As I have been quite busy with my personal life, I wasn't able to find the time to write an article for you all this week. So, in my place, here is some hilarious footage of a 60 year old man blowing up on a bunch of 9/11 conspiracy theorists, as they protest outside of City Hall. Videos are behind the cut.
Google did WTC 1
Google did WTC 2
Google did WTC
Herza's 'Tuesday Tyranny' Episode 1: God, are you there?
I'll start this entry with a word of warning: Don't expect anything great, this entry is the result of 10 seconds of brainstorming. Also, it will be short. Pretty fucking short. You see me typing random crap to make it look longer? Yeah, it's gonna be that short. Anyhoo, let's get on with the damn entry.
Today, I had religion class. Yes, Christian religion. Protestantic Christian religion. "But Mister Herzapplikator", you might ask, "Why would you go to their classes?" Well, for one, it's more fun than the other subjects. It basically gives you two hours of singing, fun, and sleep every week. Other than that, it gives you an inside view. You learn about their beliefs, their festivities (Like the infamous "Look, Jesus died!" or the "OMG, Zombie Jesus returned" day, just 3 days after that. Some of those fags even travel 3 digit amounts of miles on said days, only to get themselves crucified for 5 minutes).
Fun Fact: Hundreds of murderers died on the cross, so it would get them closer to THEM, not Jesus.
Fun Fag: Ioji
Also, our teacher is damn sexy. I mean, he's male, but his grin and his hair, his soft voice....
Our topic was "Time". The thing Christianity revolves around. He wanted us to get together in groups of four, choose jobs, and write about their working time. After half a minute of thinking, I chose a pastor. Five days of doing whatever you want, one evening of preparation, one hour of work. Probably the best job ever. Needless to say, the teacher wasn't quite as amazed as I was. He's a pastor himself, in some small village nearby. His world was shattered, as he said "You have a completely wrong picture there." I was about to rant about his religion, but I managed to stop, ending the conversation with a simple "We didn't even draw a fucking picture!".
Now, you may wonder why I told you about that stuff, and the answer is simple: It's Tuesday, and there was nothing to write about.
LTDW Part II
Like the continent of Atlantis, the Girls Only Forum has sunk into the massive shithole that is Warbears.com. Without their useless piece of internet real estate, many Wargirls will likely starve to death, due to lack of masturbating themselves to Mandy praise; and utterly shallow conversations. Even though it is in the past; it is my duty to unearth the ancient artifacts, of their once thriving civilization of lolz. And so; LE TOUR DU WARGIRLS lives on!
As we know; Mandy conceived WarGirls, to protect innocent 10 year old girls from the harsh, cold clutches of reality. It is in such an environment that the WarGirls operated; that idiosyncratically created an abominable cluster of morons, incapable of self-thought. But; their cluelessness and inability to discern that someone may be aware of their acts, led myself to discover a treasure trove of lulz that lay at the foundation of their retarded group orgy. Had their forum not been deleted; it would have been the perfect opportunity to dissect each and every one of their blissfully unaware babblings. Alas; life is tough for a Warfag, and I can only interpret what once was WarGirls.
Of course; the most epic of epic traits of the typical WarGirl; is her blind allegiance to My Chemical Romance (or MCR, because words over five letters are far to complex to repeatedly chant for the average WG) despite the fact that they are the worst product of the music industry since, well, let's just leave it at “they're crap.” In fact as illustrated here:
They obviously can't get enough of MCR's uninspired, emo, chart-topping hits. As stated above there was not one, but TWO lengthy topics about MCR; AND a “Girls Rock – Music” forum that no doubt contained many-a-MCR-crooning; despite the existance of a somewhat unbiased topic in the music section. Apparently Wargirls do not like to be subject to diverse opinions.
But, any of the disturbed locals could assure you; the topics are monumentally different, i.e. One has a poll. The exact poll is something like “Who is the fittest guy in MCR” which is sad considering they are all unhealthily frail(starving yourself much?). So, their reasoning for such excessive MCR banter, is that one topic is talking about their music; and another is talking about the band itself, or some sort of illogical Bullshit.
Even considering their enthusiasm, they barely managed to discuss anything. Both topics dragged on, with one member saying they like MCR and all the other members quoting and agreeing with them, even if the had already confirmed that they were fans. This would continue until another hapless girl walked into their trap, and it restarted; like some sort of recurring nightmare. In fact the entire forum embodied this structure; as if they were so mentally challenged they were only able to garner the most basic of functions. A god damn single-celled organism has more character depth then the cookie-cutter failures of WG.
Well, thanks for reading once again. Be prepared for more rantings, as I detail the obscure ruins of WG in; LE TOUR DE WARGIRLS!
Suicide and Other Comforts
This a personal narrative by the local resident of Ithaca, the one and only Covet. So listen up all you fucks, its been a wild ass ride.
So, last week, I started my day like I always do. I drank some rum when I rolled out of bed at 3 p.m.. I couldn't remember what happened the night prior, which leads me to believe it involved me missing work, again. I told those bitches at Tops I could only work night shifts. Anyways, I pushed this whore off me and went to the bathroom. I felt like I pissed my brains out. What didn't get in the bowl sprayed all over the seat and on the walls and in the rubbish bin.
I then went and fixed myself a drink of rum with some orange juice and proceeded to watch goat porn. The whore on the bed rolled around for a while, got up and left. Fuck her anyways, she'll be back later. They always come back. Well, after I watched some goat porn, and finished my drink, I got dressed and left. I had things to do.
I got into my car, a banana yellow Yugo GV, and drove across town to a place I go when I need pills. I walked up to the house, knocked politely and Harold answered. Thats Ricks base slave from way back. He does a great job of shining the niggers shoes and cleaning around the toilet bowl. I knew I had to get me one of them. So Rick gave me the usual, a few pellets of Mescaline, a bag of Screamers and a Visine bottle of acid.
I took the Mescaline straight away, payed the man and left. Back on the road, in the car, I drove down route 13, and then the drugs began to take hold of me. At first it just edged around the sides, something like a bag being dragged over your head, but then it became something more defined. I looked out my rear view mirror to see that I was being chased by lions. An entire pride of lions had escaped the zoo and were now chasing me down the highway. I of course sped up, but I knew the car could never escape the oncoming rush. Soon they were all around, biting and snipping at me, and one of them was riding with me. But he was ok, and he just chilled out and listened to Zombie Nation with me. He told me a lot about god and life and cats, and I very impressed with his knowledge.
After I got to my friends house around 6:30 p.m., we drank some more and we tore up his metaphysics thesis to use as blotter paper for the acid. After three hits, we laid on the floor and enjoyed the trip. Giant spiders lifted the roof off the ceiling and cocooned us in latex. Then we watched TV and drank vodka and then the TV became an eyeball. It just stared at us.
Later when when we recovered around 10 p.m. we went to the Second Floor on the commons. I ordered a Bloody Smurf and they didn't know what that was. After an hour when we were good and drunk, we went down the road to another bar. This one was packed and had a lot of people. I got some decent x and had them with a shot of gin. At some point I went outside and vomited on the side walk.
Later, around midnight, me and Joe went to the Haunt where we drank some more until 2 a.m., when they closed. We went with some stupid Cornel girls to their Sorority house where they had some Desoxyn, and we took a couple of tablets and had some group sex. After we fucked those bitches, drank all their beer and took all their drugs, we pissed on them while they slept. We then got into a cab and left. I just remembered at this point I had no idea where my car was.
We had the cabbie let us off at Forest Road around sunrise, where we found an anti-war poster comparing the deaths of Iraqi Citizens to Va Tech Students. It asked us if we could feel the pain of the Iraqi's, and I wrote on it, "No, Cause Sand Niggers Don't have feelings"
Well, we dropped more acid and started walking home. Thats when we noticed the stop sign was chasing us. We were so scared, but our legs felt weak. We knew the damn thing was after us. We just couldn't see it. So for 62 miles in enemy gook terrain, a Stop Sign followed us, whispering death in our ears. Some time later we got back to my place where me and Steve made out and fell on the floor. We couldn't sleep, so we did more drugs. My car was outside, but there was old people in it so we left it alone.
Around 8 a.m., we went and got pizza from a local shop. Despite the fact that I smelt urine, I ate the pie anyways and it was good. We then went down the road to Chandices house, and she gave us head and some beer. It was really good. Around noon we went to see a movie, but there was a Queen Alexandra Birdwing in the way. By now we were low on drugs and moved on wards. Breaking into a car we were able to steal a CD player and some loose cash. Its so great that no one locks their doors around here. We took this back to Ricks, and he exchanged it for more pills.
We ate our galaxy breakfast, had the base slave slob our nobs and then we went back out. By 5 p.m., we were back at the bars and by this point I lost track of things and couldn't concentrate. However, a green frog told me something really important that I can't remember and then I woke up.
I was in a jail cell naked and the officer on duty told me later I was running down the road screaming. I guess I shouldn't have taken those last screamers. Anyways, he gave me a smock and threw me out, and I stumbled towards the bus station where I got on and went home.
I took some GHB and went to sleep.
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