The 2012 Summer Olympics have been underway for a week now—and I have watched not one minute of them. No one here at Secret Laboratory has reported on them either, which is a painful reminder that our Sports Department is not what it should be.
But so what? You get what you pay for, right?
My own column has been neglected as well—and I’ll get back to that in a moment—but first, I’d like to point out that Michael Phelps is now officially the greatest athlete in Olympic history. I think that we all knew this day was coming, but it’s still somewhat of a thrill to be at home and half drunk when it happens.
Phelps swam the butterfly leg of the men’s 4×100 medley relay for the U.S. team on the final night of the swim meet at the 2012 Olympic Games, the Americans winning in 3:29.35. He now has 22 Olympic medals—18 of them gold. This year alone he has snagged 6 medals—4 gold, 2 silver.
And now he’s retired, at the ripe old age of 27; he will reportedly spend his retirement “defiling virgins” because after all, he’s famous and he’s rich and he has a perfect physique. I’ll drink to that.
And speaking of virgins, the last clear memory that I have of the Summer Olympics occurred in 2004. My friend and I were sitting in my apartment, eating Taco Bell, and admiring the female gymnasts.
I haven’t written anything in a while, but I have a good excuse. I’ve been reading—devouring books at a frantic pace—and studying a new set of social skills. I’ve actually been working on an entire self-improvement regime, which involves concentrating on the only three areas of life that matter: health, wealth, and love. I’m about to undertake a few other endeavors, such as learning magic, psychology, handwriting analysis, sign language, and meditation. I even started a new novel.
As much as I despise my second ex-wife, none of this would have been possible had she not run off to find a whole new stable of suckers to support her shameless, shiftless existence. Still, I’d like nothing more than to read about her wandering into traffic in the morning paper.
Switching gears for a moment, Oklahoma burned down today.
And then there’s the two men in Connecticut who were arrested for filming underneath women’s skirts in grocery stores … which reminds me that Ex-wife #2, while fond of skirts, has never worn a pair of panties in her life. As a general rule, women who have an aversion to underwear do not make good wives.
(As an aside, Kristen Stewart was caught cheating on Robert Pattinson. No surprise there. Whore.)
Where was I? Oh, yes … the voyeurs. According to our sources, police are now trying to track down the victims who appear in the videos. Detective Dan Sorensen of the Hartford Police Department recently found himself knocking on someone’s door; when he was greeted by a beautiful woman, 32-year-old Vanessa Huggins, he held up an iPad and said, “Ma’am, is this your vagina?”
An 84-year-old Texas man plowed through six people in a parking lot, killing a 7-year-old girl; President Obama had a birthday (he’s 51); Marilyn Monroe has been dead for 50 years; and a woman in Minnesota was mauled by an otter. Strange rumblings in the world today.
Yes, perhaps it’s time to get serious for a moment. If you’ve been keeping up with current events—with no thanks to me (unless you follow me on Facebook and/or Twitter)—you’ve probably heard about Dan Cathy, the CEO of Chick-fil-A, who said that he hates fags. In a damning bit of evidence that supports the notion that a great deal of Americans are morons, thousands (as many as 668,000 of them) rushed to his defense.
According to NBC: Despite the sizable grassroots support, Chick-fil-A has faced backlash from other sectors. Lawmakers in Boston, Chicago and Philadelphia voiced objection to the company building new restaurants in their cities, and the toy company run by the estate of Muppet creator Jim Henson said it will no longer make toys for the restaurant’s kids’ meals. (Chick-fil-A has said it decided to stop selling the Henson toys a day prior to that decision.)
Also according to NBC: In contrast the U of M’s Chick-fil-A was buzzing with activity, after a former Arkansas governor and Fox TV personality [Mike Huckabee] declared Aug. 1 to be “Chick-fil-A Appreciation Day” in America. Opponents of gay marriage kept the store hopping for three hours, and the line stretched out of the doors.
On that day some of the Chick-fil-A stores in other states reported running out of food because of the rush from people coming to the defense of Dan Cathy.
“I’m supporting Mr. Cathy and his biblical views,” Judy Watkins told a CNN crew in Smyrna, Georgia. “And it’s not necessarily his views, it’s God’s views.”
Minnesota Congresswoman Michele Bachmann, a Tea Party Republican who ran for the presidency last year, joined the chorus. She sent potential donors a link to a video she posted on YouTube.
“We are here because we are standing with the Cathys, who stand with the family,” Bachmann said to the camera, as she clutched Chick-fil-A to-go bag.
You know what? Gay couples and their children are families too, you fucking dingbat. Oh, and Michele? Your husband is gay.
As for “God’s views,” I suppose it depends on which god you’re talking about—there’s thousands to choose from. I assume that Ms. Watkins is referring to the Christian god, who advocates not only murdering homosexuals, but who also is a big fan of slavery, polygamy, misogyny, infanticide, and about a hundred other things that only cavemen would have come up with. It’s probably no coincidence then that he was invented by those very same Neanderthals.
Here’s a video that sums things up nicely:
Just today I was in the office of the apartment building that I live in; it overlooks the pool. The manager said that he had a problem—apparently two teenaged girls were in the pool and he had seen them “making out” while he was giving a prospective tenant a tour.
“What should I do?” he said. “Should I kick them out?”
I can only imagine that he meant “kick them out of the pool,” as opposed to kicking them out of their apartment(s), which seemed a little severe.
They were still splashing around down there but I hadn’t bothered to look at them.
“Well, shit,” I said, “they weren’t naked were they? They weren’t fingering each other, right?”
“No,” he said. “They were kissing.”
I just looked at him. Frankly, women kissing each other in the pool is a selling point, if you ask me.
“You’re right,” he said. “I’ll just let it go.”
I caught a glimpse of them as I left—two girls, nothing special.
Later, coming home from the liquor store (I’m loaded), I saw them walking hand in hand in the parking lot. They kissed each other. Looking at them, it was obvious that they were in a relationship and not just fooling around for the amusement of others … and I smiled. Here were two girls, obviously in love, sharing an afternoon together. First a swim in the pool and then a walk outside. I was reminded of when I was a teenager and I’d go out with my girlfriend—it didn’t matter where we were, we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other (and our tongues out of each other’s mouths).
So … was I threatened? Offended? Disgusted?
I wasn’t titillated, either; instead, I was reminded of a time in my life when I actually believed that love could exist and that it was a good thing.
And what column would be complete without raking Mitt Romney over the coals? That fucking weasel, while stumping with Richard Mourdock in Indiana, actually had the balls to say this: “There’s only one place in America that doesn’t seem to understand that you can’t keep spending massively more than you take in every year, and that’s Washington. And one reason we’re both going there is to change Washington.”
Well … shucks. We’d be taking in more money if we could only raise revenues—and by that, I mean taxes on the wealthiest Americans. Taxes have been at a historic low for years now, and yet our economy is in the tank and there isn’t any work. If lowering taxes on the so-called “job creators” is the answer … well … then where are the fucking jobs? Here’s a video of two job creators—billionaires—saying that we need to raise taxes on them and everyone in their club:
You see, they might be rich, but at least they’re not clinically-insane hoarders who want to build a mansion out of hundred-dollar bills and then burn it down, just to say that they did (and to collect the inflated insurance claim).
In other news, a Taco Bell employee urinated (maybe) on some nachos and (maybe) served it to unsuspecting customers—and then he Tweeted the photo. Everyone is all worked up about this and it reminds me of Fight Club and the guerrilla food tactics that they employed.
Taco Bell is gross. This makes it only slightly more gross. I’ll still eat there. And frankly, I don’t blame the poor guy, because they should be paying him three times as much as he makes and this is—or should be—a heartfelt protest.
What’s more interesting is that he seems to be freaking out about the fact that he will undoubtedly lose his job (he’s been identified). I would probably get a job at Taco Bell and piss on a customer and think nothing of it; after all, you could sell your plasma and make more money.
It’s late. My son is passed out. I’m alone.
This too shall pass.
Tomorrow I’m going to stay in bed all day and watch movies with my boy. And eat pizza. And acid.
Shut up, Meg.
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 email@example.com.