They say revenge is a dish best served cold but I prefer to reheat it. So it’s especially tough not to notice whenever big steaming helpings of revenge are served up in a variety of ways. Currently the most delectable dishes for it remain rooted in religion, relationships, and rhythm. Examples include:
Rope-a-Pope – Some hoopla was stirred up when as usual, the Pope came uninvited to the opening of a new Day Care center, but was unusually candid regarding his condemnation of climate deniers, referring to them as “big bags of retarded shit.” Pausing to lick his lips at the sight of a toddler bending over, the Pope cleverly positioned himself behind the podium to hide his wrinkly erection as he continued to harangue what he termed, “climactic cunts.” More shocking than his profanity though was the sight of the Pope himself, who showed up to the press conference looking like Rocky Balboa. The preschool pimp sported a huge black eye and band aid on his face, suspiciously explaining that he somehow hit his head on the creepier version of the “Batmobile” known as the “Popemobile.” Cynics point out the much more likely explanation was the Pope’s usual reasons for such injuries: he got decked by the father of a molested kid.
All My Ex-es Don’t Live In Texas – In one of the more cheerful incidents this month, a cowpoke down in Texas we’ll just call Joe Calmface decided to rekindle the romance with his newly ex-wife. Figuring flowers or chocolates or perhaps even jewelry weren’t the best gift ideas, Calmface instead decided to show up at her house and riddle everyone inside with bullets. Ta-da. And you thought O.J. had a temper. When the gunsmoke cleared, Calmface’s ex-wife was ex-life, and seven of her friends were Swiss cheese. Then as police arrived, Calmface did the sensible thing and turned himself in. Into a hero that is, as he promptly capped himself before being captured. If only he killed a cop or two along the way then he’d really go down in the hubby hall of fame. Calmface’s bull’s eye/ex-wife’s mom told reporters that her daughter had filed for divorce in July, and that this weekend’s Cowboys game was her first chance to return to normalcy. “She loved hosting friends and families,” the mom said. “This was her first opportunity to do it after the divorce and he didn’t take it very well.” For fuck’s sake there’s the understatement of the year. The mom made a lot of sense though when she expressed the bittersweet irony about her daughter’s death occurring during a Cowboys game, noting, “For once the Cowboys weren’t the only ones getting killed that day.”
Taste in News-ic – While the world as we know it continues to swirl down the toilet I’ve mentioned before how it’s become a habit of mine to watch the fantabulous show “Democracy Now” on a daily basis. Or at least the “Headlines” part. One of the things that’s always perplexed me though is the cheeseball music that always bleeds into the first few seconds of that particular segment. It’s just so corny and out of place for a respected news show. That’s like Walter Cronkite coming out to the “Three Stooges” theme. When I was unfortunate enough to accidentally hear the entire song for the first time though it was ten times worse. It sounded like the elevator version of porno music. What bums me out most is the sad realization of why such a hideous sack of audio slop was seemingly picked out of a hat: it must be their friggin band. I bet that’s Amy Goodman herself playing some hippie-ass instrument like maracas or the tambourine.