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Thursday, August 10, 2006

Things Zombie Hates Thursday, With Special Guest El Bastardo

Here comes the pain!

1.) Idiots on p2p thingies what keep around fucked up mp3s.

You know how you're buzzing happily along, downloading some music, la la, and you finally get a song you've been wanting for a while and then you play it and...pfft? It skips or makes a weird noise and basically ruins the song?

Yeah, I hate that.

But what I hate more is that people keep these messed up files and spread them around to others. You will search for a song and see that 500 people have it, and you download it, and it's messed up.

That means there are 500 people out there, clutching a ruined file for no apparent reason. Perhaps they like the skipping? Or the weird *skriiik* sound a CD makes when it skips? Perhaps this soothes them? I do not know why they do this.

All I know is that I hate it.

If you are one of those people, one of those people what keeps the file that's all screwed up, please stop doing that. Because every time I download something that I'm looking forward to having and it's messed up, I get pissed. Really pissed. Like, if I knew where you lived, I'd come over to your house and fix your little red wagon pissed.

I won't get into what fixing your little red wagon would entail, because some things are better left to the imagination. Just know that it would probably be painfully humiliating for you and definitely make me feel better.

That is all. Thanks!

2.) All You People That Block Aisles at the Store

Today, I went to the Mart of Wal to acquire Food of Dog. Or Food for Dog, rather, as I don't think kibble is made of dogs, just meant to feed them. And feed my kids sometimes, too, when I'm too lazy to heat up the Dogs of Hot and Cheese of Mac. Or pour the bowls of Charms of Lucky or Pops of Corn.

The local Mart of Wal is a magical land of wonder and mystery, where anything at all might happen. On any given day, you will see all manner of white trash and ghetto fabulous attire, including, but not limited to: tiny shorts on impossibly wide asses, shirts featuring Winnie the Pooh on grown women, sweatshirts featuring cats or dogs, Harley Davidson Couture, weaves in impossibly strange colors that are arranged in laws of physics defying sculptures, stained wife beaters, jeans big enough to fit 900 people into, and, of course, sports bras worn as if they were shirts.

This is generally amusing, and hey, the Mart of Wal has low prices, always, so I sometimes shop there. I know about the prices because the bouncing yellow face thing on the TV screen told me. Always heed the words of the bouncing yellow face. It controls you.

Anyway, today at the Mart of Wal, there was an epidemic. A pandemic, almost. Of retards leaving their carts situated in such a manner that they entirely block the aisles so you can't get through.

I hate that. Don't leave your cart at the gateway to Aisle 9 (Housewares) while you run to the other side of the store (Menswear) to grab something. Take the cart with you.

And if you have done that, don't get pissy with me because I happen to move your cart so I can get around it, just as you are returning from Darkest Borneo bearing 7 dollar t-shirts in size XXXXXL.

Do not give me dirty looks and leap to your cart to save it. I am not going to take anything out of your cart. I do not want your 20 packages of Little Debbies or your laundry detergent or your condoms (though thank you for not breeding!) or your cat sweatshirt or your Winnie the Pooh overalls or your Garth Brooks boxed set.

I just want to get to where I need to get without your Cornucopia of White Trash blocking my way.

Also, please wash your hair.


3.) The Utter Lack of Tastykakes in the Sad State of Michigan

Talking about the local Mart of Wal just reminded me of something. Once, many moons ago, in the snack aisle of the Mart of Wal, I spied the Holy Grail of Snack Cakes.

Yes, there on the top shelf were boxes upon lovely boxes of products from the Greatest Snack Food Line of All Time: the Tastykake.

There were Kandykakes and Peanut Butter Krimpets. I immediately was rendered blind with happiness, as I hadn't had a Tastykake since I left Pennsylvania and often felt the lack of Tastykake in my life like a painful thorn in my side.

But there! There were the Tastykakes!

I grabbed some and ran home and ate them all right away.

But you know what happened after that most glorious of days? The Mart of Wal stopped carrying them just as I found out that they did carry them. Of course. And thus, my dreams and hopes crumbled into so much dust and I turned into the bitter, disillusioned wretch that you see today.

Thanks a lot, Mart of Wal. And though I hate to say anything bad about the Tastykake, as the Tastykake is like, cosmic in its awesomeness, I really insist that they start making more stores in Michigan carry the Kandykakes. Just for me. Thank you.


And now for El Bastardo's bit this week, entitled El Bastardo's Love of Jesus:

At one point in my life, I was very religious. I mean, we are not talking your typical "I go to church 5 times a week and I have a shrine for the Pope and 20 of my favorite saints" here. I am talking like...uber-religious. So religious that my constant companions were chronic guilt and a need to impose my will on others 24/7 (yes, I was clearly Catholic).

Nowadays, though, you could say I am the antithesis of that. A sort of anti-matter-religious-guy.

And we are not talking just "Wow, Christians are dumb because they cannot think for themselves and blah blah..."

I am talking, I depise it.

With every fiber of my being.

And I am sure you are asking, "But EB, how can you despise others' beliefs so much?"

Well, boys and girls, gather around the fire and let me tell you a story....and, no. A man named Jed is not involved.

No, the real reason I despise all things religious and the sheep-like minions who drool over it like pedophiles at a Boy Scout Jamboree (notice the Catholic reference here again)...

I despise it so much do I put this delicately...

I was once those slobbering idiots.

Yes, yes. I know.

"How could you be so dumb?"

Umm, the love of Jesus?

I do not know!! Okay?!?

No, really, I do know.

People who succumb to religion, and the drug-like coma that it creates, are looking to fulfill a need.

A perceived need, really.

The fat old hag that says that her husband left her becase there is evil in this world, that Satan causes bad things to her, I say "Umm...the reason he left you was not Satan. Hell! All you need to do is just sit on Satan and that will be that. He left you because he got tired of the extra pork chops and the rack of lamb you carried in your purse. He left you because, well, every time you wanted to get on top, his penis shrank up into him like a horribly terrified Whack-a-Mole, you fucking cow!!"

Okay, sorry, I digress.



Where was I?

Oh yes!

Religion really is the opiate of the masses.

Like every shaking crank lover dying for their next fix, self-loathing fuckwits who have the IQ of moleshit come running to churches, mosques, etc, falling all over themselves.

It is like watching a wheelchair pile-up at a retard convention.

And, yes, sadly enough...I was one of them.

So, this is why I hate religion:

Not because it is the number one cause of war, bigotry and hate in this world.

Nor because it has held man back for hundreds of years. (please see: Dark Ages, the)

No, I hate it because I was once one of these drooling fuckwits. And every time I see some retard genuflect, bow, or say "I will pray for you," I shall relieve my stress with an Uzi and a Mass letting out on Sunday.

So remember, boys and girls, the next time you hear some babbling mongoloid opine about how Jesus saved them from a life of whoring and drinking and drug use, ask them one simple question..

"Are you still having fun?"



link | posted by Zombie at 6:31 PM |


Anonymous Hunter commented at 10:19 PM~  

I miss the Tastykakes, and the Middleswarth. I think I saw some Kandykakes once in a RiteAid near here, but I can't be sure. It may've just been wishful thinking, or perhaps someone left a package of them there in trade for some godawful Dollar Hollow Bunny of Horrid Easter Waxiness.

I told that they should carry Tastykake and Middleswarth in their grocery thing, but I doubt it'll ever happen. That would be too good.

Anonymous cynlee commented at 7:45 AM~  

Target. Target. Target.

It's quieter. The isles seem bigger. It's quieter.

Wal-mart is just a way of keeping us white chicks down.


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