Oh Canada!

I'm not going to think about politics. I'm not going to think about politics. I'm not going to think about politics. I mean I have serious stuff to think about. There's school, there's my teaching, there's my baby on the way, there's....

Cheney said what? Oh you've got to be fucking kidding.

Reality check Bush, you get the super top secret for-your-eyes-only-tell-us-how-to-proceed-Mr. President shit. So, no, mother fucker, the god damned democrats did NOT have the same information about there not being any weapons of mass destruction that you did, and as it turns out, the majority of them were not informed which of your crony's companies would be tapped to rebuild Iraq, and not a single one, I'll wager, was told what a shot in the arm this war would give your fucking friends in the oil business, you lousy piece of shit! PEOPLE ARE FUCKING DYING BECAUSE OF YOU!!!

Of course, Bush does have a point. The democrats, swept up in the pro-war anti-middle East fuhrer started by Rice, Cheney, Bush, Powell, and Rove, signed just about anything they could to make themselves look like the pro-"get revenge" party. I mean, it wasn't like they were listening to every fucking country in the world sans-England about how this was a bad idea--and nobody batted an eye when they realized that our media was censoring the international response to our going into Iraq, but here's the big thing...

If the democrats had control instead of the Republicans, we would still be at war. Oi Vey! Ahem... What?!? Why do the democrats keep answering the question, "If we vote for you, will the war end?" with: "Nope"? I mean are these people absolutely stupid. Aim for the brass ring, you idiots--it's right fucking there!

Well, America, here is your choice: either you vote for openly evil, or closeted evil. Either way. Is it finally time for a third party--a serious one: the Non-Lobotomy League or something?

Can you explain this grade? Yes, yes I can

No shit, what is it about students at UMass-Amherst that they can take a bong wrip, start attaching words together at random, eventually come to a thought around two and half pages in, finish at three, not spell check, print something out on a printer that's running out of ink that only bears passing resemblance to the assignment you've given them (and may very well be a poorly written paper for some other class), hand it in without supporting materials, and still get mad at you for not giving them a passing grade. I had two of these yahoos waiting for me after class demanding that I explain myself.

Let me try...don't drink and write a paper for my class. Every paper you write should take LONGER than five minutes. There's a bunch of stuff I sometimes ask you to do called homework, do that! Spell fucking check!

In other news, I have a lurker who has emerged. Yeah!!! Welcome Nacho, Hertzliche wilkommen! I say this because as some of my usual readers know, most of the people who show up on my blog who I don't know are not always very nice. Anyways, glad to have you around.

Mass-holes

I realize that I haven't bitched about people from Massachusetts for awhile.

The problem with this line of thought is that it just really isn't understandable unless you are around people from Massachusetts, and if you are, you don't need my commentary.

The other day, however, I thought of an exciting new analogy that I figured I'd share with you. It happened when two Mass-hole women nearly walked right over my nine month pregnant wife who was having trouble getting out of their way. This happens all the time. Mass-holes will simply walk at you. They may look at you, they may not., but if you don't get out of the way, you are likely to get run over.

This happens less to me because I am pretty rude about it now. I don't say excuse me anymore; I say, "can you please move." If I walk into a place and a bunch of Massachusetts people are standing around a cash register, not really forming a line, I will now ask loudly, "Is anyone here in line?" At which point they look at me like I'm asking them to change an old man's dirty diaper, but they do line up, and that's all I care about.

Anyways, the analogy. The subject of personal space to a Massachusettsian is unknown. Imagine going up to someone and asking them to spell bourgeoise. Now, you think to yourself, there is no way they're going to spell that correctly, and you can, and so that sort of defines the difference between you and their thoughts on the subject--but it doesn't. Now, they might not know how to spell the word, and that would represent a difference between you and they. A more sizable difference might be if they'd never heard the word before. And an even more sizable difference might be if they began to spell the word but in Cyrillic. But no, in this analogy we're talking about the people from Massachusetts: they look up at you and ask, "what's spell mean?"