I realize that I am incriminating myself by telling this story, but my guilt will not allow me to hold it inside. Roughly an hour ago I fatally wounded an international symbol of peace. You see there are these huge hybrid dove-pigeons that have taken over Kearney during the past five years or so. I never saw these birds in Nebraska while I was growing up but now they are everywhere. They look like giant turtledoves with a black ring around their necks. They look so beautiful and graceful and then when they open their beaks they sound like a butt-raped crow. They sound fucking horrible and you will do anything to make them shut up, but that isn’t the reason why I popped fifteen caps into one of these graceful bird’s feathered ass. My reason was much more just.
I was limping home from class after having my ass kicked by a midterm exam. I was wearing my solid dark brown t-shirt that I so adore because this winter brown is the new black, and this shirt will be coveted by the highest followers of fashion that roam the Midwest all winter long. This brown t-shirt is amazing, the only way that this shirt could cause onlookers to focus on the contours of my pectoral muscles and deltoids more is if it were made of latex. I had my gray hoodie with me but had taken it off because I was feeling a little sweaty for some reason and I was only a block away from my apartment, so I was walking the last block with my hoodie in hand to cool off before I got home.
So I’m limping and holding my sore butt cheeks when I hear the loud fluttering of wings in the tree ahead of me. I see two of these glorious dove-pigeons fly from the tree, slowly flapping their wings with a grace that Shakespeare wouldn’t even be able to put into words and controlling their movements through the air with stealth like technology that could have only been invented by the author of all nature. These motherfuckers are some graceful fucking birds. I looked up at them and thought, “Don’t these mutt birds know how to migrate?” I mean, it’s barely thirty degrees outside and why in the hell are these birds still hanging around? So I’m looking up at these lovely misplaced angels as they fly overhead and as soon as my face was looking forward again I felt, and heard, a light plopping sound on the back of my neck and down my back. I froze in my tracks. I looked up and back as the two piece of shit flying rats faded into the cloudy sky as they distanced themselves from the enraged man that one of them had just shit on. I didn’t look over my shoulder to clarify whether I had just been pooped on or not, I knew. I knew that one of them had pooped on me. Birds are warm blooded but this bird’s poop felt cold on my neck. These dove-pigeons are spawned from the foul depths of Hell and are most likely reincarnated assholes that died of a heart attack while watching ESPN or were killed in a bar fight that they started. I got back to my apartment and saw one of these dove-pigeons standing in my yard. I gave it the stink-eye as I walked past it and entered my apartment.
As soon as I got inside I ran to the bathroom as fast as I could while navigating the extremely narrow stairs that lead down into my apartment, stumbling at the bottom. I then crawled into my bathroom and pulled my self up with the sink so I could gaze upon the damage that the winged beast had inflicted upon my one of a kind fashionable shirt. I turned and looked at the back of my shirt in the mirror and sure enough there was a long white streak of bird shit that went from my neck to my lower back. I removed the shirt at once and washed the filthy scat from it with water and an old washcloth. By the time that I was finished there wasn’t a spot of dung left on the shirt, but my rage was still burning like a furnace. I peeked out of the window in my second bedroom that I have converted into a very miniature gym and saw the dove-pigeon walking all cutesy through my yard. It was doing its little bird-walk where it bobs its head as it walks and I swear to God it even looked over at me and grinned a little. That was it. I ran to my refrigerator and found my .177 Caliber 15xt Model CO2 Semi-automatic hand cannon resting on top; it’s from the praised Daisy Powerline series. I placed a fresh CO2 cartridge into the handle and loaded the clip on the side of the barrel with fifteen BB’s, making a full metal jacket. The safety was off while I was doing all of this and I am thankful that I didn’t blow my foot or face off in the process. I marched back up the stairs with my shirt off and my fully loaded hog-leg in hand. I kicked my front door open, walked around the corner, made eye contact with the dove-pigeon, and pointed my iron at him. There was a moment of silence as I thought about the evil deed that I was about to put into action. The bird made eye contact with me and non verbally said, “Hi friend. I love you.” I looked back at the bird and non verbally said with my gaze, “Fuck life!” And then my trigger finger took over.
I unloaded all fifteen rounds on this bird in less than seven seconds. My finger was pretty itchy and the only thing that could satisfy that scratch was the sensation of a willing gun trigger that moved at the whim of my evil thoughts. My gat can shoot BB’s at a velocity of 500fps, that’s 500 feet-per-second to all of you suburbanites and sheeple that refuse to practice your second amendment rights by owning deadly firearms to protect your property and family. The bird didn’t die. He fluttered his wings violently and squawked his crow impressionist squawk as he tried to fly away. As soon as the bullets stopped flying he flew away into the nearby alley in a labored fashion. I saw that his feathers were blood soaked and that he was suffering. Had he not flown out into the public eye and stayed in my yard between the house and garage then I would have put him out of his misery. Perhaps it’s best that he got away and will die in front of his fellow piece of shit inbred dove-pigeon friends and family. He will coo in pain and tell the story of the semi-automatic clap-clap cannon that took him out with laser-like precision, and the son of a bitch that did it to him, me. His fellow birds will avoid my yard or better yet they will hatch some sort of plan to revenge their friends death. I will respond to their attempts with BB’s and a complete lack of compassion for their avian kind. Birds literally have birdbrains so how complex of a revenge plan can they come up with, am I right? After telling this story I realize that feel no guilt at all. I know that he was not the same bird that shit on my amazing brown t-shirt, but I had to make a point. Birds should not fuck with humans.
Religion is like a penis. It’s okay to have one and it’s cool if you’re proud of it, but you should never take it out and wave it around in public and you should never ever take it to schools and shove it down little kids’ throats. That’s an ancient Wisconsin proverb and I believe in it wholeheartedly. This weekend, I traveled across the dismal plains of Nebraska into the gloriously vibrant metropolis of Denver Colorado again, and this time Ron and Connie, my parents, accompanied me on my whimsical interstate journey through one stretch of road and two time zones. And once again I was forced to drive their fart-maroon colored rust bucket that they call a 2012 Chevy Malibu instead of my platinum encrusted 2005 Malibu steed.
I prefer listening to NPR on the radio during long trips because music zones me out and I end up drifting the car across the center divide, sideswiping semi trailers and murdering interstate construction workers. However, NPR was broadcasting some bullshit about caring for hairless cats or whatever the fuck the androgynous sounding lesbo-fag-nerd broadcaster was talking about, so I listened to various political stations instead. Before I mention politics, according to a Wikipedia timeline radio stations began to broadcast speech in 1919 and the first entertainment/ talk broadcasts began in 1920. So talk radio stations have been around for 92 years and every other talk show is still about Christianity. Last I knew there was only one fucking Bible, and how in the fucking Christ can someone talk about the same goddamn book for 92 years and not feel like they’re just repeating themselves? Not only that, but every effing political talk show tries to bring up the religions of Obama and Romney and make it sound like it’s real fucking important to the voters. I really am on the fence this year even though my left side is a little heavier and makes me lean that way a bit, but if a candidate were to ever clearly promote their religion as being the key factor in their decision making process then I would never in a million years vote for them. When the shit hits the fan and a bunch of terrorists from Herpderpistan are blowing themselves up across the United States, I will not get behind the leader that is on their knees praying but I will be footing it with the leader that is running for their life while tossing grenades over their shoulder to kill the camel jockeys that are chasing them. It’s fine if you’re religious but it will never be more valuable than common sense and taking action. As they say, you can shit in one hand and pray in the other and see which one fills up first.
I would also like to air out my blatant intolerance or possible racist views towards the religion of Islam. I realize that there are good Muslims in the world and that not all of them want to blow up my precious ‘Murica, but I don’t care. You may not support the notorious gang but if you’re wearing their clothes and worshipping their handbook then prepare to take some shit for it. On every one of these talk shows, both on the radio and television, I never see or hear Islamic leaders speaking their opinions about radical Islamic terrorists. It’s cheesy and obvious whenever a president or leader denounces a terrorist attack because it’s expected, but I rarely if ever see Islamic leaders denounce terrorist attacks. I would greatly appreciate it if Limbaugh or Brian Williams would simply ask an Islamic leader how they feel about the Taliban trying to assassinate Madalka Yousafaggy for promoting the education of Pakistani women or if they think it’s cool that teens are strapping fertilizer and dynamite to their chests and blowing themselves up in Walgreens. Then people could really see how Muslims feel about Islamic terrorists. I have also read snippets of the Koran and it really does say that Muhammad is the only God and that anyone that doesn’t agree should be killed. It also states that women are lesser beings and should be denied everything from hotdogs to toilet paper and education. It’s a really shitty and hateful book and I just can’t seem to like anyone that worships it, let alone anyone that worships any book. I have seen videos of Muslims using ‘Murica’s freedom of speech to denounce our freedom of speech and say that we should be imprisoned or executed for saying anything shitty about Muhammad and they are spouting this shit out on our own turf. I am expected to tolerate their intolerance because it is their religious belief to believe that bullshit but they are not expected to tolerate my belief that their beliefs are bullshit. I think that some common sense should be used and whenever some doucher hops off of their flying carpet and preaches about killing innocent people that won’t pray to their make believe spaghetti monster in the sky, someone should interrupt them and tell them to “shut the fuck up”. Intolerance should never be tolerated no matter how many imaginary gods they have to back up their crap, and that includes every religion. It is 2012 and people are still looking for the answers to life in books that were written by incestuous nomads thousands of years ago. Believe me, writers’ use their writing to describe the reality that they live in and we are not living in the same reality that people were living in over 2,000 years ago. Get off of your knees and stop talking to an invisible person in the sky for help but instead talk to the billions of real people standing around you.
That was a long and stupid rant about religion, and now I want to talk about something else. For my own personal religious reasons I am currently growing a beard. I have a very beautiful baby face and I have never felt the need to cover my perfect looks with pubic hair but now I must in order to follow my religious beliefs. I am a week into this facial hair march to Mecca and I am already amazed at how fast my face can grow hair. I warn people to steer clear of my chin or they will be crushed under the waves of the waterfall like growth of my beard. It has only been one week and the lower half of my face already looks like an armpit with a mouth in the middle of it; I have begun to brush my teeth with Degree for men. It itches like all hell and I feel like a hobo but I must go on for another month with the growing of this beard. I am praying to lord Crom that my beard somehow ends up looking like Ben Affleck’s beard in the new movie “Argo” but I am having my doubts. Ben Affleck is a retard in sheep’s clothing but his beard is amazing. It is perfect in ever detail and wrinkles of jealousy and anger distort my face every time I must lay my eyes on it. I would not sleep with Ben Affleck but I would let his beard turn my asshole into its own two-car garage. If God were a bear then Ben Affleck obviously killed him and placed God’s hide upon his face. But my beard is fairly patchy and years behind my age in both its shape and density. I can only pray that it turns out for the best.
I also have a terrible cold and am treating it with zinc lozenges and whiskey and water. Pray for me.
Okay so Genesis, in the Bible, it is said that God created the universe and all that shit in six days. It also says in this same part of the Bible that day and night were separated by light and darkness. Despite saying “Let there be light!” on day one, God didn’t create the sun until day four. So how in the hell did he know how many days had passed before day four? Because there weren’t any days until the sun was created and God even said that himself beforehand, so day four would have actually been the first day. Despite how devoutly religious I am, I had to point out this one and only inconsistency that can be found in the Bible.
If a man rapes a hooker, he should be charged with shoplifting and not rape. The rapist didn’t introduce anything unfamiliar or traumatizing to the hooker by having sex with her, he merely stole her services without paying. Now if the man beats the hooker then he should face vandalism charges as well. Beating a hooker is uncalled for and should never be tolerated; the girl’s got to make a living and caving her face in is bad for business.