Happy New Year

Happy New Year, everyone!

I hope you have a great 2010.

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Since you're all missing out on the fabulousness that is me on Twitter, I thought I'd bring some samples of my awesomeness to you here, where you also never read. Merry Christmas to you! Now you can't say I never gave you anything.

no man can make you feel inferior without first dropping his pants and showing you that he has a bigger penis.

I've been thinking about organizing a Twitter Tea Party. Not for political reasons. I just like tea and I don't want to drink alone.

We could all use a little phone porn. Try saying that 10 times fast - "phone porn phone porn phone porn ..."

Why is it that all the drunk driving commercials only show white males as drunk drivers? Is it OK for women and black people to drive drunk?

I DO like strippers pretending to be in the army! Thanks!

@KhloeKardashian You guys live in a dangerous neighborhood or something?

Truth and logic never stopped a politician reaching for money and power before.

I still remember when they were screaming about a coming ice age. Then global warming. Now the excuse is "its both."

There's nothing sexier than a woman with Cheeto dust down her cleavage.

I can't understand foot fetishes. And I really don't grasp shoe fetishes. To me, that's like getting off to a really good set of car tires.

Do you think the Democrats in Washington D.C. who insist we all believe in global warming are baffled by the snow blanketing their city?

I can't even get a girl reaction in Hooters. How very, very sad is that?

Congress' only purpose these days is to serve as a warning to other nations and future civilizations not to do as we have done.

If a man is alone in the woods when he farts, will he still laugh?

Why do people keep giving me such odd looks when I tell them what I want for Christmas? What man doesn't want a blow job? It's perfect!

Why do feminists never encourage men to hire more hookers, thus transfering all of our wealth to women one poke at a time? Its so logical!

If paying higher taxes is patriotic, isn't ditching work to sleep late a "green" thing to do?

Only just now discovering that classical music is much better for falling asleep to than heavy metal. Who knew?

The bed is calling me, but next to it is a book which I know is going to win out. Why can't it count as sleep to lie in bed reading?

Pioneers, oh pioneers, have you your condoms? Have you your birth control pills, oh pioneers?

NCIS LA - because you can't make enough new versions of Miami Vice to satisfy the truly shallow among us.

How 'bout them Cowboys .... sucking

I wonder if I could fart whenever I wanted to, if I could suck my own dick, if I could have sex with all those women that Tiger is said to have, would I really want to? These are the mysteries of life.

Reality TV is shittier than regular TV. There, I said it. Now the secret is out.

I've just won a Nobel Peace Prize. It was in a box of Cracker Jacks. Awesome!

And now for some really, really stupid people ...

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I Must Change

It's time for a change. I can no longer be Angry Steve. I can no longer speak out about the insanity of the religious zealots of the Dogmatic Left and their forceful shoving of their god, The State, down everyone's throats.

I can never again express criticism of the Misandric Female Supremacist Hate Movement, hereafter referred to on this blog as The U.S. Department of Justice Office of Violent Femmes.

I can never again make reference to the fact that, while our Social Elites here in the United States of Hyphen-America obsess over race, sex ... oops, I'm sorry, can't say sex ... gender, sexual orientation, and any religious view that isn't Christian, there is something odd about their insistence that someone like Barack Obama, who is as much white as he is black, can only be recognized for the black half of his heritage. The same is true with Halle Berry.

And Tiger Woods? He's one quarter black, but to hear the American Media tell it, he's the greatest Black Man in the history of golf.

Well, to be fair, I think he may be the only black man in the history of golf. I'm not sure of that, but in the interest of remaining PC I will simply ignore it and move along to something else far less interesting and yet even more shallow.

Speaking of Tiger Woods, I will never again make any reference to Tiger Woods without also pointing out that he has victimized his lovely and faithful wife, Elin, who in no way, shape, or form can be blamed or held accountable for having justifiably tried to murder him with his own very expensive golf clubs. Nor shall I use the term domestic violence when discussing lovely Elin's enraged assault upon her unfaithful black husband, Tiger, because as we all know, it is politically incorrect to state that somewhere between one third to one half of all domestic violence involves a lovely and totally justified female knocking the living shit out of a despised and lowly male, sometimes resulting in his totally acceptable or even celebrated death.

Furthermore, from this day forward, I shall make every reasonable effort to shrink my own personal Carbon Footprint down to zero. This will likely require my death, but this is a small price to pay in order to Save the Earth from the evil that is Man.

I shouldn't have said Man. What I meant to say was Humankind.

Actually, I've been told that because the word Human contains the word Man, it is no longer considered Politically Correct either. I probably should have said Personkind.

Well, except that Person contains the word Son, and Son is just another reference to the Patriarchal system by which every man is a potential rapist and oppressor of women.

OK, so the word I shall use to refer to all of us is People.

OK, after Googling the word People I see that Jesse Jackson has declared the word People to be racist because he insists that whenever White People say People, they aren't thinking of any Black People in their minds, and thus it is a racist word. He insists that the proper word is Peeps. So OK, from here on out, I shall refer to all of us as Peeps.

Hello My Peeps, from this day forward I shall never again say anything even remotely controversial, angry, political, religious, or in any way, shape or form interesting.

So help me God.

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Loonies on the Path - XLVIII - Gay Mercedes

Dear Mister Silver Mercedes, you there with the pretentious car and the slicked back hair and your oh so carefully trimmed and perfect beard. I could see clearly what you are. I hope you can. This town has a large enough gay community that there is truly no reason for you to remain in denial about your true self. I could tell from the up close and personal view of you that I got as you practically tried to combine our cars and be with me that you are a man who worries over the tiniest of little details. You are a man who is all about appearances. You are a man who feels that you can do no wrong. Hence your choice of silver for the color of your Mercedes. You are a pretentious gay cunt.

What exactly did you think you were doing? You changed lanes into me and when I honked at you, you started to swerve back into your own lane, but then thought better of it and swerved back into my lane once again, pausing when there was less than an inch between your plastic doors and fenders and mine. We were so close that I could mouth “what the fuck” at you and you could clearly understand what I had just said. Or you could have if you had at least had the balls to turn and look at me like a man.

Oh sorry, I forgot. You’re one of those very girlie gay men, not the macho macho man type at all.

Love me, love my Mercedes

So what was the point of your decision to sit there, straddling two lanes at 70 mph and not giving me one more inch to get past without scraping your doors off? I have to tell you, Ma’am, if you don’t love your Mercedes enough to keep from scraping other people’s cars, I sure as hell don’t. I’ll be more than happy to adjust your paintjob for you as long as your car is in my lane and your insurance is going to pay me for my efforts.

Could you not hear my very, very loud horn? Did you have Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody cranked up at full volume in your car and thus could only hear the sound of Freddie Mercury screaming? Clearly you knew you didn’t have any more room to come over, though, right? Otherwise, why were you straddling both lanes and refusing to get back into your own lane? It was certainly clear enough in your lane that you could easily do so. Why continue the futile attempt at shoving me aside? I had a car on the other side of me and was not about to swerve out of my own lane and hit someone else simply to spare your Mercedes some paint damage. That’s all on you. The only one of us not in their lane was you. The only cunt on the highway at that moment was you. The only one in need of some car insurance and a traffic ticket was you.

I drove all the way past your pretentious German shitpile with my horn held down, and still you never got back into your own lane. You acted as if once you stuck half your car in my lane, it was yours and you weren’t going to let it go for anything. I can’t tell you how tempting it was to tap your fenders with mine and then just sit there riding next to you, giving you no possible chance of coming over at all. I have to admit, I was curious as to what you would do if I had just held my position there with my face parallel to yours, staring right at you as you oddly chose to look in the rearview mirror at no one rather than over at me, the person you were attempting to smash out of their lane. Clearly you aren’t a brave man. You seem to enjoy pretending to be brave using your car, but when your intended victim actually gets in your face and looks you straight in the eye, all pretense of being any kind of man at all evaporates and you avoid eye contact lest you inadvertently wet your pants in fear.


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Ant and Grasshopper

I grew up in a very conservative family. Dad made plenty of money, but he'd grown up believing that you never show your wealth, for any reason. This was unfortunate since we lived in a nice part of town and went to school with other kids whose parents also made good money, but were often less conservative about showing it.

I was raised to dress boring, like a good engineer-type, in clothes that don't stand out or shine. We drove boring cars. My first car was blue, of course, with 4 doors and nothing about it that might draw attention to it. Under the hood was a 455 cubic inch monster engine that would beat most of the musclecars my classmates drove. It also had a posi rear end and could roast the rear tires off with ease. It was the perfect representation of my whole family, boring and dull on the outside, with all the good parts hidden underneath so no one would suspect it was there.

My niece is nothing like the rest of our family. She has to have the best of everything. When she got her own car for the first time she got a bright green Mazda Miata convertible. Her clothes are always the latest fashion, the best brands, the tallest boots and the sparkliest shoes. Her hair costs a fortune, but I have to admit, it looks really good. She's all fuzzy collars, leather boots, long tinted hair, the latest and greatest of everything. She looks great. She shines, like a beautiful woman should. And so very unlike the rest of us.

Sometimes it feels as if every dime I make goes into my retirement account, or to the bills. I save plenty. I always have. I have no credit card debt. I own all my cars outright. I can't say I've lived an exciting life, but I've never been poor.

My niece is deep in debt, from various causes and for various reasons, some of which are truly not her fault. She has little money, but she lives a full life. She's enjoyed every minute of her youth and seemingly has few regrets. She lets her light shine as brightly as it possibly can.

I can't recall a time when I ever let my light shine as brightly as possible. These days my light is fading. It's nowhere near as bright as it once was capable of being, yet still I don't turn it on.

What makes us the way we are? What causes one person to dress themself up in the shiniest, brightest, sexiest, most expensive clothes, with perfect hair and perfect ... EVERYTHING, while another person dresses down, wearing old faded clothes that don't cost much, but don't look like much? Why does one person spend $100 to get their hair 'highlighted' and think nothing of the money because it looks great, while another feels guilty for spending $15 at some cheap haircutting chain that gives lousy haircuts?

Is there truly a population of people who were born to shop at WalMart, where the goods are cheap, and you get exactly what you paid for - crap, while another population was born to shop at Macy's or some other nice, but expensive place where the clothes cost an arm and a leg, but they make you look spectacular? Oh, I'm not talking about people who shop at cheap chains because they have no money and need cheap things. I'm talking about people who have the choice to shop at either store, but choose the cheaper one consciously.

Are there truly people born to be losers, while others are born to win? Or is it simply how we are raised to view ourselves? Perhaps its simply how we see ourselves regardless of how we were raised? My niece wasn't raised with the finest things, by any stretch of the imagination, yet she has always sought them out. Even in the hardest times, when it seems somehow inappropriate, she dresses like a winner. But somehow we always felt that she would come out on top in the end, so it was alright. As for me, I work in the world of IT, where computer geeks and technophiles herd together in their khaki pants, powder blue button downs and polo shirts, thick glasses, bad hair, and brown tasseled shoes, wondering why the hot women in sales, who glisten like Superstar Barbie, never give us the time of day. I know why, but I've found it pointless to try to explain to my commrades.

One of my computer commrades has even taken to wearing pink polo shirts to go with his fuzzy beard and fuzzy hair. WTF?

I know I'm a freak, raised by a father who rode Harleys back before riding Harleys was cool and thus it was looked down upon, and a mother who thinks the way to save money is not to use coupons, but to buy only the cheapest possible foods, including and especially steak, so that I grew up having no idea why people loved steak so much. It wasn't until I was living in Memphis, far away from my family, that I discovered what steak is supposed to taste like and that it shouldn't require any ketchup to make it bearable.

There is an old parable about an ant and a grasshopper. The ant works and works all summer long, storing away food for the coming winter. The grasshopper is lazy, sitting around enjoying himself all summer. When winter comes the grasshopper is hungry and cold. The ant is warm in the ground with plenty of food. It's a fable intended to teach the virtues of sacrifice and hard work. I've spent my life being an ant. I've watched grasshoppers driving past me in their leased Lexuses and BMWs, wearing their overpriced but stylish sunglasses and shiny clothes. I've seen their mansions and been inside to admire their $5000 plasma TVs in their museum-like living rooms. I've seen some of them lose their houses when our grasshopper economy, rigged by grasshopper politicians, stumbled and fell on its face.

A wealthy friend of mine patted me on the back when the economic disaster began, telling me he somehow knew that Mrs Memphis and I would weather this storm with little trouble. He's right, of course. It has hardly impacted us at all. Yes, we have survived. But the very man who patted me on the back is a grasshopper. He lives in a 4500 square foot million dollar home and drives a silver Mercedes which he complains is a piece of crap. He wears a Rolex and brags about the multi-million dollar deals he makes several times a year. He has weathered this economic crisis with the same percentage losses in the market that I have, only his percentages equate to millions of dollars. It pained him, but affected his lifestyle not one bit.

One thing I learned while working for the Big Alabama Bank is that the rich people at the top don't admire or respect ants. The big Bank Executives knew our individual credit situations - who was deep underwater in debt and who was living in sync with their means. Yet they never promoted the ants. They had no use for us. They shoved us aside and put their arms around the other young grasshoppers who were so far in debt for their boat houses, Rolex watches, Gucci shoes, ragged Lexus cars and ski boats that failing to make it into the upper echelons of management meant certain bankruptcy and ruin.

These are the people who wrecked the world's economy. These are also the people who seem to enjoy their lives the most. Perhaps I'm wrong, but grasshoppers seem to spend the majority of their lives having a pretty damn good time. Ants, meanwhile, worry a lot, often about possible disasters that never materialize. I'm not even sure that I would say that ants ever really live at all. We exist. We endure. We grow old and die.

So which are you, an ant or a grasshopper? And which do you think is best? Personally, I've grown tired of living the life of an ant. Yet I know it's deeply ingrained in my soul. Even as I open up a bit more here and there I know it's nothing compared to the grasshoppers. I will never be one of them. They certainly know this. It's written all over me.

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Happy Tiger Day!

Well gee, what's interesting in the news today? I can't think of a single thing.

Except, of course, for Tiger Wood's growing harem of hussies, hookers, and hustlers.

Tiger, the semi-black hero of American golf, mostly by virtue of the fact that he has some black in him, much like our current President, and also a tiny bit because he's exceptionally good at golf, has been held up to White America as a symbol, an example of Hollywood's mythical magical morally superior negro.

Yes, I know it's racist as hell. I didn't make this shit up. Drug-abusing Marxist movie makers in California did. Go yell at them.

So anyway, Tiger was held up to some pretty high standards. He's not just a great golfer, he's a god. He's not just good, he's perfect.

So, in response to these myths of the Superman of Golf, gold-diggers from all over came running.

Tiger had already married the wet-dream of most every red-blooded American man, Elin Nordegren, busty blonde Swedish supermodel AND identical twin sister of Josefin. Seriously, she has an identical busty blonde Swedish twin sister. She's a fucking porn fantasy come to life!


Tiger married Elin in 2003, after chasing her for 3 years, along with a long line of other single male golfers. He had now officially 'made it' in the eyes of every heterosexual male on earth.

You da man!

From the day of their marriage up until November 27, 2009, when Tiger mysteriously hit a tree while fleeing from his hot angry busty Swedish identical twin sister wife, Tiger was the King of the World. But when word got out that he'd been man-whoring around on her with some girl, and Elin found out about it, the King was all but dead.

Um, honey, why do you have my 9 iron - Oh shit!

Rumor has it that Elin went ballistic and ripped into The Tiger's face with her own considerable claws, before grabbing a 9 iron and swinging it at unknown parts of Tiger's body which may or may not have included his head. At this point, it is believed that Tiger grabbed his keys and ran for it.

For whatever reason, whether because Elin was walloping the windows out of the vehicle as Tiger was backing up, with Tiger subsequently swerving to avoid running over his angry wife, or because Tiger was drunk off his ass and barely able to control his Cadillac Escalade, he ended up smashed into a fire hydrant and a tree. Either Elin pulled him out of the vehicle and left him lying on the ground where a neighbor found him, or else he fell out of the vehicle and passed out on his own.

The scandal that resulted was enough to light up the airwaves. But that was only the beginning.

One by one, gold-digging hussy after gold-digging hussy came forward to announce to the scandal-craving world, that she, too, had fucked the Tiger.

Before long, there were enough women to form a new NFL football team.

Whether these women are telling the truth or simply seeking the spotlight, it hardly matters. The American news media is eating it up. Every day and every night the only story being reported with obvious gusto is the Tiger story.

In fact, even as I write this, the show I was watching has ended, and a show entitled "The Secret Life of Tiger Woods" has begun. But here's the thing: I don't care.

I know, I know, I'm suppose to be a big supporter of traditional marriage and the marital contract (did you know that if you misspell 'marital' it becomes 'martial'?) and thus get upset over someone cheating on their spouse. Yes, Tiger is something like one-fourth black and thus has been given extra love from our racist media, and you would think that this would inspire me to celebrate with extra Christmas glee when he is caught being a bad Tiger. Yes, his wife appears to have blatantly violated laws against domestic violence by assaulting Tiger in their home with a deadly weapon and I should be screaming for her arrest. Yes, yes, yes, I know all of that.

But I still don't care.

Tiger cheated on his red hot Swedish wife with a long line of hot women over a period of years. His wife found out and beat the crap out of him, landing him in the hospital. Now he's in deep trouble with his wife and sponsors.

Rumor has it that Tiger's similarities to Magic Johnson, the basketball star who bragged that he had slept with more than 1,000 women, were more than just coincidence. Tiger was going to Las Vegas and meeting up with Charles Barkley, pro basketball star who knows how to party just like Magic Johnson, and helped hook Tiger up with that lifestyle.

So I suppose there's a chance that Charles Barkley is at least partially responsible for Tiger's cheating and his wife's beating him up. He showed Tiger the ropes, or so they say. But I doubt the media is going to go after Mr. Barkley. He's never been viewed as America's King of Perfection.

Tiger is worth over $1 billion. His wife is subsequently worth at least half of that. I know they're suppose to have some kind of prenup, but be serious, this is America. She's a hot blonde female and he's a man. More than that, he's a man who is known to have cheated on her. That's all the excuses a PC judge needs to toss that prenup out. So far the word is that they plan to stay together and try to work things out. We'll see, I guess. I mean, whether we really want to see, or want to ignore it, the media is not going to leave this alone. So like it or not, we'll see how this turns out. But I still don't care. I'm just not interested.

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Today's Dose of Awesomeness

Today's lovely post, which is not about cheating spouses or groin-kicking Sandra Bullock or punching anyone in the face, is over at Burt's Stache. Please follow me down the yellow brick road and come see what hilarity I have written. Yes, modesty is my greatest asset. Modesty and total awesomeness.

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Oh No

I farted and it wasn't a fart.

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How Pumpkin Pie Is Made

It's Thanksgiving Day here in the United States of America. 

Thanksgiving is an American holiday, begun in 1621, in which we offer thanks to God for the fact that our pilgrims miraculously managed to survive yet another year in one of the harshest environments ever settled in early America, prior to the establishment of the city known as Detroit.

Today, Detroit celebrates "devils night" by burning the city to the ground and then living amongst the ruins. We've come a long way, baby.

But I digress.

The original Thanksgiving celebration was really little more than a 3 day party between pilgrims and American Indians in which it is likely that there was excessive drinking of alcohol, embarrassingly bad dancing, possibly some nudity and drunken sexual fumbling, and lots and lots of eating. Of food, I mean. They were eating food. There are no records relating to the eating of, I mean, relating to oral sex during the pilgrims' reign, although it is likely that some of this occurred.

Thanksgiving was not declared an official holiday in America until 1863, when then-President Abraham Lincoln, immensely unpopular at that time, needed a boost in the polls. He had already managed to kill off over half the male population of the entire North American continent. He imprisoned nearly a quarter of the remaining population of the northern United States in concentration camps for the crime of opposing his unpopular invasion of the Confederate southern States. His constant release of libelous letters "accidentally" leaked to the press in which he admits to hamstringing the Union army in an effort to sabotage his fiercest political rival, the very popular war hero, General McClellan did nothing to raise his standing in the eyes of the people, although it did lower their opinion of the General.

The original Thanksgiving Day pilgrims were members of the English Separatist Church, a Puritan sect that enjoyed a good leg of lamb and a beer. 56 Pilgrims and 91 American Indians joined together, stuffed their faces and got plastered. Then some of the women took off their tops and danced on the tables.

This is not officially confirmed, but we have reason to believe that it is likely true.

That Thanksgiving feast was not repeated again the next year. It was originally simply a celebration of having survived the previous year and come through with a bountiful harvest. The next celebration was in June of 1676 and is thought not to have included the topless table-dancing American Indians due to the large number of impregnanted women from the first celebration and various embarrassing nude photos on Pilgrim cell phones which eventually found their way onto the ancient internet.

One hundred years later, in 1777, the third official Thanksgiving celebration occurred. This celebration involved all residents of all 13 American colonies and thankfully saw the return of topless table-dancing Indian women and drunken impregnation by all. It was inspired by the recent victory over the British at Saratoga during the war for American independence.

George Washington proclaimed a National Day of Thanksgiving in 1789, although some were opposed to it (mothers of some of the girls who had turned up mysteriously pregnant in the following weeks.) There was discord among the colonies, many feeling the hardships of a few topless, table-dancing pilgrims did not warrant a national holiday. And later, President Thomas Jefferson opposed the idea of having a day of thanksgiving, allegedly out of fear that his no-good brother would use it as an excuse to impregnate every woman in sight, including Thomas Jefferson's own slaves. His fears turned out to be well-founded.

Thanksgiving was proclaimed by every president after Lincoln. The date was changed a couple of times, most recently by Franklin Roosevelt, who set it up one week to the next-to-last Thursday in order to create a longer Christmas shopping season. Public uproar against this decision caused the president to move Thanksgiving back to its original date two years later. And in 1941, Thanksgiving was finally sanctioned by Congress as a legal holiday, as the fourth Thursday in November.

And this, my friends, is why so many Americans are fat.

Recently, ancient video of one of the original Thanksgiving celebrations was discovered. The following is video believed to show the Navarro tribe, including famous Indian princess Elle, preparing for a Thanksgiving celebration in the Indian "city of angels" back in 1808:

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British Columbia Terrorized by Serial Sex Offender

A man walking alone near a McDonald’s in Langley, British Columbia, was dealt a savage kick to the groin in what seemed to be a random attack.

The assailant is described as a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, Caucasian woman aged in her 20s or younger, and likely a feminist. She wore high heels, (Steve Madden flouro green stilletos, approximately sized 7, according to a female witness who greatly admired the shoes) when she kicked her 22-year-old victim so hard that he completely left the ground and landed face-first on the concrete as one of his testicles ascended into his abdomen with the force of the pointed-toe kick.

Initially it was thought that surgery could repair the damage. Unfortunately, the violence of the kick had ruptured the testicle and the victim woke from anesthesia to the news that he had been partially castrated.

Police believe that this is not the first time that the assailant has struck, with three similar attacks reported in September alone.

According to the victim, who has declined to be named:

"She didn’t say anything to me. I thought either she is really disgruntled with her boyfriend and I was the first male she saw or she’s a feminist. My mom heard from some constables that this is the third time in the past month this has happened. One of the times happened at night."

The victim noted that his attacker said nothing to him, either before or after the attack.

"I don't think she really even saw me as a person. Or perhaps she has some strange accent that might have given her away? I don't know."

Langley RCMP are concerned that some men might not have come forward about the attacks, likely believing that there is hardly any point as the woman will undoubtably not be punished for her crimes anyway. Authorities are turning to a crime analyst to track the attacks, but aren't sure how to proceed.


Men walking in the Brookswood area may want to consider wearing a sports cup, after a man was randomly kicked in the groin by a woman in high heels last month. The kick was so violent, her victim has lost one testicle and had to be hospitalized.

The crime has police concerned and the young man warning he isn’t the only victim of this high-heeled sexual-assault queen.

“It was around 2 p.m. in early September and I was walking by myself to McDonald’s, which is just on 41 Avenue,” said 22-year-old “Ed” (not his real name).

“The girl was walking in the opposite direction as me and I didn’t think anything of it, when all of a sudden she laid the boots to it.”

In absolute agony, Ed fell to the ground, face-first, as his hands flew involuntarily to his violated genitals, leaving him unable to catch himself. He thinks he had lain there for around 15 minutes before gaining the strength to get up and go home. Before or after the attack, the woman said nothing.

“I'm concerned that nothing is going to be done. They aren't even sure what to charge her with. I mean, it's sexual assault, but they say the law doesn't define sexual violence against males that way. And if she's a feminist, it's a sex-specific hate-crime, as she clearly targeted me because of my sex, but they say they won't charge her for that, either. So what's the point of reporting it then? What are they going to charge her with, being really, really rude or something?”

As the assault is not the kind of thing men want to tell people about, Ed didn’t go to police right away.

The damaging blow to his testicles sent one of them up into his abdomen.

“I saw a specialist and I went into surgery believing they could bring my testicle down again, like in that movie "10 Things I Hate About You." But when I woke up from surgery I was given the bad news that it had partially ruptured and so they had to remove it.”

He will get a prosthetic in December, for whatever that's worth. But, from what he has been told, there will be a drop in his testosterone levels which will have life-long detrimental effects. Ed is coming forward because he wants the girl caught, even if he doesn't believe she'll be adaquately punished, because he doesn’t want anyone else to go through the terrible and life-altering things he has been through.

Langley RCMP are using their crime analyst to see if other attacks of this nature have taken place.

“There are undoubtably other men who haven’t come forward to the police,” said Cpl. Holly Marks. She urges those men to call her or come in if the woman has attacked them.

She said there isn’t a way for her to track if there has been similar attacks, and she doesn't hold out much hope that the prosecutor or judge will do much about this once the girl is caught, but if she isn't caught the attacks will likely not stop.

"She clearly enjoys this, like any serial offender, and isn't going to stop unless something or someone stops her."

Before the attack, Ed was ready to start working again after being off on work-related injury for a year. Now he’ll be off for at least four more weeks without any heavy lifting. After recovery, due to having lost a testicle, he will not be permitted to return to any sort of heavy lifting for the rest of his life due to high risk of hernia.

His EI has run dry.

“It has not been good,” he said.

Ed didn’t get a detailed description of the girl because he didn’t expect her to kick him. She is described as in her 20s, or younger, 5’5” to 5’7”, blonde, blue-eyed and Caucasian. He had never seen her before and doesn’t think he’s seen her since.

If you have information about this person or if this has happened to you, call Langley RCMP at 604-532-3200.

*** Clearly I altered small bits of the story to make it out to be a certain blonde Australian we all know and love, but in reality the girl is described as brunette, and no eye-color was given. The crime itself is not a joke or made-up. It is really happening. The part where it says she will probably not be punished for what she's done is not a joke, either, although it wasn't in the original article.

You know I'm going to follow this story if at all possible, so I'll update it periodically.

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Just The News

Bad Day: $1 million dollar Bugatti Veyron goes swimming

Oprah announces she's ending her show

I'm throwing a big-assed party. Oprah is ending her stupid show! OK, it'll probably just be a small party. Most of the people there won't even know it's a party for the end of Oprah. OK, it's really just a bar and I'd be there anyway, but I can pretend we're having a party to celebrate this.


New Mexico soccer girl speaks

Elizabeth Lambert, the "mean girl" soccer player seen all over the news beating up on BYU soccer girls, has given an interview in which she expresses regret for doing the same things that every other college soccer girl does. People watching the video on the news are shocked. Honestly, I don't see what the big deal is. Apparently many Americans still harbor the illusion that all girls are sugar and spice and everything nice. Thus a female athlete who elbows other girls in the tits and kicks them in the ankle before throwing them to the ground by their hair is simply inconceivable. These would be unathletic Americans who never played or even really watched girls soccer or any soccer, actually, and thus have no idea what goes on out on that playing field. We call those people "Senator" or "Mr. President." Seriously, the girl went a bit far, but isn't it the referee's job to call a penalty on her and put a stop to it? Where the hell was the ref? Why isn't the ref doing interviews filled with apologies for this whole thing?

CIA recruiting Arabs

The new Obama CIA is taking a page out of Tony Blair's playbook and saying "if you can't beat them, join them." So, rather than combat Muslim terrorism, our government has declared itself officially Muslim now and declared Jihad on Christian white male devils. Of course, they had already done this, along with the entire rest of the U.S. government, long, long ago, so it's a barely noticable change, really. This is why our "great leader" refers to the jihad mass murder at Ft. Hood as "a tragedy" rather than "terrorism."

Texas school bans "skinny pants"

A school in Texas has joined with many others across the nation in banning the latest fashion trend of "skinny pants." The reason is simple: too many teenaged boys have busted a nut trying to sit down in the damn things. Ruptured testicles mean absent students and that costs schools money. It's all about the money really.

America's economy is tanking with lots of government help

American lenders are looking at Obama's economic policies and saying "oh hail no, this shit ain't gonna take us anywhere but down. We're holding tight to every dollar we got 'cause this shit is about to get worse." Yes sir.

Democrats want to tax plastic surgery to help pay for Government Healthcare

The White House and Senate Democrats have turned to a proposal to tax breast implants, tummy tucks, wrinkle-smoothing injections and other predominantly female procedures as they search for ways to pay for their $3 trillion dollar health care government takeover. Earlier this week they tested the waters for health care rationing by trying to tell women that they shouldn't get tested for breast cancer until they're at least 50 years old and have detected a lump the size of a coconut. Most women weren't buying it, though, and instead took it as a warning that government-run healthcare might turn out to be as bad as conservatives have been warning all along.

Pentagon looking for Fort Hood management lapses

The Pentagon says it doesn't know why or how the Ft. Hood massacre occurred. It might have something to do with Political Correctness, which is what that U.S. general was promoting when he said he'd rather see more soldiers die than to lose our great weapon of 'diversity' in the military. It might have something to do with that, but our 'leaders' will never ever say so, because that would make too much fucking sense, and making sense is something modern American 'leaders' never do anymore. This is why they don't know how this Muslim terrorist massacre was able to happen right in the middle or our own military base in a state where all the private citizens carry guns and would have shot his ass much quicker if he had tried to do what he did at an average Texas shopping mall.

Slaying suspect said her hobby is 'killing people'

On YouTube, 15-year-old Alyssa Bustamante listed her hobbies as "killing people" and "cutting." It may have sounded like a really lame video, but authorities say she fulfilled her words when she killed 9-year-old Elizabeth Olten and got a shitload of hits on her video as a result. Alyssa, it turns out, is batshit crazy and tried to kill herself 2 years ago. No one took this as any sort of warning, so then she decided to kill herself AND a neighbor "just to see what it feels like." But first she made a hugely successful video announcing what she was going to do.

Senator Asshole
Republicans figure out Democrats trying to screw them over

Republican senators and governors assailed the Democrats' newly minted health care legislation Thursday as a collection of tax increases, Medicare cuts and heavy new burdens for deficit-ridden states. Democrat Harry Reid responded by saying, "Yeah, what are you gonna do about it? Bwa ha ha ha!"

Heidi Klum wow's Victoria's Secret crowd with her post-baby body

Heidi Klum and her post-baby body led the parade at the annual Victoria's Secret fashion show, which returned to New York with some fresh faces after four years on the road. There's nothing funny or sarcastic about this. I just wanted an excuse to post a picture of Heidi Klum.

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Police Officer Uses Taser On 10-Year-Old Groin-Kicking Girl

Something tells me I'm gonna have a bad day

OZARK, Ark. -- Ozark police said they were called to a home where a mother asked for help with her unruly child, but the 10-year-old's father said he's outraged at the force police used against his daughter.

"I would like to say Ozark police Tased this little girl right here. Ten years old and [they] shot electricity through her body, and I want to know how the heck in God's green earth can they get away with this," said the girl's father, Anthony Medlock.

Medlock said his daughter was at her mother's house when Ozark police Officer Dustin Bradshaw shocked her in the back with a Taser and arrested her.

"If you can't pick the kid up and take her to your car, handcuff her, then I don't think you need to be an officer," Medlock said.

Medlock said his daughter does show signs of having emotional issues, but she "doesn't deserve to be treated like a dog. She's not a tiger."

According to a police report, the officer was called to the home by the mother and witnessed the child kicking and screaming.

The officer's statement said the girl's mother, Kelly Hamlert, told him to use a Taser on her if he needed to.

The officer did shock the girl after she kicked him in the groin.

Look what they taught me at school

"He had no other choice. He had to get the child under control," said Ozark police Chief Jim Noggle.

Noggle said the officer shocked the girl for about a second.

Ozark police said it is their policy to use a Taser on someone who is a threat to others, no matter their age.

Noggle said simply restraining the child could be harmful.

"Well, if he tried to restrain her, he might hurt her by restraining her. If you grab somebody, you can slip an arm out of joint. They can slip from you and fall on the ground," Noggle said.

"I don't know what kind of policy it is. I don't think it's right," Medlock said.

Medlock said this is not the first time the girl's mother has called police to take her daughter to a juvenile facility. He said he will now try to get custody of his daughter.

"She just wants somebody to love her, and I do," he said.

40/29 News checked with several other police agencies about their taser policies. The Fort Smith Police Department said it will only uses a Taser on a person 14 years old or older if they are a threat to someone.

Fort Smith Police said it's usually the discretion of each police department to make their own policies on using a Taser.

Noggle said no action is being taken against the Ozark officer who used the Taser on the girl, and he said her case will go before the juvenile court system.

Now we're both riding the Pain Train

OK, so this happened not far from Memphis just the other day. What do you think?

Is he a bad cop for Tazing her? What was he supposed to do once his balls were busted and he could hardly stand up or defend himself anymore? What would you have done if you were the cop?

Are her parents shitheads for raising a daughter that behaves like a wild animal and then calling the cops on her?

Are her parents shitheads for teaching her to use sexual violence at such a young age? How old should a child be before they're taught to use sexual violence? How young is too young to be taught that kind of viciousness?

What if she had kicked him in the throat or gouged his eyes instead, both being techniques often taught alongside groin assault? Would that change your opinion?

Should she be congratulated for being a strong, independent girl and fighting back in the exact way almost all American girls are taught these days?

Is she just a punk bitch diva in need of a serious beating to adjust her attitude? Should he have Tazed her longer or more times to teach her a lesson?

Do you think the cop used amazing restraint considering he had a gun and could have just gone off on her and shot her after what she did to him? Or is he just a psycho who should be fired for Tazing a 10-year-old girl?

I'm not going to offer an opinion on this story. I just want your opinion.
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Flightless Bird

OK, so just to clarify things, sometimes when I blog, I blog from where I am at that moment. Sometimes I write based on how I feel at that exact moment. And sometimes because of that, the shit hits the fan.

No shit has really hit my fan as yet, but it will. And in the meantime, I want to make clear that, first of all, I'm aware that there are women in this world who don't hate men and aren't jumping up and down in their seats, laughing hysterically whenever a man is crying or dying. And second of all, thank God for those women and that many of you are among them. Sometimes it just seems so hopeless, and if not for many of you, I might just give up.

Yesterday I was confronted with several women in a row, all of whom, it turns out, find a good sexual torture or castration scene to be hysterical. And these aren't women I only know on the internet. These are women I know here, face-to-face, in my daily life, some of whom join me on occasion for alcohol and laughing at stupid shit. But we never laughed at this kind of shit. Not while I was present, anyway.

And then there are the men. There are men who live their life by the motto, "it's funny as long as it never happens to me." And then they go gufawing through life praying to God that the things they find so funny when it happens to other men never, ever happens to them. And then it does and they lose a nut. So from then on we harass them for being such assholes by calling them "nuts" a lot.

There's a lot of bad shit happening here in the United States of Narcissism. You're probably expecting me to begin listing them all out in annoying detail and discussing each and every one. Well, not right now, but I probably will eventually. We've had a problem here that has been building and building ever since the Baby Boomers took over the world and now they seem determined to ... OK, what the fuck is this coming on the TV?

Apparently Sissy Spacek has a series on Showtime now? Maybe it's a movie. Whatever it is, I don't feel like it. Suppposedly Rebecca Romijn is in it. I like her. Maybe I'll give it a chance just to see what Rebecca does ... ooh, cool Ford Galaxy! OK, I'm giving this thing a chance, just to see if there's more cool old cars and a naked Rebecca Romijn.

Rebecca Romijn

Ooh, Rebecca's playing a cop. I hope that uniform comes off sometime soon. I like her. She's cool.

About 9 months ago, maybe more, I borrowed some DVDs from a friend, 2 full seasons of a popular American TV series. I've had one of those DVDs sitting in my DVD player for the past 2 months without once even turning the thing on. I don't know what's wrong with me. I haven't watched a DVD in months. I have the TV on, but I only barely watch it. I have a stack of books and magazines, all filled with information that I very much want to read. I always seem to end up at the computer, researching things that are on my mind, generally not liking what I'm finding out, and not really sure how to do anything about any of it. And the night slips away before I know it.

There are so many things that I want to say. And yet, I don't really want to talk about any of them. I'm sick of them. I'm sick of trying to face them and fight them and figure out a way to do something about them. I can't make a difference and yet I can't quit trying. I guess I figure I'm not defeated until I stop fighting and resign myself to things. I just can't do that. In the words of radical Leftist Saul Alinksy, "reconciliation means that when one side gets the power and the other side gets reconciled to to it, then we have reconciliation."

One of my U.S. Senators for the state of Tennessee just betrayed us all once again. He's a professional politician, a worthless sack, a sticky, dribbling twat. Mister Senator, dude, you suck.

OK, I'm beginning to think this movie I'm watching belongs on the Hallmark channel. Nothing against the Hallmark channel, but there's no way in hell I'm ever going to see Rebecca Romijn in the buff there, and I really, really want to.

Dude, you don't ever pick up another man's guitar and just start playing it without asking. Shit!

Anyway, what was I talking about? Nothing, right? I was going on and on about nothing. I've been searching for the right words for months. I research and I write and I include link after link to videos and newspaper articles and anything I can find that helps to make my point, but it's all for nothing. Nobody's listening up there. I'm not a lawyer or a lobbyist or a well-connected billionaire so nothing I say ever reaches anything but deaf ears.

It's almost midnight here. I don't know what time it was when I started writing, but it was hours ago. I've pissed away half the night here in this chair, running in circles never really saying what I want to say. I've said it already. I guess I'm sick of saying it.

I remember when I was a kid, my best friend's grandmother would drive everyone crazy. She'd be calling his name to try to manipulate him into doing something for her and he wasn't having any part of it, so he'd just ignore her. She'd never quit, though. It must have looked crazy to anyone witnessing it without knowing them. She'd go "Tony? Tony? Tony? Tony? Tony? TONY? TONY? TONY? Answer me, Tony! Tony? Tony? Tony? TONY! Tony, answer me! Tony? Tony? Tony? Tony? ...." on and on and on and on.

Should I become like her? Should I just keep on until something changes, until someone listens, until I find myself wondering if anyone can even hear me anymore?

OK, so apparently the car is a '68 Torino. I swear it looks like a Galaxy. It's the same tail lights and bumpers and everything. Anyway, guess I was wrong.

I was in Washington, DC, once. It was 10 years ago. I went there for what was supposed to be a meeting of a so-called men's organization. Only it turned out to be something else entirely. It was the most politically correct group of male feminists I had seen since Phil Donahue had his own show. Oh, I don't mean the men in the crowd of over 1 million desperate, angry, betrayed men were male feminists. No, it was the men up on the stage, the men who were supposed to be our leaders, our saviors, our guides to freedom. And across the street, with all the cameras on her, was the president of the National Organization for Women, shrilly lying about how the men "over there" were the biggest threat to womens' rights that there had ever been. I know this because once I realized what a bunch of cunts the men up on the stage were, I got up and walked off, over across the street, to the feminists who were spewing a raw hatred of every male in the world, but especially the males across the street. I looked at this woman speaking, Patricia Ireland, screaming about how much of a threat the men were, and then I looked back at the men I had walked away from. I could still hear them speaking, their voices echoing through amplifiers and loud speakers, telling the crowd of men that they should do whatever the feminists said, that the feminists are always right and the men should follow and surrender their manhood and their rights. It was almost as if someone had paid them to say those things. Or threatened them with blackmail. Or maybe they had just cut off their balls and lobotomized them like Vice President Joe Biden had done to him? I don't know, but someone had gotten to them. There was nothing the least bit manly about anything they had to say.

So I got back on the train and left.

Now I'm looking at my elected 'leaders' and I'm listening to what they're saying. I'm searching them, looking at each one of them, hoping that just one of them will stand up and speak the damn truth. I'm looking for just one person with some integrity and balls. I know how much harder it is now than it was just 10 years ago before our 'leaders' decided to give $10 billion of American men's tax dollars to a pink mafia that has openly declared its intention of killing every single one of us. So now the pink mafia has its own courts and its own secret police, complete with a military-sized budget, its own branch of the Department of Justice, and so much power that every man, woman, and tranny hooker in Washington is scared shitless of them.

But I'm not going to talk about that. I'm going to turn off this computer, read a book to relax myself, and then I'm going to bed. If I'm lucky I won't dream anything at all. Or maybe I'll dream of a beach somewhere far, far away. But more than likely, like it or not, I'm going to dream about this stupid movie I just watched all the way through which never showed Rebecca Romijn in the nude, never convinced me it wasn't made for the Hallmark channel, and just basically wasted 2 hours of my time. Dammit.

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Misandric Monday - Hatred Without Limits

Today I came face-to-face with a horrible reality that I simply cannot comprehend. I had raised an issue over on PukeBook, a short statement commenting on the absurdity of our soldiers being crucified for frightening and generally humiliating "enemy combatants" in a college fraternity-like manner, while our own American police officers are literally sexually torturing American citizens with stun guns and Tasers, sometimes to the point of agonizing death, with total impunity.

Several female commenters responded with amusement, telling me about the latest American movie to depict the torture of a man with a Taser as humorous entertainment. They said it was "hilarious." I responded by simply pointing out that this is not just a joke. It is really happening, and often involves torture of the genitals. They didn't care. One woman said she wants to see men "Tasered in the balls until they blow."

After this, I met a female friend for drinks out at a favorite place of hers. I mentioned someone telling me there is a funny movie featuring men being Tasered by the police. She knew immediately what film I was talking about.

"That's "The Hangover" and it's hilarious. These guys have been arrested and it's take your kid to work day or something. So there's this fat kid and one of the guys had been really mean to him. So the cop is telling them about the Taser and offering to show them how it works. Then he says "You can try it if you want. You can Taser one of these men in the nuts." Then the fat kid says "I want to Taser HIM in the nuts" and points to the guy who was mean to him. Then he shoots him in the nuts with both of the things that stick to you and is hurting him really bad, shocking his nuts, you know. The guy falls down and is lying there hurt really, really bad. It was soooo funny."

As I sat there looking into the eyes of this woman, a woman I have been friends with for 5 years or more, I began to feel sick to my stomach. Hearing her describe a man being so horrifically tortured, and for so little reason, and to say that it was "hilarious" bothered me more than I can explain. Realizing that the women on PukeBook had been talking about this same scene, but never mentioned that the reason they liked it so much was because a man was tortured in his testicles, upset me even more. All the women thought it was funny. More than just funny, they thought it was "hilarious."

Apparently my face revealed how I felt about what she had just described to me, because she stopped smiling and said "I guess it was kind of mean. He was on the floor hurt really bad." I excused myself and went to the bathroom. I felt as if I was literally going to throw up. It wasn't simply the horrific nature of the described scene that upset me. It wasn't the fact that I have seen endless videos of this being done to real men in the real world. It was the utter glee of the women at seeing a man treated this way. In fact, it was the fact that all the women absolutely loved seeing a man abused so badly that upset me even more than the description of the scene itself. I had seen this same hatred from women at karate tournaments in years past whenever any male combatant fell to the floor screaming and holding his crushed testicles. The women in the stands would go berserk, screaming and cheering with an animal blood-lust in their eyes, openly expressing an inexplicable hatred of a man or boy they didn't know and clearly didn't see as a fellow human being.

Earlier this morning, while researching a future blog post, I ran across a long, detailed article about the Mary Winkler murder trial. On page 17 is an interview with the jury foreman. He said the jury was stacked unfairly based on sex from the beginning, with 10 women and only 2 men, and that 9 of the 10 women did not care about the facts of the case at all, or about any pretense of justice. They cared only that the murderous woman claimed he treated her badly sometimes, and evidence or no evidence, that was good enough for them. They were going to just let her go, free and clear, with a total acquittal. To hell with the man she shot in the back with a shotgun at close range, blowing a huge hole in his spine and several vital organs, before leaving him there on the floor choking in his own blood for 20 minutes before he finally died. To hell with the daughter who witnessed the cold-blooded murder of her father and testified that he did not abuse her mother and that she feared and despised her mother and did not wish to ever see her again. To hell with law and justice. To hell with equal protection under the law. To hell with any laws at all. Men are not human beings and do not deserve to live.

In men's movies, at least in years past, it was the villains of the film who would kidnap the hero's girlfriend or sister, rape her, and then let her go. He never tortured her or ripped her vagina apart. He never stabbed her ovaries with barbed spears before frying them with high voltage. The most evil of guy-movie villains would simply force himself upon her, making her have sex with him. Then he'd let her go home to tell her boyfriend or brother, so that he'd be upset and fight with the villain.

And it was certainly never the hero who did this to a woman.

The reason this scenario was used so frequently in guy-movies was because it always elicited the same response for the mostly-male audience. Men and boys were enraged at the idea of a woman being sexually abused or tortured. In fact, men are so enraged by it that to my knowledge no film has ever shown a woman being sexually abused or tortured to elicit a response of laughter from any of the males in the audience. It has always been a given that male audiences will not laugh at such a horrible thing. The male reaction to abuse of females has always been the same - rage.

And apparently, the female reaction to the most horrific of sexual tortures or even mutilations of males elicits the same response in almost all females - laughter, celebration, orgasmic jubilation.

The horror associated with the reality that American police officers, and increasingly American citizens, are shooting men in the testicles with sharpened bullets that spear the scrotum before frying the testicles with 50,000 volts for however long the torturer feels like holding the trigger down, is bad enough. But the horror associated with the reality that women are so consumed with seemingly limitless hatred of all males, no matter how young or old, complete stranger or their own husband, brother, father, or son, is heartbreaking to me.

Why? Why are women so filled with hatred of males that absolutely nothing is too cruel or evil when done to males, in the opinions of females, including castration and murder? And why is this pathological hatred considered acceptable by anyone? What is so wrong between men and women that men are willing to simply accept a hatred by women that would be violently condemned and even criminalized in anyone else? Has it always been this way or is this a relatively recent phenomenon?

But most importantly, just WHY????

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It's Thursday

It's Thursday. And thank God I'm here to tell you all what day it is all week long, right? I mean, what would you do without me? Stating the obvious: it's a service I offer.

I think my personal trainer is trying to see if he can grind my shoulders down until there's nothing left. I mean, OK, I try to gut it out when he asks me how my shoulders are doing. I admit that maybe one of them is hurting, but hell, it's always hurting, so I just say 'to hell with it' and keep working out. Honestly, if I stopped working out when something was fucked up on my body, I would never have been able to run track or play soccer or do pretty much anything that I like. I even have injuries that relate to having sex. I shit you not. But do you think I'm going to let that stop me from having more sex? Oh hell no!

Anyway, lately my shoulder is just screaming. It says to me, "you better stop with the gazillion reps and find something else to work on or I'm going to send you back to your best friend, Mr Orthopedic Surgeon, for a new surgery." Yep, my shoulder can't remember my surgeon's name, so he just calls him "Mr. Orthopedic Surgeon." My knee, on the other hand, remembers his name perfectly. But that's another story, and it isn't particularly entertaining or anything so let's skip it.

I guess tomorrow when I'm at the gym I may have to ask my trainer to focus on legs. It's really a problem now that I have this bruise inside the ball of my foot, because it prevents me from going running. Meanwhile, the heavy leg presses and sprinting up the stairs seems to be bothering my knee. No, not the one that Mr. Orthopedic Surgeon knows so intimately. The other one. Yeah, I've had a LOT of injuries over the span of my lifetime, so this comes as no surprise to me.

There have been times when I become convinced that God made me out of plastic parts while everyone else was made of higher quality metal parts, sort of like the difference between a John Deere or Cub Cadet lawn tractor you buy at Home Depot versus one you buy from an actual authorized dealer.

So anyway, there is a very real shortage of hot girls at my gym and I think it's causing me to get hurt as a result. My body is just not feeling inspired. My brain is fully aware of how badly I need to work out, but my body is looking around and saying "what the hell, dude, there is nothing here worth going through this much pain over."

There was a study recently in which it was discovered that men actually benefit health-wise from being around hot girls. It is particularly relevant in the gym, because when men are around really hot girls and checking them out, it causes the men to produce more testosterone. Testosterone is what makes men healthy and happy. The lack of it makes us irritable and mean.

Women produce testosterone, too, just at lower levels than men do. And men's brains convert testosterone to estrogen as needed for things like verbalization and such. I realize it's considered politically incorrect to say that high levels of estrogen give women an advantage at things like writing and speaking skills, while testosterone seems to give men an edge in things like math and science and cage fighting, but listen here, God doesn't give a flying fart whether his designs are politically correct or not. He built us the way we are for a reason and our refusal to use what he's given us to the fullest instead of bitching and arguing that it's sexist to point out that men and women are different is just pure stupidity and sin.

Sin, by the way, causes death, which brings us back to testosterone and hot girls at the gym and men feeling very much alive. See, if you cut off a guy's balls and don't give him some sort of testosterone supplements, you've basically killed him. He has other, much smaller sources of testosterone, but the main source being gone is a huge problem affecting both his body and his brain. As I said, men's brains convert testosterone into estrogen as needed for speech and communication and such. Some scientists theorize that autism is simply a case of extreme maleness because much of the advantages women have are so often missing in autistic children, while the masculine traits are often intact. I don't know if there is any truth to this. It's just something I read.

Either way, when men are in the gym working out and checking out the hot babes who are also in the gym with them, all sweaty and glistening and striking oddly pornographic poses, it causes men's bodies to produce a lot more testosterone.

Did you know that every time a guy gets a boner his body is jacking up the testosterone in his bloodstream at the same time? Boners are actually good for us, like vitamins, which should be taken orally every day.

So anyway, men who work out need to find every way possible to increase their testosterone levels. It's what makes muscles grow and heal rapidly. It's why athletes who want to gain an edge, male and female alike, will inject anabolic steroids, essentially pure testosterone, into their veins while looking at naked photos of Victoria's Secret supermodel Marisa Miller. It makes you strong.

Sure, you can get too much of a good thing. You can overdose on estrogen, too. Just look at Joe Biden to see what too much estrogen does to a person. He's a giant cuntbag. Look at Rosie O'Donnell, she's batshit crazy. Look at feminism in general. It's estrogen poisoning turned into a massive religion of death and destruction and shrill screaming about a mythical "war on women" by the very same crazy people who are actively engaging in a war on men. Similarly, too much testosterone makes people ugly. It can produce a level of crazy virtually identical to feminism, except that instead of inspiring men to kill babies and their spouses and try to castrate every men alive, it inspires them to try to fight everyone they meet until someone shoots them or puts them into prison or in some sort of steel octagon.

But overall, testosterone is a good thing. It makes both men and women feel good. It makes us feel alive. And it makes us horny and happy.

That's probably why the U.S. Government has outlawed virtually anything and everything that increases testosterone in the body, because it makes men happy.

Anyway, the point I was trying to make is that I think I'm going to look into switching gyms. There's a gym much closer to my work that I need to check out. It's a local university gym. It's huge. I was in their athletic program on a scholarship when I went to school there and supposedly I have a lifetime free membership as a result. Of course, last time I asked about that no one seemed to know what I was talking about, so that may mean very little. The bottom line, though, is that the gym is filled with beautiful college girls who, even while ignoring me, will cause my body to produce higher levels of testosterone and thus heal faster. I really need to heal faster. Of course, that'll mean finding a new trainer, but in the long run I think it might be a good move. Maybe I'll find a new trainer who is a hot girl, too, and just working out with her will make me feel better and heal faster? Hey, you never know.

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