I wish we lived in a world that didn’t publish mass murderer’s manifestos.

-Obvious

I hate feeling like I’m the one who’s sane in this world… cause I know me, and I definitely don’t want my brand of *sanity* to be the best this Universe has to offer.

-Obvious

Dearest Dead,

The Hooters franchise says there’s going to open up a Hooters restaurant in Israel come this summer, or as I suggest they call it ‘The Homicide Bomber Magnet.’

Titties, pork ribs, and beer. I think that’s what they call the Tehran Trifecta.

Don’t these corporate dweebs pause for a moment to think what kind of consequences a restaurant like that will have on the ever downward-spiraling image of Americans in the global theater? Holy warriors will have a yet another solid *reason* to point at and say ‘See, this is exactly what I’ve been talking about, my homeboys!’

Hooters, Home of the Infidel Ideology.

Holy Fucking Hell,
Obvious

I’m so broke right now, I can’t even afford an *is* for my entry title.

Here’s a rhetorical question: How fucked up is it that I’m literally paying for other people’s failure in life?

Because of the gullibility of my youth, I’d unfortunately allowed myself to be severely taken advantage of by the worst of humanity— a ghoul without any hope of a conscience, whose only redeeming quality is the ability to deceive others. The human equivalent of Herpes.

And years later, even though I have severed all ties and have absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with the lives and lies of the horrible life-stealing bloodsucker, I’m still being being royally, and repeatedly screwed by that bipedal sore on humanity’s genitals.

I’ve read that the first two weeks of your work month you’re basically working off your obligation to governmental taxes and programs. If that’s true then I haven’t worked for *myself* in a long time?

And the irony of all this, is that this particularly fucked up shit is the least of my worries right now.

Oh the joy!

-Obvious