Can O' Whup-Ass

Hippy-Dippy Hoolay Time! It's China's Duper-Super Webbynet Chat Loom!

Welcome for coming! We are to being happy stuffs because surfy fun-time on webbynet! There is to being people persons in cyber-rand who to saying poopy Google peoples crosing Chinese blowser stuffs. Google peoples to say belligerent stuffs about China censorfun! Google peoples to say China people person do hacky game with frowny bad dissident emails! To this we are to saying "hoo-fligging-boo." Other smelly sad yankee peoples are to saying we plant peoples from lucky good People's Party in chat looms to steer conversations to happy fun plopaganda. That is to being road of cocky-pop!

Glorious China webbynet is to being totarry non-censor stuffs and compretery flee! You are to putting those apples in pipe for smoking! And we to putting our yuan where our face-hole to being!

Herro and welcome dance! Indutrocing the Duper-Super Non-Censor China Webby Net Chat Loom! Laughy fun time!

DUPER-SUPER CHINA WEBBYNET CHAT LOOM

SUBJECT: MR. GAY CHINA

Comment: Hi Chinesey folks, I was watching Meredith Viera leer like a Tuscaloosa whore at that darling Matt Lauer when suddenly I started listening to what she was saying; some oriental homosexuals (horientuals?) were trying to have a beauty pageant but the Chinesy police shut 'em down. That wasn't very nice. Why, my best friend Sally Kerns has a son who's a fairy and he's just as sweet as he can be, bless his heart. He has a way with throw pillows and his room mate Brandon is a darling (I just wish he'd put a shirt on at family functions). I say if the gays want to put on gowns and prance down the runway like Carrie Prejean, where's the harm in it? As long as they can't marry or live next to children, I don't see why we can't treat them as if they were people. Let your horientuals have their cute pageant. Signed, Jeannie Bladdersham aka Jesuslovesferrets

Response: Most honorable Braddersham lady, my name is Frank and I am to living in the not Chinese city of Idaho. I am to make disagreement time. Happy good Chinese police persons do not to making poopy fanny poking humposexuals stopping to have frowny pageant. The humposexuals took the poppers and got lost on their way to the pageant place. Glorious nation of China not to wanting unrucky gay pageant. If all the gays to put on crowns and swimmy suits, social order corrapse! That is to being bad for party! Signed, Flank aka Maopower

SUBJECT: BAIDU SUCKS YAK BUTT

Comment: My name is to being Kum Ming Dong. I to hearing that Google is to make bye-bye time. That make Dong to dripping with cry water. Last time Dong do Google search on "naughty fun boobie girly" Dong sit up straight at two naughty fun boobie girlies who have one cup on YouTube. Those boobie girlies are so so naughty time! But when I go on Baidu for to searching "naughty fun boobie girlies" all I to getting is Chairman Mao poem about a kitty cat. Or if Dong to make Baidu search on "Palis Hirton oopsie hole," I not get naughty movie-show of Palis Hirton, instead I get Chairman Mao recipe for puppy dog chow mein. Baidu is to sucking yak butt. At reast can Baidu make compromise? Let Dong to watch a movie-show called "Two Maos, one cup"? That is to being excerrent idea stuffs. Make wait-time, someone is to doing knocky knock on door. BLB.

Response: You not to make frowny bad naughty time on webbynet any more. You are not to "be light back," because that knocky knock on door was happy good police. You to going to lucky good re-educational camp for to learn silly good cattle prod dance! Welcome for going, poopy face!

SUBJECT: TIBET

Comment: The people of Tibet are suffering under their seventh decade of iron fisted PRC rule and all they want is to be happy and free. They long to celebrate the return of the Dalai Lama, whose long exile is and act of a paranoid, evil and godless government. I suspect Tibet will eventually win its independence and China will eat crow. The PRC is occupied by lying, corrupt dogs.

Response: I edited your comment so it to saying what you really are to meaning. Welcome so much!

***

On a personal note, we're not surprised that COWA's blocked in China. Try searching "Can o' Whup-Ass" on Google. Now try it on Baidu. Nuff said?

Howev, we find it odd that COWA's Sino-file archive has seen a huge increase of hits lately (mostly from China or "Unknown"), and every time we do a search on "China," "censorship," "Google," and we click on a related link in the results, our browser crashes (it doesn't happen with other searches). 

Are we being monitored?

In September, we had the following comment to our post "Lucky Fun China to Wish you Have Duper-Super Year of Rat Earth Day":

"beijing08: I'm not the biggest fan of this post in my opinion."

To which we replied:

"Hi, beijing: In my opinion, you ARE the biggest fan of this post. Let's aglee to disaglee, m'kay?"

So to the Chinese web monitor who we suspect might be leading our brog (is that YOU beijing08?): Welcome for coming!

Beijing08 sez: "I'm not the biggest fan of this brog in my opinion. But WAM begs to differ and told me to subsclibe to this brog's feed."

Uganda, Mon Amour...

In 1994, three Rwandan dudes with annoying names (Jean-Bosco Barayagwiza, Ferdinand Nahimana and Hassan Ngeze), took to the airwaves. Encouraging the use of machetes (in order to save bullets) they called all Tutsis and moderate Hutus "cockroaches." The Rwandans listened. The ensuing hackfest was the efficientest genocide ever; 800,000 slaughtered in 90 days. Evench, the three radio dudes were convicted of inciting crimes against humanity. Flash forward.

Ten months ago, three American dudes with equally annoying names (Scott Lively, Caleb Lee Brundidge and Don Schmierer) decided to go to Uganda, where they got all evangelical at a conference about how the dreaded "gay agenda" was threatening the "Bible-based values of the traditional African family." The Ugandans listened. A month later, the dude who sponsored the conference introduced a bill that calls for the execution of the gays. It's expected to become law soon.

Bitch, Stevie Wonder could see the parallel. 

Think we might have something to say about this? Um, yep.

First, to Africa in general:

Dear Africa,

What exactly crawled up your butt? Aren't you busy enough, what with running from hyenas and ebola monkeys and walking 75 miles to market every day with jugfuls of zebra scrotums on your noggins? Where do you find the time for all your pirating, raping and genociding?

Yadda-yadda-yadda. Fine, we're making xenophobic generalizations. Fine, you have no history of bloody dictatorships.* Fine, you aren't constantly at war with each other. Fine, your children are well-fed. Fine, you don't hack off girls' clitori  because you think it makes them sexy, or steal penises to make ooga-booga stew.

Need we remind you that Africa is the AIDS-iest town in the universe? These days the "traditional African family" you're so hell-bent on protecting from Lance Bass consists of four malaria-infested AIDS orphans crouching in a mud hut eating crickets. Furthermore, if your "straight" men could resist having unprotected buttsex you'd be a lot less AIDS-y. Feel that.

We are unafraid to tell you to your face what the rest of the world has been thinking for ages. Your retarded behavior as a continent grows increasingly tiresome. Shape up or the other six of us are going to vote you off the planet and sell you to Uranus.

xox
WAM

*P.S. We actually have a negro president who isn't a neurotic despot (if the birthers ever needed proof that he wasn't born in Africa, that's it).

Next, to Uganda:

Dear Uganda,

Idi Amin. Milton Obote. The Lord's Resistance Army. You do have a hard-on for violence, don't you?

True, the Bible you revere is also violent; it instructs folks to throw rocks at homos until they're dead, but it instructs us to do the same with sassy children and prostitutes (you know, the women who help you give AIDS to your wives). Moreover, Jesus once told the Philistines (with whom you've got plenty in common) "prostitutes and tax collectors are entering heaven before you," so we would advise against looking to the old testament for ethical guidance.

Howev, thank you for creating the kind of country that our evangelicals are trying to create right here in America. Because since our tedious constitution prevents them from having homos executed, they might very well all decide to move to Uganda. We can only pray.

Furthermore, it's good to know that if white folk come to your country you'll do whatever they say. We'll book our flight tomorrow. We'll be the keynote speaker at our own conference, called "Uganda: go f*ck yourself." Punch and cookies will be served.

Finally, if you really want to protect your Godly families, we might suggest that you stop sacrificing your children.

xox
WAM   

Finally, a note to the Hague:

Hi Hague,

Pssst. Listen, here's the deal. In 2003 your International Criminal Court indicted Uganda's Lord's Resistance Army, who, while trying to force Uganda and the D.R. Congo to live by the Ten Commandments, conveniently exempted themselves from commandments 6 and 7 as they raped and murdered the populace by the thousands.

With that in mind, should Uganda enact its homo-hanging law, we'd be happy to deliver Scott Lively, Caleb Lee Brundidge and Don Schmierer to stand trial for inciting genocide and crimes against humanity. As a matter of fact, seeing as how anti-gay violence is escalating right here at home, we might also deliver Rush Limbaugh, "Dr." Laura Schlessinger and Michael Savage while we're at it. They regularly spew hate on radio just like the Rwanda dudes.

Sure, you probably won't be able to convict them, but we'd be happy to have them out of our country for a while.

Thanks in advance.

xox
WAM

Idi Amin sez: "Hell would be such a dreary place without my subscription to this blog's feed."

SHOCK: Naughty Candy Wrappers Vex Uptight Brits (BONUS: Kung Fu Nun!!)

WEST YORKSHIRE, UK -- When pasty twit Simon Simkins and his long-suffering wife minced into a candy shop to purchase sweets for their unfortunate snaggle-toothed children, he was shocked when he saw the wrappers of Haribo Maoams. One is a disturbing depiction of a lascivious lime having its way with a lemon of easy virtue, while another portrays the same citrus cad gang-banging the cherry twins. Simon Simkins told The Sun that whilst he complained to the shopkeeper, his excitable wife "became quite distressed and had to sit down in the car park."

Monstrous, isn't it? Isn't the world unpleasant enough without candy companies forcing sensitive women to sit down in car parks upon exposure to copulating produce? We believe the Simkins have suffered quite enough, thank you. So we've decided to offer a few words of comfort:

Dearest Mr. and Mrs. Simon Simkins:

It is our sincerest wish that you've recovered from the trauma of being exposed to rude citruses having it off. One suspects your delicate sensibilities remain haunted by the distasteful and confusing questions that linger. First and foremost, what kind of depraved lime would engage in carnal activities with a lemon (who's obviously a godless tart), and then cheat on said lemon whilst contributing to the delinquency of two cherries? Certainly not the sort of lime we'd want our children to suck on.

Furthermore, had you known fruit was capable of such Leviticus-defying debauchery, it's highly unlikely you'd have ordered the Waldorf Salad at yesterday's luncheon. Heavens, we thought that was mayonnaise! 

May Jesus give you strength in your crusade. Stay vigilant, Mr. and Mrs. Simon Simkins; this must be nipped in the bud, and you seem ideally suited to bud-nipping. One cannot allow pornographic sweets packaging to blossom into a trend. We scarcely think upstanding Christian parents want to wake up one day to discover the M&M boys jamming their peanuts in each other's chocolate. One shudders to think of the filthy juxtapositions those randy Three Musketeers could get into. And the thought of Crackerjack pushing Little Debbie's ankles behind her ears while his dog Bingo has a go at her gooey ring-ding, is frankly too much to bear.

Sincerely,
WAM

***

KEIFING, China -- In precarious economic times, it often becomes necessary to consider a career change. Meet one Zhang Tingting, a lovely woman who has delighted the People's Republic for decades by pulling cars with her hair. A Kung Fu expert, she's made a career out of having her braid hitched up to various motor vehicles and pulling them through China's cities like a nightmare one might have about Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer after eating too much mu-shu pork.

Unfortch, there just isn't as much money to be had anymore from being yoked like a yak to heavy machinery and being mushed through the mainland as if there's a two-for-one dogmeat sale at Costco.

So the enchanting Ms. Zhang has shaved her noggin and entered a nunnery. We consider it an astute career move. Had Maria von Trapp learned Kung Fu so she could pull Studebakers through Salzburg by her hair, by the time she'd developed her irritating habit of clothing rich children in calico draperies and forcing them to gallivant across the alps whilst singing show-tunes, we suspect the Nazis would have thought twice about the whole Austria thing.

Mr. and Mrs. Simon Simkins say: "Subscribing to this blog's feed is as wrong as allowing fruits to marry."

Eavesdropper: Bill Clinton and Kim Jong Il

Former President Bill Clinton is currently in Pyongyang, chewing the fat with freshly spray-tanned stroke victim/demigod Kim Jong Il, trying to negotiate the release of a couple employees of his ex-sidekick Al Gore. The two women, reporters writing on the ickiness that is North Korea, are currently gaining valuable first-hand research on that particular topic as they eat dog pie in a re-education gulag. Fortch, one of our burly covert ninja operatives has cleverly disguised himself as 6 year old Korean Girl who handed a listening device concealed in a flower to Clinton and was thus able to record the following conversation:

KIM JONG IL: Welcome for coming!
BILL CLINTON: Yer a funny lookin feller.
KJI: We so so happy time we make big fun stuffs for funny fat Plesidant Crinton!
BC: Yeah, let's move past the formalities and get down to the nitty gritty. I just wolfed down a poodle burger and fries from a fast food joint called Fun-Yum-Pooch and soon I'm gonna hafta take a dump.
KJI: Dokie-okie! Let us to getting down with the glitty nitty stuffs!
BC: I want those two women.
KJI: Oh soldier-boy, you to doing sexy bouncy stuffs with naughty-fun boobie girlies! Which boobie-girlies you wanting to put cigar in now, cowboy?
BC: No, bubba. I want you to release Euna Lee and Laura Ling.
KJI: Who is to being these Euna Ree and Raula Ring boobie girlies?
BC: They're the boobie girlies you convicted of grave slander and sent to a labor camp. 
KJI: Dokie-okie, you can to taking poopy-face frowny sad boobie girlies from laughy fun gulag.
BC: Thanks.
KJI: You can sticking cigar up Ree and Ring's stinky place now, soldier-boy!
BC: Hillary took my cigar. She keeps it in her purse.
KJI: When I to saying cigar I am meaning that thing Mr. Lush Rimbaugh put in his mouth.
BC: A penis?
KJI: Yes, my Engrish is to being sucky. I am to meaning angry mad pants dragon!
BC: We're on the same page, Kimmy-Kim.
KJI: So Hirraly to keeping your angry mad pants dragon in purse-y-purse?
BC: It's for safe keeping.
KJI: Hirraly is poopy frowny bad lady.
BC: Come on, Buddy...you got lots in common with her. You both buy your pants suits off the Dress Barn discount rack.
KJI: KIM JONG IL NOT TO SHOPPING AT DRESS BARN, POOPY-FACE!!
BC: Whatever.
KJI: I TO BUY PANTS SUITS AT THE J.C. PENNEYS PLACE FROM JAQUERINE SMITH CORRECTION!!
BC: Cool your jets, Kimmy. Now if you'll excuse me I really have to pinch a loaf.

Kim Jong Il sez: "You poopy Amelicans to stop subsclibing to this frowny sad brog! I make so so angly mad foot stompy dance!"

A Tale of Two Genies

If you're like us (and you aren't, but you can dream), when you hear the word "genie" you think about Barbara Eden emerging from her over-zealously upholstered bottle-shaped efficiency studio in a blast of pink bong smoke in order to blink all sorts of hilarious things into existence, thereby complicating the life of her nervous master, astronaut JR Ewing.

You remember course, several times Babs Eden had us seeing quadruple when her evil brunette twin (imaginatively named Jeannie II) poofed onto the scene so they could double their shenanigans and jiggle their boobulars in stereo.

And today, the evil brunette Jeannie II seems to have been uncorked. She has re-emerged. And she's up to no damn good.

The gullible citizens of the colorful, malodorous, perpetually flooded nation of Bangladesh have recently been receiving phone calls from a rude entity that claims to be a "genie from the sky," demanding money or terrible things will happen to their families (um...not for nothing, but presumably their families already live in Bangladesh, how much worse can things really get?).

One wonders how retarded a person must be to buy such an unlikely story. After all, were we a genie from the sky (and after our third shot of tequila we often are), we like to think we'd choose to emerge from a Mr. Coffee or a hip flask for maximum effect, rather than dragging a wireless carrier into it. On the other hand, sometimes the Jehovah's Witnesses ring our doorbell, trying to convince us to drink their Kool-Aid and give them cash on behalf of their very own sky-genie, so this particular brand of idiocy isn't exclusive to Bangladesh.

Meanwhile, the multi-tasking Jeannie II has been tormenting an unfortunate family in the dazzling mecca of Mahd Al Dahab Saudi Arabia. She's calling them names and ridiculing their fashion sense, tossing things about and spitting in their baba-ghanoush. So the family's irate patriarch has decided to grab Jeannie II by her brunette weave and haul her into the notoriously practical Saudi court system. This will likely result in Barbara Eden being dragged to a public square and flogged for her Genie-osity (and for gallivanting about in a midriff-revealing harem outfit).

On a side note, as we learned from her confirmation hearings yesterday, wise latina Sonya Sotomayor is alarmingly familiar with the use of nunchucks, the lethal weapon of choice for discerning ninjas. Were the mischievous Jeannie II to appear before the Supreme Court nominee's bench, So-So's likely to get all Chuck Norris on her ass and conk Jeannie II back into re-runs. 

xox
WAM

Jeannie sez: "My master made me blink him a subscription to this blog's feed."

OMG! MICHAEL JACKSON!! (and other stories)

As the King of Pop was transported to Roswell for his autopsy, the world has gone briefly bonkers. Flash mob mourners, Texans conducting sing-a-longs of "Blame it on the Boogie" at the Alamo, Al Sharpton moonwalking in front of The Apollo, and pederasts everywhere are flying their pants at half-mast. (sound of crickets chirping) Too soon?

Ahem. Even on Capitol Hill, congress found the time between bickering and being rusty-tromboned by lobbyists to have a moment of silence for the dude. Where was Farrah's moment of silence? She was an icon too and managed to do it without being the least bit molest-y.

We digress. In the last 24 hours, as humanity witnessed itself pantomiming "The Day the Earth Stood Still" in reverse (about a spaceman leaving our planet), and while boomboxes blaring "Thriller" drown out/outnumber the voices of dwindling Iranian protests, some...um...other stuff was going down.

NORTH KOREA staged one of their cute hootenannies during which they poutily declared that America is "asking for the calamitous situation of having a fire shower of nuclear retaliation" rain down upon us (goodness, that'll teach us to ask for calamitous situations!). Then they all goose-stepped to a lovely labrador barbecue.

THOSE HILARIOUS SOMALIANS held a lil' hoe-down of their own, during which Islamists dragged four young men (each declared guilty of robbery, each screaming their innocence) into the public square, whereupon the godly types macheted a hand and a foot from each before a rabid crowd of amputation fetishists. The fresh amputees now look forward to being fitted with their peg-legs and hook-hands as they prepare for their new careers in the pirate industry. 

IN DAZZLING DOWNTOWN SADDER-CITY a thoughtful Sunni delivered a lovely Congrats-For-No-Longer-Being-Occupied-by-American-Forces Gift: a shrapnel-riffic bouquet of explosives that took the lives of 70 less-than-grateful Shiites.

THE LOVELY MS. AYATOLLAH AHMAD KAHTAMI pushed to reward arrested Iranian protesters with neckties made of rope; not to be outdone, swarthy matinee idol Mahmoud Ahmedinejad chastised Obama for being a buttinsky, thereby positioning himself as a Democrat (seeing as how Republicans have chastised Barack for not being sufficiently buttinksy-esque). 

RWANDANS, apparently wistful for genocide past, are skipping down memory lane by getting themselves slaughtered anew in the jungles of the Democratic Republic of Congo. 

THE CHARMING FOLKS OF KENYA held a good old-fashioned witch burning, during which a reporter for the BBC witnessed five elderly folks being tossed on a fire and burned alive for rudely causing a little boy (a diagnosed epileptic) to have a fit.

W00T!! I DID IT AGAIN: A GAMER SITTING IN A CAVE AT NORAD got all upset and stuff when the words "GAME OVER" flashed on his screen after the drone he was controlling accidentally missed his target 8,500 miles away in South Waziristan, and instead got a little killy with 65 folks who had the bad taste to attend a funeral.

But really, who cares about that stuff?

Sing along now: "It's true we'll make a better world, just you and me..."

xox
WAM

Tito sez: "Michael would have wanted his fans to subscribe to this blog's feed."

The History of the World, in 140 Characters

Twitter, that ubiquitous stupid-pill that reduces discourse to half-sentences and has somehow convinced over a million users that Ashton Kutcher is interesting, has emerged as an unlikely weapon in recent days. The efforts of Iran's Mullahs to jam communications and expel reporters (when their hands aren't tied with the complicated business of gunning down its citizens and then taxing the victims' families for the bullets), have been impotent. Armies of citizen journalists have twitted events with admirable tenacity and frightening efficiency. If CNN emerged as the star of Desert Storm, Twitter has totally pwn'd mainstream media this go-around. Indeed, Twitter is dangerous.

For while one must admire its ability to provide multiplied P.O.V.'s on a given event (Rashomon times one million), one must also be terrified of any technology that enables Britney Spears to share her every thought with you. But more to the point, massive tomes have been written about historical events; eloquent theories of cause and effect, meticulous and scholarly reconstructions of the "whens" "whats" "whos" and "whys." One can't help but wonder how tomorrow's history will render the present. Furthermore, one wonders how human history would look today had Twitter been available since the beginning.  

THE BURNING OF ROME
NERO: "OMG, u guys! I just learned how to play 'Smoke on the Water' on my violin!"

THE RISE AND FALL OF THE THIRD REICH
EVA BRAUN: "AH is being a total A-H. So I put some cyanide in his Tic-tacs!! LOL!

THE SINKING OF THE TITANIC
MOLLY BROWN: "Who's a girl gotta f*ck to get some ice in her drink? Oops, Nevermind." 

THE ASSASSINATION OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN
MARY TODD: "This play bites. Bo-ring! I just wish something would happen. Um, BRB."

THE DEATH OF CLEOPATRA
MARK ANTHONY: "Dude, she totally misheard me. I told her she could kiss my ASS, with an 'S'!"

THE DONNER PARTY TRAGEDY
MRS. DONNER: "It's cold here and stuff but I got the coolest recipe for foot meat burritos!"

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION
MARIE ANTOINETTE: "Off to get hairdo did. Just having them take a little off the top. TTYL!"

THE TRIAL OF LIZZIE BORDEN
LIZZIE: "Can't go to mall tonight, there's somethin I gots to axe my parents."

Please dear ass-whuppers, submit your own historical tweets!

Ayatollah Khamenei sez: "I would rather eat a pork chop on Ramadan than subscribe to this blog's feed!"

A Few Choice Words for Prudential (or, Smoke 'em if ya got 'em!)

Saint Obama staked his candidacy, in large part, on fixing health care. Naysayers (read: Republicans) have been stoking fears (and fellating campaign contributors) by running hysterical million-dollar ads depicting the bureaucratic hell in which citizens of single-payer nations wallow.

Picture a grief-stricken woman holding a tear-stained photo of a decrepit old biddy. "Mummy waited 47 years to have her gall stones removed. Now she's dead!" (cue sentimental piano music).

Nevermind that this, the wealthiest nation on earth, is chock full of parents who forgo taking their children to a doctor so they can afford food. Also nevermind that Obama never proposed a single-payer system. But whatever.

We can toss one coin the Republican's way: tort reform is a must. If a woman goes in for a boob job and emerges from the ER with a hysterectomy, she should be able to sue. But not for a hundred million bucks; it really shouldn't be the best thing that ever happened to her. However, this is a drop in the bucket compared with the profiteering going on in the insurance racket (an industry, by the way, with oodles of salivating lackeys leashed in like hounds on K Street). Health care reform will be a tough one to pass, no ifs ands or buts.

Speaking of butts (and you KNOW how we like to speak of butts), one bit of legislation that's due to sail through Congress this week is the Tobacco Regulation Bill. Wanna guess who's against it (aside from Congressmen from Kentucky)? Yep, the insurance industry. Care to take a stab at why? It's simple: the largest insurers in this country have invested billions in tobacco. Prudential, in fact, has a whopping $264.3 million invested in cancer sticks.

As you might imagine, we have a few things to say about that.

Dear Prudential (and Allstate, Sun Life, et al):

For all your flowery language about how your products provide "peace of mind," we'd like to give you a piece of ours.

We started smoking at 18. It made us devastatingly hip, natch, and we looked too cool 4 school with a Marlboro parked in our kisser. Teenagers, of course, are hard-wired to rebel. We knew it was "bad." That was okay, like Sandy in Grease, we wanted to be "bad." We were also 18, and as you know all 18-year-olds are immortal. But yes, when we purchased that first pack of lung candy, it was our choice.

It was also our choice when, twenty years later (wheezing from a flight of stairs), we embarked on that long, torturous odyssey of quitting. We recall feeling as if a million spiders were trying to eat their way out of our skin, swearing under our labored breath that we'd sell our mother to Qaddafi for a puff. Patches, gum, hypnosis, acupuncture. Of course we started again. We quit again. Start-quit-start-quit. Now, at 45, we've been tobacco-free (with the exception of one or two bummed smokes) for three years. It's pitiful, but quitting is one of our proudest achievements.

So now, should we decide to "Get a Piece of the Rock" or entrust ourselves to the "Good Hands People" and buy, say, health coverage, or life insurance, or an annuity, or long-term care from a corporation that professes its dedication to our well-being, we're also supporting an industry that tried to (and might still) kill us. We wonder why.

Could it be that if we buy an annuity or long term care and die of lung-rot at 62, you'll save a buttload of cash? Could it be that smokers can only buy personal health insurance at a prince's ransom? Could it be that life insurance premiums for smokers are exponentially higher than for non-smokers? Ker-ching!

Like Phillip Morris, you want us to smoke. But at least the tobacco industry would likely prefer its customers to live longer so they could smoke more. You, on the other hand, are deeply vested in your customers' early demise. So unless you unload your stock in emphysema futures and bequeath it to a free clinic (like, maybe one of scores recently shuttered due to budget constraints), there's only one thing left to say:

You are vile.

xox
WAM

Pru sez: "Get a piece of this blog! Subscribe to its feed today!"

Foxy News Channel: Kim Jong Illin'

Somebody gimme a HO-oh! Sup punks? Woo! It be three f*ckin monfs since Foxy lay some newz shizzle on yo azz! Firs, a ho had to par-TAY cause it be a whole year since Foxy git her azz sprung from Rikers. Feel dat, suckaz. It seem like only yessadee a sistah get her azz bustid for bouncin her blackberry off da noggin of some sassy ho. So last monf Foxy git on her cell an' call up the bitches who still in da joint. I say wassup to Big Betty, she da correckshinz officer who bus' a sistaz noggin cuz her boy smuggle in some treez up his poo hole. Then I holla at dat fat bitch wif da lazy eye from Cellblock D who gots razor blades in her weave. Foxy used to fist dat ho's stank-azz muff ev'ry toozday fo a pack o' bajinya slims, yo. Now dat bitch gots another ho punchin her queefbox. She finkin Foxy replacable? F*ck dat. Foxy fro dat sh*t. Respeck. 

On da self improobmint tip, a ho finish dat triflin' book call "Anne-bitch o' Green-azz Gables." It be all 'bout some ginger orphan bitch who get her azz sold off to Nervous-Kosher, which be a country in Alaksa where they put all da jewfolk. It be kosher, but they all nervous an sh*t. Now Foxy be checkin out a book call "Little-azz Crib on da M*therf*ckin Prarie," which seem to be all 'bout some gay-azz cracka family who all homeless and shizzle so they go on a campin trip to Kansas or sumpin. Foxy hopin it git good, like maybe some injun punk take a tamahawk to Half-pint and show dat uppity ho wassup.

On this espizode of da Foxy News Channel, a ho be in da boogie-down Pyongyang to do da innavoo wif some punk-azz bitch call Kimz Dongz Li'l. Check it, mo-fos.

FOXY BROWN: Somebody gimme a HO-oh! Feel dis, punks. Foxy chillaxin in some stank azz hood call Pyongyang, spittin rhymez wif Kimz Dongz Li'l. Respeck.
KIM JONG IL: Welcome for coming, neglo boobie girlie.
FB: Chile, whatchoo got on? Wassup wif those Jackie-O shades and that country-azz Little Richard weave?
KJI: I am being what Prince is to calling a sexy f*cking your m*ther.
FB: Foxy thought she gonna rap wif Li'l Kim. I be finkin she change her name to Kimz Dongz Li'l. I ain't suprized dat ho gotz a li'l dong. Whoop!
KJI: I am not to being Little Kim!
FB: True dat, foo. But you both smell like dog food, yo.
KJI: I am to being Big Kim!
FB: Punk, don't front a bitch. Take off those tired platforms and you smaller than a oompa-loompa.
KJI: You are to having happy fun bah-donkey-kong fanny.
FB: Chill, mo-fo. A ho tryin to lay some queshinz on yo azz.
KJI: Dokie-okie, then you are to laying those shizzle-stuffs on a brother person.
FB: How come Korean manicurisist hos f*ck up a sistah's tips? Last time Foxy get her nails did she gots to bus' some Kung Fu shiznit on they azz.
KJI: You no make poopy talk about sexy happy Korean girlie peoples!
FB: It jus' a queshin, bitch. Don't pitch a fit, yo. Nex queshin: how come you gots those whatchoo call new-color bombs but yo pitiful peeps be starvin so bad thay gots to eat pooch-burgers?
KJI: You to stop saying frowny fibby stuffs! Korean peoples are not to making starvy time! I make stompy dance and send pow-bombs to make poopy sad America esprode!
FB: Queen, please. You build your planes out of cardboard and yo stank-azz army carry heat made by Hasbro. Our posse like to slap da pu-pu outa your family's seoul.
KJI: You not to sassing me, boobie girlie! I am to being Dear Leader! I make so-so angry mad time!
FB: Sit yo azz down, mo-fo. A lady was fixin to give you a case of Campbell's Cream of Chihuahua soup.
KJI: Oh. Dokie-okie. Are you also to letting Kim Jong Il to putting finger in your stinky place?
FB: Bitch keep dat li'l dong-missile in your pants silo! This innavoo be triflin! Foxy outa here!
KJI: Welcome for going, sexy Brown boobie-girlie!

Kim Jong Il sez: "If I not to getting subscliption to this brog's feed, I to send pow-bombs to stinky USA place!"

Dispatch from Pyongyang: North Korea to Being So So Happy-Face About Duper-Super Not-a-Dud Locket Raunch!!

*** FOR IMMEDIATE LEREASE ***

Herro and welcome for coming! We in glorious DPRK make shouty happy down-and-up jumpy dance! We shoot duper-super not-a-dud missile saterrite locket into space! What you do now, frowny sad yankee peoples? Ha!

You make crybaby poopy pants now, Mister stinky-bad negro Amelican Plesident Black Obama! Too bad for you! Oh, now you make stompy foot mad stuffs to NATO lady menz? You poundy fist on table time? It sucks to being you!! Smiley face!

Now we beneath-stand that there are to being smelly mean people-persons who are to berrigerentry saying that our duper-super locket raunch make splashy dance in ocean place. You not to fib so much! We are meaning to do that stuffs! It is just so happening that we are wanting saterrite in ocean. So you are to putting that thing in pipe hole for to smoking!

So now that you are to seeing that we are to having the capabirity to raunch pow-bombs for to making USA exprody place, you are to giving yummy good food stuffs to happy laughy non-starvy North Korea people-persons. And we are to only saying this one times: YOU ARE TO STOPPING TO BLOCK DEAR LEADER KIM JONG IL'S ITUNE ACCOUNT! WE MAKE STOMPY MAD DANCE ON THAT STUFFS! DEAR LEADER KIM JONG IL IS TO WANTING TO DOWNLOAD MORE MISS PETULA CLARK DOWNTOWN MUSIC!!! WHEN YOU'RE ARONE AND RIFE IS MAKING YOU RONERY YOU CAN ALWAYS TO GOING DOWNTOWN!

Dear Leader is really really really to liking that song. He is to making us risten to it day and night times.  

So in concrusion, you are to send non-dogmeat food stuffs to non-starvy North Korea peoples and to letting Dear Leader new Petula Clark-lady sing music or we to raunch more non-dud locket at poopy bad USA place. Dokie-okie?

How are you to riking them apple stuffs?

Dear Leader Kim Jong Il is to riking his subscription to this blog's feed almost as much as Petula Clark Downtown Song! Smiley Face!