Showing posts with label Wendy's. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wendy's. Show all posts

Sunday, April 19, 2020

Covered in Blood


I walk into battle covered in blood
Smelling like ashes, smelling like rum
Looking like the deep fried walking dead
Looking for relief from what’s in my head
I see you on the other side of the street
You could be a mirage from the heat
Or you could be laughing like a jackass
Earning your place among the maggots
I take a bite out of your delicious throat
More pig’s blood to cover me like a coat
Rip out your heart, hell, your whole ribcage
You scream like you’re three years of age
You’ve got some serious pipes for a wimp
Are you sure you don’t belong to a pimp?
If you can feel the pain, you’re still alive
Let’s turn up that shit to a hundred and five
Slurping down your brain through the sockets
Make you fuck your eyes with your own rocket
Pull out intestines and watch the shit flow
Share your corpse with the ravens and crows
The funny thing about this nutritious meal
I get dessert as part of the dinner deal
Who will suffice? Your daughter or wife?
Hell, they left your ass for a much better life
I’ll save my coupons for another day
More satisfying than Mickey D’s anyway
The king of burgers has nothing on this
Sweeter than the redheaded Wendy’s kiss
Pay you tomorrow for a carcass today
My belly is stuffed with violent decay
I burp like a fifteen megaton blast
Nickelodeon slime pouring from my ass
Until next time, try to enjoy the daylight
Try to make it fun, put up a better fight

Wednesday, April 8, 2020

Goodbye Bill Maher


***GOODBYE BILL MAHER***

I’ve had this topic idea on the shelf for over a year now. Anyone who’s known me for a long time knows that Bill Maher was at one point one of my favorite comedians and political commentators. I saw him perform in Seattle in 2013, which was also the same night where we couldn’t find the car afterwards, but that has nothing to do with this post. So when I finally say goodbye to Bill Maher in 2019, you know he must have done something incredibly shitty in order to lose my respect. Actually, it wasn’t just one thing he said or did. It slowly built up over the last few years. And yeah, one could argue that he was always obnoxious and bigoted from the beginning, but it wasn’t really noticeable until the latter years of the 2010’s. So…where do I start this lovely story?

In 2006, of course. That was when I saw my first episode of Real Time with Bill Maher. I can’t remember for the life of me what some of his jokes or talking points were, but I found them fucking hilarious and on-point. I decided from that point going forward that I would make watching his show a weekly ritual. Despite all of the wacky conservatives he sometimes invited on his panel, the show overall was fun to watch, especially the New Rules segment.

New Rule: You can’t bring a firearm to Wendy’s unless you plan to rob it. You’re not a gun enthusiast. You’re an ammosexual. If you want to die at Wendy’s so badly, you’ll have to do it the old fashioned way by eating their food.

New Rule: Couples who make out in public have to bring a bucket for me to throw up in. I didn’t come all the way to Applebee’s to be sickened by your dry humping. I came all the way to Applebee’s to be sickened by their food.

New Rule: Ice cream should stay nonpartisan. Some rightwingers decided to make ice cream to counter the lefties at Ben & Jerry’s with flavors like Gun Nut, Plane Vanilla, and Smaller Govern-Mint. But these conservatives are missing the point of Ben & Jerry’s. Hippie ice cream is fun because you eat it when you’re stoned.

New Rule: If churches don’t have to pay taxes, they also can’t call the fire department when they catch on fire. Sorry Reverend, but that’s one of those services that comes with paying in. I’ll use the fire department that I pay for. You can pray for rain.

Thirteen years I stuck with Bill Maher through the good and the bad. He entertained me, he strengthened by talking points, and I felt more alive having watched his shows. But then…something happened. Again, maybe he was always an obnoxious person and I didn’t notice it until now, but over the past few years, he had gotten worse. He began to criticize millennials. He began to make transphobic arguments. He rallied against vaccines. He fat-shamed people in the name of “good health”. He did all of these things behind a mask of virtue. He marketed himself as a liberal hero even though he’s actually a capitalist libertarian. I hung on his every word because of that. If anyone else had said the things he did, I would have given up on them sooner. But coming from Bill Maher, I secretly hoped it was a one-time thing that we could disagree on.

But the god-awful remarks weren’t one-offs. They happened over and over again across multiple shows, sometimes in succession. I kept struggling to find counterpoints to his arguments, not because I was wrong in my beliefs, but because his disgusting shit was stressing me the fuck out. He called millennials lazy and entitled (therefore proving his own point that ageism is the last acceptable prejudice we have). He called fat people virgins who couldn’t see their own dicks. He said transgender athletes were ruining sports (even though the sports were already boring with or without their participation). He referred to Caitlyn Jenner by masculine pronouns. If I listed off all of Bill Maher’s sins against my ears, we’d be here forever and a day.

But one night in January 2019 made me turn off the TV forever. I can’t remember the exact date, but Bill Maher did a New Rules segment where he basically exploited Stan Lee’s death. In criticizing comic book fans, he said, “I’m not happy that he’s dead; I’m sad that you’re all alive.” He took the role of creative gatekeeper, denouncing genre fiction (sci-fi, fantasy, romance, etc.) and exalting literary fiction no matter how boring it was. In that one segment, Bill Maher took a big dump on everything that I love as a creative writer. He shamed nerds for being passionate about what they love and told them to, “Grow up.” After that segment was mercifully over, I tapped out. No more Bill Maher for me. My parents still watch him, but I don’t. I can’t associate myself with people who demand conformity from their audience.

Ever since I cut myself off from Bill Maher’s content, I’ve never been happier. Of course, there will be people who insist I watch his show anyways so that I can get new perspectives and strengthen my debating skills. But what’s the point of strengthening my debating skills if the other side won’t listen? Bill Maher criticizes millennials all the time for being unable to take a joke, yet here he is deflecting criticism himself. He’s against cancel culture, yet doesn’t mind canceling people who disagree with him. I purposefully avoid political debates with even my closest friends, because in the end, it’s not productive and only results in furious anger on both sides. I want to be open-minded, but I’m not sure people like Bill Maher want to do that themselves. Open-mindedness is a two-way street. If I have to listen to your bigoted garbage, you have to listen to my talking points too. If debate can’t be a two-way street for me, then I’ll turn it into a no-way street. How’s that?

Bill Maher influenced my sense of humor in the early days of his show. I don’t regret that. I also don’t regret leaving him for higher ground. There are so many great comedians and pundits out there. John Oliver is one of them and he’s on the same channel as Bill Maher, if you can believe that. He’s delightfully British, ridiculously funny, and has a healthy dose of self-awareness. What about The Young Turks? They’re not comedians, but their talking points are strong as hell, almost bulletproof. Their skin is so thick that they welcome debate because they know they can win. Samantha Bee? Not nearly as funny as John Oliver, but she’s entertaining all the same. You might have to go out of your way to find alternatives to Bill Maher, but they exist and you’ll be grateful you did.

So…I’m going to close this by saying goodbye one last time to one of my all-time favorite influences. Goodbye, Bill Maher. We’ve had a good run together. You used to be cool. But I don’t like the person you’ve become. I don’t expect you to change your ways anytime soon. No, I don’t want you to be canceled. You don’t have to lose your job over the things you’ve said. All I’ll ever ask from you is self-awareness. If you’re going to be a shitty person, admit it to your audience and don’t hide behind a mask of liberalism. You won’t do that, though, because you’re stuck in your ways. Maybe it’s a Boomer thing, I don’t know. I guess that makes ageism “the last acceptable prejudice we have”. Then again, you started that war, so don’t be upset when you’re the one who has to finish it. Goodbye. Goodbye and forever!


***QUOTE OF THE DAY***

It has been said, 'the truth will make men free.' The truth alone has never made anyone free. It is only doubt which will bring mental emancipation.”

-Anton LaVey-

Thursday, January 17, 2019

Keyboard Cops


CHORUS
Bad boys, bad boys
Watchu gonna do?
Watchu gonna do when they troll for you?

VERSE 1
When you were eighteen
And you were edgy
You joke on Twitter
Now you’re in the shitter
Joke on Face Book
Like an internet crook
If you get flamed
Then you are to blame

CHORUS
Bad boys, bad boys
Watchu gonna do?
Watchu gonna do when they troll for you?

VERSE 2
You joke about this guy
You joke about that guy
You joke about the shit
Everybody throws a fit
You joke about death
About the final breath
You joke about things
That make people sting

CHORUS
Bad boys, bad boys
Watchu gonna do?
Watchu gonna do when they troll for you?

VERSE 3
Nobody’s going to give you a break
They’ll just call you a snowflake
They’ll just call you a mistake
To see how much you can take

CHORUS
Bad boys, bad boys
Watchu gonna do?
Watchu gonna do when they troll for you?

VERSE 4
Why did they have to act so mean
Behind the glow of a computer screen?
Born to roast like the chick from Wendy’s
You’ve got nothing left worth defending
I know sometimes you want to give up
I know sometimes you’ve gone and fucked up

CHORUS
Bad boys, bad boys
Watchu gonna do?
Watchu gonna do when they troll for you?

NARRATOR
Keyboard Cops is filmed on location with the boys and girls of the internet. All suspects are guilty until they apologize profusely and even then it won’t be enough.

Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Two-Sentence Horror Stories

Susan’s alarm clock went off at seven in the morning and she was slowly sitting up in her comfy beddy-bye. When her eyes finally adjusted to the glaring sunlight, she saw the Burger King mascot sitting next to her in bed where her ten-year-old daughter normally was.

Little Maria was playing in the sandbox by herself with her lovable stuffed rabbit and her Winnie the Pooh Pillow Pet. The shadow of a perverted old man in a trench coat appeared over her as he whispered the words, “I can’t wait until you turn 18!”

Stephanie McMahon’s relentless slaps across The Big Show’s face were stinging with orange hot pain. Big Show retaliated by clutching Stephanie’s throat, not to give her his patented choke slam, but to shove a date rape drug down her throat.

Mario ran as fast as his chubby body would carry him as he pilfered the golden key from the evilly grinning Phanto. The sinister mask finally caught up to him and with one monstrous chomp bit Mario’s ear off like Mike Tyson.

The baldheaded and bloodthirsty Calcobrena puppets came to life and started dancing like they were performing in the world’s scariest ballet. The urine stain in Cecil’s pants was so damp that he would need a Sham Wow to soak up the stale fluids.

Rosa curled in the corner and shivered as the disgusting and perverted Dr. Lugae slowly approached her. He leaned his disfigured face close to her tear-soaked face and said, “Are you wearing a Milk Duds bra?”

Wanderlei Silva was flipping through the pages of the ultra-sexy Ronda Rousey’s ESPN photo shoot magazine with Matt Brown looking over his shoulder. Wanderlei said, “Ronda sure looks good.” and Matt Brown replied with, “Tastes good too, bro!”

Tarja Turunen received her 501st letter and it revealed a picture of her naked and butchered husband Marcelo Cabuli bound with chains and ball gagged. Below the picture were the words written in Floydian font: “Leave him for me…or else!”

G-Switch had been stripped naked and sprayed with a cold hose as his prison cell awaited him for what would be a life sentence. When it came time to give him his uniform, he didn’t get an orange jumpsuit, but a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader outfit instead.

The frightened and defenseless Tina huddled in the dark corner while her attacker slowly approached her with a club in his hand. The lights flickered on to reveal the assailant as Drew Carey in a black banana hammock, who went on to say, “Welcome to Who’s Life Is It Anyway, where everything’s made up and the points are as useless as your cries for help!”

Todd knelt and sobbed over the bloody remains of his butchered wife. The torturer put a hand on the poor husband’s shoulder and gave him some good news: “I just saved a bunch of money on car insurance by switching to Geico.”

Gail was called into the massage therapist’s office for what was sure to be a relaxing and joyful experience. That all changed when she found out her massage therapist was Jeffrey Dahmer, who just got off of his “lunch break” and was back on the clock.

Charles had just devoured a delicious Chinese meal of fried sole, egg drop soup, and creamed broccoli. When he opened his fortune cookie, the little strip of paper read, “Thank you for eating at Hannibal Lector’s Golden Grill.”

Dave had just been served a scrumptious plate of Chinese fried rice and pork chow mein by the lovely smiling waitress. When he asked for a fork, however, the waitress pulled one out of her apron and stabbed him in the hand repeatedly until the metal utensil went all the way through.

Staci was tied to the street post with sharp steel chains and gagged with a horse mask. The only people who would come to her rescue were religious protestors who were holding up rainbow-colored signs that said, “God hates gags.”

With a dirty old man in lingerie chasing her across the parking garage, Elizabeth tripped over her high heeled shoes and lost one of them in the process. When the old man got close enough, he went after the shoe instead and took a huge sniff of the fetishized footwear.

Ronald McDonald approached the checkout isle of the grocery store with a basket full of goodies. Among the items purchased in unison were a bottle of lotion, a box of tissues, and a copy of Teen Cosmopolitan magazine.

Terrance approached the speaker box at Wendy’s and placed the following order: “I’d like a bowl of chili with a finger in it, a double bacon cheeseburger with human jerky, and an unsweetened iced tea with a woman’s big toe floating near the top.” Without missing a beat, the clerk on the other end of the speaker said, “If everything on the screen is correct, that’ll be $8.99 at the first window.”

Jerry and Sonya stripped each other of their clothing for a night of intimate romance. To get the lovemaking started, Jerry said in an African accent, “I am the captain now!”

Jeremiah was busy in the barn milking the cow when Uncle Zeb entered with a disgusted look on his face and said, “That’s a bull, son.” Jeremiah smiled at the farm master and said, “I knew that.”

A hefty mall cop entered Victoria’s Secret looking for a man named Victor Timothy. When the sexy brunette clerk shortened the two given names and put them together, it became painfully clear to her what the mall cop was really looking for.

The photo shoot for the No H8 campaign required that the celebrities in question, Daniel Bryan and Brie Bella, put duct tape on their mouths as a form of protest against bullying. When all the needed pictures were taken, the photographer then produced two more “protest props”: a black leather gimp hood and a red rubber ball gag.

William took a bite of cherry pie and thought it was so delicious that he needed to know the ingredients. Jenny leaned her face seductively into his and listed the ingredients as rhubarb, chocolate-covered cherries, cane sugar, orange juice, and finally…the minced remains of William’s mother.

The charismatic spokesman for Metro PCS bounced a purple metal ball around with the message that phone service was only $40, period. After he continually drove home the point of “period power”, he was brutally run over by a semi-truck delivering Kotex products.

Thomas took a swig of chocolate milk and immediately had the urge to vomit himself inside out. When he looked at the milk jug, not only did the expiration date say January 2nd, 1904, but the brand name was “Honey Bucket”.

Richard was told that a Playboy Bunny was waiting for him at the Motel 6 for a night of “sensual action”. When he opened the door, he got an entirely different kind of bunny: a 300 lb. mountain man in a Bugs Bunny outfit wielding a morning star.

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Burger King Dreams



Regardless of what city I’m visiting in my dreams, there always seems to be a Burger King right up the street. I wouldn’t even have to ask for a ride, I could just walk and that Triple Whopper with Cheese is as good as mine. There was even one dream where UFC fighter Chael Sonnen gave me a cut of his post-fight bonus to go eat at Burger King. He said it was the closest thing to socialism that I would ever get in my lifetime. Nice guy, huh? But let’s talk about this strange archetype for a moment. Why Burger King? Why not McDonald’s, Wendy’s, or Sonic? Could it have something to do with the fact that going to Burger King was a weekend ritual for me during high school? I’ve had lots of high school dreams, so Burger King might be the link I’m looking for. Every weekend during my junior and senior years of high school, my dad would give me a ten dollar bill and I would walk to Burger King to get a Triple Whopper with Cheese. This was obviously before I was eligible for social security, so I needed that ten dollars. When I was packing on weight in a big fucking hurry, he stopped giving me ten dollar bills. It wouldn’t have mattered anyways, because now that I’ve been receiving disability benefits since 2004, I spend most of my money on restaurants and convenience stores. That’s right, folks. My life is so lackluster that the only source of entertainment I have is chowing down on processed meats and cheeses. I take one bite of a greasy hamburger and all my depressive pain goes away. But once the meal is over, I have to find another fix and dinner won’t be for another few hours. Then what? It’s funny that I have all of these writing projects to do and all these books to read on my shelf, yet eating at a fast food restaurant is more fun than doing either of those two things. When someone asks me to read a book, I’m conveniently “mentally exhausted”. But when my step-father is going out for a grocery run and asks me if I need to stop anywhere, my mental energy suddenly comes back to me. In a way, cheap food has become my painkiller, which is funny, because when I started writing this blog entry, I was listening to “Painkiller” by Three Days Grace. But you know what else is a painkiller for me? Writing and reading. The feeling of accomplishment I get from both of those activities will last me for at least the rest of the day. The difference between creative activities and eating is that eating is readily available when I need it. Creativity takes more time. I’m not a patient man, so I choose fast food over writing and reading. This is obviously the wrong path to choose since I have a saggy tummy and big cheeks. But you know what? Until somebody provides me with a solution that’s more permanent than a pep talk, I’m going to keep going down this road. It’s sad and unfortunate, but this is who I am. Food has become a part of me in more ways than just eating it.

 

***DOMESTIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“Garrison likes his books like he likes his food: fast and cheap.”

-Susan Wilson-