There are wackos, and even a few normal people, on every political site from the far right to the far left and everything in between, Breitbart being no exception. I’ve cruised through a variety of comment sections on that site, and saved the best and brightest (or worst and darkest, depending on your view of reality).
Here, copy-and-pasted (names omitted), are some things that people decided to type and send out into Breitbartia:
REPEAL Odildocare! <——‘Odildocare’ is a play on ‘Obamacare.’ The commenter is likening former president Barack Obama to a dildo, a phallic simulacrum used by men and women the world over in place of a real, live penis. –Editor
Just nuke the entire Middle East and be done with this nonsense! <—–Wouldn’t be able to get oil out of a nuclear wasteland. Oh, and also, innocent people live over there too. –Editor
Saint Bannon, not Trump, is the heart and soul and mind of the Trump Administration. <—-Steve hasn’t been canonized. Yet. –Editor
Just think, if Hillary had campaigned in blackface, she might’ve won. <——Probably not. –Editor
Facebook should be known as Gay Facebook.
(on Scarlett Johansson) She’s not even attractive anymore. She’ll be doing hard core porno in two years with Ashley Judd. <—–Save that one for Gay Facebook. –Editor
Stop ALL immigration!
I would happily go back to Europe if all the Muslims will go back to Mecca and all the blacks will go back to Africa. <—–It’s also possible for you to go back to Europe without anyone else leaving. –Editor
That’s why colleges have become retard dens for men: The EFFECTS of Feminism on MEN. <—–A MAN wrote that comment. –Editor
Trump is reminding me a bit of what was great about Nixon. <——Richard Nixon was the only president to resign from office. –Editor
And of course, the anti-Jewish comments:
Those two NY liberal jew rat bastards are nothing but out to destroy old man Trump.
Well, he’s a Jew….what do you expect?
More and more people are coming to the truth about Jews. After all the Bible says even the disciples spoke in whispers for fear of the Jews.
It was the Jews who were chosen as a foil to show the weakness of humanity.
There is only one race and religion causing the entire worlds problems right now and since it seems the entire history of man and it is NOT Islam but Jews as the entire internet and every book on the planet proves. <—-That’s as good a place as any to wrap this up. –Editor
The Corned Beef Conspiracy: Ireland Doesn’t Exist And St. Patrick Is The Meaty Equivalent Of Mrs. Butterworth
Just as Hallmark created Valentine’s Day so they could sell cards and De Beers invented the concept of marriage in order to give false value to diamonds, March seventeenth has forever become entwined with this strange salted meat, despite said meat having no basis in traditional Irish cuisine, because there is no such thing as Ireland, and therefore no such thing as traditional Irish cuisine, as we will soon see.
Oh, and also this: Colorado Premium, a company specializing in meat processing solutions, created Ireland and the myth of St. Patrick in order to sell corned beef. It’s not crazy at all. Think real hard. Do you know anyone who’s been to Ireland? Do you know anyone who’s met St. Patrick? Didn’t think so. Let’s have a look.
Colorado Premium happens to be one of the world’s largest producers of corned beef, and they also happen to have a picture of a guy wearing a hard hat on their ‘About Us’ page.
Why in the name of fictional St. Patrick’s sheleighleigh would anyone dealing with meat need a hard hat? Meat, and generally any solutions pertaining to it, involve softness. A hard hat seems like something someone who is anticipating a visit to a construction site would wear. Since construction sites aren’t necessary to meat, that means this whole thing is an Illuminati conspiracy. You see, Colorado Premium is run by Kevin LaFluer. LaFluer is a French name. France touches Germany. The Illuminati was founded in 1776 in………….Germany.
Moving right along: a quick scan of Colorado Premium’s ‘Partners‘ page shows standard industry meat alliances—Tyson Foods, Cargill Meat Solutions, Smithfield Beef Group, etc.—except for one: Tapatio Hot Sauce?
What are Tapatio Hot Sauce and a prolific corned beef producer doing in bed together?
Why, they are both shadowy victual fronts veiling the sinister plot intended to further screw the clueless herd of sheep that is the American people, of course.
In what way? Well the guy in the hard hat is obviously building something, and Tapatio Hot Sauce just isn’t that good. So we have an industrious producer of corned beef partnering with a company that makes inferior salsa picante. That means something. Corned beef. Hot sauce. Hot sauce. Corned beef. Corned sauce. Hot beef. Corned hot beef sauce.
Colorado Premium is taking that salsa picante partnership cash and using it to build a moat filled with disgusting Tapatio Hot Sauce around the United States in order to keep us
from leaving. Why do ‘They’ (Colorado Premium, Tapatio, and the Illuminati) want to keep us in? It’s pretty obvious. If the lie about Ireland is exposed, the corned beef gravy train comes grinding to a halt. Since the Earth is flat, you should be able to look out from the east coast and see the Emerald Isle. One glance and you’ll notice it’s simply not there. ‘St. Patrick’ is just the meaty equivalent of Mrs. Butterworth. Guinness is Michelob Golden tinted with discarded beef drippings.
So there you go. Hallmark, De Beers, Colorado Premium, Taptio, and the Illuminati all want you to keep buying things because they created a way for you to buy them.
Wake up America.
I think it’s pretty obvious how the Democratic National Convention is going to end: tomorrow night, right during primetime, expect Hillary Clinton and Bernie Sanders to be sown together, legally making them one person, something called Billary Slinton or Hernie Clanders, who will become the new nominee.
Or they’ll conceive a baby.
Then they’ll pump Hillary full of age-accelerating pills—something the government has been hiding from us—in order for the love child to be born and advance to an electable age by November.
Either way, I don’t care anymore.
“We cannot ban guns in this country because of a few bad apples. But we can ban an entire religion.” —The actor currently portraying Donald Trump
August 6, 2015—A Republican presidential debate occurs the same night as Jon Stewart’s final Daily Show. Backstage after the debate in Cleveland, Chris Christie, turning his nose up at the provided fruit trays, pulls a hoagie from his pocket. The toppings accidentally spill onto the floor. Christie lures Donald Trump to a dark corner and places him inside the hoagie.
Chris Christie eats a Donald Trump hoagie as the rest of the candidates watch. No one intervenes.
August 7-present—Donald Trump continues his presidential campaign. How is this possible if he was eaten and turned into fecal matter by Chris Christie?
August 6, moments after Chris Christie has licked the last drops of Trump juice from his fingers—Realizing they are all accomplices, the candidates settle on the following plan: they will hire Jon Stewart, who now has free time galore, to play Donald Trump. If there is one thing they all agree on, it is that Trump should be out of the race. Stewart will alienate voters by simply doing and saying things that Donald Trump would say and do, and as his popularity in the polls inevitably declines, he’ll drop out of his candidacy, eventually fading from public memory.
The present—Jon Stewart, in his Trump disguise, is the most popular Republican candidate.
This is just a conspiracy theory. It might not be true.
This post is featured today over at the internet comedy magazine Long Awkward Pause. So click that link and read it there, because they were nice enough to add pictures and make it look pretty, or stay here and feast your vision balls on the original. It don’t matta.
The current debate over whether or not it is necessary to construct a wall along the United States border is a complex and delicate subject. As a resident of one of the potentially affected states (Minnesota), I have compiled a by-no-means-comprehensive list of pros and cons outlining some scenarios that would possibly stem from erecting a barrier between America and Canada.
Pro—The first, and most obvious benefit of a wall: it will keep Canadians out. American jobs will go to American people. American currency will stay in America. Con—You can kiss authentic Canadian cuisine goodbye. Imagine, instead of a real Canadian using his finger or other long, dangling digit to put the hole in your Bagel de Montréal, this will now be done by a pock-faced American teenager that cannot locate Saskatoon on a map. Americanized poutine simulacrum will proliferate. No more shipments of ketchup-flavored potato chips.
Pro—Three studies have shown that catapults are the most effective way to get over border walls. Therefore, stock in an obscure Canadian ballistic laboratory will skyrocket, and American investors will suddenly have no problem with Canada. Con—The investors will collectively lose millions after throwing their money at what turns out to be a backwoods moosemilk distillery run by a Canuck with a slingshot.
Pro—A massive network of underground tunnels will be dug underneath the wall. We will cap the exit holes on the American side, and use drone strikes to demolish the Canadian entrances. Thousands will be trapped beneath the Earth’s surface, and they will evolve into a blind albino race capable of absorbing nutrients from clay. The pro here is that racism will not exist in this culture, because they are blind. Con—When the albinos inevitably make their way earthside, whether in Canada or America, hobby stores will find it virtually impossible to keep clay in stock. The owners will send their minions on a rush to clay-rich regions, giving rise to boomtowns and all of their associated vices (prostitution, massive slaughter of indigenous peoples, ruthless barons, greedy tycoons, uncouth lawmen, cowpokes riding into saloons on horseback, etc.). Hobby store owners will be the new royalty, and America will soon smell like the deepest, darkest recesses of Bob Ross’ afro after a marathon painting session.
Pro—Mexico will become the voice of reason and intervene. Future Mexican presidente Ronaldo Rodreaganez will give a historic speech, broadcast to America on Telemundo, that goes something like this: “Señor Trump (not Donald, by this time his grandson will have inherited the American dictatorship), tear down this wall.” Con—Microscopic fibers from the current Trump’s hair were sprinkled into the wall’s concrete mixture, and as that concrete set, Donald spoke to the wall every night, telling it xenophobic anecdotes and tales of his business prowess, which caused the barrier to form a think narcissistic skin that is indestructible. America falls into something similar to the Japanese period of Sakoku, in which no outsiders can enter, and no natives can leave.
Pro—David Hasselhoff will one day perform a concert on the wall. Con—The social and political messages of his music will be overshadowed by the Hoff’s well-defined cheekbones and swiveling hips. He will also be pelted by an unopened can of Molson Ice, further souring Canadian/American relations.
Sides will be taken. Hashtag activists will wear out their ‘shift’ and ‘3’ keys. Bunkers will be stocked with French fries and gravy. A counter movement will form, wanting to dig a trench instead.
The storm is coming.
Guest Post: The Hirsute Naked Man In The Gym Locker Room Discusses the Hashtag Nude Lives Matter Movement
Well, I’ve been in somewhat of a blogging drought lately, so I’m going to give sole control of today’s post to some hairy naked guy I met in the gym locker room. I made a deal with him: if he put on his damn underwear, he could write a guest post for my blog. Everyone wins: content is generated for you, the reader, and the pasty undulations in my immediate quadrant are veiled, if only for one night. So here is the first ever guest post on this blog, from The Hirsute Naked Man In The Gym Locker Room.
Hello, blog! NUDITY!!! OLD, NAKED MEN!!!!! HAIRY BACKS!!!!!! SCROTUMS SWAYING GENTLY IN THE GALE PRODUCED BY THE GLORIOUS POWER OF AN XLERATOR-BRAND HAND DRYER!!!!
I apologize. I was using the attention-grabbing tactic of beginning a manifesto with a series of edgy words. So don’t worry, it was all for show.
And now that I’ve got your attention, let’s talk about public male nudity in men over the age of 70. This is a demographic that has been pushed to the fringes of society, marginalized, insulted, and universally regarded as an outdated herd of soured, pickled meatbeasts with nothing important to say.
Well I importantly say this: public nudity serves many purposes in this crazy rat race we call life, which is sort of ironic, because if life really were a rat race, we would all be naked, like rats are all the time. You know what I’m talkin’ about, how they just crazily scramble around and pile up on top of one another, having hours and hours of naked rat fun.
When was the last time you saw a good old-fashioned fleshy pile of humanity, writhing around and whoopin’ it up, just like rats do every day? Time was, we called it Saturday Night. Now? Sheesh, I call it a win if I catch the vague outline of a man’s penis through his fancy dress pants.
Which brings us to the tale of how I landed this gig as a guest blogger. ‘Twas a Monday night. Or was it a Wednesday? Time and space bend in odd ways when you bask in the illumination of nudity, you must understand. Anyways, due to a remodeling job, the local gym has been rather empty lately. So, after patrolling the locker room for a few hours—nude, obviously—I realized I hadn’t seen anyone for a very long time, so I was about to call it a night and take my third steamy shower in the provided facilities when in walks some clothed gentleman.
Excellent, I think to myself, this room could use a fresh pair of bare buttocks. I lurked around the corner, waiting for him to derobe. I can’t tell you how disappointed I was when all the guy does is change from his regular short pants into his gym shorts. And to make matters more ridiculous, he was wearing some sort of garment under his shorts that covered his genitals while he made the switch!
My world was shook—left became right, up became down, all-out bare-assed glory became heavy winter-layering.
So I strut over there, throw my foot up on the bench, and lean my elbow on my knee, a position that is the absolute last word in nude comfort, plus it gives your hammy a bonus mini-stretch, and makes the upper parts of your lower body more readily available to receive any breeze that my happen to be blowing through. And I say to the guy, I say, “What better place than here, what better time than now, is there to be nude?”
He says something not pertaining to nudity, so I press on: “Nice locker room, right. Got showers and everything. Real nice showers,” the implication here being that showers require one to be naked.
Again, his retort has absolutely nothing to do with the action of being completely devoid of clothing, and then he mentions something about a computer blog. Who is this guy? For realsies?!
So, having accurately pegged this guy as a ‘clother,’ I try to coax him out of his shell by explaining to him my method of getting dressed, even though this event is very stressful to me.
I won’t bore you with the details, but when I finally do get dressed, pants are the absolute last thing to go on. Even after the shoes. You’re probably asking yourself, ‘Doesn’t this cause him to wobble, teeter, and stumble around as he struggles to pull his pants over his shoes, grabbing on to whoever is near for support while his anus is exposed and his genitals swing free?’
The answer to that question varies. Sure, there have been times when I lost my balance and tumbled into an unsuspecting locker room patron. Whether or not any of my private parts brushed against that person is up for debate.
On the other end, there have been plenty of occurrences when I successfully pulled my pants on over my shoes, free of any incidental contact with standers-by. In the end, it all cancels out.
Anyways, all this talk of dress has gotten me off track. I, along with my fellow free-hanging septuagenarian brethren, have been hearing a lot about all sorts of lives mattering, with no mention whatsoever about nude lives. Where do we fit in to the mix, huh? Where’s all the coverage of police ruthlessly gunning down an innocent nude man? I haven’t seen any. Did you know that many businesses will flat out refuse to hire a naked applicant that fits all qualifications for an open position? How about the act of segregating us beautiful, naked, hairy nudes into a small locker room?
Hashtag nude lives matter, man.
So, where do nude, old, hairy men stand in today’s society? In America’s gym locker rooms, is where we stand, and soon we shall burst forth from these prisons, walking very slowly, carrying towels but not using them to cover anything up, and coughing every fifteen seconds.
The world will know us.
-love, the hairy naked man from the gym locker room