I smell gunpowder...

Man, last night was my friend’s birthday party. It was at a bar and I showed up, had three beers over the course of about two hours and then went home because I knew I was gonna have to be up early today with my crazy child eating monster. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m becoming responsible or something. It’s terrifying, to put it mildly, but I’m getting to the point where reading sounds like more fun than going out and whipping my dick out on the table at a bowling alley. What’s happened to me? I used to be beautiful, man. Sigh. Well, you know what they say, right? Do you? I don’t either. Ha! Take that. There’s still a little irreverence in me yet. I’m not memorizing tired old adages about getting old and slowing down. No siree. Save that shit for your great aunty, am I right? Good. Okay, moving on.
Did you hear Pat Robertson? He let the cat out of the bag, so to speak, on this whole Haiti thing. Okay, let’s start at the beginning. Pat Robertson is a decrepit old assbag that preys on dumb people who are foolish enough to send him money when he tells them stories about people rising from the dead and walking on water and hating gays. He’s been doing this for years. He’s up there with Anal Roberts and Jerry Falwell (not literally, because, you know, they’re both up in heaven, presumably, with all their 21 virgins and all that, and pat Robertson’s down here overtly cavorting with his saggy old wife [I’m assuming he’s got one of those] and secretly with gay slaves and all that, none of whom are virgins, but we’re really getting off the point)…uh, oh yeah, he’s up there with falwell and Roberts in terms of being a manipulative genius/prick that’s made millions of dollars just begging from people. Howard Stern recently referred to televangelism as ‘one gigantic homeless jar’ and he’s right. You’re better off spending your money watching that guy that’s painted silver down by the shore come to life for a second than sending it to these dipshits. Check out the suits. Those are nice suits. Know who bought these assholes these nice suits? YOU, you fucking mouthbreathing reatards (rip).
Anyway, sorry. I get emotional when I talk about these guys, because lord knows I have a healthy hatred for a huge percentage of the world and I can make up bullshit fairy stories and pass judgment haphazardly with the best of them, but I’m not a millionaire, buying thousand dollar glasses and cufflinks with people’s similac money in exchange for empty promises about mansions in the clouds and a world without gays. Sheesh. I need to focus my energy. I bet falwell was already living in a house with an indoor pool by the time he was my age. Sad. That’s what I am. Just unmotivated. Where’s MY jesus, man? You know?
Anyway, so you get the idea, Pat Robertson, genius, man of faith, got a hotline to god, uh…wealthy, and host of a show called the 700 club. Recently on this show, he let us all in on the bombshell: The people of Haiti made a contract with Satan (‘this is true’ he paused here to interject) and now it’s biting them in the ass.
Let’s pause here to reflect on the fact that a GROWN MAN who’s supposedly a spiritual leader said this on television.
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Are we good? Okay. Firstly, dude, Haiti is one of the most overwhelmingly Christian nations on earth, clocking in at over 80%, so well, I guess at least you guys are talking about the same satan, right? Of course, man. Only one devil. Thing is, not a very cool way to shepherd your flock through what may very well turn out to be the greatest natural disaster of your lifetime, P Ro. Kind of leaving those Christians in a lurch, or you know, buried under tons of rubble, just figuratively, of course. Secondly, let’s just assume that there is a satan, and that he’s cutting deals with people. I know. I know. Just bear with me for a sec. They’re estimating half a million dead in Haiti, right? Yeah, that’s the sensational, yellow journalist high number, but let’s take that as fact too. AND, let’s just say that those are the ONLY people in Haiti that signed the deal with satan, kay? Okay. Good. Now, show me exactly how the fuck you get half a million people to come together and agree on anything at all, much less enter into a contract? I mean, fuck, dude. They don’t have hospitals and pipes in Haiti. Much less free wifi and town square flat screens. What’s satan doing, cuz I could use some promotion for my band and my blog and all that, and he seems to really know how to galvanize motherfuckers, even the poorest and most marginalized and fucked with of people, so good on him, I guess. Good on ya, satan!
Sheesh.

You know, the ambassador from Haiti was asked to respond to this statement, and he pointed out Haiti’s role in the development of the US, their integral role in the Louisiana purchase and so forth, and said something to the effect of ‘after all we’ve done as neighbors, this is how you’re talking about us when our dicks are in the dust?” Now, that’s a decent answer, but I would have rather seen him say “you know what? I’ve got a massive city in ruins, I’ve got dead and wounded on a level that I never thought I’d see, and I don’t give a fuck what some dumb, ignorant hillbilly has to say right now. There’s real shit going on, man.” That’s what we need in this world, a little more angry dismissal. That way, we don’t have to be subjected to, for example, two weeks of replays of Imus calling those chicks nappy headed hoes. He’s a fucking retatard (rip), man! He’s gonna say dumb shit. That’s what reatards (rip) do, man. Move on.
God. I’m so fucking sick of all the outrage. Sack up you fucking pussies!