plastic cups stored

Basing its decision on its inhabitants' incessant demands to consume hot or cold beverages without having to worry about hauling around their own insulated containers, the city of Baltimore, Maryland declared the marshy areas south of its baseball and football stadiums the Anne Arundel Area Styrofoam HOLding Estuary, or AAASHOLE. “We rejoice when inhabitants of and visitors to this city drink from one-time-use-only beverage containers,” said Yolanda E. George, vice-mayor of Charm City, while open-pit burning a few hundred pounds of old computer parts and CDs in her backyard. “But unlike forward-thinking metropolitan areas in other parts of America, we're sure that the best place to store our thousands of tons of soiled Styrofoam cups and discarded plastic shopping bags is right down there in the muddy muck next to the local flora and fauna.” Rather than banning the use of plastic containers city-wide, requiring shoppers to bring their own reusable bags, or doing more to protect its waterways from contamination by convenience-addled local drunkards, Baltimore's city council recently released a statement telling concerned parties to go and fuck themselves.

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opinions not voiced

Preferring the proven tactic of smile-and-nod over direct confrontation or the voicing of his personal opinions, thirty-something whorphan Wellington Erasmoss Denyels of Shelter Bay, Connecticut, emerged from the belly of the beast largely unscathed. “Fuck,” he said aloud while driving back home through the early fringes of frankenstorm Sandy, his whirring wiper-blades the only things breaking the trip's growing monotony, before his inner monologue kicked in, saying: 'I'm glad no one pressed me on my political views, and I'm so happy that I didn't have to explain my shifting religious philosophies and say just how little I think Jesus is guiding the steps of my life.'

Thinking back to the night before, Wellington shook his head and forced himself to laugh as memories danced across his mind's eye – the woman asking if his wife were sitting in the chair next to him even though he was not even wearing a wedding band and there was no indication he had brought a date; the tattooed, self-proclaimed street minister insisting on pointing out the salient features on his chopper-style motorcycle while making sure to mention after each breath that “Jesus saves”; the condescending ease with which nearly everyone in attendance threw around the name of their religion's god while subtly sniping at each other and touting their own virtues and achievements to anyone within earshot.

Deactivating his vehicle's cruise control so as not to ram a slow-moving car that had lurched suddenly into his path, Mr. Denyels breathed a sigh of relief in the knowledge that he was leaving the South and that he would no longer have to drive past house upon house whose owners had chosen to cement six-foot-high Romney/Ryan signs into the ground mere feet from the edges of busy, narrow byways. He shuddered when remembering the fact that a majority of North Carolinians had but recent amended their state's constitution to restrict the rights of homosexual Americans and to define marriage according to the societal and religious rules of a Bronze-Age desert people, thus exposing their innocent neighbors to the harsh punishments of YHWH, the god of the ancient Israelites. His patience nearly shot and his gas-tank approaching empty, our whorphan exited somewhere in northern Virginia, to have a stretch and to sniff the air for hints of moral repression, of which there were thankfully few.

© mentiri factorem fecit (場黑麥)

pants “still wet”

To the consternation of one Delilah Veronique U'utumblondh, 78, a retired green-grocer from the South Bronx, New York, her favorite walking pants – the ones that wick moisture nicely and that fit snugly around her thighs – are still quite damp. “They had originally gotten wet the other day when I was gardening on 6th and B,” said Ms. U'utumblondh as she was mounting the steps to her narrow but brightly-painted row home. “I thought that by wearing them yesterday while walking with the ladies from the community center on our daily hike through town to pick up trash that they would dry out. But, alas, they are still quite damp here, and here.” The native New Yorker, whose parents had emigrated to the United States from Ghana in the 1950s, sighed deeply in an apparent effort to control her emotions, shaking her head as if to drive away tears. Then, she entered her home, straightened up a bit in the downstairs living-room, removed the moisture-tainted pants, and hung them to dry on her backyard drying rack instead of putting them in the clothes-drier, since it looked like it was going to be a sunny day outside after all.

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North Carolina announces Fag-Out 2012

Come one, come all, to Fag-Out 2012, and help us get the Fags Out! Billed as America's largest concerted action against homosexuality, lesbianism, and freedom since that cunt Liberty first sneezed, this will be the righteous killing-spree demanded by our bloodthirsty God. We shall drive the queers, the screwballs, and the homos out of this state – and out of the whole goshdurn South – first by casually banning gay marriage, then by passing and enforcing laws based on those found in Leviticus 20 of the Old Testament. As per the explicit, clearly-worded instructions of terrible god YHWH, it is the duty of every Christian to kill, murder, put to death, and otherwise end the life of any man sleeping with another man as he would sleep with a woman. Fuck the teachings of Jesus Christ, who never once said that marriage Had To Be between a man and a woman, or, who, for that matter, never actually spoke of homosexuality as evil, or bad – we are going old-school on this one, unleashing the fury of that most jealous and spiteful of gods, Jehovah, with a fierce vengeance and unrelenting fury not seen since He wreaked His blessed genocide upon the inhabitants of Jericho.

It was not enough for us to call homosexuality a sin; we were not satisfied with ridiculing and occasionally beating on those damn dirty fairies; our efforts to marginalize these our honest, upright fellow Americans in other, less obvious ways, simply did not go far enough; no, we had to pass laws to make them officially and legally Worth Less Than Everyone Else (and lacking of equal treatment under the law). And now, we finally get to start killing them. Please, concerned citizens of North Carolina, denizens of the Southern states, please, if you are not a filthy fucking faggot, please mark your front door with three large black X's, and do not interfere if you see us dragging your lesbian neighbors out of their homes by the hair and hacking their heads off in the streets using common digging shovels. Please, stay inside, watch your TV, have another snack, and don't forget to send your checks to support the blessed, righteous ministry of your favorite televangelist. If you want to get involved, if you want to bludgeon a stinking homo to death without worrying about others mistaking it for a human being, go on down and get deputized at your local police station, thus joining our honorable ranks and perpetuating the proud tradition of the Leviticus 20 Liberator (c), such honest, caring people as have been “liberating the souls of gays to Hell since well before the birth of Christ."

So join us for Fag-Out 2012: put a shine on your killin' boots, a razor's edge on that pig-sticker, and leave your ability to reason and any remaining shred of common sense at home, 'cuz we got more Freedoms to rescind, and a whole bunch of pillow-biters and rug-munchers to put out of their miserable fucking lives.

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