January 08, 2009
I am certainly relieved that the Vatican has taken the initiative and attacked the insidious threat to the world environment posed by women who take birth control pills.The Holy See has established what I suspected all along, that the pill changes women’s hormones and creates deadly, poisonous urine which erodes coral formations in the oceans, poisons fish, degrades soil, creates mutations in plants and animals and is ultimately responsible for causing genetic malformations and physiological distortions in the reproductive process. I have for a long time suspected that people have been getting stupider and stupider, and now I know the reason: poison peepee.Even before the pill was invented the vagina was a dangerous place. Most men are terrified of it. I know I am. The vagina is a mysterious black pit of terror surrounded by hair and, like the fable of Orpheus and Eurydice in the Underworld, “Abandon All Hope, Those Who Enter Here!”Oh, it’s scaaaary! Millions of men throughout history have perished after coming into contact with it. And when the vagina gets out of control, it can wreak havoc on human civilizations. The Arabs fear it so much that they can’t even bear the thought of it. Many men condemn themselves to a lifetime of embracing other men’s stinking butts for fear of coming into contact with a snarling, leering vagina.And now a new menace has emerged, contaminated radioactive peepee gushing forth from the pussy like a steaming, raging geyser from hell, destroying everything in its path like a boiling cauldron of death and destruction. Oh, the horror! Contaminated peepee, causing the oceans to overflow, creating a greenhouse effect which breaks off huge chunks of the polar icecaps, destroying families of polar bears. Changing climatic patterns and creating devastating Tsunami waves that engulf whole continents. Driving people insane and making them kill each other.According to the National Geological Service, the women of the world create each day enough poison peepee to fill Lake Titicaca in the Andes mountains of South America. The runoff from this is enough to destroy a geographic terrain the area of the Sahara Desert every six months. If you want to imagine the effect of women’s poison peepee, look what the dogs do to the trees on East 86th Street and then multiply that by five thousand million every day.Strangely enough, men’s peepee has a benefical effect on the environment. That’s because it is 99% derived from beer, which is malt and hops, with the extra added nutrition of pepperoni pizza and Hooters chicken wings.An equally insidious by-product of this mad, headlong surge into reproductive technology is the male condom which, as the Vatican newspaper L’Osservatore observed, is depleting the rubber plantations of Malaysia, but whose true danger is the tendency of women who are blowing their boyfriends to suck too hard and swallow the thing, choking themselves to death. Did you ever stop to consider why there is not one single, solitary sane female person in the entire world? That is because the pussy is driving them crazy. There is more traffic going on down there than Times Square at rush hour, with dicks going in and out, sperm, blood, contaminated peepee – not to mention babies popping out. If men’s butts were subjected to that kind of punishing activity, we’d be nuts too! But who will save humanity from this deadly torrent of destruction that threatens to engulf us? Only the Catholic Church and Pope Benedict have had the courage to stand up against the tyranny of the radioactive vagina. The pope, like a crusader of olden times, stands vigilant, like a crusader, shield in hand to staunch the flow of poison peepee that threatens to engulf the world. Right on, baby! These broads have always driven us nuts from both ends. They never shut up enough long enough to watch the game, and now their vaginas, which were the only thing we ever liked about them in the first place, have turned into an environmental 9/11, and only Pope Benedict is willing to step up and, like the little Dutch boy, put his finger in the dike.As for me, I have noticed a distinct change in the vagina over the last few years. It don’t taste as sweet as it used to. I think I’m going to give the young girls a rest and find me an old doll who don’t take the pill no more.
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Posted on 1/8/2009
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January 04, 2009
WARNING! THIS STORY CONTAINS MORALLY REPUGNANT REFERENCES TO DRUG TAKING, ORAL SEX, VOODOO, ZOMBIES, DESECRATION OF DEAD CORPSES AND A CHINESE CONSPIRACY FOR WORLD DOMINATION. IT IS NOT INTENDED FOR ANYBODY WHO HAS EVEN A SHRED OF MORAL DECENCY.
TO ALL OTHERS, I BID YOU WELCOME.“Sometimes, when this old world is getting me down and people are just too much for me to take, I don’t go Up On The Roof. I head Downtown to Chinatown, to Madame Poon Tang’s Opium Parlour and Whorehouse, upstairs from the Celestial Lotus Acupuncture Clinic on Mott Street, where, for a couple hundred devalued smackers, you can smoke a pipe full of dope and have a Chinese hooker sit on your face for half an hour, a poor man’s trip to China. Particularly if the girl hasn’t bathed for a while, then the odor from her box is vaguely reminiscent of the sea breeze wafting onto the Shanghai waterfront at dawn.Sometimes it’s hard to breathe with her butt pressing down on your face and all the hair in your mouth, but with the opium playing tricks on your mind, it’s possible to imagine yourself taking a Magical Mystery Tour up the uterine canal to the womb and experiencing a mystical rebirth into a pure spiritual world of universal consciousness.On this occasion, however, my reveries were disturbed by a conversation taking place in the next cubicle, which was only separated from mine by a thin plywood partition. The conversation was taking place in Mandarin. But as it happens, I am passably conversant in that dialect as a result of one of my previous jobs, when I worked as a buyer for a large discount chain. One of my duties was to convince American manufacturers to move their production facilities to China, in return for bribes from the Chinese government as part of a company campaign to denude this country of its manufacturing base. Hey, money’s money, right?Anyway, pinned under the girl’s butt I was a captive audience to a conference call from Beijing to a couple of Chinese operatives working in New York.“How’s the operation going?” asked the disembodied voice over the speaker phone.“It’s going perfect. Nobody even knows we’re here. The Americans are only preoccupied with the Knicks losing all their games and Brett Favre’s MRI results.”“Everybody here at home is real proud of the job you guys are doing in disrupting the American economy and destroying Wall Street. When we take over the world you guys are going to be rich beyond your wildest dreams, not to mention having all the virgins you want and a lifetime supply of counterfeit Viagra.”“I certainly hope so, considering the moral anguish I’m going through and the offense to my ancestors from working around those putrid, stinking corpses all day long. It’s repugnant! I hope the bosses in China are keeping their promise to have priests pray for me so that my ancestors will forgive me for working around a bunch of corpses with their skin stripped off them and encased in plastic, with crowds of sightseers gawking at them all day like a bunch of geeks.”“Yeah, but look at all the good you’re doing in destroying American imperialism. Try to look beyond your own discomfort. The curse we’re inflicting on the American economy will bring them to their knees, and China will once again rule the world.”“Well, since you put it that way…”“Exactly!”Now, even in my doped-up state I realized that I had stumbled onto a critical situation that required my full attention. Summoning all of my strength, I threw the girl off my face and pressed my ear to the plywood wall.Picking herself off the floor, she became loudly indignant, screaming “I have splinter in my butt! What the matter with you, scumbag?” Two tough-looking guys appeared in the cubicle, one wielding a meat axe and the other holding a Chinese-made Louisville Slugger baseball bat. “You no throw our girls around! These girls expensive. All the way from China.” They threw my clothes at me. “You leave now and no come back. Leave now!”“At least let me get dressed.”“Get dressed outside. Go now!”I found myself in the filthy stairwell, stark naked. As I put my clothes on, I realized my wallet was missing. “Typical,” I thought. Rummaging through my pockets I came up with enough change to make bus fare for the trip uptown.When I got to the bus stop, I was confronted with a poster for the “Bodies” exhibit at the South Street Seaport. The picture was of a corpse with all its skin stripped off it, posed with a tennis racket in its hand. All the muscles and tendons were dyed a garish shade of red. “Ugh,” I thought, “this must be what those guys were talking about during the conference call.” But I couldn’t figure how this gruesome freak show could be any more than a monstrous racket to rake in a few bucks.Since I didn’t have anything better to do with my time, I decided to take a walk down to the South Street Seaport and investigate for myself. The “Bodies” exhibit is located one block from the seaport, where Fulton Street meets Water Street, just a stone’s throw from the Wall Street financial district. In fact, it’s just one block from the AIG building.Since my wallet had been stolen at the whorehouse, I didn’t have any money to pay the admission fee. As I stood in the cobblestone pedestrian mall, I almost got run over by a Chinese food deliveryman on a bicycle. He screamed at me, “Why you no look where you’re standing!”I asked him, “Did you ever go in this place?”“Chinese people don’t go in there.”“Why not?”“It’s bad luck. Everybody knows that. Only stupid white people would go in a place like that.” He coughed up a big wad of phlegm and spit on the sidewalk in front of the entrance, “Ptooey!” and said to me “Bad feng shui”, before riding away on his bike.Feng shui is the Chinese concept of good or bad juxtaposition of physical and spiritual phenomena on human intercourse. The way your furniture is arranged or the direction your windows face can have a corresponding influence on your luck or behavior.Let me give the reader an example of how bad feng shui can influence human behavior. I once had an employer who was a bit of a crook and a gangster, but he by and large behaved decently toward me. But on the day of Hurricane Katrina, which was a bad luck day by anybody’s reckoning, the hot, humid southerly wind from the south disrupted our psychology and caused him to try to abuse me, and me to be particularly nasty in my response. We had a violent argument of such intensity that I walked out on him, and we never spoke to each other again.Now, as it turns out, the corpses on display at the “Bodies” exhibit have been revealed to be the bodies of prisoners from the Chinese prison system. How or why they died is not documented, but the reverse side of elegant Chinese classical culture is an unbelievable savagery and torture that is acknowledged throughout the world, and if these poor souls came to be on the bad side of things there is no telling how they met their demise. The bodies were skinned (hopefully after they had passed away, but who knows?), contorted into disagreeable positions and then laminated into grotesque statues. Anybody familiar with the Chinese reverence for the dignity of deceased persons or their ancestors can only marvel at the stomach-churning processes they subjected these corpses to. One thing is for sure, no Chinese government would permit an exhibit like this to be mounted in any Chinese city, and certainly not practically in the middle of a financial district, the ugliness of the psychic effect being just unspeakable.I know an ethnic Chinese guy from Malaysia. He has never been to China, but he is of Chinese ancestry, the same as an Irish-American who has never been to Ireland, but who has a residual bit of Irish culture derived from his heritage. This is what the guy told me about the “Bodies” exhibit: “It’s a filthy thing. Like garbage or filthy, stinking fish heads. If you wanted to come to my house with that shit, you wouldn’t be welcome.”So, why is this disgusting mess being allowed to exist practically right in the middle of our financial district? Isn’t it possible that the bad environmental feng shui is disrupting the spiritual balance of our bankers and financiers and causing them to behave in irrational and destructive ways? One block away is the AIG building, where $140 billion has already been lost through abject stupidity. Five minutes’ walk away from this is Wall Street, which is a black hole to the tune of another $750 billions.Maybe the part of the story about the opium den is just the result of some bad date rape drugs that were slipped to me by a desperate woman, but paranormal phenomena have been employed by the CIA and the Soviet KGB for many decades, and perhaps the Chinese intelligence services have come up with a really cost-effective paranormal solution for bringing the whole capitalist system to its knees by planting noxious garbage right in the middle of our financial system and harnessing evil spirits.Whatever it is, we don’t need the bad luck. Mayor Bloomberg may be an astute businessman, but he does not strike me as a meditative or reflective person or a student of ancient cultures, and he has been derelict in his duty for not recognizing the disruptive psychic phenomena that is eating away at our behavior by allowing this abomination to exist in our midst like a cancer. “Bodies” should be closed immediately and the physical premises should be exorcised by Buddhist priests. And those monstrous bus shelter posters should be burned.
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Posted on 1/4/2009
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