Earlier today, after exercising my second amendment rights while driving by an intersection in downtown Portland, Oregasm, known for rampant gang activity and shameless drug dealing across from the Graves Syndrome Building, I visited the site of Insecure Joel and commented upon his offensive body parts post which was inspired by recent trials and tribulations of the tit lady who was royally phucked by a bunch of stupid scumbags and has since become a potential Guiness Book of World Records holder for Web sites devoted to flipping the bird at pompous windbags that I like to call targets of opportunity, despite what official spokespersons for official killing machines paid for by your tax dollars want you to believe.
As was the case when I was locked out by Today.com, you can now get to her abandoned site without having to go through the doorman, but she can't do anything to fix or modify or remove the content she created there unless she wants to exercise her second amendment rights and track these assholes down and make them listen to reason. Or not.
You occasionally read about outrage that Google or other Matrix-based entities are censoring content available to wage slaves in fourth world countries at the request of totalitarian foreign governments propped up by NOMF corporations, but these worthless pieces of capitalist shit have been commercially censoring content for several years at home. I have written about this in my usual don't give a shit about it, about voting, about you, or about how meaningless life is way for more than a decade.
When you get hosed down the storm sewers after thinking that your insignificant parts trump the commercially controlled pubic good, I hope I know somewhere someone is bored enough to capture it on a video phone. Well, that's not really true. I can make up shit without you assholes, but you can't get anywhere without me, and I don't give a fuck about you.
Did I really say that? Of course not. I typed it with one hand.
So how do you resolve this problem? I've got nothing to lose and don't care about you. Isn't that special? Hey! Do I have to pay that faggot Dana Carvey or his massa Lorne for that or is it in the public and pubic domain?
No need to get back to me. I don't give a shit about rights or responsibilities. I just want to bring on the bomb. Don't you?
Google and organizations like it are the pathetic new massas and their slaves do not protest because they are only virtual slaves. The information technology work provided by Google slaves pays for geegaws and doodads.
Sure, Google and Microsoft and Intel and Apple employe "the best and the brightest," but they only offer emulation of imitation tiny Eichmans. I've been fucking with their asshole censoring apparatus without any outside help since before September 11, 2001, which was the day that made the world safer for censors, jackboots, and douchebags. That was the big change Goober Bush kept talking about and the Obamination is happy it didn't have to fight for.
I was invited to join Today.com last fall to write a post a day of at least 100 words for a buck, which I called less than Maggie's Farm wages, although the actual reference was to this song and apparently lost on much of the younger generations of NOMF devotees and skimmed over by old farts with obsessions that I find peculiar, repugnant, or utilitarian.
At some point in the forums at Today.com someone wrote something that seemed so pitifully lame about the goals and objectives that I responded by writing that I would not be happy in this life until my site was the number one Google result for insignificant penis.
In keeping with Today.com's suggestion that we include images, I included insignificant penis pictures that included Prince Charles, George Bush, and Natalie Wood.
I also exposed my insignificant penis and talked about it in the VIP forums, which, of course, I no longer have access to because one morning when I tried to get to my account, I found I was locked out by the massas and Scarletts and douchebags of liberty, justice, and commerce. Goddamn them jews and arabs. I hate them all because they apparently have bigger penises than I do. Even the cunts, who are still running the world, according to Jarvis No Relation Cocker.
My insignificant penis was attracting lots of attention at that point and I was finally among the fastest growing blogs in the Today.com soybeanlent green fattening pens when they cut me off, and the blood! The blood! Oh, Iranian elections, the blood that spewed from my mutilated imaginary member, gumming my keyboard, rendering my Mighty Mouse useless, driving Michael Jackson to kill himself...but that's another post for another time.
Oh, I don't know how else to put this than to say my penis is drained. Fourth time today. Thanks Joel for being the longest and the thickest. Pretty soon the jokers will have cornered the market on penis destination sites. It's enough to make me Twitter.
But at the same time I need to give a shout out to all those previous longest and shortest and tallest penises out there and hope that all their bare bear-breasted ladies will FUCK THEM ALL! as the Greatest Generation once did throughout Europe, Northern Africa, and the Pacific Theatre.
This is what made the Internet possible, fucking the long and the short and the tall, regardless of race, religion, gender, or sexual orientation, back in the era before anyone needed to ask or tell.
My insignificant penis is here for you, if you need it, Google it.
My insignificant penis is here for Google interns of either sex who want to earn some pataphysical kneepads.
My insignificant penis is here because God couldn't take it anymore, and I don't want to have to cite how potentially dangerous an insignificant penis can be without spiritual intervention.
And finally, I have to admit that my insignficant is helping make the world a safer place for the internal combustion engine and leading, finally, to a reenactment of the Summer of Love, which was more horseshit than the planet was able to process effectively back in the day, leading to out of control global warming and sex toy production and consumption.
All this led to the Republicunt Revolution in 1994, where some of the most ill-prepared followers in the history of Western Civilization took a country a little more than 200 years old (which, according to that obviously incorrect dead scumbag Frank Zappa "couldn't grow no meaner") and turned it into the nation of miserable fucks (NOMF™) that has made me a multi-millionaire.
I think that one day I may have to rewrite the previous paragraph in another post, but right now I am focusing on my insignficant penis, which is throbbing in my Michael Jackson collector's glove purchased during The Thriller period.
And I acknowledge that Joel has dibs on the longest penis and the thickest penis, but he has yet to challenge me or John Milton for going on and on about the trivial tool.
And for you ladies who have never sucked or fucked a truly insignificant penis, you need counseling. I'm telling you straight here. I have never met a penis that meant jackshit, and if you think you have, you are dumb, deluded cunts. Seriously.
In fact, I have never met anyone that meant jackshit, and I shook hands with JFK, the douchebag of Camelot, who gave me a bauble for being a Boy Scout who was going to bend over for God and country. One of the priests in the church he belonged to fucked one of my friends up the ass for penance.
So was that a Red Badge of Courage or a Scarlet Letter my buddy should have been wearing?
Have a nice Codependence Day!