Mandatory Sterilization (Yep, I said it)

I am a proponent of mandatory sterilization and here is why: (my true feelings mixed with some humor)

I believe that some people should not be allowed to breed.  For example, a while ago a mother left her two infant children alone in a bath tub while she was outside on her patio surfing the web.

Solution easy– tie her tubes, she shouldn’t be allowed to have any more children and take the one surviving child away from her.

Any time a mother or father does something this stupid, they should lose their breeding privileges and they should be sterilized.  Why should they be allowed the potential to harm any more children?  Makes no sense to me.

I mean when someone gets a few DUI’s or speeding tickets, the government takes your license away.  Why not sterilize then?  If a parent makes 2 idiotic life threatening mistakes in respect to their children, bring out the scalpel.

“But I didn’t think little Skeeter would get hurt if I locked him inside the house with my 3 pit bulls while I was out buying lotto tickets and getting another case of Natural Lite Ice, he is 3 years old now.”

Sorry dip-shit, put your feet in the stirrups, it’s time to get neutered.

I know what you are thinking…….“but surely there will be opposition from the people you are wanting to sterilize.”

Of course there will be opposition, but that’s an easy fix.  All you have to do is offer them cases of Mountain Dew, Benson & Hedges cigs, barrels of ranch dressing, gift certificates to Dollar General, or free tanning coupons.  That should do the trick.

“I didn’t know that if I left Betty Lou locked in the car while I ran into Cato looking for stirrup pants that she could get injured.  I mean I even turned the car off and rolled up the windows so as to make sure the engine didn’t make her hot.  It was only 95 degrees out.  I really needed them stirrup pants anyhow, I had to try on 4 pairs, I was only gone 45 minutes.”

Sorry miss, put your feet in the stirrups, it’s time to harvest your uterus.

Seriously, there are plenty of people who shouldn’t be allowed to breed.  Sterilization seems like a great idea to me.  Any thoughts??

Trump, the bad Ex strikes again

tumblr_inline_nzrlbglXpe1qf8pbv_500Wow, wow, wow.  Even with a Republican majority in the House, they still couldn’t present a passable healthcare bill to replace Obamacare.

Our President, the self proclaimed Great Negotiator, couldn’t get a deal done.  Surely, he will take some responsibility for this……………. uh, no.

That’s because he’s never actually been a great deal maker or negotiator of any kind.  He’s just a billionaire who boss-hogs his way through every deal he’s ever made others do.  Billionaires don’t negotiate, they tell the other side exactly what to do.   And then the other side with less money and less power gives in.

“We had no Democrat support. We had no votes from the Democrats. They weren’t going to give us a single vote, so it’s a very difficult thing to do,” said our fearless leader.

This is truly amazing.  Even in times of total control, the Republican party is fractured and a terrible mess.  Hell, they only had about six years to create a good plan.  Oops.  Damn Democrats getting in the way again (sarcasm).

So, the terrible Ex strikes again. Trump blames is inadequacies, his failures and his lack of deal making ability on other people.  Exactly how a bad ex would react; BLAME, BLAME, BLAME and BLAME.  It’s never their fault.

This is our President.  This is the leader of the free world.  This is a disgrace.

Scenes from a Waiting Room

Act I. (the elderly)
Old, musty ass wrinkled seniors wearing bad track suits, their lifeless, aged skin scarred with purple gum colored splotches hanging from their bones like loose sleeves,
a cell phone rings deep inside a purse underneath the dentures and coupons, by the time the old lady realized it was ringing, silence

Act II. (the soccer mom)
Frost dyed hair, way too tight Hollister shirt, tight faded jeans with pocket designs, elastic fake tits shaped into perfect round globes, husband at work banging his secretary who has even faker tits, but younger body
wife doesn’t care as long as she gets Starbucks 3 times daily,the phat mommy suburban with the cutesy family stickers on the back window showing how many people are in the family, the glowing quarter sized diamond earrings and the trips to Vail, easy to have no soul than to deal with reality

Act III. (the salesmen)
Bad cuff links that even gay dudes wouldn’t wear, fake ass smile accompanied by even faker greetings, slick gelled guido-like hair stuck to their scalps with paste, belts crushed by doughnut stomachs,
calling names like cattle and branding the innocents with fees

Act IV. (me)
Three freaking hours waiting for tires, brought a Bukowski book, could only imagine what he would have thought
I couldn’t stop staring, couldn’t finish reading, couldn’t play games on my cell phone, I just kept watching the train wreck evolve with every new person who came into the waiting room, no blood or body parts, crap.

Red, White and Boo (a poem)

I see your Katie Perry

And I raise you Beyonce.

What ever happened to real art, like the Fat Boys?

Now, just splendid drivel cascading from the youthful mouth

Texting, sexting, pursed lips and Jersey Shore dreams.

Find China on a map? Fuck You, I’m getting my nails done at 3.

Be careful young ones, the noodles and puppy nuggets are coming to a store near you.

I see your E Hollywood News

And raise you Dancing With the Stars.

Posting every mundane bit of your daily shit for all to see

Facebook, Twitter, MySpace your freaking life away

My eyes, dried and burnt from your “Do you like me?” poll.

Keep your pom poms clean and your cell phone charged.

I see your De-evolution

And go all in with your soul

Shouldn’t be difficult to call my bet

You are another failed demographic, another vapid target market.

Duh’Merica (a poem)

DUH’merica, what have you done?

While you parade the streets in gas guzzling suburbans, there are soldiers dying around the world trying to kill dark-skinned people after taking orders from fat, pasty-white politicians who only care about their offshore bank accounts.

DUH’merica, why don’t you care?

That our children have difficulty finding China on a map, but they can update their Facebook status perfectly while crossing a busy city street without getting splattered in traffic.

DUH’merica, why can’t you turn it off?

The Kardashians, TMZ, The Bachelor, American Idol, America’s Got Talent sift through the minds of our youth like a slow, neurotoxin eating them from the inside out. Continue reading

Melt (Glee on Ice), a poem

(just a little poem about the silliness that is television and pop-culture)

I wish, I could produce

Glee on ice

But I would heat the ice pieces

And watch them fall like cute, teen-aged bowling pins

Struck down by the real world to the ice below

Then I would scoop up the shattered pieces

into my extra large pan

And lock them in a vault

Forever.

Ramada Inn Tiki Bar (a poem)

(I wrote this a few years ago when I was staying at a shit hotel near Miami for work)

I ordered a Heineken and immediately I’m an alien.
“No Bud Light? No Miller Light?” They know I’m an outsider.

There are four men at the bar and me the fifth. Everyone smoking except for me. One guy is a New Yorker who recently moved here. Another guy is ex Navy, or so he says. Military guys always make sure everyone around them knows they were in the service.

Then two guys who could be gay, not sure, but they have that red-faced look that only seasoned alcoholics have and they are smiling weirdly at each other after each sip.

The bartender is tall, crack skinny with purple black, long hair and looks like she just came off of a meth binge. Her face is stained with pitted, shaded spots and she has a scar on her neck that probably came from a “dream” of bugs trying to scurry into her brain via her trachea.

The stories start rolling of their tongues like an AA meeting.

“Hello, I’m your bartendress Sylvia. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve been eating cat food for three days. I’ll suck you off for a burger, did you want another beer?”

“Hello my name is Ted, I’m from New York and my accent is fucking annoying and I’m wearing a Yankees shirt and I’m going to suck on this Marlboro Light like it’s a spearmint cock.”

“Hello my name is Sarge and I was in the Navy. I fucked a bunch of slant eyed bitches and you should thank me for your freedom, another Busch Lite please.”

“Hi, it’s me. I’m not pretentious, but holy fuck this is ridiculous. Thank god Karaoke starts at 8.”