Dear New Yorker, It's Stupid To Be Too Smart - BH/DJD/IHWTH

Personally, I don't have a problem with The New Yorker's controversial cover illustration of Barrack Hussein, our nation's future 44th president, dressed in typical Islamic fashion. Similarly, I don't have a problem with the depiction of Michelle Obama, looking like a gun-toting militant version of Helen Willis from The Jeffersons.

I have a freaking problem with the fact that it seems most Americans are so stupid, that they don't realize that The New Yorker is calling them STUPID!

The danger lies in the sad fact that, at a time when an alarmingly large segment of our population seems to think that Barrack is part of some Islamic fundamentalist sleeper cell, a satirical piece such as this one will only serve to validate the beliefs of all the back-assward hillbillies that take every word on Fox News as the gospel.

The New Yorker is written BY smart people FOR other smart people. Hillbilly tards should refrain from even trying to fathom any of the content whatsoever found inside (that includes on the cover) of this award-winning publication.

And so, you f*cking geniuses, it is with great sadness that I issue this plea to The New Yorker:

Dear New Yorker,

Please dumb it the f*ck down or your liberal asses are going to see a 286 year old Republican (who, incidentally, shot down Martin Luther The King day in much the same way that his ass was shot down over Vietnam) elected.

Love,
Haterade On Ice

Old McDonald Had A Fruitcake... - WWWWP/TRG/DJD

In an earlier post, I addressed Euro-domination of cycling.

In an even earlier post than that, I addressed "furry fandom"

I am now positively horrified to report that these two worlds have evidently collided -- the proof of which is a beautifully composed photo of a couple of fruit loops cheering their favorite Tour De France riders on to hot, sweaty, two-wheeled, Spandex ensconced (TRG) Euro-victory.

E-I-E-I-O

You Will Now Feel The POWER Of The Dark Side -- I Mean, The Juggs. Sorry Lord Vader - BP/DJD

A clip from America's Got Talent -- a shining example of why so much of the world hates us.



I won't even make this a racial issue because I suppose a washed up, middle-aged stripper of any race, sporting lob-sided silly-cone juggs with (obviously) absolutely NO sensation left in them whatsoever, could end up on national television in front of The Hoff, Sharon, & the obligatory British talent judge, crushing entire 6 packs of cans and breaking boards with her bazooms like a proper 9th degree Karate master.

I think the most sobering fact we must all bear in mind is that there was a first time that Busty Heart attempted this little stunt.

What in the name of all that is good and holy would make a b*tch try this to begin with?!?!?!

This = Not A Good Day - DJD/WWWWP

Cycling is a sport that will always be dominated by Euros (European White people) or adventurous wannabe Euros (White non-Euros who wish they were). The image above is precisely why.

If you'll examine the photo closely, you'll find that there appear to be no Negro limbs flying about in the melee. There are a few reasons for this.

1. FIRST AND FOREMORST: As hip-hop culture often recognizes if not glorifies reckless styles of driving ("ghostriding the whip", "doors open Mayne", etc), Black people fully respect the level of danger involved when sharing the open road with an entire world full of fruitcake drivers.

2. Cycling attire is generally composed of tight-fitting colorful outfits made of Spandex and/or Lycra. While Black people generally do prefer their outfits to be outlandishly colorful, they are almost NEVER tight-fitting, as clothing that hugs the body is considered to be quite gay (TRG).

3.Cycling is a very expensive sport -- with the best bicycles costing well upwards of $5,000. The simple truth is that spending that much money on something as frivolous as a bicycle interferes with the Black person's need to install expensive chrome custom wheels on their vehicle.

Big Up - Lance Armstrong, E-40

Another Reason I Won't EVER Move To India - DJD

Meet Ram Singh Munda and his pet sloth bear Rami.

It seems that Mr. Munda has found himself in a bit hot water as of late because, even in India, it's not all that legal to own a bear -- let alone take the little fucker out for spins on one's bike.

Rami, whom the Mundas considered a part of the family, was sent to a zoo where he has since put his little heartbroken bear self on a hunger strike.

To make matters worse, Munda's imprisonment has led to his abandoned 6 year old daughter being remanded to boarding school. Dang.

This story ranks just above "Blinged-out cows" at #487 on The List Of Reasons I'll Never Move To India.

POW! Batman Roller Coaster Decapitates SC Teen - DJD

Holy life imitates a Final Destination movie, Batman!

An unidentified teen was decapitated by the popular "Batman The Ride" roller coaster at Six Flags Over Georgia on Saturday.

Witnesses report that the boy was struck by a coaster train moving at more than 50 mph. This was only after scaling not one, but TWO fences and (obviously) ignoring a number of posted signs denying visitors access to a restricted area of the park. This area was no doubt off-limits due to the fact that being there could potentially result in... I don't know... say... the loss of one's head?

Oh. Did I mention the young master was trying to rescue a hat he'd lost while riding the coaster earlier?

"Fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony."

Big Up - Morpheus, Ichabod Crane

Ummm - DJD

WARNING: This ain't one to watch at work, kids -- unless you are employed by a smut peddler.



I couldn't really type anything for this post because... ummm... there was some stuff I had to like... do... ummm... and stuff.

Yeah.

I had to do stuff -- that's the ticket!

Sweet Jesus!

Oh My Sweet Bilbo Baggins In Mexico, Mini-Me Is F*cking?! - DJD

I hate it when genetic freaks think it's OK to use today's readily accessible digital video technology to capture their abominable antics.

Upon seeing the video snippet, my first reaction was laughter - nervous shocked laughter. That was followed soon after by a very somber silence.

After 8 months of recovering from 2 Girls, 1 cup, I find myself in a very dark place again.

This has taken a part of me and destroyed it.