yeah.

too much work, too many deadlines, too much stress, not enough sleep, and winter.

=head hurts, eyes hurt, throat hurts, falling over, no concentration.

bleargh

Pooter needs a name.  if anybody still reads this crappy blog, any suggestions?

…OK, any SERIOUS suggestions?

We call it Pooter

After the zompocalypse, watching old white guys pontificate about women’s rights will not be an issue.

This is the angriest Canadian EVER:

Now all y’all just go away, I got shit to do.  So little alcohol, so much time.  Wait.  Strike that.  Reverse it.

Oh Mary wasn’t happy with the life that she led
She was a simple girl without much to say
So one day she just upped and left her dreary home
And she left all her friends behind to wander all alone
And at first she was afraid, she was so far away
From her home but slowly she got to like it anyway
Oh Mary won’t you please come…

Well in time she found that
The mountain that she had been taught
Her whole life, that she must avoid
And though at first it hurt, and no one could comfort her
She finally came to appreciate it
And she liked it, she liked it – oh wasn’t she surprised
And though still alone, she grew so much inside
Oh Mary won’t you please come…

And after a time, she became so sublime
She could look in peoples eyes and read their minds
Though her hands would sometimes bleed and occasionally
She would long for her past and the memories they bring
She decided to return to her old home town
And her heart was burning with all the things she found
Oh Mary won’t you please come…

So, Mary came back and at first no one recognized her face
And her friends were all a little bit afraid
When they heard what she had to say
They all slowly backed away
And her family took her aside and put their arms around her
They said Mary won’t you please come back to us now
There is still time to repent for all your sins
And Mary started to cry when she realized
That she’d never come home again in her life

Oh Mary won’t you please come
Mary won’t you please come home…

Energy efficient lightbulbs are being sold by FIRST Robotics teams to support the program and encourage kids to look at STEM careers.

Good lamps, those.

Look up your local FIRST team on the website, and contact them to buy a few.

Cuz it makes Steve King cry.

(If you can’t be arsed to find your local FIRST team, drop me a line.  I can hook you up.)

While I am busily working on buildings, robots, and a nervous breakdown, Catholic Whiny-ass Clergy and all-around fuckwads are setting themselves up as moral arbiters for the Dirty Sluts having the Sex.

And all the while, in the sleepy little cowtown, 8000 instances of abuse have gone unreported.

EIGHT FUCKING THOUSAND.

Over 60 years.  Over 100 offenders.

What egregiously repugnant asswipes.

Obviously, I am not quite speechless.  But I am sickened at the hypocrisy and the naked power-hungry greed that enables the Catholic power structure to attempt to control the private lives of non-believers while covering up for monsters who have damaged and destroyed children.

The Roman Catholic Church:  A criminal enterprise that puts La Cosa Nostra to shame.  In fact, the Mob has a more developed ethical grounding; thugs who have broken the kneecaps of gambling addicts are put off by this.

Seriously, even NAMBLA is saying “What the fuck, guys?”

You know, if they want to shove their arrogant, egotistical, warped and sex-obsessed stupid ugly hats into every political discussion in this country, and try to disrupt the political process to benefit their conservative friends, then they can pay taxes.  Local taxes in their communities too. ESPECIALLY in local communities; to help to rebuild the lives they have destroyed BY FUCKING CHILDREN.

Bankruptcy is too fucking good for them.  No tax exemption for child rapists and their enablers.

My wife was raised in the Catholic Church, and we were married there for familial obligations; basically it meant a great deal to her mother, and meant very little to my family.  And while we did that, these heinous criminals were busy diddling children down in Milwaukee.  If my wife hadn’t developed strong feelings against the Church in her youth (“Why should I give a fuck for an organization that considers me a second class person?”) I would be pushing her quite strenuously to leave the festering, corrupt Rapists’ Club.   I feel a strong urge to have our marriage nullified, so we can re-do it non-religiously.

Fuck off and die, you overdressed moralist scolds who view your own parishioners as marks to be fleeced and victims to be abused. Fuck you, you bureaucratic monsters hiding behind a shield of piety. The fact that you all don’t die in horrible racking pain of a disease that makes your genitals rot and your brain leak out of your eyes is a strong argument against the existence of a merciful God. Chthulhu gags at your awful inhumanity.  If there is an afterlife, Justice and Amusing Irony will sentence you all to the Torquemada Ring of Hell.

He just seems so HAPPY, to me.

GREAT.  JUST FUCKING GREAT.  ANOTHER FUCKING DAY GOING STRAIGHT TO SHIT.

FUCK MY LIFE.