Miles Coverdale (manos74) wrote,
Miles Coverdale

Theoretical Fellatio (another d-land repost)

(From 3 March 2002)



  • Winters In Nebraska. Freeway-speed winds and subzero temperatures that freeze solid whatever comes into contact with the outside. Drop and gobble, Boreas!

  • People Who Talk On Cell Phones While They're At The Counter, Presumably To Petition For My Help With Their Book Searches And/Or Purchases. Forget "Hang up and drive;" how about "Hang up and pay attention to the people you presumably set out to have contact with?" Seriously, unless you have family members who are being taken away to the hospital because huge mutant candiru fish with laser beams on their foreheads have jumped snarling at their jugulars, put the cell phone away and pay attention to the business at hand. Oh, and fellate me while you're at it.

  • People Who Confuse Mawkish Sentimentality For Sincere Emotions. If you cannot tell the difference between spending time interacting with a small child in a beneficial way and giving all your friends badly-written and badly-rhymed syrupy poetry about the mythic big-R Romantic innocence of childhood, you are hereby called upon to blow me. And that goes double for you, Jack Canfield and all your slew of Chicken Soup For The Publisher's Bank Account merchandise.

  • Libertarians. The free market isn't all that great, big government isn't all that bad, and Ayn Rand is the most godawfully overrated writer to come down the pike in a long time. Now put down your copy of Guns and Ammo and play your solo on my flesh clarinet.

  • People Who Don't Like Carl Sagan. I don't care if you're a right-winger who doesn't like him because he wrote about the "Satanic heresies" of the Big Bang and evolution or because he "deliberately" falsified his projections of how bad the effects of nuclear war would have been, or if you're a left-winger who doesn't like him because he represents Western linear logic, rationality, and the scientific method that's "destroying the world." Wang, people. People, my wang. Get acquainted.

  • People Who Deify "Common Sense." Self-righteously taking the stance of "Oh, I'm just plain folks; not like those big-city elites" is just another form of being a pretentious twit. Remember: "Common sense" is just the nice way of saying "status quo." Now make like when the gardener met the keyboardist and plant your tulips on my organ.

  • Helen Burns. Jesus fucking Christ with biscuits and gravy. Can this girl not grow a fucking spine?!? "Oh, I know I was beaten and abused by the cruel teachers at this horrid boarding school, but I probably did something to deserve it anyway, and they're so nice to correct me because it just shows they love me, and it doesn't matter anyway because we're all going to go live with Jesus." I'd tell you to suck my wang, but you're dead. And fictional.

  • B.R. Myers. (I might have the spelling of his name wrong--it might be "Meyers"--but fuck him.) Motherfucker, but motherfuckers who think there's such a thing as "intrinsic worth of a novel" really fucking piss me off. Who the fuck died and made you the fucking judge of what made a fucking book good or bad, anyhow? Not only are you gonna suck my wang, but I'll make sure you suck all their wangs as well.

  • William J. Bennett. Surprisingly more winners than you might think use drugs, Billyboy. And aside from that, see the comments for B.R. Myers. Oh, and the wang thing too.

  • John T. Malloy. There is no moral difference between saying "I'm not going to hire that guy because he wore tennis shoes to the interview" and saying "I'm not going to hire that guy because he's black." And if you disagree with that, you can line up behind him and take a number for the wang-suckage.

  • Tom Wolfe. In particular, for his story "Ambush at Fort Bragg." Let me see if I've got this right: Taking a bullet for Uncle Sam gives you the right to beat a gay man to death because the fact he's gay means he'll break and run in combat; after all, being in combat makes you a superior human being who can tell who's a real man and who isn't. Is that about the size of it? I thought so. Now do your Linda Lovelace impression, asshole.

  • Caffeine, And Lack Thereof. Motherfucker, but I hate being caffeine's bitch. And caffeine knows it, too. Eat me, caffeine!

  • People Who Were Offended By This List. Self-explanatory, really.

...well? What're you waiting for? My wang ain't suckin' itself!
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