Friday, November 30, 2012

Flavos Shrimp Rolls

I was sifting through public domain videos and found this little gem.  Flavos Shrimp Roll.  A delectable treat once available in drive-in theaters across the country.  A true, lost culinary treasure.

A meaty shrimp mixture all wrapped up in a crispy noodle jacket!  Doesn't it just sound mouth watering?  I'll bet it was served just above room temperature.

They're Shrimply Delicious!


Thursday, November 29, 2012

Steaming Pile o' Tekkit - Episode 14

Hamtackle and Terlet are at their bullshitiest on today's Steaming Pile!  Murder machines!  Egg Farms!  Spider Ambushes!  Lots of talk and no action!  Tuck back your sack and hang on tight! Exclamation point!

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Music by Kevin MacLeod


Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Diary Of A Degenerate 25

Vanessa was stronger than me. Her mood was perpetually filled with childish glee, she had bleached her hair (which was ridiculous because she still had jet black eyebrows), and she was even learning how to drive my car so we could keep on the move when I was blind drunk. Which I was frequently now, up to two liters per day. It had been a week since I shot her dad and we were pretending it didn't happen, living out the lives of traveling gypsies until we could figure out what to do.

We thought about mexico, but neither of us spoke any spanish. She wanted to move to the south, but I fucking hate the humid weather. So we drifted from town to town, staying only a few nights at each stop until we either got bored or outstayed our welcome. I was feeling trapped with her again and it reminded me why I was so happy to be rid of her the first time. It was like I took in a stray dog and was stuck with it now, too guilty to put it back where I found it. Besides, it wasn't her fault. I guess I just can't be happy unless I'm miserable.

Shit. She was taking a shower, which means she is planning on dragging me into public tonight. We were staying in a $200 a night hotel now, complete with air conditioning and room service. They would bring us chilled bottles of wine with a simple ring of the telephone so I was lit up at all times and pretty content to stay in, but I was didn't argue with her anymore. Instead of stealing her music from her like before, or pursuing other women to make her angry, I just degraded her in bed. When she wanted to be on top, I would force her face in the pillows. If she started to enjoy it I would fuck her in the ass. And if she started to play along with that I just gave up altogether. And even after all that she would still wrap her skinny arms around me and bury her head in my chest until she was fast asleep. It was only then that I would take her hands and hold them close under the covers. She was always so fucking cold but my blood ran hot enough for both of us, and I would smell her hair and catch myself almost falling in love with her. And then in the morning I would treat her like a stranger again. Sometimes I wondered if she was ever just pretending to sleep, so starved for affection that she would feign unconsciousness just to trick me into being nice to her for a few precious minutes. She had better not be. Because I would never forgive her for it.

All this mess was going though my head as I walked into the bathroom, undressed, and stepped into the shower with her. She looked over her shoulder at me with a smile on her face and I grabbed a hold of her from behind and just let the hot water wash over us in silence. I guess I owed her that much.



Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Steaming Pile o' Tekkit - Episode 13

How to dispose of dead babies, stealth skeletons, another f'ing creeper and other treasures on today's Steaming Pile!  Continued classiness.

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Music by Kevin MacLeod


Monday, November 26, 2012

Budget Artistic Acquisitions

Any dedicated reader of the Popular Irony blog already knows that I made a once in a lifetime trip to Italy this year, and I figured that dead horse was in need of another posthumous bludgeoning, so here we have some of the artwork I acquired from various street artists. The twist is... none of these pieces were bought by any traditional means. In fact, not a single dollar changed hands for any of them! Now I share my secrets for how to grow your art collection on a pauper's budget.


Much of my time on this year's trip was spent in tuscany, which is known for it's rich farmland and endless fields of sunflowers. While wandering the streets of San Gimignano with some locally bottled wine and two loaves of heavy, fresh bread for that night's dinner, I came across an obviously talented woman showcasing her watercolors. I traded twelve fruitless minutes under her heavy skirt, but after managing only to disappoint her I gave half of one loaf of bread, leaving with this painting and a froth mustache that has yet to fully wash away. I will remember her fondly always.



While in tuscany I had the good fortune to spend a week in a private villa converted from a 14th century Medici stable house, with breathtaking views in every direction. While drunkenly trying to decipher the rules of a game of bocce I noticed another young male artist on the property painting our luxurious accomodations. I approached him with a large smile so as not to startle the boy, but once within twenty yards I fell upon him with fury. After beating him within an inch of his urchin-like existence I noticed the quality of his work. Lucky for him I accepted a trade of this piece for a thirty-second head start getaway, and in my drunken state I was unable to catch him on foot.



While staying in Venice I met up with an exceptional watercolor artist in San Marco square who had a unique style of combining airbrush with traditional paints. He had unreasonable demands that were the subject of much debating between us, but in the end I gave him a sturdy handjob in the shadow of the basilica in exchange for this work. But the joke was on him. I would have given the handy for free!


This small oil painting was being sold along the tourist-trap banks of the grand canal, where the crowds of germans and americans wash over every inch of walking space and clog the bottlenecks of bridges for as far as the eye can see. This painting caught my eye because it was being guarded by a severely disabled elderly woman who must have been working with the artist, perhaps related to him or her. I took the opportunity to snatch this painting and slip into anonymity amongst the crowd as she cackled her protests upon deaf ears.



And finally I share my favorite piece. I acquired this in Rome, although the subject matter is clearly the canals of Venice. I was awestruck by the detail and quality in this large painting, and complimented the old man on his obvious skill. We discussed pricing for the piece, but I must admit I runed my leverage by showing such transparent fondness for it, and his asking price was far too high, so I reluctantly walked away. Luckily there was a police officer around the corner chain smoking with a submachine gun and leaning against his alfa romeo squadcar. I frantically explained in broken italian that I saw an elderly man sodomizing a toddler with his knobby, arthritic digits, and gave a detailed description. While the officer was administering a savage beating I was able to sneak away with this painting. It is the most prized piece in my collection.


Sunday, November 25, 2012

Steaming Pile o' Tekkit - Episode 12

While Hamtackle is accomplishing shit on the surface, Terlet is wandering unarmed, underground, trying to retrieve his entire inventory.  They really are terrible at this game. 

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Music by Kevin MacLeod


Saturday, November 24, 2012

Films For Fiends: Guinea Pig 2

Welcome again to Films For Fiends, where I, Hamtackle, watch the most disturbing, controversial, and violent films ever produced so you don't have to! It's been a long time since I have weighed in with another installment, so I hope you haven't had to look elsewhere for you gorno fix. Enjoy!

The Guinea Pig series is a notorious collection of japanese horror films that are famous for their themes of sexual sadism and torture. I already reviewed the first film in the series, "The Devil's Experiment", and now bring you a run down on part 2, subtitled "Flower of Flesh and Blood". It claims the background of a video sent to prominent manga horror cartoonist Hideshi Hino by a misguided fan, who viewed it and then turned it over to the police before reproducing it in this gem of shock horror cinema.

As with any japanese horror, the film begins with an ominous sequence of a young woman being pursued and abducted by a masked man. Come to think of it, this is also how most japanese pornography begins. Maybe I downloaded the wrong file. The only way to know for sure is after her abductor applies electric shock, he will either stab her with a knife or a dildo.

Ok, this is clearly the horror version. The drugged girl awakens tied to a table, and a man dressed as a samurai stands over her and decapitates a chicken telling her "This is your fate!" as if that wasn't obvious by the act itself. Of course, in his defense, she might have just thought he was cooking her dinner. Japanese courtship rituals often mirror those of serial killers. Luckily for her the man keeps drugging her with some unknown injectable cocktail, and let's face it: if you are going to be rape/killed by a wacky mustachioed samurai, you're going to want to be as far from sober as possible.

And after a half-assed explanation of the artistic merits of his fetishistic torture, he gets right down to the nitty gritty by cutting off both of the girl's hands. I must admit, the effects are quite realistic, complete with grasping fingers after detachment. He then cuts off her arms at the shoulder with equally impressive effects. You see the cutting close-up, with minimal cutaways. He even employs the use of a carpenter's chisel to get through the shoulder joint.

It seems pretty clear now that this guy's plan is to disassemble this girl like a thanksgiving turkey, as he gets to detaching the legs at the knee with a crude, rusty hand saw. This flick would almost be believable if it weren't for the dramatic and shitty acting by the killer and the total lack of nudity. Pretty much any serial killer is going to be masturbating into the viscera of their victim eventually. It's kinda the point of the whole thing, I think. This guy doesn't even sport so much as a half-chub as he opens her stomach and removes the intestines. But then again, he is japanese, so who knows? The special effect guy gets bonus points for using animal guts al-la dawn of the dead. They make for a much more authentic experience.

The girl is then shown some mercy as the killer literally drops the axe on her, separating her head from the body (or is it the body from the head? I'm not sure.) We are then treated to a close up eye removal via spoon, and their seductive kissing and licking by our psycho, and then the film cuts to him sitting on the bloodstained table smoking a cigarette. Maybe he jerked off into the corpse off-camera. Good thing. We showed up to watch hardcore violence, not disgusting and taboo sexuality. The film ends with the killer showing off his collection of severed limbs and preserved eyes, along with some additional half-assed poetry.

If you are familiar with the original Guinea Pig film, then you know what to expect from this. But there is one noticeable difference, and that is the unconsciousness of the female lead in this one. Personally I like it better this way, as the frantic screaming of a young japanese girl is always welcome, but only in short measures. The first film was like watching tentacle porn with sandpaper suction cups, and not in a good way. These films are one of the first series to attempt virtual snuff films, and gave birth to the "torture porn" genre. And given it's brief vignette style of filming and complete lack of any plotline or redeeming social value makes this film the perfect way for a seriously sick individual to get a short fix of violence to beat back the urges to dismember your coworkers. If that sort of thing is not your bag, then you probably stopped reading this after the first few paragraphs.


Friday, November 23, 2012

Steaming Pile o' Tekkit - Episode 11

Terlet tries his hand at unarmored spelunking and discovers diamonds, danger and the innate ability to fuck everything up.  Hamtackle waits on the surface, like a damn coward, spewing insulting advice.  Continued classiness.

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Music by Kevin MacLeod


Thursday, November 22, 2012

Turkey Holocaust 2012: Proper Poultry Preparation

It is that time of year again when we as Americans assert our dominance over all of turkeykind. Most of us will sit around in the living room watching football while the dirty work is done, but there is something magical going on in the kitchen that we should all know about. Some of our thanksgiving chefs will be buying a pre-packaged turkey that requires only a quick removal of neck and giblets from the carcass, a quick washing, then the application of various breads and vegetables into the gaping maw of the bird by hand. But a few of us will be truly getting our hands dirty and slaughtering our own turkeys, reinforcing the bond between our primitive hunter/gatherer mind and the animals that are sacrificed for our well being. And as a local authority on turkey preparation I feel it is my responsibility to lead you through the less-than-pleasant parts of the process.

Now we all know how to actually cook the bird, but few know about the ancient art of ending it's life properly. The killing of the animal is quite simple, as turkeys are notoriously stupid and must be under constant supervision to avoid wandering through death's door on their own, but if you need a someone to hold your hand through this part let me offer you two words: large rocks. After plucking the bird it will be very difficult to tenderize it without damaging the delicate skin, so it is best to kill the bird with a bucket full of palm-sized rocks, which will soften the connective tissue of the meat and end it's life in one simple step. So pummel that animal and let's move on to feather-removal!

Plucking may seem like a difficult task, but this is where our modern world comes in handy. Just wrap the dead animal in 1-2 rolls of duct tape, grab the loose end of the roll, and swing the bird around your head until the centrifugal force unravels the delicious mummy. There! You've got a fresh and clean turkey corpse!

Before getting to the squishy offal within the animal you must defeat it's basic defenses which have evolved over time to have a psychological effect on the primary predator of the turkey, mankind. Your common grocery store turkey has been processed already, so don't be shocked when you learn the truth about the anatomy. The cavity that holds the guts in place is protected by a full set of human-like teeth and eyes, which must be removed manually before stripping the gums and proceeding with evisceration. Use a paring knife to peel back the gum line and make yanking the teeth a bit easier, and grip them with household pliers before removing with a twist and abrupt downward force. Make sure you have a solid hold of the tooth, because failure to remove the full root could make future consumption rather unpleasant for some of your guests.

Now you probably have noticed at this point that your turkey comes equipped with a pair of shockingly human-like eyes. Don't worry, as they are entirely non-functional and are only there to startle you. Do not hesitate in plucking them out with a tablespoon in much the same manner a some would employ a melon baller. The sooner they are not staring up at you the sooner you will be able to get past this unpleasantness. Now that this is done you are ready to complete the final step before cooking.

Few amateur chefs are aware of the strange anatomy of the turkey, but it is widely known among farmers and butchers that a turkey has roughly a quarter mile of intestines within it's bloated frame. It uses them to digest the bones of it's primary food source in the wild, mice and rats. So get a mid-size garbage bag ready and thrust a hand through the maw of the beast. Once the bowels are fully unplugged, grasp the bladder at the base and twist to avoid spillage. Once removed, simply yank out the lungs and spleen to complete the process and get to cooking.

From here, it is entirely up to you how you prepare your bird, from deep frying to slow roasting, the possibilities are endless. And since you took the animal's life yourself, you get the satisfaction of having bested one of mankind's most formidable foes. The domesticated turkey.

Enjoy your carcass flesh, and remember to be thankful that your genitals still function. Unless they don't, in which case you may want to kill yourself.


Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Steaming Pile o' Tekkit - Episode 10

The search for precious ore is on!  Witness the hot, sexy, underground action!

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Music by Kevin MacLeod


Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Diary Of A Degenerate 24

It has been said that death is the bringer of peace, but that is complete bullshit in my experience. I have seen three dead men and one dead woman in my days and they all looked like pain and distress. I looked down onto the distorted, jawless face of my victim that night and witnessed his surprise and post-mortem agony in overflowing quantities. And when I dreamed that night I made penance. I tried in vain to patch the hole in his face with endless handfuls of mud and sand only to watch it pour through the funnel of gore onto the steps below us. I didn't mean to save his life, but rather to save my own from the cancer of lifelong guilt, but it was proven futile when I awoke and saw Vanessa's pale nudeness reflected in the moonlight from outside the Burgess' cracked windows and realized what had been done.

It was strange because while I slept in short fits she was down deep, sleeping like I had never seen her manage before. The entire drive to my apartment had been a stressful and silent mess, but surprisingly Vanessa seemed totally calm. I had slain her personal boogeyman, and now bore the burden she carried for so many years before our paths crossed. My mind was running weary with thoughts of consequence which was contrary to my nature and the drink wasn't numbing the sound anymore. We must leave this ghetto sanctuary. I have to abandon my gun. We need to drain her father's bank accounts in the morning. I have to burn my bloody clothes. Anything to dodge my justice.

I got out of bed and poured a glass of whiskey. Vanessa had the good sense to grab some of her belongings as well as her father's cash and billfold complete with four signed blank checks, which was enough to get us far from here. I had two more days left on this week's rent at the Burgess but we had no intention of staying any longer, so as soon as Vanessa woke we would hit the road and get to her father's bank before the cops had time to monitor the accounts. I went for a piss and when I came back Vanessa was up and looking out the curtain-less window. I reminded her that a topless white woman in the ghetto was bullet bait, so we got dressed and left.

We arrived at the bank just as it was opening, and I waited in the car. Vanessa said they knew here here, and sure enough she walked back a half hour later with 40k in cash and a shit-eating grin to match. I had never seen money like that before. So much for any plausible legal argument for manslaughter or self-defense. Before leaving the state we decided to do some quick shopping, and Vanessa was so thrilled she decided to blow me while I drove. I almost killed us both and had to put a stop to it since she nearly bit my cock off when I had to suddenly hit the brakes.

She spent the next four hours buying mostly clothes, and I found a nice gutter to drop my revolver into. I had that gun since I was twenty and nearly cried when I heard it splash in the sewage below. Now my car was full of shopping bags and damning evidence and we still had no idea where to go from here, so we stopped at a fast food joint and ate our fill of discount tacos. There we sat in the car, a bag filled to the brim with $100 bills and we still ate like white trash. Fucking wild.

Monday, November 19, 2012

Steaming Pile o' Tekkit - Episode 9

Terlet and Hamtackle finally delve underground in search of treasure.  As always, they are ill-prepared.

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Music by Kevin MacLeod


Sunday, November 18, 2012

Spaghetti Again?

Eww! No No No NO!!  Don't let it touch me.  I don't care if you think it is cute.  Hose it off and I'll consider giving you false praise for your filthy loin leavings. 

What!?  You too!?  No, I would not like to meet your child.  What is it covered in?  It doesn't matter what it is because I won't be getting close enough to smell it.  Do all kids eat only spaghetti?

I'm gonna be sick.  Why does it have to laugh with every mouthful.  It is getting everywhere.  Why do you condone this action?  You laugh and encourage the filth?  Could you open that door for me I need to leave.  No, I won't touch the door knob myself.  This place reeks of infant plague.

OK.  Thanks.  It threw up, so I threw up.  I hope you are happy.  Good luck getting that red wine out of that rug.  That rug was fucked anyway.  Your kid is a walking dung mop.

Thanks for having me over.  Don't bother inviting me next time.  Your family is a mess and I hate you for it.


Saturday, November 17, 2012

Steaming Pile o' Tekkit - Episode 8

Hamtackle and Terlet drink, swear and build a house.  Now with improved audio!!

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Music by Kevin MacLeod


Friday, November 16, 2012

Sunshine Limited

I don't place much value in philosophy. It has never solved any problems, only created them. It has never served to concentrate understanding, only to dilute it. And in philosophical arguments no side is ever deemed to be wrong, just varying degrees of correct. But I still enjoy a good debate as long as both sides belly up to the bar with the agreed upon understanding that no progress will be made on either front.

This subject piqued my interest when I watched the HBO adaptation of Cormac McCarthy's play "Sunshine Limited". It features a professor (played by Tommy Lee Jones) discussing whether life is worth living with a makeshift preacher and savior (played by Samuel L Jackson) in the preacher's home shortly after interrupting his new friend's suicide attempt. At one point the preacher accuses the professor of seeing only the shadows, and not realizing he is the one casting them. Whoa. Deep shit.

It got me thinking. The preacher claims he can see the darkness that his friend is dwelling in. He does not deny the professor his world view, just the cynical blinders he sees it with. The preacher is not a saintly figure. He is, in fact, a convicted murderer and former drunkard, and believes he has lived farther in the darkness than the professor ever will. But he thinks there is more to the world than just the shadows, and the professor just needs to turn around to see the light that is shining behind him. The almighty is offering a gift of everlasting life, and all that needs to be done is to accept it and believe that his soul is worth embracing, not because he is deserving of that embrace, but because the cost of the gift has already been paid by his savior. But the light at the professor's back is giving him no warmth, so it apparently goes unnoticed, and the professor must be so content in his world view that he will keep walking forward, staring into his own shadow until he meets his dismal end.

The story does a great job of convincing the viewer that the preacher is making headway in the argument. He walked through the shadows himself just to find that it is possible to simply turn around and bask in the warm light. And he tries desperately, but not forcefully, to appeal to the professor's will to live. But the debate is not so simple.

The professor listens carefully, and plays the role of the student for a long while. But when he speaks he makes his own perspective seem equally real. He is an educated man, and he carries the burden of high intellect. He wishes for the darkness. He is not walking with his view buried deep in his own shadow, but rather he is marching into the light with his eyes open to the brightness of knowledge, and the sadness, contempt, and hate that makes up the matrix of our reality. He explains that he is beyond saving by the very terms of the preacher's misguided faith, and even if he could believe, he has, as did Adam and Eve, committed the original sin of eating from the tree of knowledge. The flaw in the argument for the professor is in it's very premise. Far from secretly desiring the gift of eternal life that is being offered by the unapparent creator, he desires only nothingness. And in his death he hopes with every fiber of his being that nothingness will be his destination, because anything more would be too big of a disappointment for him to bear.

Ultimately neither man is able to persuade the other, as is the hallmark of any philosophical discussion, and the viewer is left to determine whether the depressing ending is more of a failure for the preacher or a validation for the professor. I certainly have my own personal leanings, which I would share with you if it would do either of us any good. But it wouldn't.



Thursday, November 15, 2012

Steaming Pile o' Tekkit - Episode 7

Hamtackle brings a filthy thought experiment and Terlet makes wood do that wall thing.  This episode contains far too much dick and cock talk.

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Music by Kevin MacLeod


Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Scum City Avengers - Anthem

Boy Howdy!  I am almost out of Scum City Avengers songs.  What the fuck am I gonna do when I don't feel like putting any work into a post?  Well shit.  This song is called Anthem.  It's an anthem or some such thing.  Enjoy!

This Sausage

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Steaming Pile o' Tekkit - Episode 6

Terlet struggles pathetically with simple structures.  Hamtackle drinks his whiskey and tells a story about home invasion by army men as a child.  Continued classiness.

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Music by Kevin MacLeod

Monday, November 12, 2012

Diary Of A Degenerate 23

I have no excuses. I had plenty of time to think the whole thing through. But I still grabbed my revolver from under the passenger seat of my car and headed back up the stairs. There was the sound of muffled crying and the whispers of consolation as I started the climb, and as I leaned over the railing to look up I could see the heel of a bare foot peeking out. Daddy was there, trying to be her rock. Pretending he wasn't the source of all Vanessa's fucked up thoughts, the reason she would give herself up to a man like me.

When I turned the corner of the level below them he turned back and looked at me. I'm pretty sure he saw the gun right away, because he just sat there with his mouth open. He was between me and Vanessa now, but he kneeled and she sat, so he was raised up over her a foot or two. I raised the gun and pulled the trigger.

I was as shocked as he was when the hammer dropped on an empty chamber, and for a moment he looked relieved. He brought his hand up in protest as I pulled the hammer up again and fired. The round thundered through the enclosed space of the stairwell and split his hand between the ring and middle finger. Vanessa's sobbing turned instantly to shrieking as her father slumped over her backwards, his back arching in a way that would have been incredibly painful for a man his age if he weren't already stone dead. I took the last few steps up the stairs to see if he needed finishing off, but the round had entered his face at the chin and I could see the white surface of the stairs on the other side. So I grabbed him by his shredded hand and pulled him off of Vanessa, who seemed to still be screaming except all I could hear was my heartbeat and a ringing sound now.

She rose up to her feet and hugged me around the shoulders, pinning my arm and the gun at the end of it to my waist. "We have to go" I said, "the car is downstairs." Her screaming was now labored breathing, and she nodded her approval of the plan. But just as I started leading her down the stairs she pulled her hand free. "Wait! I will be right back!" and started hurdling up the stairs two at a time in her bare feet. I wasn't giving her much time since I didn't feel like dying in prison, so I went for the car. I stashed the gun back under the seat and started the engine. The exit from the parking lot looked exactly like salvation, a womb to crawl into and escape the ugliness outside, but I didn't race for it. I waited.

After a few seconds that seemed like ten minutes Vanessa came running out of the alley between the two buildings with a garbage bag spilling over with clothes, and leapt into the open door at my side as the engine roared and we made our escape. She was crying silently now and gripped my arm so tight that I struggled to work the shifter, and I looked down at the top of her head as it rested on my bicep, the same spot where, just a few weeks ago, she had stabbed me in my sleep. The world is a truly fucked up place.


Sunday, November 11, 2012

Steaming Pile o' Tekkit - Episode 5

Terlet sings off key to annoy Hamtackle.  The usual arguing, foul language and lack of progress follows.

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Music by Kevin MacLeod


Saturday, November 10, 2012

Here is a Gif....That is all. - Weird Rambo

A clip from the movie "UHF".  A classic film that is one of my Top 5 favorite movies of all time.  That is all.


Friday, November 9, 2012

Steaming Pile o' Tekkit - Episode 4

Terlet and Hamtackle finally find a rubber tree and start a grove of their own.  Arguing and insults ensue.  Terlet blew up.

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Music by Kevin MacLeod

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Obama's Second Term Shows True Colors

The campaign is over, and the president has established himself as a two term success with a mandate to press his political platform for the next four years. No longer burdened by the looming threat of a second term election battle, president Barack Hussein Obama has shed his electorate-friendly image and revealed his true agenda to a shocked and outraged american populace.

Gone is the empathetic smile and businessman's necktie, replaced with a stern gaze, neatly placed bowtie, and black-framed eyeglasses. As indicated by an unnamed Obama administration insider, "It appears that president Barack Obama has revealed himself to be a devout Nation Of Islam member." If confirmed, this revelation could have major implications on the future of the country and the president's willingness to compromise with the starkly white/male congress. In fact, there have been some disturbing rumblings coming from certain members of the conservative opposition that lends credibility to the story of the president's apparent radical leanings. According to house majority leader John Boehner:

Two hours after Ohio was called for the president on Tuesday I received an anonymous email to an encrypted congressional address that is reserved for sensitive communications. It featured an image of a meat packing facility with full view of a conveyor system of hog carcasses being processed with the caption "It is doubly dangerous to dance on the ice with heavy cloven hooves". At the time, I thought this might just be a joke from one of my agricultural campaign contributing buddies that was forwarded by one of my personal email accounts, but I am now convinced this was a thinly-veiled threat from the president.

At the time of publication for this story, we have yet to confirm the validity of a document that was possibly leaked from within the president's administration that details a disturbing and aggressive agenda for the upcoming term. It suggests that the disaster of the fiscal cliff scenario that would cause automatic and dire cuts to both social programs and military spending may only be avoidable with the implementation of a new "oppressor's tax" on those making greater than $1.25 million gross annual income that would range from 40%-80%, depending on a scaled tax table. The document also indicates a possible coalition with numerous black and latino political action committees that intend to press specific social reforms regarding affirmative action in hiring policies nationwide, and immigration reforms that would offer amnesty for undocumented immigrants and open the doors for their families to join them without persecution.

The commentary from both sides of the aisle is understandably sparse considering the unconfirmed nature of these reports, but we were able to secure the sentiment of Donald Trump via email. He simply stated "I fucking told you so, America. I fucking told you so."

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Steaming Pile o' Tekkit - Episode 3

Hamtackle and Terlet begin their long, sad quest for rubber trees.

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Music by Kevin MacLeod

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Election 2012 - An Exercise in Schadenfreude

Thank fucking Christ that this shit is almost over.  This election year has been fucking terrible.  Everyone was just awful.  Even the candidates that I like, suck balls.  Assholes, the whole lot of them.

Worse than the candidates is the fucking voters.  ASSHOLES!  Yes, you!  I am sick of the bullshit arguments over the same boring ass talking points.  Nobody has anything new to say, or even have a unique opinion, myself included.  It's all the same 24 hour news cycle, political bullshit. 

Everyone is either quoting Fox News or Huffington Post, one extreme to another.  Oh, and they are always right!  There is no debate, there is no "trying to see someone else's point of view", no civil discussion or goals of mutual understanding, it's all heated arguments and Facebook un-friendings.

And what kind of asshole posts political stuff on their fucking Facebook page?  You know that you are bound to piss off several "Friends" with your vitriol.  Everyone thinks they are smarter than everyone else and wants everyone to know it.  Just because you watch a shitty morning news show or sometimes squeeze a news website between your Pinterest and porn, does not make you informed.

I wish we could go back to a time when it was rude to discuss politics.  What the fuck happened to that shit?  I see people get in near fistfights because of the stupid bumper stickers they sport.  "I disagree with your sticker statement!" *punch punch* Again, assholes.

Do you want to know the truth folks?  We're all wrong.  Even the people that are educated on the issues, they especially, are wrong.  Everyone has their political beliefs and there will always be someone to tell you that you are an idiot.

Let's just make it easy on each other as fellow Americans.... Shut the fuck up and keep your opinions to yourself.  Nobody cares what you think.  Nobody.  Even the people that agree with you.  And please, don't try to sound interesting by parroting everything your favorite celebrity newscaster says.  Everyone knows you didn't think of it yourself.

Tomorrow will be a good day to witness mass schadenfreude.  If Romney wins, you'll see Romney supporters lasciviously drooling at the downcast expressions of the Obama supporters.  And vice versa.  The best part of this whole election will be drawing pleasure from the sadness of the 49.9% of the country that voted for "the other guy".  So if your guy wins, make sure to rub it in!

I'll find out who the president is tomorrow.  I am keeping the TV off tonight.  Just DVDs, no Internet news.  I am just going to remain calm and politely go about my business.  You should do the same.  In four years, I would love to not know who everyone is voting for.  Pay attention, but don't act like you are paying attention.  If we all act like we don't care, maybe the next election cycle will be moderately civil.


Monday, November 5, 2012

Steaming Pile o' Tekkit - Episode 2

It's Tekkit day 2 and Terlet and Hamtackle have accomplished very little.  Can these idiots stop insulting each other long enough to get shit done?  Probably not, it's a Steaming Pile o' Tekkit!

Want that Texture?:

Music by Kevin MacLeod


Sunday, November 4, 2012

Cleaning Chrome

Huzzah and kudos!  It's time for another Popular Irony original song!!  Sir Chapsworth, Hamtackle and Terlet had some refreshing alcoholic beverages and were inspired to write an enchanting tune.  A song about forbidden love!  A song about banging that hot robot poon!  Get you some!

You like sexy time, yes?


Saturday, November 3, 2012

Steaming Pile o' Tekkit - Episode 1

Here we go folks!  I know that you have been all chomping at the bit since the announcement of our new Youtube series.  Well chomp no more!  STEAMING PILE O' TEKKIT is on the intertubes!!

It's the first day for Hamtackle and Terlet in the world of Tekkit!  Watch them drunkenly struggle to survive while they argue like assholes.  It's Minecraft with more goodies and more swearing.

Want that Texture?:

Free Music by Kevin MacLeod


Friday, November 2, 2012

Diary Of A Degenerate 22

Perhaps I was being naive, or maybe just a little too hopeful, but I gathered up all my shit and packed it into my car. It all amounted to about two bags of clothes and crap, six cans of food, a dozen or so books, a half empty jug of whiskey, and my gun. I was going back to my old apartment to see Vanessa and hopefully move back in and get properly laid for the first time in a while. I decided to head out early since she was a late sleeper and would almost certainly still be asleep before about noon, and hit the road. If everything went well I would never come back to this shithole.

After stopping on the way to get gas I looked in my wallet at the three twenty dollar bills that seemed so very lonely, like the the final surviving prisoners of a condemned gang waiting silently for their number to be called. I couldn't help but wonder if my fond memories of Vanessa were subconsciously fueled by my need for money and aversion to work, or an indication of my true feelings for the woman. I just hoped she would be likewise yearning again for my company and not still furious over our fighting and the money I took from her purse. If she pressed me I could say I used it to pay for my emergency room visit (lies), and tell her how the betrayal felt more painful than the knife she left in my arm (more lies).

It took another hour and a half to make it back to my old neighborhood, and when I pulled into the lot I saw my old space still unoccupied. I took the stairs and sheepishly approached the apartment door, the carpet in the hallway still slightly orange from the blood I had spilled there. I could hear a muffled radio through the door, proof she was still home. I knocked softly, and after a few seconds heard the locks grinding open. I was face to face with an old man, probably twenty years my senior. "Hello." he said "Can I help you?" I was a bit startled. "I'm sorry... I used to know the last tenant here. Sorry to bother." And turned away, dejected.

On the way down the stairs I decided to drop by the landlord's apartment and see if she knew where Vanessa moved to, until I heard her voice. "Wait!" Vanessa came running down the steps after me in a bathrobe. "Oh my god! Where have you been? I have been so worried..." Tears were rolling down her face, smearing yesterday's mascara. I was confused. "Not worried enough to keep from dragging some old fuck back into our home, huh? Blowing his wrinkled cock in our bed, huh?" Her vulnerability triggered my predatory instinct and I was on the attack. "It's not what you think, goddammit! He's my fucking father, ok?" She was speaking through short, sobbing breaths. How could I be so fucking dumb? Of course it was her father. I took the last of her money, but she was still here. Still living comfortably, probably eating well, and most likely earning her hush money again. "Oh I get it." I said calmly. "Daddy's got his little whore back." I broke free of Vanessa's grasp and watched her fall to her knees on the stairs, wailing and broken, then turned and headed down to my car to get my gun.




I have spent many hours trying to get out first episode of our Tekkit Youtube series to post, but to no avail.  Big files take big time.

So fuck.  It's the middle of the night and I don't have a post.  Fuck.  I have to work in a few hours.  Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck.

It's coming folks, it just takes time.  It is of the highest quality, I assure you.  If you don't see a video posted tomorrow then something went terribly wrong.  Patience motherfuckers, it will be worth it.