Remember Dan Quayle? Walking punchline from the time before time (the pre-Clinton era)? Well, he's back. He's been re-incarnated as an even more dead-eyed version of his former self, carefully disguised as his own neo-con son. Like Voldemort from Harry Potter, he disappeared into the woods following his political death in 1992. The peasants rejoiced, thinking that He-Who-Must-Be-Ignored had perished forever. However, following a pact with the devil and some time spent living in Dick Cheney's forehead, he summoned enough black magic to assume human form once more. As part of the deal, however, he was forced to live in the hottest part of hell: Arizona. Worse, the Dark Wizard decreed that he must start his political career all over again, scrambling for entrance into the Chamber of Secrets, also known as the House of Representatives. This time around he resolved to be stronger and more dangerous, but just as much of a dumb-ass as ever. Below, he announces his return to the land of the living.
The worst president ever?! Worse than James K. Polk or Phineas Q. Pennyfeather?! Cripes! I'm pretty sure there's been like 4 bajillion presidents, so if Quayle says this guy's the worst, he must be really bad. Plus, wasn't he born in Antarctica or something? And what's this about cartels? CARTELS?! That's some scary-sounding shit. We need a guy who was "raised right" to knock the ever-loving shit outta this problem or whatever he said. The prophesied return of Quayle Man couldn't have come at a better time. He's back, baby, and this time he'll save us from the Mexicans and spell the shit out of "potato" (potatoe?).
Get it? It's Quail-Man from Doug. 90's throwback day, bitches. Get into it.
You don’t write a blog like this to “make people happy” or even “lessen the interminable, soul-crushing boredom suffered by most blog readers everyday.” No, you write a blog like this to piss people off. Thus, I feel like Bush a week into the Iraq War: by the very low standards I’ve set for myself, mission accomplished. I also feel like Bush, because I can’t resist the urge to say, “Suck it, Mom & Dad; I’m successful!” Also, I’ll probably go out and get shitfaced to celebrate, but I digress. So, who are we pissing off? Well, as it turns out, pretty much everyone who reads this blog. In the past month, no fewer than 3 people (fully 3 quarters of our readership if you count me) have told me they found this page “offensive” or “disgusting” and have called me (ME of all people, if you can believe it!) “an offensive, disgusting asshole” (not a very verbose lot, my readers) . The question is, why? The answer is, who cares. The other question is, will I tone it down? The answer to that, of course, is fuck no. Those people can guzzle cum until their shit looks like an Oreo Blizzard for all I care (see what I did there? Offensive and disgusting, right?). In fact, in honor of all the haters (Finally, haters! I feel like some poor, white bizarro-world version of Jay-Z and it’s awesome!) here are some things that I’ve been chastised for saying in public, that – when given the opportunity to properly explain them – are actually not all that terrible. Or maybe they are. Judge for yourself, just don’t base your response on some knee-jerk reaction of how you think you should feel. Anyway, enjoy!
This first one’s inspired by the Tea Baggers (I’ve actually heard them call themselves that. Is this a political party devoted to putting balls in your mouth? If so…count me in! I mean…nah, fuck it, I know what I said). These folks have diabolically figured out a way to make the most terrifying form of racism - the kind that involves mobs and town squares, not the fairly innocuous whispered, break-room joke kind – socially acceptable, even laudable, depending on where you get your news. The trick, apparently, is to pretend you hate our black, “Muslim” president, not because he’s a black, closeted Muslim, but because you hate TAXES! Duh. Everyone hates taxes. Granted, you didn’t seem to hate taxes a year ago and you’re not paying them to a distant monarch, but it’s easy to see how you’re driven by the same righteous indignation as your namesake band of weirdos. That’s right; bear in mind, the original gangstas put on make-up, tarred and feathered people, dumped some perfectly good English Breakfast into Boston Harbor…they probably weren’t playin’ with a full deck either. Just sayin’. However, they didn’t feel the need to carry muskets into Ye Olde Starbucks, or whatever they called it in colonial Seattle. So what does all this have to do with the Blueneck Offense Fest ’10? Well, I figured as a loving tribute to the Tea Tards, we should all start disguising our racial slurs as anti-big government invective. Por ejemplo, when discussing a neighborhood of ill-repute, you might say, “I wouldn’t rent a place there. It’s gotten pretty socialist in the past few years, if ya know what I mean.” Or, “I went to this bar on the Eastside, but if was filled with people who can’t find their birth certificates if ya follow.” Or even, “That’s the problem with the NBA, too many advocates of universal healthcare, amirite?” You get the point. You can still have the fun of looking over both shoulders and asking that pointed question at the end to ensure that you and your fellow, casual bigots are on the same page, but now there’s added political commentary and secretiveness. You get to get in a dig at Obama, plus the offended parties won’t know what the hell you’re talking about, because…let’s face it, those fist-bumping Sashas and Malias don’t read the paper anyway, ya smellin’ what I’m steppin’ in?
So, hopefully, you see my point – not all that offensive when I actually get to explain the whole thing without being eye-fucked by an entire room of overly-PC hippies. You’d seriously think I suggested that we need some random Asian to math us out of this recession or told that joke about Jews and copper wire. Lighten up, hippies! God, I thought the left was supposed to be the side with a sense of humor. Oh, right…not if it offends anyone. Freedom of fucking speech, ya'll!
This is typical of the sort of infighting and obliviousness that cripples the Democratic party and will lead to the kind of mid-term ass-handing that will effectively cut the one remaining ball off the donkey. We have a black president. To not make jokes about it amounts to a new kind of racism, as nothing about the lives of presidents has ever been off limits before. You think people didn’t make jokes about Taft being a fat-ass or Buchanan being queerer than a three-dollar bill (which was probably an actual unit of currency at the time, but you get the point)? If people knew FDR was in a wheel-chair the cripple jokes would’ve flown like a Timmy-heavy episode of South Park. And no one ever tried to censor South Park! Oh, wait.
Anyway, I won’t go into the various ways in which political correctness is a slippery slope that leads to the worst kind of self-censorship, or how when we seek to avoid offending others, we cease to truly speak for ourselves, or even how the most vile words in the English language draw their power from their ability to offend, and thus the sooner we learn to react to them with a collective shrug of indifference, the sooner they’ll drop out of common usage faster than Beta Max. I’m not gonna go into any of that. What I will do is relate another instance in which being offended took precedence over actually listening.
Barack Obama came to Buffalo last week and was greeted with the usual fanfare reserved for a sitting president – piles of cocaine, blow jobs from every corner of the Asian continent, miniature American flags for all, and, of course, plenty of twirling, twirling, twirling toward freedom. OK, at least two of those things are made up, but it was a big fucking deal, is the point. There’s not a whole lot going on in this city and we’re used to being let down by stylish black dudes.
(He failed to focus on touchdown creation during his first year in office)
The city performed admirably, despite acting a bit like a desperate loser on a first date with a solid 10.
Anyway, I was watching this public nut-stroking at home when a stranger sat down on the barstool next to me. He said something about how he drove past a local chicken wing spot earlier in the day and saw the presidential motorcade parked out front. “I guess Obama really loves wings,” the said, retardedly. “Yeah, big surprise,” I replied, assholishly.
From the look on his face, you’d think I’d popped a squat on the bar and took a shit in his beer. Then I realized my mistake. Or, rather, I realized that he was a PC dumb ass. As he slowly backed away from me, as though I’d told him I was crawling with AIDS-infested bed bugs, I realized he thought I would make the same remark if someone told me that Obama took first place in a seed-spitting contest at a watermelon festival. In other words, he thought I was a racist.
If he had given me a moment to explain, I could’ve told him that my mock surprise was not a result of my belief that black people like chicken (though who could blame them? Chicken is fucking delicious), but rather the fact that politicians like free publicity and folksy glad-handing. But that’s how these PC jerk-offs operate. They’re as judgmental, stubborn and close-minded as the racists and homophobes that they’re so vigilant about exposing. They call it a knee-jerk reaction for a reason: it’s made without thought, without even engaging the conscious part of the brain. It’s no exaggeration to say that there’s no way to simultaneously be honest and afraid to offend. There’s no way to have an open dialogue about race and the other issues that divide us as a nation without occasionally rubbing someone the wrong way. So, lighten up knee-jerk-offs. Stop jumping down my throat when I’m not even trying to offend. I have a strong gag reflex.
In the weeks leading up to the Super Bowl, two proposed ads earned their keep before they even aired by stirring up a shit storm of controversy. Since the point of advertising in the modern era seems to be to piss everyone off, thereby creating next-day conversation at the mythical office water cooler, thereby making non-existent Dilbert drones dwell on your wares until they eventually break down and spend their meager shekels on Snuggies (or, in this case, fuck other dudes or not have an abortion. Look, I don’t get it either!) both of these spots (even the one that didn’t air) were, uh…successful? Yes, according to my research (by “my research,” I mean the 2 ½ bottles of wine I just drank. Said research also indicates that I should totally grow a moustache, finish the shit outta that screenplay I’ve been working on and start rockin’ suspenders, just so everyone would be, like, "whuuuuh?").
So yeah, the Man Crunch and Tim Tebow ads both garnered a lot of attention despite being pretty inoffensive when actually viewed instead of just read about (provided you think tackling middle-aged women and same-sex tongue-fucking are inoffensive. If not, It’s a good thing you weren’t at my Super Bowl party). What frustrates me about the Tebow ad is the ingenious way its creators rode the wave of pre-emptive criticism and allowed it to do the advertising for them. Come Super Bowl Sunday (I mean “big game Sunday.” Fuck! Am I gonna get sued now?) all the pro-life nut jobs had to do was step in and deliver a surprisingly mild-mannered spot to make the critics look like they were the nutty ones. As far as I can tell the agenda followed by the fine folks at Focus on the Family went something like this:
1.) Court controversy by announcing plans for politically-charged pro-life commercial to be aired during traditionally apolitical Super Bowl, thus garnering more attention than a million exposed Janet Jackson titties.
2.) Allow liberal talking heads to explode in outrage thus stirring the proverbial turd just as the pro-lifers had hoped
3.) Air weirdly mild-mannered commercial
4.) Get this response from Middle America: “Hey I don’t know if I want that virgin mixing his political peanut butter with my Super Bowl chocolate....grumble, grumble, grumble…Hey that weren’t so bad. He done tackled his ma, har har. All they’s askin’ me to do is visit a dern website. Maybe it’s them pro-choice liberals that’s the nutty ones.”
Rubes successfully manipulated.
That said, I’m forced to momentarily stray from the traditionally liberal stance of this blog to say that while I may not be a huge fan of the decision, I definitely understand CBS’s choice to not air the Man Crunch spot. I’m all for gay rights, freedom of speech and blahditty, blah, blah, but at the end of the day, CBS is a privately-owned corporation that’s free to choose its advertisers and…eh, c’mon no one wants to see two dudes make out when they’re trying to watch football.
Besides, these ads are basically saying the same thing. If all guys started fucking each other in the ass, we wouldn't need to have so many abortions. Yeah, yo. I know it's good when I even offend myself a little bit.
Here’s some other ads that piss me off. Some Super bowl, some not. Some insidious, some just plain retarded. Enjoy:
Here's another one that aired during the “Big Game” (which – according to current trademark infringement laws – is the only thing that you’re allowed to call the Super Bowl without the NFL commissioner sending Ray Lewis to your house to shit on your forehead and have his way with your wife. It's true. Look it up). Now, some of you may be tempted to describe the following travesty as funny or even “cute” (*vomits in his mouth*), but when you think about it, according to the ethical standards and social mores that have governed the actions of decent human beings for, lo, these many millennia, it might be the most perverse, fucked-up thing ever committed to film (and I once saw a porn involving a tree limb, a suit of armor and a starved wolverine). Observe:
What. The. Fuckhole? Again, at first glance, this may seem pretty innocuous - even appealing. Who doesn’t like the idea of infants being manipulated by the magic of technology into some weird cross between Gordon Gecko and Dane Cook? Um…everyone who’s not a sick fucking fuck, that’s who. But the male baby is nothing new, he’s been buying low, selling high and presumably ripping lines of talcum powder off some supple nursemaid’s ass for years now (actually, the original was recently switched out for a younger, cuter baby – a disturbing testament to our nation’s ever-worsening obsession with youth). No, it’s the infant Lohan-in-training that’s truly disturbing (they even named her Lindsey. How droll). What's implied is that some of sort of sick baby booty call took place, wherein these two infants got shitfaced on milk (as babies are apparently wont to do) and engaged in weird crib-rocking baby sex. Oh, now I'm the gross one, right? No, yo. This isn't some innocent, Pebbles and Bam-bam shit; the baby who's unfortunately cast in the skank role spent the night got wasted and...giggidy, giddidy, goo, goo, gah, gah. Like I said, kinda gross when you think about it. This coming from a dude who used the term "tongue fucking" like two paragraphs ago.
If you don’t live in New York State, you probably never saw this weird and unnecessarily disgusting anti-smoking ad on billboards and bus stops all over the goddam state.
What this ad purports to be saying is that smoking is a dirty nasty habit that will make you go blind – like masturbation. What it’s actually saying, however, is, “LOOK AT THIS GROSS EYE WITH THE ONE OF THOSE WEIRD CLOCKWORK ORANGE CLAMP THINGS ON IT! ISN’T THAT FUCKED-UP?!”
Yep, that’s some nasty shit. Sure don’t want to look at that every time a bus goes by. But what the fuck does it have to do with quitting smoking? What’s always chapped my ass about anti-smoking ads is that they always adopt the tone of a bunch of non-smokers standing behind a two-way mirror, pointing and laughing at the cancerous asshole on the other side. Wouldn’t it be way more effective to sympathize with and even pander to smokers? I mean really, pull out all the stops; it’s a pretty noble cause. Maybe get some famous ex-smokers like Brad Pitt or Barack fucking Obama (or pretty much every other cool celebrity. C’mon, no kids read this. Come to think of it, no one reads this) say he knows how much it sucks to quit, but he did it so blah, to the blah, blarr. Besides, this is New York, the guy in charge is blind and he sucks. Are we to infer, therefore, that smoking cigarettes can lead not only to blindness, but to being a shitty governor as well? The last guy fucked hookers and ruled. Does fucking hookers lead to bald Jewish bad-assness? What if you smoke when you’re done with the hooker? I’m confused. Verdict: shitty ad.
These Doritos ads are just plain fucking retarded:
Why wouldn’t the dude just eat his weird samurai suit or go to the nearest corner store and drop fifty fucking scents for a bag of vile hillbilly chow? What were they out of cooler ranch? Again, r-tarded.
This one’s actually kinda great, though:
I support anything that encourages killing people who eat Doritos, even if the murder is committed by another Dorito-eater. Kinda like how skinheads feel about black-on-black crime. Thinning the herd, ya know? (Hate mail can be left in the comments section below.) On the real, though, Doritos, what's with the fucking death campaign? Why are we being encouraged to kill each other for...um, little flakes of something coated with something. Wow, I've been eating those things my entire life and I just realized I have no fucking clue what they're made out of. Gross.
So it’s been widely reported that Megan Fox used a thumb-double for this Motorola ad, but the real story is that Megan Fox is stupid and she sucks.
(Hey, baby, do you come here oft...OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO YOUR THUMBS???!!!)
So, Megan Fox has the ability to turn gay guys straight and make teenage boys jerk-off. Bullshit. the only thing that teenage boys and gay dudes agree on is that ball hair is something to get excited about. As you may have guessed, this really has nothing to do with the quality of the ad; I just hate Megan Fox for some reason.
In conclusion (and as a sort of eye bath to wash the image of Megan Fox’s toe-thumbs from your eyes like a bracing splash of Listerine after a particularly sloppy blow job), here’s two examples of advertising awesomeness. One’s from a guy who clearly knows his shit on the topic and the other, is the most interesting man in the fucking world. Enjoy.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R2bLNkCqpuY
(embedding disabled due to dickishness. Watch it anyway, yo.)
P. to the S. -
Now that I've been fitted with this fashionable ankle bracelet, I'm forced to abandon my usual late-night hobbies of peeping and hobo strangling, so expect more posts soon. And remember, Megan Fox is a vile twat-rocket. Peace!
