I just thought I’d make it a point to express my severe disgust with the latest version of the Android Wordpress app.

Clearly something went wrong in the development process of the steamy pile of shit they just released. Did you dimple-dicks even test this? Twice now, I have typed out War-And-Peace-length posts to have them abruptly disappear during the posting / upload process. This occurred when using my HTC G1.

On about 10 other posts, the POS app took the liberty to add question marks at the end of every sentence in my post. That doesn’t work out so well when making chiding statements; it makes you sound confused at best…

I would have typed this post on my mobile Wordpress for Android, but I’m afraid I’d lose the whole damned post or I’d sound like an annoying kid asking question after goddamn question.

Latest download of Wordpress for Android app = crapola.

When I’m drivin’ down the road and I see a car in front of me with an Obama bumper sticker, I can’t help but feel awash with disdain. Truly. It’s all I can do to keep myself from pulling up next to the car and spitting on the misinformed, douchbag driving.

To me, those bumper stickers clearly identify the weak, foolish, and un-American members of our faltering society. They wear the mark of the beast with blind-pride. Ignorant of their contribution to America’s demise. Once a superpower, our nation has become weak and deluded.

Hooray! You got your token black guy in the Whitehouse! Never mind that he is a spineless, inexperienced, proud little twit incapable of delivering on any promises. He’s little more than an elitist blow-hard who can’t bring about an ounce of change per pound of rhetoric expounded.

You may as well replace your Obama sticker with one that reads, “I am not an American.”

Dating a divorced single-mom is trouble. I know because I’ve got some experience here. In the past 2 years, I have dated three such women. Each of them ended up exposing themselves as the trainwreck they were.

I’m sure there are some well-adjusted, divorced single-muthas out there; I have never dated one. To be more clear or specific about which of these single momsters is the real trouble, I present this criteria. Women meeting the following three criteria are now and forever considered by me as un-date-able:

1. Aged 37 to 42
2. Husband cheated on her
3. Divorced within 2 years

Each of the women I dated met these three simple criteria. Each was damaged-goods.

In my opinion, in each of these relationships, I slowly transformed (in their eyes) from great guy to evil-sonovabitch-cheating-lying-man. None of these women had truly moved from the bitterness they felt towards their ex-husbands.

If you think this is a small group of women, you’re wrong. They are amassed in armies on websites like Match.com or eHarmony.com or PlentyOfFish.com. Avoid these women like the plague.

Maybe you remember (as I do) when the whole “We Are The World” hoopla came out. It was big. There were records, videos, shirts and all kinds of secondary marketing bullshit that came along with its release.

I guess that’s what I’m trying to do here with this blog. No… Not the whole world-unification crap. I’m trying to create something that will first-and-foremost make me disgustingly rich. If I happen to bring about world peace in the process, I suppose that’s a fair side-benefit of my capitalist pursuits.

Besides, we all know that world peace is a pipe-dream thanks to religious fundamentalism and political wackos. Even some of the stoned-out hippies are starting to give up the good-fight. Have no sad feelings about it; turn that frown upside-down. There are other opportunities for you to take action, even if saving the world is futile.

Perhaps you recall these lyrics from the “We Are The World” tune: “We are the world. We are the children. We are the ones to make a brighter day, so let’s start giving.” The line I’d like to draw your attention to is the “so let’s start giving” line.

If you like what you read here, why not make a contribution to my middle-age-crisis-sports-car-fund. We can’t heal the world, but you can give ’til it hurts.

Peace.

Now, don’t get all high-and-fuckin-mighty, Mr. Killing-is-wrong-and-I-wouldn’t-kill-anyone, or you may end up as my choice. This is just a stupid blog, with a stupid post, raising a stupid question, so don’t be so stupid, and make your pick. So who is it? Remember, you get a free-pass on this one, no cops, no prison to worry about.

Shit. I just thought about something: What if more than one person wants to kill the same person? How do we go about handling that? It could get a bit out of hand if people are competing to mow-down the same unsuspecting dolt. Yeah, we have to handle this properly, in an organized fashion. After all, we are a civilized society.

I propose a new government-sponsored agency, ‘The Department of Dibs,’ be established. You must pre-register your target and anticipated date-range of execution. This way, if your target is a popular one, only the first registrated killer will have rights to snuff-out the requested target. The whole thing could be modeled on the internet domain-name registration process. Perfect.

So who would I whack? Hmmm. I best not say. You may be reading this post.

“Someday you will die and someone’s, or something will steal your carbon.”  ~ Parting of the Sensory, Modest Mouse

Are not ALL the stars fully-aligned yet?! This is getting ridiculous. When the hell is the end coming?

What would you do? For shit’s sake, it’s the end of the world – anything goes, right? Is it not in those few remaining finite moments of time that we truly get to live? It’s not like we’re really living-it-up now. How can you truly live life to its full potential under the weight of knowing it will not end soon? Should not everyman experience the deep, profound alive-ness brought-forth by sheer existential splendor? Do you think your life now is really that meaningful?

Given enough time, my life will be much like the greats before me. My life will be just as Albert Einstein’s or Thomas Jefferson’s or William Clinton’s (ahem), all of us the same… forgotten. We will return once again to the basic, elemental, particulate, minuscule molecule. All of us. All of our input and output equally serving, and in time, little more than wasted carbon.

So, for now, I wait. I wait, and wonder when it will end, but alas, it may not be in my lifetime. That is a stark, biting reality that I face each day. I may never get to see the end coming, nor drive that Porsche.

You see, as I drove through my podunk little town, a small cross-street was completely closed to traffic due to repairs. At first I was pissed because of the inconvenience (we Americans LOVE convenience), but my spirits were quickly lifted when I saw THE SIGN. That glorious SIGN! This road-sign was unlike any other I had seen before. It was a strident beacon of hope and new-found prosperity.

It read, “Keep America Working. This project funded by the Economic Recovery and Reinvestment Act.” Oh, glory! I had to stop to speak with the workers, to get their stories of success.

I approached a hardy-looking fellow wearing Dickies overalls. I introduced myself and asked him about the project. He told me they were resurfacing a 50-yard section of the side-street and the project would be complete in two days. I asked, “Then what?” He responded simply, “Dunno. I hope something else comes up…” Did you catch that? He said “hope.”

Obama is a man of his word. He had clearly instilled hope in these workers: I hope I can find more work… I hope the bank doesn’t foreclose… I hope I have enough money for groceries… I hope no one in the family gets sick… I hope…

I swear these two guys have been conspiring (or betting) to convert me. The Baptist is hell-bent (yeah, pun intended) on getting me to his church. I’m not sure if he has a conversion quota to meet or if he’s just looking for some poor-sap to sacrifice (I was raised Catholic, so don’t think I don’t know what goes on in those places.) Whatever his reason is, you’d think he’d catch on after I have politely declined several times.

The Methodist is a nice enough guy. He takes a less direct way to force Jesus into my life. See, a conversation cannot be had with this man without him forcing an awkward, out-of-context reference to god, or Jesus, or The Lord, into the mix. For example, I say, “Nice day huh?” and he responds with, “These are god’s gifts to his children.” Okay, it couldn’t be the high-pressure system that moved in overnight, eh? I usually just reply with, “Yep” or “Uh-huh.”

All I know, is that sometimes I would just like to mow my fucking lawn with no interruptions, or talk about angels or church. I mean, for shits-sake, I’m usually mowing it on a Sunday! Isn’t that sign enough that I’m a hopeless, sabbath-breaking-man-devil?! I think I’ll tell the Baptist I’ll go to church if he mows my lawn for me…

I have learned that no matter what the situation is, if someone gives you an ultimatum, you should do the exact opposite of THEIR desired outcome.   Another thing about ultimatums, ever notice they often start with a “you need” statement?  Total bullshit.  Some examples…

• “You need to choose between her or me.”  Proper Response: “Hit the fuckin’ road toots, I chose her.”

• “You need to pick up the pace or find somewhere else to work.”  Proper Response: “Blow me, douche-bag.”

• “You need to clean your room or find somewhere else to live.”  Proper Response: “Shut your pie-hole or I’m tellin’ Dad you’re sleepin’ with the mailman.”

• “Your money or your life.”  Proper Response: “You ain’t got the guts, you sorry little turd-burglar.”

Do you think John Wayne would put up with that crap?  Hell no he wouldn’t!  He’d reach down between his legs and grab his cast-iron balls and smack someone over the head with ‘em.  Don’t put up with any ultimatum – ever.  Nothing, nothing is worth more than your pride… not your girlfriend, not your job at Hardees, and certainly not your life…

Okay, maybe your life, but certainly not your crack-whore, cheatin’ momma’.

Can ABC be more transparent in their attempts to corral Twilight-humping fan-addicts? What a steamy pile of crap that show was. The only highlight for me was the hot chic with the British accent, who used to be on Boston Legal. She could suck on my neck any time.

It’s not just the vampire-loving freaks who are clearly on the receiving end of ABC’s marketing attempts, but the show also features a super-gay, high-tech security command post. There are tons of futuristic monitors and other cyber-crap that wreaks of CSI or other pop-culture crime shows.

If this show is still on after six episodes, I will personally flog myself with a copy of Twilight at the local shopping mall. The Gates is uber-dumb. The acting, especially the acting by the staff in the The Gates security command center, is poor at best. How someone succeed in selling this concept is beyond me…