Careful With That Axe, Eugene

For Fenris, my favourite Pink Floyd song:

Inside Mitchieville - May 18, 2008

Wondering what the latest super hero is wearing? Our urban superhero here in Mitchieville wears a disguise. This man of mystery with superhuman powers (but nice, not Nietsche) stands six foot tall and favors shoes with square toes. He is shown here in an artists sketch knee capping a litter bug.







This was my submission for artwork on the five story building over looking Dundas Square in Toronto. Of course, because of racism it was turned down. All those teeth speak to me of multi-culturalism. The dragon's tongue is the social consciousness of the NDP. The yawning maw symbolizes the unity of Canadian diversity. A social worker is shown throwing a baby into the drool slippery gullet as a symbol of inclusion.




Our newest hire at Mitchieville High is Madamme de Flamme. The Mitchieville Board of Education Collective Agreement pays out $105,750 to the employee whenever an employee becomes pregnant. Madamme de Flamme is filling in for Ms de Stael, who is off on pregnancy leave. Some parents expressed concerns about Madamme de Flamme's choice of wardrobe. But we sicked the Rights Commissar on them, and had them sentenced to volunteer cleaning work for the TTC.




Madamme de Sade's Mathematics class continues to impress artsie teaching superintendent math illiterates with these 'reaching out with art teaching approach' to creating the illusion of math competency. It is amazing how inclusive and accepting the males are in her class: here, for example, is a young man's vision of a future utopia which includes women in positions of power, where gender differences are not negativized because all women have D or double D breasts and scamper about in latex catsuits accessorized with corsets and weapons.





Sonjia de Sade returns to a position of power at the Helping Hands suicide distress center here in Mitchieville, a project run from the Mitchieville phone center which is really hidden outside of Mitchieville for National Defence purposes.




Tired after a long day of making other people eat the wrapper before the chocolate bar, like Leslie here? Interested in surveillance photos of your friends or family, maybe even the obnoxious in-laws, the noisy neighbours, or the inefficient co-worker? How about their banking records, sordid medical history, or video tape of their most intimate moments? You too can share in the privilege of having secret police powers. When the telemarketer calls with this exciting offer, have your credit card ready! You may even win a night out in Toronto, with whores, whiskey, and fattening food!



I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this.

Mother's Day, 2008

I had the opportunity to travel outside of Toronto this May 24 weekend. I rarely leave Toronto. Toronto is such a perfect place … crime free, and a vast village of village people who all love and respect each other. The only problems in Toronto are caused by people who do not live here … either they are Albertans giving automatic weapons to peaceful gangbangers, or taxpayers resentful of paying taxes to support tax spenders.

I was filled with fear as my car was driven beyond the limits of Toronto, the world’s greatest city. Social programs are few and far between. Community centers are not within walking distance. There are no before and after school programs to address urban crime caused by the lingering effects of African colonialism. Everybody seems to have a job, so everybody is too tired to volunteer to work for some six figure activist at a foodbank, or volunteer to teach social skills to high school students to stem the epidemic of biting, scratching, and spitting, that legions of school teachers, school administrators, and education egg-heads could not figure out how to solve for all their six figure salaries, or to hold down a telemarketing shift to raise money for Global Warming awareness, especially after this last short winter which barely left a dusting of snow.

In Toronto, shortage of services means crime. I expected to see the same things here in the suburbs where the greedy taxpayers live.

But, all I saw were people going about their non-violent business. No homeless people were hanging around asking for extra money. No skinny baby mommas were strutting about in their fashionable hooker gear; no fat baby mommas were walking to the free clinic for methadone, stitches, or shampoo for lice. There were no posters advertising easy access to welfare programs, easy immigration, or easy work doing telemarketing.

In the parking lots of the malls, I saw people leave their cars unlocked. In the subdivisions, I watched a neighbour come home from work and just walk into his house: the front door had been left unlocked.

The families I saw had two parents: one male, and one female. They seemed to like each other. Did not these women know that all men are rapists, especially white heteronormatives with jobs creating wealth? The children were clean and well behaved. I saw no mixed race couples, no same gender couples, and no polygamist groups. Unlike the Toronto fashion, nobody uses dog leashes to restrain their younger children or mail order brides.

I went into a book store … it was filled with books. They seemed to be aiming to sell books to customers, rather than propagandize the politically correct view, or assist in the redistribution of their wealth at the hands of activists. Missing was the safe sex brochures, the applications for social assistance, and the please do not bite the bus driver pamphlets. These merchants do not have a social conscious; all they care about is creating wealth from their invested capital and labour.

Safe, productive, and happy.

Quite the paradox. Where is the crime caused by lack of social programs? Why is there no racism? Where is the urine sloshing around the floor of the bus? When will the next lynching occur? Who is going to speak up for all the non-existent victims? What is the best minority that a tax spender can be to collect the most handouts?

Thank any god but God, I made it back to Toronto. Now, safe behind locked doors, barred windows, and home defence personelle, I can breathe the free air of a city that is the perfect model of socialism, or would be if more taxes were charged, and more activists were hired.

I can only hope that the perfection that is socialist Toronto can spread to the dirty peasants who live in oppression. When that happens, we can truly rename Mothers Day to be Respec’ yo’ Baby Mom’ma Day.

I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this at both Mitchieville and DustMyBroom

Saturday Morning Female Flesh

Tears filled my eyes as I read the comments at Lisa's 'Friday Night Male Flesh' post this morning. Comments like "Where is Reg?", "Has Reg fallen asleep?" stung like needle prick on my delicate skin. The guilt would have be unbearable if not for the fact that yesterday was my birthday and apparently the management of Mitchieville was too busy to send a greeting my way. I loyally slog away at this award winning blog but as soon as I take one night off the taunts and Stalinesque denunciations begin. I assure you all that I was out last night doing what every red-blooded heteronormative Vimy Ridge-Canadian should be doing on a Friday night that also happens to be their birthday day and that is all I have to say about that.

Though I have been victimized by The Mayor and his attack dog Dmorris, for the readers of Mitchieville I have posted some Female Flesh this morning. I stole these pics of Athena from a link at Steamboat McGoo's place. The blue on white and her name would imply that she is Greek and you know what they say about Greek girls, right! Okay, I have no idea what they say about Greek girls and you were right to call me on that. I just can't do anything right for you people can I?

Logan and I have a special post written for this weekend, Canada's first long weekend of the summer, and will get arond to posting it tomorrow sometime. My mommy is making a big supper for me tonight and The Belleville Bulls are playing in The Memorial Cup in Kitchener this weekend. I hope the cruel taunts of The Mayor and Dmorris won't ruin the day for me today...

GO BULLS GO!

Friday Night Man Flesh

Ladies do love a man who can cook, especially if he also happens to be a steamy piece of man meat. Mitchieville boasts many hot chefs that are too often hidden from public view. Their food we may try, but what of the visuals? Tonight, some of the choicest step out of the kitchen for your gratification.

When I'm not hanging out in my own kitchen, I tend to frequent Green is the Colour of American Money bistro on Main. The head chef, pictured above, doesn't charge me for my meal.

Here we have Chef, who is the head caterer at Mitchieville City Hall. This is only a sneak preview. For security reasons, Chef is only shown in his usual disguise. Your imagination is required.

Chive, on the other hand, has no worries that he is aware of. An outspoken community advocate for big box stores, strip clubs, and plastic bags, Chive is only too happy to show off his wares.

Before those visitors interested in ideas rather than flesh rush off to file a human rights complaint, stop, and consider the following statement. Discuss until your prune mush is digested and excreted.

If only it was as easy to banish hunger by rubbing the belly as it is to masturbate.

Diogenes the Cynic

I, Lisa, founding member of *BITCH*, wrote this after consulting with Sargon.

300 Carbon Credits To Fortune & Fame

We had a terrific response to last week's trivia, I couldn't be happier. We had quite a few people participate last week, and now those people are on their way to 300 carbon credits and the chance to win some fabulous prizes. Give the people something sparkly, Fenris, that's how we got Manhattan!

The answers for last week's trivia were--

1) Air force
2) Net
3) Sinatra
4) M & K
5) Oil

After some calculations, a bevy of addition, a few conference calls with Fenris and a meeting with UN officials, we have the first tally in regarding the leader board. It is as follows:

Todd 50 carbon credits
Chris Taylor 40 carbon credits
Rhebner 40 carbon credits
Linds (who is very pregnant, so no sudden noises) 30 carbon credits
Nancy 30 carbon credits
Reg 30 carbon credits
Polska 30 carbon credits
Frozen Tex 20 carbon credits
Darren 10 carbon credits
Cudgel .025 carbon credits
Anon 50 carbon credits (but all for nothing, I suppose)

If anyone has found a mistake in my calculations, please let me know and I will correct it immediately.

For those of you looking up Todd's rear, he may be leading now, but there are plenty of chances to catch his rear. Like What's in The Mayor's Lunch? that's a great opportunity to catch Todd's rear. Or Trivia Tuesday, that's another chance to catch and beat Todd's rear.

Today I have a series of riddles for you, each correct answer is worth 15 carbon credits. Good luck to you:

1) Throw it off the highest building, and I'll not break. But put me in the ocean, and I will. What am I?

2) I'm the part of the bird that's not in the sky. I can swim in the ocean and yet remain dry. What am I?

3) What kind of coat can only be put on when wet?

I never knew this before I typed out those questions, but over all, riddles are pretty gay.

I encourage those who haven't played before to start today. I encourage those that have played before to play agin. I encourage those that are unemployed to buck up and get off welfare and give us taxpayers a break. you know who you are, drug addict.

Onward, Happy Workers! (05/16/08)

Friday is a special day for you, happy worker.

After these many weeks of Two Bran Muffin mornings, your fellow happy workers are filled with happiness, and a sense of purpose drives their primate maze exploration behaviour. Watch them smile as they step from task to task, filled with concentration, and an impending sense of relief and tranquility.

Many of you will receive Friday-only privilege tokens in your weekend food bag. If you are picking up and taking a weekend food bag for a sick friend or family member, you can help yourself to their Friday-only privilege tokens, and, of course, their chocolate and tobacco rations for the week. This is the Darwin-positive thing to do. It is Nature’s Way.

If you receive a blue privilege token with a canary yellow stripe, you may get drunk tonight on Victory Beer, stuff your paunch with Victory Pizza, and have your precious bodily fluids exchanged with a scented whore. Guzzle your two large pitchers of Unser Sauerstoff Beer, push greasy, trailing gobs of cheese into your unhinged jaws, and use your index finger like a cannon ramrod to slide a knuckle of bone down your slippery throat. While you gorge and grunt, slopping and scattering food stuffs, your personal love slave is performing fellatio upon you. That is what you get with this type of privilege token.

If you receive a blue privilege token with a mustard yellow strip, you may have an extra packet of Sweetener and a hundred calories of prunes.

If you receive a blue privilege token with a lemon yellow stripe, you may enjoy a delicious ethnic meal of shredded coconut topped with fermenting salmon and carrot coins, as served at your designated chow hall. Yummy.

Such is your day, today, Happy Worker.

A Victims Perspective

I am a victim of a racist, sexist, heteronormative society. My assumed name is Rag

My family have lived happily off the rents collected from tenants from properties bought by my hard working mother, who committed the time and spent Mike Harris’s money to get herself a degree in social work, while directing the raising of her five children by three fathers. Despite all the obstacles, Mom got a job as a social worker. We were very proud, until Mike Harris began to cut social programs. Mom had a drug overdose at work, and was forced to accept a settlement and then go on disability pension tied to the cost of living, along with bonuses for low carbon credit consumption.

After Mom became sick, it was almost impossible to manage the tenants. They bashed holes in the walls, urinated on the carpets, and smeared animal feces on the walls. We could not figure out the right blend of pills to give the primates. What had Mom been up to?

Then I got smart and enrolled in Racism Industry Studies at the Fenris Badwulf School of Telemarketing Excellence. I heard about the fine people at the Fenris Badwulf School of Telemarketing Excellence from a friend. My friend had driven his employer into bankruptcy and ruin, and got a great pension out of the deal, thanks to Fenris and his methods.

At the Fenris Badwulf School of Telemarketing Excellence, I learnt that there is a hierarchy amongst tax spenders, just like in the eco-systems of the great rivers of the Egyptian delta. My access to my tax spender entitlement was being threatened by the behaviour of other tax spenders. Among activists, the personal me comes first. Otherwise, everyone else (the other me) gets to struggle under taxation, regulation, litigation, or incompetent services.

Those delinquent tenants, whose sub-human culture was eroding the level of care I could give to myself, forcing me into contemplation of a two tier system (one level for me, one level for others, and a third level, a paying for services level, for others). So, I weeded out the worst examples. Thanks to the elective courses I took at the Fenris Badwulf School of Telemarketing Excellence, I learnt how to plan, estimate, and contract out the work to build the underground lime vat I need to have so that I could express my culture with my own voice. In my culture, we dissolve obnoxious people in quick lime.

Thanks to the ‘no questions asked’ culture of the activist employees of the social agencies, I was able to continue to collect various welfare payments and food handouts of the dissolved primates. As we speak, the roses are entwining their roots into the rich fertilizer which I made from their bones. As we speak, I am cashing the welfare cheques for three who are now one with the roses.

Thank you, Fenris Badwulf! Thank you, collectivists who keep the taxpayers paying for the spending of tax spenders like me! Thank you, lesser tax spenders, lower down on the feeding chain.

You can Act Locally, Think Globally, and Demand Handouts, too!

I, Fenris Badwulf, proudly introduces Rag, a recent graduate of the Racism Industry Studies program. You can see him at your gardening center.

The Mayor's Linkie Love

If you're wondering why I have posted a picture of bbq, the answer is simple: We are going to have a BBQ Carnival. Quiet down, let me explain. You're very rambunctious today.

I was over at OMMAG's site, trying to hack his password so I could draw funny faces on some of the pictures he has posted, when I chanced upon his post about BBQ. The rack 'o pork looked so delicious, the potatoes looked so delectable, the vegetables looked so....errr....ahh...vegetable-ish. And it came to me out of the blue, I am going to have a BBQ Carnival and rock the free world.

Here's what I have in mind: The Carnival will take place June 5. I will take submissions up until June 4. The name of the carnival will be The BBQ Warrior Carnival.

Seeing as though everyone has a bbq, everyone has a bbq recipe, and everyone loves a bbq more than they love their children, this carnival is a no-brainer. Simply send me two pictures, a before and an after of your favourite slab of whatever you like to grill. Also send in your recipe on how you have perfected said dish. You don't even have to be a blogger to participate, you can be a regular shmuck like that guy over there, or even that other guy, possibly even that creepy guy with the pocket protector. Hell, everyone is invited to participate.

I'll post the pictures, the recipes, give out some great links and we will all learn a little about life and a lot about love. Man, country music has infiltrated my soul.

Anyway, that's the idea, let's do it....together. First though, let's have a little Linkie Love.

This YouTube clip is entitled, The Amazing Milk Trick. The only thing that is true about that title is that milk was involved. All the other words are nothing more than false advertising. Yet, it's still worth a watch. Hey, screw you, descriptive sentences!

Up to 83% of us know how old we are, yet less than 31% know how many days old we are. This has to stop.

Discovering Antarctica will answer any and all questions you may have about that giant frozen tundra. Funnily enough, I have no questions at all about Antarctica because I couldn't care less about it one iota. Eff you, polar bear assholes!

I really enjoyed Crazy Japanese Horror Film Posters. Mostly because it was crazy, was Japanese, there were posters, and it was about posters. and something about film.

Before I took the Spot the Fake Smile Test, I thought I would be good at figuring out who was smiling for real and who was faking. After I scored 18/20, I realized that I am pretty much a God among men and that one day my chiseled portrait might be on Mount Rushmore, right next to the Colonel Saunders and Barry Sanders. (Take the quiz, it's fun)

If you're not into cheese-racing, you are missing one of the greatest up and coming sports ever invented.

Although the girl in this set of pictures is attractive and photogenic, she never shuts her flippin' mouth. Having said that, what a funny page of pictures.

Even though purposely scaring a baby is close to abuse, it doesn't mean it can't be funny. Wait, what?

From website--Infected is a game designed for 2-10 people. To play: simply draw a card and use your body to communicate your new affliction to the other players, if someone guesses the illness in a timely manner, the amount of points indicated on the card are awarded to both the infected person and the player who diagnoses them. This link is dedicated to k and dmorris.

Most of you probably think that pictures of an abandoned laboratory that studied a human brain would be rather sick. You're only half right.

And another Linkie Love goes into the annals of history.

Three things: Why isn't OMMAG in Mitchieville's Cabinet? I demand an explanation from my IT team. 2) Carnival of the BBQ Warrior is on! 3) Fenris, I'll swing by between 1-2 tomorrow, see you then.

Activist versus Activist (05/15/08)

Journalist-activist versus journalist-activist:

Tears poured down my face when I read this article in the Toronto Star. The number of asylum seekers from the United States is rising fast. Hurrah! The evil empire of the United States is collapsing! *

The sad note is the large numbers of these victimized people turned down for refugee status by our insensitive and cruel bureaucracy. If you look at the handy-dandy chart given by the Star, you will note (try not to cry), that of the 7,047 Mexicans who applied for refugee status, only ten percent were granted. That is ninety percent that are forced back to certain death at the hands of gun-toting gun-registry-resisting Mexican brutes (motivated by poverty, global warming, and outrage over a lack of respect for the right of the trans-gendered to access public transit). Fifty percent of the 3,713 Haitians are going to be sent back to Haiti, where they face certain death at the hands of Anti-Abortionists, Creationists, and second hand smokers.

But, I felt suddenly better when one of my loyal and productive staff pointed out another article in the Star * .

I wiped the tears from my eyes and took up my morning cup of prune elixir. I was worried about all those people being sent to their death by the racists in the immigration department. But, such is not the case. According to the other article in the Star, not very many of those unfortunate victims who have never committed a crime other than being poor are actually getting sent back. Of the 41,000 illegals floating out there, the fascists of Stephen Harper managed to deport 12, 636. Let us say, for the purpose of agreement, that only one in four of those ordered deported, gets deported.

So, those 7,047 Mexicans … ten percent get to stay with handouts, and of the ninety percent left, three quarters stays anyway.

I wish the Toronto Star reporter had mentioned that in his article. It is too bad that the Toronto Star is such a busy place, with many hard working workers, many who owe their job to progressive hiring practices, not ability. The guy who wrote about the vast numbers of people coming from the US, Nicholas Keung, should talk to the guy who wrote about all the non-existence of deportation, Nicholas Keung. I think the article would be more reflective of the reality that progressives want to conjecture if the reality that if you land on these shores you get handouts and never have to leave is painted in the broad strokes that the Star reserves for disrespecting the Canadian Armed forces, the police, Christians, or Vimy-Ridge-Canadian culture. Of the tens of thousands mentioned in the first article, very, very few are actually going to leave Canada. They are going to eat up billions of dollars of wealth in the form of handouts, health care, and education. Which is good … this creates jobs for people who give out handouts, who work in health care, and education enablers. Maybe Nicholas Keung will bump into Nicholas Keung in the lunch room so they can get their story straight, straighter and lefter.


I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this at both Mitchieville and DustMyBroom

George Smitherman Cares

Next time you have to wait for months to see a specialist in Ontario, or hours for care in an emergency ward, or years for a publicly paid family doctor to accept your application, take a deep breath of tolerance and diversity and think of the tormented victims who have to pay for a sex change out of their own pockets. Rest assured that while you are essentially denied the right to jump the queue, you do get *free* care. The trans community does not however currently enjoy this *right*.


Ontario Health Minister George Smitherman is upset by this injustice. Many of these victims of their body parts cannot afford the operation. Activists are quick to remind us that the inability to transform their bodies to fit their mental image results in depression, violence and even suicide. All the more reason for the government to reinstate funding for sex change operations.

Health Minister George Smitherman said Wednesday he has an obligation to consider the health of every resident in the province, and re-enlisting sex change operations is something the Ontario Human Rights Commission has repeatedly called for.

About 10 people a year in Ontario undergo the surgery, which would cost OHIP about $200,000. Smitherman said the figure can easily be covered in the government's $40-billion health care budget.

"It's something that's always been a matter of consideration for me," the minister said of having the government pay for the operation.

"As a representative for the riding of Toronto-Centre, I tend to know more of these (transgendered) folks than most other people would, so my level of awareness, I suppose, informs me perhaps a little more personally."

NDP MPP Cheri DiNovo also says the surgery improves people's lives.

"It's a minority that suffers greatly -- they have a huge high rate of suicide, depression," DiNovo said.

"It's a community that's beset by violence. This is the trans life in our community and we should do everything we can to make their life easier." (CTV)

cp: London Fog and Dust My Broom. We care too!

How China Gets Its Troops To Stand To Attention

There will be no slouching in the Chinese army:

Officers of the People Paramilitary Police preparing for the Olympics are drilled on the parade ground with pins in their collars and crosses on their backs to ensure perfect posture.

The Chinese government have been able to instill pride, self-worth, discipline and dedication in their soldiers through a mix of abuse, barbarity and ruthlessness.

And in the west people complain that Gitmo prisoners don't get fresh towels every day.

Boo hoo for us

NEXT--Activist vs Activist

ALSO--I Stabbed A Mall Walker Just To Watch Him Die

I Stabbed A Mall Walker Just To Watch Him Die --Part Deux

Continued from a few weeks ago...

The couple started out by the Orange Julius and headed west towards the Yarn Barn--and that's where the trouble started.

Before getting to the Yarn Barn, the couple (let's just call them Mildred and Hugh) made a sharp left at the Abercrombie and Fitch and ducked in behind the Orange Julius. At that point I knew something was up, old people don't drink Orange Julius. Hell, no one drinks Orange Julius, that stuff is a cross between liquid shit and pepper spray.

The next thing I know, old people started showing up from out of nowhere. I looked around and found that I was trapped in the Food Court. There are no exit doors at the Food Court, there is only one way out--straight through the horde of old mall walkers.

They came by two's, like the slower animals who boarded Noah's Ark. There were 20, then 30, then 40, then 50. I was slowly, very very very slowly being surrounded. I had to get my head around this, I was well on my way to getting the shit kicked out of me by people who feed themselves through tubes. How embarrassing is that?

I kept backing up, past the Lotto Kiosk, past the Mr. Sub, past the Bourbon Street Grill (if you haven't tried their blackened chicken, you really should, you don't know what you're missing). Finally, I backed up into the counter at the McDonald's express. If I was going to get a shit kicking, this is the hill where I was prepared to die on.

The mall walkers formed a semi-circle around me--pretty much a perfect semi-circle--which considering this was just spur of the moment beating, was very impressive. A lady with a walker approached me first and lifted up her walker a few inches and tried to kneecap me. "fuck off, grandma, you don't know who you're dealing with", I said. That didn't deter her in the least, it seemed to only make her angrier.

She tried again to hit me with her walker, but my cat-like reflexes responded in kind and I fell to the ground and slew-footed her, sending her mangled carcass to the ground.

I was up for a fight now, the blood was cursing or coursing or whatevering through my veins. If these mall walking assholes wanted a fight, then golly gee willikers, they gonna get one, yo!

They came at me from the left and from the right. Surprisingly they didn't come at me from the center. I ducked and dashed, I juked and jived, at one point I'm pretty sure I did the hokie pokied. Ya, that's what it's all about.

However, my strength was draining out of me, yet the mall walkers seemed to be revitalized. They all came towards me, all I could see and smell for miles was blue hair and A535. In a desperate attempt for survival, I reached over the counter and grabbed an apple pie. I tore it in half and shoved it in a mall walkers face. Don't laugh, those apple pies are fucking hot, it says as much on the box it comes in.

A few mall walkers grabbed my arm and twisted it. That was kind of painful, so I yelped. That seemed to startle them, which bought me all of 2 seconds of relief. Finally, when I thought I was going to die, I saw Mildred out of the corner of my eye. She was approaching me with a knitting needle in her hand. I know in my heart that she fully intended to shove it right through my eye socket.

She took a jab at me and missed. I swung around, grabbed the knitting needle from her hand and thrust it into Hugh's ear-hole. Seeing as though Hugh had a hearing aid, that must have hurt like a son of a bitch.

I will never forget Hugh's screams. The mall walkers stopped dead in their tracks. They seem to have been affected by it. Hugh fell to his knees and collapsed. Mildred rushed to his side to help, but it was too late, Hugh was fucked.

As Hugh took a dirt nap, the rest of the mall walkers gathered around him, stood, stared, and cried.

As for me, I took the opportunity to get the hell out of Dodge. I snuck through the crowd and made my way to the escalator. On the way past the crowd, I kicked Mildred in the face. It's not as if bitch didn't deserve it. Scarborough east side--represent!

What did I learn from this? Nothing, I learned absolutely nothing. Which makes me believe that sometimes there is no moral, no lesson and nothing to be learned from near-death experiences.

Fin

Catcalling--Some Women Don't Like It (while some do)

As part of her master's thesis on street harassment (master thesis on street harassment???), Holly Kearl of George Washington University came up with some startling conclusions regarding male catcalling:

As the weather warms each spring, women -- especially in cities with active sidewalk traffic -- once again face catcalls from men. It's a situation some find unnerving and an invasion of their space, while others ignore it or are even flattered by it.

"Being in a public space with a strange man who is being sexually aggressive is potentially dangerous," Hadleigh-West added.

On the other hand, some women appreciate the attention in certain cases.

Amazing. If I'm reading this right, women are either threatened or flattered by male catcalls. Women either seem to hate it, or they seem to like it. Some women seem against it, while others? Not so much.

That's some fascinating information. I think I know the reason why some women prefer not to have men catcall them while other women have no problem with men catcalling them. Let me explain.

I once studied this subject myself. I was working on my double masters thesis on street harassment--a double masters is twice is good as a single masters thesis, therefore, that alone makes me twice as smart as Holly Kearl who only has one shitty masters thesis under her belt. If she wore a belt, which she may or may not wear.

While researching street harassment, I interviewed and conducted an informal survey of 5000 women on the subject. 2499 women said they didn't like male catcalls, while 2501--that would be slightly more women--said they didn't mind it. I also found that amazingly, the 2499 women that hated male catcalling were all unlikeable, short-haired, socially retarded, ugly, stuck-up bitches with no sense of humour, while the 2501 women who didn't mind male catcalls were confident, beautiful women who liked to party.

I ended up getting an A+ on my thesis. The Professor even wrote at the top of my paper, "fuckin' A Right, dude!!!"

BTW--my professor was a chick.

Police Look For Missing Woman

Vancouver police are asking for the publics help in trying to track down a woman who has been missing since Monday. They have a description of what the woman was last seen wearing, perhaps you can help:

Before her disappearance, she was wearing blue spandex pants and a white shirt with "who needs boobs" written on the front and "with an ass like this" on the back.

If you happen to find her, could you please return her to The Institute Of Stupid T-Shirts.

Justine Henin Retires From Tennis (it's a sport apparently)

The top ranked female tennis player in the world, Justine Henin, retired from tennis today at the age of just 25:

She said she felt it was the end of the road and that her body didn't heal as well as when she was younger.

Fair enough.

Here's a little information about what Justine has accomplished in her few short years on planet earth:

Henin captured every major tennis event, with the exception of Wimbledon. She even helped tiny Belgium win its first and only Fed Cup title back in 2001 and was a two-time winner of the prestigious year-end Tour Championships.

"Pound for pound Justine is the greatest player of her generation," said WTA Tour founder and tennis legend Billie Jean King.

I think the most amazing thing about all this, the thing that is so incredible, so astonishing, is the fact that I have never heard of this pug-faced little troll.

Colour me wondrous

Activist versus Activist

Racist activists vs activists vs racists:

Today, courtesy of the Toronto Star, we have on page 2 of the A section this little gem of activist versus activist:

What Barbara Hall is missing from her cookie-cutter racism fighter script is the motivation behind the racist heteronormative taxpayers. If you actually go outside of the city and move among the dirty peasants who live outside of Toronto, you will find that they are very concerned and very aware of the environment. So when Fred the Racist, or Jim the Racist, or Sally the Racist, come across someone using an illegal fishing method, or over fishing, or dumping stuff into the water (motor oil, transformer fluid, battery acid), they perceive the issue as ’defending the environment’ not ’lynch the foreign devil’.

Fred, Jim, and Sally do not see themselves as racists. They do not yet know that all whites are racists. Even when they are defending the streams, rivers, lakes, and swamps of Ontario. Anyone who fishes in Ontario has seen people (who could be profiled, if that was allowed) over fish, pollute, and despoil. As Fred sits and takes his legal limit of two trout, he has watched non-Fred fill buckets with fish … taking buckets and buckets of fish (way over the limit) and taking small fish (no breeding stock next year). Jim went fishing and came across a family group of non-Jim people (who could be profiled, if that was allowed) using nets and lights. It is illegal for Jim to use a net and lights to catch fish. Sally likes to take her children to the lake. When she goes to the lake, she hears her son complain that there are no fish; her daughter cries because the fish that they see are floating, dead. And when Fred, Jim, or Sally complain to the responsible authorities about the over fishing, netting, or dumping, nothing happens. So, Fred, Jim, and Sally become angry. Fred, Jim, and Sally do not see themselves as racists: they see themselves as environmentalists.

Clever Barbara has managed to alienate some several hundred thousand voters from her activist anti-racism program. Mind you, Barbara never leaves the city, never mixes with taxpayers, and only listens to her elite class of friends that hang out at the Grenadier restaurant in High Park. What about the environmental outrages committed by these people who are unaware of our cultural norms about over fishing, pollution, and environmental defilement? Who cares. Here, the superior status of non-white-Canadians is demonstrated over Green-Canadians.

Such is the way of activist versus activist. If we can identify the hierarchy of activist causes, we can then hitch our star to the one that will bring us the most money. So far, Asiatic polluters and despoilers of the environment outrank white racists. As for the boiling resentment that is building up, dear Barbara has just turned up the heat. The correct solution would be an awareness campaign among Over-Fishing-Illegal-Fishing-Garbage-Dumping-Canadians. Maybe explain to them this ‘fishing license’ thing, and the ‘catch size’ thing, and the ‘catch and release’ thing. What could have been a simple problem, has now been made into a larger one. Barbara has given the magic wand of approval to Asiatic abuse of natural resources, and has distracted police resources from protection of natural resources to one of persecution of those defending natural resources. For a racism fighter, Barbara is doing a great job of spreading it. Even here in Toronto, at the staff lunch table, everyone there (six taxpayers) all shared their stories of Asian environmental atrocities.

Embrace Asiatic cultural norms as regards fishing and outdoors recreation. Why spend hours waiting for the fish to bite when you can just net them? The police do not enforce the law. Just go to Caledonia to check for yourself.

I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this at both Mitchieville and DustMyBroom

What In Tarnation Am I?

Just from the look of this animal, I can tell that if I was to ever get into a fight with it, there would be no victor. If I sold tickets for $30 on pay-per-view, I'm sure I would make a small fortune. I'm not sure if I'd ever get a chance to spend the money though, the medical bills alone would most likely cancel out any cash I made through TV revenues.


Now I can't stop thinking about it. Man, I sure would like to punch this thing out. Let's see what some information source says about this fella:

a meat-eating mammal that lives in rainforests and wooded savannas on the island of Madagascar. It is the largest native predator on Madagascar. The ______ is related to the mongoose. ______'s are fast runners and are also very good at climbing trees.

Here's a message for all you mongoose's out there: Tell your cousins that The Mayor is all hopped up and is coming for you. It's go time!

You are now fitted with all the information you need to make an educated guess as to the identity of this animal.

So, What In Tarnation Am I?

American's Answer Call To Duty By The Droves

I've read quite a bit lately about how the American armed forces are having trouble with their recruiting. Let's have a boo at how bad it really is:

The Marine Corps far surpassed its recruiting goal last month and could eventually be more than a year ahead of schedule in its plan to grow the force to 202,000 members.

All military services met or exceeded their monthly recruiting goals in April, with the Marine Corps signing 142 percent of the number it was looking for, the Pentagon said.

The Army signed 101 percent of its goal, recruiting 5,681 against a goal of 5,650. The Navy and Air Force met their goals — 2,905 sailors and 2,435 airmen.

The Marine Corps enlisted 2,233 recruits against a goal of 1,577.

Are these people signing up because they are patriots? Are these people signing up and risking their lives because their country needs them and they are answering the call for duty? Are these people signing up because they love America?

No.

Pauline Jelinek of the Associated Press knows why they are signing up though:

Recruiting is easier in a slow economy, which limits other job possibilities that are available. But officials also noted that the Army and Marines have added recruiters as well as bonuses and other special benefits to attract more recruits in the midst of the unpopular war in Iraq.

And who is Pauline's source for this information? Why it's Pauline's ass. Look at that, she just plum pulled those FACTS out of her lazy ass. Good for Pauline and her lazy, and I'd be remiss if I didn't add, *stupid*, ass.

Look at that last line again--*Officials* (no names of course, or where the officials are from--but we can surmise they're most likely from China or Iran, but probably from her ass), are 'giving away bonuses to attract recruits in the midst of the unpopular war in Iraq'.

That's some fine reporting, Pauline. Completely non-judgmental and totally unbiased. No wonder the majority of the universe respect and believe the media.

Ass.

Sex And The City Pretty Much Sucks The Fat One

The first review of the Sex And the City movie is out, and it's everything I expected from a movie, and less:

There may be a problem with a film when a narrator constantly tells you the meaning of what you have just seen, gift-wrapping each scene with a moral.

There may be a problem with characters who shop with such conviction while the audience looks up from the trough of a credit crunch.

There may be a problem with stretching Sex and the City into a two hour and twenty minute film - it can feel like a never ending dinner party.

It sounds like the type of movie where halfway through, I reach into my pocket, pull out my 12" buck knife and slice my own head off.

The guy that reviewed the movie admits that the women in the theatre were weeping and cheering and laughing and possibly masturbating to a picture of me, but that seems slightly unlikely.

Who shouldn't see this movie? Anyone with less than two x chromosomes.

Who should see this movie? Bitter, crusty malcontents that have low social skillz, a thin grasp on reality, and people who say shit like, "You go girl!"

Or, it could be really good