I HATE DEAF PEOPLE

03/28/2009 08:47pm

“But why?” you may ask. Well, quite simply because if I don’t, WHO WILL???

But SKANLYN, isn’t it wrong to hate someone just because they’re deaf?

Yes, of course it is. That’s not the point. Hatred is a naturally occurring element and we all absorb it in varying quantities. We all belong to one or more subgroups of humanity and, for the most part, there are a number of people dedicated to hating us because of the group(s) to which we belong. Unfortunately some groups bear an unfair share of this burden while others escape virtually scot-free. This has the potential to present a very dangerous situation, the prime example being a place called Germany back in the 1930’s and 1940’s. Thus my point is that we all need to do more hating for the greater good. You see, there is a finite amount of hate in this universe and the greater the range over which we can spread it, the less the burden that any one group will have to bear. I would therefore encourage all of us to seek out previously unhated people and hate them to the best of our ability. I believe that only in this way can we approximate anything close to peace on earth.

And so this brings me to the deaf, whom I shall offensively refer to as “dregs”. In hating any group of peoples, you of course need a pejorative name to call them and I think this one properly conveys the worthlessness that characterizes the average deaf person. If anyone out here has a better term, please do share it with me. Anyway, for far too long these hearing impaired motherfuckers have eluded their share of the hate burden. As a result Rodney King was beaten, Matthew Shepherd was murdered, and the synagogue down the road was vandalized.

I guess I agree with your point SKANLYN and I would like to help you hate deaf people but what reasons should I give as to why dregs are so despicable?

Great question! There are an infinite number of reasons to hate dregs but let me just give you the basics for now (more complete information will be forthcoming):

• Taxes. Special needs education for the deaf in public schools is estimated to cost every tax payer $2,500 annually. On top of that, other publicly funded programs for the hearing impaired add an additional $4,000 to the tab.

• They are lazy and shiftless. Most deaf people refuse to work. They just sit on their asses all day playing scratch tickets, eating Cheetos, and watching Jerry Springer in closed caption mode. Often they get up only to go to the mailbox and retrieve their social security and welfare checks.
  

• They are stupid. The average I.Q. of a dreg is 73, slightly above the level designated for the mentally retarded.

• They talk funny. There’s nothing worse than trying to converse with a lip reading mush mouth.
  

• That annoying shit they do with their hands. I’m sure even non-deaf hating readers will agree that sign language is just plain irritating.

• They are dirty. Ever been to a dreg’s home? Dirty dishes in the sink, roaches crawling out from under the fridge, the stench of cat urine and rotting food, un-flushed toilets, mold every where – just plain nasty! They also tend to bring their filth with them wherever they go. It is not uncommon for a dreg to go a week or more without showering or brushing his/her teeth and they tend to wash the clothes they wear only on rare occasions.
  

• They carry disease. It is estimated that three out of every four deaf adults is infected with at least two sexually transmitted diseases at any given time. Genital warts are most common.

• They are often pedophiles. Studies have shown that deaf men are more than four times more likely to molest children than persons with other disabilities. Most alarming indeed, especially in light of the prior bullet point.
  

• They bring down property values. Picture this, you save your entire life for your dream house. You finally realize this ambition then a fucking dreg moves next door and your neighborhood is soon degraded by a tacky yellow sign reading “DEAF PERSON AREA”. Gets your blood boiling just thinking about it, doesn’t it?

• They caused the housing crisis which nearly collapsed our entire financial system. The filthy liberalsinCongress had incented banks to loan hundreds of billions of dollars to deaf persons who had no means to pay their mortgage. Did no one realize that the tacky yellow signs noted above would make the property virtually worthless when the banks eventually foreclosed?
  

• They killed our Lord. Historical records show that one of the Roman soldiers who nailed Jesus to the cross was in fact deaf as were several of the people in crowd who demanded that he be crucified in lieu of Barabbas.

Wow! Those sure are some good reasons to hate deaf people. How will you get the word out about this stuff given the liberal bias of the mainstream media?

My first course of action will be to organize a street team. I have printed 20,000 “FUCK THE DEAF” bumper stickers which we will distribute outside sporting arenas and other large public venues along with a plethora of anti-deaf literature which I am putting together at present (if you would like to obtain these materials to distribute in your home town, I would be happy to mail you a supply). Additionally, I plan to use children as a valuable resource in this effort. Schools allot a certain amount of time each year for assemblies and I shall see what I can do in my district to get in and talk to the kids about why they should hate their deaf classmates. Of course bullying a dreg can be most difficult as name calling and other verbal abuse is pretty futile. Generally you need to get physical – shove them, punch them, kick them, throw rocks at them, creep up behind them wearing a scary mask, etc. Spitting might also be a good option. Kids are creative though and I’m sure they’ll find the appropriate means. My job is pretty much to tell them what. It is up to them to determine how. In addition to school children, I also hope to work with police officers as they are in an ideal position to harass and intimidate. Inquiries from law enforcement will be welcomed and kept strictly confidential.

While I believe this grass roots effort will be most useful in getting out the message that deaf people suck, I fully admit that it is going to take much time and effort. I am committed nonetheless. My ultimate goal is the election of anti-dreg candidates  eventually leading to the passage of discriminatory legislation and culminating in the criminalization of sign language and a constitutional amendment which declares the deaf to be 4/5 of a person (this makes sense since they lack 1/5 of their senses). Yeah, there’s a long road ahead but I have the audacity of hope.

In closing, if there are any parents of deaf children out there who have been offended by this blog, I would just like to say fuck you but more importantly, fuck your dreg child.

That is all.       

                                                                                                You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

Casey Anthony is Hot ! ! !

So maybe she wasn’t the best mom but hell, when you look like that you don’t have to be!

Don’t let that mean ‘ol Nancy Grace get you down babydoll! She’s a hater, jealous of your youth and beauty. If her dead boyfriend could speak from the grave, I bet he’d thank the guy who killed him so he didn’t end up married to that bitter old hag whose momma obviously conceived her through relations with a pig.

   

This cruel world may take your freedom but you'll always have my heart. They can't take that away - it's yours to keep, always and forever.

  

I pray to someday live in a world where people are judged for their physical attractiveness, not for the children they've murdered. Until then, peace out my love. Peace out.

My Favorite  Episode of The Brady Bunch

03/22/2009 06:54am

No, no it’s not the one with Davy Jones (although that is a good one indeed). Nor is it that three-parter where they go to Hawaii and Bobby finds the taboo tiki idol that brings everyone bad luck. No, I’m talking about the one entitled “The Sharif Don’t Like It”, which was the very last episode to feature Cousin Oliver. It all begins on a late afternoon in May, only a few days after Mother’s Day – Oliver’s favorite holiday, even though his Mom is far away in the jungles of South America accompanying his dad on an alleged “engineering assignment”. It is on this day that Sears begins its annual women’s hosiery sale. Oliver, sick little fuck that he is, had snatched the sales circular from the Sunday paper and hid it under his mattress. A few days later when he is alone, believing everyone is far, far away, he retrieves it and begins gazing at the pages of lower female extremities encased in sheer nylon and silk, wondering how such material would feel against his meager genitals. What a freak! Completing dismissing the teachings of Mohammed in favor of short-lived sinful delights, he unfastens his trousers and proceeds to fondle himself. He closes his eyes and moans quietly to himself as he is overcome by the evil sensations of self abuse. Suddenly, the door opens and little Cindy Brady’s innocence is shattered in an instant, though she does not yet know it. She giggles as the perverted little bastard screams “Go away! Get out of here! Now!” His face is red in shame (as it should be). Shortly thereafter, the youngest Brady finds herself chatting with her elder sisters. “Jan! Jan! Marcia! Marcia!” she cries,“You’ll never guess what I saw Cousin Oliver doing!”

At first, her sisters rebuke her for entering Oliver’s room without knocking. When they learn of what she saw, however, their attitude changes. Giggling through her lispy account of how she caught Oliver “rubbing his little pee pee”, her demeanor becomes much more solemn as she sees the serious looks that fall upon Jan’s and Marcia’s faces.

“You’ve got to tell mom and dad about this,” declares Jan.

“Why?” Cindy asks, “It was funny.  Is Oliver gonna be in trouble or something?” This launches Marcia into a discussion of Islamic Law. “Salami Law?” Cindy asks ever-so-innocently.

“No, silly Islamic Law,” says Jan.

“Oh, you mean the Qu’ran.”

“Yes Cindy,” Marica tells her. “Mohammed told us that what Oliver was doing is a bad bad thing and he needs to be punished under the shariah.”

Cindy is bewildered by this and is apparently oblivious to the graveness of her cousin’s sin. Jan and Marcia, however, are quite adamant that she elevate this to their parents. Of course, while they appear to be good Muslims on the surface, one cannot help but think that Cindy’s sisters may not totally be driven by their love of Allah. Perhaps there is also a certain amount of jealousy over their inability to enjoy the same hedonistic pleasures as Oliver. Such sin is, of course, no longer an option since undergoing the female circumcision rituals to which all Brady girls are subject on their tenth birthday (young Cindy has yet to experience the sacramental amputation of the clitoris and sewing of the labia, though Mike and Carol have recently talked to Sam the Butcher about catering the post clitoridectomy and infibulation reception when the time comes).

Soon after informing their parents, the Brady Family Tribunal convenes and Oliver is sentenced to death by stoning. As Mohammed prescribes, the stones shall not be so big that they expire the condemned immediately yet not so small that they fail to cause the necessary suffering before his death. On the big day, Oliver is wrapped in his death shroud and buried to his waist in the backyard. Each family member (as well as Alice) takes their turn hurling stones at him. When it is Cindy’s turn, however, she drops her stone and runs into the house crying. Her stepfather follows. On her bed, face pressed into her pillow, she sobs. “Now Cindy,” Mike Brady tells her, “I know that this is not easy for you but you’re a young lady now. You need to grow up and be a good Muslim.”

“But I don’t want Oliver to die,” she says.

“I know you don’t honey but this is something you need to do. It is Allah’s will” He then begins reading a verse from the Qu’ran to her. Slowly but surely, she comes to realize the terrible thing that Oliver has done and how it is evil ones like him that anger Allah and they are the reason her people have been unable to drive the imperial Zionists from the occupied territories. She rises from the bed and with a look confidence and purpose goes back to the stoning.

When she returns, Oliver’s face and hair are pretty bloodied. One of the lenses of his glasses is shattered and has lacerated his eye. Squinting through the other eye, a look of sheer terror comes over him when he sees Cindy pick up the stone. He screams in terror. With the wrath of Allah in her eyes, she launches the stone. Then there is silence and Oliver is still. Greg goes over to investigate. After checking the pulse in his neck he looks up and says “Heeeee’s dead!” The family then erupts into screams of delight. “We did it, we did it!” someone says as they jump for joy knowing that Allah’s will has been faithfully served this day. As the episode concludes, there’s a potato sack race (Peter wins) and a pie eating contest (Jan and Bobby tie) then the kids don their Silver Platters costumes for a spirited rendition of “Keep On, Keep On Dancing All Through the Night” before the scene dissolves to the familiar grid.

Not sure why but it seems they haven’t rerun this episode in years. It’s a shame. Not only was it entertaining but it also provided an important moral lesson to the kids watching. Perhaps the producers of “Two and a Half Men” might take note.

To the Tic Tock You Don’t Stop  .  .  .

Man, Color Me Badd be some bad mother fuckers!  The coolest rock n’ roll band eva! They got the style and shit and they the got the moves and shit and they got the attitude and shit! No wonder they get all the bitches and shit! My boi be tellin’ me the other day “man, them guyz be fagz” so I punched him right the fuck out then sodomized his ass to show him who the real fag was. He said, “yeah it’s you mother fucker” then I all had to explain it to him and shit, you know like my momma always said –  “rape ain’t about the sex, it’s about the violence man”. Or was that “don’t play ball in the house”? Oh well – tomato, tomahto.

Who Are You and Why Are You Telling Me This ? ? ?

I would not be so pretentious as to call myself a prophet but it is important for people to know what I think ‘cause I’ve got some important stuff floating around inside this ol’ mushroom cap of mine. The world just ain’t right and I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s all due to a lack of influence on my part. If y’all only knew how it should be then certainly it would. In the meantime, the global financial markets are in collapse while our President is on Jay Leno making fun of retards, the Ruskies are trying to re-rod the Iron Curtain as North Korea and Iran attempt to go nuclear, and yet another year has passed us by without any new music from those Jamaican Kids who sang “Pass the Dutchie on the Left Hand Side”.  And, on top of all that, we now all have to live in a world without Natasha Richardson – courtesy of the Canadian health care system, of which I’m sure her commie pinko mother Vanessa Redgrave was a proponent. “Take two aspirin and call me in the morning, eh. Oh wait, you can’t cuz now you ain't got no more brains, eh.”  As they say, you get what you pay for and in Natasha’s case, that was a skull full of runny Jell-o (my favorite flavor – cherry red!).

So anyway, what’s a Yankee boy like me to do when he’s living down here in Dixie amongst people who just don’t get it? Quite funny you should ask. The other morning when I was shaving, I had a conversation with Abraham Lincoln’s doppelganger who happened to be hanging out in my mirror. He said “yo bitch, you guts ta go to the Xanga.” I was surprised by his lack of eloquence. “What’s you expectin’ bitch? The Gettysburg fucking address.” No Mr. President, just a little bit of class. Just a little bit Anyway, he then gave me some shit about a couple of Sons of Confederate Veterans barbecues I attended while living in Richmond. I told him I didn’t support the Confederacy or nothing, I just really liked their sauce. Then he said something about a house divided against itself and lost me. And so here I am.

More to come  .  .  .  .

A Couple of Real Assholes