Lucie Wilde gets a breast reduction, sneezing with a sore back, Burning Man is canceled, dancing nurses, Bill Gates microchip n-word bargain, my YouTube recommendations are ruined, a real live cuck calls in, a Bernie Bro tells me I was right–which I was–and why he did, magical beliefs, Gator’s ghosts, New York City problems that we all have to deal with, and Sean goes on That Larry Show; all that and more this week on The Dick Show!
Kremlin's favorite Kremling. Soundboard aficionado. Co-host of The Ralph Retort. Twitter.
Is a Rage!
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We don’t know when the economy will re-open, or if it will, but when it does, I plan to throw a party. It will be the biggest party the Brave New World has ever seen, to make up for all the parties that were canceled to cash in on their pandemic insurance policies. And even if no one shows up, at least all the personalities I have developed by going insane under quarantine will be there, so there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
I’m thinking July. That ought to give the nay-sayers enough time to eat their words. We’ll do the funeral after Maddox’s next embarrassing failure, but first…
Life under Martial LOL means every day has less than the day before it. Less cars outside, less things to do, less items on the shelves, less shelves, less people outside, less people on those people. I went to Walmart to buy a roll of paper towels yesterday and everyone was wearing a face mask. All of them. The irony of seeing a two-ton hippo worried about her health to the astronomical degree of contracting a lethal case of COVID-19 as she loaded up on a two-day supply of saturated fats was not lost on me–in fact it was all I needed to sustain myself for the day. That and liquor.
The line for Krispy Kreme wrapped around the parking lot. It was three hours long. And everyone was wearing masks.
Fear is high on the list of fear. Fear of choice, fear of the known, fear of the unknown–descending in that order. I will take the known over a choice and the unknown over the known. This is a cope called bravery.
I think the pandemic was blown out of proportion. It is a high-intensity flu that hits like a stripper for a cheap thrill and then leaves you soaked in debt. It’s a year’s worth of flu cases experienced in a single month and maybe social distancing did something or maybe it did absolutely nothing. People I wouldn’t trust to hook up a stereo system told me it would work. People I feel like I would have to explain the internet to told me it would work. So I don’t trust it. No one should ever have to explain the internet to anyone. It either makes sense or it doesn’t. It is a Boomer brainwashing meme that The Internet can be taught.
You can’t teach speed.
Anyway, this is what it looks like when a dying generation bargains with death. And they will continue to do so in increasingly preposterous ways as it draws near. Maybe on Nega-Easter, Satan will rise from the grave and make Boomers an offer they can’t resist: eternal life at the cost of everyone else’s. And they’ll take it. At least most of them will take it, and that’s all you need really. The Devil strips away life by majority consensus, not by individual consent.
So we have destroyed the economy for nothing–or at least nothing that can be proven in a rhyme. We are saddled with more debt than can be earned by depositing that $1,200 into anything but a casino–which I recommend doing. And now we are faced with the daunting task of figuring a way out that does not require anyone admitting they’re wrong. Sun Tsu said to always leave your enemy a way out as it encourages a frightened herd to run for the escape rather than emboldening their resolve to fight, and in that case it worked.
Thank you, everyone who locked down the country. Thank you. You beat an invisible enemy–the Nazi of viruses, from parts unknown, with blood type unknown, and with unknown hobbies and interests. And we all thank you for it. The reality is, anyone could have fucked this up, and no one did let me be absolutely clear on that. Now open the fucking country back up.
“Team Virus” by Junk Food King
“COVID TAKEOVER” by The Eleventh Testament
A thumbnail that needs your shoes, your coat, and your jacket by protski.