Bloomberg to Seek Third Anti-Dolphin Term as Mayor

Huzzah!  Bloomberg's gonna run again.  He's using the old "we're in a financial crisis and the city needs a steady and experienced hand routine," to which I concur.  But we all know it's to complete his already stellar program of dolphin extermination.  By cleaning up our rivers and harbor, Mike has encouraged dolphins to venture further into New York's waterways than ever before - even so far as the Gowanus Canal.  Thus, Mike's pro-environmental tactics have brought the murder of these murderers into the reach of everyday and casual New York dolphin murderer's murder.  Why the other day I was down at the Battery, near the Holocaust Museum (in an irony that was not lost on me) where I spied with my little eye something that starts with "P".  Right there, within spitting distance was a porpoise.  Quick like a bunny I ran to a street vendor and bought two Sabrett's with mustard.  Well known fact, the blowholes don't like Hebrew National hot dogs.  I tossed one Sabrett about 20 feet out while the other frank was dropped a mere 4 feet in front of me in the water.  With the all-beef goodness creating an ET-esque trail, sans Reese's Pieces, the porp. swam slowly an inexorably closer.  Momentarily borrowing i.e. stealing a broom handle from a local street cleaner, I taped a plastic butter knife to the end for a makeshift harpoon.  Taking careful aim, I Queequeg'd the weapon and it found it's home, solid and true, lodged within the blowhole of the fearsome predator.  Leaping over the promenade's railing into the water, I grasped the spear and rattled it around within the blowhole, causing an uncomfortable plastic butter knife serration chafing.  The beast cried in dismay and turned towards the ocean, flippering as fast as it's flippers can flipper.  Then it got hit by the Circle Line and flailed helplessly.  A local kayaker, taking advantage of Mikey's newly cleaned Hudson River, towed the ailing beast towards the shore.  Identifying myself as a marine biologist, I grabbed the fish and beat it to death with a rock.  Unsympathetic onlookers began to verbally assail me from the shore but I defused the situation by saying I was an expert and flashing my badge (from Cookie Crisp, ca. 1984).  

In short, thank you Mike for making the killing of fish easier and within grasp (quite literally) of the average New Yorker and here's to one more successful and bloody term.

Dolphins Ruin the Stock Market.... Aaaaagain

777 points, the equivalent of $1.2 trillion was lost in the market today.  You see, I have a degree in advanced poly-economics of the inverse proportionality in fiduciary trading systems so I'm what Scientologists like to call smarter than the average frat boy who worked at Duke and then was a Junior Level Analyst at Lehman who lived at Normandie Court and banged assistants he took home on Thursday nights from the roof bar at Sutton Place who is now schadenfreudedly unemployed.  

Most people are blaming the government for not passing a $700 billion blank check to the failed banks.  What most people do not know is that the 95 Democrats and 133 Republicans who voted against the bailout are in fact cetaceans.  Lynn Westmoreland, Republican of Georgia is currently lost in an estuary trying to find his way back out to sea.  Steven Rothman, Democrat from New Jersey is frantically trying to remove a harpoon from his back in the Sea of Japan.  Virginia Brown-Waite of Florida is a Republican Representative currently residing in Starkist (60%), Chicken of the Sea (35%) and Bumble Bee Tuna (+/- 4%) cans after being caught in a North Atlantic net.   So no wonder it failed - half of the votes of "No" were cast by a cabal of anti-finance dolphins voting subversively in the stead of their deceased or otherwise incapacitated HoR colleagues.  

So if you are an unemployed trader and vowing vengeance against those that wronged you, don't go after the corrupt CEOs who raped both their employees and investors.  Don't go after the system of deregulated government that fostered a culture of unfettered greed.  Don't go after your own hubris for subscribing to an ultimately flawed education and employment in an unsound industry.  Instead, attack with extreme predjudice those ultimately against you and your idiotic life choices - the Dolphins.

So join up with a Greenlander Whaling Fleet and ship to sea.  You'll see the world, avenge your in not anyway personally fostered failure and make some good money.

I'll see you at sea, bitches.  

Go MBA!

KHAN!

OK - so I'm screaming "KHHHHAAAANNN!!!" a la Bill Shatner right now.  I have a new enemy.  No, not the FDIC - they're an old enemy.  More like a nemesis actually.  We've been playing a cat and mouse game for quite some time, my friends.

The new enemy - wait for it - another maritime mammal on the hit list: 

Some background - Roughly 5,000 years ago when Jesus and King David joined their power rings to create the earth, the creatures, the plants and Batman, they met with some unintended results.  First, they fucked up by making the dolphin and the whale.  The squid, though - they kick ass.  But then - they also made an evil cousin to the dolphin - the Sea Turtle.  

Yes, the dreaded Sea Turtle with it's fangs and claws and armored dorsal fin.  I didn't really fully comprehend the menace this mammal is to mankind and the fate of the world in general until I saw this Merril Streape movie in which she cries in the dark "Sea Turtles took my baby!"  For you see, manflesh is like chocolate to these bastards.  

Luckily we have two...no three... three fearsome weapons at our disposal:

1.  Like the British, we can forment increased dolphin vs. sea turtle violence - they naturally hate one another like the Lichens and the Vampires.  Let them fight and kill themselves out.

2.  Seaturtle.org allows you to satellite track your sponored sea turtle.  Well that means we have coordinates and I have a big red button that I can press.  When I press it it says "That Was Easy!" and I'm told by the acne crusted gentleman who sold it to me that everytime I press it a 155mm artillery shell is launched at a dolphin.  I acquired this miracle device for a song, I think - only $2,900.  Right?  Prrreetty sweet.

3.  Fanatical devotion to the Pope.

What Can I Get For $700,000,000,000?

You know what I can get?  This:

THIS MANY: 2.80112045 × 10¹⁰

Ha Ha - Suckers!

Fucking Retards.

No really - that's it - I hate fucking retards and their bike helmets and bagging my groceries.

But dolphins are pretty dumb too.  A family of 15 have been stuck in the New Joisey Navesink River since the summer and one of them just washed up dead - today.  Score(s)!  They must've made a wrong turn in Albequerque because now the "experts" and "marine scientists" are debating how to rescue them.  I say kill 'em all and let the Flying Spaghetti Monster sort them out.  You know how a loveable scamp of a stray voiced by Michael J. Fox or some other cripple makes it home on some sort of trek when his owners leave him behind?  Didn't anyone ever say "Hey, where's the two dogs and the cat we own?"  Major plot flaw.  Regardless of that Disney saccharine vomit, you never hear a story of a dolphin "making it home again."  They just get stuck and give up.  Which is encouraging because if this trend persists, we got a genocide on our hands.  But a good one.  Not like what the Inuit did to the Norse Settlers of Greenland.  That was our white person land, thank you very much.

Read and be wowed:

http://www.venganza.org/

Here's the article of the stupid dolphins from Newsday - which comes to me as a surprise that this periodical even exists anymore...

http://www.newsday.com/news/local/wire/newjersey/ny-bc-nj--waywarddolphins0924sep24,0,4101388.story

Best Book Ever.

So I guess this guy, Herm Edwards wrote an expose of the whaling industry in the 13th century called "Moby Dick".  Oh shit!  Remember writing book reports in 5th Grade and the rules were you had to underline a book title?  I totally just didn't do that.  So Moby Dick is freaking awesome.  I haven't gotten to the end yet, but I'm assuming there will be a whale slaughter of unprecedented awesomeness to cap off what has already been a quite enjoyable read.  I'm at the part now where the guy goes "Call me Ishmael".  Fucking hardcore sweet, right?  I can't wait to see how this ends.

(SEVEN HOURS LATER)

FUCK!   (Spoiler Alert) - The Whale sinks the boat and everyone dies except Ichabod.

Bummer.

Dolphins Sabotaged Travis Barker!

I knew it.  It was only a matter of time before they struck again...  Apparently last night, some dolphin terrorists sabotaged the Lear Jet (I fly Gulfstream, myself) that was set to take former Blink-176 accordionist Travis Barker and iPod press-player DJ AM from SC to CA.  The plane skid across the runway, through a fence, across a road, stopped at a Wendy's drive-in then hit an embankment.  Columbia, SC authorities said that they had seen "long trails of water, discarded crab carcasses and a Flipper DVD" in the hangar that had stored the plane.

My take on it:  Jealous of the success of 1999's "Enema of the State" and the fact that Nicole Richie's vagina is looser than a blowhole, dolphin terrorists spiked the JP-5 with sea water (and judging by the severity of the fire, I'd say they obtained the water from the Persian Gulf - I mean that's basically 94% kerosene anyway) and the engines flamed out, causing a catastrophic occurrence of "gravity + flammable liquid".

Oh - and for those of you tsk-tsking "this is in such bad taste", may I add perspective:

Two rich people flying in a multimillion dollar private greenhouse gas machine are burned.

40+ people died when a car bomb exploded outside the Islamabad Marriot.  40 working people who are not in possession of an aircraft that even leased runs roughly $1,000 per hour MORE than the GDP per Capita of Pakistan ($2,600).

So there.

Princess Di - Rich, killed extravagantly by Dolphins.

JFK Jr. - Rich, killed spectacularly by Dolphins.

Rainer Wolfcastle - Rich, fictional animated character.

If the dolphins keep killing rich people, I might have to change the name of this website.

Oh My Crap!

How can this possibly get worse?  First, they're crippling our economy and causing hurricanes - Oh - I didn't mention that?  Dolphins get together with other like minded fishes and swim in groups upwards of 2 million in giant hundred mile circumference cicles creating a whirlpool that due to the sea mist's interaction with the atmosphere, causes the spiraling effect of the hurricane's cloud pattern.  What a bunch of douches.  And all this time you thought it was a butterfly flapping its wings in China.  Everyone knows the only thing that causes is my ex to blow whoever's walking past her apartment.

Anyway, I divest.  No - wait - I wish I divested.  But I didn't...  So instead of writing this from my Gulfstream IX, I'm only writing it from the back of an S65AMG.  Ooopsy!

Oh - so here's why I said "Oh My Crap!" -

WTC?!??!  Sorry - Meant WTF.  WTC stands for something that I'm supposed to Never Forget (TM) but somehow have.  So the dolphins are either A) sentient extraterrestial beings who really want to communicate with a pink liquid filled Ed Harris or B) in league with Industrial Light Magic and have a kickass FX budget.  I cannot fathom what evil this portends.  Or pretends. Or pretence.  Or pretensioners.  Or the Pretenders.  Or the Predator.  Or the Prenatal Care Unit.  Or Law and Order: SVU.  Or  Survivor Gabon.  Or Zsa Zsa Gabor.  Or Gabbo.  

Dolphin CEOs Will Rape The Nation!

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Walruses - You're On The List, Too

According to that ever reliable and never fabricated English publication The Sun, Walruses in the Tokyo aquarium hold "Jam Sessions".  Unless your name is Miles, Monk or Mingus, you are not allowed to have a jam session.  Inevitably these jam sessions, especially if you're white and suburban begin under the auspices of assembling musically like-minded people for some creative fun and ultimately devolve into five guitarists sitting on a couch with a king size bag of Doritos, a bong and the season two DVDs of Aqua Teen Hunger Force.  I can only assume that since walruses look like the two most whitest people on earth, Jamie Hyneman and Adam Savage that indeed, this jam session will sound like this:

"Man, I really love 'St. Stephen'".

"Me too... pass it this way."

"Giggle".

http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/news/article1687109.ece

Done Broke My Hand

I done broke my word hand Thursday night.  Basically I was walking down the street and there was this gorgeous woman.  Stunning but she seemed to be in distress.  A gang of street thugs were accosting her so I did the right thing - I crossed the street against the light and went into another bar.  

Later that evening though, while taking the water taxi for some reason that may have made sense at the time, it was my turn to be assaulted.  Five or six fucking dolphins leapt from the water on to the deck of the boat.  The beasts were so near I could smell the tuna on their breath.  Scanning the boat, I ascertained that my best option for improvised weaponry would be the inflatable vest to my right.  As I was about to jam the vest down the throat of the dolphin I assumed to be the leader, one of the minions fucking flipper smacked me.  I slid backwards across the deck and arose like an angered sea god from pagan times.  Charging the fish, I double foot kicked the main one a la Eric Cantona while simltaneously throwing the life vest into the maw of one of the others.  After taking a quick bouce to my feet, I pulled the rip cord to self inflate the vest upon which the other one was choking.  He exploded and the concussion cast his compatriots careering into the cay.  

Pretty exciting, huh?

Oh - right - the hand.  While writing the post-action report at the station house (and yes, my dolphin extermination campaign has a station house) I dropped a pencil on the floor and my secretary Janine, while sweet despite the caustic NY accent, rolled over my pinky with a handtruck.

Dolphin Taxi Drivers

As a New Yorker, often you encounter a taxi driver with a less than stellar grasp of the English language.  I'm not saying there's anything wrong with that, I'm just saying it leaves something to be desired.  Actually, I AM saying there's something wrong with that - these dirty immigrants and foreigners are taking jobs that Americans could but do not want to do.  We shouldn't have taxis then.  That's the true American way - if it's too hard or too menial and no one else will do it, then it should never get done.  (That sorta sounded like the opening speech of the A-Team were it written by Camus).  

So the South Asian drivers - yeah, they ain't that good - but the worst by far are the Dolphin drivers.  Allow my to portray a short vignette, a la the Bard.  Not Bard College - that's a bunch of Dykes - almost as bad as Barnard where that slut went.  I mean the Bard like Billy Shakes.  That's how I knew him when I was an Elizabethan noble.  This is like the fourth time I've time traveled in my asides, and for some reason I always end up in an elaborate era of English history.  Crap - am I a closet Anglophile?  I mean, I was an AngloPHILE if you know what I mean until she let other guys' philes into her anglo...  Shit - the short nonsensical play about nothing...  BACK TO ACTION!  

Me: Uh, yeah, 43rd between tenth and eleventh...

Dolphin Cabbie:  (falls out of cab, dies of dessication)

Me: Cool - free Crown Vic / Hybrid Escape / Honda Odyssey

Actually - I guess I sorta like dolphin cabbies.  That was a roundabout way to come to an ultimately simple conclusion.

oh.

that and happy giuliani day!

!

A Momentary Time Out

OK - I support our troops.  I like when they kill things.  It makes me Toby Keith Proud.

Thus I give you:

http://www.cafepress.com/ArmyPoppins

So spread the word!  A real post soon.

(Also this too: http://www.cafepress.com/Nanoo4_Hoth)

My Rage Knows No Bounds!

Except maybe Gina Gershon in Bound.  

So you know who's not off the hook, obvious forthcoming pun notwithstanding?  Manatees.  Too long have they plagued our coastal waterways with their lollygagging, loitering and lethargic lagunal lounging.  Didn't even need a thesaurus for that one - just came fully grown like Athena, straight from the noggin.  Without all the incest and beastiality that was prevalent amongst the Olympians.  Now the Norse - those were some badass raping gods.  

Manatees - right.  The name Manatee by itself is enough to hate them.  It is derived from manati, a Caino Indian word meaning beast that predates Cristobal Colon.  You hear that?  Well, obviously you didn't hear it unless you have some sort of text to speech device - instead you just read it.  In bold.  So that a point has been made.  Beasts are to be exterminated like the Caino were.  With extreme predjudice and racism with a healthy dash of prostelytizing them with the word of the one true God.  Kali-Ma.  

ALL HAIL LORD DARK GODDESS KALI-MA.

(Pulls out stone, puts next to other stone, burns hands, drops stone, cuts rope bridge)

OK - Maybe Kali-Ma wasn't the best bet for a conversion tool.  I know what I'll do.  I'll hook the manatees up to a fake machine that tells you you're stressed so you'll buy books and maybe eventually buy the machine itself.  Man.  What a fucking scam that would be.  It would be like a modern day charlatan - recapturing the ethos of the 19th Century American Tent Revivals where pastor/preacher/con artist would plant people in his audience and "cure" them.  If only I could invent a modern day fake religion where wealthy adherents just showered you with money to learn the next steps of the invented ideology.  What a brilliant idea.  

One problem though - if I do invent a fake machine that tells you what the manatee is feeling and it happens to be electrically powered, I might shock the manatees.  Then I wouldn't know who they're feeling and thus couldn't squeeze them for more money.  But then again, I would have killed several manatees which I guess ultimately is the goal.  So I guess I'll take my fake machine and see if it works on people. 

Sincerely,

Elrond Hubber

dammit - I only hit'em 5 times!

Enemies of Humanity, Part IV: Pamela Anderson

The litany of reasons behind Ms. Baywatch's nomination for the category of outstanding douchery are many.  We can go into so many different facets of Anderson's complex, er, personality but let's start with the first and easiest.

She's a Fucking Canadian.  That's right, the rack that launched a thousand tissues - or that a thousand tissues were launched into - is a Canuck.  A Queeb.  A British Columbian.  A Saskatoonie.  From our soon to be hostile neighbor to the north, the mediocre backwater of Canadia.  Let's go into some stats about Canada that may shock and amuse you.

On a whole, Canadians average one foot shorter in height than Americans.

The Canadian diet consists mostly of dog meat.

In all of Canada, there is only one helicopter and it's owned by the Montreal Canadien hockey team.

The national sport of Canada is Murderball.

These reasons alone would make Pamela Anderson, as the official face - well not "face" per se - more like "cans" - as the official Cans of Canada and no enemy to humanity but noooo.... She has to go and do the unthinkable.  Join PETA.  Even though it stands for "People Eating Tasty Animals", PETA is actually against that (AWESOME) stuff.  And against fur which is so warm and comfy.  And against of course, abusing for fun and profit the maritime mammals.  I'm sure those PETA fucks could care less about the noble Manta Ray or the proud and intelligent and evolutionary stalwart Horseshoe Crab.  "Get on the train", the PETA hypocrites probably shout.  But god forbid a cold blooded click factory like a dolphin gets caught in a net.  If they're so fucking smart, how are they getting caught in nets?  I mean really - when has a net ACTUALLY ever worked on a human.  I'm sure in Roman times, like 200 years ago, when the Gladiators were hanging out back stage or back collesium or whatever and it was time to be issued weapons for the show, all of them were saying "please don't give me the trident and net, please don't give me the trident and net, please don't - FUCK - crap.  There goes my life.  I got the fucking trident and net... what did you end up with Masculinius Crapbeateria?"  "Uh, I got a helmet, a shield, and a sword, comrade Pussilickium Deadonarrivalus.  Did you end up with.... (falls into uncontrollable laughter) - the (pauses to regain breath) the net!?"

That's from actual history written by actual Romans in Hieroglyphics translated from the Rosetta Stone.  The DVDs called Rosetta Stone told me that.  

Back to Pammycakes.  Pamela Anderson was awarded PETA's Linda McCartney award for blah blah blah whatever it might be about.  Now so long as she wasn't awarded the Heather McCartney-Mills award for motorcycle handling skills, she would have a leg to stand on.  

It was really sad when they made Rosetta Stone ride the back of the bus back in the 50s.