Don't call me a bigot, you fucking faggot!!

You know what just makes me want to hug a big huge teddy bear? (if by "hug a big huge teddy bear" you mean "beat another human being to death with a big bad karmically-charged baseball bat").

Bigots. I loves me some bigots. What I love more is bigots that get all offended when you call them bigots and they're all like "nuh uh!" and you're all like "uh huh!" and they're all like "nuh uh!" and you're all like "uh huh!" and they're all like "bitch" and I'm all like "asshat!".

Bigots are bigots, no matter what pretty sheen of Biblical righteousness they paint themselves with as they get all frothy and twitchy and nasty with their "faggot" and "queer" and "nigger" and "cameljockey" and "insert-horribly-offensive-shit-brained-label-here."

But I'm no peacenik when it comes to FUCKING WANTING TO BEAT THE LIVING SHIT out of fucking small-minded ass-whores. And then I want to off-road on their heads with my AWD Subaru WRX. God forgive me, but there's this rage that's almost kinda scary at times. And sometimes I want to bathe in it and forget everything else and revel and celebrate that consumptive hatred.

On the way to play poker at the riverboat casinos in Louisiana, we have to drive by a town in Texas called Vidor. This is the birthplace of the Texas KKK and legendary for being a racist piece of shit town. My friends and I would NEVER stop there for gas, no matter what. Regardless of having Asian and black friends in the car, I don't think I would be brave enough to stop in that town because I associate violence and rage and hatred with those bigots and fucking racist fucks.

Strange that I fear them for the same things I feel inside...could I actually stop there after the stories I've heard of people using "nigger" in their vocabulary freely at the gas station? Could I actually not say something? Could I actually manage not to get my ass killed in that town? I truly doubt it because there's something of a daredevil in me, the part that sorta wants to fuck shit up and see if I can get away with it. I want to stop there and scream "racist fuck!" out of my window and see how fast my car can actually go, feeling the potential danger of their redneck rage. I want to look one of those whores in the eyes and kick them in their soul and rip part of their being out and wave it at the sun and watch it shrivel away, surely just as their souls will shrivel away in Hell.

But for now, I think I'll just joke with my friends about leaving them behind to fend for themselves in Vidor whenever we drive through there, when all I really want to see is that place and its attitudes razed to the ground and those people to fade away into a history of pain and struggle and hatred and then forgotten.

And in shocking news, we've discovered the combustion engine!

Utah, the wildly progressive and unrepressed state that it is, has decided to maybe, just maybe, do away with execution by firing squad.

SHUT UP!

Next thing you know, someone will tell us that the earth actually rotates around the sun or we'll figure out how to make some sort of flying machine. What the hell is going on here?! Has the world gone mad??!! I'm starting to swoon...someone bring me the vapors!

Thank you, Utah, for being a seemingly unending source of amusement for us upright bipedal folks in the world.

Two culture-changing events to be happy about...

Two things have happened that make me extremely happy and they should denote a sea change (my new phrase of the week) in American culture:

1. In their diabolical effort to destroy the hallowed institution of marriage, those baby-eating homosexuals have lined up in front to San Fran's city hall to bring the world crashing to a halt by getting married. Shock and awe folks. I'm surprised Satan himself hasn't split the world in half and sucked out the chewy caramel middle. Get over it, homophobes. Fuck, half of straight weddings are ONLY fabulous because gay wedding planners make them so. In case you haven't noticed, gays don't ruin marriage, divorces ruin marriage. Federal admendments "protecting" marriage, which is a contract between two individuals, ruin marriage. Oh, and about those retread Bible-backed arguments about how marriage is sacred and homosexuality is wrong (p.s. my god hates YOU too!), I've got one word for ya: yawn.

2. The Cubs signed Greg Maddux. SUCK IT ASTROS FANS. Ah, sweet, sweet victory shall be ours. Clemens and Pettite? Feh. Your window of opportunity is closing Houston fan...

Carons suck.

Stupid carons! Stupid goat-sucking gypsy-lovin' Czech carons! (disclaimer: carons over S=okay, carons over C=HATEFUL!)

Stupid QuarkXpress, you non-caron lovin' whoooore!

My mother, the psycho.

My mom is crazy. This is not a revelation. This was a slow realization born over 32 years of life. Actually, the whole Rogowski family is a bit off, barely teetering on the brink of homicide as family members shout, cajole, demean, anger and, of course, guilt, one another in these tremendous dramas that play out daily.

I'm getting rather sick of it, to be quite frank. I used to think that having a crazy mom and a family of Catholic martyrs would make me more interesting, but really it's a tremendous drag.

My mom called me at 6:45 am to tell me that there's only 4 more days until my birthday.

A couple things:

1. Pre-9 am phone calls are reserved for horrible tragic events, such as death, dismemberment and incarceration. This is a rule that should not be broken for such frivolity.
2. No shit? My birthday's in FOUR days? Thanks mom...never woulda figured that one out. Now, back to my multiplication tables...2 x 2 = ?
3. Why the call IN THE FIRST PLACE? What is the grand importance of disturbing my sleep (remember, this is on a Monday morning, people) to tell me the fucking obvious?

I don't know what drives my mom to call people at such ungodly hours. This, of course, is not the first time. She's called me before at these hours to ask me such incredibly unimportant and full of crap questions like "I just bought a new Bose stereo...would you like my old one?"

OMG, WTF?!?!? I'm officially PWN3D by my mother and her O'dark-thirty phone calls. I was enraged this morning after I told her "sleeping, bye!" and hung up. I'm like "what the hell...does she have NO consideration for anyone else?" I would not call anyone at that hour in the morning for anything but (already covered, but let's revisit them again): death, dismemberment or incarceration.

I laid in bed for like 30 minutes, fuming, before I could fall asleep again, so I could wake up in an hour to go to work. Not only did my mom fuck up my sleep, I fucked up my own sleep by only getting another hour's worth of snooze time in...that's not even a full sleep cycle, so of course, I was mega-tired. And I'm overloaded at work this week...and I have to go to a Rockets game...and I have to celebrate my birthday...but thanks, mom, for letting me know my birthday is 4 days away at 6:45 am this morning. That was extremely helpful.

A great game, horrible commercials and the booby heard 'round the world!

Well, H-town put on one hell of a show. Oh, and two teams sure did play one heck of a football game. Congrats to the Pats, but Carolina has nothing to be ashamed of as Delhomme stepped up in the biggest game of his career and showed why he belongs to be a starting quarterback. I have to give both teams massive props for their efforts. One of the best, if not THE best, Super Bowl game played. I hope the quality of the game and the hospitality of Houston means we get put in the SB rotation...I think we deserve it.

Now, the commercials, that's another story. I think most companies spent their $2.3 million on the spot and had nothing left over to hire the creative talent necessary to put forth efforts worthy of the title of a "Super Bowl Commercial" because it was a sad bunch this year. When commercials appeal to the lowest common denominator of humor, like a crotch-biting dog and a gaseous horse, you know you're in for another dumbing down of "entertainment" for the purposes of getting a cheap laugh. Yay! Amurikins are dumb! Sigh...

And "Miss Jackson, if you're nasty"! The hell it wasn't a planned stunt. Nice try, JT, passing it off as a "wardrobe malfunction." What the hell is a wardrobe malfunction anyway? Is it like when a shoelace comes untied? I need some clarification on this one. If it was unintentional, why did JT reach over to pull something off and why did that bra-like thing give so easily? What was "supposed" to happen if this was one of those horrenous wardrobe malfunctions that plague the free world?

Oh my, this will be a debaucle for a while. Well, Houston is the titty bar mecca of the world, right? It's okay to have billboards all over the place with skanky, half-nekkid women on them as soccer moms speed down I-10 in their magnificently overwrought SUVs, but a little Janet Jackson booby on TV gets everyone in a tizzy. We live in a wonderfully hypocritical world, don't we? Not saying it was right, just saying, is all. Needless to say, I don't think MTV will be anywhere near a Super Bowl halftime show for the next, oh, 100 years or so. As if CBS didn't think the Madonna-Britney kiss on the MTV awards wasn't a harbinger of shocking things to come. They had a major case of their head up their asses on that one.