Archive for November, 2009

Thank You

November 4, 2009

Thank YouFifty posts. Time to call it a day. As you can see, I’ve got a lot of shit to sign. Kissinger walked into the office five minutes ago and dumped this huge stack of papers onto my table. Manolo’s taken the day off, so ol’ muggins here has to sort them out. It’s been a lot of fun writing this blog, and we hope you’ve enjoyed reading it. From Manolo, Kissinger and myself: thanks for stopping by. Don’t forget to vote for me in 2012.


A Wild Coincidence

November 4, 2009

ba-letter28_gr_SFCG1256695605So according to the head geek at the University of San Francisco, the odds of this actually happening were one in 10 million. What can I tell you? I’m a very lucky guy, HATM HATM HATM! How much do you wanna be me right now, huh? Anyway, the whole thing was Manolo’s idea. He hates Tom Ammiano and the other losers in the State Assembly even more than I do. Like I’ve got nothing better to do with my time than to sit in front of my computer and write mildly amusing letters to my enemies. Seriously, I have to prepare for my inevitable ascendancy to the Presidency of the Universe in 2012! EEEYYYAAARRRGGGHHHTM!!!

The Toxic Avenger

November 3, 2009

ToxicSo I’ve got a disease, and it’s eating away at my muscular soul. It’s an obsession, getting in the way of my gubernatorial duties. Clouding my judgment. Fogging things up. Making a mess… I can’t stop thinking about her.

Her neuroses. Her incessant insecurity. Her whoring for attention. It’s fascinating. I have never before been in the presence of a creature so vile and nasty, with so little self-respect, whose sole purpose in life is to make other people notice her, no matter what the cost to herself.

There is a perverse thrill at the thought of getting tangled in her web of self-obsession, of trying to shoulder the radioactive baggage she carries around with her, of getting shipwrecked in the violent storms that rage in her fragile psyche. It’s not love. Not even close. It’s a challenge. And the thing in life I love more than tits and stogies is a good challenge.

But it’s more than that. It’s also about reaffirming my belief that there’s a good, happy person inside all of us, buried beneath the bullshitTM, waiting to get out. Most of us just need a helping hand from time to time. Some need a gubernatorial bratwurst. And I am more than willing to make that personal sacrifice and serve the greater good.

If I make it back alive, all I ask is to be remembered as the man-king who fixed Ann Coulter and made the world just that little bit more pleasant for the rest of us to live in.

Politiks 101

November 2, 2009

Politiks 101So everybody’s favourite fire-breathing superhero is poised to become the world’s first carbon billionaire. I’m shocked. Giddy with disbelief. The walls of reality are crashing in around me. Okay, not really.

First he makes a super smash-hit box-office movie about how if we all don’t stop farting and filling the atmosphere with gas, all the polar bears are gonna die. Or some shit like that. I forget the details. Kissinger and I were baked out of our skulls when we watched it. Then he invests his money in a bunch of businesses that record and regulate how much people are farting. Then these businesses get juicy government contracts to record and regulate how much people are farting.

Let’s take Silver Spring Networks as an example. How much was their contract from the Energy Department worth? That’s right. $560 million. The government policies he supports conveniently pump millions of dollars into businesses he has invested in. Duh. His buddy Maurice Strong spends the first five minutes of every day just laughing his ass off when he wakes up because you people are so fucking easy to fleece. Honest to CROM. EEEYYYAAARRRGGGHHHTM!!!

I’ll tell you how much Mr Gore cares about his precious polar bears: in 2006 his mansion used up 221,000 kilowatt-hours; the national average is 10,656 kilowatt-hours. And then this little fuckweed has the nerve to fly around the world telling other people to fart less. What an asshole.