Moving to Tumblr

This blog has served me well, but Tumblr is the new way.
Please follow me there:  http://frenzyhunter.tumblr.com/

I'm not totally abandoning this blog, and maybe for some of my longer rantings I'll use it for those rare few who still enjoy reading long pieces.

Operation: Anti-Claus

Target: Saint Nicholas

Alias: Santa Claus

Age: Unknown

Occupation: Mad Scientist

Charges against Santa:

1. Kidnapping and genetic manipulation of midgets to have pointy ears and speak in cheery songs. Also known as "elving."

2. The enslavement of aforementioned midget mutants.

3. Illegal gamma radiation exposure experiments on reindeer.

4. Unlicensed, unregistered aircraft operation.

5. Millions of counts of breaking & entering.

6. Mass bootlegging of toy brands & pirating intellectual property.

7. Unlawful factory operation, theft of natural resources and environmental pollution.

8. Illegal surveillance and invasion of privacy of billions of children.

Below map is an outline of engagement and elimination of target. 

Disorient:
Parachute down to Rudolph. Sever his nose to disorient reindeer.

Shock:
Get to Santa with grappling hook. Snap his neck.

Eliminate: 
Tie toy bag to his leg. Push him out of sled into Arctic Ocean.

Commandeer: 
Guide reindeer back to The North Pole Military Base.

Infiltrate: 
Sleigh will make sneaking pass the defenses easy.

Eradicate: 
Set explosives in the factory and elf cottages.

Fornicate:
Free Mrs. Claus and deflower her.

Mission Accomplished.

Star Trek is Racist

You mean to tell me that you can travel ten times the speed of light, bend space, create sentient robots, a personal matrix, rearrange molecules to make food, destroy planets and completely defy the physics of the vacuum of space by hearing explosions and lasers in space, but the Black dude is blind? C'mon! I mean, is it just coincidence that in the future Kunta Kinte is disabled--you know, someone looked at differently? Just sayin...

Geordi LaForge. The BL_ _ _ Guy
And he never got laid. He couldn't even bang Whoopi Goldberg (of Captain Planet fame). And blindness is a prerequisite to bang her!

Whorf. The Former Thug Who Made It Outta Da Hood.
Black. Angry. Savage. Doesn't speak the same way he did while growing up. I see "stereotypecast" written all over this one. And he's a f@cking Uncle Tom sellout.

Data. Named After the Asian Kid from Goonies.
The robot. Uber smart. Yellow skin. Never smiles. How subtle. He was also built with an unnecessary penis, as he has used it. Robots with dicks? Sounds like a very Japanese thing to me. I'm just sayin'...

-------- Short Intermission ---------

Deanna Troi's fine ass single-handedly raised the stock value of lotion and tissue in the early 90s.

------- back to our regularly schedule program  --------

You'd think humans might be a bit more brown in the future. Apparently, humans will still believe in reproducing only with their own skin color. And you wonder why aliens don't come here. We're galactic trash. Racism in the supposedly most intelligent life form on the planet is the dumbest thing in the Cosmos.

p.s.

I wonder why there aren't any gay people in the future or in any other alien race.
Just sayin...

When Bums Collide

This story is probably only unique to New Yorkers.


Madam Mute Hunchback Eastern European Gypsy Lady with the Scarf on her Head, Carrying the Laminated Note Telling of Her Sick Child Back In Her Home Country.

She gets on the train. You know her. She's part of a clone army.

She works Lil Miss Surely Literate Bleeding Heart Backpacker Hippie Tourist Girl for at least half her trust fund. I thought the Hippie was going to cry right there and sing a Sarah Mclachlan song over this picture of a poor anonymous sick child. Madam Gypsy continued down the subway, getting paid in full.
But oh no! Guess who walks on?!

The Speech Bum. He's the one that announces, "Excuse me, everybody. I don't mean to bother you, but I'm homeless. I'm drug-free and I'm trying to get back on my feet. Every little bit counts. Even a penny." New Yorkers know Speech Bum. He's learned this spiel at some secret elitist homelessness society, and it works. Hippie Tourist Girl is like: Error. Error. This does not compute.


Madam Gypsy and Speech Bum see each other. Their eyes meet in a place you don't want to be invited. I thought they were going to square off in a Death Match. A panhandling manhandling. The awkward pause was thicker than tear gas in a sauna. 

Speech Bum squints. Tumbleweed slow motions by. He makes his move...to the next car. Madam Gypsy is giving the evil eye. She won't get any more money now. But maybe if she just waits a bit.


Nope. Murphy's Law stalks her. Drunkular Dystrophy Bum gets on. He's wobbling and SPITIFUL. He's "Speech Bum" gone full retard. "Excruh meh folk, I dun mee to buhvuh yoo...uh..." He forgets the rest. 

Madam Gypsy is curling up her index finger, about to put a "Drag Me to Hell" curse on somebody. Holding in my laughter was like holding back a rabid alley cat in heat.

The hilarity doesn't end there. It couldn't. Wouldn't. Not on a day like this one.

Next stop, the Busted Bucket Bongo Brothers get on. And they're making Hawaiian noises, banging on them bongos like a chimpanzee. That ain't working. That's the way you do it. They know how awesome iPod music sounds accompanied by un-synchronized drumming.

I don't think this story needs to go on. Let's just end it with: Only In New York.

The Pet Poop Police

Contrary to what would normally seem obvious, NYC sidewalks aren't made of concrete. They're made of centuries-worth of layers of a dog shit. New Yorkers let their canines crap anywhere.

Those days = Over.

Introducing a new agency in Homeland Security:

The Pet Poop Police.

Or more uncleverly known as PPP. 
Do not call them the Poo-leese.

First we'll start a DNA registry of all dogs at:

The Department of Dog DNA.

For lack of options, also known as the DDD...yet another agency in Homeland Security.

Dog DNA will be collected at pet purchase or birth and saved in a supercomputer database at DDD headquarters.


Register your canine. Or be fined.


Whenever there's unpicked poop on pedestrian premises, the PPP agent takes a sample of the pungent poo and sends it to the DDD. The DDD traces the doo doo dung directly to the dog owner, and fines them the amount it'd cost to keep them in jail for a month...while keeping them in jail for a month. With their dog.

If you're caught in the act of non-poopscoopianism, your dog will be lightly sauteed in garlic butter and fed to the homeless.