Sunday, October 31, 2010
Never interfere in a boy and girl fight.
Beware of whores who say they don't want money. The hell they don't. What they mean is they want more money. Much more.
If you're doing business with a religious son of a bitch, get it in writing. His word isn't worth shit, not with the good Lord telling him how to fuck you on the deal.
Avoid fuckups. You all know the type. Anything they have anything to do with, no matter how good it sounds, turns into a disaster.
Do not offer sympathy to the mentally ill. Tell them firmly, "I am not paid to listen to this drivel. You are a terminal fool."
Now some of you may encounter the devil's bargain if you get that far. Any old soul is worth saving at least to a priest, but not every soul is worth buying. So you can take the offer as a compliment. They charge the easy ones first, you know, like money, all the money there is. But who wants to be the richest guy in some cemetery? Not much to spend it on, eh, Gramps? Getting too old to cut the mustard. Have you forgotten something, Gramps? In order to feel something, you have to be there. You have to be 18. You're not 18, you are 78. Old fool sold his soul for a strap-on.
How about an honorable bargain? "You always wanted to become a doctor. Now's your chance. Why, you could have become a great healer and benefit humanity. What's wrong with that?" Just about everything. There are no honorable bargains involving exchange of qualitative merchandise like souls. Just quantitative merchandise like time and money. So piss off, Satan, and don't take me for dumber than I look. As an old junk pusher told me, "Watch whose money you pick up."
-- William S. Burroughs
rally for sanity
and further whenever i see the national mall all i can think about is how i killed supermutants there
Friday, October 29, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
This is exactly how I recall my earlier years.
The best home-grown still comes from that district, especially the varieties now known as Longbottom Leaf, Old Toby, and Southern Star. How Old Toby came by the plant is not recorded, for to his dying day he would not tell. He knew much about herbs."
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Ireland budget cuts
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
"Oscar was not into serious street-fighting, but he was hell on wheels in a bar brawl. Any combination of a 250 lb Mexican and LSD-25 is a potentially terminal menace for anything it can reach - but when the alleged Mexican is in fact a profoundly angry Chicano lawyer with no fear at all of anything that walks on less than three legs and a de facto suicidal conviction that he will die at the age of 33 - just like Jesus Christ - you have a serious piece of work on your hands. Especially if the bastard is already 33½ years old with a head full of Sandoz acid, a loaded .357 Magnum in his belt, a hatchet-wielding Chicano bodyguard on his elbow at all times, and a disconcerting habit of projectile vomiting geysers of pure blood off the front porch every 30 or 40 minutes, or whenever his malignant ulcer can't handle any more raw tequila."
—Hunter S. Thompson, Rolling Stone #254, December 15, 1977