Fuck Evolution.
In a stunning development across the world, ‘the missing link’ has been found. I am of course referring to the recent discovery of the fossil Lemur that expert’s say proves to be a transitional fossil between apes and lemurs. A transitional fossil is a fossil that shares characteristics of one species with those of another (in case you were wondering).
If you’ve recently sent me an e-mail, IM, text message or spoken to me about this in person, I’ve likely shrugged you off and claimed that I hadn’t heard about this magical discovery. The reason? Because you have fallen victim to tool-fad syndrome and I am trying not to get infected. Tool-fad syndrome, in a nutshell, is when people with no knowledge of a given topic feel a need to exert themselves on that topic despite not having a clue what it is they’re talking about. I first noticed this several years ago when people would argue Philosophy without any actual understanding of philosophy beyond an intro course that they managed to get a B+ in. The virus has since spread across other areas of study; it is without a doubt an epidemic and if you meet anyone with it, I suggest running far away or lightning them on fire, which is the only proven method to killing someone infected with tool-fad syndrome.
If you are infected and are one of the many who thought I’d side with you claiming that this discovery was some grandiose saving of evolutionary theory, let me offer you some advice: stop falling for stupid shit. If you’re not knowledgeable in a topic, don’t fucking try and talk about it. If you think you’re knowledgeable because you read some online article and some Wikipedia entries then please at least offer me the curtsy of not sending me any more e-mails, they are a waste of my valuable time.
There is no doubt that evolution is true. There is no sensible argument against it. It is proven through the same rigorous process that gravity is proven to exist everyday. There are a few million ‘missing links’ left to be discovered. Some will be, some won’t be. This does not invalid evolution in any shape way or form. Half of the confusion that results from people who argue evolution is caused by dipshits like the ones I mentioned earlier arguing in favor of evolution without an understanding of it. That’s right, you might be part of the problem. In an effort to help you uncover if you are indeed part of the problem, I have created the following simple test:
Upon hearing about the discovery of the lemur fossil, did you think that Evolution had now been proven or gained some form of advancement?
Yes
No
If you answered yes, you are a moron. If you answered yes and e-mailed family and friends claiming that evolution had gained some momentous step, you are infected by tool-fad syndrome. Lighting yourself and anyone you’ve had physical contact with on fire may be the only way to redeem yourself. Be a man, save that evolutionary theory that you hold dear!
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Friday, February 20, 2009
I Don't Support Breast Cancer & Nor Should You.
I Don't Support Breast Cancer & Nor Should You.
I have exactly one hobby in life: pissing people off. And boy, I’m I good at it. I can guarantee you that I’m able to do it in 15 minutes or less; it’s my piss off guarantee. If I don’t deliver a genuine pisser-offer within that timeframe, well, I won’t do anything. I don’t like people who guarantee anything; it pisses me off. A woman once told me that I couldn’t piss her off – 4.32 minutes later, she was pissed the fuck off. It’s a very rewarding hobby and I’ve got the entire process down to a science. It goes something like this:
Step one: Say or do something ‘mean’. I.E.: telling someone you don’t support helping to cure breast cancer.
Step two: Await reaction.
Step three: Laugh at reaction.
Step four: Await their next reaction.
Step five: Explain why you’re a superior being
Step six: Success.
I use this example because it’s grounded in reality: I don’t support breast cancer research and I think anyone who does is a mindless shill who doesn’t stop to think what they're supporting. I’m tired of these self-righteous pricks on a crusade to save things, fuck them. Everyone seems to have a ‘cause’ these days. “Save the trees, save the bees, save the whales, save those snails,” fuck that. If I’m going to use my precious time to support a cause, I’m going to damn well be sure it’s worth supporting and breast cancer is not such a cause.
I’m a fan of second-base; don’t get me wrong. I’m all for ensuring that the statistical odds of me reaching it continue to stay high and anytime those odds get lower, I genuinely feel bad. I still don’t support breast cancer research though. Know why? It’s stupid to support. Know what I support instead? Cancer research. Here’s some interesting statistics about breast cancer for people who want to know what inspired this rant:
1- It receives the most amount of funding across all ‘types’ of cancer.
2-It’s not the leading cause of death among all the ‘types’ of cancer. (Third or fourth depending on which statistics you read).
3- It’s not even the leading cause of death among the ‘types’ of cancer for women. (It comes in second).
4- Unlike say lung cancer, research into breast cancer is completely useless in developing treatment for other forms of cancer. Curing breast cancer means that breast cancer will be cured. Curing lung cancer means that lung cancer is cured and five other forms of cancer are closer to being cured.
5- We actually declared a month towards supporting curing breast cancer. Think about the implications behind that. We declared an entire month to curing a specific type of cancer. It’s not ‘cancer month’, it’s ‘breast cancer month’. That means that we, society, have decided that breast cancer is just that much more important. Read over points 1-4 again. Still feel like breast cancer month is something you want to support?
Bet you feel stupid for buying that flower now. I don’t. Know why? Because I tell people who ask me to help support breast cancer that their mindless shills. Know why? Because they are. I’ll also bet you that a lot of people who read this got pissed off. I love pissing people off. Best hobby in the world. And boy, I’m I good at it!
I have exactly one hobby in life: pissing people off. And boy, I’m I good at it. I can guarantee you that I’m able to do it in 15 minutes or less; it’s my piss off guarantee. If I don’t deliver a genuine pisser-offer within that timeframe, well, I won’t do anything. I don’t like people who guarantee anything; it pisses me off. A woman once told me that I couldn’t piss her off – 4.32 minutes later, she was pissed the fuck off. It’s a very rewarding hobby and I’ve got the entire process down to a science. It goes something like this:
Step one: Say or do something ‘mean’. I.E.: telling someone you don’t support helping to cure breast cancer.
Step two: Await reaction.
Step three: Laugh at reaction.
Step four: Await their next reaction.
Step five: Explain why you’re a superior being
Step six: Success.
I use this example because it’s grounded in reality: I don’t support breast cancer research and I think anyone who does is a mindless shill who doesn’t stop to think what they're supporting. I’m tired of these self-righteous pricks on a crusade to save things, fuck them. Everyone seems to have a ‘cause’ these days. “Save the trees, save the bees, save the whales, save those snails,” fuck that. If I’m going to use my precious time to support a cause, I’m going to damn well be sure it’s worth supporting and breast cancer is not such a cause.
I’m a fan of second-base; don’t get me wrong. I’m all for ensuring that the statistical odds of me reaching it continue to stay high and anytime those odds get lower, I genuinely feel bad. I still don’t support breast cancer research though. Know why? It’s stupid to support. Know what I support instead? Cancer research. Here’s some interesting statistics about breast cancer for people who want to know what inspired this rant:
1- It receives the most amount of funding across all ‘types’ of cancer.
2-It’s not the leading cause of death among all the ‘types’ of cancer. (Third or fourth depending on which statistics you read).
3- It’s not even the leading cause of death among the ‘types’ of cancer for women. (It comes in second).
4- Unlike say lung cancer, research into breast cancer is completely useless in developing treatment for other forms of cancer. Curing breast cancer means that breast cancer will be cured. Curing lung cancer means that lung cancer is cured and five other forms of cancer are closer to being cured.
5- We actually declared a month towards supporting curing breast cancer. Think about the implications behind that. We declared an entire month to curing a specific type of cancer. It’s not ‘cancer month’, it’s ‘breast cancer month’. That means that we, society, have decided that breast cancer is just that much more important. Read over points 1-4 again. Still feel like breast cancer month is something you want to support?
Bet you feel stupid for buying that flower now. I don’t. Know why? Because I tell people who ask me to help support breast cancer that their mindless shills. Know why? Because they are. I’ll also bet you that a lot of people who read this got pissed off. I love pissing people off. Best hobby in the world. And boy, I’m I good at it!
Friday, February 6, 2009
This Buds For You, George.
This Buds For You, George.
Every once in awhile, I meet some special people. When I decide to tell them about the website, the most typical response is them telling me their precious ideas about what I should write on, or how this site could be 'improved'. Let this be a note to you, dear reader, I do not care about your opinions. My opinions are perfect and yours are not. Why would I need to borrow them?
There is, however, a small percentage of people whose opinions are pretty fucking funny and worthy of my attention. Not to mention, by posting their ideas, I have the added advantage of being able to make a post with very little work involved (and, consequently, being able to tell George that I fucking updated and wrote something, so he can leave me alone).
Without further a due I present to you all Mike, our featured writer of the day. In case you're wondering why I chose to post his work instead of the shitpile you may have sent me because you deemed it genius and felt a need to share it with me, Mike called me "A god among us mortals" while you did not. Flattery will get you a front page update (if it is funny). Keep that in mind for the future my special readers. Now leave me alone George.
By Mike:
I fucking knew I should have never gotten out of bed today. Some times just knowing that I am going to cross the paths of the countless morons that we call “other people” is just so exciting I go back to sleep.
Today of course the adventure began with the age-old practice of “the commute”. I have long understood what makes people open fire on other drivers, but what dawned on me today is fucking confounding.
Here is the thing: when you do something over and over again it amounts to practice. We are fooled into the phrase “practice makes perfect” but clearly, for most people, what we really need to be thinking is “practice makes fucking retarded”.
You don’t agree? While my first inclination is to smack you on the nose with a rolled up newspaper while shouting “No! Bad!” I will, in my infinite wisdom, give you an example.
While driving to work today, and watching countless asshats doing stupid shit like making right turns from the left lane with their left blinker on, I had a moment of pure mental clarity. People not only do not know how to operate a goddamn car, but after countless years of practice, they actually get fucking worse at doing it. What is wrong with people?
We can train animals to learn through practice, it’s just a matter of voltage. Can we maybe do the same with drivers? While I guess sending a nice current through the genitals of dumbass drivers may be unpractical, we need a solution of reaching out and saying “NO! BAD!” without causing daily 100 car pileups.
Of course I have the solution! I propose that we change everyone’s license plate number to the phone number of a permanently installed and always on cellular phone that automatically answers on the second ring. I know, I am a genius. We can then reach out and touch someone every time they do some asshat driving move they learned while watching Cannonball Run.
I know what you are thinking…. You like the genital shocking idea. I do too, but well, I think my idea will still serve the same purpose. You can instigate a fight over the phone, pull over and kick someone right where it counts, get back in your car and drive away just as satisfied.
Well that’s about it, aren’t you glad you read this?
Mike
Eagerly awaiting 2012 so we can eat canned bacon while hiding underground from the zombies.
Every once in awhile, I meet some special people. When I decide to tell them about the website, the most typical response is them telling me their precious ideas about what I should write on, or how this site could be 'improved'. Let this be a note to you, dear reader, I do not care about your opinions. My opinions are perfect and yours are not. Why would I need to borrow them?
There is, however, a small percentage of people whose opinions are pretty fucking funny and worthy of my attention. Not to mention, by posting their ideas, I have the added advantage of being able to make a post with very little work involved (and, consequently, being able to tell George that I fucking updated and wrote something, so he can leave me alone).
Without further a due I present to you all Mike, our featured writer of the day. In case you're wondering why I chose to post his work instead of the shitpile you may have sent me because you deemed it genius and felt a need to share it with me, Mike called me "A god among us mortals" while you did not. Flattery will get you a front page update (if it is funny). Keep that in mind for the future my special readers. Now leave me alone George.
By Mike:
I fucking knew I should have never gotten out of bed today. Some times just knowing that I am going to cross the paths of the countless morons that we call “other people” is just so exciting I go back to sleep.
Today of course the adventure began with the age-old practice of “the commute”. I have long understood what makes people open fire on other drivers, but what dawned on me today is fucking confounding.
Here is the thing: when you do something over and over again it amounts to practice. We are fooled into the phrase “practice makes perfect” but clearly, for most people, what we really need to be thinking is “practice makes fucking retarded”.
You don’t agree? While my first inclination is to smack you on the nose with a rolled up newspaper while shouting “No! Bad!” I will, in my infinite wisdom, give you an example.
While driving to work today, and watching countless asshats doing stupid shit like making right turns from the left lane with their left blinker on, I had a moment of pure mental clarity. People not only do not know how to operate a goddamn car, but after countless years of practice, they actually get fucking worse at doing it. What is wrong with people?
We can train animals to learn through practice, it’s just a matter of voltage. Can we maybe do the same with drivers? While I guess sending a nice current through the genitals of dumbass drivers may be unpractical, we need a solution of reaching out and saying “NO! BAD!” without causing daily 100 car pileups.
Of course I have the solution! I propose that we change everyone’s license plate number to the phone number of a permanently installed and always on cellular phone that automatically answers on the second ring. I know, I am a genius. We can then reach out and touch someone every time they do some asshat driving move they learned while watching Cannonball Run.
I know what you are thinking…. You like the genital shocking idea. I do too, but well, I think my idea will still serve the same purpose. You can instigate a fight over the phone, pull over and kick someone right where it counts, get back in your car and drive away just as satisfied.
Well that’s about it, aren’t you glad you read this?
Mike
Eagerly awaiting 2012 so we can eat canned bacon while hiding underground from the zombies.
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