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Post Office Will Issue Trayvon Martin Stamp

Your Horoscope
Week of July 21
(Ramp Accessible)
Born this week you might be a Cancer, you might be a Leo, or you might experience a disconcerting growth spurt in one of your vestigial organs. No matter, your chances for a normal life are better than Rory Culkin's, 24, or Conor Kennedy's, 18, both of whom have birthdays this week.
Mr. Culkin will eventually take his own life after he can no longer stand being mistaken for his brothers Kieran, Macauley, and Nostrodomus. Mr. Kennedy, aside from being saddled with a tragically cliched first name, must also fight the ravages of the industrial-strength STD he caught from Taylor Swift.


Cancer (June 22–July 22) Your financial prospects are so wretched you can only afford the new Vin Disel Fast & Furious grill on a time-sharing arrangement with a family that's overly fond of road-kill. Later in the month a fifteen-pound newborn canary named Junior will escape from his cage and imprint on you.

Leo (July 23–Aug. 22) Your sex life is a shareware program about to expire. One-size-fits-all gloves don't come in your size. If dreams took human form, yours would be wearing toe tags.

Virgo (Aug. 23–Sept. 22) Car A leaves Hollywood at 9:00 a.m. on Monday. Car B leaves Bangor, Maine, at the same moment. Car A, which has a 15-gallon gas tank and averages 19.6 miles per gallon, is driving east. Car B, which has a 17.5-gallon tank and averages 18.9 miles per gallon, is driving west. After three days, what color is car B?

Libra (Sept. 23–Oct.23) Like most Librans you are a sniveling complainer, unable to get your mind around the fact that we are all responsible for our own karma. Perhaps the mess that is your present life is but your last request from a previous existence. Try to discover why you were executed in that existence and what your first requests were.

Scorpio (Oct. 24–Npv. 21) According to the George Zimmerman Random Actuarial Profiler, where "10" equals "dead-bolt cinch" and "0" equals "dead in the street," your critical numbers for this week are: communicable disease, 8; grace under fire, 3; plays well with others, 1; inappropriate response 9; cannot recommend for advancement, 8.

Sagittarius (Nov. 22–Dec. 21) Sagittarians are ruled by the buttocks, the seat of all power. Their gemstone is porcelain, their favorite time of day is right after meals, and they prize regularity above all other virtues.

Capricorn (Dec. 22–Jan. 19) Capricorns suffer from automonosis—the tendency to become bored with one's own company. If you hanker to get away from yourself, here's a tip: you don't have to die in order to be reincarnated. If you don't like who you are, become somebody else. There are companies that advertise in the backs of magazines that will help you.

Aquarius (Jan. 20–Feb. 18) Your life is a run-on sentence that is out of control and greatly in need of editing. Learn to appreciate the nuances of subordinate clauses and the hierarchical conjunctions that exist among colons, semicolons, commas, and em dashes.

Pisces (Feb. 19–March 20) Ever the cynic you have no trouble believing it isn't butter; that some minds would not be a terrible thing to waste; and that maybe you don't deserve a break today. You also have a highly developed sense of irony, which leads you to walk around muttering "I see living people" in a tiny, traumatized voice.

Aries (March 21–April 19) If the enemy of your enemy is your friend, does that mean your friend's friend is your enemy? Or are you simply being paranoid? Don't make any decisions unless you begin getting calls from a foreign-sounding man who breathes heavily into the phone and identifies himself as a friend of a friend.

Taurus (April 20–May 20) Your sun is in Leo, which could mean trouble because it's supposed to be in Albuquerque. Leo's son, meanwhile, has just confessed his love for his stepmother, who is being blackmailed by a mysterious man named Kurt.Pictures at 11:00.

Gemini (May 21–June 21) After a twelve-course Chinese dinner, you switch fortune cookies with the person next to you when she isn't looking. When she opens "her" cookie, she grins happily. Several weeks later you learn that she has won several $8 million in the lottery. Meanwhile, the cookie that you opened said, "That wasn't really pork."


The Grammar Prick
Meaner than a powdery, old-hag English teacher, The Grammar Prick will split your head if you split an infinitive.
Visit The Grammar Prick
Postcards the Book
The book that inspired a website is available from Cedar Tree Books. Written by someone who was actually raised by pugs, Postcards is a welcome addition to any nightstand.
Sample chapters . . . 1 2

Stevie Wonder Wins Trayvon Martin Ass Hat Award
Jul 17, 2013 - 10:09:00 AM
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WEST CHESTER, Pa. - Racial harmony in the United States may not be receding in the rear view mirror of life so much as one might imagine in these post-Trayvon-Martin times.

Ever since George Zimmerman became a freeman last Saturday night, a Saturday Night fever has enveloped members of the Liberal and the Hottentot classes—not to mention every asshole with a Twitter account and terminal indignation.

Thus, we are inspired to award multiple ass hat awards this week to the persons who have shat their credibility the most among reasonable persons such as you and me, Gentle Readers. This was not an easy call, for the amount of bushwa, bullshit, bullocks, and balderdash being spewed over and about Mr. Martin is higher than a mountain of garbage at your nearest landfill, and four times as odoriferous to boot.

But enough. Herewith the awards.

The first ass hat goes to Anthea Butler, an associate professor of Aphthae epizooticae (hoof-and-mouth disease) at the University of Pennsylvania's Department of Religious Studies. Ms. Butler took to something called ReligionDispatches.org on Monday to declare that "this American god ain't my god. As a matter of fact, I think he's a white racist god with a problem. More importantly, he is carrying a gun and stalking young black men." Ms. Butler further declared that Trayvon Martin's killing was the result of racism influenced by christianity.

Although we agree that christianity does suck whale dick— as do the fools who practice it—we have to wonder how anybody as semi-literate as Ms. Butler holds doctorate and masters degrees in religion from Vanderbilt University as well as a masters in theology from Fuller Theological Seminary. Affirmative action anyone? Just sayin'.

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Now, to prove that stupidity is color blind, please allow us to introduce you to the wisdom of David Simon, caucasoid, the creator of The Wire and the not-even-close-to-being-as-good Treme. (Full disclosure, your jovial correspondent once received a copyright-infringement notice from Mr. Simon's goons for "borrowing" the first season of Treme from the free lending library that is the internet. Fuck you, David. I was using a VPN so the notice never went any further than the folks running the server through which my clandestine activity had been routed. My ISP was never the wiser. So there, you slaphead jerk.)

Enough gloating.

Mr. Simon said recently that in Florida the "season on African-Americans now runs year round. Come one, come all. And bring a handgun. The legislators are fine with this blood on their hands. The governor, too."

Pausing only long enough to switch hands during his masturbatory rant, Mr. Simon declared, "If I were a person of color in Florida, I would pick up a brick and start walking toward that courthouse in Sanford. Those that do not . . . are testament to a stoic tolerance that is more than the rest of us deserve. I confess, their patience and patriotism is well beyond my own."

So is rational thought, you dunderhead. If you're so keen on throwing a brick at the courthouse in Sanford, why don't you hire a plane to fly you there, hire a limo to take you to the courthouse, then do your worst? Why do you expect persons of color to do your dirty work for you? Chicken-shit, fool. You sound a little racist yourself, Davey; and why do you want these persons of color to walk to Sanford? They've got the right to use public transportation, you know.

Despite the fact that I was taught not to make fun of others who did have the advantages that I had, like the miracle of sight, I'm going to ignore that advice—as I have ignored most other good advice in my lifetime—and call out Stevie Wonder, nee Stevland Hardaway Judkins.

The Ratchet Man got his extensions all in a twist over the George Zimmerman decision, which moved him to declare that he will no longer "perform" in Florida or in any other state or, indeed, in any place in the world that has a "stand your ground" law on the books.

Let's see, Stevland, that means we won't be subjected to your half-ass posturing in Alabama, Arizona, Georgia, Idaho, Illinois, Indiana, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Michigan, Mississippi, Montana, Nevada, North Carolina, Oklahoma, Oregon, South Carolina, South Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Washington, and West By-God Virginia. (This according to a piece in The Atlantic Wire for March 22, 2012.)

So why don't you take your seeing-eye dog and hit the bricks, Stevland? I'll bet it isn't long before you're performing in one of those unenlightened states because you discovered that you couldn't get out of a pre-existing contract after somebody had read the fine print to you.


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