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What Christmas Songs Can We Still Listen To?
Christmas is almost here, everyone. Time to decorate the tree, bake some cookies, and kick back by the fire while listening to some tunes. You’ve probably got that fire going because it’s cold outside. But don’t listen to that classic ode to rape, ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside.’
After boycotting (and out-screaming anyone who says it isn’t about rape) that song, I began listening to a playlist of old hits. It turns out that the biggest war on Christmas has already arrived in the form of classic Christmas music.
Read the lyrics of any Christmas song, and if you look hard enough, you’ll see that all of them refer to some kind of illicit activity. The following list is by no means comprehensive. Feel free to comment below with your own discoveries.
Here are the most obvious allusions to criminal activity that I found:
–All I Want For Christmas Is You. A crystal clear nod to sex trafficking.
–Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. Thinly-veiled commie ballad.
–Let it Snow. Cocaine.
–I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas. Alt-right white supremacy. And also cocaine.
–O Holy Night. Secret slang in the world of cocaine users (cocaine is snorted through holes).
–O Little Town of Bethlehem. Way before Jesus became Bethlehem’s most famous export, this little town produced a large amount of blow.
–Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer. Hmm, let’s see. Grandma drinks to much eggnog and decides she’s going to walk home? Any old person worth their salt would fall asleep, and that’s before the powerful effects of eggnog set in. See where this is going? You guessed it—Grandma took a few zips of nose candy and unwittingly wandered right into Santa’s flight path.
–Back Door Santa. I just found out about this song, and boy am I one steaming little cup of decaf. At first, I believed it to be about anal sex (I heard some youth at Target use the term), but then I remembered that a lot of cocaine arrives in this country via little balloons packed full of white lightning, which are then inserted into the rear end (back door) of the intended mule.
–Mele Kalikimaka. This is simply what comes out when someone who is coked to the gills tries to say ‘Merry Christmas.’
So this Christmas season, you may as well skip right ahead to Easter music. I recommend the Rolling Stones, who named themselves after the stone that was rolled away from the tomb of Jesus.
Photo by Ylanite Koppens on Pexels.com
Moses And His Migrant Caravan Blown To Smithereens By US Military
In a pretty cool fusion of current events and biblical lore, the prophet Moses (who killed a guy one time) and his migrant caravan were blown to smithereens as they arrived at the US border, ending their 40-year journey through the desert with a bang.
After leaving Egypt—a major shithole—the caravan just kind of wafted through the wilderness and for the purposes of this story landed in the Mexican desert. Fox News believers looked on with horror as a convoy chock full of Middle Easterners made its way towards US soil.
Anyways, as the immigrants strolled up to the Texas border, the US military carried out the true hope of Donny and his followers, and blew the whole shebang to smithereens.
That’s pretty close to how it went down in the Bible, right?
Infographic: 2018 Election
Whether you’re voting red, blue, independent, or not at all, I think everyone can agree on the message of the above graph. Migrant caravans, pre-existing conditions, beer, the line covers all that. It dips, dives, dips again, and rises at a few points as well. The intersection of ‘C’ and ‘90%’ is particularly telling.
You would be wise to share this on your conservative uncle’s wall, or tweet it out to that libtard up the street. We cannot afford to ignore this information.
If you find yourself in a heated online argument, produce this graph, sit back and wait for your opponent to type the words ‘you’re right. I apologize.’
So get off your duff and vote, or by the time we get to ‘G,’ things very well may reach 120%, or, equally as bad, -5%.
The future of people depends on it.
A Look Inside Today’s Conservative Home
Establishing shot: A really goddamn nice house, not unlike the one in Last Man Standing.
Interior shot: A teenage girl enters. Here we go. A pure, uncut look at the conservative values of 2018 America.
Teenage girl (TG): “Daddy, I need to talk to you.”
Conservative White Father (CWF from here on out): “The stock market is booming. Make it quick.”
TG: “Um, a boy from school….he tried to assault me last night. Sexually.”
CWF: “Prove it.”
TG: “I…..can’t.”
CWF: “Here’s some advice, daughter. Let’s say you were sexually assaulted—which you most certainly were not, from what I’m gathering here—at least have the decency to call me immediately after, or better yet, during. The Chinese invented Barack Obama.”
TG: “But I’m telling you, it really happened.”
CWF: “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. How insensitive of me. I’ve been totally out of line. The boy is…..brown, isn’t he? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? (the father pulls an assault rifle out of his shirt) I’m going to kill this son of a bitch.”
TG: “No, he is white.”
CWF: “And you’re trying to drag his name through the mud? For rape? Or in this case, attempted rape? Do you realize how many of Elton John’s records Republicans have broken since 2016?”
TG: “I…..what?”
CWF: “As a thought experiment, let’s say it did happen. Were you being a tease?”
TG. “No.”
CWF: “You were probably dressed kind of slutty, though.”
TG: “No, not at all.”
CWF: “Well those are the only two options. But you know what? Now that I’m looking at you, I’ll be darned if I wouldn’t date you. You know, if you weren’t my daughter.”
TG: “Gross, dad.”
CWF: “No, it’s not gross at all. Us conservative white men see nothing wrong or strange about stating how attractive and dateable our daughters are. This is normal behavior. Now if I was talking about screwing my son, that would be weird.”
TG: “Dad, that’s my brother.”
CWF: “Well, you should probably go up to your room and have your period.”
TG: “Aren’t you going to do anything about the boy who tried to rape me?”
CWF: “Well, as you said earlier, you don’t have proof. Tell you what, I’m going to humor you. Let me have a look at his Facebook page.”
TG: (Brings up the dude’s Facebook page) “Here.”
CWF: “Okay. Now we’re getting somewhere. Last night, you say? (scrolling) Well, I have some bad news for you, daughter. He’s innocent. You see this? He posted ‘Getting white-boy wasted with Ball-sac and Jimbo.’ Nowhere in that statement does he say that he is raping anyone. We will soon have an army in space.”
Conservative White Mother (CWM) enters: “I have finished cleaning.”
CWF: “The daughter thinks she was sexually assaulted. Rich white men should not pay taxes.”
CWM: “Was she dressed inappropriately and being a tease?”
CWF: “It says no. I think this whole thing is just her way of telling us that she enjoys the recent historic tax cuts and burning Nike shoes.”
CWM: “Probably. We do have an extra two dollars and fifty cents per week.”
Conservative White Father grabs his wife by the pussy. “Is dinner ready?”
CWM: “I am just going to let you grab my pussy. It will be a little while before dinner is ready. Why don’t you lecture me about birth control while we wait?”
CWF: “I want dinner now.”
CWM: “I just put the chicken in the oven. It’s unsafe to eat. ”
CWF: “NOT FOR MEEEEE!!!!!!” He rips off his human mask, revealing a scaly, reptilian head. He walks into the kitchen and takes the raw chicken out of the oven. “DINNER IS SERVED!!!!!!!! I SHALL WASH IT DOWN WITH A TALL, COOL GLASS OF LIBTARD TEARS!!!!! RAAAAAAAAWR!!!!!” The rest of Conservative White Father’s lizard body rips out of his human costume as he takes large bites of raw chicken.
Conservative White Mother picks up the pile of human moltings. “These were due for a wash anyways.” She turns to the camera. “Help me. Please.”
TG: “Is anybody going to do anything about my situation? No? Alright then.”
The screen transitions to a pile of flaming Colin Kaepernick jerseys surrounded by Russian nesting dolls. Fade to black.
The Folly Of A Border Wall Vs. The Interdimensional Chess Game Of An Avid Golfer
“I would build a great wall, and nobody builds walls better than me. I’ll build a great, great wall on our southern border, and I’ll have Mexico pay for that wall. Mark my words.” —We all know who said that
Last week, President Donald Trump viewed prototypes for a wall that will be great, and built in the best way.
One person has said that the wall is a waste of money and also a waste of money. And in addition to the billions of dollars that will be wasted, he says, a lot of money will also be wasted. Trump later called him a ‘fart-head’ on Twitter.
Another critic, known to Trump as ‘poopypants,’ has pointed out that while the wall will be anywhere from eighteen to thirty feet high, that only covers 1/10,000 of the area between ground level and the upper atmosphere of Earth, leaving a lot of room for flying machines to carry people over it. Here, look at a drawing that shows this:
And this other guy, dubbed ‘fat ugly human’ by Trump, has wondered what happens at the Gulf of Mexico and the Pacific Ocean. He believes that this is what will happen:
Yet another miserable sack of human shit believes that people will be able to tunnel under a wall. He’s such a sack of shit, according to Trump, that the shit sack doesn’t even get a graphic.
Where is this going, anyway?
It’s going here: we’ve got to face the music. We are all drooly-sniffing-our-own-poopy-fingers-farty-poop-pants-peons and Mr. President is playing a game of interdimensional chess that transcends space and time, so let’s believe what he says.
That’s why Mr. Trump said last week he wants to start a ‘Space Force,’ like the Air Force, only in space.
So when people try to go over, around, or under the wall, I’m guessing the Space Force will be able blast them with space lasers. And yeah, they’re called space lasers, but they also work on earth. Here’s how it works: the lasers come through the atmosphere and go bing bong bing bong, transmogrifying from space beams into a form more suitable for earth.
Wall discussion—over. Unless Trump suddenly decides it’s a bad idea. Then I’m okay with it not being built.
Breitbart’s Best and Brightest
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
Corned beef.
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.
Why?
Because.
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
she’s cheating on mr. butterworh with a fake saint
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.
If #AllLivesMatter, That Means I Can Do Whatever I Want With This Dead Guy, Right?
I recently read on the internet that all lives matter. Read: since only things with lives matter, that automatically means that anything without life, any object lacking that essential élan vital, is second class scum and not worthy of our time. All of this pleases me, ‘cuz I’ve got this dead guy.
This dead guy does not matter one bit. It’s right there in the hashtag. That gives me the go-ahead to really go to town on this corpse. Sex. I didn’t say it. You were thinking it. Anyways, there are a lot of non-sexual things you can do with a worthless body that just wouldn’t fly with a live person. I plan to stab it first. After that, I’m going to throw it off my balcony and see if it explodes on the concrete below.
That’s it. That’s all I want to do with the dead guy.
I Like To Keep My Personal Opinions And Beliefs Off Of The Internet
*caution: the following post mentions bodily functions. why? i don’t know. perhaps they are being used symbolically as a way to say that we all need to find some sort of common denominator in these divided times. or they’re a metaphor shining light on the crumbling infrastructure of…..something. but maybe, just maybe, if you highlight every fourth letter of this post, it will reveal a hidden message.
We all have annoying Facebook friends that shellac us with political posts, gym selfies, and pics of their butt-ugly babies—nothing new to talk about there.
Personally, I like to stay away from ‘putting myself out there’ on the internet. I have boundaries. I don’t need people to know everything about me.
When it comes to social media, my movements are few and far between. Every now and then, I guess, I’ll crowdsource a question that seems important to me. Like lately, for instance, I’ve had this thing going on with my bowels. Without getting too deep into the problem, here’s the gist: I will go about three days without defecating, and then BOOYA—like a warm and cold front colliding, a frenzied twelve hour period ensues in which a torrential downpour produces up to twenty four inches of excrement (to put that in scale: one inch of excrement is equivalent to 36 inches of snow, and 72 inches of rain). If someone knows what would cause this, by all means, pipe up. Yes, you there. What’s that? Who am I going to vote for in the upcoming election? Your mom. Did you not just hear, a moment ago, that I prefer not to share those things on the internet?
Anyways, after this purge, my intestines will lay dormant for another 72 hours. Sure, they’ll bubble, they’ll gurgle, and sometimes even squeak, but there will be absolutely no productive action. Nada. Pardon? Where do I stand on people using the pubic bathroom that they identify with? I’m not going to comment on that, but if I happen to be in one of my violent defecation cycles and a women’s restroom is the only one available, let’s just say I’m going to start feeling very womanish for a brief period of time. I’m not going to sit over here and apologize if some little girl has to listen to that.
This brings us to the color of my pee. For example, I drink a lot of water, so normally my urine is pretty clear, like a mountain creek, or saran wrap. In the morning though, it’s more yellow, probably because I am not able to take in as much water while I am asleep, which results in a deeper urinary shade. Hmmm? Repeat that please. Ah yes, the Confederate flag and free speech. This is similar to the restroom situation above. If I were in dire need of bath tissue and a Confederate flag were the only thing lying around, I suppose I would use it to wipe. I would use any flag to clean myself if that was all that was available.
So back to my pee. Sometimes I have trouble going, and OH GOD WHAT NOW? Fine. You want me to share something personal? Here goes. I’m going to hand you a filthy, dirty secret. I try to use public bathrooms as much as possible. I do. It’s gross, and it’s part of my life. It slashes my toilet paper budget, and if the thing clogs, hey, not my problem. Some teenager named Ashton or Aiden or Sean’Trell gets to clean it up, and it’ll probably learn some sort of valuable life lesson in the process, like the fact that a guy with a spinach-rich diet who only poops every three days will produce thick tubes of green feces capable of clogging a jet-flush public toilet. That’s something you just don’t learn sitting in a government-funded classroom. There. I said something about the government. Now I suppose you want me to click ‘love’ on the picture of your fat, stupid baby. Not gonna happen.
And by the way, sometimes, when I’m in the public restroom, I’ll unwind a little extra toilet paper and take it home with me. Is that a crime? It is a public bathroom. The things inside belong to the public. I am part of the public. Now you probably think I’m some uber-liberal Hillary supporter. Yes, I’m going to vote for her, provided she delivers a solution to my mysterious bowel thing. If Trump can figure it out, then I’m in his corner. Maybe I’ll be in the Dollar Tree bathroom one day and a friendly woman dressed like a man will recognize my symptoms and help me out. There’s no way of knowing.
The Philosophunculist 