Memorial DaySaving Private Ryan and the Pussification of America

In honor of Memorial Day, Jonny decided to repost something he wrote a few years ago in another forum. Regardless of your opinion on our current war, or any other war for that matter, please keep something in mind on this important day: Our men and women in uniform are NOT the ones pulling the strings, and they never have been. Regardless of whether you support this or any military action, PLEASE support the folks on the ground - I can assure you that they don't want to be there any more than the strongest critic of the action wants them to be there. Above all, please take a little time to consider and appreciate the sacrifices made by those that died in these actions.

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August 26, 2006

Well, I've just finished watching Saving Private Ryan for about the 50th time. This has to be one of the five greatest films I've ever seen. No matter how many times I watch it, I still find myself choking back tears, and the battle scenes leave my ass cheeks sore for two days from being clenched so tightly for extended periods of time. Yeah - I know - I fucking get it - "It's a MOVIE". But all of the reviews back when it was released said that it was the most realistic film about WWII that had ever been made. The veterans lined up to bless it as an accurate account of D-Day and the War in general. In other words - yeah, it's a movie, but it's pretty fucking real!

Every time I watch this movie, I can't help but feel guilty. I mean, look at our sorry-ass generation. Do you think any of us would make the kind of sacrifices that our grandfathers did in WWII? I know I wouldn't. I'd run and hide like a little bitch if I was told to take my ass to France or Germany or Italy or the Pacific or anywhere else where I was pretty likely to FUCKING DIE. Yet the men of that generation did it. The First World War, and for that matter the Civil War and every conflict after that, pretty much destroyed the romanticism that surrounded young men going off to fight some glorious battle. By WWII it was pretty clear - you're going to fight because you HAVE TO, and you're probably going to DIE! But they did it anyway, and they didn't whine about it. Unlike every conflict that our country has been involved in since WWII, it was clear, even through all of the propaganda, that our adversaries were fucking EVIL and had to be stopped at all costs, so our grandfathers did what had to be done. My point is that if that situation arose today, I doubt that the men of my generation (me included) would fucking suck it up and get it done. We would look for any excuse we could to avoid serving our country, kind of like we do our best to avoid jury duty or anything else that might inconvenience us, not to mention anything that is likely to KILL us.

Don't get me wrong - I'm no blind-ass redneck patriot. I don't drink the fucking cool-aid for America. I personally think that every major conflict that we've been involved in since WWII has/had a basis in greed, politics, and economics rather than in what is "right" or what might endanger the freedom that we cherish. But goddamnit - we didn't CHOOSE to be involved in WWII. In fact, we avoided it to a fault when we probably should have jumped in earlier. I've heard every conspiracy theory known to man, but I've NEVER heard anyone claim that we bombed Pearl Harbor ourselves just so that we could bury our cocks balls-deep into WWII. Japan and Germany wanted to fuck us and take our shit and our way of life, and if allowed to continue unchecked, they would have done just that.

So anyway, although war is never pretty, it was necessary in this case, and the young men (and women) of that time did what was necessary. It is for that reason that any time I meet a Veteran of this period, I always shake their hand and sincerely thank them for their service to our country. If you don't agree with me, I challenge you to watch the first 30 minutes of Saving Private Ryan. Imagine that it is YOU at the age of 17, 18, 19, or for that matter, your son at that same age, that is riding in the landing craft approaching Omaha Beach, Utah Beach, Sword Beach, Juno Beach, or any of the other absolute DEATHTRAPS that our men did on June 6, 1944. Imagine trying to get out of the landing craft and get to cover amidst an incredible barrage of machine-gun and mortar fire while your buddies are blown to shit around you. Now, compare that to your pussy-ass that whines like a bitch if you haven't had your Starbucks in the morning or because the waitress is slow in bringing your shots, and you'll see what I mean. Our generation is a bunch of sorry-ass, pussified little selfish bitches that has completely lost sight of how absolutely fucking fantastic our lives are and instead want to bitch because we have to wait in line too long at the D.M.V. to get our Driver's License renewed. Feel guilty like I do? You should. Because you're a little bitch too.

So, whenever you have the chance, take a moment to pull your head out of your ass and thank a WWII Veteran for what they did your your worthless, sorry, pussy ass. Let's face it - there aren't many men left among us that were old enough to have served in the armed forces in 1944, and within the next 20 years they will be extinct. It's the least you can do, you SELFISH FUCK. And if you're ever in New Orleans, take a few hours out of your busy schedule of drinking, gambling, partying, and whoring and visit the D-Day Museum - it's awesome, and assuming that you aren't completely insensitive to history, you might actually appreciate it and learn something.

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Reprise: January 10, 2008

I was at my local Post Office last week, and as I was leaving I held the door for an elderly gentleman. He was barely five feet tall, but he was probably a lot taller before old age shrunk his height. I was wearing one of my old, raggedy-ass S.M.U. sweatshirts (you know the ones I'm talking about!), and he saw it and asked if I went to school there. Without thinking, I said what I always say..."Many moons ago", not really thinking that if this man has an SMU connection, his pre-dated mine by DECADES. Sure enough, he laughed and said that he was there starting in 1946 (YOU do the math!). He was wearing one of those caps that always brings me to my knees - an embroidered cap that shows the name of an Army or Marine unit, or of a Navy ship, or some other unit of WW2 military. In his case, it said "Army Air Corps". I asked him if he was once in the service, and he answered that he served in WW2. Call me a big pussy, but I immediately stuck out my hand and said "Thank you for what you did for our country". He looked a little puzzled, so I explained to him that (in my opinion), my generation would never understand what it was like back then, nor the sacrifices that his generation made. He laughed and said "Most people your age don't even know that it ever happened!" I couldn't argue with him - we totally suck. See my original rant about what a bunch of pussies we are. Anyhoo, I felt priviledged to meet this man who has sacrificed for our way of life and shook his hand. On the way out of the parking lot I waved to him as he (slowly) walked back to his car, and I couldn't help but feel that this guy was part of the reason that my life is so good.

Thank you sir!

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That is all, bitches.

And to our Veterans, Thank You! Jonny sincerely Loves You Long Time!

Come On Now!!!:Raiders of the Lost Ark: Part IV

What the hell was Jonny thinking? Hmmmm.....let me see, a Geriatric Swashbuckling Archaeologist Scouring Peru for Clues to an Ancient Alien Invasion. Sounds like an AWESOME premise! Sign me up!

Yeah, they got me. Jonny spent $9.25 and three hours of his life that he'll never get back on this piece of shit.

I guess it just proves that the American Public (Jonny included) really IS that fucking stupid. First they gave us Shriveled-But-Still-All-Veiny-And-Roided-Up Rocky Balboa. Gross!!! Hey - it could happen! A 60-year-old dude COULD kick the shit out of a professional boxer 30 years his junior, right?

I guess everyone thought that Sly looked so good in that one that they quickly followed it up with another sequel in the Rambo series. Or maybe it was because so many dumbasses paid to go see "Rocky VI: That's Not My Cup - Those Are My DEPENDS" that it grossed about $125 million versus a cost of $24 million to make. This time the old fuck is back running around the jungle and killing gooks in hand-to-hand combat. Maybe all of the humidity and sweat covered up his problems with incontinence. At least he had the decency to hire a body-double half his age to do alot of his stunts. This little gem of Senior Citizen Action Hero Cinema made a profit of about $50 million, so sadly we're likely to see more of this shit. PLEASE people, stop paying for this shit, and eventually they'll stop making it.

But sadly, not yet. Alas, the final leg of our Triple-Crown-of-Action-Heros-That-Sometimes-Accidentally-Shit-Their-Pants-During-Filming hit theaters yesterday, and I'm sure it will make a killing too, spawning more of these horribly saddening works. In case you're wondering, the original Raiders of the Lost Ark was released TWENTY-SEVEN years ago. And it was GREATNESS. Why do they insist on fucking up such a great franchise with scenes of an old man climbing into a refrigerator to avoid a nuclear blast (because a good-ole fridge can survive a direct nuclear strike that obliterates everything else in sight), and then doing some horrifying slapstick physical comedy with some CGI gophers when he climbs out of the fridge that was blown miles across the desert. And then they have to revive Marion Ravenwood, also from the first Indy, who is now even fatter and more tore-up than he is, to come back and bust Indy's balls. Wow, there is NOTHING like two sexagenarians rekindling an old flame to make me throw up in my mouth. It just gets worse and worse as the story goes on, until the aliens kill all of the Russians or suck them into the giant flying saucer for some anal probing, but Indy and his crew miraculously escape just in time (SHOCKING! - Never saw THAT ending coming!) to witness the majestic alien departure from the top of the ridge. Are you FUCKING SERIOUS??? Aliens??? How the fuck does an archaeologist find ALIENS while exploring ancient ruins in the mountains of South America? Oh wait, here comes the credits with the cool Raiders theme song. At least Indy's theme song is still good, but while they were busy fucking up everything else about Raiders of the Lost Ark, why didn't they just go ahead and sodomize the theme song - maybe a new rendition by Lil Jon with a nice Techno beat.

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So Jonny is wondering - What's next? Since making retread sequels of old action flicks using the original cast seems to be all the rage, how about we dig up Christopher Reeve and spring Margot Kidder from the mental hospital long enough to make one more Superman sequel?

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Or maybe reunite Burt Reynolds and Sally Field for one more Smokey and the Bandit.

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Or maybe Ned Beatty can squeal like a pig for us one more time, just for old-time's sake.

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Wait! I've got it! Let's get Andy Griffith and Aunt Bea back together for some hot octogenarian PORN!!!

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Jonny out, bitches! ♥ Love you long time!

"Economic Stimulus" = More Tax for Jonny, More Consumption for YouPart II:Why Jonny Sits on His Ass Instead of Working.

In Part I of this article Jonny discussed his views on the current "Economic Stimulus" program and what a smelly Red-Radio-Flyer-with-Wooden-Rails-and-All-Terrain-Tires WAGON-LOAD of SHIT it is.

Part II is a continuation of that line of thought, geared more toward Jonny's general fucking disdain and loathing of our tax system and what he does to beat it.

Same credits go to WestonPoker.com / BigStack.com as in Part I of this article. Thanks to T3 for providing the forum and to the other guys for providing their thought-provoking comments/input/feedback.

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Here's the deal: Without question, the U.S. tax system is one of the biggest weights hanging around the neck of the U.S. economy. Why? Because it DISCOURAGES many Americans from working, from creating jobs, and from innovating.

"But WAIT Jonny - I call Bullshit!", you exclaim. "Hard work, innovation, and entrepreneurship are the values at the very CORE of the American Dream. What ever do you mean?"

Well, that's the view of most civilians in the business world. By "civilians" I mean the masses that work for The Man - those that earn their living as an employee rather than as an employer. It's also the opinion of many wide-eyed, would-be entrepreneurs that, while toiling for The Man, from the safe and comfy confines of their shitty little cubicle, dream of "going out on their own". Why? Because they simply don't realize what an ass-fucking(1) they have coming to them if they DO start a business AND they are lucky enough to actually be successful at it.

"Please elaborate, Jonny", you plead, like a child begging Grandpa to tell another old-man story. "What awful villain is going to ass-fuck you, Jonny?"

Well, it's this guy named Sam that we're worried about. You know who I'm talking about - he's most visible in March and April standing on the median outside of various Liberty Tax Preparation locations along with that French cunt "Statue of Liberty". He wears a ridiculous red, white, and blue outfit like a really creepy clown with a FUCKED UP hat. No, not Cheddar, he's the short one dressed like a midget-clown or a leprechaun. Sam is tall. You know who I mean - THAT GUY.

"I still don't understand Jonny. Why would the nice man in the funny outfit and hat want to harm you?"

Well, no one knows it, but that creepy clown is Jonny's "Silent Partner". Let me illustrate:

Let's pretend that Jonny had a great Crown-induced idea and wanted to start a new business:

1) First, Jonny would have to invest a tremendous amount of his time and effort working toward starting his new venture.

2) At the same time, Jonny would have to invest a large chunk of money as start-up capital. The money would either have to come from Jonny's pockets, or he would have to borrow it. Either way, it's coming out of Jonny's ass if things don't go well - he's at risk of losing 100% (or more) of the money he sinks into this thing.

3) Next, Jonny busts his ass to first get the business to a point where it can survive, and then perhaps he might even be lucky enough to reach a point where the business is making a little money. Jonny breathes a big sigh of relief. His investment of time, effort, and money is still FAR from secure, but at least it's looking like success is a slightly possible outcome. Jonny decides he is ready to draw his first paycheck, representing a little fruit from his efforts, so he can take Mrs. Jonny out for a nice dinner to thank her for putting up with all of the long hours, hard work, and financial sacrifices.

4) Well, word seems to travel faster than the rumor of a SWAT raid in the Dallas underground poker community, and Jonny's silent partner (that creepy bastard in the FUCKED UP hat) somehow makes a bee-line from the nearest strip center, and he manages to arrive before Jonny has even written out that check. And guess what? He's got his hand out, looking for his share. Sammy and his cousin from the State of Texas get:

a) 15.3% of every dollar Jonny makes in Social Security and Medicare taxes
b) 2.7% of every dollar in State Unemployment tax
c) 0.9% of every dollar in Federal Unemployment tax

So far Creepy Clown has skimmed Jonny for almost 19 cents out of every dollar, and Jonny gets 81 cents. Damn! A 19% rake is STEEP. It's not "State Lottery Steep", but it's still high. Okay, that's something Jonny can learn to live with. 19% for all of the privileges and protections that this country affords Jonny is probably worth it, even though they could really run a lot leaner and give us a rake reduction.

NOT SO MUCH. That 19% goes to pay for entitlements to other people. Other "citizens". In other words, Jonny hasn't BEGUN to pay for his "country".

Then comes the income tax. Most years, one of two things will happen - either Jonny is already in a high marginal bracket and paying either 28% or 33% on every incremental dollar, or he's subject to AMT and paying 26% or 28% of EVERY dollar.

So now Creepy is getting between 45% and 52% of every dollar Jonny makes. Somehow, me and Ass-Clown Guy are EQUAL partners, even though Jonny is the one doing ALL of the work and taking ALL of the risk. You probably originally thought that Jonny's choice of the "ass-fuck" metaphor was a little extreme - are you coming around?

But wait, it gets better. As Jonny's income increases, he gradually gets more-fucked (or "deeper-fucked", or "worse-fucked"? - Jonny isn't sure how to express the different degrees of ass-fucked-ness). His ability to take normal deductions and credits disappears. Itemized deductions (like mortgage interest and property taxes on Jonny's Cardboard Box Estates homestead, as well as sales tax and other expenses)? GONE. Personal exemptions ($3,400 per person in your household for 2007)? GONE. Child tax credit? FORGET IT. IRA deduction? NOPE. "Mr. Jonny, sir, you don't get to deduct stuff that normal folks do because you are one of those evil 'rich' people".

And an "Economic Stimulus Payment" or "Rebate"? - ROFLMGDMFAO!!! "Mr. Jonny, sir, those go to people who DESERVE them, not to you evil people that work hard, take risks, and sometimes make a lot of money."

And I haven't scratched the surface of the possibility that there are corporate taxes on profits before they get to Jonny. That's a different post for a different day.

Oh yeah, and Jonny also hasn't discussed the possibility that these various tax rates go even higher after the next election, since our big, fat, bloated, morbidly-obese government is broker than broke and has to recover that deficit somehow. And don't forget that Medicare and Social Security are already insolvent relative to their respective obligations and rapidly spiraling toward complete bankruptcy. Who do you think will be expected to bear the additional tax load? Since everyone's vote counts the same, and there are more "commoners" than "aristocrats", guess who gets the shitty end of this deal? Yep, it's a party in Jonny's ass and everyone's cummin'!

Okay, Jonny will bring all of this tangentiality(2) (just for you Waldo - love you!) back on topic, as if he were winding down an epic Lynyrd Skynyrd guitar solo and trying to somehow relate it back to the original melody. Why is our tax system detrimental to our economy? Because it makes it more compelling for people like Jonny to sit on their ever-growing ass than to get up, mix in a salad, and go back to work at making this country great.

So, as teased in the header of this article, how does Jonny beat the tax system? If you were hoping for some glowing shit-nugget of tax-evasion strategy, sorry. Jonny beats the Tax Man by NOT MAKING MONEY. Simple. The less money you make, the less you owe in taxes. Follow my lead - sit on your ass, get drunk, complain, and save on your tax bill. The less you do, the better off you are - it's as American as Apple Pie. Brilliant!

WHY THE FUCK would Jonny expend his time and effort and risk his money on a new business venture, so that IF Jonny's new business idea does succeed, he gets to share the fruits of his labor 50/50 (or worse) with some leaching fuck in a creepy clown costume?

Simply put, it's a huge DISINCENTIVE to entrepreneurs, innovators, and other would-be job-creators. If the chains were lifted, Jonny would gladly get up, start an enterprise, start creating jobs for civilians again, and generally start contributing to the overall wealth, gross domestic product, and standard of living for the good old U.S.A. But Jonny has a shock collar around his neck, and he has to be REALLY determined to get out of the yard before he's going to make a break for it. Actually, it's more like those collars in The Running Man - like a shock collar, except they blow your fucking head off. Pink mist, baby!

Usually Jonny likes to just bitch without offering any real solutions to his problems, because if all the problems were solved Jonny wouldn't be able to bitch. But Jonny is confident in his ability to find something else to bitch about, so he will release a little turd of wisdom regarding this bitch-fodder.

ELIMINATE THE MARGINAL RATES AND THE PHASE-OUT OF DEDUCTIONS AND CREDITS. At present, Jonny does his best to MINIMIZE his taxable income so that he doesn't get double-donged by higher marginal tax brackets and reduced deductions. How American is THAT? Am I fulfilling my destiny as a patriotic American by sitting on my ass, drinking heavily, and making as LITTLE money as possible? Maybe I was stoned and misunderstood my teacher the day we covered "The American Dream" in Dallas public school, but Marcus Aurelius had a dream that was Rome, Proximo, and THIS IS NOT IT!

However, if the C-4 Shock Collars of marginal tax brackets and deduction/credit phase-out were eliminated, and Jonny knew that he would pay the same percentage of tax whether he made $20,000 or $10,000,000, even Jonny's lazy ass would shoot for the high end.

Seems simple, huh? So go get it done - I'm timing you!

Jonny out, bitches! ♥ Love you long time!

(1) Jonny apologizes for all of the negative connotations he associates with anal sex in this article. Jonny has nothing against anal. For that matter, Jonny is conceptually cool with anal regardless of the gender of the pitcher and the catcher - Jonny is of the opinion of "Hey, whatever floats your boat!". Jonny hopes that he did not offend anyone by portraying anal as such a violent, vile act. What he meant to say is that Uncle Sam likes to perpetrate "non-consensual, forced, prison-style anal RAPE", but this post is uber-long and Jonny doesn't have the energy to go back and rewrite the entire article to sound more politically correct for the readers that like sweet, consensual, gentle, loving anal sex.

(2) Even my spell-checker choked on this word. I RULE!

Great Scenes:Tony Soprano gives Coco a curb-job.

Jonny is watching a re-run of the Sopranos tonight. Sadly, there isn't SHIT on TV worth watching these days. I'm pretty sure I have at least 200 channels, and a Sopranos re-run is by far the best thing on right now.

So anyway, this scene is AWESOME. Coco gets out of line with Meadow while she is on a date in the City - tells her, "You have a little cream on your lip...I'd love to add to it". Tony finds out, finds Coco, and FUCKS HIM UP!!! He pistol whips the guy, and then drags him over to the bar and gives him a good curbing on the base of the bar. Teeth go everywhere.

Better yet, then Tony goes to a meeting with his son's therapist where the family discusses Tony Jr.'s suicide attempt, and Tony looks down and notices a bloody tooth in the cuff of his slacks. GREATNESS!



Jonny out.

WTF???:Prestonwood Baptist Minister Arrested in Sex Sting

Jonny has not yet had time to weigh in with his religious leanings on this forum, but here's a little news item from the Dallas area that have me a little chuckle. Actually, it caused Jonny to laugh diabolically.

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02:24 PM CDT on Friday, May 16, 2008

By TANYA EISERER / The Dallas Morning News
teiserer@dallasnews.com

A Plano megachurch minister was taken into custody Thursday after authorities say he drove to Bryan, Texas, to have sex with a person he thought to be a 13-year-old.

Joe Barron, a minister at Prestonwood Baptist Church, is accused of online solicitation of a minor.

According to Bryan police, Mr. Barron had chatting for about two weeks with the person that he thought to be a juvenile. "The online conversations were sexually explicit in nature," the release said.

On Tuesday, Mr. Barron asked if the girl could meet him in person, police said. Two days later, he made the three-hour drive to Bryan to meet the girl.
Undercover officers arrested him upon his arrival, police said. In his vehicle, police said they found web-cam and headset as well as condoms, police said.
Bryan officers also searched Mr. Barron’s Plano residence where they seized a desktop, two laptops, numerous computer disks and memory cards, police said.
Prestonwood church officials also gave police officials access to his computer at the church, authorities said.

"We are disturbed and saddened by the reports we have heard and we are praying for the Barron family. We are fully cooperating with the police in their investigation," said Mike Buster, Prestonwood's executive pastor, in a statement.

The church, which as 26,000 members and 40 ministers, would not provide further information about Mr. Barron.

DMN staff writer Sam Hodges contributed to this report.

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I know, you think Jonny shouldn't laugh at this story. But I am not laughing at the plight of this pour soul that has strayed from the flock, and I certainly am not amused at the attempt by this dirty old bastard to go nail a 13 year-old. But I always find it good-times when one of these Holier-Than-Thou pricks gets exposed for the piece of shit that many of them really are. The proud members of the Religious Ruling Class always hold themselves out as pillars of society, and Jonny loves it when they are exposed for the hypocrites that they truly are.

This story is only going to get better once the authorities dissect the contents of this guy's computer. You think he might have a bit of kiddie porn stashed away? But at least he has this going for him: It seems that everyone that goes to prison finds a god of some sort, so this guy should be ahead of the game when he hits the jail.

Not to worry, his congregation is praying for him, so everything should be all better. Hey, at least he wasn't Catholic, right?

"Economic Stimulus" = More Tax for Jonny, More Consumption for YouPart I:So You Got a Check? Good for You!Now Go Fuck Yourself.

Note: Some of this post was derived from content Jonny originally posted on WestonPoker.com / BigStack.com. Jonny thanks the good folks at WestonPoker.com / BigStack.com for providing a forum for Jonny to hone and sharpen his bitterness and hatred, and Jonny also thanks all of the contributing users at WestonPoker.com / BigStack.com for providing their thought-provoking input.

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So, recently you received your "Economic Stimulus" payment from our benevolent government, or you expect to receive it soon. How exciting! So, tell Jonny, how do you intend to spend it? Jonny is dying to know! It's kind of like when your grandma gives you a gift card for your birthday, and you are obligated to call her and tell her what wonderful stuff you bought with it. Same here. Jonny deserves to know what you bought with HIS MONEY!

It's great to know that our budget surplus is so great and that our national coffers are so fat that we can afford to just GIVE money to our citizens. Notice I didn't say "GIVE BACK". I just said "GIVE". "Give back" would imply that the money went back to those who contributed it. Not so much.

Sadly, Jonny won't be receiving any stimulation from Uncle Sam. Why? Well kids, Jonny did some BAD things during his lifetime. Namely, he busted his ass for many years - working long hours, starting businesses, creating jobs for the fine citizens of the USA, and generally contributing to the Gross Domestic Product and overall well-being and standard of living of this great country. But far worse, at the same time, Jonny made the conscious choice NOT to consume every penny (or more) that he managed to generate, and as a result he still has a few bucks laying around. Jonny knows it is shameful, and he humbly accepts his punishment. In return for his many years of hard work and diligent saving and investing, Jonny gets to pay out the ass in taxes, and then instead of getting hand release, sex-in-mouth, or other stimulation from Mother Liberty, he gets to watch his tax dollars handed out to those who are more likely to "stimulate the economy" - Namely, those who are consumption-centric GOOD Americans and will take the one-time government handout and piss it away as quickly as possible, to the benefit of our nation's largest retailers and other companies.

This is the most short-sighted, ignorant, politically-motivated bullshit Jonny can fathom. But at the same time, it is GENIUS! Try to imagine the Stimulus as loaves of bread being handed out by an ancient ruler to the starving peasants of his kingdom. It doesn't cost the King much - he collects enough Tribute from his subjects to cover the cost of the bread, and relative to the King's overall budget it's a drop-in-the-bucket. It appeases the starving, desperate citizens, and perhaps prevents them from revolting against his leadership, thereby lengthening his reign and increasing the likelihood that they will not choose to replace him as their ruler. But it also wins favor with the wealthy Bakers in the kingdom, who profited from the huge one-time order for bread. Further, all of the farmers and other suppliers that do business with the bakers are thrilled for the influx of business too. Even further, all of the investors and bankers that back the bakers and their suppliers also get a taste of the wealth. So the King has managed to win favor with the lower echelon of his kingdom AND with a portion of the upper echelon by simply redistributing the wealth from the group that did not benefit from his program to those that did, and there are WAY more that benefitted than did not.

To call this is a "Rebate" is bullshit. Sure, a lot of the folks that will benefit from this program did pay some taxes. Many paid less than they will receive, and some paid nothing at all. But if there is money to throw around, shouldn't it go to those that paid MORE, not to those who paid less (or nothing). Of course not, because those folks are likely to save/invest that money. That would be BAD!

And to call it "Economic Stimulus" is even more of a leap. Here's a novel idea: If you want to stimulate the economy, place the incentives in the hands of those that have the ability to provide a sustained, long-term impact on the economy by investing, starting businesses, creating jobs, and contributing to the overall well-being of the USA. Giving cash to someone who will scurry down to Wal-Mart and spend it on a new plasma TV, Guitar Hero III, or new rims for his truck is NOT going to help our GDP. It will help the coffers of the bakers, and to a lesser extent their suppliers and investors, but once the dust kicked up by peasants shuffling for falling loaves of bread has settled, nothing has changed.

So enjoy spending my money, fuckholes. The least you can do is buy Jonny a little thank-you gift. Crown is always a good idea, but if you got $1,200 or more, Jonny expects at least 750ml of a nice single-malt. If you got more than $2,100, keep your money and get a vasectomy and stop having so many kids.

Jonny out, you leaches.

Coming Soon:

Part II: Why Jonny sits on his ass and writes these blogs instead of contributing to the wealth of our country.

Prayer Request: Reba McIntire Has Been Stricken With A Horrible Disease

Alt Title: Separated at Birth?

A while back Jonny took Mrs. Jonny to a concert in Shreveport, Louisiana, compliments of the fine folks at the Horseshoe Hotel and Casino in Bossier City and their even finer superiors at Harrah's Entertainment. It was the "Two Worlds, Two Voices" tour staring (in no particular order) Kelly Clarkson and Reba McIntire.

Jonny isn't ashamed to admit that he enjoyed the hell out of the show despite the overpowering pungent aroma of estrogen that permeated the air at the CenturyTel Center in beautiful, scenic, crime-free Bossier City, Louisiana. And no, it had nothing to do with all of the scattered cooze roaming the grounds. COME ON NOW! How many hot chicks did YOU see last time you braved a crossing of the eastern border of the great state of Texas into that shitty wasteland? Exactly. Believe it or not, Jonny DOES prefer that women have teeth. Unless you're out trolling around Red Coleman's liquor store on Samuell Blvd. in far East Dallas late at night, but that's a story for a different day.

By the way - CenturyTel is an absolute shithole as far as concert venues are concerned. Nothing but a bare floor, bare walls, and a bare metal roof to totally desecrate the beautiful sounds being produced by some extremely talented musicians. But this building is probably perfectly suited for more common Shreveport pursuits, such as motocross races, tractor pulls, and the "Bossier-Shreveport Mudbugs" (a shitty-you're-never-gonna-make-it-to-the-NHL hockey team). If you are playing for a sports team that has to hyphenate two city names, you fucked up somewhere in your life. You probably made some really poor life choices. But it's never too late - you're probably too stupid to work at Starbucks because your language skills cannot embrace such words as "Venti" and "Latte", but I hear that UPS is hiring.

This fine edifice also is home to the "Bossier · Shreveport Battle Wings" (I can't say that without laughing), which is a minor league team for Arena Football. No, sorry, the rules are the same even if some stupid twat in your marketing department decided that it was WAY cooler to put a BULLET between the names of the two shithole towns you draw from rather than a hyphen.

That's right, if you are not good enough to make a "Big Time" Arena Football League team, you can play in the second-tier AFL. Jonny wonders if guys in the minor leagues of arena football romantically refer to the "big league" of arena football as "The Show", kinda like Crash Davis in Bull Durham, and if they DREAM of taking a CHARTERED bus to away games instead of the Greyhound bus.

But don't laugh, the Battle Wings are led by none other than our own Dallas Cowboy expatriate Quincy Carter. Quincy is the exception - he DIDN'T get here as the result of poor life choices. He WANTED to be in Bossier (bullet) Shreveport playing minor-league arena football for $200 a game and supplementing his income by selling weed outside of the neighborhood convenience store. That's WAY cooler than making $800k per year plus all of the snatch you can handle being the quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys. No, seriously. I'll bet if you ask Tony Romo he'll tell you the same thing: he would gladly give up his millions and all of the world-class ass for just one opportunity to take the helm of the revered Battle Wings.

Anyway, Jonny digresses. Shocking, right?

Given the opportunity, Jonny would love to see that same show (we're back on Reba and Kelly - catch up!) somewhere with better acoustics. On top of the shithole venue, there were persistent engineering issues. Perhaps it's inherent in trying to properly mix a show where two lead vocalists and two bands simultaneously occupy the same stage, but it took a while for me to be able to overlook the fact that they couldn't get their levels right, even though they were 10 or 12 shows into this tour.

So anyway, Reba and Kelly put on a great performance despite all of the aforementioned fuckups. But Jonny couldn't help but come away thinking that Reba has been afflicted with a terrible disease. Of course, I speak of the affliction known as "JOKER MOUTH". No, I don't mean that she told too many funny one-liners or something like that. What I mean is that I think that in her early years she was visiting Gotham City during the time before Batman whipped out his 12-pound weiner and got that whole shitty scene under control, and she was tricked into sniffing the flower on the lapel of the infamous Joker. As a result, she contracted the vicious affliction known as JOKER MOUTH.

You be the judge...

EXHIBIT A:

EXHIBIT B:




and finally...

EXHIBIT C:



Jonny rests his case.

Don't get me wrong - Reba is an amazingly talented artist, and Jonny was really surprised that he knew so many of her songs, but COME ON NOW! We're all gonna get old, so just accept it and age gracefully. Just say no to the botox and the surgeon's knife so you don't start looking any more like a cartoon character.

♥ Love you long time Reba Honey. Jonny out.

WTF???:Man's Leg Found In Smoker To Be Returned;Buyer Of Smoker Had Wanted To Keep Leg

This story is from last year, but somehow Jonny missed this little gem when it was Breaking News. Jonny has a very puzzled look on his face.

---

MAIDEN, N.C. -- A South Carolina man who mistakenly lost his amputated leg when it was sold in a barbecue smoker at a public auction will get the appendage back, authorities said Wednesday.

John Wood, of Simpsonville, S.C., had been battling to regain custody of the leg from Shannon Whisnant, who found the leg in the smoker he purchased at an auction of Wood's belongings last week, WXII-TV in Greenville, N.C., reported

Whisnant had said he wanted to keep the leg if Wood wasn't willing to pay to get it back. The leg was being kept at a funeral home, the television station reported.

Whisnant said he previously charged people to look at the severed leg.

"It's mine, I want it back, I have a receipt," Whisnant said Tuesday.

He said that if Wood cared about the leg, it wouldn't have been left behind in the smoker.

Wood's leg was amputated three years ago after an airplane crash. He had been keeping the leg so it could be cremated with him when he dies.

---

So just to make sure Jonny has the facts straight:

1. This guy had his leg amputated, and then he stored it in his BBQ smoker? What condition was the leg in that he was saving? Was it a complete leg covered in decaying flesh, or was it just bones? Was it somehow preserved or stored in some sort of container, or was it just loose leg parts?


2. He sold his smoker at auction, and he didn't realize, "Oh yeah, I need to take my leg out of there first."?


3. The guy that bought the smoker actually wants to KEEP the leg?


4. The guy that found the Cracker Jack Surprise in his newly-purchased smoker was CHARGING people to look at the leg?


5. People were actually PAYING to look at the leg?


6. Are we really witnessing a custody battle over a severed leg?

My nominee for the best quote EVER is the guy who found the leg in his new smoker saying "It's mine, I want it back, I have a receipt." Jonny laughs his ass off when he pictures some bitter, angry old guy (kinda like Jonny) angrily waving his receipt and asserting his claim to another guy's smelly, decaying severed limb.

We live in a STUPID world, folks.

Jonny out. ♥ Love you long time.

Fun with Business Reply Mail

This one doesn't really need much explanation, and it really isn't very funny, so I guess this one is another Kick Square-In-The-Nuts. Jonny has a couple of vehicles manufactured by Infiniti Motors, and apparently they want to make sure that Jonny continues to buy his cars from Infiniti. Further, they hope to achieve said result by sending Jonny marketing materials in the mail. Truthfully, Jonny has been very pleased with his Infiniti's and would likely but another one. It's another topic for another day, but the Jonny-Mobile (an Infiniti Q45) is now about 12 years old and approaching 180,000 miles. Still running strong despite Jonny's best efforts at abuse and neglect. You high-brow Nissan guys are okay in Jonny's book.

So over the weekend I get a packet in the mail about the Infiniti QX56. It's their biggest SUV - a tricked-up version of Nissan's most gaudy SUV - the Armada. Jonny could not possibly describe it as well as John Pearly Huffman did on TheCarConnection.com, so he will instead quote Mr. Huffman here:

"There's something about Infiniti's new QX56 that seems unseemly. It's not that it's bigger than every other SUV (it isn't - though it's mighty big) but that it has apparently been designed to celebrate its own gigantism so brazenly. This is the SUV as hussy. It's the sport-ute equivalent of a hefty woman in a tube top, vinyl miniskirt, thigh-high boots and too much makeup."

Sounds sexy, right?

But seriously, why bother to send me information in the mail about Infiniti's latest vehicle? Who the hell buys a car based upon unsolicited information he/she receives via snail-mail about a particular vehicle? Especially a vehicle that costs in excess of $55,000 (MSRP)? Let's temporarily suspend the minor details about gas approaching $4.00 per gallon and the fact that no one in their right mind would buy an SUV these days - especially THIS monstrosity that gets 12, that's TWELVE miles per gallon. If I WERE going to spend $55-60k on a vehicle, do they REALLY think that the little postcard they send me in the mail is going to sway my purchase decision? Really? As I said in my note to the marketing think-tank at Infiniti/Nissan, if I'm interested in spending bucks like that on a car, I'm likely to go to one of their fine dealerships, or at least check out their automobile offerings on the Internet Machine. Even Jonny's old ass is not going to pursue a $60k purchase decision via snail mail. I was tempted to tug their chain a little and actually request "more information on the all-new Infiniti QX", but all that would do is generate more paper that Jonny would have to throw away, and it would not teach the desired lesson nor send the desired message. Instead, I decided to send them my own polite little message (on their dime, as always) about how stupid their marketing is. I think I made my point, but did so very diplomatically and ended it with the ever-so-sweet graphic heart and "Love you long time!"

I cannot see any point in mailings like these, except that someone has a vested interest in keeping the United States Postal Service in business (yet another "another topic for another day") by distributing this worthless, pointless shit-mail. So I spent another 30 cents or so of Infiniti's money to let them know how I felt. Maybe they'll see the light and realize that by wasting 30 cents, they got the full impact of Jonny's wisdom and may save hundreds of thousands by NOT sending out their next snail-mail/shit-mail campaign.





That is all. Jonny out, bitches!

Kicked Square-In-The-Nuts:Self-Service Checkout LinesPart II: The Solution

Part II of this series will focus on my solution to the problem of forced servitude and human slavery imposed by the retail self-service checkout line.

Sadly, Jonny has come to realize that bitching to a mega-retailer, or any mega-company for that matter, is an exercise in futility. The representative to whom you complain may feign interest in your concerns and sympathy for your plight, and they may even fabricate a response along the lines of "We are working to improve that" or "I agree with you and I will absolutely pass your comments along to upper management". But they don't, and they won't. Frankly, they don't give a shit about you or your opinions. They have thousands upon thousands of customers, and in their opinion you can pound your stupid concerns straight up your ass.

In my case, if I get pissed enough about the check-out situation and demand to speak to a "manager", I'm going to get some fat guy wearing a necktie that barely reaches his sternum who will patronize me with statements similar to those above, and then he will proceed to tell me how much he appreciates Jonny's honest feedback and how much they value Jonny's business and blah-blah-fucking-blah. In reality, he just wants to get me to leave as soon as possible so that he can go back to playing Freecell and getting handsy with the teenage help. And if I threaten with "I'll never shop here again" or "I'll take my business elsewhere", do you think he gives a fuck? Nope. Especially since all of his competitors do the same shit. They will trade customers back and forth, and as long as no one is doing a better job than anyone else, they will all share equally in this zero-sum game. Nothing is going to change, and all I'm going to do is make myself even MORE bitter and pissed off by attempting to convince Mr. Manager that his system sucks and that he needs more $6.00/hour teenagers.

So instead of twisting myself up bitching to people who don't care, I execute covert operations in the hope that the retailers will eventually see the error of their ways. Most likely they will not catch on and nothing will change, but at least I get the satisfaction of knowing that I "stuck it to the fat guy in the tiny tie".

Now, I'm not advocating that you steal any merchandise from the store. That would be wrong, right? Instead, rationalize it like I do: They are making more money by reducing their workforce and at the same time they are stealing my labor without fairly compensating me for my time when I am forced to scan and bag my own groceries. Generally, a person making close to Minimum Wage is not going to be terribly diligent about their job, so how diligent am I expected to be when I am working for FREE? Exactly!

So I might accidently overlook a few items and forget to scan them. Hey - Give me a break! They don't pay me enough to do this job diligently, plus I didn't get proper training as a grocery checker-outer. Or when an item doesn't scan, or it's an item without a UPC like produce, or for whatever reason I have to look up an item on their computer, I might accidentally pick the wrong item. And by a miraculous coincidence, the incorrectly-selected item might always cost significantly less than the actual item. Oops! Did I make a mistake? I'm sorry - I am new at this job, and during my training the manager was more interested in grabbing my ass than teaching me how to properly handle the precious assets of the store. If you pay me more, I promise I'll pay more attention and do a better job. Until then, I'm going to do what all low-wage workers do - I'm going to fuck up a lot, usually for my own benefit.

And if all else fails and they confront me with all of the mistakes I'm making while working as an unpaid, untrained employee, I'll just blame it on their REAL employee. After all, he's the one who is apparently doing all of the work. Those arrogant fucks have the nerve to print "Your Cashier was Skippy" on my receipt, so it must be Skippy's fault that I paid less for my groceries than I should have, right?

Jonny has grown tired of this topic, so Jonny out, bitches!

Kicked Square-In-The-Nuts:Self-Service Checkout Lines

Recently Jonny has been kicked square-in-the-nuts by that horrible mutation of technology-gone-wrong known as "self-checkout". These horrible technological abominations are most common in grocery stores and Wal-Mart-style superstores, but I have also found these in my local Home Depot. I'm sure they exist elsewhere, but Jonny doesn't get out much. I'm not leaving the house to buy something that I can get handed to me on my doorstep (or better yet, just left on my doorstep so I don't have to answer the door) by that man in the funny brown shorts that drives the big brown truck. In my opinion, the greatest accomplishment of the Internet is that it allows me to live my life while interacting with as few stupid people as possible. But that's a topic for another day.

Jonny is a big fan of automation, but not if it means that computers and machines save work for SOMEONE ELSE while creating MORE work for ME. In other words, these fucking machines are NOT automation at all. Nothing is any more automated than it was in the customary retail check-out process, except perhaps the handling of cash and change by the machine, although tonight I fed a $20 into the machine and Skippy, Grand Master of the Self Checkout System, handed me my change. Anyway, these devices are not an advancement by technology, but instead clever trickery by some mischievous badger at the store to get me to perform THEIR labor and save THEIR money. FUCK THAT!!!

Seriously, when did it become MY FUCKING JOB to ring up my purchases and bag my own goddamn groceries? Last time I checked, I don't get a W-2 from any of the stores where I shop. I checked my receipt very carefully, and no where do I see an "Employee Discount" or a "DIY Discount" for doing their job for them. So basically they have replaced a teenager making $6.00 per hour with my old ass making $0.00 per hour.

There are times when these contraptions are useful. During dayparts when the stores are busy enough to have plenty of conventional (i.e. employee-operated) checkout lines open, these self-serve gizmos serve as four (or more) extra Express Lanes. If I just stopped at the store to grab a handful of items, I can usually get out of there quicker if I swallow my pride and do my own grunt work. Cool. I'm fine with that. I don't mind being my own bitch if it will allow me to embark on the rest of my life a little quicker rather than spend it basking in the fluorescent glow of some tilt-wall retail hellhole while taking in all of the latest headlines about what crazy shit Britney did this week or about Brad Pitt's bitch squatting out another squid. Jonny apologizes if his gossip is not up to date.

Unfortunately, that's not usually the case - at least not when I visit the store. The retailers seem enamored with the concept of FORCING me to use these evil machines by significantly reducing (or completely eliminating) the number of conventional checkout lines open during slower parts of their business day. I frequently hit the store during their slower hours to just pick up a few items. Sometimes it's picking up a few supplies to make Mrs. Jonny a nice adult beverage at the end of a long day or week. Sometimes it's just a bag of pet food, or a case of water, or something that the Jonny household is out of. Such was the case tonight - Kitty Jonny was out of food and I had a few minutes to kill before my Chinese take-out order was ready.

So I roll up to the front of the store carrying Kitty Jonny's dinner / breakfast / lunch and two bags of late night munchies for myself (damn those impulse purchases). It's a little after 9:00 on Friday night, and the local Kroger isn't a hotbed of consumer activity, but there were a fair number of folk doing their consumption business. There is ONE, exactly ONE FUCKING LINE open. By "Line" I mean the conventional type. That line is out of the question, as I survey three SUV-size carts full of rations tended by three SUV-size bitches waiting to be serviced. So I roll over to the Self-Serve area and hope for the best. Not so much.

Theoretically, I am the next in line. Unfortunately, every store that has these goddamn machines refuses to set up an actual "line" or any sort of queuing mechanism for waiting patrons, so it seems like I invariably get fucked in the line selection/sequencing process. It's like a big public men's room with two entrances and lines at both doors for the same set of urinals - there is no good mechanism for determining who gets to piss next. Everyone tries to be the next guy to reach the open urinal without making eye contact with any of his fellow trough-goers. If I stand right in the middle, seeming to broadcast to the retail world "Hey, I get the next station that opens up", it never fails that some douchebag comes and stands on one side of me or the other, basically disallowing my assertion and claiming his half of the stations for himself in the name of Ferdinand and Isabella. "That Fuckin' Guy" is the reason why I don't carry a gun into the grocery store most of the time. Sooner or later I'm going to twist off on That Fuckin' Guy, and the outcome may not be deemed as a justified use of deadly force. So instead I usually just give him that "What the fuck?" look, including the requisite Italian-style hand gestures - he appears to understand my position, but he never seems to give up his claim.

So tonight is no different - my claim to the entire set of self-serve stations is not recognized by the United Nations or the European Union, so I end up moving to one side, where seemingly I am next in line for one of the two stations. Except that one of these stations is "down", and the women currently standing at that station are, in actuality, waiting for the NEXT station, which is the one station on this side that is not "down". I thought the whole point of replacing humans with machines is that the machines don't call in sick, don't have bad days, and generally don't fuck up the works. Not so much.

Anyway, the woman using the single remaining functioning station on my side of Gilligan's Island also has an SUV-size cart full of shit. Apparently she saw the long lines at the single fucking open conventional register and had the brilliant idea of trying to take her monstrous load through the self-serve line. Nice try, bitch. Leave the heavy lifting to the Professionals - they get $6.00/hour for a REASON. During what seemed like an eternity, I watched this dunce try to figure out how to get the machine to understand everything she wished to purchase while she paused periodically to scream at her two little bastard children that were tearing shit up over in the magazine section. Note to self - invest in Private Incarceration Firms - the prison business is only going to get better and better as this generation of shithead parents cranks out the next generation of double-shithead kids.

I thought I was finally going to twist off as I watched her try to scan a big frosted birthday-style sheet cake inside the typical grocery store plastic cake packing. The label was on top of the box, and she kept trying to figure out how to flip the cake over to scan it without ruining the cake inside the box. Dear God, PLEASE, KILL ME NOW!!! Finally, like the Vatican during the Holocaust, Skippy finally acknowledged the plight of this ignorant cunt and took his Telxon over and scanned the cake for her. Somewhere during this fiasco, Skippy told me that the "down" station was now "up" - I tried to use it, but it still wasn't working, so I told Skippy, and he copped an attitude like I was too stupid to use his precious system. I'm sorry Skippy, you'll have to forgive me - I didn't score very highly on the "Touch the big square on the screen" section of the SAT. At that point I began touching the "Start" button as quickly as I could while the machine beeped/screamed in protest. Skippy came over and tried it, because I guess he thought that HIM pressing "Start" was WAY better than me pushing it. Fuck you Skippy. You're about 10 IQ points away from being that "special" kid that pushes the carts out to the old ladies' cars. Oh wait, they phased out that job too.

Eventually the stupid whore hogging the single working station left, and the women in front of me scanned and paid for their wine, and then Jonny finally got to ring up his three items, pay for them, and go on his merry way. If my Chinese food is cold I'm gonna KICK SOME ASS! Or maybe I'll just microwave my food.

This post is already WAY too long and no one is going to read it, so I'm going to cut it off here and resume tomorrow with Part II. If anyone actually comments on this, I fully expect the comments to be "TL;DR" (too long, didn't read) and "Cliff's Notes please". Like you actually have something better to do. No, just like I have time to write this shit, you have time to read it!

Jonny out for now, bitches.

More Fun with Credit Cards

For a much more creative and much more elaborate credit card prank than Jonny's amateur attempts at humor, check out what THIS guy did. Keep clicking through the links at the end of the page - his thought process and his experiment gets wilder and wilder, and his results get more hilarious as he goes.


Part I:

http://www.zug.com/pranks/credit/

Part II:

http://www.zug.com/pranks/credit_card/

This was my favorite one:





Greatness!

Fun with Credit Card Companies

Like you, Jonny is annoyed with all of the unsolicited credit card offers I receive in the mail. I have one credit card, and I have had it since 1996. So you would think that the Capital One's and the WAMU's of the world would eventually figure out that I have never responded to one of their offers, and that they are wasting their money and our mutual time sending me this shit? But since they don't appear to be listening, I decided to try to have a little fun with them. If I have to waste my time sifting through their shit and destroying it whenever it arrives in the mail, I might as well waste a little more of their time (and a few more cents of their money) and see if I can entertain myself in the process.

I stole the idea from the guys over at BigStack.com / WestonPoker.com. As time goes on I'm sure I'll come up with more creative and funnier ways to fuck with them, but here's v1.0.

This particular offer pissed Jonny off more than most, because they sent it in an oversized brown envelope and even inserted a sheet of bubble wrap, presumably to make this particular piece of shit-mail seem larger, thicker, and therefore more important(?). Or maybe they were worried that the documents would be damaged in transit and therefore needed packing material to make sure that they arrive safely. Regardless, I wrote them a courteous note on the bubble wrap in which I thanked them for the free entertainment. We all love popping bubble wrap, right? Then I stuffed it all back in their prepaid envelope and shipped it off to them in the mail (on their dime, of course).

I have a couple more such pieces of shit-mail on my desk and I'm trying to think of what to do for v2.0. Any ideas are welcome. Just keep in mind that my intent is just to give some poor slob working in a mailroom somewhere a giggle, and at the same time to piss off the stuffed-shirt that reigns over his miserable life. The point is that I'm not trying to rebel against The Man, create social/civil unrest, or attract the interest of the BATF or FBI. This ain't Fight Club kids. I doubt anyone other than the mail guy will ever see my handiwork, but I had fun with it.