Be Happy? My Ass!

The sign says the opposite of what I'm thinking.

What is there to be happy about?

Here are some things that make me pissed right now.

1. Space AIDS—Yeah. That's right, AIDS isn't just coming from junkies and anal sex between gay men and well, I mean, those are the only places it comes from right? I mean heterosexuals spreading normal AIDS? Bullshit!

But back to the Space AIDS.

Aliens are now coming down to earth and injecting us all with this super genetic altering disease. Common symptoms are pants shitting, facial donuts, sleeping and cast iron skillet finger—it's horrible, your finger gets all rusty and cornbread sticks to it.

2. Summer Music Festivals—Oh. Fuck. Here come the hippies. Got dang jam bands are coming into town to steal your beach balls, smoke your ground weeds and rape your grandma. Looks like it's time to put the chastity belt back on Nana.

3. Shirt stink—I've had a shirt for 16 years. I feel as though this shirt should not immediately omit a rank odor every time I sweat at the gym. Fuck this shirt. And fuck you Nike for making a shirt that can last 20 years without smelling like a 13 year old boy's jizz sock collection.

4. The Hostess Collapse—How the fuck are our kids gonna get fat now? No Twinkies. No Ho-ho's. No Ding-Dongs.

Do they really think that somebody is going to eat Little Debbie's? That shit ain't legit. Fuck. This country has one thing left to hang our hat on—FAT PEOPLE.

We excel at big fat, fatties, lardos and adults with jowls. Without Hostess, we are removing a key piece of the puzzle to our dominance.

Get your shit together Hostess and the people trying to buy this shitting, defunct abortion.

5. Mexicans. You know who you are.

6. That fuck that wears scrubs to the gym—Oh look at me, I'm a male nurse. I have a shitty ass thin beard and I workout. Fuck you. I workout too and I don't buy my clothes at Wal-green's. I also don't bring my coughed on, spit on, anal leakage stained scrubs to the gym.

7. Good beer—Where do you get off brewers? Fucking making things that make me wanna drink them? I remember when the best beer available to us was Killian's. And that shit is rank. Tastes like an old sock soaked in a gravel piss pit. IPAs? More like FUCKPAs.

8. Old people—Today I flew 11 hours. From Louisville, Kentucky to Pasco, Washington. On each  plane I experienced multiple things that pissed me off about old people. First, you're slow. Two, you have weird odors. One guy smelled like he had been snacking in the liter box—cat turd breath to the max. Three, I think you all have some kind of weird secret society where you plot ways to piss off people younger than you. Like taking forever to order at Panda Express, wearing khakis that haven't been washed since the 1986 Mets vs. Red Sox World Series and just "pancaking"—this is what I now call it when old people fall and break their hips.

9. Ash Trays—Where have they all gone? I don't smoke.

10. Ronald Reagan—Just go die already. What are you 104?

Be happy. Suck my balls happiness. You're what's wrong with this world.

You might be a Kentuckian...

The level of the graffiti I find varies. I often question why somebody would write certain things. More often though, I applaud the unknown person for their doodle or witticism.

But this is just awful.

I live in Kentucky and unfortunately we are never going to escape the whole Jim Bob thing. No matter how hard I try, I am reminded daily that I live in Kentucky by some type of antic that can only happen here.

For example, here are three things that happened in the last couple of days that prove I live in Kentucky—America's Short Bus:

1. Cancer, is it in you?
Needed some cereal this morning. Instead of going out of my way and hitting a grocery store, I swung into a Walgreen's. Grabbed my breakfast and a bag of snack mix for lunch—with 60% less fat than potato chips, how could I fucking not! Stood in line behind a girl who bought two jugs of Gatorade and a pack of cigs.

I was not disturbed by her purchase combination. She was obviously trying to recover from a Wednesday night, tequila induced vomit frenzy. The kind where her vagina was used as a reverse human piñata for every frat guy in a five block radius. What was disturbing was the total of the sale—$5.27.

Really?

Are you fucking kidding? I can get cigarettes and two Gatorades for under $6! I'm gonna starting smoking and gonna get me one of those vaginas. (gonna)

2. Bocephus
Not more than a mile from me is a billboard for Hank Williams Jr. He's playing the Kentucky State Fair.

I have thought about going. Not for the music so much as the pageantry.

Bocephus at the Kentucky State Fair has to be the equivalent of World War II Victory Day for the slapnuts of this state.

Rednecks are gonna be out wearing their finest overalls, chewing the finest chewing tobacco and drinking Mountain Dew out of goblets.

I would have to think White Rain or Aquanet must be underwriting this whole event.

3. "Beards and Queers"
(I mean no disrespect to my homosexual/gay friends. I used this title only for the slight rhyming scheme. Please free to taunt me with chants of "Breeder, breeder, breeder!", if you like.)

During a Dirty Projectors show this week, my friend and I realized that Louisville has a love affair for two types of men—the bearded type and the dances and sleeps with other men type. Many of the latter also had beards, which created some type of superfecta.

No other state in the south would allow these two groups of people to mix. There would be fights, tears and glitter showered in the eyes of the innocent.

(again, no offense.)

And now—weak ending.

Is there a better sentiment?

One of the fun things about Shit Talking is the examination of the English language—and not just the misspellings.

The words expressed at the point the pen hits the wall is amazing to me.

To me, I can use this statement in 3 ways.
1. In a joking manner.
2. As a serious, get the fuck out of my way, I'm pissed at you.
3. As a defensive maneuver.

In this context—inside a Germantown bar in Louisville, Kentucky—I wonder if this sentiment was expressed as:
1. A joke/response to all the graffiti in the bathroom?
2. Was the author of this pissed his piece was covered up?
3. Was the author pissed because he found a pube in his beer?

Whichever it is, I love it.

Happy Thursday and Fuck All Y'all Muther Fuckers