I quit Netflix yesterday, having realized that I was spending an extraordinary amount of time watching nothing useful at all. I mean, complete shit. I’m not even sure how many prison shows I’ve seen, or documentaries on gangs like the Bloods and the Crips. For hours, I’d sit here like a slack-jawed idiot, learning the intricacies of gang culture.
Fuck gangs. I’ve never understood why a bunch of people who all dress the same, listen to the same music, and like the same things (whether it be motorcycles or bitches and blunts), don’t just hang out and form one giant group. Wouldn’t it be more profitable? They’re like a bunch of fucking kids playing Cowboys & Indians, because playing just Cowboys isn’t any fun. What good is being in a gang if you don’t have anyone to shoot at?
What? Jesus God. Another lead—completely blown. Perhaps it’s because there really isn’t much happening in the news today. After all, yesterday was Friday, the sun was out, and I think everyone just kind of took the day off and started their weekend early. Lord knows I couldn’t wait to get home and start drinking.
I did a little more research on that whole “Miami Zombie” story. It turns out that the assailant was naked at the time of the attack, which jibes with my theory that he was high on PCP. Some folks have mentioned bath salts (mephedrone), but I’m sticking with PCP. And just for the natural old randy hell of it, I’m going to include a couple of rather graphic photos of the aftermath of the attack in this column. As far as the mephedrone goes, I’m going to order some from Vietnam and I’ll report on its effects at a later date … and if I don’t, just check the headlines for my name.
We haven’t heard anything from Donald Trump lately—and while I’m hesitant to even mention the dumb bastard for fear of lending him some sort of credibility, I simply can’t resist. The overblown businessman has been making a mockery of our political process since last year, and he isn’t about to stop anytime soon. He’s been tagging along with Mitt Romney and tooting his own horn; he claims that he’s drummed up so much positive press for the candidate that it has caused his poll numbers to rise “very substantially.”
Huh. Speaking at the North Carolina GOP Convention, Trump spent most of the time questioning where President Obama was born—an issue that was never an issue at all. Not satisfied with birth certificates—or the fact that the man is the goddamned president—Trump is now calling for Obama to release his college records. “There is one line called place of birth, I’d like to see what he said. Perhaps it’s going to say Hawaii, perhaps it’s going to say Kenya.”
And perhaps, Mr. Trump, you’re a fucking clown who should keep it up because like Sarah Palin four years ago, you’re going to cost the Republicans the election.
And speaking of the election, Republicans—the ones who matter, anyway—have been quietly shifting their bigoted, backwards, bullshit rhetoric on social issues to the back burner; instead, they’ve been stepping up their game when it comes to the economy and jobs—the only two things that most people give a shit about these days. Still, it isn’t helping since their solution is to cut taxes for the rich, de-regulate everything, and shift the burden further onto the backs of the poor and middle class.
In local news, Target is selling T-shirts to raise money for a group that is working to defeat a proposed ban on same-sex marriage here in Minnesota. The fate of the amendment to the state’s constitution will be decided by voters in November.
“Target is attacking traditional marriage, which is an incredibly misguided thing for them to have done,” said Chuck Darrell, spokesman for Minnesota for Marriage, a group campaigning to pass the constitutional marriage amendment. “It’s an insult to the overwhelming majority of their customers.”
Target doesn’t see it that way. “Target is pleased to be able to bring our guests products they want while, in turn, helping support the LGBT community through the donation of 100 percent of the purchase price to the Family Equality Council,” the company said in a statement noting its long-standing support of the gay community.
And you know what? Narrow-minded little weasels like Chuck Darrell ought to mind their own fucking business and go fly a kite if they don’t want to see homosexuals enjoy the same rights as they do. Let gays get married already—they deserve to be miserable like the rest of us.
Finally, in financial news, the stock market crashed yesterday. Big surprise.
Welcome to the weekend.
Here’s your wisdom:
John T. Schmitz is the editor & publisher of Secret Laboratory; he is the founder of Maple Hills Press and has also freelanced as a writer and photographer, contributing to various local and international publications. Mr. Schmitz lives in Minnesota with his wife, Megan, and their two children; he is the author of five books.
Email Mr. Schmitz at firstname.lastname@example.org.