Whenever I need some sex advice, I try my best to avoid getting it from really old religious guys who are afraid to go to their home country. I’ve always felt that no good could come of it. It was an instinct, and I learned long ago to trust my instincts.

 

As it happens, my instincts were dead on, yet again as was evidenced yesteday when somebody asked the Dali Lama about fucking. I can’t imagine why somebody would do such a thing, but there you have it.

 

And the results were predictable.

 

The Dalai Lama, the exiled Tibetan spiritual and temporal leader, on Friday said sex spelt fleeting satisfaction and trouble later, while chastity offered a better life and “more freedom.”

“Sexual pressure, sexual desire, actually I think is short period satisfaction and often, that leads to more complication,” the Dalai Lama told reporters in a Lagos hotel, speaking in English without a translator.

 

He said conjugal life caused “too much ups and downs.

 

“Naturally as a human being … some kind of desire for sex comes, but then you use human intelligence to make comprehension that those couples always full of trouble. And in some cases there is suicide, murder cases,” the Dalai Lama said.

You know, I was raised to believe that if an erotic coupling led to an actual fatality, somebody was doing something right. I can’t tell you how often a woman has looked at me during an encounter and said “skippy, you’re killing me. If I have another orgasm, I’m going to die. ” But they never do. Everybody who entered the encounter, exits it - with nary a toe tag or body bag in sight.

 

This is because I’m a lousy lay. But I really didn’t need to hear it from the Dali fucking Lama. I now officially agree with the stalinist Chinese. That guy’s a menace.

 

Besides, not having a fuck buddy can be dangerous, too. Hasn’t anyone told the the Dali Lama about auto-erotic asphixation? Shit, I can barely make it through the day without nearly strangling myself with a belt as I jerk off at least twice. But that’s just me. I’m a deeply sexy man.

 

He said the “consolation” in celibacy is that although “we miss something, but at the same time, compare whole life, it’s better, more independence, more freedom.”

 

Considered a Buddhist Master exempt from the religion’s wheel of death and reincarnation, the Dalai Lama waxed eloquent on the Buddhist credo of non-attachment.

 

“Too much attachment towards your children, towards your partner,” was “one of the obstacle or hindrance of peace of mind,” he said.

 

Freedom from what, precisely? Busting a nut so hard you can actually see a woman’s eyes bug out a little. I’m actually kind of partial to that. But I do agree about all of that other stuff being a hinderance. Particularly children. They’re a big pain in the ass when you’re trying to get laid.

 

But next week, his Buddhistness will have someone new to share his sexual wisdom with.

 

He leaves Friday night for the Czech Republic and then on to Brussels to address the European Parliament before heading to Poland, where he is due to meet with French President Nicolas Sarkozy.

 

I think Sarkozy is going to love hearing this. After all, if there’s anyone out there with reason to be distracted by high quality poontang (link NSFW), it’s him.

 

Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Cock in My Pocket   By: Iggy & the Stooges  From: Metallic K.O

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Okay, maybe I don’t rule, at least not yet. But I’m competetive.

 

Much to my surprise, I’ve made it to round two in the voting for Best Humour Blog at ye olde Canadian Blog Awards. I’m in the final five, which is a lot further than I expected to get. Seriously, I suck pretty bad most of the time.

 

Voting continues through next Saturday, December 7, when the Funniest Blog in the Motherfucking Dominion is announced. I’d deeply appreciate your continued support. It makes me feel pretty.

 

Thanks to everyone who has already voted. I feel more and more like Dick Daley every day. i’m just like the American Pharaoh, except I’m Canadian. And powerless.

 

If i win, I’ll wear my crown with dignity and humility, and I promise not have too many of my enemies killed.

 

Okay, I can’t really promise that. Being a lifelong loser, I’m not sure how magnanimous I would be in victory. I might just be an insufferable prick. But it’ll be fun finding out, won’t it? If I do win (which I won’t), I expect to be greeted everywhere I go with gumdrops and blowjobs. What else would having Canada’s Best Humour Blog be good for, if not that?

 

 What is best in life? To crush your enemies. To see them driven before you. And to hear the lamentations of their women…

 

Wiser words were never spoken. If I am named Canada’s funniest son of a bitch, I expect to be uttering them a lot. Personally, I think the megalomania is going to make me even more of a cutey-pie.

 

In any event, I need to get really drunk and pass out in a pool of my own body fluids. Which fluids, you ask? That’s for me to know and you to find out. If nothing else, I know how to keep my readers coming back for more.

 

Lohan boobie gif lovingly stolen from Raymi the Minx, who was also nominated for Best Humour Blog and  is unspeakably hawt. No matter what anyone says, I’ll always maintain that falling in love 37 times isn’t shallow. In fact, it makes me a lot like Jesus.

 

Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Race for the Price  By: The Flaming Lips  From: The Soft Bulletin

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Hunter S. Thompson often said that you never really know someone until they’re scared. As much as I admire and revere the late doctor, I’m inclined to disagree.  I would suggest that you never really know someone until you see them inside of a Wal Mart somewhere in the United States at 5 AM on the day after Thanksgiving.

 

That day is commonly known as “Black Friday”, which is accurate insofar as it accurately describes what happens to the human heart. A parsihoner will see his pastor head-butt a child to get his hands on deeply discounted Hot Wheels dildo. And few things are as beautiful as that. It makes me feel alive just to see it, if only from a distance.

 

Like most people, I look forward to Black Friday. Not as a consumer, since I’m a godless Canadian, our Thanksgiving is six weeks earlier than it is for our southern neighbors. I love it for the stories that inevitably come to us from that special day. Having given thanks to their respective Lords, the faithful resolve to bring about terrible violence upon each other in the name of shopping.

 

We’re used to seeing scenes like this across the country — people running, pushing, trying to get their hands on the great bargains. But on Friday – better known as “Black Friday” to millions upon millions of holiday shoppers across the country, a scene like this turned deadly as a mob stampeded over a security guard at a Long Island Wal-Mart.

 

The heavy glass and steel sliding doors were literally knocked off their hinges in the shopper-stampede-to-be-first. Then the wave of humaity caved in on defenseless Wal-Mart workers as they opened early — 5 a.m. — for the annual bargain hunting ritual that kicks off the morning after Thanksgiving.

 

“The crowd pushed so forcefully that they crashed the doors down and one of the workers from Wal-Mart was pushed to the floor as the crowd entered the store, many of them running,” said Det. Lt. Michael Fleming of the Nassau County Police Department.

 

Cell phone video obtained by CBS 2 HD shows Jdimytai Damour, a 34-year-old part-time employee hired as a holiday temp. He was crushed in the onslaught and pronounced dead an hour later. As responding Nassau police and paramedics tried to save him, they were also jostled and pushed to the ground.

 

“The man got trampled, stomped on — everybody banged through the doors,” witness Terrence Howard said.

 

As sad as it is to say, the Jdimytai Damour is probably better off dead. No one ever fully recovers from a hearty stomping by hundreds of deranged folks, and Wal-Mart isn’t exactly famous for providing health benefits. Do you think the vengeful shopaholics would chip in to put him back together again? Fuck, they wouln’t even stop to pick his battered body off of the floor. And Wal-Mart probably had another confused, minimum wage sacrifical lamb waiting in the lunch room, waiting for the dark hour when the store closed, and it was time to close the doors that killed his comrade.

 

Witness Kimberly Cribbs said all those people who got in went right on shopping after the worker was run over.

 

“Oh yes, they’re savages,” Cribbs said.

 

As 2,000 customers surged ahead, several hundred began cutting the line creating mass chaos. Many bargain-hunters said they watched in horror.

 

“Pushing in, pounding through the doors to get TVs and electronics,” Sean Newman said.

 

“I will never do this again as long as I live. I wish I was never here this morning,” another woman added.

 

Three other shoppers and a 28-year-old pregnant woman who suffered minor injuries were also taken to hospitals for observation.

 

“I am happy to report that she did not miscarry and that baby will be okay,” Det. Lt. Fleming said.

 

This might make make me a horrible human being, but there’s something that really warms my heart about the ability of people to actually kill one another for cheaply made Chinese shit that happens to be on sale. It confirms everything I believe about the human spirit.

 

An accident happens once. This kind of thing happens every single year. You can almost set your watch to it.

 

I know a little bit about secruring large crowds of stupid people in giant spaces. And it can’t be done in a way that can be described as “customer-friendly”, particularly when they’re that wound up on coffee and ignorance at five in the fucking morning. You need a lot of guys with bad attitudes and electric cattle prods to do that. Some fucking people need to know that if they want to stomp someone else, they’re going to get stomped worse. But the corporate suits think that’ll hurt “customer relations” more than a few deaths will.

 

So people - often their own employees and contractors - get hurt or killed.

 

From my adventures in loss prevention, I know a fair bit about how their loss prevention shop works, and I’m frankly amazed that the entire corporation hasn’t been sued out of existence yet. I’ve heard enough stories to know that their personnel violates the Criminal Code of Canada several dozen times a day. And if those retards can’t even effect a righteous arrest properly, I highly doubt that they train their uniform rent-a-cops to deal with crowds energized by agitation, exhaustion, greed and stupidity.

 

You would think that people would learn something by the sad story of Jdimytai Damour, but I guarantee you they won’t. The corporations sure don’t give a shit. Even if a family like Jdimytai’s had the resources to sue, Wal-Mart still would come out ahead in profits from their psychopathic sale after any wrongful death judgement. Even if a few customers get karked here and there, they see it as the cost of doing business.

 

If you expect the retailers to protect you, you’re an idiot. It isn’t cost-effective for them to do so. If you expect some dime an hour security guard to save you from a stampede, you deserve to get crushed to death. If he doesn’t get hurt first - which he almost certainly will - he has a family that he’d like to spend the holidays with with, too.

 

So enjoy all of your Black Friday shitheadery next year. Just don’t rely on anybody to help you when fall down and go boom. Your fellow shoppers are just as animalistic as you are, the single immigrant security guard will have already been crippled, and the retailer has already budgeted the cost of lawsuit.

 

You’ll be in the jungle, baby. And I think we all know what comes next.

 

 

Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Black Friday   By: Steely Dan  From: Katy Lied

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Bonus Round: Welcome to the Jungle   By: Guns N’ Roses  From: Live Era  (1987-1993)

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Before I begin, I just want to say that if I have to vote again in the near future, I’m joining al Qaeda. All of this fucking democracy is getting exhausting, and if keeps up, the terrorists should  win.

 

Even though Canada had its fourth federal election in eight years just six weeks ago, and even though the 40th Parliament has been in session for less than two weeks, it appears that Stephen Harper’s second Conservative minority is getting ready to fall. Amazingly, it might fall over the first thing Harper’s done that I can give my full-throated support.

 

Way back in 2002, then-prime minister Jean Chretien was preparing to be vanquished by his hated rival in the Liberal Party, Paul Martin, Jr. But Chretien still had a parliamentary majority and almost unlimited power, which he used to hammerfuck Martin directly into hell. Chretien determined that if he couldn’t be prime minister, no other Liberal could be, and went about ensuring it.

 

Chretien’s weapon of choice was Bill C-24, which prohibited political contributions from corporations and labour unions. Those contributions were replaced by a public subsidy of $1.75 per vote received in the previous election.

 

The problem with C-24 from Martin’s perspective? Well, the Liberals flourished for generations from contributions from Canada’s banking establishment and sundry Bay Street vermin. They far outpaced everybody in terms of political money for years this way. Without that revenue stream, the Liberals would be forever fucked, particularly since the Conservatives had built a truly amazing network of grass-roots contributors during their years in exile.

 
You think there might be a reason that Chretien introduced C-24 only after it was clear that he’d soon lose the leadership of the Liberal Party? I do, and so does Paul Martin. Chretien played Samson, and finacially kneecaped the very party that provided a corrupt monster like him a healthy career for thirty years. As a consequence of C-24, six years and three elections later, the party keeps falling deeper and deeper in debt. Which is fine with me. I love watching those cocksuckers wearing a “Will pander for food” around their necks.

 

On Thursday the Conservative government released an economic statement that would end what has become a $30 million public subsidy to the parties. The Liberals, New Democratic Party, and Bloc Quebecois were immediately outraged, and started screaming about an “assault on democracy.” This is because the Grits, Dippers and Traitors are all lying and incredibly stupid.

 

To my mind, campaign finance regulation is immoral and unconstitutional, but excusable … so long as public money and/or tax deductibility of political contributions is involved. Unlike most of my asshole countrymen, I’m of the immovable opinion that money does indeed equate speech, particularly in politics, and the fucking government has no business restricting that.

 

Virtually all Canadians and liberals everywhere will tell you that campaign finance restrictions are necessary to prevent things like bribery and influence peddling. This is because Canadians and liberals everywhere are weapons grade stupid, and seemingly unaware that bribery and influence peddling are already against the law.  Everyone who isn’t me seems to let the idea that if someone is willing to break one law, they might break three or four, elude them. This is why I have no faith in humanity or democracy.

 

But so long as political contributions are tax-deductable, the government can fuck around with them however they want. What certain people are too dumb to recognize is that when you accept a subsidy (which is all tax deductions and exemptions really are), you surrender certain rights to the government. That’s why charities and churches should shut the fuck up already. They want the rights of a democracy without the responsibility of paying taxes. For that reason, they should all be drowned in the deepest lake we can find.

 

Retarded people everywhere argue that “getting the money out of politics” will create a more transparent and honest government, which it demonstrably hasn’t. But getting the government  out of politics just might. What most people don’t understand is that the parties aren’t charities or, except for the truly twisted, religious organizations. They are for-profit private organizations, which produce absolutely nothing of any worth for anyone who isn’t a fucking ghoul. Making political contributions tax-deductible hasn’t promoted democracy as much as it has promoted an almost malignant level of stupidity, and allowed deviant hucksters and self-righteous prostitution profiteers like Warren Kinsella to suckle at the public teat for far too long. In Kinsella’s case, he was actually making all of that groovy hooker money while he was a ministerial aide. But he did it anonymously. Beat that.

 

At this point, I should note that I don’t think that fuckeads like Kinsella, George Stephanopolous, Karl Rove, or David Axelrod should be on the public payroll.  They’re all political  curs, not policy ones. If their services are needed so fucking badly by their clients, they should be paid for out of pocket, or by the party. If an executive needs his campaign hacks to govern, that executive should probably be assassinated. If campaign consultants need to be in government so badly, they should be on the fucking ballot. Maybe the only thing I respect about James Carville is that he never took a government salary.

 

I don’t care if you want to support the Kidfucker Party of Saskatchewan - partly because kidfuckers are only slightly worse than the Conservatives, Liberals, NDP and BQ - but I do resent having to subsidize your financial support of them through my taxes. Worse, the system fucks over independents. In October’s federal election, I voted for an independent who belongs to no party, and probably won’t see a dime of his $1.75 for each of the 230 some odd votes he received in my riding.

 

My only problem with what Harper and his demonic finance minister announced on Thursday is that it didn’t go far enough.

 
Obviously, the three opposition parties - who are wrong about everything else - disagree. They want their money for nothing, and they’ll be goddamned if they let Stephen Harper fuck with that. There’s talk that they’ll topple the government at the earliest opportunity and form a coalition government.

 

Who would lead such a coalition, you ask? Why Stephane Dion would. That he was repudiated in the popular vote in a way that no Liberal in Canadian history has been just six weeks ago matters not at all. Neither does the fact that he won’t even even be the Liberal leader in six months, having announced his intention to resign after his humiliating defeat and forcible ejection by his own cowardly caucus.

 

But there’s a catch.

 

The Tories have 143 MPs, versus the Liberals and NDP’s combined 114.

 

That means any coalition would require the support of the Bloc Quebecois’ 49 MPs. As Quebec seperatists, the Bloc are seen as traitors to sensible people everywhere and are politically toxic in English Canada. And that poses a problem. When a minority government falls, whether an opposition coalition takes power or an election is called is the decision of the Governor General, in this case, the super hot black chick, Michaelle Jean. Deciding that a Liberal/NDP coalition that is supported by the BQ is anything other than enabling treason would be a great exercise in intellectual gymnastics.

 

Has it been done before? Sure.

 

That’s what happened in 1926 during the so-called King-Byng Affair. That’s when Prime Minister William Lyon Mackenzie King went to the Governor General Lord Byng of Vimy, asking for an election call, but was turned down. Instead, Byng asked Conservative Arthur Meighen to end a parliamentary stalemate.

 

(…)

 

Cooper said even if that were to happen, the new government would, like Meighen, have an extremely short tenure. King was voted back into office in the next election.

 

Let’s say that this scenario plays out, which is extremely unlikely. If such a coalition were formed, the Bloc would be the balance of power. And, as the Bloc is famous for doing, they would push too far, too fast, leading to an almost immediate defeat of the “government”, forcing an election. And it would almost certainly happen before May’s Liberal leadership convention.

 

In that case, Prime Minister Dion - already having been massively repudiated by voters - would have to go on the hustings and explain in his hilarious english that he wasn’t enabling treason just so the Liberal Party could continue to suck the taxpayer’s fucking blood to the tune of $1.75 a neck. And given the low number of necks bitten by Dion this past October, the Tories would have a huge financial advantage and the most fantastic issue set in the history of politics.

 

I have no doubt whatsoever that Harper was hoping to provoke an election with his economic statement. Having a minority government as we enter a Depression is a very, very bad place to be. He’d very much like to have the majority we denied him six weeks ago. But he wasn’t counting on the possibility of an opposition coalition.

 

And, like a pussy, he blinked. The problem is that’s too late. That train has left the fucking station. If Dion or Layton back down now, they’ll look even more ridiculous than they have over the last two years. It doesn’t matter if Harper’s current government goes down this Monday or next, it’s going down. Even if he cries like a girl and pulls the C-24 section out of the economic statement, he’ll have allowed the opposition to think that they’ve got something other than cotton candy between their legs.

 

And thanks to him, they do. The longer this drags out, the more the next election becomes about how the economy is going to choke us all in our fucking cribs. And that ain’t an election Harper should want to fight as prime minister.

 

Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day:  Everything’s Fucked  By: Dirty Three  From:  Dirty Three

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President-elect Obama sure likes inventing symbols that feed his sense of self-importance. During the campaign, he created his own presidential seal, which is kind of a felony, and now he has a big sign on his podium that says “Office of the President-Elect.” I’m just shocked that he didn’t have his people include four exclamation points and a “OMGWTF”  in the sign to inspire that important extra bit of awe.

 

Small problem. There isn’t an actual “Office of the President-Elect.” Not in the Constitution, nor in the federal law that governs transitions. The 44th president of the United States is just randomly making shit up, and giving it some kind of presidential gloss. Didn’t Americans just have eight years of that?

 

Since resigning his Senate seat nearly two weeks ago, Mr. Obama isn’t actually a part of the American government in any way, shape or form. But this hasn’t stopped him from unvieling a new website, change.gov. Unless Congress created a Department of Change when I wasn’t looking, this might also be illegal. But what the hell? If it makes Barack feel good, do it!

 

 

Most disturbing of all is the fact that the president-elect has started giving his own fireside chats.

 

 

The “fireside chat” was an invention of President Franklin Roosevelt. There are a couple of small differences between FDR and Obama’s chats. First, Roosevelt waited until he was actually inaugerated before giving them. Second, the 32nd president gave only thirty of them over the course of 11 years, whereas the 44th president has given three since the election - a full 10% of FDR’s total. He’s also held three press conferences in three days. During his four month transition to power, Franklin Roosevelt gave none.  Third, Obama doesn’t appear to be anywhere near a fire.

 

What is the single most spectacular thing about Obama’s chats is the way they take a really long time to say nothing at all.  The most current one took a full four minutes to;

 

1. Mention Abraham Lincoln yet again.
2. Tell us we’re all going to die.
3. Wish us a Happy Thanksgiving.

 

Those things look professionally shot and edited. Between that and the new signs announcing the holder of an office that dosen’t exist, I’m starting to see how the General Services Administration has to budget so much goddamn money for presidential transitions. I just hope that there are no unexpected complications in the creation of the president-elect’s cape. And that the crown fits by January 20th. The Army Corps of Engineers have reportedly had trouble navigating the president-elect’s ears.

 

But that shouldn’t be taken to mean that all is well in Obamaworld, as earth will shortly be renamed. Some commentators have noticed that the president-elect has been studiously been rebuilding the Clinton administration over the last three weeks, which must bring great joy to the hearts of Charlie Trie, Johnny Cheung, Webster Hubbell, the ghosts of Vince Foster and Jim McDougal, Marc Rich, and, most of all, Monica Lewinsky.

 

Obama’s base supporters must be thrilled. After all, Hillary Clinton could have pulled that off without turning the Democratic primaries into such a mess. Goofy sloganeering aside, this doesn’t represent a great deal of change, and really only brings hope to the likes of Ken Starr.

 

Nor has this escaped the notice of Obama’s adoring masses in the press.

 

President-elect Barack Obama essentially said Wednesday that he is the change, striving to assure Americans that he’ll shake up Washington despite filling his administration with old hands from the Clinton administration and the capital’s corridors of power.

 

“Understand where the vision for change comes from, first and foremost,” Obama said. “It comes from me. That’s my job, is to provide a vision in terms of where we are going, and to make sure, then, that my team is implementing.”

 

All hope and change flow throw him, as all rivers of hopeychange must. That’s just the natural order of things. If you doubt that, just wait until January 20th, when the new president walks upon the waters of Hope and Change. Who are you to argue with a sign, a website, and Paul Volker, anyway? Rahm Emmanuel is going to cut your nuts off if you keep this shit up, you know?

 

Obama is the Hope.

 

Obama is the Change.

 

Obama is the Walrus.

 

Coo coo, kachoo.

 

Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: I Am the Walrus  By: The Beatles  From: Magical Mystery Tour

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You know why I hate movies? There are so few where everybody dies at the end. Every romantic comedy should finish with a giant fucking meteor hitting the cast right on their heads and killing them all.  That would be my  happy ending. But I never get that, so Hollywood can wash my ballsack.

 

Unlike in Hollywood’s twisted version of it, there are very few clear cut “good guys versus bad guys” scenarios in life. Most of the time, life is about navigating between camps of vermin who are competing for the right to rape your eyesockets first. Which is to say that life is a lot like the battle between Axl Rose and Dr. Pepper. This is a story where everyone involved deserves to be hit in the face with a shovel.

 

It all started innocently enough. In an effort to make fun of Tommy Stinson’s new singer, Dr. Pepper declared that they would give everyone in America a free can of their product if the long-awaited Replacements album, Chinese Democracy, was released in 2008. The guy who replaced Paul Westerberg seemed to like the idea. Okay, he was more good humored about it than anything. More specifically, he didn’t hit anybody.

 

In the interest of full disclosure, I should say that I tried Dr. Pepper once. In 1978. It made me feel as though I was going to shit my pancreas out. Offering that shit as a reward should have been as attractive as my offering to cross the country on foot and blast every living American I could find in the crotch with a firehose.

 

Things went downhill from there. Chinese Democracy did come out. And it turns out that everybody in America loves their carbonated urine. Dr. Pepper’s website melted down first thing on Sunday morning, and America went without the promised coupons for their free cans of caffinated tumor. So the lawyers naturally got involved.

 

Guns N’ Roses are threatening Dr. Pepper with legal action over what the band calls “a complete fiasco” of a publicity stunt. Dr. Pepper promised every person in America a free can of soda if Guns N’ Roses released Chinese Democracy this year; on November 23rd, the day Democracy was released, fans were told they could get a coupon for a free can at its website. According Axl Rose’s lawyer Alan S. Gutman, things went terribly wrong: Yesterday he sent a letter to Dr. Pepper CEO Larry Young saying that the soda company’s website crashed and that “the redemption scheme your company clumsily implemented for this offer was an unmitigated disaster which defrauded consumers and, in the eyes of vocal fans, ‘ruined’ the day of Chinese Democracy’s release”.

 

I was going to try to leave my critic hat off for awhile until I got better acquainted with the record, but if anything seems to have ruined the day of Chinese Democracy’ s release, it was the release of Chinese Democracy.

 

For a guy who seems to hate Slash so much, Axl seems to have gotten 853 people in a room, hired the 12 who played the most like him, and asked if they’d like a top hat. In at least one case, a KFC bucket sufficed. Axl has surrounded himself with everything money could buy except for an editor and taste.

 

I don’t want to be too harsh with the record because it could well grow on me, and it is better than 90% of what passes for music these days, which admittedly isn’t saying much. If you haven’t heard Chinese Democracy yet, you can read all about it here. But dude, five ballads in a row?

 

The band is seeking a public apology via ads in newspapers, plus more time for people to claim their free soda and monetary damages. In the words of the letter: “Now it’s time to clean up the mess.” The letter continues, “As we all now know, Dr. Pepper created an expansive and highly-publicized advertising campaign based solely on the exploitation of my cleints’ legendary reputation. In and of itself this campaign brazenly violated our clients’ rights in numerous respects. Unfortunately, Dr. Pepper has now magnified the damage this campaign has caused through its appalling failure to make good on a promise it made to the American public.”

 

Actually, there was nothing “expansive” or “highly-publicized” about the Dr. Pepper stunt. They put out a dopey press release and the the goddamned liberal media went wild with it. Besides, it was a near certainty that nothing would come of it, since Tommy Stinson’s new singer has been promising Chinese Democracy’s immediate release since at least 1999. And who in the fuck  wants a Dr. Pepper, free or otherwise? I would have thought the response would have been about what you would have expected if you offered to slaughter each fan’s children in front of them with a CD proof of purchase.

 

Other highlights from the letter: “Our clients are outrated at your treatment of their fans and the American public in general. After it became clear that Chinese Democracy would be released in 2008, Dr. Pepper executive Tony Jacobs proudly proclaimed that Dr. Pepper would make good on its promise to give a free soda to everyone in America. It turned out that Dr. Pepper did not define ‘everyone in America’ the same way as ‘everyone in America’ defined ‘everyone in America.’” It concludes, “Had you wished to engage in a commercial tie-in with our clients, you should have negotiated a legitimate arrangement instead of hijacking their rights without payment. Rest assured, this misappropriation will not be free.”

 

Easier said than done, Alan. Since Tommy Stinson’s new singer singer issued his own press release saying that he was “ surprised and very happy to have the support of Dr Pepper”, he would have a very hard time arguing that his rights were “hijacked”, or that any “misappropriation” took place. Let’s say that Larry Flynt promised every American adult a free copy of his fine film, Who’s Nailin’ Paylin if John McCain won the presidency. He wouldn’t need the express written permission of McCain-Palin ‘08, the Republican National Committee, or even Major League Baseball to do it. Given my understanding of the relevant law, Alan S. Gutman is a shyster of almost cosmic proportions.

 

There’s also the question of what damages would be receieved if Gutman actually had a case. To figure that out, you’d need to figure out what the The Replacements  Guns N’ Roses name is worth at this point. Since 1993, GN’R has scrapped one tour, and played to half-empty rooms when Axl bothered showing up at all for a second. If the music industry weren’t in a state of complete collapse, I have no doubt that Guns N’ Roses would have been dropped on their asses years ago, and Axl’s personal reputation at this point is of a slightly weirder Michael Jackson, who isn’t as good with kids.

 

On the other hand, I haven’t seen anyone actually drink a Dr. Pepper in thirty fucking years. If anyone had the balls to ask me if I wanted to be a pepper too, I’d very probably rip their eyes out and set them on fire.

 

Just like in the best movies, there’s absolutely no one to root for in this story. You just hope that everyone dies in new and creative ways.

 

Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day:  Riad N’ the Bedouins   By: Guns N’ Roses  From:  Chinese Democracy

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You what North America is? A collection of angry white folks who hate Mexicans and the French, and we’re only right about the French. But we like to look at places like Iraq in what most Americans now refer to as “the good old days,” and think that we’re so superior with our rule of law. We’re so chi-chi, aren’t we?

 

The problem is that Arizona apparently never got the memo.

 

You see, in some shithole called St. Johns, an 8 year old boy has been accused of a double murder. And he’s been charged. Arraigned even. In handcuffs. An 8 year old boy. You never know, he might break free of the deputies and flee to a fucking sandbox in Mexico, never to be seen again. Or he might give the Sherrif’s deputies cooties. And none of us needs to see a slow-speed Hot Wheels chase, now do we?

 

An 8-year-old boy charged in the shooting deaths of his father and another man appeared in handcuffs at a court hearing, drawing tears from some in the audience. The judge slapped a gag order on the shocking case.

 

While friends and neighbors disputed a suggestion that the boy had been abused, the judge on Monday proclaimed the gag order necessary to prevent “loose-cannon pronouncements.”

 

The boy - who has been charged as a juvenile with two counts of murder - sat restlessly next to his mother, fidgeting, tapping his fingers on the table, and swiveling and rocking in his chair. His mother declined to comment as she left the courthouse.

 

Much of the hearing focused on court-ordered mental health and competency evaluations of the boy. Judge Michael Roca gave defense attorneys until Friday to either find an expert to evaluate the boy’s competency or to agree to one suggested by the prosecutors.

 

A few points.

1. Judge  Michael Roca is obviously one of the dumber motherfuckers on the bench anywhere. If there has ever been case that calls for “loose-cannon pronouncements”,  it’s this one. 
2. How does an eight year old qualify as a “juvenile?” As I understand the law virtually everywhere that isn’t Iran, a juvenile is over 12. Christ, in Canada, you can’t even charge  someone under 12 criminally.
3. Precisely how does one “evaluate” the “competency” of an eight year old? In most jurisdictions, competency involves the ability to understand the charges and assist counsel in the defense.
4. How in the fucking fuck does an 8 year old do either of these things?
5. Is everybody stupid but me?

 

This nameless kid sat manacled next to his mom in court, but you know who never felt cold steel around his wrists? Scooter Libby, that’s fucking who! The kid should’ve outed a CIA agent, lied to the FBI about it, and committed perjury before a grand jury. I hope all of you parents out there are paying attention. You might even get a groovy presidential commutation out of it. And nothing inpresses the other kids at recess like that.

 

Look at this for a second, teenagers.

 

 

Here’s what you see in the video; two cops and an eight year old boy. You don’t see a mother, legal guardian, lawyer, or anybody reading him his rights. And without a parent, a legal guardian, or a lawyer, reading him his rights doesn’t mean shit. You know why? Because the fucking kid is eight years old!  You cannot knowingly waive rights unless you can be reasonably expected to understand them.

 

If an adult - or even a teenager - killed those folks, the case wouldn’t have even gotten this far. That was addressed in a case called Miranda v. Some Place the Apache County Sheriff’s Department Has Obviously Never Heard Of.

These aren’t police officers, teenagers. They’re fucking pigs. If this is worth going to Arizona and starting a fucking riot over, nothing is.  Worse still, they want to try him as an adult. Hey, it could lead to a serious innovaion in the area of Fisher Price lethal injection kits.

 

Part of me actually wants to a see an eight year old convicted in adult court of murder, if only because I can’t think of anything funnier than seeing an Appeals Court Panel coming down from the bench, kicking the trial judge, the DA, and the State’s Attorney directly in the balls, before ordering those pigs and the Apache County Sheriff fucking beheaded.

 

Trying an 8 year old for murder. Now I really have seen everything, and think I can die now.

 

Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Pancho and Lefty  By: Townes Van Zandt  From: Live at the Old Quarter, Houston, Texas 

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Bonus Round: By the Time I Get to Pheonix  By: Issac Hayes From: Hot Buttered Soul

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If you like your job, try not to play this clip at work.

 

Special thanks to my beautiful Zombiegirl, who knows how much a man loves multiple cocksuckers.

 

Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Cocksucker Blues  By: The Rolling Stones  From: Bootleg

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