Deplatforming Jesus, getting tricked into going to church, “What’s my motivation?”, sobriety enablers, the sin of easy mode, putting hangars in trash bags instead of just leaving them out, trans-ringers in the Olympics, the mental illness of taking sports too seriously, white on white violence, wedding day three-way marketing, never-ending bad penis news, an erotic roofie story, Madcucks dates an amazon, Asterios hints to selling Maddox’s debt as bonds, the Super Clash Bros. developer calls in, the cock tease of the Hammer Mario suit, Patreon goes on a banning spree, trans-Rodney Dangerfield, and I get Sean a Christmas present; all that and more this week on The Dick Show!
Writer, Creator of the Bestest Show in the Universes, co-host of Here's What I Don't Get
Is a Rage!
Not a Rage.
Programmer and creator of Super Clash Bros., the retro Smash Brothers clone and the game we all wanted as kids. YouTube, Patreon
Is a Rage!
Not a Rage.
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If the rumors are true, it’s going to be one hell of a Cucksmas season come January–that magical time of year when procrastinating comedians unleash their untimely Christmas content onto the world, as is tradition. Judge Charles “The Ram” Ramos is scheduled for a courtroom date on January 23rd, which may possibly be Maddox’s date with the ass-pummeling cock of destiny. Maddox, Kevin Landau, and Jess; the good, the bad, and the Mental, colliding in a free for all of misrepresentation and delusion, a chain reaction of lying and implying that could destroy New York City if “The Ram” doesn’t stop it. Guilty! We remain eager and hopeful and ready to gloat and grow fat on justice, but no one has bought their tickets just yet.
I promise a spectacle. But first…
Stalking has become dating, dating has become marriage, and marriage has become Netflix–or at least the endless perusal of it. It’s not a hookup culture or a rape culture we live in, it’s a trailer culture. We build the trailers of our futures endlessly, swiping and stalking, engaging with Cliff’s notes of avatars and archetypes, ever so timidly and preciously approaching the point of familiarity marked by contempt, keeping each other at a digitally safe distance so as to avoid the Point of No Return; that sober moment of chemical inertia marked by dread. Endless dread.
A sexual recession is sweeping the nation, everyone from children to boomers are having less sex, and everything is to blame. And why not? Everything is guilty of something: distraction, inconvenience, expectation. These are the sins of the modern world. The world of the ultra-familiar where contempt is a currency that inflates wildly by the Tweet, as people are revealed to one another as the monsters we all are, and who wants to fuck a monster–especially one who’s so goddamn fat voted for Kodos? So sex is on the practical outs, but in on the theoretical. Tinder, Texting, AI blowjob machines. Theoretical sex. Obsessively saturating it into every quantum of culture, but not actually doing it. And I’m not a big theory guy, so I hate it.
Sex is humbling, in a way that nothing else is. It’s embarrassing some of the time, humiliating even more than that even when it’s in a good way, and it’s gross. The act itself is gross, but what you’ll do to get it is even worse; beg, lie, steal, waste lots of money, fuck your friends over, destroy your career. It’s the antidote to the poison of each other and the catalyst of familiarity that breeds a contempt of the self: introspection. Growth. Not being such an annoying and fat fuck. It’s humbling and awful and more of it would shut a lot of people up because it never goes according to plan.
During this terrible Christmas where one third of marriage proposals are made, remember two things. One, she doesn’t get her wedding day until you get your three-way. And two, other than liquor, sex is what brings people together. Sex and co-op multiplayer video games. Like the one below.
“For The Last Time, Denzel” by Savestate Corrupted
“Round 2 (remix)” by MCMC
“Drinking Contest 2: Alchoholics, Both Of You” by Vizzy G.
Lo and the angel appeared to Jesus behind the Olive Garden and said.
“The reason why you’re fat is because you eat processed shit all the time and do not work out.”
And Jesus said, “But I also think it’s genetic because my friend says she never works out and she’s super skinny.”
And the angel said, “I don’t give a shit. Shut up. This is the word of God. There is no point arguing with you about science and calories anyway because you obviously don’t care and just want to eat until you explode. And also, stop using your credit cards so much. Those are a sin. You don’t need to know anything else. This shit is on a need to know basis. Save for retirement, like 10% every month. Also, stop being so sarcastic on social media. In fact, delete all your previous social media posts every year.”
“Oh yeah, that would make my life a lot better,” Jesus said, “but what about family and forgiveness and stuff?”
“What are you, retarded?” The angel replied, “Those are lessons taught by literally every form of entertainment that exists around the globe–and told better quite frankly, ie, they don’t need government tax-exemption subsidies to keep them going. Disney’s got it. You motherfuckers need to learn about bonds and China.”
A complimentary thumbnail by Clay Burton.