The World O' Crap Archive

Welcome to the Collected World O' Crap, a comprehensive library of posts from the original Salon Blog, and our successor site, (2006 to 2010).

Current posts can be found here.

Saturday, June 28, 2014

Small Brain, But He Makes Up For It With An Enlarged Prostate

It seems that no college will dare ask professional coot Burt Prelutsky to deliver its commencement address because Academia is controlled by a liberal cabal, but who really cares anyway, because those speeches are composed entirely of tin-eared platitudes and stunningly dull advice,which Burt could totally supply if you’d just ASK him!
But he’d still turn you down, because kids today want to be coddled, and flattered, and told they have a future and a chance to do great things with their lives, rather than hear the hard, bitter truth that they’re all vapid morons who just wasted four years of their lives and $100,000, when they’d be better off dying right out of high school and thus reduce the surplus population.
How could I, in good conscience, promote such nonsense when so many of them have squandered their parents’ hard-earned money majoring in such kiddy fare as black studies, Hispanic studies, lesbian studies and binge-drinking?
But if Burt did deign to address the graduates, he’d discard the vapid congratulations and phony uplift in favor of some tough, real world wisdom:
First, I would advise the grads to always slow down when leaving their phone numbers on answering machines. It’s at the very moment when people should be speaking slowly and distinctly that they usually turn into motor mouths. I can’t tell you how often I have had to replay messages eight or nine times while trying to decode something that sounds like seventhreefoureightsixninefive.
But young people nowadays won’t swallow the castor oil of cruel, but helpful home truths like this.  They just want to sit there “gazing goo-goo eyed at Barack Obama as he utters endless banalities about hope and change.”  Meanwhile, at that very same moment, all over the country, millions of people are having to hit the Rewind button on their answering machines.  Oh, Irony, you are indeed a harsh taskmistress.
Next, when giving someone directions, don’t just say “Take Sixth Street to Lipton Drive, turn left and go south to Main. Then take a right on Main until you reach Harper. It’s on the southeast corner. You can’t miss it.” At least until the great come-and-get-it day when everyone has a navigational system in his or her car, you must learn to indicate the distances the person is going to have to drive on Sixth, Lipton and Main.
GPS is just a fancy way of saying socialized cartography!
And, finally, as I gazed out over those fresh, young faces, I would advise them to have nothing whatsoever to do with people who insist on using their computers to send Instant Messages.
If you can’t take the time to write your Instant Message out in Fortran, then mail the punch cards to your pal so he can load them into his IBM 704,  then you don’t know the meaning of the word “friendship.”
I never believed Al Gore when he claimed to have invented the Internet, but I never doubted for a moment that he had a lot to do with foisting IMs on the rest of us. It has his carbon fingerprints all over it.
“That’s called ‘closing with a joke.’  Yale, Harvard?  I await your offers.”
Posted by scott on August 11th, 2008

L’chaim! L’Mavet!

We’ve had a pretty busy weekend, taking in Eddie Izzard’s show at the Kodak on Friday, then catching Paul F. Tompkins at Largo on Saturday with our friend Elizabeth, and to be honest, my vivant isn’t as bon as it used to be.  So let’s just check the cornucopia of low-hanging fruit and see what looks squishy and rotten…
Does She Or Doesn’t She (Tuck And Tape)?  It’s cross dresser meets hair dresser in the wackiest romantic comedy of the summer.  “It’s like Priscilla Queen of the Desert meets The Crying Game,” says Premiere magazine.  “Except with more suicides after the press screening.”
Okay, you know what…lower.  Need lower fruit…
Ah!  Pastor Swank!  Perfect for a late Sunday evening snack!
swank.jpg Death to life
As Jesus Christ gave Himself every minute to the Father agenda, so Jesus died out to His own zeal.. He was human, as we are human; therefore, He was tempted in all areas like as we. But He did not sin. He did not yield to the allurements of self-governance.
Remember kids, Democracy = Sin.
Jesus made certain that at every turn — especially when applauded by the masses for miracle producing — that He did not permit Himself to be fooled. He refused the forbidden fruit. He would not bite into that which was hanging on the forever tree in the center of the world’s garden.
I remember when my folks were redoing the yard, my mom wanted to to plant forever trees in the front garden, but fortunately my dad convinced her to go with the Chinese maple and the weeping spruce.
Jesus allowed His very being to be baptized into a sanctified plot outside Himself. He would know nothing until it was revealed to Him.
Jesus was a big believer in spoiler alerts.
This same Jesus has become our Model.
And his swimsuit calender is selling extremely well.
He invites us to be baptized into the death to our own zeal.
Um, gee, I’d love to accept, but I’ve got a wedding to go to…
How many within the courts of religion are overcome with their own zeal? Their energy drives are at fever pitch daily. For what? For the praises. They even hunger for audience approval in the name of Jesus Christ. They have become accustomed, even addicted, to this explosive feeling of ego achievement.
I must say, Pastor, that I’m glad you’re taking the time to expose these attention whores in one of your 5 daily columns posted on 8 different web sites.
The purpose of the cross is to teach this lesson of zeal submission.
Unfortunately, the WWE has ruled “zeal submission” an illegal hold.
Consequently, spiritual leadership must scour their motives to make certain that death to personal drive is real, that they have been baptized truly into the death of Christ in order to know His holiness in life.
God has already proven Himself two thousand years ago. Death was followed with life. Jesus was there to reveal it. Disciples saw and handled it.
Some people freaked, but the disciples, they were totally chill.
Life! “I am the. . .the Life.”
I don’t meant to be critical, but the guy spends three days in a tomb, nothing to do but rehearse, and he still forgets his line?
We then have hope. It is the believing that makes the glory possible. Faith is power in that it propels component into component according to heaven’s scheduling.
But reserve your components early, because heaven’s always overbooked for the Labor Day Weekend.
Yet we want to mix things up so as to be wiser than heaven. We have a plan and it should be thus and that.
Well I think it should be this and those, and I’m willing to schism over it!
We also have a calendar on which to pin the plan. Therefore, we bring this blueprint to heaven for heaven’s smile. We even beg for heaven’s approval. Sometimes we ask other believers to engage their intercessions with yours in order to convince heaven by our amassing numbers.
All this is “of the flesh.”
Indeed, the gracious God is kind in permitting certain glimmers of life even in the baptism to death. Jesus saw the life even while dying.. He saw the life come into the repentant thief’s eyes, then his soul. That was encouraging to Jesus even while tied to the tree.
Wait.  I thought he was nailed to a cross…?
Jesus saw the tearful allegiance of mother Mary, crumpled at the cross’ hole in the earth. As Jesus, Son, looked on at mother’s woe, yet mother not leaving her Son to desertion, Jesus was consoled even while in the last agonies of Golgotha.
Lucky him.  My mother would have gotten bored after half an hour and gone to the 7-Eleven for a pint of Popov and a pack of Bensen & Hedges.
Jesus saw the Roman soldier begin to move away from a callused empire-loyal heart toward recognition that the hanging One might be the long-awaited Messiah.
Yeah, but that Roman soldier thought the same thing about one of those hanging Bill the Cat suction-cup dolls.
There is the newness of life budding even now in your distress. See it. It is there. Then it vanishes.
Newness of life is clearly fucking with you.
At least in this brief time frame, there is more for you to learn from the awful cross cut into your soul’s shoulder.
So, my soul is into self-harm. That's a relief, I thought it was bursitis.
Nevertheless, the newness is birthed where you are now. It will come into full life in heaven’s calendar.
Have faith.
It is true just as it was true in the biography of Jesus Christ.
I’ve got to stop watching A&E.  It’s starting to make no sense whatsoever.
Posted by scott on August 11th, 2008

K-Lo: The Wank Of The Anti-Wanker Posted by scott on Au

K-Lo apparently went on a bender over at Planned Parenthood last night, and is now suffering the typical Saturday morning remorse.
Planned Parenthood took me “Down There” and exposed it all.
By the way, I hope you all got laid last night, because I doubt anyone is ever going to want to have sex again after exposure to that sentence.
A new campaign waged by the abortion provider is as crass as its name suggests. But it is more than that. It is an expose — in that most pithy and au courant of forms, the Web video — of why we get nowhere in America when we talk about sex education.
By “we” she means “I” and by “talk” she means “suppress” and by “sex” she means “abstinence” and by “education” she means “a rank bouillabaisse of unproven assertions, widely debunked myths, outright lies, and flagrantly unconstitutional proselytizing.”  Phew!  That K-Lo-to-English dictionary is paying for itself.
The “Take Care Down There” campaign consists of Web videos of young people talking about threesomes and sexually transmitted diseases, because that’s all kids could ever chat about, right? An awkward older man suddenly enters the picture and dispenses advice — say, how to use a condom — to the eager teens, sparing no one’s delicacy in the process.
Let us recite our Abstinence Only Vow:  Death Before Indelicacy!
For Planned Parenthood and the anything-goes ethos it represents, young people are always going to have sex. In their worldview, there’s no reason for live if you’re not going to mimic the rutting bachelorettes of “Sex and the City.”
Damn, and I’ve been searching for a reason for live.  Oh well, back to Memorex.
I would have hesitated to brush with such broad strokes until I watched the abstinence video on the “Take Care Down There” Web site.
“It taught me that often you can get much better results by alternating small, feather-like strokes with the big, broad ones…”  Unfortunately, K-Lo’s mood was shattered when a girl in the video brought up the benefits of masturbation over pre-marital sex:
She adds, “Plus, it’s not like I can get me pregnant or give me diseases or something.” Older dude walks in and tells the girls “abstinence can be a beautiful thing. It’s kinda’ like being a virgin all over again.”
Whoa, there. So to Planned Parenthood abstinence means masturbation?
Abstinence means you do NOT touch your Pee-Pee or your Hoohah!  EVER!  Not even to wipe!  Or to adjust the all-male bundle on a hot day.  Keep your hands and arms above your waist at all times!
No wonder they think abstinence education is a total waste of time. They can’t get their minds out from Down There. They can’t believe that if you challenge young people to want more than what they see on television and in the movies, they’ll take you up on it. Planned Parenthood just doesn’t get it. Abstinence education can never be about simply saying, “Here’s what you can do so no one gets pregnant but you can still get some sexual kicks.” It has to be part of a greater education: a character education. A physical education. A moral education.
If you want people to resist a basic biological drive, don’t give him or her a harmless substitute!  That’s like giving methadone to a junkie.  As studies have shown, the only way to cure a hopeless heroin addict is to prevent him from ever ingesting any kind of drug, including antibiotics when he’s got pneumonia or over the counter analgesics for a headache.  Well it’s the same way with pleasuring yourself.
 A proven gateway to smack.
Planned Parenthood and most other sex-ed programs try to find a stopgap solution, attempt to repair kids’ warped view of sex while still allowing them to watch “One Tree Hill.”
I had no idea how just wide Planned Parenthood’s tentacles really stretched.  In addition to dispensing contraceptives, apparently they can control your television set, just like that bossy voice from the opening credits of “Outer Limits,” and they also get to decide whether your teen can stay up until 9:00 (8 PM Central).
But prophylactics and STD awareness aren’t the fix that kids need. We must teach our kids to treasure all their gifts, to see themselves as complete persons who have tested values that won’t be compromised in the face of peer pressure or biological urges.
We need to find a way to make monastic self-denial the next cool teen fad while still using sex to sell crap on TV.
The girl in the Planned Parenthood video is, of course, right to say that her night at home won’t give her disease or a baby. But it’s no way to live.
Ah, at last!  A subject on which K-Lo can speak from experience.
She’s cutting herself off from others. She believes she lives in a world in which sex or simulating sex are the only options on a Friday night. There are, of course, alternatives, and good ones at that.
I hear miniature golf is popular.
If there weren’t, all married couples would get divorced after only a few years of nuptial bliss.
Because once you’re married, you’re no longer allowed to masturbate.
The bottom line is that responsible educators need to be doing more than nagging young people not to have sex.
They need to also nag kids about not jerking off.
Of course that won’t work. Teens are not stupid; they’re human and know there’s something appealing about it, and they shouldn’t be told otherwise. But they should understand that there’s more to want, and that they should hold out for it — for love, commitment and fulfillment.
Our young people should be given the wisdom and the tools to rise above their baser instincts and achieve a deep, mature, lifelong commitment, a pure, spiritual union, like the love between K-Lo and Mitt Romney’s hair.
Posted by scott on August 9th, 2008

Well You See, Billy, When A Low Rent Pundit Loves A Candidate Very, Very Much…

Kyle-Anne Shiver has been quite prolific this week.  After joining the party at Pajamas Media (“Sending the MSM down the river…Then putting its hand in warm water and freezing its bra…”), she’s back in her usual slot at American Thinker, doing what she does best:  Thinking American:
If Barack Obama presents a target-rich environment in his inflated balloon of media hype over one non-accomplishment after another, John McCain presents the opposite.  No hype.  No hot air.
Actually, by this point I think he’s mostly filled with sawdust.
No blathering, bloated claims about ethereal change and meaningless hope in government to save us.  None of this Hollywood stuff for McCain.
Except for his appearances in Wedding Crashers and The Tony Danza Show.  But in his defense, he sulked in his trailer most of the time and wouldn’t make small talk at the Craft Service table.
McCain is scrappy.  He’s a scrounger.
In fact, he’s in your garbage can right now, gnawing on an avocado pit.
He’s downright humble.
Unlike Obama, the Harvey’s Bristol Cream of candidates, who’s downright upright.
Rather than touting his formidable experience, or the fact that he has had three sons in the military
While Senator Obama still refuses to send his 7 and 10-year old daughters to fight in Iraq.
…John McCain presents a true model of decency, self-respect and laudable humility, in the same all-male bundle.
Vote for McCain:  He’s like that bandana full of crap that hobos carry on a stick.
The more I read about John McCain, the more I realize that he embodies so much of what we Americans regard as our exceptionalism of character, our grit and determination, our willingness to strip down to brass tacks to achieve a worthwhile goal
While I don’t personally relish the idea of John McCain stripping, I suspect that deep down, Kyle-Anne would enjoy a peek at his masculine bundle.
…our utter disdain for royal celebrity accoutrement in our leaders.  John McCain is American to the marrow of his bones, going back generations, and evidenced in every sphere of his life.
Vote for McCain:  He’s made from generations-old bones filled with marrow in a sphere.
When the chips were down, did McCain call his celebrity pals in Hollywood to ask for advice and a quick, fancy prop-up and money, money, money?
Does McCain even have any friends in Hollywood?
Probably not.  Once you get to his age, most of your friends are dead and buried.
John McCain flew to Iraq to celebrate Independence Day in the privileged company of those he has always loved best, his fellow men and women in America’s Armed Forces.
He loves them so much he’s never called them a cunt.
A fancy gym?  No.
8 houses, but the in-home gymnasia are really quite basic.  Mostly free weights and jacuzzis.
Shopping?  No.
That’s the Sugar Mama’s job.
A bunch of Berliners to cheer him on?  No, no and heck no.
I love this guy!
Why does she suddenly sound like the drunkest guy at a bachelor party?
McCain’s Country-First life is a winner.   I’m not sure we deserve him, but I sure do hope we get him for our next Commander In Chief.
See, I think that’s a mistake.  If we go into this believing we’re not worthy, and wondering why he’s with us when he could obviously do so much better, then he’s just going to smell our low self-esteem and eventually leave us for some younger, prettier country.

Posted by scott on Friday, August 8th, 2008 at 6:29 pm.

4 Responses to “Well You See, Billy, When A Low Rent Pundit Loves A Candidate Very, Very Much…”

Holy shit. That started awful and managed to get worse. Does she write her columns in a room filled with 90% cliches and 10% helium?
Actually, by this point I think he’s mostly filled with sawdust.
See, now, that was mean. Probably not as mean as referring to one’s wife as a trollopy cunt, however. And far funnier. But that’s because Scott, being the anti-Kyle-Anne, starts great and gets better.
he embodies so much of what we Americans regard as our exceptionalism of character…strip down to brass tacks to achieve a worthwhile goal>
Well, according to the “McCain model” this would include dumping your gimp wife and marrying a brewery heiress, no?
No hype. No hot air.
Right. Because a glowing reputation as a “maverick”, created almost entirely by the press, and demonstrably false on its very face, is the very epitome of genuineness.
If this:
In fact, he’s in your garbage can right now, gnawing on an avocado pit.
didn’t make me thank the lord above for you today, this:
Obama, the Harvey’s Bristol Cream of candidates, who’s downright upright
certainly would have. Yay, Scott! have a good weekend.
Bumper stickers. A whole line of bumper stickers. Immediately. You’ll be rich!
“He loves them so much he’s never called them a cunt.”
And that, dear friends, is why I love World O’Crap so much.
I wasn’t so sure about this Scott guy, a coupla years ago, back over to the other joint, but hey, his movie stuff was funny as hell, why not.
*sniff!* *sniff!*
I just couldn’t be prouder.
Dunno what in the fuck a Kyle-Anne Shiver is (poor relation of the Shrivers? Or just perpetually thin blood?), or why on earth any cat would drag it home and hawk it up on the doorstep, but the piercing migraine of horribly, horribly WRONG “writing” (gag! heave! choke! retch! barf! kack! ralph!) can only be alleviated by one thing, only one antidote: The best snark this side of the Hollywood sign.
If I remember, I’m gonna use this quote for the Wampum awards next year… Somebody remind me.
We’re not worthy of having McCain as our president?Well, I guess it’s another reason not to vote for him.
Had Kyle-Anne Shiver been writing for 1950s-era Pravda I suspect that Stalin would have had her purged, for discrediting the current party line by trying to rationalise it with such sycophantic, self-contradictory bollox.
“John McCain presents the opposite. No hype. No hot air.”
A reputation created almost entirely by media hype and hot air, ironically.
It can’t be drugs. No drugs could enable her to write crap like that.
our willingness to strip down to brass tacks to achieve a worthwhile goal
like winning the Miss Buffalo Chip contest?
and if he’s calling them brass tacks no wonder he’s shagging Vicki Iseman
The more I read about John McCain, the more I realize that he embodies so much of what we Americans regard as our exceptionalism of character, our grit and determination, our willingness to strip down to brass tacks to achieve a worthwhile goal
…and our love of a good S&L kickback!
I’d say this pretty much caps off the “Hate-McCain-Oh-Shit-He’s-Our-Candidate-Love-McCain reversal, wouldn’t you?
I can’t imagine anyone getting more sycophantic that this little gem!
I’m not sure we deserve him,
Shit, lady, I’m positive we don’t deserve him.
Actually, by this point I think he’s mostly filled with sawdust.
Sawdust and flop-sweat. Maybe flip-flop sweat.

I’ll Have The Stuffed Crab Legs, The Twice-Baked Potato, And The Loaded Questions

Over at Pajamas Media, Kyle-Anne Shiver has unbuttoned the flap of her feety union suit and unleashed an amazing coil of rhetorical questions:
Can we adopt a more socialist approach to government and transform America into a state not of equal opportunity for individuals to create their own happiness, but a state where a nanny bureaucracy operates for the supposed “good” of its citizens?
You know, I’m generally uneasy with polling questions that contain scare quotes, but I’m sure you’re asking in good faith, so…
Can we accept tyranny by a rainbow proletariat of minorities and special interest groups who wish to mandate permanent entitlements for themselves?
Well I already prayed for the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, so I guess if the brown people want my plasma TV I’ll just have to get used to watching Burn Notice through the plate glass window of the appliance store.
Can we, as Americans, vote to hand over a huge chunk of our national sovereignty to international consensus and global taxation?
Yeah, let me get back to you on that one.  Oh!  I see your ride’s here.  Hey, why don’t you grab your stuff and I’ll go tell the black helicopter you’ll be right out…
Can we adopt the Marxist cause of the class struggle, the utopian fix for all that ills us
I sure hope that utopian fix works on grammar.
…and become part of a unified coalition of socialist countries around the world, in the hope that mankind can find Obama’s “collective redemption”?
I’m beginning to suspect the methodology of this poll may not be wholly sound.
Can we?
Geez, I don’t know, lady!  I just got here!
That’s not the question.
Thanks for wasting our time.
We’re Americans. We are our own government
Hey c’mon, Kyle-Anne, it’s Tuesday — it’s my turn to be the Air Force!  You have to be the Department of Agriculture, or I’m gonna tell Mom!
…and we, the electorate, decide what course we will take.
The last two times we decided to set a course straight down the toilet, but I’m sure we’ll get the hang of it eventually.
No change whatsoever is necessary to effect our own national will.
Not as long as our Green Lantern rings are fully charged!
We are a government of the people, by the people, and for the people. Always have been. Since the beginning.
You’re right.  Well…You’re 3/5ths right.
Obama answers the wrong question with his now banal statement: Yes, we can.
I’ll say.  The question was “What two countries are separated by the 49th Parallel?”
Because the question before Americans has never been, Can we become socialists?
The question has always been, can we do it while appealing to males 18 to 34 years of age?  So actually I guess the real question is, can we become socialists and still work in a bit of nudity?  Nothing tasteless.  Side-boob and butt-crack, that’s it.
Not only is Obama slipping in the national polls, but he received no discernible bounce from his highfalutin, veryexpensive trip abroad.
He acts like he’s so smart and everything, but not once in Iraq, Afghanistan, or Germany did he stay in a Holiday Inn Express.
Candidate Obama used campaign funds to take himself, the press, and a retinue of 700 — count them, 700 — campaign aides, first class all the way, on a trip that was luxurious by any standard, and at a time when many Americans could not even afford a small summer vacation due to very high gas prices.
Do you have any idea how much it costs to drive to Europe these days?
Despite the underreported fact that we have now all but won the Iraq War — the war Democrats prematurely declared lost— we are still at war.
I love the taste of victory.  It tastes like…cud.
Posted by scott on August 8th, 2008