Thursday, October 29, 2009


  Does this look right?

Happy Orange and Black Day y'all! Wait.......what the fuck is Orange and Black Day? Really? Instead of letting the kids dress up in their costumes at shcool, they are "encouraged to wear orange and black? But wait, some of the kids can dress up? Would somebody care to explain this to me? Why is it that some of the kids can dress up but most are required to wear orange and black? Well of course, because some people don't celebrate Halloween. That makes complete sense. Oh, no costume parade either? Why? Because it takes away from school time? What's everybody doing Friday afternoon again? Halloween parties, bowling or other non-school activities? I can understand that. Well at least I could if I were a COMPLETE FUCKING IDIOT!

I'm sure that this will piss some of you off and I can understand that you may not wish to talk to me after I'm done. I'm willing to accept this becuase I've fucking had it. I've had it with society catering to every minority in this great country of ours. We're a melting pot of different colours, cultures and religions. We have to get along even though I'm quite aware that we constantly don't. I'm 100% aware that various religions and races have been persecuted over the centuries for no good reason other then that they conflict with ones own. But for fucks sake, Halloween? Dressing up as monsters or princesses now offends some people's delicate sensibilities. You know what else might offend one's sesnses? Me skull fucking your eye-socket with a vampire mouthed fleshlight. I'm tired of having to give up my traditions and celebrations becuase literally three people don't like it.

Honestly, if we're going to take this approach to public celebrations, we should be abolishing Christmas (I'm well aware that they're trying) tying Santa up and stoning him. To hell with New Years Eve, the Chinese celebrate it at a different time so lets just get rid of it all together. America celebrates Thanksgiving at a different time then Canada and I'm sure there are some americans living here (you'd better hope I never find you) so let's kick that one to the curb as well. Fuck it! recently dumped people probably aren't all that into Valentine's Day either, down with love! Down with love! Easter? I'm not even touching that one with Tracer Bullet's dick.

People, we all came to this country at some time and brought our religions and traditions with us, but some have been here longer than others. If you want your kids to go to school in a kilt, I don't care. A burka, I don't care. A turban, I don't care. In fact, please do send your kids to school in culturally specific clothing. Maybe it would help open a dialogue so that we can teach our kids more about each other and broaden their understanding of other cultures. But the Supreme Court of Canada has ruled that we have to be tolerant of other peoples traditions and religions. Right down to a sheikh being able to wear a turban as part of a uniform that has remained essentially unchanged for two hundred years. I respect your right to express yourself, pray to whomever you want and celebrate your traditions so, in return, I expect the same thing. I also expect policy makers to start fucking grow a pair and stop this ridiculous pandering to a very few people. Oh, that includes those fucking puritans who look upon Halloween as a form of devil worship.

The long and the short of it is: it's Halloween, pull  the stick out of your ass and let the kids have some fun. Oh, and my kids will be wearing their costumes. Cockgobblers.

(I also have a lovely rant on the worst school ever, but that's for another day.)

StabbyMart: Putting The "Weeeeeee" Back in Halloween.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009


We here at StabbyMart are committed to providing you with the most pleasurable shopping experience. When you shop at our store, you will find only the finest items of death, pain and dismemberment. Please avail yourself of our complimentary Rascal scooters outfitted with the latest in flame-broiling technology. For your conveinience, they are also equipped with a multi-flavour liquor dispenser and our patented fetapult. Shopping at StabbyMart should be a pleasurable experience for you. Our other shoppers, however, should watch their bitch-asses, know their role and stay the fuck out of your way.

We at stabbymart understand that some people can't make it to our store in person. We sympathize with the shut-ins, fatties who can't fit through their front doors and World of Warcraft enthusiasts. In the interest of serving the losery side of the population, we've developed a seasonal catalogue that will allow these wastes of space to shop for their favorite items of torture and headblastoffness in the comfort of their own home. Mostly to use on themselves I would suspect but neverthless, they're almost people too. Now you might ask yourself "why, in this day and age, doesn't StabbyMart have a website?" Beacause FUCK YOU!, that's why.

Say hello to the Platinum Knuckled Expandable Sodomizer ($79.95). Do you hate rain? Do you hate people who make you go out in the rain? Do you hate people you randomly meet while standing in the rain? This little beauty comes with a solid platinum taint puncher, a 100% washable, kevlar prostate prober and can also double as an umbrella. Simply close the protective mushroom, insert and re-open to impart an excrutiating rectal rearranging. Guaranteed to expand colons by at least 50%.

Tired of having to take a cold shower? Sick of pulling massive gobs of wirey pubic hair out of the drain? Exasperated by shampoo bottles that have been used as dildos? Do we have the item for you! Meet the Loufa Of Exfoliating Death ($29.62). This little puppy looks like a regular loufa, feels like a regular loufa and even recieves a jolly good rogering like a regular loufa. What's the difference? Our patented process that infuses the loufa with a time-release acid treatment. They'll never know that they're actually applying a thin layer of caustic acid to their skin that won't trigger until an hour later. Watch in joy as this lovely loufa exfoliates then renders their flesh into a gruesome slurry of blood, guts and ass that would impress even the most discerning abbatoir.

 This trusty little fellow is the Ultimate Upper Management Defender ($216.58).  Give it as a gift when your on your bosses good side. Then force him or her to use it when they inevitably fire your lazy office supply stealing ass. Built of a lead/mercury alloy, it's slowly killing your pustuous hufflecunt of a boss even if they don't use it as it was intended. Giggle with glee as that skidshart lovingly caresses the asbestos infused grip and fingers the cyanide dipped trigger. But really, there is no satisfaction like watching that whore use The Defender as nature intended. Make sure that you get him good and scared, perhaps with your own weapon, and watch that motherfucker pull the trigger. You know she will, she's upper management. She couldn't tell her rancid valley from her cock chunnel if her life depended on it. And it does.

This cuddly little guy is a member of StabbyMart's specially trained Kitteh Death Squad ($128.92 each). These masters of disguise and subterfuge are trained in the arts martial as well as all other kinds of nefarious shit. The cat lady down the street won't fucking know what hit her when this little ball of cuddly armageddon walks through her door, fucks the alpha cat in the ass and disembowels Mrs. Pusseh with one swipe of it's razor sharp kitty claws. Also for use on those fucking annoying lolcat wusses. Yeah, your cat is cute, try stroking this feline, fuckface. StabbyMart also carries a wide selection of fully trained dogs, bunnies, howler monkeys and manatees for all your animal-lover murderin' needs.

Got a particularly annoying co-worker? Perhaps a employee with a terrible hair style? Just feel like fucking up a lot of people in a short amount of time? Well folks, this regal creature is The Headbadger ($1523.00). Produced by our special supplier jM, she has trained all of our headbadgers with a strict regimen of Hannah Montana's greatest hits, followed by sensory deprivation, inappropriate fondling and Grey's Anatomy marathons. This bad boy will tear off your scalp then make sweet, furry, clawy love  to your grey matter. They do have a tendancy to shred everything and everyone in the room so you should choose an empty, hosable facility or use a room that you don't plan on entering ever again. Works best on large groups of people such as a cubicle farm or on a subway.

WARNING: may become amorous after particularly lengthy bouts of carnage. In this case, just hold on and hope he doesn't perforate your lower intestine.

One of our Chartreuse Light Specials. This twelve pack of Stabbyblades (49.67) is a perfect gift for that husband that won't leave or that wife who won't let you. The closest shave that money can buy and a bargain at any price these cartridgas are so full of horse steroids that they won't know what hit them. Men will have their junk shrivle up to resemble baby Benjamin Button and women will have a schlong so long they may finally be able to do to themselves what you haven't been able to for  years. Also look for our habanero shaving cream in the skin care isle.

StabbyMart Stickynotes ($10.99 pack of 217). Say it like you mean it with these pre-printed stickynotes that come in a variety of colours. A note for every occasion and a saying that the recipient can tell is truly from the heart. Did you just diddle your best friends wife? There's a note for that. Just busted a nut in your best girls hair? There's a note for that. Accidentally stuck your tether-ball pole in the mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving thereby giving grandma a heart attack and your Aunt Gertrude more action than she's seen since Regan was in office? There's four notes for that. Honestly, how have you survived without these your whole life?

Professor StabbyMart's Ass-Blaster Deluxe Colon Cannon (Free with the purchase of Crackbaby Coke Chemistry Set). Have you ever felt not so fresh? Ever had that not so clean feeling? Me neither. But for the dirty, smelly, greasy, flatulent pustule of humanity in the office next to yours this is a god send. Admittedly, this particular device will require some effort on your part. This may stretch both your strength and your stomach to their very limits but the payoff is well worth it. Simply insert the EasyplugTM applicator into the offending persons anus and turn on the water. In a matter of moments you will  be able to observe the belly swelling like a water balloon until "POP!" their head comes right off like that creepy clown sprinkler I had as a kid. All that's left behind is the squeaky clean smell of vinegar and water. Oh, and a body. Please call our world renowned body disposal service for clean up. Only $71.25 per hour.

We hope that you have enjoyed your perusal of our wares and should you wish to order please call 1-888-555 -CUTABITCH.

StabbyMart: Cause we like pictures.

H/T to Danica Dragonfly for the idea.

Saturday, October 24, 2009


As you know, I'm rocking the Cannonball II: Pants Boogaloo starting November 1st and I've decided that I will only read books I've never read before. So far, this is how the list of literary face-sexed awesomeness plays out. Don't hate because I have wicked mad taste in reading materials and tend to stick to the the ass-blasting bodaciousness of Science Fiction and Fantasy. Tremble, bitches!

In no particular order:

1. American Gods - Neil Gaiman (I've never read him with the exception of Good Omens)
2. Prelude to Foundation - Issac Asimov (better known as God)
3. Pride And Prejudice And Zombies - Jane Austen and Seth Grahame-smith
4. The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams (Never read it, am ashamed.)
5. The Restaraunt at the End of The Universe - Douglas Adams
6. Life, the Universe  and Everything - Douglas Adams
7. So Long, and Thanks For all the Fish - Douglas Adams
8. The Law Of Nines -  Terry Goodkind (Truthiness)
9. Boneshaker - Cherie Priest (Steampunk, motherfuckers!)
10.  Neverwhere - Neil Gaiman
11.  Day By Day Armageddon - J.L. Bourne (zombie goodness)
12.  Anansi Boys - Neil Gaiman
13.  John Dies @ The End - David Wong (more undeadiness)
14.  The Ghost King - R.A. Salvetore
15. Foundation's Edge - Issac Asimov
16. Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas - Hunter S. Thompson
17.  The Gargoyle - Andrew Davidson
18. To Your Scattered Bodies Go - Philip Jose Farmer*
19. The Fabulous Riverboat - Philip Jose Farmer*
20. The Dark Design - Philip Jose Farmer*
21. The Magic Labyrinth - Philip Jose Farmer*
22. Gods of Riverworld - Philip Jose Farmer*

*I constantly do this. I'll find a new author I like and devour everything they've written until I'm spent. I did it with Peter F. Hamilton and when I was finished I had to take a month long break.

20. The next George R.R. Martin book in The Song of Ice and Fire.
21. Peter Hamilton's next book.
22. Peter Hamilton's next next book (dude is amazing and pumps out quality like a machine)
23. Rides A Dread Legion - Raymond E. Feist
24. Shutter Island - Dennis Lehane

That's where we're sitting right now. I'm not going to plan the rest of the reading as I'll invariably read one of these authors and end up reading the rest of their books and it's dependant on what the library has available. Also, I'll be picking up suggestions from the blogs and Pajiba's posted reviews. But the real reason I'm not finishing my list is because it'll cause spontaneous orgasm and I'm not going to be responsible for cleaning up that mess.

StabbyMart: Jizzing on your face with booky goodness since 2009.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009


So tonight I have to attend what we term "the annual public meeting". I fucking loathe these grandoise wastes of my time and taxpayer money. Firstly; because nothing every really comes of them, secondly; becuase it gives every asshole an oppourtunity to open their mouths and spew whatever sewage they think is appropriate, and thirdly;  because it gives the elected officials (my bosses) a specific time to kiss ass and make a bunch of commitments that will never-ever be kept. Let me paint you a picture:

These meetings are in the town hall format because, well, this is a town (village, actually). Because of the recent presidential elections and the meeting on Universal Health Care, I'm sure that you are all familiar with this process. As I'm also sure you are aware, these meeting tend to bring out the uninformed assholes and the ignorant as well. You know, those people who have a bone to pick and need an audience to listen to them while they tear and masticate every rancid piece of flesh off of that poor femur. The difference in my situation is that, unlike Healthcare or one of the most historic elections in U.S. history, there is no issue. Seriously, some of the big-ticket items I've had my ass reamed over:
  • We need a cat bylaw because one keeps walking through our yard.
  • My neighbour's dog pissed on the snowman my kids made.
  • I don't like the way my neighbour parks his car.
  • The grader knocked over my mailbox. (which was situated too close to the road).
  • I think the town should let me park my fifth-wheel in the alley (thereby blocking all traffic).
And the piece de resistance:
  • I don't like the way the paperboy delivers my paper.
Now, don't get me wrong, I fully appreciate the need for elected officials to communicate with the public and have the public's concerns heard, but, are you fucking kidding me?! These are those types of pus-filled hemorrhoids that get up all blustery and make an issue out of something that isn't. They stand there shouting about their rights as a taxpayer to have the municipality rectify this grevious affront! They pay there taxes so therefore that gives them cart blanchè to act like an undignified goat spelunker and tell you exactly what your doing wrong and how you will fix it. Never mind that most of these issues could be addressed with just one little phone call.

But you feel the need to wait until you're in a room full of people to tell us about your pressing mailbox issue? Really? The municipality should be ashamed of it's obvious neglect because we don't cut your lawn and we had the audacity to send you a letter asking you to do it? We won't clean your driveway for you even though you have a perfectly functional musculatory system? We won't widen the road and your lane because your bus driver can't execute a three point turn? We refuse to act as a babysitting service because your so overprotective that you won't allow your child to walk 1/2 a block home without you?  Who the fuck do we think we are!? The Sultan of Moose Jaw!? We should be drawn, quartered, halved, then sixteenthed for our obvious distain of your basic human rights. How dare we ask that you actually do something for yourself!

Get fucked, you vomitous lakes of Paris Hilton's douche water! While you're bitching about your driveway, I'm trying to figure out how to get everybody to work. While you're pissy about your mailbox, I'm trying to figure out how to make sure you get emergency services if you need them. While you're bitching about the school bus (wrong office, by the way) I'm fighting to keep your school open. While you're precious baby can't manage walk his ten-year-old ass home, I'm.....well....... it's time to take the titty out the mouth, bitch.

I can understand that most people (and I mean most) can't see the big picture. I appreciate that in this day and age its hip to look out for #1. I am aware that colorectalcraniumism is a disease that rivals HIV in it's infection rate. But for fucking Jesoraptors sake, can we breed a little fucking common sense back into the species? Can we euthanize the fucktarded? Can we pig roast the ignorant with fish hook embedded Louiseville Sluggers? May we skullfuck the stupid with the phallus of intelligence?

Where was I going with this? Oh yeah, I literally have to perform calming exercises during these meetings. I have to say to myself,  "Ok D, deep breaths, count to five, pinch your leg, smack your junk". I'm sure you can relate, one has to be professional. Where I'd like to be "me" I can't. I have my bosses in the room and I have to consider how my behaviour reflects on them. I also have to consider that they are trying to be the biggest ass-suckers they can be and, if I were to tell a ball-gargler that they are a glorious pile of gonnorrhea, it could reflect negatively on The Lords. It's really quite painful to restrain oneself in such ways but, of course,  if they'd call me or come into my office, I'd be able to smack them with my schmack of sassy shrewdness and we could be done with this stupidity. I'd bruise a couple of eyes and bloody a nose or five but it would be problem solved. Alas, they have at me when my hands are tied and my satchels of Earl Grey are secured.


StabbyMart: Where Gin and Rage Mix Perfectly.

Friday, October 16, 2009


So I floated the idea of the kids joining the Cannonball II: How Do You Do bye my wife and the two girls. As suspected, the eldest jumped at the chance and even asked if it was ok if she read more than one book a week. (cue fatherly pride) Of course it's alright to rad more than one. Unfortunately for her father, she's going to make me look bad by finishing the damn contest in twenty weeks or so. She's required to read books that are age appropriate or higher, no comics and has to write ten book reports/reviews. I'll post the odd one up here so you can bask in the cuteness.

The middle daughter was, let us say, less than enthusiastic. Her initial response was disbelief, quickly followed by "I don't think I want to do that". When I asked her why she said it was because she didn't think she could read very well. I assure you this is not the case. I asked her how she thought she would get better if she didn't practise and what she was going to do when she got older and couldn't read very well? Both her mother and I told her that she could read quite well for her age and so she agreed to do it too but we had to do a lot of prodding. She also has to give us an oral report on the book to prove she read it.

I should probably mention something about the bad one. She's smart, stubborn and devious. She knows that if she slacks off, usually somebody will do whatever needs doing for her, usually her sister (Smart!). Once we made her clean up her room, for two days! Finally, Jacq decided she'd had enough and made Baddy sit in the corner for half an hour then sent her back to clean her room. This happened four times until finally Jacq asked her whether she wanted to clean her room or sit in the corner. She chose the corner. When I came home she had been there a couple of hours (Stubborn!).  I knew that this tactic wasn't going to work as I would've done the same thing as Baddy (we are very much alike) so I tried a different tactic. I told her she wasn't eating anything until her room was clean. It was done in half an hour.

Now the deliciously devious part of her personality. My wife and I were sitting in the living room, watching tv while the girls were in the bath tub. All of a sudden we hear this spine-tingling screech from the bathroom liek somebody was strangling an sopprano abino cat. We, of course, figured someone slipped or otherwise got hurt and went rushing in. Baddy was crying and we could see a pretty hard bite mark on her arm. We questioned Goody as to why she would bite her sister to which she responded that she didn't. Of course we don't believe her and continue to press for information. Now Goody is like her mom, a terrible liar, so as she sticks to her story for a good ten minutes we looked into the matter a little further. After rocking some serious CSI shit we concluded that Baddy had, in fact, bitten herself hard enough to leave deep indentations and bruising in order to get her sister into trouble. Did I mention she was two at the time? Yeah, I can't wait until she hits the teenage years.

What was I saying? Oh yeah, both girls are CannonBalling and we've determined what the prize will be. If they both finish the fifty-two books in a year they will each get a $100.00 gift card to McNally Robinson (it's a book store). Goody was extatic, Baddy's reply was "So we win more books if we read all the books? Hmmmmm." So I did capitulate and told her she could buy something else, from the bookstore. HA! Game on, bitches.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009


I've had an epiphany. In the spirit of the Cannonball Read II: EBNWMLCMMIRWD, I'm going to see if my daughters want to join. They're usually pretty stoked about anything Pajiba related (read: fully indoctrinated)so I'm pretty sure they'll be in it to win it. I'm doing this for two reasons:

1. The excess of video games the kids have been playing and the amount of tv watching has started to bother me. (iCarly should be drawn and quartered). So perhaps this is a way to get them away from that.

2. My middle daughter can read fairly well, but generally dismisses anything that requires effort. Perhaps an performance/reward approach would help to motivate her to explore the written word.

I think I may also have my eldest write up a couple of reviews for shits and gigs. I have no doubt that she could read a book a week with little effort. The kid reads at a grade nine/ten level already.

Now, good people, what do I offer as a reward? Besides the Pajiba donation. Hmmm, I suppose I should check with Dustin on that one. Suggestions may be made below. Also, gimme some awesome book suggestions. Now!


It's official! Cannonball Read 2: What ya Gonna Do When Stabbymania Runs Wild on You, kicks off November 1st, 2009. This time, I'm in cause I have a bloggy thing that nobody reads. I have to read fifty-two books in a year and write reviews for all of them. I'm not going to lie, it's going to be a challenge, with the kids and the work and the home improvements that I need to finish before I'm dead. But, I'm sure I'll make it with the help of amphetamines and rectal thermometry.

Check back if you want to read the reviews. I warn you though, I'm not about to pull punches. If I think the book reeks of a three-day-old poopy diaper, I'm going to say it. Mind you, that smell may actually be a three-day-old poopy diaper, but that's not the point. The point is that it's for a good cause and it's a competition wherein I can prove my lack of reading diversity and my weak-ass writing. It doesn't matter, I'm going to win. Why? Because I've got a store with an arsenal. Let the cutting begin, bitches.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009


Disclamer: For you sciencey types, I'm speaking in layman's terms in the following. Don't give me shit for errors or oversimplifications  because I'm not a fucking physicist I'm just trying to be funny. If you don't find it funny then your a bad person that eats puppies and pisses on rainbows and I'll have to shank you in the scapula. Anyways:

Albert Einstein states that the Theory of Relativity is e=mc2 That is to say that energy = mass, multiplied by a constant (the speed of light), then squared. What most people don't realize is that Einstein's theory has so many everyday, real world applications that it is pretty much guaranteed that you will be applying his theory to mundane situations in instances where you generally wouldn't realize it. As a matter of fact, I believe that Einstein is the greatest scientist that ever lived because of the forsight that he had when he developed his theory.

For me, this happened today in three seperate occurances and, honestly when I got home and thought about it, it really blew what little mind I have. You see, I apply Einstein's theory in a slighly different way but in a fashion in which I believe was Einstein's true intent with this masterpiece of physics. To begin with, let's flesh out the variables in the equation.

- e - Which is energy and also translates to "how much work I have to do"

- = - If I have to explain this to you, stop right now, go get a pry bar and gently lever your head out of your rectum.

- m - Mass or the amount of "you" that there phyisically is.

- c - the constant or as Einstein said "the speed of light". I think by light he meant how much light could be on the other side of ones skull when somebody was looking in ones ear.

2 - a factor. In this case one would multiply the constant by itself.

So to summarize: The amount of work I do is equal to you, times your stupidity, squared. See. Genius!

Todays first instance dealt with an individual who owned some land that we built a road adjacent to THREE YEARS AGO! (again with the fucking road building). Due to the way the road was situated, we had to purchase a five meter (fifteen feet, silly Americans) width of land running parallel to the road. It seems simple right? We have it surveyed, pay the man, and register the road widening. Nope. Three years later he decides he has an issue with this. Today he told me that he wants the municipality to hire a surveyor to determine how much land he has. His reasoning? The municipality built this road and took land from him therefore it is the municipality's responsibility to determine how much land he has remaining. My dumbfounded response is simple: "do you know how much land you had when you bought it? Yes? Well the road survey shows that we took 1.23 acres. Therefore you have 157.2 acres left." Now, with any reasonable intelligent human being this would have ended the discussion, but not with Mr. Entitlement. "Well, what if the surveyor is wrong?" "Well" I ask, "what if we survey your property and that survey is wrong?" We go back and forth with this shit for about ten minutes but he won't tell me why he is insisting that the municipality pay thousands of dollars to tell him how much land he's got (of course I already know and it's complicated). Finally, I get fed up: "So, you think that the municipality should pay thousands of dollars of tax payer's money just to tell you how much land you have because we built a road. Even though we've already got a survey which tells us how much land we took and, ergo, how much land you have left?" His answer? "Yes."

It's at this point that I'm using all the energy I have to not beat him like a read-headed step child so all I can say is "No. We won't be doing that."  At which point he gets pouty like I just told him to stop playing with himself and tells me he's going to talk to my boss. By all means motherfucker, because if my bosses back you on this, I'm going to find new ones.

I think that this is a good time to suggest that the "e" in e=mc2 can also include the effort that it takes to refrain myself from saying exactly what is on my mind or to tear you into confetti with my bare hands. That was a good example of fucknuttery (honestly, how would you react if your government told you that they spent $6000.00 to tell some douche what he already knows? Oh, wait...... ) but lets move on to ignorance.

Now this guy is an immigrant. Which is not to say that he's a bad person or any of that shit, only that he knows absolutely fuck all about developing. This guy tried to do a residential subdivision two years ago that was such a gong show that it was finally just refused. Then he turned his land into a used car lot. Did I mention that his license has now been revoked for non-compliance? His latest moneymaking scheme is chickens. Twenty-fucking-thousand of them! Dude walks into my office with a request to start a chicken barn in my municipality. His request is a hand written piece of paper that is comprised of four sentences: I want to start a barn with 20,000 chickens, (over my dead body) I will employ many people, (two or three tops) I will be able to pay more taxes (my favorite argument and false) Please give me permission to do this. (remember, dead body). This is were I proceed to ask him a bunch of questions that anybody who has even the smallest idea about what he's proposing would know. "Where on the property, who will run it, have you inquired about licensing with the Provincial government, you're aware that 75% of your property is underwater, right? And, most importantly, "what are you going to do with the 7,000 POUNDS OF SHIT THAT THAT MANY CHICKENS PRODUCE EVERY DAY!" Fuck!

I  take a half an hour to explain to him the ridiculously complex proceedure you have to go through to start an Intensive Livestock Operation from the plan, all the way to approval. The whole time he smiles and nods and drowns me in a cloud of halitosis all the while I'm thinking "You've got to be fucking with me". Finally the guy takes his forms and leaves.......and is back two days later. His "application" now consists of a five sentences on a piece of paper, a map of his refused subdivision with a square drawn in ink signifying the barn and the business card of the guy who will buy his chickens. He should thank whatever god he prays to that I was off on Friday else he would have been visiting her/him/it personally.

e=mc2 people.

A little stupidity anyone? This is the call I had at the end of the day. In the interest of expediency and the fact that it should explain itself, I present our conversation, verbatim.

Me - Hello municipal office.

Dorksnorkle - If my neighbours tree falls on my house, and he doesn't have insurance, does the village pay     for the damages?

Me - *shocked silence* Excuse me?

Twatwaffle - The guy next door doesn't have insurance, he's a bum. What happens if his tree falls on my house? Doesn't the village insure me?

Me - No. Why would the village insure private property?

Whoreson - Because I live in the village.

Me - The village doesn't own your property. You do.

Taintgobbler - But I don't have insurance!

Me - Well, that's not very intelligent. I would suggest that you may want to rectify that.


Once again, e=mc2

I hope you have enjoyed my interpretation of Einstein's theory. Feel free to share your opinions or your own interpretations. Oh, but if you disagree with me, I'm relatively sure you can go fuck yourself.

StabbyMart: We gettin' physical up in this bitch!

Sunday, October 4, 2009



Have you ever been in a relationship that you knew had run its course and should have ended a long time ago? You know, the one where you're both sitting on the couch, watching TV and you simultaneously look at each other and say "what?" in an unnecessarily acidic way. The one where you sit at the kitchen table during meal times and let the pregnant silence smother you both with her fat (but still sexy) ass. The one where you have sex every Tuesday night because, well, it's Tuesday night and that's what you do on Tuesday night. Pump, pump, clean up. Of course when  you wake up Wednesday morning you're just as unfullfilled, angry and resentful with the relationship as you were prior to the scheduled board meeting you now call sex. I've had two of those relationships in my life and, in my own defence, one of them was actually with a human female. It usually takes a long time to end this type of mutual torture and the means of termination typically involves one person committing an act so heinous that it destroys any trust that may have existed between the parties. For one of my relationships, that act was her cheating on me (bitch). For the other, it was the writing of a book.

The Winds of Dune is written by Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson. It is the third in a series of books which proports to "finish" the original Dune series that was so masterfully composed by the late Frank Herbert. Before I go any further I need to make an admission: I enjoyed, to different levels, Herbert and Anderson's previous efforts which are the series of three prequels and the the three books comprising the Legends series. They didn't approach anything close to Herbert Sr.'s brilliance but they were decent, somewhat entertaining reads. Given the fact that they take place during times that aren't specifically discussed in the original epic, they tend to stand on their own and, in fact, I view them as a totally separate, original works by the two authors. The new series however, where Herbert and Anderson fill in the blanks of the originals, is nothing short of disasterous. By deciding to play mad-libs with Frank's work of staggering genius, they have managed to permanently taint a relationship that spanned hundreds of galaxies and thousands of years. Brian inherited his father's last name, unfortunately he didn't inherit his talent.

The Winds of Dune takes place in the time between Frank Herbert's Dune Messiah and Children of Dune. For those of you that aren't familiar with the Dune series (you should be ashamed) Frank frequetly left gaps in between the books in the series. Sometimes these gaps were a few years, sometimes they were hundreds or thousands of years. Whether Frank intended on returning to the series prior to his death and writing the story of these gaps will remain a subject of some debate as I refuse to believe that he intended for his son to lovingly sodomize these particular holes. Winds deals with one of the smaller gaps wherein Paul Muad'Dib has disappeared into the desert leaving behind his two orphaned children, who are to be his heirs, and his sister Alia who acts as Regent until the children come of age. Instead of taking the logical approach and dealing with trials and tribulations of raising two gifted, orphaned children and running the imperium, Herbert and Anderson inexplicably decide to focus on The Regency and the conflict that Alia is attempting to resolve with Bronso of Ix. As Bronso is the peddler of disinformation about the deification of Muad'Dib, Alia is single minded and cruel in her pursuit of the rebel. But they don't really focus on that either. True, they do one of their patented flashbacks to establish the origin of the conflict and "flesh out" a character that really contibutes very little to the series, but in the end it falls short. Instead they decide to focus on the Duchess Jessica Atredies and her challenges, both past and present, of running her Duchy, the ever changing relationship with her daughter Alia and her efforts to do the right thing regarding her deceased son.

I think part of the beauty of Frank's story was that he left those gaps in his work, only hinted at events that occured and let your imagination fill in the rest. There is none of that in Herbert and Anderson's interpretation. You are not allowed to use your imagination and you are not allowed to question any of the events in the story. There are no hints, there are no surprises, there are no moments when you say to yourself "Oh, so that's why this plot point in Children is the way it is". You are told everything that the authors want you to know and they leave no room for interpretation. Honestly, it's like they're explaining their writing and their story to Hellen Keller while she's got her hands tied behind her back. If you're going to take that approach to storytelling you had better at least make the story compelling and engrossing and trust me, it is neither.In fact these guys weild subtility like your Friday night date waiting for you stark naked in the dinning room while you prepare dessert. You know exactly what he/she (maybe both if you roll that way) wants and there is no mystery as to what the package may contain.

 For example, the introduction to part III of the book states the following: "Two months after the end of Muad'Dib's reign. Regent Alia struggles to cement her control over the Imperium." It is at this point where I decided I had to end it. These guys just don't respect me anymore. Do you really have to explain to me that there would be a power vacuum and the incoming Regent would have difficulty conrolling the government when the god damn Emperor of The Universe dies? Do you really need to describe the possible consequences of every bad decision that Alia makes? Do you have to explain that some people are still upset with Muad'Dib and his Jihad that slaughtered billions of people and might therefore still hold a grudge? Fuck you assholes, I don't need this. I'm going to go find somebody that treats me properly and speaks to me like I am an intelligent and fully capable adult.
I suppose I knew that the relationship was faltering when I read Hunters of Dune. I think I knew I should end it with the publication of Paul of Dune but the Duniverse is just so comfortable and familiar. But then they betrayed my trust with The Winds of Dune. A book that is poorly written, shoddily thought out and executed like a death row inmate with a dry sponge; ugly. This book has no reason to exist and I sincerely hope that Frank Herbert was cremated as I would hate to think that his own son keeps digging up his body to teabag whatever is left of his legacy. This book took me over a month to read which has never happened to me before and it made me feel dirty, self-concious and caused me pain every time I picked it up.  This is the last straw, the ending of a relationship that has spanned two decades, fifteen books and given me an enormous amount of joy. But really , for the last few years, it has caused me nothing but pain and misery and I know now that it's not going to change. Please don't be mad Brian and Kevin; it's not you it's me, I love you but I'm not in love with you and all those other clichès. On second thought, fuck you guys! It is you and I hope I never see you taint ticklers again. I am not going to be your whore anymore! I'm out!
Frank, baby, we'll always have our memories. I only hope you can rest in peace with your son's sack slapping you in the chin.