Archive for hate

God hates you, and me, and that guy over there.

Posted in religion with tags , , , , , , on February 24, 2009 by la tricoteuse

And your mom.  And everyone else.  

In more recent news, God hates Australia! America’s Sweetheart Fred Phelps and company have not allowed their recent Epic Fail (UK Edition) to dampen their spirits one iota. Phelpsypoo has done what any good, red-blooded American cowboy would do. He’s gotten right back up on that bile-puking horse of his and pointed it at greener hotter pastures. Apparently, Australia’s recent outbreak of uncontrollable bush fires is the work of an arsonist: God. Batshit crazy Phelps says the “Land of the Sodomite damned” had it coming, that they’re being punished for being dirty “fag enablers.”

Yawn.

Am I the only person who is beginning to suspect that these loonbunnies are actually a plant? They certainly do more to help our cause than theirs. Even Fox News thinks they’re completely doolally in the brainmeats.

So, really, I think it’s time to say thank you to Fred Phelps, his wackjob crazy-eyed daughter Shirley, and the entire cuckoo congregation of Westboro Baptist Church for inadvertently helping us fight the good fight by being so totally unhinged that they’re almost a more effective and convincing argument against religion than science and reason are.

Almost.

In lieu of a proper introduction

Posted in music with tags , , , , , , on February 20, 2009 by la tricoteuse

Today I have something particular to say to a particular someone, or rather group of someones, with whom I have several bones to pick.  

Dear Oasis,

    You are boring. You are boring and derivative. And boring. Holy christ on a shitsicle, are you ever boring. Even when you’re not trying desperately to be The Beatles (a laughable endeavor in which you will never, ever, ever, ever come close to succeeding), and stealing riffs from T.Rex (only one of a handful of far more innovative, imaginative,and interesting bands to which you will never hold even a burnt and blackened match, much less a candle), your rubbish, swaggering personas are even more boring than your second-rate, mediocre music.  Even Coldplay, boring as they are (and let’s be honest here, they’re pretty fucking boring. Just mentioning their name is nearly enough to put me in a coma for 15 years), are at least inoffensively boring, insofar as being boring is ever inoffensive.  You, Oasis, are boring in such a painful, attention-seeking, OH PLEASE LOOK AT ME I’M IMPORTANT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE, laughably childish, hissy-fit-throwing way that I would be less offended by your existence if you had just gone back in time, ripped off John, Paul, George, and Ringo’s heads, skull-fucked them one by one, and shat in their bleeding neck-holes.  

At least then you’d be doing literally what you and your music have been doing figuratively for more years than I want to think about.  

love,

me

p.s. Marc Bolan told me he’s going to anally penetrate you with your own femurs in the afterlife for stealing the opening riff from “Bang a Gong (Get it on).”   Enjoy!