Tuesday, November 6, 2012

People Watching Episode 2: Voters


Hi folks. Today in America, we vote! Here is a chilling fact that I cannot wrap my head around:

Both Obama and Romney each raised well over 800 million dollars for their campaign. The sad part is, one of these dudes is gonna loose, and that’s over 800 million dollars that was wasted. What can we even do with that much money?

We can buy every American an ice cream cone!
We can pay off 20,000 student loan debts of $40,000 or less (We could probably create the same amount of jobs…)
We could pay over 1 million people’s rent this month.
We could hire 8 million people to kick Michelle Bachman in the face for 100 dollars a pop. Or! Everyone in America could do it for about 2 dollars a pop.
We could feed some starving kids.
We could pay off a puny portion of the national debt.
Save jillions of feral kitties and doggies and build huge fun house complexes for them.
Which loser am I going to vote for? Jill Stein of course! I just can’t bring myself to vote for someone I don’t agree with. Its not like my vote counts anyway no matter who I vote for.
What else could we do with 800 million dollars?
http://elections.nytimes.com/2012/campaign-finance

Friday, November 2, 2012

People Interactions Episode 2: Jealous Bitches (Men and Women)


I hate concerts. The only reason I go to one once in awhile is because I have so much respect for the artist that I feel bad for raiding other itunes and getting their music for free. Let me also add that I heavily prefer outdoor concerts as opposed to indoor ones. Fresh air is a beautiful thing.
Crystal Castles & Kontravoid were unfortunatly booked at the self righteous First Avenue, the First Ave. that boasts OMG THIS IS WHERE PRINCE GOT HIS START. I have some news for you First Ave, Prince didn’t need you for shit. He could have gotten his start on a pile of manure in one of Minnesota’s more sparsely populated counties because PRINCE IS PRINCE. The Artist Formally Known as PRINCE I should say. Because he is so fucking badass he has a symbol for a name. There’s a reason you’ve gone out of business before, First Ave. Its because you cater to the asshat crowd.
Anyhoo, me and my cousin got there when the doors opened and stood in the front row for over and hour, dancing to the random pre-party tunes and having a good time. Most GIRLS (I say girls because grown women don’t act like this.) in the venue were giving us the side eye, because how dare we wear actual colors, look smokin’ hot, and have a good time at their sacred Crystal Castles concert. There were also BOYS (Once again, grown men don’t act like this) Telling us that their midget asses were going to climb on top of us to see because tall folk need to accept being in the back of a crowd because being blessed with height is apparently the equivalent to being born with a gold spoon in your mouth.
Kontravoid was fucking awesome. His sound was awesome. I wish he was wearing a speedo. At this point more fish out of water women like ourselves (I.e. women who groom on a weekly basis AT LEAST and are not wearing a 100.00 ‘thrift store’ jacket from American Apparel) had weaseled their way up to us, probably assuming that amazons like ourselves would protect their adorable asses from getting trampled. WRONG. So WRONG.
Crystal Castles had taken the stage and from the moment they did it was painfully obvious that their crew either did the most half assed soundcheck in the world or was trying to sabotage them. Alice Glass opened her mouth and no sound came out (Well, there was sound, but we could only hear it because she was two feet away from us) And then, 30 seconds in, she decided to attempt a crowd surf. I knew our small humble cluster of women and tall dudes was fucked from the moment she reached out to us. All of the sudden it was just me holding her up because all the jealous dyke looking bitches had yanked everyone else’s hair and they all went tumbling to the ground, along with myself and Alice Glass who was gingerly plucked out of the cluster fuck by the one lone wirey looking bouncer.
Then the dozen of us that were on the ground got trampled and kicked. Someone stole my shit while I was down, and when I finally got up all the people who were around me were gone and some self entitled dyke kept trying to suck/bite on my tits.
Had the sound been good, I would have been content to be squished up against the the front gate with lesbos nibbling at my teats. But the sound sucked, the fog machine had gone awry, and someone kept farting, so the only air I was getting was filled with glorious red meat farts. It took me two songs to even work my way to the edge, where I had some dancing room and the air was less farty.
Bitches were still hating. Still yanking on my pony tail, punching me in the tits, throwing drinks on me. But, at the end of the day, I’m the one who got to sniff Alice’s pits. Take that, you sad sappy under 21 small town U of M dip shits. And yes, your dumb ass spent 6$ on a fucking can of Pabst Blue Ribbon. More power to ya.