Post, writer Andy Solstis, along with other bloggers, point out that the murder rate for returning vets is only one-fifth of that of young Americans who did not fight. The take home message: if you want to make peace, make warriors.

It's funny how the Times thinks the worst of our military - even as they bend over backwards pretending to support them. It's no wonder that they and others swallowed that corrupt Lancet study -the one funded by George Soros - claiming 600K Iraqi dead from the war. I guess if you really need to validate your own bitter assumptions about America - you'll swallow anything.

As you know, that number is almost as unfounded as the Times current circ numbers, which, if they drop any further, will be read less than your average supermarket circular (and about as newsworthy). The truth is, writers do this stuff because the closest they've ever gotten to a soldier is to snicker at the Salvation Army Lady at Christmas time. It's easy to believe bad things about people you never met. The rest of us worry about Osama and Ahmadinejad; the Times editors prefer to target 17 year old kids eating MRE's 10,000 miles from home. Why? Because those kids don't read the Times, or hold Time-ish opinions. They don't care who Paul Krugman or Maureen Dowd are (I think they're the same person, actually). Essentially these kids don't believe the Times should run the world. So they must be worse than Hitler. Just like you are, if you don't agree with me.

A Black President

I've read in a number of places that the United States is "not ready for a black president." Both you and I know this is ridiculous. The 11th president James K. Polk was black, as was Thomas Jefferson, who created the blueprint for what later became the Jeffersons. The difference was back then we didn't see color. Today everything is about race. When Hillary pointed out that LBJ had a role in ushering in civil rights laws, Obama's folks accused her of diminishing MLK. What does this mean?

It means that while the US is ready for another black president, it's not ready to talk openly to one.

A great leader needs to take his lumps. But as long as you have grievance groupies like Al Sharpton accusing squirrels and end tables of racism, then the opposition is silenced. There's nothing worse than being called a racist - being called a pedophile a close second - so rather than say Obama's policies are as loony as a bag of frog spit, you smile politely. If you're a reporter, anyway.For the press is always paraniod that interest groups will come after them - so they cower behind softball questions and shameless brown-nosing.

And how will the editorial cartoonists satirize a sacred cow when it's elected? Obama winning will probably mean every newspaper cartoonist and editorialist will be out of work--because essentially, they'll have gotten what they've been crowing so loudly about. Every punchline in the editorial universe just dried up. Except at Redeye, of course.

And if you disagree with me, then you're a probably a racist and worse than Hitler.

I have a Dream

Al Sharpton Emerges from Burrow, Declares One More Year of White Guilt

It's become a tradition. On the 22nd day of every January, the Reverends Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson crawl out from their respective burrows. If they don't see their shadows, it means that Dr. King's Dream is yet unrealized, and White America must spend another year flagellating itself for the sins of slavery. If, on the other hand, their shadows do appear, then Dr. King's Dream has at last been realized, and both of these well-respected Black leaders will fade into obscurity.

Sadly, Al Sharpton's elusive shadow was a no-show again this year. Dr. King's Dream, it seems, is still unrealized.

"There are many who have said we are beyond race," Sharpton explained to the disappointed crowd. "But what happened in Jena reminded this country you still have not dealt with the problems of racism."

Sharpton was, of course, referring to the infamous "Jena Six" incident in which six African-American students ambushed and beat a White teen unconscious, then continued to kick and stomp him until they were arrested like common criminals. To the astonishment of everyone, the Black students all faced counts of second-degree attempted murder, while the White boy was never charged - neither for the rape of Tawana Brawley nor for the aforementioned sins of slavery - sins which he has yet to atone for by sending Al Sharpton a check.

So yes, even though Hillary is poised to become our first Black Female President, I'm afraid that we have yet to realize Dr. King's dream of an America where gangs of Black teenagers can brutally assault White kids without any legal repercussions. Until we do, please continue to make your checks payable to the National Action Network or the Rainbow/Push Coalition.

OH--Nevermind

So in Stephenville, Texas, a dozen or so people reported seeing a large silent object with bright lights flying low and fast in their neighborhood. They're calling it a UFO, while others might call it a plane.

I've always felt that there are two kinds of people in this world: those who see UFO'S and the rest of us. The alarming fact of the matter: no one ever sees alien spacecraft in big cities or places where there's a decent Wal-Mart. Sightings of strange flying objects only occur in small towns - where there is little else to do but hope and pray for an anal probing. And maybe feel up a goat.

This is not an insult on any level.

In urban areas we have sightings of fat drunks in big GMC’s making phone calls on their cell phones to people they hate and because they drive so fast they too can be confused with UFO’s. The good news is that at some point they run into a stop sign or a red light and the mystery of the hulk with lights being driven by the blimp with a cell phone is solved. And that’s not an insult on any level too.

Small towns are great because it's quiet and the beer is cheap - two factors that allow for wishful thinking. See, to me UFO's are the small city version of big city recycling. Because although I'm sure recycling exists, I've never seen it.

Seems like it all goes into one bin, local yokels with a beer in their hand looking at the sky and fat guys with a beer in one hand and a cell phone in the other gazing out a windshield through blood shot eyes. Same difference

It's not that I don't believe in UFOs. It's just that I have enough problems with things I can identify. I don't need the unknown to complicate matters. I see things outside my house and office that are all too real, and disgusting. And sometimes they fly. They aren't UFOs. They're pigeons. And they can't even work a probe. Sadly.

My new Scarf

I bought my first scarf ever in the UK, at Selfridges for £38. It was brown and tan, heavy Scottish wool with tassels on each end. This Christmas I got a new scarf which is orange but similar in how it’s constructed. In America, every person owns a car, possibly two. In the UK, every person owns a scarf, possibly 20. By wearing a scarf, I have become instantly 432% more stylish than before.

And more trustworthy. Scarves, for some reason, make you look like someone who "cares'. In America, when I was at parties, no one trusted me to hold their babies. If anything, they kept their children away from me. But now that I wear scarves, people are literally hurling their infants at me.

In America if you wear a scarf you are assumed to be a homosexual, especially if you happen to be wearing the scarf while having sex with another man or you live in Florida and the current temperature is 80 degrees. In England it doesn't matter if a scarf makes you "look gay", because most British men in the city "look gay" already.

Satire Alert (for the terminally stupid)

New Jersey Finally Apologizes for Slavery

After 160 years of stubborn denial, New Jersey is just now getting around to admitting that slavery was wrong and has officially apologized for it. This is fantastic news for former slaves who have been sitting around all this time patiently waiting for some sort of mea culpa. However, there is still no word from any former slaves as to whether the apology will be accepted. In fact, they have remained strangely silent for decades.

Is it any surprise? If you were abducted from your home, shipped thousands of miles across the sea to a cruel and hostile land, thrown into chains, and then constantly pulled over by State Troopers for no reason whatsoever, I expect you'd be a little reluctant to have a friendly chat with those responsible your suffering. After what America did to them, I wouldn't blame the former slaves if they told New Jersey to stick that apology up it's rich White ass.

Life's a Bitch--Let's not elect one.

So, while watching the debates over the weekend, I figured out why Obama is rising in popularity, and why Hilary is sinking like something that sinks. Obama doesn't have to do a damn thing but sit there and look pretty, and we love him. And Hilary doesn't have to do a damn thing but sit there and look constipated, and you hate her.

In a nutshell: Obama is a stripper and Hilary is your wife. Think about it. When you go to a strip club, you see the very best attributes of the stripper you're ogling. You see her curves and her implants, but you see none of her problems. You don't see her meth habit, her biker ex-boyfriend, the box of severed ears she keeps in her closet. But with your wife, you are familiar not with only the good, but with the bad. The very bad. And this is why men sometimes prefer strippers to their wives.

But, once you leave your wife and start dating a stripper - you quickly find out that she's far worse than your wife could ever be. Your wife doesn't eat her own hair, for example. If the elections were held now, Obama would probably win - which is essentially like marrying a stripper after spending a weekend with her in Vegas, doing lines off her butt. But unlike that entirely made up scenario which definitely didn't happen to me in 1992 when I had long hair and a competitive bobsled racer's physique, a quickie election can't be annulled. If you tie the knot with Obama, as shapely as he is, you're stuck with him for at least four years.
And that's why I recommend ditching both of them and voting for me. I promise a unicorn in every pot and a turduckengal in every bed.

And if you disagree with me, then you sir, are worse than Hitler.

Alone again

OK--so I'm bored and not feeling all that great so I'm reading a lot of crap I have accumulated over the last month and didn't read. I can't watch television because television with the exception of football is stupid and some shows like The Simpson's could lead you to believe that a gun in your mouth is the only answer. It's hard to believe what people watch on TV---ah---but I digress.

This might be the weirdest study I've read in the last fourteen minutes. Researchers at the University of Haifa in Israel report that if you're going to experience helplessness, it's best to do it alone. They figured this out by giving electric shocks to rats -some in pairs, and some alone. The rats shocked in pairs coped less well than rats shocked in isolation. By "coping," I think they mean how well the rats adapted to life after the trauma. The rats that were made to feel hopeless – by being isolated– actually got on better. They resumed their life of leisure – eating cheese, and watching rodent TV. I hear they love Frazier.

As an aside, if being alone is good--I'm great! So just bring on the taser because by reading this last survey my life will improve dramatically and quicker. To what it doesn't say but what the hell?

Anyway I love experiments with rats because they remind me of my fellow man. Think of the scrappy solo rats as the greatest generation, and the whiny loser rats as the Age of Aquarius. Or think of it as John Wayne vs. Woody Allen. Or Ronald Reagan vs. Hillary Clinton. It comes down to this: Faced with adversity, do you, (a). Toughen up and get back on that wedge of cheese or (b) roll over and urinate on your wood shavings. If the former, you tend to accomplish more in the long run, like say, winning World Wars; if the latter, you usually end up saying things like "Why do they hate us."

Of course, when mice say it, it just sounds like a bunch of squeaking. Not unlike the Josh Groban.

Baby Namer

I have these friends Franchesca and Scott who about to have their first child. Francine refuses to tell me the names they have picked out for the baby, however we know it's a boy as they have spotted his schmeckle.

So, I just read a poll of roughly 1,200 moms, in which10 percent of them thought about changing the name they'd given their babies. They had a lot of reasons – including mainly, regret. The researchers say this is common – especially if you've bought fourteen books on baby-names, and suddenly you realize that after six months, junior isn't really turning out to look like Huckleberry Prawn. But more like Jeff.

I'm one of those people that whenever I'm asked for my name like in reservations or just at the bagel store for my order I always give a different name. Yesterday I was Murray and today I shall be Soho because I feel a little New Yawkish. Tomorrow I intend to call myself Gland and that's to punish myself for something that is none of your business yet it's easier to give yourself a stupid name than put an ice pick in your ear. A lot less painful as well.

And this is the central problem with parenting, and with civilization in general. We're selfish. We do things strictly based on how they'll touch our lives – not others. We name our kids not on how we think it might affect them, but how it will affect us. Hence parents will think about how boring it sounds to say, "This is my son, John," as opposed to "This is my son, Atomic Strawberry Sauce." And so you're left with a pile of pillows, towels and picture frames monogrammed with the letters A.S.S., when you should have probably just worn a condom.

Me, I have five kids only one of which still resides with me, and from now on whether he likes it or not I'm changing his name every year. That way it keeps the relationship fresh, and I won't be tempted to start parenting outside the home. Plus, the name can suit whatever phase they're going through at that time. All Toddlers shall be known as Smelly. As a preteen, I should have called him Ignacio, and as a teen, this year he shall be known as "Slave with Xbox". My parents did the same for me, and look how well I turned out.

And if you disagree with me, you sir, are worse than Hitler.