Few-ture Change

"Change is inevitable, except for vending machines." -fortune cookie on my fridge

“Change is inevitable, except for vending machines.” -fortune cookie on my fridge

 

Whether it’s appellations, acronyms, or attitudes, there’s changes in the air:

 

A Puff By Any Other Name – “What didn’t Diddy do?”   -Satan, South Park

Hot off the presses comes the astonishing news that talentless wonder, Sean Combs, aka Puff Daddy, aka P. Diddy, aka Puff the Magic Dragon, aka Puffington Post, aka Biggie’s Biggest Mistake, has now done the unthinkable and changed his name.  I mean who saw that coming?  I love these geriatric rappers trying to stay relevant by re-branding.  How’d that whole “Snoop Lion” thing go over, by the way?  I don’t know what the fuck his new amalgamation of the words “Puff” and “Daddy” is, and I don’t give a shit.  All I care about is how the fuck are you only gonna drop two verses on “Missing You”?  That’s all of the material you could come up with for your dead best friend?  Weak-ass writer…

 

Text Change – The last time I got a new phone I had the rather amusing experience of a “mis-text.”  That’s when the stupid fuckin spell check thingy changes your text into its own horseshit after you send it.  We’ve all had that happen.  That’s what the little * is for—to clean up the dumb spell check’s mess.  Well this last one was quite the mess indeed.  When I typed “Lyk” it came up as “Kkk” when I sent it.  Needless to say I was not amused.  Not that it made sense in the sentence anyway, but I really don’t need to be sending that kind of shit to my grandmother.

 

Dogfags – As I pointed out many Spews ago, the idea that cats are pussies compared to dogs is asinine when you consider a tiger would rip a wolf’s head off, but it goes even further than that: dogs aren’t just pussies, dogs are homos.  I’ve never seen two male cats humping each other.  Or licking each other’s balls.  Meanwhile, put two male dogs withing 100 feet of each other and it turns into Barkback Mountain.  I used to live with two dogs—it was like living at Liberace’s house.  Every five minutes another gay orgy would break out, and you had to pry one off of the other or break up yet another nauseating ball-licking festival.  Never seen two cats doing that shit.  So who’s the real faggots?

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