Please. Stop. The. Madness.

Well, it’s been about nine months.  Yeah, I know.  Shut your suck and leave me alone.  Heellis has been posting, and she’s a competitive one, so with this, I’ve got a 1:3 losing ratio within the recent three months.  I’ve been absent because:

Job… can you say, Cube Monkey?  Formerly of Crystal City (VA), now we’ve been herded back to the mothership Pentagon so that I have eight hours a day of the finest no-reach-around day care your government can possibly provide.  I love being a no-authority wage slave.  At least I’m not in the basement like I was before.

Aluminum… I melt it and make yard shit.  No kidding.  I built a foundry and started making aluminum paving tiles.  Fairfax County (again, VA) is now losing recycling revenue because of my danger-hobby ass.  Think I’m kidding?  It’s lots of fun.  More to follow.  Good news – the more beer I drink, the more aluminum I have to smelt.

Tired… I still wake up at 4AM and work all day (see above, ref. ‘wage slave’).  Also, I get to wear pinchy shoes, a fucking belt (??) and a tie (wtf).  The belt has to hold up my polyester blend slacks.  When I die, my tiny wife will make my death shroud by hand out of that polyester to commemorate my insipid terminal lameness.  You may know already that I hate not being in the Army anymore.  Good news – my commute dropped by 45 minutes when we moved to the 5-Sided Day Care Center.  Now, it’s only 1-1/2 hours total each day.  Yay.

I think that’s enough for an update.  Actually, it’s a pretty long-winded update.  Anyway, I got inspired by those asstastic websites like, “The Worst Shit Ev-ar of 2017,” and “Dumbest Shit from 2017 We Hated.”  You know the asshattery here.  It’s out there.  Google that shit.  I thought the webz could benefit from the perspective of a high-40’s, fat, idiotic point of view… which would be mine.  I decided that some of the shit from 2017 needs to not bleed like armpit sweat on a muggy Virginia day into 2018.  Here’s my very short list, because I’m not needy and shit:

Kardashatards.  Yes, I mean Kris Kardashian’s evil plot to time-share all of her daughters’ uteruses out for the dramatic ‘enjoyment’ of the twisted, fucked television entertainment god.  Girls, PSA here – turning your junk into a circus clown car isn’t going to make you feel like a whole person.  Attention is fleeting, keep that in mind.  Being an attention whore sucks just as soon as the attention stops.  And most of us really, truly, don’t give a steaming pile of shit about your drama because we have our own real shit to deal with every day.  The difference is, we don’t have the money to throw at it because we don’t rent our lives out like you do.

#MeToo.  I don’t want to give the wrong impression here, because it’s tragic (no, really, no Ranty here) that we even have to have #MeToo.  I’d love an hour in a sound-proof room with Watch-Me Harvey Weinstein and my pliers, knives, a blow torch, and some rock salt.  You sick fuck (and all you others who are outed or not), stay away from my daughter.  Those like you – don’t think I won’t.  I’ve got no issue with going back to prison.  The rest of you Harvey-esque taint stains may wait in line for the administration of my purification by pain.  Kiss your tiny dicks goodbye, motherfuckers… daughterfuckers… people-who-don’t-want-your-withered-ass-cocks-motherfuckers.

The Twit-In-Chief.  Where do I start here?  We’re now realistically only 280 characters away from thermonuclear war.  Fuck.  I’m so goddamn glad I live near D.C., which is inside the other fat, bad-hair, tiny-dick asshole’s missile range.  Seriously, you two?  A button-based, dick-measuring contest?  Pardon me while I research Australian citizenship procedures.  I’m disappointed on a scale you cannot imagine, and I didn’t even vote for that Cheeto-colored mummy ballbag.  Act like a fucking President, you infant, for the love of puppies.  Again, I didn’t vote for you, but you lost me irrevocably when you wouldn’t call neo-nazis evil (I refuse to capitalize ‘nazi’).  My father fought in WW II.  Now, we have those anal pores here in my America… and our President is encouraging them.  Fuck me. [cleans weapons]

There you have it.  I really want to resurrect the Rantswers® here.  I had a lot of fun doing them and those who participated seemed to enjoy my abuse.  What do you say?

14 Responses to “Please. Stop. The. Madness.”

  1. Um…. I know you! We met once…somewhere….maybe a Burger King in Kansas?

  2. Ahhh! It’s good to see the rants, and The Rants, back in action. And so remarkably well-restrained. I was afraid the long hiatus might have built up sufficient psychic pressure, that you would say something really un-PC.
    A wish for a Happy, prosperous, and un-nuclear New Year to you and The Little Woman from all of us. 😀

    • And a great upcoming year to you too, Archon, from me and Tiny One. I restrained myself because I don’t want to get fired like the flipping-Trump-off bike lady. But trust me, there’s a layer of fucking rage…

  3. I reckon this has exorcised every demon known to man … not that I believe in that shit! Anyhow, most entertaining so thanks! On second thoughts, I’ve just thought of a few myself, so I’ll plan a post like this myself! Cheers!

  4. Yay Rantswears!!!! I can’t wait!!!

  5. Resurrect Ranstwers. That would be fun. Tnank you for the update.

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