Get Your Squick On

Some people ask me why I have to bring up my various sexual deviancies on this blog that is, at least ostensibly, a gun blog.  You've heard a lot about it and you'll hear a lot more, especially if things heat up with a charming unicorn in our future sometime.  Part of the reason is that I like making people uncomfortable; I view it as a calling and, let's face it, that is more or less the only thing I'm any good at.

But the real answer of "Why here?  Why on your gun blog?"  That one is generally "Because I'm the libertarian you have to live with."

Do you believe in personal freedom or not?  (And personal freedom in the closet isn't freedom at all.)  I can live with you expressing your aversion to my lifestyle, but can you live with me living that lifestyle and not covering it up?  If not, despite any concurrent views we might have on the gun issue, we are on opposite sides of the culture wars.

In the end, it has become my way to preemptively weed out those that wouldn't be comfortable around me, and get a few cheap shock laughs along the way.  Nothing about that is inconsistent or hypocritical and I have made that point before.  And honestly, no one has ever come here to give me any shit about it-but maybe that is because I've made it clear from the beginning.

I'm not breaking your leg or picking your pocket-so what's the fucking problem?

Grind His Boners to Make My Bread

So in conversation the other night, a fetish came up that I actually had to google.  And I figure "Hey, if you need to google this shit, it's going to be new to a lot of people-why not squeeze a blog post out of it?"  (You have now figured out why 99% of this blog is posted.)

Anyway, the fetish is called "Vore."  That is, V-O-R-E.  It is apparently represents those with the sexual fantasy involving giants eating people.

I'm not kidding.  Go on, google the term, you pussy.

Anyway, Vore specifically specifies a size difference; otherwise it's just plain old cannibalism fetishes.  And I'm not sure if it only involves giants; I wonder if getting eaten by a dragon qualifies?  Or what about a normal sized person eating people that have been shrunk down and kept in a fish tank?

In case you were wondering, the point of this exercise is to make you realize that somewhere, somehow, someone is masturbating furiously while thinking of Shrek devouring their face.  You're welcome, Internet.

And oddly on the same vein...

..because for fuck's sake I should be posting something funny once in awhile.

Think of the Children

An offensive message and possibly some jailbait tits.  What more do you sick fucks want?

Cribbed from You Sick Bastards on facebook, a vast virtual conglomerate of the internets half baked witticisms.  I find it keeps me in memes.

Pimping and Stuff

If you linked me or blogrolled me and I haven't reciprocated, let me know. I don't always catch everything in the stat meter because I am, as The Bastard Alaskan would so kindly put it, a stoner waste of skin.

Speaking of the Bastard Alaskan, he drops some knowledge in this post. The reading comes at a time when it has become painfully relevant again.

Via Kerodin I caught wind of this bit: Neo Nazis On Patrol in Florida. That fits the fucking race war narrative perfectly. Remember these skinhead fucks are not our friends, even when they agree with us-and this is going to create more problems than it solves. How much press would this have gotten if it was a hispanic rights group patrolling instead? Do you think they know Zimmerman is a Hispanic Democrat?

If you are on Facebook, check out Punk Rock Libertarians and Punk Rock Homesteading. It has become pretty common for me to share every damn thing they post, so I thought I'd pass the link along. Remember, Tribe is where you find it.

Oh, and I got a trackback from a site I won't link here with some snarky commentary about my Unicorn Hunting post. The principal concern of the Pissants For the Ethical Treatment of Unicorns is the concept of "couples privilege." Folks, when you have to invent a new term to showcase your victimhood, there is no meaningful way to for us to communicate. We no longer speak the same language. Jah blessings on you, you strange sad creature.

A Bit About My Avatar

First, a couple of reference items.

Unicorn hunting on Urban Dictionary

The Hunt of the Unicorn on Wikipedia

So yeah. Unicorn hunting. Fundamentally, this is my excuse to drop a bit of culture on your face and a bit of an inside joke with regard to my sexual proclivities.

You'd be surprised at how common this sexual quirk is; do a quick search on your local craigslist and you will find that there are a lot of wannabe unicorn hunters out there, so much so that any f4f ad generally includes the terms "no couples." But it exists in the dark, in the gutter, in the cracks between modern social institutions. There are no Unicorn Hunter activists, no Unicorn Hunting for dummies, no Unicorn Hunter only dating sites. Certainly no college scholarships or pride walks. A lot of people don't approve of it-even within the poly community. Fuck 'em.

Hunting the unicorn in the wild is the most exquisite of pleasures Amanda and I share. It lets us ride the rush of newly minted lust without shattering our home life. It lets us experience the thrill of the hunt while keeping the stability of a relationship. It is the dangerous thrill of the shared secret combined with a mutual appreciation of the female form. It is a taste of decadence with the safety of home. You want to know why it is as popular as it is, so popular that a bunch of tweed clad poly intellectuals have to invent a snarky term for it? Because it's fun, goddamn it. Nothing more. It's fun, and apparently a lot of other people think so too, and having a blog and an industrial sized tube of three dollar words doesn't make you the grand holy arbiter of whose sexuality is valid.

I'm taking the term back, motherfuckers.

Deal.

How To Win My Sword

There is a post over at Kerodin's place about the moral components of this whole 10th amendment ruckus.

The fundamental crux of the question seems to be "What are we fighting for? Decency and Chastity, or Freedom?" I want to drop my .02$ in the night deposit box on this issue.

A sex negative revolution will fail. All kinds of sex, even deviant sex, is simply too mainstream-and this is a cultural change, not a government change. You can blame the media, you can blame the jews, you can blame the jewish media or the Fungi from yuggoth-it doesn't matter, the culture has and is changing in favor of fewer hang ups about the meat between your thighs. Unless you want to institute government (i.e. swordpoint) control of these things, you are not going to get them via a shooting war. A government that can engage in that kind of social engineering fuckery has officially gained too much power over the daily lives of the citizens. We fight a war and set up a government like that, we have lost again-and indeed it is one of my ugliest fears.

Let me tell you, gun blogosphere-I'm not going to live in a country where I can't jerk off. Consider the next part of this post a warning.

I'll start the underground rainbow railroad for queers. I'll organize safe houses for atheists. I'll volunteer my tribe as armed guards for Slutwalks. I'll out political figures in the new government who force their sexual mores on their neighbors while secretly frequenting glory holes-and that's my natural environment motherfucker, you know I'll catch a few. I'll send my girl to seduce the wives of militia commanders. And if pushed, even by a new "constitutional" government, I'll make the culture war a shooting war. I'm that fucking serious. Maybe i'm in the minority, but when the shit finally settles, I am a free man who must do what he thinks is right. Also fuck you. I want my porn.

Our focus needs to be on those who have perpetuated a greater sin than lust. I am focused on the sins of those who swore an oath BEFORE GOD, ON A HOLY BIBLE, to defend a document that they subseuqently shat on with great malice and foresight. This, and only this, is the fundamental sin that we must concern ourselves with-and indeed, blasphemy before the Lord, giving your word to Him when you don't mean it, is a far more unforgiveable sin than buggering goats. All other issues are wedge issues, jerk off issues, compared to this. Getting all hot and bothered under the collar over a belly shirt or a gangbang is burning the forest for the trees.

The Poly Pickle

God knows you all know too much about my sex life, but here goes anyway. Mom, again, this is one you might want to skip.

You wanna know something interesting about poly? Maybe something you hadn't considered?

You are still putting your heart out there, man. You're still risking getting it stomped on.

For some people a relationship is like a safe refuge; once they are "out of play" then they can sit contentedly on the side with their self esteem intact. In fact, some of these people cherish this sensation so much that they careen from one relationship to the other, eternally seeking not love but safety.

You don't have this luxury when you are poly, particularly as a Unicorn Hunter. You still have to go out there and face the possibility of rejection. Let me tell you, America-it still hurts. Even when you have the most wonderful, supporting wife in the world, going out there and being told no is still a hit on your self esteem. I've kind of been learning this lately, and it has hit me harder than I expected. Poor Amanda, who takes on duties that no good man's wife would ever have to, has been nothing but comforting to me during this period, and oddly it seems to make it worse. She is a good woman, and doesn't deserve to have to do something like that.

Long, rambling story short, I tossed my heart at the feet of someone I'm incompatible with and it hurts, and I think people forget that about the poly lifestyle, that there is no sense of spectator safety-that you are still taking risks.

I'm not planning on changing my lifestyle, repenting and joining the Westboro Baptist Church anytime soon...I can't change, I'm just wired wrong...but it has given me a lot to think about. And I thought it might be something you should think about too.

A Stunning Return To Form

So, you bored with tales of the World's Least Sober Militia yet? Should I make with the disturbing shit again?

Yeah, I thought so.

I've been building up this elaborate sexual fantasy lately about a piece of music.

It is in the "third girl" fantasy book; one of the thickest chapters of mine, naturally. Such is the nature of my perversion that thinking about even mundane romantic bits like the wedding ceremony or just cuddling together watching a movie in a tangle is deeply arousing. Usually the girl is unspecified (well, there have been a few common daydream candidates) but she is mostly a collection of nebulous fantasy qualities.

Anyway, the fantasy in question is that we are dating a musically gifted student, who is playing at the Musical Arts Center at IU, in an early stage of our overall romantic involvement. So we drop her off there and get all dressed up to go to the show, and she is out there in the orchestra, a neat little dark haired chick whose punk rock leanings are concealed carefully beneath a black turtleneck (her piercing is out too) and she starts to play. Anyway, it comes time for her string solo (she plays the cello, mandolin and a few other insturments) she goes to the front of the orchestra and prepares her cello.

She doesn't dedicate it to us exactly, but her eyes find us in the crowd, dressed up and holding hands, and this small, secret smile appears on her face. Manda and I are almost overwhelmed by that potent, shared secret rush-and fantasy chick starts cooking off a slow, tender solo that becomes swelling, passionate and complex, and finishes with a sort of Chopin like rising Crescendo. She caps it off with a little coquettish bow at the end where her eyes search us out again, and takes her place in the Pit again.

It ends there, although I have a feeling this girl gets fucked in a backseat before the after party while Tchaikovsky's 1812 overture rattles the windows-and covers the squealing. But that occurs offscreen, though anticipation of it enriches the actual scene, giving it a sexual charge.

Yeah, I'm that fucked up. That shit just turns my motherfucking crank, man.

Pause: The Limits of "No Homo"

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Hannah Montana & The Fundamental Injustice of Humanity

So like any good natured American pedophile, Our Hero finds himself pausing the DVR when a piece of hot white jailbait ass comes on the screen. Or he would, if he had a DVR or the technological savvy to use one properly. But he doesn't, and he can't, and so when Our Hero is trying to do what any red blooded male would do during Hannah Montana and jerk off to Miley Cyrus, he finds it impossible. Why? Because at least every 90 seconds that goddamn prick Billy Ray Cyrus appears on the screen, and Our Hero understandably loses his hardon the second it happens, overcome by a virulent hatred that drives all other emotions from his weed and adderall fried brain.

The fundamental thrust of this article is this: that "Achy Breaky Heart" is the greatest atrocity in the history of mankind. I really don't have a problem with Miley Cyrus or Hannah Montana or the Disney Channel or anything like that; America needs it's legal child pornography, or what are all the pedos going to whack off to? No, no, what I have a problem with is that in a just universe, the man who made "Achy Breaky Heart" popular would have died in obscure poverty. Yet from just the kickbacks he gets from that show, he will love in comfort and ease for the rest of his life. I mean, we hanged Saddam Hussein for genocide, yet Billy Ray Cyrus commits Genrecide and he is forgiven because he has a hot daughter with nominal singing ability.

Let me break it down for you, the top ten atrocities of the last century.

10: The Cock Taco
09: Hot Coffee
08: The Rwandan Genocide
07: The Rape of Ethiopia (And the pud pulling of the League of Nations by extension)
06: The cancellation of Firefly in the first season
05: "Wow, Jess, she waved back!" *heartsick voice* "REALLY!?!?!?" "No."
04: The War on Drugs and accessories
03: The Holocaust
02: Stalin's more awful, less selective Holocaust
01: "Achy Breaky Heart"

That's a list, motherfucker, you know you can't disagree with it. And yet Billy Ray goes on and on, not executed, not fined, not even scolded harshly by the United Nations (In this, I suppose, he is much like Italy with the League of Nations in number 7). No, the fucker just goes on and on with his faux white trash accent and his stupid fucking flavor savor that gives me hate sores all over my body and kills my hardon when I am trying to masturbate to his daughter.

If that isn't proof of an unjust world, I don't know what is.

The American Wet Dream

So not being able to write at work is chewing on my resolve. At one time I could discretely both log on to ZS and save my text in a preview post in the forum to copy over later to the blog or to the novel or whatever. I could do this because of a foolishly simple backdoor in their security protocols. (If you are wondering why I am not on ZS any more, that is why-and because I feel bad about showing my face there without more story updates.) Anyway, they finally figured it out and blocked it.

It cut me off from my main source of reading material-gun blogs and the Zombie Squad forums-as well as from my way to write at work. Luckily, I have kind of solved both problems with my Kindle-I think. With it I can both save blogs and forums for later use at any time, and kind of make notes in certain documents. Last night I managed to start a porno novel-just a couple of pages, but the fact is I have finally adjusted to the flow, albeit in a cumbersome way, and badaow! I just might be back in business.

Lately I have been contemplating a porno novel writer's life. I see these things for sale in the porn shacks and shit, so somebody must be publishing them. And in my head there is always a porno track playing, so I was just doing something that came naturally to me-living an overtly absurd and cruel fantasy life. And it comes easily to me; I think once I get going I'll be able to bang one out (hee hee) every month or so. If I can get, I dunno, two or three hundred bucks a pop for a trashy porn novella...fuck it, I ain't above it. Never have been, never will be. And hey-won't it be nice to have a tossy novel that has its gun facts straight?

I should probably work on my other shit too, and I will, but this time, this year...I think this is the year of the Sky Valley Slave Academy. Why? Because if they say write whatcha know...do I know perversion, baby.

Look forward to slash be warned: I may have a preview for you sick fucks. I'll mark it LSFWTU (Less Safe For Work Than Usual) because I'm such a motherfucking saint.

Relationship Advice from a Fuckup, Part I

This one is going to be more fucked up than most of them, folks. Please sign this waiver to indicate you have been warned. Mom, uh, you might want to skip this one. You know this stuff about your son anyway, but the discussion itself might bother you.

So recently I learned that our friends were poking fun at Amanda's and my verbage when we are together, specifically saying "love" to address each other. Nothing unusual about the mockery; in this group nothing is sacred when it comes to mockery, from race to childhood sexual trauma. It is part of how we interact, and harmless.

People who do not know me are often surprised by how demonstrative and affectionate I am with those that I love in general and to my wife in particular, especially given that our relationship sometimes involves a gag made of damp panties or an orgy under a sheet fort. I am not shy with my physical affection for anyone, partially because my family, fucked up though they are, never made me feel ashamed about it, and partially because of some very sage advice on the part of my grandfather. He told me there are two ways to keep a woman happy-affection, and jewelry-but affection is free.

It is more than that though, and part of it has to do with how amazing my wife is-it is easy to love her, because she is insanely grateful to have it. She is witty, practical, a perfect comedic foil and (not a minor issue) motherfucking brilliant in the sack, with a capacity for enjoying pain and humiliation that is just exquisite. So in my (twisted) thinking, let me update that saying to my particular situation here, and make it "If you fall for a woman who will happily eat your cum off her girlfriend's face, you call her whatever the fuck makes her happy, and you shout 'Snoogie Woogie Lumpkins' from the muthafuckin' rooftops, because she deserves all the happiness she is willing to give you."

I'm glad she is content with "Love" though. "Snoogie Woogie Lumpkins" kind of makes me nauseous.

An Interesting Quote

"You who have defeated us say to yourselves that Babylon is fallen and its works have been overturned. I say to you still that man remains on trial, each man in his own dock. Each man is a little war."

-Paul Mua'dib Atreides, quoting one of the obscure books in the Orange Catholic Bible.

Hi, I'm Chris By-The-Throat. I take fiction way too seriously.

Let me tell you about the Fall of Babylon.

According to some interpretations of the pre-translation version of the scripture, God didn't kill all those motherfuckers in Sodom and Gommorrah for buttfuckin', and thank God for that. He killed them because they were rude to their guests and demanded sexual favors of their angels as the price of shelter. It wasn't the buttfuckin' folks, it was because they had enough to give, and yet they asked so much. It was greed, not lust, that they paid for.

Why does the SHTF happen? Often, because we deserve it. And on one scale or another, it happens to everyone. Sure, losing your job and sucking dick for your diet pills lacks the panache and white hat morality of zombies, but anything can wreck your life, and it is most often because you fucked up somehow. Oh, you can get fucked too-some people make a career at it-but most of the time, people reap what they sow, and if what they sow is laziness and greed, they can expect lean returns. The universe rewards those that stop moaning and put their shoulder to the wheel-sometimes. But that doesn't mean your world can't turn upside down any fuckin' second, all without Russian paratroopers on your lawn setting up a PKM, and part of living well and doing your duty to God and your family is being prepared to deal with it when it comes up anyway, and most people can't even be bothered to do that.

Every man is on trial, and the universe is infinitely self correcting. The people who say "I want more and I don't have to work for it" think they have won, with a welfare state in control of a legion of debt slaves, when everyone knows that the money isn't there, the money isn't real, and the money that is real is a sad joke about to stop being funny for everybody but me.

Each man may be his own little war, in this savage and strange Babylon where greed makes the rules and people that profess to a moral backbone are slurping at the trough just as greedily, but man, they hate that butt fuckin' so much that it lets them get elected again and again.

God help them, and God help us all..

That has been your stoned rant for the day, please resume your responsible gun blogging.

From My Myspace Blog - The Perils of Polyamory

People occasionally ask me why I choose the bizarre sexual lifestyle I do. Like many other things, it really roots back to childhood daydreams, which I still refuse to believe to be invalid or impossible.

I have a lot of dreams like this, and with slight modifications I generally make them my goals. For instance, post apocalyptic warlordism is still on my list of goals, and every day I do a little more to make that dream possible. My plan is no longer what it was when I was seven or so (gather an army of kids, arm them with bolt action rifles I'd stolen from Wal-Mart, and take on the world) but it is still essentially a plan to ensure my dominion of the shattered post-zombie wasteland. I can't help that; I cling to dreams like that.

The two girlfriends dream is not that much different, and dates from around the same age. Like the zombie warlord dream, it probably stems from too much goddamn brain rotting material-in this case a small and rather obscure video game called Wizards and Warriors.

Frankly it's a crap game, though I still love it for it's bizarre nostalgia. For a long time it and Mario were the only games we had in the house. The basic premise is that you go around fighting various oddly colored bad guys and rescue princesses in bondage from terrible nasty bosses.

The game's premise was simple and as I played it in my youth, I came to a sort of conclusion-a man (a warrior) is entitled to as many princesses as he can rescue. Every level had one; every time you defeated a boss she was lowered to you on a rope and gave a little thank you speech. And in my head, this was right and good and made perfect sense-I never even questioned that Our Hero was now married to all 8 of these foxy princesses in peril, and naturally got to nail them every night.

It wasn't until later that it even occured to me that one girl was the norm for most people; I had always assumed that I got to keep any princesses I rescued for almost three years. No catch and release for me, hell no-I save your ass and it officially belongs to me.

And like most of my childhood dreams, it has evolved somewhat-I won't say matured, because the term doesn't work-but fundamentally, I'm still expecting to hack through some giant spider's neck and add another pretty girl to my collection. Not that the one that I have isn't awesome-she is frankly the perfect girlfriend for many reasons, not the least of which is she puts up with this crazy bullshit I'm always spouting-but to me, a man is entitled to what he can wrest from the forces of darkness. It's not very progressive, it's not socially liberated and it damn sure would drive any feminist nuts-but like all my childhood dreams, I'm going to cling to that fucker with both hands.

And my shining sword....er, AK...is perfectly capable of slaying whatever boss is necessary.

Give me Cunnilingus or Give Me Death

So theres a lot of growing buzz about a civil war lately, in both the gun blogs and even the main stream media.

It puts me in an unusual position, as a gun nut. I believe that it is the right and duty of the people to overthrow any government they cannot stomach. If I thought that a) the government could not be changed by nonviolent means and b) that they were unfairly imposing on our civil liberties as Americans, I like to think I'd do my part to help out the effort to hang any and all appropriate persons. It may not be true; I'm not a badass operator and I don't pretend to be, so it's possible I would get stoned and cower behind my stack of D&D books. But I like to think it.

The conundrum is thus; a bunch of people are making a lot of noise about a return to the constitution. This is great, and I approve of their initiative. What I suspect are their motivations. Once the Big O got elected, suddenly every conservative, even the most repugnant of neocons, suddenly became a stalwart defender of constitutional liberty and limited government. It's the old saw that gets thrown in the Tea Partier's faces-where were you when Dubya was raping the constitution? The answer? Getting rich from various forms of war profiteering, playing footsie under airport bathroom stalls, and ramming domestic wiretapping through a panicked congress. But make no mistake-what began as a libertarian movement is in danger of being hijacked 9-11 style by conservatives who are so desperate to regain power that they will give sloppy lip service any crazy idea-even such radicalism as following the Constitution they swore an oath to.

It is this that concerns me. Let us suppose, for a moment, that our fearless general chris by-the-throat joins up with the budding revolutionary army organized to bring the constitution to a federal government grown too corrupt to safeguard our liberty anymore. By some miracle he comes through alive and is well liked and lauded by his peers, whom he helps put an emergency congress together along with a temporary acting president who promises to restore order and sanity to the governemnt. A crack team of constitutional lawyers and judges start rewriting the criminal and civil code immediately. The victors gather in the White House for celebratory drinks and cigars while they hash out a couple of PR issues. Our hero takes a seat at the elbow of one of his peers, a man whom he likes and trusts as they worked together during the revolution. The table grows quiet, and someone slaps a proposition on the table. "All right," he says, chomping his cigar, "about those goddamn homos...."

A general chatter goes up around the table, where Hollywood Homos are blamed for the stagnant government before, made into scapegoats. They are mostly unarmed, and make a good target for an America eager to lay blame somewhere after the chaos and violence of an armed revolution. Their weakness and decadence is blamed for corrupting the hearts and minds of our politicians, rather than the billions and billions of dollars being pumped into politicians bank accounts by people who want shit. Sometime before the camps are erected, our hero ducks out to start the whole goddamn process over again.

I believe in a free America. But my vision of freedom doesn't include rounding up my family and friends for the crime of getting hot over the wrong set of genitals, and I'll be goddamned if nothing has changed about conservatives. Terrorists are plotting to attack our citizens, debt is spiraling out of control, there's the ever present threat of pandemic, but these stone age fucks are still losing sleep because somewhere out there some guy is sucking cock.

Thus my dilemma. Put simply, I won't be party to hauling off my uncle, several of my good friends, my wife or anyone else off to reeducation camps so they can pray the gay away. I don't really have it in me to run a gay underground railroad, and I sure as hell don't have it in me to fight not one but two wars. But as more and more Conservatives, who haven't changed a bit beneath that fresh coat of constitutional paint, line up behind the 9/12 Tea Party movement with carefully constructed new rhetoric but the same old bullshit, I start to think that I should take a couple steps back from this movement.

Because I love my guns, and I love freedom, but if I have to live in a world without lesbian action to get it, that would basically be like losing. Maybe, you say, I have my priorities wrong. And I'll freely concede that I'm one of the crazy ones. But when it comes to freedom, I'm not gunning for a slice here or a slice there; I want the whole fucking pie, six feet by six feet, and I want two naked twins grappling in it. I don't know how the rest of America may sway, given the circumstances and lies thereof, but as for me-give me cunnilingus or give me death.

Partisan Politics, Gang Rape, and You

Asking a population to choose between Democratic and Republican rule is like deciding which dick is going to rape your mouth and which one is going to rape your asshole.

For too long in this country, we've had to decide between them, swapping one party out of the majority because we are pissed at what they did during their tenure, and voting in the other one that gets down to the sodomy as fast as they can slip on a rubber. We had 8 years of W telling us to be afraid and go along with "a few reasonable security precautions" (Read: Rape) to prevent terrorism, and we, as a nation, got so fed up with it that we voted in the big O, who is now pleading with us to go along with "A few common sense gun restrictions" (Read: Rape) to prevent terrorism. The only "Change" we got was the flavor of terrorist we were being 'protected' from. Big O hasn't repealed the Patriot Act, hasn't gotten the unlawfully detained fucks at Gitmo a fair trial, and hasn't stopped encouraging the Federal Reserve to print off more unbacked currency, hasn't really done anything to make you any more free than you were under the religious right fascist that preceded him-but his supporters are swallowing his load with gleeful fervor anyway, while babbling about how good it tastes compared to the Republican majority that preceded it. Both parties are still cashing their paychecks; both are still benefitting from the system of legalised bribery known as 'campaign contributions' and I bet that if the Republicans win the majority in 2010 they won't do a damned thing to undo any damage done by their predecessors.

Oh, they'll pass some new laws, perhaps even radical new laws. But I'm not interested in a politician that wants to pass laws anymore. I'm thinking its about time to start electing politicians that will repeal the laws that are unconstitutional, unenforcable and ridiculous. Call me a radical, but my asshole is starting to bleed and my jaw hurts like hell and all anybody can think to do is swap them out.

We're being spit roasted, played like a fucking accordion with the Reds pounding our backdoors while the Blues skull fuck our mouths and a partisan media diddles the keys. The only Change we can accomplish this way is making sure the dick raping our mouth tastes like shit.