One Other Bum I would Donate Money To

The Purpose of Blogs

My goal in updating this blog is to provide cheap entertainment for the slim readership the site has.

Why don't I create a blog bemoaning the fact that my parents didn't buy me a pony? Or an Internet-speak account of the time I took a shit and called my girlfriend? The type of blog that millions have polluted the fucking Internet with?

Example:

"lol wat u 1337en LMAO! hee hee john called, i luv himm?!!!

lol jk bye...

PrincessGirlJessBabey256"

Of course, this is an exaggeration; typically, the blog is less to the point, has an ugly background giving me optical siezures, a shitty song playing, and random text jumbled together without a single goddamn "Enter" button pressed to seperate the crap.

My example represents the very best of this style of blog.

Let's be honest; the overwhelming majority of individuals living on this Earth, myself included, lead trite and hideously monotonous daily existences.

The typical day in such a life is an insult to the infinitesimal bandwidth required to record it, let alone the readers' lives that it wastes.

Therefore, I will never, ever record such trivial, meaningless details.

I will leave this to the millions of sexually repressed, retarded, Gothic, fucked up, fugly, sexually deviant, molested, abused, animal raped, and otherwise screwed up girls, boys, Catholic priests, politicians, and hideous monsters that pollute Internet blogs and make the worthwhile reading damn near impossible to find.

And goddamn it, someone intelligent post comments for a change.

More Cool Videos

http://www.big-boys.com/articles/chinesefood.html

http://www.big-boys.com/articles/smokeape.html (The audio commentary is priceless)

The Only Homeless Bum I would Give Money To

Wow, this is Too Much

http://www.big-boys.com/articles/japtalentshow.html

Life Sized Dominatrix Teddy Bear

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20050524/od_nm/swiss_hardcoreteddy_dc



This should be the official mascot of San Francisco.

ZURICH (Reuters) - A giant dominatrix teddy bear wearing a leather mask and brandishing hand-cuffs has been banned from sober Zurich's street display of man-sized model bears, the project's artistic director said Tuesday. While tourists pose for snaps next to a brightly-painted and benign array of models such as the "schoolteacher bear" and the "skier bear," "Baervers" -- a pun on the German for perverse -- has been deemed too steamy for the financial capital's streets.

"This bear is perverse, dominatrix and hardcore. We had to ban it because of the children," Beat Seeberger-Quin, the project's art director, told Reuters.

The offending bear, which sports bright red lipstick, a corset and thigh-length leather boots, stands atop a pedestal bearing the words "first class service."

Some 600 teddies, variously decorated by artists, stud the streets of Zurich and its airport in the "Teddy-Summer" project.

The controversial model had been allocated a place near Zurich's Paradeplatz, home to Switzerland's top banks such as Credit Suisse and UBS, before Seeberger-Quin spotted the final design and decided to ban it.

The dominatrix bear's creators now seek a private home for their sadomasochist teddy. At least "Baervers" will not face the same hazards as his publicly-displayed peers, some of which have been vandalized or even kidnapped.

"Two or three of the bears have been splashed with paint, and one bear -- a nice small bear wearing a little dress -- has been stolen," Seeberger-Quin said.

High School Graduation

A few months ago, I graduated from high school. I abhor the concept, having already “become deathly ill” during junior high school festivities.

However, the situation was not so simple this time around; if I didn’t go, my mother would bitch and mope for the next four months.

My father, conversely, was partial towards my position; after all, he had skipped his high school graduation.

At that point, I considered what a lazy, good-for-nothing, dependant individual I was/am.

I attended.

Of course, this didn’t involve following proper decorum and protocol. On “the big day”, I was the very last graduate there, arriving eighty minutes late.

In a half-serious, half-jocular manner two administrators interrogated me, "Almost thought you wouldn’t make it. Where were you?"

I had prepared for this.

In a tremulous voice, gasping for air, I replied,

"My grandmother was admitted into the emergency room earlier today with acute chest pains. The situation seems serious."

I lied.

Suddenly, the malicious sneer of Mr. Admin transformed into the gaping, wide-eyed, dilated-pupils expression I loved observing. After offering me his sincere, heartfelt condolences and further accompaniment, I passed him.

In the graduate’s reception room, I marveled for the millionth and last time how these Neanderthal apes avoided soiling themselves on a daily basis.

A Russian girl named Maria, soon to enter Chicago U., was explaining her special secret to everyone within earshot for the third cycle;

"You see, there’s a…. you know…. emotional stability difference between a lesbian and a bisexual like myself. I’m more out on my own, taking my chances… lesbians have a better support base…. it’s tough"

No male, female, cat, or dog would fuck her with a ten-foot pole, so this was her method of attracting attention. She should have come equipped with twenty shots of tequila instead.

I would vote her "Most Likely to Rape a Male Quadriplegic."

Then, we walked out. "Pomp and Circumstance" was being played. I didn’t see the administrators.

I ignored the faculty.

All I saw were the parents, friends, and relatives in the bleachers standing and cheering.

The event was overwhelming for me.

Too much.

I hated all of them. I hated them with a violent passion. Could they not see through the bogus sham that this was? What was the meaning? What was the point? The graduates were no different than they had been several minutes prior. Was the donning of a goofy hat and black cape a magical transformation into a well-adjusted, sophisticated, successful adult? Would new underwear have accomplished the trick just as well?

Did these parents desperately thirst for this petty illusion so they could obscure, no, forget their children’s ridiculous shortcomings, failures, and petty mean-spiritedness?

Do they lack independence? Are they so many sheep that the sugar coated, syrupy, hollow words of rich bastards constitute the necessary vindication for their lives and souls?

Where were the people that would have laughed at this ceremony? Not given it a second thought?

Realized that it was an element of a child’s world, not the adult realm graduates and parents alike should be living in??

Suddenly, I realized what was going on. In a few short months, these diaper-clad graduates would permanently leave their elders. The parents desperately needed something to hold on to, something to believe in.

The ceremony constituted their avenue of escape from cold, hard reality, their drug. This way, they could believe that their son/daughter was different, changed for the better, a success.

Even when everything else indicated otherwise.

Is the world truly so bleak and boring? Do people suck this much?

Holy fuck…

Overcoming the apex of my religious zeal, I noticed the valedictorian’s speech was beginning. The individual was an anti-intellectual, bug-eyed hysteric who liked to perform stoner impressions at lunchtime.

The speech consisted of anecdotes about nose picking, heroin, and performing cartwheels at night. (At least it was personal experience) They laughed.

I sat there, with the same grim, metallic, hard-faced, menacing expression. I couldn’t see my father in the stands. I knew he wore the same look.

Instead, I saw the huge families of Chinese, whites, but especially Indians.

The latter group got to me.

I had brought along three family members for the event. The average white or Chinese/Japanese/Korean graduate brought between five and seven.

The Indians brought upwards of fifteen.

I saw them, the foul-smelling eighty year-old who spit when he talked, the middle aged harpy hag that had escaped extermination by Jason and the Argonauts, the disobedient, mind-bendingly stupid and fugly little shits that were their children and grandchildren.

The vermilion marks painted by Americanized Indian women in a superficial, last-ditch attempt at reuniting with the culture they had long since abandoned…..

Holy fuck…

Next was the speech by the director of the school, who was stepping down.

Everyone hated her. She was responsible for the resignation of the most loved, well-respected teachers in the history of the school, including my favorite teacher ever.

She had taken $90,000 out of the student budget to buy a fourth Ferrari. Thanks to this kind and selfless gesture, students were perpetually left without any beverages during lunchtime.

The speech lasted an entire half-hour, while everyone suffered under the stifling, scorching, humid weather.

She cried.

She spoke about her love for all the students. How she wished them the best.

She talked about living the rest of her life in a deeply remote location. There were several Henry David Thoreau references.

As it turned out, this "wilderness in the middle of nowhere" was a beautiful, luxurious house in the most upscale section of Carmel, California. The same house costs more there than it would in the most exclusive sections of Hollywood.

She talked about kissing the ground, being at one with nature.

My father laughed, remarking that " ‘kissing the ground’ is a metaphor in Russian and English for being killed".

I certainly wished her dream comes true.

We then observed the Indian Amit, graduating president of NHS, lighting the "Lamp of Knowledge". Of course, before this, he said,

"I’d like to say that the class of 2005 is the sexiest one yet!! Holla!!!!"

It’s a shame they haven’t created the "Armchair of Homicide" for this hip club DJ yet.
Then, graduates received their diplomas.

I was shocked. The hottest, kindest, most interesting girls received faint applause, even the
Indian ones with dozens of relatives.

The ugliest, most shallow, cum-guzzlers received mad plaudits.

I received a warm ovation. This frightened me.

Amit was granted an emperor’s entrance, a deafening roar.

Holy fuck…

When the hell finally ended, it was time for the keynote speaker.

I had been to graduation last year. That year’s speaker was a lesbian feminist defense attorney who talked about the awful discrimination women face.

Her speech was almost as long and monotonous as the torture I had just been subjugated to.

I rationally expected to hear about racial discrimination or sexual preference-oriented discrimination this year.
I casually joked with a friend right next to me about him not showing up.

The subsequent individual and his speech shocked me.

It was good.

Damn good.

The man was a former CEO of Atari.

He gave wonderful, completely accurate advice. His speech had more content than the hundreds of hours of administrator talks I had heard from kindergarten to twelfth grade.

It barely lasted five minutes. Incredibly easy to follow, witty, short, insightful.

There are more interesting people in this world than I had originally anticipated. Time to forget about the laughable, menial high school world and focus on larger, better things.

The Man Who Wanted to Know Everything

I walked in silence under the billowing trees, feeling the cool winter air against my face. I was making my weekly sojourn to the middle school to teach an after-school club, and wondering what the hell to teach once there, having no clue then. I felt the soft grass beneath my shoes, not a soul within fifty feet of me, and knew this was the most relaxation afforded to me for the next two hours. My intention was to arrive a little early and conjure up a random lesson.

I walked up to the middle school building and opened the door.

The relaxed silence of the interior was invigorating, evoking a deep sense of peace. I sat down on one of the couches, and started pensively munching on an apple. One could almost fall asleep here……

"Excuse ME! MAY I help you??!!" a strange, loud, square-shaped head addressed me, having
just recently popped out of one of the middle school classrooms.

At first glance, it looked like a clown on vacation from work.

Waking up slightly, I realized it was actually a teacher.

"No."

At this, the man became confused, clearly expecting a "yes.". His stupid grin disappeared, and he looked perplexed. Clown school had not taught him how to handle these types of situations. He went back inside the classroom.

Ah yes, I can finally continue enjoying myself…

Ten seconds later, he comes back out, having finally arrived at the next idiotic question;

"Are you looking for a student or a locker?"

Let’s see dumbass; I’m sitting on a couch, trying to fall asleep, and have already answered no once.

"No." Maybe he is hard of hearing.

The man is further perplexed, and decides it is time to unload the heavy artillery.

"What are you here for??"

"I teach a club here."

The man suddenly springs back half a step, his eyes widen, and he makes eye contact with me.
Had I said, "I molest little children", he would have been less surprised.

"….Uh…..Hmmm…… You know, the club only starts in about four minutes or so. You can wait here in the meanwhile." giving me a knowing, generous glance.

Thank you Detective Dipshit, for stating what I already know and suggesting an activity I am presently engaged in.

Meanwhile, he has started shaking his head up and down in a maniac nod, one of Binky the
Clown’s hallmarks.

I nod my head slowly back at him. Knowingly.

It’s best to humor the mentally unstable.

Original Writing will be Posted Tomorrow

Suffice to say that it vastly exceeds the filler content I have been posting for the past couple of months.

Homosexual Israelis Thirst for Sex with Arabs

Does anyone else notice that real news stories are becoming more and more ridiculous?

NEW YORK (Reuters) - Two gay Israeli men have installed a huge double bed in a New York art gallery and are inviting Arab men to become their "lover" as part of an exhibition called "Sleeping with the Enemy."

But the artists who like to be known simply as Gil and Moti talk about the project in romantic terms, saying it's about "falling in love" rather than sex.

"The bed is there for us to live in. Artistically there are three pillows to symbolise unity of three people which goes along with the whole concept of make love not war," he said.

The sales pitch for the show in which the two live and work in the gallery surrounded by their art reads: "Israeli artists Gil and Moti are gay, married and in love. For 5 weeks, they court an Arab lover."

Since late 2002 they have made contact online with as many as 300 Arab men from across the Middle East. They typically send a message through a dating site asking if they can paint a picture from the man's photo and explaining who they are.

They then scan and e-mail the painting as a means of "seduction" and hopefully start a dialogue and meet, Gil said.

The gallery called Jack the Pelican, in Brooklyn, is displaying over 100 of the watercolours, priced at $700-$900, along with some transcripts of e-mail exchanges, photos and oil paintings and the bed.

"We felt frustrated with the political situation in the Middle East," said Gil. "As Israelis, we grew up with Arabs but we were encouraged by the education system to hate and abuse them so we thought we must do something about it."

"So we decided to fall in love with one of them."

The Most Boring News Story Ever.... Until the Last Sentence.

MOSCOW (Reuters) - A Russian village was left baffled Thursday after its lake disappeared overnight.

NTV television showed pictures of a giant muddy hole bathed in summer sun, while fishermen from the village of Bolotnikovo looked on disconsolately.

"It is very dangerous. If a person had been in this disaster, he would have had almost no chance of survival. The trees flew downwards, under the ground," said Dmitry Zaitsev, a local

Emergencies Ministry official interviewed by the channel.

Officials in Nizhegorodskaya region, on the Volga river east of Moscow, said water in the lake might have been sucked down into an underground water-course or cave system, but some villagers had more sinister explanations.

"I am thinking, well, America has finally got to us," said one old woman, as she sat on the ground outside her house.

Attack of the Freaks!!!

Evil Demon "Popo Bawa" Rapes Men

CHAKE CHAKE, Tanzania (Reuters) -

Mohammed Juma starts to sweat and fidget as he recalls his rape by Popo Bawa, the most feared spirit-monster of the Zanzibar spice islands.

"We believe reading the Koran is our only defence, nothing else," says the 41-year-old driver and father of four. "But Popo Bawa is real, and well prepared."

Holidaymakers on the Indian Ocean islands tend to smile dismissively at accounts in guidebooks of the bat-like ogre said to prey on men, women and children. But for superstitious Zanzibaris a visit from the sodomising gremlin is no joke.

Although no one ever has seen it, belief in the monster and his unnatural lust is so strong that entire villages will sleep out of doors for protection: Popo Bawa (Swahili for Bat's Wing) prefers to attack behind closed doors at night.

In huts set amid rustling groves of jackfruit and mangoes on Zanzibar's Pemba island, victims told Reuters in interviews that they detected a bad smell, became cold and went into a trance in the moments before they felt the creature's inhuman strength.

Some attacks were heralded by the sound of giant wings and claws rattling and scraping on huts' tin roofs. Others cringed in terror at what sounded like a car engine ticking over.

"We heard a rustling on the roof," recalls Asha Saleh, in her late 50s, in Machomanne village near Pemba's main town of Chake Chake. "I felt someone fondling me. I felt very cold. I felt weak," she said, recalling the attack some 35 years ago.

"I couldn't call out for help to my husband who was lying asleep beside me. Popo Bawa is strong: He really presses down on you. And it took such a long time: One hour! Eventually I lost consciousness. And I was one of many who were attacked."

Many on the islands are adept at exorcisms, placing charms at the base of fig trees or sacrificing goats to avert evil or draw favour from the spirit world.

But no placatory offering or witch doctor can deflect Popo Bawa when he has made his mind up to strike, islanders say.

The monster favours Pemba, the poorer and more backward of the archipelago's twin islands despite being home to the clove plantations that provide the mainstay of Zanzibar's economy.

He also becomes active at election time: a habit that is testing nerves ahead of polls due in October.

His last major visitation was during elections in 1995, when Juma says he endured his terrifying ordeal, although some reported his presence again in 2000 and in 2001.

But Juma says Popo Bawa is apolitical even though electoral emotions seem to summon him from the beyond. "He can strike even if the opposition wins the elections," he said.

"Many were afraid and were sleeping outside. But I was confident and was alone in my room. I was reading the Koran for protection. After about 20 minutes I started feeling sleepy. I heard something falling on the roof. I continued reciting. I started feeling something in the room.

"I felt my mouth becoming bigger and bigger. I started losing my ability to form words. My feeling was that my lower lip had stretched to my lap. I felt weak in my body. I became very sweaty. My experience was like that of a neighbour of mine who said his head seemed to grow to an enormous size."

Popo Bawa gets annoyed if villagers deny his existence -- a fact to which Khamis Juma Hamad says he can testify.

Hamad, a retired village chief now aged 75, said that in 1971 Popo Bawa spoke to terrified villagers on Pemba through a girl possessed by the monster.

"I am Popo Bawa," said the girl, called Fatuma, speaking in the unnaturally deep voice of a man.

"You have challenged my existence so I have come to prove I am here."

Seconds later, he says, the villagers heard the sound of a car revving and a rustle on a nearby roof -- signs of Popo Bawa. "The people felt cold, almost paralysed. They were terrified."

Wife Sues Husband over His Weak Sexual Organ

ROME (Reuters) - An impotent Italian man who kept his problem a secret from his wife until after their wedding must pay her damages for 'eroding' her right to have a family, Italy's Supreme Court has ruled.

The woman, identified by the Italian media as Cristina S., was quick to get her marriage annulled in the 1990s after learning to her horror that her husband could not consummate it.

She then demanded damages, saying she had been robbed of her "right to sexuality" and the promise of a family. Despite losing legal battles in lower courts, she kept appealing, and finally the Supreme Court found in her favor.

"Her fundamental right (was) eroded to fully realize a family, as a woman and a wife, and eventually as a mother," according to excerpts from the court ruling published in Italian newspapers Thursday.

An Alcoholic Joke by a German leader

BERLIN (Reuters) - The deputy leader of the German state of Bremen resigned after pouring sparkling wine over the head of a homeless man in an apparent joke that went wrong.

Peter Gloystein of the center-right Christian Democrats was caught on camera pouring a magnum of the wine over the head of stunned Bremen local Udo Oelschlaeger at the launch of German wine week Wednesday evening.

Oelschlaeger was standing next to the podium at the public, open-air event from where Gloystein poured the wine.

Gloystein, Bremen state economy and culture senator, said late Thursday he deeply regretted the incident and apologized to his victim. He said he had "misinterpreted" the situation but did not explain what he meant.

"I had a long and intensive talk with Mr Oelschlaeger the same evening. He explained his difficult life. We departed on friendly terms ... If possible, I would like to help out Mr Oelschlaeger," Gloystein said in a statement.

A Bremen culture ministry spokesman confirmed Gloystein had resigned from his various posts.

Girls

Aren't these angelic creatures cute and sexy?

Don't their beautiful, perfect, undulating figures and soft, delicate, Oriental features quicken your respiration and heartbeat?

If so, you are a degenerate, perverted individual.













They're all transexuals.

STDs among Penguins....... At SAN FRANCISCO Zoo

During one night last year, zookeepers celebrated in the classical San Francisco tradition.

At the end of it, they felt amorous. Unfortunately, holding orgies with trannies, homosexuals, and dogs had already lost its novelty and appeal in San Francisco.

What to do?

Several pounds of marijuana later, they decided on a plan:

SAN FRANCISCO (Reuters) - A mysterious outbreak of chlamydia, a bacterial infection which humans pass to each other through sex, has killed a dozen penguins at the San Francisco Zoo, a zoo spokeswoman said on Friday.

The illness turned the zoo's Magellanic penguin colony into a disease hot spot, sparking fatal respiratory distress and kidney failure that struck down 12 of the birds.

The outbreak was the second Penguin Island mystery to stump zoo officials in recent years.

Hostage Exchanged for Pizzas

SYDNEY, Australia - Officials bought 15 pizzas to secure the release of a guard who had been held for 42 hours by inmates at an Australian top-security prison, police said Monday.

Twenty prisoners were involved in the standoff, which began Saturday when inmates occupied part of Risdon Prison on the southern island state of Tasmania, complaining about conditions in the aging institution and taking guard Ken Hannah hostage.

Hannah finally was released late Sunday night after authorities caved in to demands for pizza.

"The final sticking point with the inmates was that they were requiring pizzas to be delivered," said senior prisons official Graeme Barber.

"We had held off in relation to that — we obviously wanted the release of our staff member," he added. "Our staff member was negotiated out by the delivery of 15 pizzas."

The last prisoner involved in the siege gave himself up Monday. No one was injured.

The article states that the police "held off in relation to that (delivering the pizza)". Fifteen pizzas were a difficult concession to make in exchange for a life.

For the police force, one can conclude that pizzas are the Australian equivalent of donuts.

Kangaroo freaks.

Legendary Italian Mafia Chiefs Extort Three Doctors.... For Viagra and Cialis prescriptions.

I knew that the Italian Mafia was in a state of decadence, but I didn't expect this level of impotence;

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20050506/od_nm/crime_viagra_dc

NEW YORK (Reuters) - Three New York doctors were charged on Thursday with giving large amounts of Viagra and other anti-impotence drugs to mob members in return for construction and auto repair work done by mafia-controlled businesses.

Arlen Fleisher, Stephen Klass and George Shapiro, all doctors in Westchester County, a suburban area north of New York City, were accused of trading prescription drugs and drug samples with members and associates of the Gambino crime family. The one-count complaint was filed in Manhattan federal court.

In addition to Viagra, the doctors are accused of giving out Cialis, Levitra and other prescription drugs. According to court papers, Gambino members used the drugs and also gave them to others.

In one instance, a high-ranking member of the Gambino crime family asked Klass to get him the cholesterol-lowering drug Lipitor for his barber, court papers said.


Robert Wolf, one of the lawyers representing Fleisher, said it is an accepted practice among doctors to give patients samples.

"This is a message to the medical profession. Don't treat Italians," he told reporters. "This is rampant and accepted in the medical profession, unless your patient is Italian."