DEGENERATE DIATRIBE

This Is Halloween

2011-10-31T08:40:00.000-07:00

The origins of Halloween can be traced back to some time before people had electricity and Playstations. Back then, instead of playing Crash Bandicoot or Bubsy 3D, we burned people. And in the case of Bubsy 3D, being burned to death was actually far less painful.

Halloween started when some guy gave a Christian poisoned candy corn, and spiraled out of control from there. It would be quite a few years before we took the poison out of the candy and started adding sugar instead, which sort of does the same thing to the human body. After that, one guy got really pissed off that the same guy would give him that gross orange liquorice every year, so he cut his head off and replaced it with a pumpkin when he got scared that the authorities would catch him. After the police came to the door, he tried to pretend like the guy was alive by carving a face in the pumpkin. And then it was kind of like Weekend at Bernies for awhile before the cops started to catch on.

So that is why we carve pumpkins every year. Why we put candles in them and stuff, I'm not too sure. You'll have to look that up.

So without further adieu, I wish you a Happy Halloween. So go eat some candy, kill a man, and replace his head with a pumpkin.

Or just eat some candy, I don't really care.

The Positive Qualities Of Illegal Drugs

2011-10-27T14:58:00.000-07:00

Many people lament drugs for some reason. They say they aren't productive, that they ruin lives, or even that they are expensive. Dried cough syrup from the edge of the bottle licked furiously at 2AM because your gums feel like they are growing over your teeth since the LSD is wearing off? Not expensive at all, friends.

I am not a drug user. Or a seller. No, those days, and the murders I committed with them, are long behind me. However, I can tell you one thing; drugs are a positive boon for our society.

Much like mosquitoes eat flies or whatever, so we shouldn't kill them (I forget how that goes) drugs keep our streets free of another parasite.

Yes, my friends.

I am talking about Yuppies.

Yuppies have become a practical epidemic. Then again, I guess that is not practical...but they are practically everywhere, anyways, and that is highly impractical for normal people like you and...well, not me.

Everyday when I would go downtown, I'd see them with their Starbucks coffee talking about business and money and ways to spend that money on other Yuppie women so that they could have big weird Yuppie orgies like that ass to ass scene from A Midsummers Night Dream or whatever. They are a despicable bunch, spending ten dollars on any given meal, and shining their shoes...with SHOE SHINE.

Drugs are good because crackheads like drugs. I guess that's where the term crackhead came from, but since all crackheads have brain damage presumably from severe skull fractures, it could go either way. So the crackheads take drugs, hang out on the streets, and pale, limp-wristed, caffeine driven Yuppies stay away because they know they will not be able to defend themselves from the wrath of a crazy person who thinks that they are a firetruck or a dinosaur, or some kind of hybrid of the two.

A fireosaur.

We need to keep our streets clean of the Yuppie DISEASE that threatens to devour our city. And this city needs a hero. But it actually doesn't, it needs an enemy. So that the people can turn their backs on Batman and so that...

Anyways, fuck Yuppies, I hope a fireosaur does drugs and then eats them with his drug teeth.

The Stay At Home Dad Guide For Completely Straight And Awesome Guys

2011-10-25T11:40:00.000-07:00

(Someone recent told me I should write a blog about homemaking from a Dads perspective, for men. I thought it was a good idea, but instead, I made this sarcastic, demeaning, degenerate bunch of words on a page. I'm sure this is better anyways.)

Hey Dads, more like fags! Haha!

I am a stay at home dad, one with a ROCKIN' daughter and a totally badass schedule! I am a man who gets shit done!

A bunch of humans with vaginas and boobs told me I could never do it. But I did! And I did it different, and better than they EVER could!

Why?

BECAUSE I HAVE A PENIS!

The thing is, everyone told me I couldn't do it. My mom, my grandma, the neighbour, her aunt, my second cousin Greg, some dog, and a guy. But guess what? They were fucking WRONG!!! I did it all without growing smooth skin and shedding my manly calloused skin plus my balls like a snake, crawling out of my old, discarded shell like a carpet worm, and evolving into a full blown woman.

AND I WANT TO SHOW YOU THAT YOU CAN DO IT TOO!

Sometimes I'll take my daughter out to the grocery store, and people will totally look at me weird. "How can HE take care of a child? He doesn't even have succulent nipples with which to jam in her toothless mouth hole to provide sweet, life giving human-juice." "He must be some kind of rapist who is kidnapping that child, I had better go get my Louisville Slugger!" and "Oh look, corn is on for thirty five cents." How did I deal with this kind of mental anguish?

SIMPLE!

All I did was bring a pistol with me into the store. I simply SHOT anybody who looked at me wrong, and eventually there were no more people around to judge me! And you can do the same!

When I take my daughter for a walk, it isn't a simple stroll down the sidewalk, looking at leaves and colors and the air and stuff, it is a rocket coaster roller ride TO FUCKING HELL. We blast through the streets like I have a starship strapped to my cornhole. No pussy lady walks for us, and she loves it! The screams and cries with pure ADRENALINE. And then I sit her in front of the TV and make her watch the helicopter scene from Apocalypse Now. This baby is NO BULLSHIT.

Sometimes I make bread, and I do it with AUTHORITY. It says to "kneed" the dough...haha, sure thing! If by "knead" you mean PUNCH IN THE FUCKING FACE ALL DAY AND DRINK A BEER.

I taught my daughter to play Call of Duty before she even knew what square peg and a round hole were. She frags more noobs in hardcore mode than any of you little faggots could even possibly imagine. Oh, what happened? Did she just shove a GRENADE UP YOUR ASS? Fuckin' right.

Sweeping, a womans jobs? Well there ain't gonna be no clompin' around in high heels, swinging a broom around like a limp wrist for me! That's why I bring the leaf blower in the house, full fucking blast! The dirt practically RUNS from me, and once I blew the cats whiskers off. My daughter got that fucking thing in her mouth once and her cheeks blew up like two balloons and she blasted across the room like Neil Fucking Armstrong. It all builds character in the end though!

Taking care of a house and a baby is different when you are a man, just as it SHOULD BE. Because only bitches and sluts sit around all day baking and cooking and cleaning, and why do I feel like there are constantly eyes on me? My wife took away my manhood when she went back to work! WHERE DID YOU PUT MY NUTS, CUNT? Did you crush them like my spirit, put them in your Long Island Ice Tea, and suck it back like a Harpy from the seventh circle of hell? I haven't seen grizzled muscle of another man for months, and the only action I've gotten has been from a Sears catalogue I rolled up and fucked; and those things cut like a bitch. My stomach feels twisted and I can smell my own sadness. All I want is my masculinity back, and you took everything from me.

EVERYTHING FROM ME.

I wish I was dead.

So join me next time when I teach you how to make a casserole from scratch, using only a blowtorch, a scalpel, and your own internal organs!

Your New God Is Greg

2011-10-24T21:19:00.000-07:00

I came to a realization today. God is real.

It's true.

Basically what happened is I was on the toilet reading a magazine. I was trying to make a number 2. I was absolutely sure I was going to have one because I ate psyllium fiber that morning. But then, something happened.

I DIDN'T.

It was in that moment that I realized the absolute unpredictability of nature. The chaos of this universe is absolutely unbound by any reasonable law. There are some scientists, usually old British guys or whatever, who might say otherwise. They usually write books, talk in an accent, and eat crumpets and stuff. But they are dead wrong.

There are things in this world we cannot ever possibly hope to understand. Things like math. And because math exists, and because I couldn't go number 2, I know that things are not the way they seem.

That is why I am starting a new religion. Since I haven't identified who, exactly, the God in our universe is, I'm pretty much just going to make him up. I read the Bible once, and it was fucking boring. The best character was the devil, because he didn't take shit from anyone. Christians are a bunch of loud, annoying wieners. But you can't have a Satan without a God, just like you can't have a Corn Pop without milk. So I had to make a God up.

His name is Greg, and he is a bird. I think birds are more than meets the eye. They look at you like they have no souls, and they are completely unpredictable. In that way, they are kind of like the universe. Plus they have feathers, and can fly. So they are pretty much what most people would aspire to be, I think.

Greg is merciful, but not a pussy. He's kind of like Jesus with a Hitler mustache. He is really smart, doesn't take shit from anyone, but only burns Jews when he absolutely has to. But he would also burn black people if he had to I guess. And white people, except I am white, so I would not want that to happen. So I guess Greg is a bit racist in that way, but it's cool; if you are cool with him, he will be cool with you.

There aren't too many rules. He doesn't like people who kill people, or people who steal things. But if you are like Aladdin, and have to steal bread, he won't chop your hands off. He understands those kinds of situations.

Greg's favorite food is spaghetti, and he likes chocolate, but only in moderation.

Apart from that, he only has a few simple rules.

1. Be kind to other people unless they fuck with you. Then shoot them in the face.

3. Eat your vegetables.

3. Hakuna Matata.

4. Stay the fuck off of my lawn.

I will work out the rest later.

If you want to pray to Greg, you can do so in one of two ways. You can leave a birdhouse and spaghetti in a tree in your lawn. Or, you can give me tons of fucking cash and kill yourself so that that shit won't be traced back to me.

I really hate typing "that that", but I saw it in a book once, so I know it's okay.

We Have To Get Together, We Have To Make A Change

2011-10-23T08:08:00.000-07:00

I have come to a fair and reasonable conclusion based on extensive research and calculated, analytically thought processes. I think all of humanity would agree with the fact that I am indisputably correct. If you are beginning to doubt me this early on, thinking to yourself, "boy he sure is confident, but I find it hard to take him seriously at all since he has said almost nothing about his end point up until now and appears to be rambling."

Well, you are fucking wrong, and an idiot, and stupid and a dumb idiot. I am not wasting time, I'm building to something. It's called dramatic effect or whatever. But some uneducated illiterate conformist slave piece of shit like you wouldn't know that. That's why you eat McDonalds and hang out with your mom all the time, because nobody can take you seriously.

Basically, the world needs to change. The travesties that have been committed recently are far too drastic for us to bounce back and form up as the collective society we once were. The people have spoken, their voices have been heard. And if we sit on our hands and wait around any longer, our hands will be hot from the heat coming from our butts and cold water will seem colder than usual for a few seconds. It's absolutely inevitable, and something we can't afford to risk.

If you are on board with my plan for change, I need you to post this on your Facebook, your Twitter, your Myspace, your Livejournal, your Yahoo! Group, and your ICQ. It is the only way we can spread the word. The people won't stand for it anymore, and we need to come up with a plan for change. The system has failed us more so than ever. You can research the problem using Lycos in Netscape Navigator.

This revelation came to me in an unexpected way. Basically, I was eating my corn flakes yesterday. Things were going well for the most part, with only a few minor hitches. And then suddenly, BAM. A spark. A moment of enlightenment.

I realized that I had hit the bottom of the bowl.

The bowl was empty.

I looked at the world around me, and wondered how such a thing could happen. Was it a sign? A message? After all, isn't that what life is all about? We are all digging down to the bottom of the bowl, with milk pouring down our chins as we noisily masticate upon dried corn particles, and then suddenly it is OVER! JUST LIKE THAT

That was when I realized I could no longer sit idly by as an observer, that I had to go out and do something. Not just for the world, but for myself. I didn't think I was important in any significant way, that the universe was much larger than me. But in that brief, brilliant moment, I realized the truth; that I was destined for something more.

We need to organize, to form a collective, to tackle the problem head on! When you look down the streets and see a homeless man happily picking his toes and eating the collected dirt within, what do you see? A homeless man eating his own filth? Or a piece to the puzzle that has long been forgotten, long been lost?

Personally, I see a beacon of hope. A catalyst for change. When a bird perches atop a great birch tree and looks down upon me with focused, serious fervor, I just know things are not right. And when a single tear falls upon his feathered cheek, and he flies away listlessly into the sun before being drawn forcefully into the engine of an approaching jet, I know only this; there is truly no justice in the world. Unless he was a bad bird, one who pooped on peoples heads. Then maybe I guess his death was justified.

I propose that we rally, that we set a date, that we get together and make a difference. The problem will not fix itself, my friends! The only thing we can do is unite, as one. Like a bunch of pieces of bread, but they are all together in a loaf, so when you unfocus your eyes, they look like one solid piece instead of a bunch of separate bread pieces.

It's the only way we can finally be free. It is the only way we can defeat our oppressors.

So I hope you will come together with me, start a forum, and begin to discuss the problem, the great elephant in the room that plagues us before it runs amuck and sucks everything up in its trunk and blows out the remaining bits of blood and bone all over some girls face. And then the trunk slaps her cheek with satisfaction before the elephant leaves to smoke a cigarette and call his buddies up.

I'll be waiting, friends.

I Feel Like We've Been Here Before...

2011-10-22T19:43:00.000-07:00

Oh yes. And it has been quite some time.

Truth is, way back when, I started a blog called Degenerate Diatribe. It began is an attempt at creative, humorous writing. As time went on, it sort of devolved into a nihilistic, pseudo-philosophical rant about Social Darwinism, and other concepts I was sort of infatuated with during a period of growth in my life.

Then I settled down, a lot.

It was about the point when I felt I crossed the line of political satire into territory of "oh shit, this stuff sounds downright illegal" when I nixed the project. I am exaggerating for effect, but to put it in simple terms...I just felt all icky about it. I pussied out basically, I tried to ride the backs of other, more subversive giants, and failed miserably in my approach.

Since then I have been doing other things, but for a long time, everything I wrote was pretty fucking vanilla. It wasn't until a recent rant that I realized I really needed a space - a space to spit vitriol in the form of deranged, degenerate diatribes - that I was ready to start things up again. I never said the cancellation was permanent, but at the time it was, and has been for well over a year, possibly longer.

There is a youngster inside of me, and not the one I cannibalized last week because the little fuck tried to steal my TV. The youngster inside me is a bit rebellious, a bit angry. I have always been known as a ranting son of a bitch among friends and loved ones, and they usually laugh more AT me than with me. But I embrace that kind of self-deprecatory humor, and I certainly don't mind indulging in it.

You can expect me to bitch about people. You can expect me to bitch about life. You can expect some well informed, and other NOT so well informed opinions on various things. But for those who actually know me on a personal basis, you can expect what I have always offered-

Complete and utter fucking bullshit.

And, to my very close friends and family, those who have known me for many years, you know I offer a perfectly serviceable alternative to you, as I always have, if you don't like what I have to say-

Get the fuck out of my face and go do something else, seriously, what are you doing here anyways?

To anyone just joining, to the people who don't know me very well-

Well, let's just say I won't blame you if you lose my contact information after reading the things I have to say. I'm not nice, not friendly, and I have been lying to your face the whole time about everything. Nice knowin' ya.