Making its rounds in the news lately, is a story about how the Insane Clown Posse is suing the FBI for labeling their fans, “Juggalos,” a gang. A great piece (much better than the original one I read) about it can be found here, including two Youtube videos of the two members of ICP, Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope, speaking out against the FBI and this ruling.
Despite what you think of ICP or their fans, this is complete bullshit on every level. Seriously. You can hate them all you want, but it’s like saying if you’re a fan of Green Day or Martina McBride, and you wear one of their shirts out in public, the cops can stop you and add your name to a database that says you’re in a gang. It doesn’t matter if you’re driving to work, or if you’re out with your family enjoying a picnic, or if you’re in the armed forces.
Let’s say you forgot to do laundry one day but you had to run to the store for milk so you could feed your little kids some cereal, and you throw on an ICP shirt because it’s laying around. You bought it back in 1994 at one of their concerts when you were thirteen. Now you’re a 33 year old marine who just came home from a tour overseas and you’re spending your last day at home with your kids before you have to go back. You go to the store to get some milk and BAM! You’re pulled over by the cops, they see your shirt, and now you’re in a database as a gang member. Thanks for fighting for our freedom and having to feed your kids whom you might never see again after today. Fucking gang member. Who are you to listen to music when you were barely a teenager twenty years ago?
ICP Hatchetman. This is a gang symbol. Good job, FBI.
This is really for those of you who are located around the Cincinnati area and know of Skyline. The rest of you can bugger off. Really, get to fuck. Cause you won’t have a clue about what I’m talking about.
A few years back Skyline introduced habañero cheese for a limited time only. It went over so well they brought it in full time. Just a few years ago I worked at a Skyline and dealt with this cheese. There’s a Skyline right down the road from me and my wife and I eat there regularly, and have for years.
You may not know this, but I’m a paranoid guy. Seriously. I grew up paranoid, and even now it’s something that haunts me. Like, it’s a real thing.
When I was a kid living with my dad, we lived in a cul-de-sac. Any time during the day or night, if my dad was in the living room and somebody came to the end of the street and turned around, or even if one of the neighbors pulled into their driveway, he would get up, go to the window, and look out. Just to see who it was. That made me paranoid.
It followed me. As a teenager I lived with my mom and I had this one window in my bedroom that was high up on the wall. It was just high enough that I could look out it while standing up. Even then I thought, at night, people were in the back yard just watching me from it, even though in order to see me I would have had to be standing at the window, and they would have had to be quite a distance away from me, and they would have only seen my head.
This is an oldie, but goodie. I first read this years ago in a chain email and had forgotten all about it until That’s What Ron Said reminded me of it by posting a link to this joke about a guy selling a yoga mat on Craigslist. Hysterical stuff, and that yoga mat joke is written much like this one.
As it turns out, this joke is all over the net, so I just pulled it from this site, and would like to say thanks to them for having it for me to find. Any way, check this out. It’s funny. Also, I went through it and fixed some small, unimportant things. My OCD made me.
Texas Chili Cook Off
Notes from an inexperienced Chili taster named Frank, who was visiting Texas from the East Coast:
Recently I was honored to be selected as an outstanding famous celebrity in Texas, to be a judge at a Chili cook-off, because no one else wanted to do it. Also the original person called in sick at the last moment, and I happened to be standing there at the judge’s table asking for directions to the beer wagon when the call came. I was assured by the other two judges (Native Texans) that the chili wouldn’t be all that spicy, and besides, they told me that I could have free beer during the tasting. So I accepted.
Here are the scorecards from the event:
Think about the dumbest person you know, and then know that I know someone dumber than that person you’re thinking of.
I’m not going to say who he is or where I know him from, because that could get some people in some shit, potentially. I will say this, though. He’s a security guard for a hotel. I deliver pizza to a LOT of hotels, and I just so happen to see this guy every now and then.
When I first met him, I heard some of his stories about young love and sexual conquest, and I didn’t know better so I just thought he had it going on. Like BOW CHICKA BOW BOW style. When I started getting to know him better I started realizing that he’s just so terribly full of shit that it has overflown and it comes out of his mouth. A lot.
His problem is, he not only spews forth this bullshit, all the time, about everything, but he also believes most of it. The worst part is, he can’t help himself. Every time he opens his mouth, he’s going to lie about something. From the grandest of the grand, to the smallest, most insignificant shit. He just has to lie.
What’s even sadder is, his sister has Down Syndrome (his other sister is a lesbian, I don’t think that matters much) and I’m pretty sure he was born slightly Down Syndrome himself. He’s a fully functioning adult, you can have serious discussions with him about anything, but he has that look. I don’t mean to make fun of anybody with any sort of Syndrome or mental retardation, but he has that look to him that most of those people have. Like he’s a few der-der-der’s shy of full blown retard.