If enduring an hour long fake delay of game last night for a bunch of pampered pussy multi-millionaires afraid of the sight of lightening—but an hour more of programming worthy advert revenue—wasn’t enough…that’s the NPL, the National Pussy League…I have another story just today along the same lines.
But first, I have to ask: to what depths is the N“F“L going to dive, what with all the talk of how these multi millionaires are not nearly pampered enough, how they had no idea that trading money for bashed skulls was just “Not My Fault and Someone Needs to Pay Me More!” …and “DON’T LET ANYONE ELSE MAKE THE TRADE I MADE!!!” …I can’t even believe they can do it with a straight face. Fucking pussies. Disgusting; fucking pussies. Shit, you can’t even hardly have a decent series of downs anymore without a prison guard in prison garb coming out to blow a whistle and protect the league, in league, with MAFI—Mothers Against Football Injuries.
Vince Lombardi: rolling in his grave.
…I have an unconventional, micro welding job where I need someone with good tig, aluminum alloy experience. So I took it to a shop that has welded steel for me in the past. Instead of any level of “no thanks” (it’s a tiny job—perhaps worth about $50) I get the fucking pussy lecture: “My liability insurance.” Sissy pussy. Bring out your 10-fucking-stupid-page release of liability your attorney or your insurance company wrote, that you’ve never once read, and I’ll sign it without reading too, if you’re that pussy.
On top of that, the asshole has the audacity to proceed to lecture and tell me what I ought to do with my own materials and money. I find this all the time now: people who have the appearance of men, but all they can do is tell you how much danger and risk there is in X, trying at every turn to out worry and safetyfy women. Shit, they’re out-doing women in general.
God, please fuck America. Don’t bless it on its life. The sooner, the better. I told an owner of a restaurant in the Marina District of San Francisco—Chestnut Street—just yesterday: the only thing that can fix America at this point is soup lines.
I’m dead serious. Armani suits with handmade English shoes in soup lines. I can’t wait to see it.