Litter is my most treacherous foe. I would like to eat its children

That guy crashed his plane into the IRS building in Austin, eh? That’s fucked up, man. He didn’t even get to live in the world without taxes that he created. That’s kind of beautiful and sad, like when a award winning showdog gets fucked in its dogpussy by a highschool all-state gymnast. Beautiful and tragic, all at once.
The world is going to hell in a sack. I should know, I’m on the side of satan and it’s my duty to bring down as many of you turds as I can before the rapture hits and it’s nothing but Growing Pains reruns, Twighlight films and Daughtry and Smoking Popes albums for the rest of eternity.
Hey! Speaking of, I’m playing with the Smoking Popes tonight! I think my unique take on irreverent antitheism should really blend nicely with their whole ‘that guy singing is born again, but the rest of us like to get high and receive blowjobs’ vibe that they like to project. Who knows? Maybe it’ll suck. I dunno anymore. I’ve been thinking about making shirts. Would you guys wear a shirt that said “Brendan Kelly isn’t someone to be fuckin with.” ? I would. But, well, if I’m wearing it, that’s one of those through the looking glass moments that borders on galactic poetry, like when Michael Jackson held the Bubbles impersonator while the Michael Jackson impersonator held Bubbles. Oh, you’re too young to remember that (assuming that’s something that ever actually happened)? Well, this is like that was.
Okay, so that’s all just minor league rambling. I’ve got a topic. We’ve touched on this before, but in the spirit of the guy flying his plane into the IRS building, it bears repeating.
It’s completely insane, fucked up people who are somehow just wandering around like everything’s cool and no one seems to say anything about it. Here’s an example, that we’ve discussed here at BSC before: Chuck Sheen. He’s a serial prostitute customer. Now, that’s no crime (well, it’s a crime…so I guess that’s ENTIRELY inaccurate, but what I mean is, that’s fine. Fuck whores if you want to. Someone’s gotta fuck ‘em. I mean, at the end of the day, a whore can come home and say “wow. What a lousy day at work. I hate being a whore, but look at all this money! Let’s call Sergio and get some blow” or she can say “wow, I hate being a whore and no one even fucked me today so now I’m suffering the triple whammy of A) being a whore B) not making any money and C) not having any cocaine and thereby really, really being even more bummed about A and B. In conclusion, fucking whores isn’t traveling to Haiti and making sure people have clean drinking water, but it’s not cutting people’s dicks off and storing them in the fridge either) BUT, Chuck Sheen is also a serial wife beater. That’s fucked, man. He hits chicks. Yeah. Okay, let’s back up, even. He hits PEOPLE. That’s fucked up enough. I’ve never hit anyone except for when they’ve been hitting me and there’s no way out but to punch a hole in the situation (not the guy from Jersey Shore, but rather the improper noun version of ‘situation’). This guy (Sheen, or Carlos Estevez, which is what it says on his birth certificate) not only has hit people, he’s hit women. He’s not just hitting women. He’s hitting the women he supposedly LOVES. And he’s hit them enough times that he’s been arrested for it SEVERAL TIMES. That makes him a fucking psychopath.
I’ve got buddies that are sketchy, not beating women sketchy, mind you, but sketchy just the same. I won’t let them into my house. CBS is hanging a fucking network on this nutcase. That’s fucked. I mean, doesn’t John Cryer, or the mom of that tubby little butterball on the show get a little nervous with Sheen just walking around un-Lechtered? It’s fucked. I mean, he’s just cruising around. Never mind that he’s a dangerous, fucked up, proven to be completely not-safe-to-be-around individual. Motherfuckers just don’t care. It’s fine. But you know who’s worse?
Mike fucking Tyson. That dude not only pushed Robin Givens down the stairs and served time in jail for being a fucking rapist, but he also BIT OFF A DUDE’S EAR RIGHT ON TELEVISION!!!!!!!!!! The other day, the Hangover won a golden globe and my good buddy Ed Helms and all the rest of those dipshits in that movie got up there and accepted the award with mike Tyson. Hey, yeah. Heh. Ha. Heh. It’s….uh, well. It’s sure nostalgia and it’s funny and it’s schadenfreude and all that, but dude, come here. Let me whisper something to you. Ready? Okay. Here goes: that dude, yeah. That one there. Right next to you. Yeah. Okay, that dude’s a FUCKING PSYCHOPATH!!!!!! What the fuck are you thinking? Get the fuck away from that guy. He could, at any moment, just decide to snap off your arm and beat your dumb, tubby buddy to death with it just because the notion pleases him. I mean this is a dude that spent his millions on a flock of harrier pigeons. For Real! Fuck.
What’s with us in this country and specifically in the world of entertainment? Oh, that dude made some money once so his behavior, (the same behavior that, were it perpetrated by my own BROTHER would be cause for me never speaking to him again) is forgivable, quirky even. I mean fuck. Michael Vick fought some dogs and he’s never gonna forget it, but hey, he's done his time. Whatever. Lesson learned. don't tell the white people you fight dogs, apparently. Chuck Sheen fights one chick every couple months with his own hands and knives and he’s got Denny’s knocking on his door the next day trying to get him to promote the newest scram slam or whatever. Tyson's more unstable than a grocery bag full of plutonium and kiddy porn and he's up on stage with his tattooed face just giggling along with a bunch of goofs in tuxedos and getting prestigious awards just because he was able to put the face eating on hold long enough to air drum to some fucking Phil Collins. Wowzers.
Fucked up, America. This is why we’re losing the space race. No morals. Just ask what’s his name. Pat Robertson. He’ll tell you all about the deals we make with the devil.
Okay, come see me tonight at Reggies. 8 pm. I gotta go to work.
Peaches.