“If you can’t love yourself, how the hell you gonna love somebody else?” - RuPaul - - - - - - - - - - - “if by a "Liberal" they mean someone who looks ahead and not behind, someone who welcomes new ideas without rigid reactions, someone who cares about the welfare of the people -- their health, their housing, their schools, their jobs, their civil rights, and their civil liberties -- someone who believes we can break through the stalemate and suspicions that grip us in our policies abroad, if that is what they mean by a "Liberal," then I'm proud to say I'm a "Liberal.” - John F. Kennedy - - - - - - - - - - - - “Imagine finding someone you love more than anything in the world, who you would risk your life for but couldn’t marry. And you couldn’t have that special day the way your friends do – you know, wear the ring on your finger and have it mean the same thing as everybody else. Just put yourself in that person’s shoes. It makes me feel sick to my stomach …. When I shared a picture of my tattoo on my Twitter page and said, ‘ALL LOVE is equal,’ a lot of people mocked me – they said, ‘What happened to you? You used to be a Christian girl!’ And I said, ‘Well, if you were a true Christian, you would have your facts straight. Christianity is about love.’ The debate resulted in a lot of threats and hate mail to people who agreed and disagreed with me. At one point I had to say, ‘Dude, everyone lay off.’ Can’t people have friendly debates about sensitive topics without it turning into unnecessary threats?” - Pop star Miley Cyrus on her marriage equality tattoo - - - - - - - - - - -

Friday, March 2, 2012

I Quote That - Crying

Cyanide and Happiness: Charles' Relationship

Just Sayn'

Hopefully we won't go for the third one anytime soon.

World Record Paper Airplane Distance

Who knew things like this even existed?

How many of you remember folding paper airplanes and darting them across school classrooms?  I do, I do!  LOL.  Well, John Collins designed a world-record breaking paper airplane thrown by Joe Ayoob last month.  The plane flew 226 feet, 10 inches smashing the old record by 19 feet, 6 inches.

The current record is 207 feet and 4 inches set by Stephen Kreiger in 2003.

The new world record, once verified by Guinness, will be 226 feet, 10 inches.  Check out the record-breaking event below.

Post Secret Fridays - Issue 097

PostSecret is an ongoing community art project where people mail in their secrets anonymously on one side of a homemade postcard.

 See More Secrets. Follow PostSecret on Twitter.

 Want to see older Post Secret Friday issues? Go here.

Are People Really This Stupid? Issue No. 23 - "Because This Is What The F-ing People Want" [NSFW]

Aye, Aye, Aye, I keep asking myself the same question over and over, and I keep coming up with same freaking answer! YES! YES! and YES!

I'm sorry but this has got to be the most stupidest thing I have ever seen.  Lol. Yes, I know I'm using improper grammar, but since we're being stupid who gives a sh*t.

Seriously Bro - would you set your hair on fire, because "Bro, this is what the f-ing people want"?

So a couple idiots (who shall remain nameless), thought it would be a good idea to feed a fellow bro some flaming nachos. No. Some real flaming nachos.  But if that wasn't enough, why not use a propane tank and light their bro's hair on fire as well?  I think Matt Stopera over at BuzzFeed said it best, “If you needed anymore proof that this generation is the GREATEST generation here it is.

Oh, one more thing... this is NSFW because of the filthy language the bros use throughout the taping and burning of their fellow bros hair. 

Disney Prince of the Week 008

Over the last 8 weeks I have been posting a Disney Prince of the Week.  Can you guess the movie and the name of the character who played this week's Prince? 

While he's not technically a Prince in the movie, the artist considers him the girl counter-part of a Disney Animated movie.  Hence in the eyes of the artist, he's a Prince of Disney.

How To Draw A Cat

Use this handy little chart to help you draw a kitty cat.

More From Katy Perry's Interview Spread

Remember that stunning photo of Katy Perry I posted on Wednesday?  Well several more pics have surfaced and she's just as stunning.  Check'em out.

Move Back Adele, there's a new girl in town...

Well, my music is about to get real fucking dark. I’ll be shoe-gazing. You’ll never see my face because my hair is in my face.” 
- Katy Perry when asked about her break-up with Russell Brand 
and how it will affect her songs when she writes them.

Captain Kathryn Janeway vs. The Cast of Frasier

I felt a little bit of nostalgia coming on, and had to post this video of Captain Kathryn Janeway from the television series, "Star Trek: Voyager".

The series aired from 1995-2001 on the UPN network which later changed it's name to the CW.  It was the networks longest airing series at the time and I watched every single episode.  Of all the Star Trek shows, this was by far, my favorite.  The Captain, while foolish in her decisions at times, was statuesque, brave and downright sexy.  We all loved her.  Well... most of my friends did anyway. LOL.

In either case, the cast from the sitcom, "Frasier" which aired from 1993-2004 were featured alongside Captain Janeway and her bridge during the Emmy Awards and it was absolutely hilarious.  Check it out.

Rush Limbaugh's Letter To The American People [NSFW]

The most disgusting, conservative radio host on the face of this planet, aside from Ann Coulter has been on the news lately after calling a Georgetown University Law Student a "prostitute" and a "slut" because she went to testify on Capitol Hill about Women's access to contraception.

So... it's only fitting that I post this lovely letter, as fictional and as funny as it may be, it truly speaks truth about the man.  It is Not Safe For Work, because of the filthy, filthy language Rush Limbaugh says about himself, so please read at your own accord.  It surely speaks volumes about the animal he is and how vile most of REDs have become.

I Don't Even Want To Be Alive Anymore

I know there are a lot of people out there who are upset about some of the things I've been saying on my radio program lately. My comments about the situation in Haiti have hurt and angered many Americans who genuinely care about the plight of the Haitian people, and that hurt and anger will likely never go away. Many of you are probably wondering, "What would compel a human being to say things like that?" Well, here's your answer: I am a very bad person. And, to tell you the truth, I don't really want to be alive anymore.

Try to look at it from my point of view. I have no reason to live. In my 59 years, I've made millions of dollars, built a veritable media empire, and accomplished virtually everything that a man of my limited imagination and worldview could possibly accomplish. And yet, at this point, in no way could you refer to what I'm doing as "living," exactly. I just sort of exist. I derive no real pleasure from life. Oh, sure, I talk a big game about what a golf nut I am and how much I enjoy the taste of a fine cigar, but it's all horseshit. Complete and utter horseshit.

I don't enjoy that stuff. I don't enjoy anything. I don't even want to be here. The sadness and regret I feel every waking hour of my life is absolutely unbearable. I am a miserable pig and I do not want to exist.

The irony is that, even if I did die, the hell I would surely be sent to could not possibly be any worse than the bottomless pool of excrement I already paddle around in like some demented, shit-covered walrus. In fact, every time I hear my voice coming through the headphones I nearly gag, and I think, "What the fuck am I doing?" Why would I say that Michael J. Fox is faking his Parkinson's symptoms? Why would I find it funny to play a song called "Barack the Magic Negro"? Why would I tell people not to give aid to Haiti?

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I live in constant terror and that terror informs my every word, thought, and action.

See, the thing is, I honestly cannot control the bilious hatred and filth that oozes out of my mouth. I want to—believe me, I want to—but I can't. And every time I speak, a tiny voice inside my head is screaming, "Stop talking, you stupid, insensitive prick. JUST STOP FUCKING TALKING. All you do is spread hate and fear, and the world would be a better place without you, you worthless, amoral, cocksucking fuckface."

What I should really do is just commit suicide. I have this little Sunday ritual I started around the time I publicly compared the torture at Abu Ghraib to a fraternity prank, where I climb into my Jacuzzi and put a gun in my mouth. But I can never work up the guts to pull the trigger. A few times I came close to overdosing on prescription pain pills, but my goddamn doctors were always there to save me. If I had any sense, I would just hole myself up in a Red Roof Inn with a case of Jack Daniel's and slowly drink myself into the gaping maw of death itself.

But what can I say? I guess I'm just too much of a fat fucking pussy to follow through.

You know what? I wish someone would just kill me. I'm serious. Yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking: "Oh my God, how can you say such a thing? You can't print that in a newspaper!" But see, I don't care anymore. I've cried my tears. I've battled my demons, and I've lost. It's over. It's all over. The only thing left for me to do now is just go away. Have I even once contributed a single ounce of good to humanity? Put me out of my misery. I wouldn't make a fuss. I wouldn't even humiliate myself by saying goodbye. For the first time in my odious, pitiful life, I'd accept my fate with quiet dignity.

Then I wouldn't have to live with my wretched, wretched self. Oh, the release.

I've imagined my death a thousand times over, and it's always the same. In my mind's eye, a serene setting comes into view. I see a funeral procession driving down some small-town Main Street in Nowheresville, U.S.A. On one side of the street, a collection of sycophants and morons are paying their respects in subliterate, sanctimonious tones. Meanwhile, on the other side of the street, I can just make out the faint image of a young boy, his brow furrowed in confusion, clutching the hand of his father. "Who is that man, Daddy?" he asks as the hearse containing my bloated, lifeless body rolls by. "Who is that person they speak of?" The father will then lower his head and say, "There, my son, go the remains of Rush Hudson Limbaugh, the most abominable lump of festering dog shit in the history of American broadcasting. May the likes of him never again soil or tarnish the greatness of our fair country."

Please forgive me, everyone. I am so sorry.
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Hope you enjoy my daily posts, and hope to hear from you soon.

- Blade 7184 aka Peter