GOOD NEWS!

Um, no.  Actually no fucking good news at all.  To be honest, what I got doesn't even qualify as "news" in any way, shape or form.  I was taking Scout out for his morning dump today when we were approached by two lovely and pleasant African American ladies.  We wished them good day and they reciprocated.  Then the most handsome of the two asked if I would like some good news?  Well obviously I want some good news.  Sign me the fuck up Senora.  My mind was spinning at the possibilities.  Did they just bake some kick assed cookies and were handing them out?  Did one of them just win the lottery?  Was my neighborhood being rezoned as a giant sports bar and chicken wing emporium and they were going to compensate us for the trouble and give me a lifetime discount on wings and beer?  Come the fuck on lady, I cannot bear the suspense for one more second.  And then she dropped a giant, poorly-formed, spinach-green turd in Scout and my morning punchbowl: A fucking Jesus newsletter.  Scout tried to lift his leg and piss on her on general principal, but I advised him against it.  Why is a pamphlet full of very poorly-written horseshit about a guy I never met, somehow good news for me?  That is really fucking far from good news lady.  Certainly not horrible news, like someone I love just got maimed or Kriser's discontinued selling Scout's preferred brand of sweet potato treats.  But good news it ain't.  Here are some examples of good news:

-The more-attractive-than-you girl you went home from the bar with at 2:15 a.m. after your 7th round of tequila shots wakes up in the morning and decides she actually wants to have sex with you again
-The office building you work in burnt down overnight (and no one was injured in any way)
-You just took a huge dump
-"Roadhouse" is going to start on TBS in 3 minutes, and your pizza has already been delivered
-Your team just scored it's 101th point of the game, which ensures you get a free Dunkin Donuts coffee in the morning
-WHAM! is getting back together

Here are some examples of bad news:

-Your HIV test came back "Inconclusive"
-You just sharted, and it is only the top of the first inning
-You are being audited by the IRS
-You find out the morning after a drunken blackout that you agreed to go to a Nickelback concert
-You think someone is about to tell you something really awesome, and instead they hand you a fucking pamphlet about a guy that died 1,979 years ago for your right to go hang out in a cloud village after you die and have ZERO fun because everything fun is outlawed there

Good news my left nut.  I felt so damn bad for Scout that I actually gave him some good news shortly thereafter, which was that I was adding a dollop of peanut butter to the top of his whitefish breakfast.  I don't want him to be disillusioned as well.  I told the ladies that next time they set foot in my fucking hood, they'd better be packing brownies, minimum. 

What Sucks Now Uber Alles!!!!! (Suck it, Komen)

In case you aren't multilingual like me (The extent of my German is basicaly "Ich sprechen ein bisschen Deutsche", which means I speak a little German.  But joke is on you, Nazi, because that is the only sentence I know), "Uber Alles" means "Over All", like we own you, bitch.  My last German instructor told us, however, that this phrase is not uttered in Germany anymore as its connotation is one of "Germany is the ethnic master of all on earth, and will bomb, shoot, gas, and inject you to prove the point".  Apparently that isn't kosher any more for some reason.  Other than a few neo-Nazi underground bars on Hitler's birthday, I guess you don't hear this.  But today you hear it from on high because WSN has struck a monumental blow for women's rights in America with it's latest coup.  That's right, WSN fucking killed Komen.  The twit who convinced Komen to become one of the most pathetic, hypocritical organizations in America has just decided to "Step down".  Apparently the shitstorm from this very blog, the same that has 26 followers globally, was too much for Komen to bear and someone's head had to roll.  And I'm pretty sure we are all bright enough to see through "step down".  There was no stepping down.  The brass called a meeting and told Karen Handel's Nazi ass to grab an empty printer paper box, put the pictures of her kids at Jesus Camp in it, and get the fuck out before they released the hounds.  As stated in the previous submission on this topic, in no way does this make me respect SGK.  They wanted to pull the plug on Planned Parenthood.  It was hypocrisy and stupidity of the highest order, but at least they stood for something.  Well, they supposedly stood for preventing/curing breast cancer.  But I guess by standing for pulling funding from an organization that tries to prevent--or detect early--breast cancer, I'm a bit confused as to what they actually stand for.  The flip-flop shows they have a yellow streak a mile wide and will do whatever the most loudly yelling group tells them.  But I digress as I'm wont to do.  The point is that Karen Handel now has plenty of free time to devote to her intolerant, angry moral agenda.  Forcing your own version of morality on others is a time-consuming endeavor so this might be a welcome reprieve for this harpy bitch.  I think the most confusing part of the ideology of the militantly pro-life is that they are also very likely to support other forms of death.  What I'm saying is that if polled (and they have been polled), there is an EXTREMELY high correllation between people who are willing to stand in the freezing fucking cold holding placards of aborted fetuses on them, and who also support the death penalty, vote for political candidates most likely to go to war for something noble like oil, and shout down war protesters as being "un-American" and not supporting the troops.  So they are absolutely FOR killing adults who commit crimes, some of them borderline to fully retarded (GO TEXAS!).  They are most assuredly FOR killing tons of adults in another country, a high percentage of whom are innocent non-combatants.  However, they are without reservation AGAINST people who are against killing adults in foreign countries.  And Goddamnit, they are not about to stand for people being killed before they ever breathe oxygen.  Terminating something before it has any experiences or consciousness = BAD.  Teminating something after years of collective experiences and multiple emotional attachments with other human beings = GOOD.  As you can see, the logic is crystal clear.

The most infuriating part of this shithouse rat crazy pro-life cult is that they have no understanding of Jesus, depite screaming from on high that they are doing his bidding and being "Christian".  Are you joking?  Rallying outside of women's health clinics and shouting down people who are already miserable does not seem like something Jesus would condone.  I admit that I do not believe Jesus was the son of a divine being.  That doesn't mean I don't know Jesus.  I've studied him enough to know a few things.  First, Jesus enjoyed hallucinagenic plants.  I'm not joking.  Do your research.  It will lead you to the undeniable fact that Jesus had a "Me Gusta Black Lotus" tattoo on his shoulder blade.  Jesus was also about love, tolerance, understanding others, and forgiveness.  How can you overlook the last?  He was a hip, hip dude who liked to get stoned sometimes and wax eloquent about love.  Sort of like Barry White.  If you think he is about hazing mostly poor and young women for making what will hopefully be the most difficult decision of their entire life, then you are an asshole.  And on the off chance that is what he is about, then fuck him.  I have no earthly desire to be a part of that.  I can't fathom that Jesus would be presented with women who got drunk for the first time at age 16 and got pregnant, or were raped by some esses, or just made a terrible judgment call that will saddle them with a child they cannot support nor are mature enough to care for, and say, "Well bitch, you're wearing that one....4EVA!".  He'd be the first to hug the person walking into or out of PP and tell them everything will be all right.  To stand up straight and don't let others tell you who you are.  Tell them while he may not 100% agree, he understands.  Then he'd look over his shoulder at the seething mass of protesters and radio in an air strike to the command center in the clouds.  "Dad, Jesus here.  Corner of Main and Elm Streets.  Send in the duck-a-duck." 

Gotten away from the point, per usual.  Bottom line, WSN causes shake-up at SGK corporate headquarters.  Go get your boobies goosed ladies, we here at the World Wide Web are making the world safe for early cancer detection. 

It Was God's Plan for Me to get Fucked Up on Christmas Eve Eve

I bear absolutely no responsibility for my raging hangover on Christmas Eve.  If you were offended by it, then talk to the big guy upstairs.  "Why would you want to be hungover and borderline ill for your daughter's first Christmas Eve at Grandma's house?".  Because God wanted it that way is my answer.  If God didn't want me to be hungover all day Saturday, then why did he(she....but not he-she, though if that is what it is, then I guess that is cool) insist on me drinking heavy beer in the evening, followed by Islay Scotch all night?  Riddle me that, Batman.  If it is God's plan for the Denver Broncos to go on a 5 game winning streak, for your aunt Penny to meet her soul mate (aka 4th husband) Lenny on match.com, and if it is all part of the Lord's Divine Plan that your kid have spinal bifida, then I guarangoddamntee you that Yahweh drew it up on his X's and O's board that I was to get Native American at a land negotiation drunk on December 23rd.  I would take responsibility for my actions if only I was actually guiding myself through this so-called "life".  But I'm not.  This is God's plan baby, and I'm just along for the ride.  Fuck free will.  Listen, God laid before me a fantastic day of exploring a quaint little town in Central Ohio, and a bar with a highly respectable beer list in said town.  God then guided our sleigh back to my parents' house, where God had the foresight to send me earlier in the morning to a local market to acquire numerous bottles of excellent ale.  God put my young child to slumber and brought to my parents' home excellent friends.  God also placed in the cupboard an excellent bottle of Ardbeg Uigeadail Islay Scotch.  God then ignited a lovely roaring fire in a woodsy setting with a very comfortable sofa on which to lounge.  Now you tell me Johnny Teetotaler....What the fuck was I supposed to do?  Was I to walk up to the man God himself, point at something in the sky with alarm, and then while his attention was diverted upward, swat him as hard as I could in the ball sack with the back of my hand?  Maybe you would bag God, buy I sure as shit am not.  So I did what the Lord intended and got shitfaced.  At least I stumbled--at some point--to bed.  Other players in God's plan for Zach's December 23rd apparently "fell asleep" on the sofa and in a chair, only to be discovered by the matriarch at 3am as Bluegrass was still being broadcast over the stereo from Heaven.  Thankfully for me, God did not want me to have a stiff neck on Christmas Eve.  Only a sour stomach, body-rattling belches, a throbbing skull and constant feeling of being underwater all day. 

I'm Scotch-Irish.  What the fuck do you want from me?   

Well New York, I Guess You can Add God to the Long List of People You've Pissed Off

You Godless, liberal, morons. You're basically France at this point. Some of the only people in the world who still liked you were Jesus and God. And you done gone and fucked that up too. Lettin' dudes marry dudes and chicks marry chicks, what are you thinking? It says right there in that oh so important book that this IS NOT allowed. You know the book. The one written by St. Paul and his homies to cash in on the memory of the charismatic Jesus after he was safely dead for 30 years so he couldn't read what they wrote and scream, "Fucking BULLSHIT! That never fucking happened!". It is crystal clear in THE BIBLE, you liberal fucktards, that being gay is WRONG. God was very clear about this point: He made all humans and loves them for what they are; unless what they are is a person who is chemically ever-so-slightly different than the statistical norm, and thus attracted to their own sex; in these cases he fucking hates the ever-living shit out of them and condemns them to hell for eternity. So, uh, New Fucking York, what exactly are you not understanding? Jesus taught us to love everyone, regardless of our differences. Unless those differences are homosexual in nature. Then fuck you. He clearly stated in NoLongerRelevant 19:36: "And I shall be quite cleareth regarding one fact...that if the aforementioned 'Good Samaritan' had encounteredeth a queer instead of his sworn enemy, then he haveth no choice but to picketh up a rock and smote this queer for his evil same-sex ways....and he shall encourageth others to join in his hate and stone this homosexual to the grave.....for I loveth all mankind, excepting of course for that sort of mankind." It is so goddamned clear New York, but you have your heads shoved so far up your smug, liberal asses, that you can't even read the fuckin' Bible for fear of having to put down your communist red New York Times. And so you do the unthinkable and allow two dudes named Bruce to legally join. And now you are fucked. Hordes of maniacal gays bent on destruction are going to sweep through your streets and hills and valleys, tearing apart good honest god-fearing straight families, torching their homes, and turning their kids gay by touching them on the head with their magic gay wands. You fuckin' asked for it, Mr. Smart Guy. And when God sends the fire and brimstone, or when the next natural disaster strikes New York and that asshole on the 700 Club points out it was because you legalized lesbian union, don't come crawling back to us sensible folk asking "WHY?".

PS--On a serious note....When I saw this story on the news the day of, I was really surprised. I had no idea anyone still gave a shit about this? Like there are states which still don't legally allow this? Are you fucking kidding me? How, in the name of God, does gay people marrying each other affect your life in any way, shape, or form? If you want to be grossed out or laugh like an 8th grader when you imagine the logistics of it, fine. But to actually go out and waste one minute of your life campaigning against it? How big of a fucking loser do you have to be? I mean clearly you've absofuckinglutely nothing to do with your day, or your life. What an awful existence to be pissed off about life happening normally, and not doing anything to bother you. Gay people have no more choice in their chemical makeup than do autistic kids. Why don't leave the anti-gay rally for a hot second and go scream at autistic kids as they leave their therapy sessions. Tell 'em they can't marry other autistic kids when they grow up. If you've spent 5 minutes of your life trying to stop gay marriage, then consider renting a UHaul, driving it to a pier, and pay a vagrant $100 to push it off the end of the pier right after you lock yourself in the back. Trust me, no one will fucking miss you. The most comical moment of the news report on the passage of this law in New York was an interview after the vote with a New York state senator. He was a black guy. He said, "So you're telling me a man is going to call another man husband, and a woman is going to call another woman wife? How is that going to work? I just feel bad for our children. They are going to have to grow up in a world where a man and woman getting married doesn't mean anything (shaking head with sad look on face)" Are you fucking kidding me you assclown??? Um, in case you didn't notice you are BLACK. How are you a state senator anyway? Do you want us to turn back the clock 50 years to a time when you couldn't have been a state senator, or even voted, because miserable ignorant fucksticks like yourself thought you were inferior due to your skin color? Someone should have walked up and shot that asshole directly in the face. So to everyone who is bent out of shape about this: Just go back to sucking at life quietly somewhere and leave everyone else alone. No one likes you anyway.

PSS--Big shout out to Iowa for being more progressive and modern than New York by beating them to the punch.

Tonight We Gonna Rapture Like Its 1999!!!

Tomorrow night, 18:00 EST (and you have to love not only that the bible can predict the rapture's exact date, but it is time-zone specific as well, centered on a time zone that at the time of bible writing, no one in Europe or the Middle East even knew fucking existed!), I am on my way to Heaven for the rest of eternity. All of you Jews, Native Americans, Atheists, Hippies, Catholics, Gays, Cats, Dogs, Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, non-evangelical do-gooders, Democrats, Progressives, Mexicans, Blacks, Puerto Ricans, and especially you goddamned Muslims, can collectively kiss my hairy fucking beanbag. I'm off to Heaven like a fat girl to Shoney's. And tonight we doin' it, and we doin' it big! We are going to nail so much evangelical box shut that we're gonna have to join the gravedigger's guild. I'm talking crazy Jonas Brother's ass. I'm a bit new to this party game, given I've spent most of my life in either my parent's basement or at the Moody Bible Church, but I've got every detail taken care of. I've got every horse carriage in Chicago rented out for transportation. We're starting out with reso's at Pizzeria Mutherfucking Uno! Sorry, but Cheesecake factory was too full. Apparently a tour bus full of senior citizens from Iowa have 80% of the joint taken already. Fuck 'em, we've got 2 pitchers of Bud Light draft beer for each table of 12 people, two extra large meat lover's, and bottomless glasses of Pepsi. After we're done closing Pizzeria Uno down (actually we can't close it down, the North Chicago Youth Soccer League champions have reserved after us, so we need to be cleared out by 7:30), we're off to Joe's on Weed Street. I've heard this is where hardcore Chicagoans go when they want to get down. I've got an entire corner blocked off with balloons, crosses, Jesus Christ blow up dolls, boat loads of party hats, about a thousand cupcakes, and of course novelty bibles. And don't worry, we also have an all-you-can-drink Bud Light deal as well. Unless of course you are a sinful alcoholic and can drink more than 2 Bud Lights, because that is the limit per person. I'm sure as our party gains steam, other people in the bar will be begging to jump over the construction paper streamers which Shelly so Christfully made to block off our corner. So long as they have their own 2-per-person Bud Light deal in place as well, it is alllllll goooood. And just in case they've got this thing pegged one day late, everyone better wear purple Nikes and a track suit, just to be safe. You're all on your own for the after-party. I need to get home and log into my World of Warcraft game. I have not been able to determine if post-Rapture Heaven will have internet access, and if they do, if it will be dial-up or high speed.

Bad boys, bad boys...what'cha gonna do? What'cha gonna do when the Rapture comes for you?

P.S. SPEC is going to be there, with fucking bells on.

Save the Date: May 21st, 2011

Its a RAPTURE mutherfuckers!!! Jesus and God and the Apostles and Baby Jesus and Mary and Peter and Mother Theresa and Michael Jackson and all those hard-chargin' sons of bitches swooping down out of Heaven like a fucking shitstorm, zapping the fuck out of the sinners and non-believers and Muslims and murderers and blacks and Mexicans and Lindsay Lohan and everyone else that is getting their shit fucked 7 kinds of up in the Armageddon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hoooyahhhh!!!! In case you are some kind of goddamned idiot and weren't aware, this May 21st is the Martha Fockering Rapture. It is Biblically proven (which is about 10,000 times more serious than scientifically proven) that Jesus will come again on 5/21/11 and lay waste to the Jews, Buddhists, Catholics, immigrants, secular humanists, animals, people who believe in dinosaurs and all the other total fucktard assholes who think that the Earth is older than 6,000 years. I am going to bathe in the tears of new mothers whose children have yet to be baptized on 5/21/11. I am going to piss upon the faces of Jewish people who run soup kitchens and Catholics who volunteer at the Big Brothers, Big Sisters centers, as the warriors of Heaven skewer them with white-hot spears. I will inhale the smoke of smoldering children who have no souls because they are 2 weeks old and have not been baptized unto the One True God, the One I believe in who is obviously the only fucking One and all others are poseur pieces of shit who will sit idly by with their dicks in their collective hands as Team Jesus liquefies the bodies of their misguided followers. I am going to place jugs of wine and loaves of bread on my roof for Jesus when he comes on Rapture Eve. I will leave hay and water for his flying camels. I will have cognac and skunk weed for Jesus and Mary Magdalene so better to help them get their freak on in the guest room of my house, on the futon. I will be laughing my fucking balls off at all the Athiests as I ride the Evangelical Express straight up to Heaven and they sit there on Earth with that "Oh shit, the creepy assed Jesus-lickers were right" look plastered all over their Chevy Chases. "The world is not going to suddenly end on May 21st 2011 based on a few wing-nuts indecipherable interpretation of a collection of fiction writings 2,000 years ago." HAH! Fucking laughable mein! Have fun hanging out here on Earth, the piece of shit place you've lived your whole existence, while me and all the other borderline state-issued retards and ugly, social misfit creepoids that make your stomach turn every time you pass us on the street are going to be together partying our fucking tits off. Eat your hearts out morons!

Why Aren't I Selling Magic Beans to Fools?

It is just so easy. I rail against Joel Osteen's "The Purpose Driven Life", and his horse teeth. But he is winning, while I lose every day. I need someone, a great friend or a trusted relative, to talk me into taking a dump on my principles and start selling snake oil. People fall all the fuck over themselves to pay their hard earned credit limits for someone to fill them full of false hope. They want Joel Osteen to put it in them slow and steady, then fast and with reckless abandon, and whisper filthy little tidbits in their ear like "Be everything you were meant to be", until they are moaning uncontrollably like the mouth-breathing idiots they truly are. I have precious few talents in this world, but there is one thing I excel at that most people are terrified of: Public speaking. I could be Joel Osteen, or Billy Graham, or Glenn Beck, or even Oprah (I obviously would have to become blacker and more lesbian). I just need to find a drug which suppresses my feelings of personal pride, honesty, and helps me to forget the social pact with my fellow man. Could I sleep at night, if my pillows were stuffed with the silky manes of unicorns and 100 harpists serenaded me to bed? My heart tells me: If you want to live a purpose-driven life, then go live a fucking purpose-driven life. If you want to be a decent person, go be a decent person right now. Don't waste your goddamn time reading a shitty book written by someone too sleazy to be a car salesman. Don't waste your time searching for the inspiration from Jeebus or "God" or whatever other mascot or talisman one of these bullshitters tells you to put your faith in. Just go and fucking do it. I do not--and probably will never--understand why people waste hours on the weekend listening to someone talk about living like Christ, when they could spend that same time on that same day volunteering to help the poor or improving their community. But hey, the church needs a fresh coat of paint and the pastor needs a new Caddy, and God sure as shit ain't painting and he doesn't own a car dealership. But I digress. Here is the big problem.....my heart is not a capitalist. My heart is not a ruthless, calculating businessman. I've got the skill set to be a total scumbag, but my heart doesn't match. Even in my darkest days of frat guy shenanigans where I would not have let my own daughter in the same town with, let alone room, myself or any of my friends, would I have ever dreamed of cheating people. But now that I am staring 40 more years of work-a-day hell in the face I wonder if someone should stab my heart to death and let my brain start calling the shots? Is speed the answer? Should I become a speed addict? On speed all of your ideas are straight aces and morals become completely negotiable, if not wholly obsolete. Do you think Osteen stands up there in his mega-church giving sermons with those wide-eyes, ethereal and spooky grin, cascading sweat....NOT on speed? Give me a fucking break. He's in the green room doing blasters off the wings of angels and laughing all the way to the bank.

Could Everyone Quit Fucking "Checking In" Already

The Internet giveth, and the Internet taketh away. We as humans cannot blame the Creator for the sharks or the influenza or the cockroaches or The View or any of the Kardashians. We can only praise him for the good things in the world. He is not to be held responsible for anything negative which exists in the universe he/she/it(we can't rule out that a creator who created RuPaul is a Boston-Batwanger itself) created. In much the same way we cannot hold Al Gore responsible for any negative spectres which have materialized in the Internet world he created. Al Gore is to be praised only for YouTube groin injury videos, pornography, anonymous character attacks and The Star Wars Kid. Al Gore is not responsible for Perez Hilton, Trojan Horse viruses, Graigslist rapes, and he sure as goddamned shit isn't responsible for this insidious "Checking In" suckfest on Facebook. Mark Zuckerberg is responsible for that atrocity, and may he be damned all the way to hell and back for it. No one cares what new fair-trade coffee shop/Hello Kitty vintage schwag store in Brooklyn you and your iPad-toting hipster douchebag friends just walked into. No one is impressed that you checked into the just opened Rockit Ranch bar du jour in Chicago, when in reality you are standing outside freezing your dick off with your brahs behind a velvet rope with visions of cherry bombs dancing in your head. Rather than sit here and bitch while offering no resolutions per usual, here are some ideas I have for check in destinations that someone might actually care about:
-John Doe checking in @ some pussy
-Mike Hunt checking in @ blacked out drunk
-Hung Low checking in @ my coke dealer's car
-Jane Hoe checking in @ office bathroom, 3rd stall, masturbating vigorously
-Seymour Butts checking in @ Ray's Big 'Ol Titties and Chicken Wing Shack
-Joe Blow checking in @ Lindsay Lohan's box
-Anthony Cooker checking in @ alley behind liquor store, stabbing vagrant to death to see if they bleed real blood
-Ima Tweeker checking in @ Red Roof Inn, shooting meth under toenails
-Michael Jackson checking in @ little boy's booty
-Paul Cook checking in @ strangling hooker
-Missy Urcock checking in @ methadone clinic
-Ron Awesomeheir checking in @ fucking your sister. no seriously, fucking your sister, hard
-Oprah Winfrey checking in @ in the closet
-Sandra Lovesdik checking in @ welfare office
These are some places we might actually want to show up and watch what you are doing. But so long as you are "checking in @ Golden Gate Bridge", go ahead and disable this feature in Facebook. Unless of course you are jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge. Then by all means, let us know.

Buffalo Bills Wideout Steve Johnson Finally Holds God Accountable

It is about son-of-a-bitch'n time someone finally held God accountable for a fuck-up. It is all praise for successes, all the time. But finally Steve Johnson showed some fucking balls and blamed the responsible party for dropping the game-winning touchdown against the Steelers yesterday: God. If it is God that catches passes and wins games for you, then it is God who drops passes and loses games. That simple. There is really no sense in wasting effort trying to figure out why he took time out of his busy day of listening to billions of prayers from billions of people just as stupid as you. Just know that God presently fucking hates you, and loves the Steelers. Maybe he's a fan of all the chicks Rothlisberger is raping, maybe a Harrison cheap-shot that paralyzes a defenseless receiver really gives him a hard-on, perhaps he had some money on Pittsburgh, or it could even be as simple as God loves that Polamalu commercial where his Polynesian afro keeps getting progressively puffier. Whatever the case may be, for the time being God is pulling for the black and gold, at your expense.

And given that you are not taking credit for anything your physical being does in life, Steve Johnson, just go kill someone. Shoot them right in the face. God did it, not you.

Goose Island Bourbon County Stout is the Bombtrack

Your first sip of Goose Island's seasonal release is like God, Jesus and the Holy Ghost all ascended from Cloudland and put their nuts directly in your mouth. Its that good....A tea-bagging from the Holy Trinity. At 13% ABV you are also in no danger of sobriety rearing its ugly head. If you don't go out and buy some stat, you're a dick.

I don't typically like Goose Island beers. They are supposed to be "The Chicago Brewery", but I think the majority of their beers are sub-par at best. Honkers Ale is lame. 312 is queerer than a 5-wheeled wagon. The new Green Line pale ale is a piss-poor representation of the pale ale genre. With local breweries such as Revolution Brewing, Half Acre and my personal fave Piece absofuckinglutely dominating, I don't understand why people waste money on GI's regular mediocre lineup. Oh wait, because people love mediocrity. Why else would Navy Pier exist and GW Bush get a second term? That being said, this beer is decadence in a glass. I just had my first of the season last night, and here are some tasting notes:

-The nose was that of a fireplace lounge at a country club, full of wealth and opulence and rich mahogany. It won't allow any of the servants to look it in the eyes.

-The first taste has the essence of a long Allman Brothers instrumental in a green field at a humidity-free 75 degrees, on mushrooms.

-The palette is dominated thereafter by very strong, powerful, quick thrusts of Metallica Garage Days leading into an extended instrumental version of Metallica's "One". The palette of the Bourbon Country Stout ends with "Darkness....imprisoning me....all that I see.....". At some point a hole is torn in the sun.

-The finish has not-so-subtle notes of a virgin's honeypot on prom night.

Or you could always just go pick up a 6er of Bud Light and drink low-alcohol, ice-cold piss. That's a popular choice.

God Ain't Gonna do us Like That

Run, don't walk, to your local car dealership and buy yourself the biggest SUV or truck you can find. Climate change is the bullshit of all bullshits. It is the biggest bullshit in China. And why you ask? Because John Mutherfuckin Ballgame Shimkus says so. But who the fuck is John Shimkus, and why are we invalidating millions of hours of scientific experiments showing that Climate Change is real? John Shimkus is the Illinois 19th District Republican Congressman, that's the fuck who. But it isn't so much who John Shimkus is as much as who is validating his claims that Climate change is a steaming pile of monkey jizz: God. That swashbuckling, fire and brimstoning, pillar of salt turning, certified badass sumamabitch God. Argue with that Mr. Save The Earth fucking pussy. Go ahead, argue with God. "Well, I think we have to accept the completely logical fact that as a 3 dimensional object with proven, existing boundaries, thus finite and not infinite resources, if we wish to not exhaust those resources and destroy the planet we live on, we should consider some conservation strategies." Shimkus, just ready to bury this mutherfucker in a goddamned Mt. Everest worth of logic: "BULLSHIT!!! God says this isn't going to happen!"

And this is of course splitting hairs, but God he/her/itself (and lets be honest, we know its a dude, why else would guys have these cool dicks?) didn't actually say that. Rather it was written down in the official book of God, the Bible, by some dudes that wrote about God, but never met God. Nor did they really even know the guy claiming to be his son. But they heard some shit he might have said once upon a time at this fucking awesome kegger rage-on over at Zebbeciah's parent's Dead Sea house when they on vacation in Italy. I don't know where they got the rest of the information. Maybe microfiche in the Jerusalem Public Library? Maybe it was written on the wall of the men's room at the Damascus-to-Cairo donkey cart stop. It doesn't fucking well matter, because God said it, and that is endy fookin' storry, lad.

So live it up and quit sweating this natural resources and climate change fairy tale that liberals and science PHDs are trying to blow up your ass with their water bongs. God promised Noah, after the flood, that he would never end the earth through natural disaster again. Even though he (or the dudes espousing his wisdom even though they never talked to him) made no reference to human beings in their consumptive excesses exhausting the earth's resources, the fact that he vaguely mentioned in the book he never wrote or authorized that he wouldn't destroy the earth through natural'y type devices again is good enough for Johnny Ballgame Shimkus, and it is damn well good enough for me.

So if you think God isn't creative enough to come up with a new earth-ending strategy, then fuck you. And secondly, fuck you.