Asmodeus' Astounding Circus (The Final Chapter)

Ah yes, long time, no see, everyone.  But I'm here now, for the moment, to delight and enthrall you all with the long overdue ending to a short series about a circus.  If you haven't read any of the installments or even if you need to re-read these fine, literary masterpieces once again to jog your memory on the storyline and characters...  Here are the following links to help you out in making even the slightest sense of past and present events and be entertained as all get out.  Woo hoo!

Auditions For The Circus

Second Round of Auditions For The Circus

Ringmaster Gregario excitedly went up to the circus ticket booth and asked, "So how many tickets have we sold for the big show?"

There was a line of adults and kids, eagerly waiting to step inside the big circus tent and be seated.

Trixie, who had before been a bubbly, beautiful blonde college girl went through a transformation, of sorts, after the circus owner, Asmodeus, escorted her away after her audition, many months ago and took the twenty something year old back to his own private mansion.

Being a demon (a fairly horny one, at that), Asmodeus had mesmerized Trixie with his charm and evil influence to seduce the giddy blonde.  Soon, Trixie found herself taking off her clothes, revealing her perky breasts and shaven pussy.  The demon circus owner took Trixie by the hand and easily grabbed her with one  powerful arm and tossed her on the bed.  For three nights straight, they fucked without a break.  The experiences Trixie endured caused her to almost lose her mind, completely.

Answering Gregario's question, Trixie slowly looked up from where she sat and said, with slow deliberation and with menace in her tone, "The fuckers just keep coming to see the show."

Trixie giggled slightly, seeming to change in her mood, grabbing a big wad of cash and sales receipts from her cash drawer and thrust it up towards the ringmaster's face.

"See?" Trixie asked.

Gregario nodded approvingly at what he saw before Trixie. Without warning, Trixie viciously grabbed Asmodeus' most trusted assistant by the crotch of his black pants with her free hand.

"AHHH!" screamed Gregario, quickly backing away from the ticket booth and Trixie's grasp.

Several customers looked where the scream had come from.  This got the attention of a pack of red eyed wolves.  Asmodeus' personal pets looked up from the half eaten human skull they had been gnawing on and growled toward the attendees.  Gonza, the large muscle-bound Head of Security came out of the side of the tent and confronted the customers.

"We have a problem here?" asked Gonza, threateningly.

The customers shook their heads, showing they had no problems, but were still very obviously shaking with fear.

An hour later, everyone was allowed to go into Asmodeus' Astounding Circus and take their seats.

A troupe of clown midgets entered from a hidden side room, in a multi-colored vehicle, with a pentagram sign on every side of the car.  The car stopped in the center of the stage.  One of the car doors opened.  Soon, The infamous Blutarsky Brothers came tumbling out.  All of them had bulbous heads, had extreme toe fungus and were mentally impaired.  The crowd let out various sounds of surprise.

Ringmaster Gregario walked up to the center stage, in front of the family of disheveled clown midgets and cried out, into his microphone, "Ladies, gentleman and children of all ages, it gives me a special kind of thrill to present to you the most amazing acts you'll ever witness in your lifetimes!"

Gregario waved his hand and pointed to the clown midgets that had painted faces.  Some of them were crossing their eyes and shaking their heads.  One had a permanent smile on his face.  Luscious, the member of the group who had undergone a botched sex change surgery, courtesy of one of "her" brothers and his handy knife, in order to become a man, stepped out in front of his brothers.  Luscious had tiny breasts, thanks to hormone therapy and a couple of sewn upon hairless gopher butt cheeks, but the vagina of the clown midget was far from perfect.

Tension and anticipation filled the air.

Isa, the eldest member joined her son, Luscious, who was dressed in a small, sparkly pink tutu.

The old ringmaster handed Isa, the mother of the 7 performing midgets, the microphone.

Isa announced, "My name is Isa, mother of my Russian babies, the ones you may know as The Blutarsky Brothers.  Tonight, we will show you our talents and you will soon gaze upon us with wonder.  Watch and fill your ugly American hearts with joy!"

With that said, Gonza brought in a handcuffed and shackled blubbery man in a size XXXL sweatsuit.  He was sweating, profusely, and had a collection of bruises upon his face.  Gonza thrust the obese man on his hands and knees.

Ringmaster Gregorio took a flask of whiskey from his back pocket, downed a swig from it and put it back in his pocket before explaining into his microphone, "This man was found to be attempting to sneak into the circus tent without paying."

Gregorio tipped his big black top hat toward the man as the man groaned in pain.

Continuing, Gregorio said, "This man will be given something special for his efforts."

The fat guy whimpered as Isa and Luscious took their places.  Both clown midgets lay on their backs on either side of the trapped man who Gonza securely chained to a metal platform.  Luscious spread open her legs and pulled the bottom of her tutu off, slinging part of the costume to the side.  She had a tattoo of a snake on her cunt lip.  Isa took off her polka-dotted, over-sized clown pants and spread her legs, in unison, with her son.  A few moments passed before Isa's legs rubbed furiously together, creating sparks of fire.  Luscious mimicked her mother's furious leg movements. Meanwhile, a fast moving stream of fire, much like a flamethrower, came shooting out of their cunts as their tiny legs furiously kicked up and down.

In awe, the crowd was spellbound and became perfectly silent as the gluttonous man's head began to catch afire.  He screamed in agony.  Gregorio, Gonza and the rest of the clown midgets laughed, heartily.  In only a few seconds, the man was totally engulfed in flames, shouting for mercy and receiving none.  Soon, his crispy corpse smoldered for a moment before crumpling into a stinking heap of ashen flesh.

Gonza and Gregorio shoveled the victims smoking remains in a nearby metal garbage vat.  What wasn't completely crispy would be fed to the hungry wolves, later.

Nervously, the crowd applauded, fearing what might happen if they did not show satisfaction of the clown midgets' amazing tricks.  One man, however, showed no fear and announced his displeasure.

The man, famous for his many quirky and comedic movie roles, stood up and said, "I don't think that was right."

Gregorio put down his shovel and picked up his microphone. Into his mike, Gregorio inquired, "And who might you be to think yourself capable of judging what's fair and what's not?"

The film actor stated, "Steve Buscemi, that's who."

Gonza quickly retrieved him from the stands.  Buscemi struggled, frantically, and groaned in protest, desperately trying to free himself of Gonza's mighty grip.

Buscemi was chained to the metal platform, begging to be released, promising to give them substantial amounts of money if they let him go.

A clown midget named Jeepo appeared, did a cartwheel in front of the actor and completed an admirable back-flip, flapping his arms like a bird, before coming down head first onto the metal platform and bashing his head in, making a clanging, crunching noise that could be heard from the stands.  A pool of blood gathered on the platform as Jeepo moaned.  One of his clown midget brothers, Trotsky, came out, pulled down his pants and scratched his taint before dragging his injured brother off the stage.

Ivan, another clown midget performer, came running out.  Stretching his arms outward, Ivan stood still and shouted, "Ta-Da!"

Ivan turned around and looked at the chained actor in the middle of the stage.  The clown midget slapped his face, for comic relief and made a tiny "O" with his mouth to appear as if he was surprised at the actor's predicament.

Without hesitation, Ivan pulled his gigantic pecker from his neon green clown pants and pointed it toward Buscemi.

Ringmaster Gregorio asked the audience, "So do ya think Steve is going to have to do some suckin'?"

The audience collectively gasped.  Buscemi's eyes grew wider than they ever had gotten during the filming of his past movies.

Abruptly, Ivan took a firm hold of his meat sword and quickly shot bullets from his pee hole.  Each bullet went through Steve Buscemi's head as if it were made of facial tissue.  Blood and fleshy bits flew everywhere.  In a matter of seconds, there was nothing sitting on the actor's shoulders but a deformed pulp of bloody mush and some bits of skull mixed in.

The wolves rushed in, eyes red and glowing, and ate most of the actor's body, tearing his corpse apart.

Trotsky and another brother, Dragoff, came running out with their tarp.  Some audience members chuckled at the sight of their little legs moving so quickly.  Both brothers threw the tarp on Buscemi's disgusting remains and ran back where they came from, doing the occasional cartwheel, along the way.  Everyone applauded their comical antics.  Trotsky raised his leg and cut a fart so loud and with such force, the back of his  little clown pants exploded.

Unable to resist the current spotlight, Dragoff came back to the center stage and stuck the wooden handle of a bloody shovel up his rectum and balanced himself on it, straight up from the surface.  The sharpened tip of the shovel was embedded into the ground, several inches deep.

Ivan ran out and blared toward the crowd, "Ta-da!" After saying this, the clown midget promptly pissed his pants.

At that point, though, Dragoff sunk downward upon the shovel handle and found himself impaled upon it. Waving his arms like a pinwheel, his arms seemed like they blurred, in motion, to the audience.  Suddenly, Dragoff's colon was busted open by the wooden handle.  It didn't help that Ivan took the opportunity to jump on his back, hoping to share the spotlight.  A moment went by before the handle went all the way through Dragoff's small body and exited out of his mouth before plunging through Ivan's right eye socket.  Both circus performers screamed and tumbled, smashing forward into the hard, unforgiving ground.

Teeth, blood, bits of exploded colon and gore spilled forth in rivers from where they lay, motionless.

A teenager cheered and texted to her friend the act she had just witnessed.  She texted:

OMG!  I JUST SAW TWO CLOWN MIDGETS DIE BEFORE MY EYES.  THEY WERE HILARIOUS!

One audience member clutched his chest, unsure how much more he could take.  His wife, sitting next to him, patted her husband on the back and said, reassuringly, "It's going to be okay, honey.  These people are really multi-talented."

Asmodeus, demon in disguise and the owner of the circus joined Trixie, arm in arm.  Both of them had just made an entrance and took center stage.  Asmodeus noticed the man who was clutching his heart and politely asked, shouting toward him, "Do you feel a pain in your chest, sir?"

The man shook a bit, sweating and then said, "I'll be... fine."

With that, Trixie pulled her arm slowly away from Asmodeus' arm.  Like a frightening wraith, the once pretty, buxom blonde traveled up the bleachers and stood in front of the man who believed that he was about to have a heart attack.

Trixie curled her finger, slowly and beguilingly,until the man felt he should move his face closer to the pale woman's figure.  She was whispering something under her breath.  The man's wife said, "Go ahead, Sweety Pie," she coaxed, "The lady wants to probably show you a neat trick."

The man shuddered and nervously asked, "Are you a magician?"


Trixie lunged forward and stuck her forked tongue deep into the man's mouth, giving him a french kiss from hell.  Despite his extreme fear, the man achieved a sizable erection.  Trixie's long, snake-like tongue roamed around the inside of the man's trembling mouth.

Asmodeus suddenly ran up to the man, the wife and Trixie and then declared, "You're openly flirting with my woman!  How dare thee!"

Horns sprouted from Asmodeus' head and he quickly transformed into his real identity. The frightening form of a demon stood before the aroused husband.  Asmodeus' eyes glowed, red and fiery.  The demon circus owner clutched the man's neck and thrust upward, popping the victim's head off from his body like the cork of a champaign bottle.

The head bounced from one bleacher seat onto the next until it finally plopped in a young woman's nachos and cheese.  She was sitting in the front row, way down below.  Nachos and cheese flew everywhere.  Melted cheese and human blood splattered against her shirt.  Instead of wondering about or doing anything about the mess or the decapitated head, she immediately took an electronic device from her handbag and texted her friend about how a human head landed, suddenly, in her nachos and cheese and how hard it would be to get the stains out of her shirt.

Meanwhile, Asmodeus was still enraged about Trixie's transgression against him.  Instead of taking his anger out on her, however, he killed the man who had recently had a forked tongue dive into his mouth.   Asmodeus' big red arms steamed.  The arms of the demon rose above his head and the sides of the tent began to catch on fire.  Everyone screamed, panicked and attempted to escape.

Suddenly the wolves with red glowing eyes and bared fangs came pouring into the tent again and began dispatching each circus attendee, who made it to the floor, with joyful and hungry abandon.  Flesh, tattered clothes, phone gadgets, and lakes of blood could be found everywhere inside the tent.

Very few people got out alive that day and Asmodeus' Astounding Circus closed down for several months, disappearing without a trace, until it suddenly sprung up again in jolly old England.

Needless to say, the circus proved to be more popular than the Queen's Diamond Jubilee and the Summer Olympics being held in London, combined.

Asmodeus and Trixie are married now in unholy matrimony.  And Trixie is constantly having to remind Asmodeus, every night, to take out the garbage.  Gosh!

But that's another story.  

I Found A Pubic Hair In My Shrimp

A couple weeks ago, my wifey and I went to our favorite Chinese restaurant/buffet and pigged out. We love almost all the food on their big buffet and look forward to hitting it up every so often. The food there is very tasty and they have a wide variety of seafood on the bar- always a plus with me, since I can never get enough crab legs and shrimp.

But, as things always seem to go, when you like something for a long time, something will happen that will eventually put a damper on it. In the case of eating at one of your favorite restaurants, that something could be bad service, cold food or being placed next to a table full of screeching monkey children that won't stop screaming like banshees.

That last one I mentioned is practically a deal breaker for me since I have a very low threshold for loud, needless noise and suffer from anxiety. The parents who allow this type of unacceptable behavior to go on and on without taking Junior or Juniorette out of the place so the patrons can have a nice, quiet meal that they're paying for, are the ones who need to be taken out to the woodshed and given a couple good whacks with a sledgehammer and a poke with an electric cattle prod, for good measure. The parents could, at least, put a sound-proof muzzle on that adorable, shrieking child-thing of theirs. I won't call it child abuse or call the authorities on you if you do it. If fact, I'll slip you a few bucks to go to the nearest pet store so you can pick one up. Who says I'm not a giver?

Bad service, if it is kept to a minimum, is something I can handle if it only happened once or twice during the dozens of times I've gone to a certain eatery. Cold food- the same way.

But this time something different happened. This time, I went to the buffet bar and brought back a plate of breaded shrimp and boy, did they look good- until I happened to notice a long black pube sticking out of the tail end of one of the shrimp. The slightly kinked hair was about 2 or 3 inches in length and it was in there, stuck very securely. I tried pulling it out, using a napkin and the damn thing wouldn't come out. Now, I know it wasn't mine. I have brown hair. And I know it wasn't another customer's. Who would, after all, take the time and trouble of plucking a single hair off their head and pushing it deep in between the shell end of the shrimp and the meat of it and then putting back into the tray with the rest of the shrimp?

Especially, when they would be easily caught by every other patron, scrambling around, dishing up food on their plates?

No, that mission would be too tough to accomplish.

Look closely at the pictures of the shrimp and questionable hair, click to zoom in and speculate amongst yourselves. This is a real detective's case here, I tell you. One for the books. I ended up wrapping the shrimp up in a napkin, took it home with me and photographed the evidence. I had to throw it away, not long afterwards, because the cat was trying to get at it to eat it and I didn't want him to gag and choke to death on the pubic hair. How would I explain that to the vet?

After all, I didn't want the vet to think I was forcing my schlong down into my cat's mouth and a pube came off and somehow lodged itself in his throat. You have to worry about things like that, you know.

I say the hair/culprit came from the kitchen where the Chinese cooks were cooking the food. I don't know for sure it was stuck firmly in the shrimp, intentionally and I'm not sure if it was a pubic hair, either. When I showed it to my wife, she gasped and then asked, "What is that?"

I said, "I think it's a pubic hair."

She replied, "Well that's gross, no matter which part of someone's body it came from."

I agreed.

Then we both laughed. Wifey asked if I was going to show it to the manager and I replied that I thought it wasn't worth it. The manager would probably think I put it there and the whole thing was too embarrassing to bring up. I'm sure it was an accident. I wasn't looking for a free meal on behalf of the manager or any other compensation that the manager might have given us. Being that this was the first time something like this had ever happened there, I let the matter drop.

Besides, it's not like I actually put the shrimp in my mouth. If I had, and discovered it rubbing against my tongue, I would have been incredibly pissed and went on a mad killing spree back in the kitchen. I would have bounded through the kitchen doors, unannounced. Throats would have been slit with sharp, handy knives. Screams would be heard throughout the dining area. And everybody would be sad. Except me. I would likely just be exhausted from all that hard work and need to drink some of that delicious green tea they have there to quench my thirst.

Perhaps it was an accident. Or perhaps, in a stretch of the imagination, a cook was mad at all of us American heifers, waddling our fat asses in the place and scarfing down rice rolls, dumplings, crab legs, Orange chicken and pubic hair shrimp.

Who knows? It gave me a topic to post about, anyway. That's the important thing.

Disturbing Trend of Small Town Crimes By Cops and Crazies

The folks in my surrounding area are getting a little too crazy... even for me. I think I liked it better when they were all just a bunch of boring, redneck hillbillies that just sat around drinking beer and renting DVDs for their weekend's entertainment. There was a time when our neighboring big city of Cincinnati was getting all the bad press and media attention for gang related murders and widespread police brutality toward innocent and elderly people. You know... The easier targets.

Now the small town area I live in is getting that kind of attention this year. Some of the news is even garnering national media attention.

Explanation

In the town of Rising Sun, Indiana, a couple rinky dink towns away from me, a boy by the name of Andrew Conley, 18 years old, decided to strangle his 10 year old brother to death because he wanted to be like the main character in the TV show, Dexter. Dexter is a serial killer in the show and apparently, Andrew was a big fan. The news of the murder made headlines across the U.S. and everyone expressed disbelief it had happened in such a small town.

At the time of the murder, Andrew was 17.

Andrew confessed to the murder, while in court, very calmly and gave intricate details to the judge and the courtroom audience of how it all went down.

Andrew explained that he choked his younger brother while they were playing around and wrestling on the ground until the boy passed out. He said he then dragged his brother into the kitchen, put on gloves and continued strangling him for at least 20 minutes. Andrew then confided that he put the boy's head into two plastic bags.

A coroner testified that Andrew's brother, Conner, may have still been alive for minutes or hours after that point, but the bags helped suffocate him and Conley repeatedly banged the boy's head on the ground before loading him in the trunk of his car to make sure he was dead.

Conley told psychologists he had been unable to stop and felt as if he were watching the murder outside himself. But the judge said that despite contradictory statements by Conley, experts agreed that he still knew what he was doing was wrong.

The judge discounted Conley's claims of remorse as "superficial and not sincere," saying he could have expressed remorse when he drove to give his girlfriend a promise ring with his brother's body in the trunk of his car but didn't.

The judge also noted that instead of telling his father what he had done the following morning, he asked for condoms and joked with his mother and watched football all day. Conley also calmly remarked that he had calmly stood over his sleeping father with a knife and considered cutting his throat.

Conley, now 18, was sentenced a month ago to life in prison without parole. The prosecutor said he couldn't get the death penalty because he was only 17 when the murder occurred.

A Couple of Florence Nightingales

Then we have two cases of two head nurses in two different nursing homes that were arrested for selling drugs; pain medication, to be exact, that was meant to be administered to two elderly women who were both suffering from terminal illnesses. One elderly lady was on morphine for her horrendous pain. The other, on a high dosage of Vicodin. Both of them died in agony due to the head nurses using the medication that was meant for them and instead, selling their medication for profit.

Who's Going To Protect Us From The Cops?

Then there is the disturbing trend, lately, where the cops in this area of small, strung together towns are getting in trouble for some pretty heinous crimes.

In the town I grew up in, a former Assistant Police Chief has been caught, arrested and fined for pilfering money from the police department he worked at. No jail time, however. He had been a cop there for close to twenty years.

Still another cop has been suspended, temporarily, from the force for two instances of Driving Under the Influence and crashing into someone on the last one.

Yet another cop, in my old hometown, has recently been arrested for beating his wife almost to death and he has been ticketed and given a little fine for his actions.

Even the mayor of the town I'm living in now has recently been arrested for driving under the influence and crashing into a parked vehicle.

Saving The Worst For Last

One former Assistant Police Chief was arrested earlier this year. This former Assistant Police Chief of one of these small towns in a Indiana police department will spend the next seven years in prison. The cop resigned in April of 2010 after being arrested for solicitation.

Police say the veteran police officer was chatting with whom he thought to be a 13 year old girl, who was, in fact, an undercover police officer in Ohio. The former Assistant Police Chief, while chatting away with the "young girl", also exposed his cock to her by way of using his son's computer and the son's web cam. It was later reported that he had flashed his genitals on several different occasions to other young girls, by way of web cam, after law enforcement officials confiscated the computer and checked out the history and video files on the hard drive and talking to victims of whom he flashed.

The court was thinking about fining "Officer Pervert" a shit load of money on top of his sentence but they decided, in the end, to refrain from doing so because his wife and two sons would be the ones to suffer. His wife, of nearly twenty years of marriage, is barely getting by as it is because she works at Wal-Mart. You know... Wal-Mart. That's the place where they treat their employees like shit and pay them next to nothing while they face and deal with the general public every day- a fate worse than death. I know. I was employed there for about three years.

Also, on a side note, if any employee at Wal-Mart is caught or rumored to have spoken about this woman's ex-cop husband (yes, she is still married to him) and the crime he committed, they have been told they will be immediately terminated on site.

By the way, I have nothing but absolute respect for anyone having to deal with an ungrateful, cold blooded team of management and your typical asshole customers every day. Much more so than anyone else in any other occupation- with the exception of firefighters, EMT's and people who help others out.

"Officer Pervert", who is 52 years old, had been a police officer for 25 years. As of now, this scumbag, piece-of-shit ex-cop remains held at the Switzerland County Detention Center until he can be moved to a state facility because they fear for his safety.

Hopefully, when they throw his sorry ass in prison, he will be eligible for the special Seven Year Plan of severe, sadistic anal raping as a lesson in justice.

Let's collectively cross our fingers, shall we?

The popular expression in our area, nowadays, is this:

If you wanna get a job as a cop with the police department- it's easy... Just commit a felony.

The Truth

All cops are not heroes and that's a fact, but because of the myth that "all cops are heroes," there's minimal call for disciplining bad cops, and maximal call for "forgiving," and "understanding" the tough work of being a cop. To me, that type of allowance is terrifying.

Police work is tough, of course. It's among the most difficult jobs in the world, work that deserves our respect. And turning a blind eye toward police misconduct by allowing crooked, corrupt, outright criminal cops to have long careers in law enforcement only makes it more difficult and dangerous for the good cops.

Letting cops get away with crime, or "punishing" police misconduct with long, leisurely paid suspensions, or probation, or sweet deals that allow a policeman's own police record to be expunged, or any of the other special treatments cops typically receive when they're accused of wrongdoing, is asinine and counterproductive.

And really, the same goes for any authority figure. They should be held accountable and the punishment for any wrongdoing on their part should be swift and harsh just because they have been given the responsibility of either leading and/or protecting people in their charge.

If you wish, I will gleefully volunteer for the job of doling out said punishments. I can be quite creative, I cheerfully assure you. I am smiling quite evilly now, as you can imagine. And can you just imagine me in charge of punishing such offenders? What fun everyone would have!

In The End

It's been an exciting year in my neck of the woods thus far. I wonder what will happen next in my sleepy little town. It's always been a source of mild amusement for me when reporters come around and do their usual commentary during these types of reports, saying the same routine phrase, "Well, you wouldn't think it could happen in such a small town like this but "so and so" committed _________ (fill in the blank for whatever shocking crime you can think of that could happen in a burg like mine).

Conditioning Techniques and Widespread Insanity

The first time you put your finger in a quickly rotating metal fan blade will probably also be your last. When you see the blood spurting forth from your digit like a geyser, you will have hopefully learned a lesson. And you will come away with not only a dismembered finger, but an association of the spinning metal fan blade with pain and the loss of something valuable. Like your goddamn finger!

In our everyday world, such learned associations or conditioned responses are realized in countless ways: A driver will brake at a red light in order to avoid injury or a ticket. Somebody eating shrimp and afterwards feel their throat closing up to an allergic reaction to shellfish will likely not eat it again and avoid it, entirely. A friend that steals from you will teach you not to trust that person again. And so on. These types of conditioned responses can only benefit you in the future.

These are normal, natural responses that prove useful in your life. Positive stimuli for your benefit.

And then there are the ones that aren't useful, beneficial, normal or natural. Such as: Phobias, superstitions, blindly following instead of thinking for fear of ridicule or punishment, addictions to drinking, gambling, money or anything self destructive for hollow, temporary contentedness.

People, I've always found, are an odd bunch. Even as a kid, I was an observer of society. The older I become, the more I see the flaws that get in the way of human progress. Often times, I wonder if we are devolving.

From youth to adult, we are conditioned by the commercials we see on TV or rhetoric we read from print or computer to act or feel a certain way. We're duped by ads, politicians, supervisors, friends, family and more. Conditioning techniques come in the forms of rewards and punishments. Do and act correctly, according to society as a whole and you may receive an award. If you refrain from doing what is expected or required- punishment may be inflicted in verbal or physical form.

There are only a few things that people are capable of that I can think of that are clearly acts that require punishment. Murder of an innocent human is one. Rape is another. Stealing, yet another. Telling someone a lie, in order that they do your bidding, is a good example, too. I'm sure there are more but I could be typing all night long. And that's not going to happen.

What frustrates me is the fact that people are not aware of these techniques that are used to ingrain these negative notions inside their minds. At least, that's the evidence that seems to be flaunted by most everyone. All they know is what they're told.

Religions, companies and governments are grand manipulators. Weapons they use that dig into your mind for their benefit the most? Words that instill fear so you do their bidding. Think about that, unless you haven't already.

It seems as years go by, while casually observing the public, friends, family and myself, of course, the will to think for oneself in this society has become disrupted and even corrupted. Has it always been this way with the human species? To think or act this way or else?

To be made a slave by any organized mass is the truest shame one can take on. When I see everyone in our society thinking and acting as expected or planned, it causes me to believe that we are not unwilling victims of widespread insanity but that we actually invite it, welcome it and wrap it around ourselves as if it were a warm, comfortable security blanket.

Fortune Faded and A Threat From Granny

Fortune Faded is a cool song. You must now Play the equally cool video you see here in front of your eyeballs or I will be forced to make you lick a grandmother's camel toes.

If you're a Red Hot Chili Peppers fan, you've likely already heard this tune. If not, you'll like it anyway. Remember: If you don't play this video, then I will physically make you lick granny's wide open, maggot-infested, cobwebbed beaver.

Your choice.

SO WHAT DID YOU THINK OF IT? Remember: I've got an old woman sitting by me, waiting impatiently for you to make the choice that should not be made so she can expose to you her wrinkled meat snatch in the box and get an enthusiastic licking from you, in return . No, you don't get to ask why I have an old naked geriatric sitting beside me. I don't know myself. She just magically appeared. And now she seems to be getting more frustrated than before. Honest.

Do What Now?

This post could have also been called "Other Random Things I can't Stand" but I hate this title the best. So... it stays. Make sense? Doesn't need to, really. You're here, at Psycho Carnival. Just like real, ordinary life, it doesn't make a bit of sense at times.

I'm half deaf, if you remember me mentioning that before and when I don't quite hear every word that popped outta someone's jibber mouth, I say the average, normal, "Huh?" or- the ever fancy and imaginative "I didn't hear what you said."

I don't say the weak phrase of "Excuse me?" I'd feel like a girl if I asked someone to repeat themselves with those words. Fuck that, for sure. I would especially feel that way if I asked, "Please?" It makes you out to be a docile, subordinate little princess or fat fuck with a gag ball in your mouth-- whether you're a guy or gal.

But what I don't do and what I think is really rude and beyond ignorant is saying, "Do what now?" This can be interpreted easily as a smart-ass remark more than anything else because one, the person saying this is purposefully confusing you and twisting your intentions around. There is no 'DOING WHAT?'- obviously- because your question, likely, did not involve doing anything. It's really freakin' stupid. And rude. And if you say it around me, I will be highly tempted to knock you out on your ass and rip your jugular vein out with your fingernail clippers.

As you burple up blood from neck and mouth and shit yourself, I''l be sure to ask, "Do what now?"

Another thing bothering me is the ongoing love affair that the media has with youth. It's more prevalent today than ever and I don't get that shit at all. I'd rather hear from grown ups on the street or on TV or anywhere else. Not that youth can't be wise, at times. But, I can bet good money that there are more adults with more wisdom or more interesting things to say than kids. Sorry. I'm just stating a fact. You can twist the idea all around you want. But the truth is the truth.

Reality shows, movies, life sucking human predators that prey upon youth and all the rest with youth-related stuff can put themselves in a big hot air ballon and drift off far far away to Harry Potter Land or in the World of The Latest Youth Oriented Crap- texting, cell phone blathering, bullying online and in school, wearing makeup at too early an age to look grown up-yet make the mistake that men/women will look at you in ways you really do not want them to. And so on.... but you get the picture.

Which brings me to these "little girl beauty pageants" or "little girl tournament type dances" on TV shows. What kind of sick freak want to see these poor, parent-pushed events where young girls look like prostitutes with skimpy clothing and too much make-up? I'll tell you who. Pedophiles. They and weird producers who don't mind making money off fucked up shows like these. The news media is guilty, too. They promote and expose youth in every way imaginable and some in this society, buy into it because we're either just sick and we watch it or we're trying desperately to live our lives through these kids. That last part concerns the parents of these defenseless girls, mostly. The parents are sick, too and should be castrated or given free hysterectomies with a rusty spoon.

Beautiful imagery. I know.

Lastly, I hate myself for leaving off words or letters from words in a sentence. Why can't I proofread what I say properly? Am I insane?

Don't answer that.

Oh, I almost forgot. I have good news. I was able to get it up today. My prick, you know. After months of not having any luck, this magical stuff my doc gave me... Cialis... did the trick. Viagra just made me light-headed. I'm already fucked up enough.

My wife has shown her gratitude by not nagging me to clean the air conditioning filter. She did it, instead. Good woman. A woman's place is cleaning the air conditioner filter, as they always say.

Just kidding. Don't worry about me. The wife won't see this post so I don't have to worry about her cutting my fully functional erect junk cut off, tonight. 3 cheers!

And why is BP acting like they're such saints because they're promising the residents in the Gulf area a paltry sum, once divided, to be spread pretty thinly, when you consider the amount- among the residents in the Gulf region? The damage they have and will continue to cause will go way beyond their payment fund for the residents are going to get in monetary terms. What an insulting joke. I think BP CEO, Tony Hayward, whose yearly salary last year- totaling 4.7 million, should pay out of is own pocket, as well as the predestined fund amount. I also think he should drown in an ocean of oil- along with everyone else who are either profiting from or have helped create this mess.

Own up to your mistakes. I believe you pay for your mistakes in accordance for what damage you do... no matter what happens to you as a consequence.

I have more questions but I have to go put a smile on my face. Do what now?