pee pee poo poo

The YouTube algorithm sucks sometimes. When you search certain people, you can’t rid their videos from your recommendations.

Bart D Ehrman, the distinguished James Gray professor of religious studies at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, is one such person. Not that I hate Ehrman, quite the contrary. The man knows the Bible better than anyone. But I don’t find the subject of “God’s existence” to be particularly interesting.

Nevertheless, I watched him debate this with a professional snake oil salesman named Kyle Butt. The subject they were specifically debating was “God and suffering”. Ehrman’s fans swear up and down that he won the debate, but no one “wins” a debate. Everyone loses (and, sorry to say Christians, but agnostics/atheists have the much easier argument).

But I’m always intrigued by how the “problem of morality” gets tossed around like a hot potato in a debate. Maybe I’ve spent too much time of Twitter and Reddit forums, but it feels that in our political climate that all sides wish to enter into a “post moral” phase where one can gain points by accusing their opponent of “moralizing”. However, I have never once found this to be convincing.

Mostly because it makes no fucking sense. Even if we move past “good and evil”, new social mores become established which sets up a whole other paradigm of morality.

When viewed in this political climate, the Ehrman/Butt debate seems outdated (it took place in 2014). Butt believed that there are objective platonic forms of morality established by God of the Bible, while Ehrman simply took a sublime, “know right/wrong when I see it” approach. Naturally, I agreed with Ehrman (even though I didn’t find it philosophically consistent).

But I think what Ehrman was trying (or should have) focused on was the power of empathy in understanding the conditions of our fellow humans. From my understanding, empathy is a real scientifically falsifiable phenomenon that everyone (except psychopaths) feels. HOWEVER, the power of ideology does everything it can to undermine this.

Ideology can take many forms, from personal, to political, to religious.

In my view, individualist ideology, propagated by consumer culture, is the most prevalent. In fact, it even lays the foundation for current political/religious ideologies. When viewed in this light, it makes sense why online atheists and the Christian Right are suddenly bedfellows: Christians can rest easy knowing that God is invested in their individual lives, and the fate and suffering of everyone else is in His hands. And atheists become unburdened in believing that there’s a moralistic force binding the universe together, and can instead focus on their own truths.

Either way, they don’t have to show concern over the suffering of their fellow humans.

I guess that’s another reason why everyone wants to jump on the “post moral” train.

writing sucks

You know what else I hate?

Time.

Whoever came up with the laws of the physics needs to pull their head out their ass. Between being a dad and full time alcoholic, I just don’t have time for anything!

But what would really help me is if some genius would invent something that could read my mind and write down what I think. I don’t give a damn about things called “ethics” or “privacy”. I just hate writing.

But anyways, I’m getting sidetracked with other projects that will hopefully see the light of day (probably won’t). So if you think I’ve been phoning it in lately, you ain’t seen nothing yet.

God bless 🙏

lost in the supermarket

“Ever wanted to do more?” some commercial by a for-profit university asked me.

Actually, I’ve always wanted to do LESS.

I can’t even watch ASMR without some jackass telling me that I’ve got 40lbs of excess shit in my bowels. Is that something I should be worried about? I already spend enough of my life on a toilet.

“Wanna invest in crypto?”

No thanks. Sports betting seems like a lot cooler way to lose money.

“Use my promo code to get one month free at Manscaped.com!”

Since when did men start shaving their balls?

Do people actually find this shit revolutionary or liberating? Any limp dick bastard with enough cash and a camera can convince enough people that some halfassed product manufactured from a sweatshop in Juarez is worth your hard earned money.

So why don’t you try sending some of that money my way?

Download my ebook for $599.99 today! 👍

respect for Blippi

Anyone have a toddler?

So my wife got disturbed at the actor who plays Blippi, a YouTube character for kids.

“What? Did he do gay porn? Every guy has done gay porn (not me of course, I’ve never had sex),” I asked my wife.

“No. I don’t want to say. Just google it.”

So I did.

And I was glad I did. Because apparently the actor once played another character called “steezy grossman” where he made gross out videos. In one such video, he poops all over his friend.

“But it makes sense for him to poop on his friend,” I told my wife. “According to Wikipedia, the character was born as poop because his parents had anal sex. Don’t you understand art? Idiot.”

Apparently parents were pissed off about this. I don’t see what the problem is.

Has everyone forgotten about Jackass?

A dude goes into a hardware store and shits in a display toilet. It was hilarious. And if that dude started a children’s show on YouTube nowadays, no one would bat an eye!

I applaud Blippi (whatever the actor’s name). My son loves the guy. He’s got versatility.

He’s got skill, talent, a natural performer. None of us have the balls to do what he did (and does).

Freaky Deaky Saturday

Sorry about this story everyone 😢

“Shut up bitch!” I said.

Then she kicked me in the nuts with her pointed toe stilettos.

As I writhing in pain on the floor, Susan stood over me and said “I’m getting that job you limp dick bastard! Not you, not the board, not anyone can stand in my way!”

Susan stormed off and all my coworkers stood around. “I’m fine,” I said. “She barely knicked my ball sack.”

I crawled back to my office and shut the door. I took the bottle of vodka out of the refrigerator and placed it on my crotch. Bob Dickenburg came in laughing.

“Susan’s a firecracker isn’t she!” he said.

“To put it mildly,” I replied.

“Look, don’t worry about her,” Bob continued. “The board loves your work. You’re definitely getting that job.”

“I better. I’m gonna have to pay for scrotal surgery soon,” I said. I then lifted the bottle of vodka to my mouth.

“Well, we’re gonna announce the promotion on Monday. Go home, enjoy your weekend, and don’t worry yourself over it.”

I nodded to Bob as I swallowed the vodka. I didn’t get much work done that Friday afternoon. I got too drunk.

As I roared my Ferrari back home, almost hitting several motorists, I accidentally plowed my vehicle into a hooded figure. I grabbed my beer and exited the car to check on the person.

The figure laid on the ground, body parts were completely mangled. I kicked his side.

“Hey buddy, are you alright?” I asked.

The figure sat up and snapped his limbs back together. It was disgusting. Finally he stood up and removed the hood.

The man appeared to be blind. I figured that’s why he was standing in the middle of the road. He was ancient, like a warlock.

“You shouldn’t drink and drive,” the man said.

“Oh it’s okay, I’m rich.”

He then lifted his hands to my face and began chanting something in Latin, Greek, or some bullshit I didn’t understand. After standing there for a few moments, he lowered his hands and slowly wondered off.

“You don’t want any money out of my wallet?” I asked.

He didn’t reply.

I finished driving home. I stripped off my clothes, climbed in between the sheets, and fell fast asleep.

When I awoke the next morning, I wasn’t hungover. I also didn’t have rock hard morning wood. Something was amiss.

I sat up in bed and didn’t recognize the room. It was a woman’s room.

A nude man with a rubber mask came crawling in on all fours. He stood up, his partially erect penis inches from my face, and he handed over a cock cage.

“I’ve been a bad boy mommy,” he said.

“Mommy?”

I stood up and looked in the mirror. And there she was: her tall slender frame, small perky breast, and that stern resting bitch face.

I was Susan.

Or, more precisely, I was in Susan’s body. And presumably she was in mine.

“That fucking warlock,” I thought. “I hope Susan doesn’t look at my penis.”

I looked over to the nude man. “Sorry bro, I ain’t gay,” I said. I then threw on some clothes and sped over to my own apartment, expecting to find Susan in my body.

I stormed into my room, and there was me, or rather Susan as me, sitting prim and proper and drinking coffee.

“Look Susan,” I said, “I know that all of this is weird. But we can undo this. There’s a warlock I know that can put us back into our own bodies. Let’s go!”

“Why would I want to do that?” she, as me, asked.

“Well you’re me. I’m you. You know….”

“But I know that you’re the one getting that promotion. Or rather…I’M the one getting that promotion.”

“Susan, we don’t have time for this shit. We need to be looking for this warlock.”

(S)he took a drink of the coffee and slowly put the cup down. “I’ll cut you a deal,” (s)he said. “I’ll help you find this warlock, but first we should take time to appreciate this situation.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve done fellatio before, sure. But I’ve never had MY dick sucked…” (s)he said.

My heart began to sink.

“Will you suck my dick?” (s)he asked. “Or rather…will you suck YOUR dick?

TO BE CONTINUED

100 Girls: was that—a movie?

Kids forget, but there was a time before 9/11.

No one’s proud of it. But it happened.

Evidence for such a decade is the 2000 film 100 Girls. It’s hard to believe they used to make movies like that.

The plot’s pretty simple: some dude in college loses his virginity in an elevator like it’s some big deal. Then he spends the rest of the movie looking for this mystery girl in a dormitory.

His roommate also has a fucked up penis.

If this was a typical boner comedy, it probably would have been standard background noise.

You see, discussions on the differences between men and women used to be “interesting” to people. Not to me though. I thought girls were just boys with vaginas and left it at that. I would know because I’ve definitely seen a vagina. But 20 years ago, people didn’t know that.

So there were things like The Man Show, Kevin Smith films, American Pie, etc. The difference is though, occasionally those things would be funny.

100 Girls attempts to elevate the formula. And the moral of the story is this:

“Girls have boobs. But did you they also have personality? What a revelation!”

*Cue Bowling For Soup.

So be thankful that you live in a time of terrorism, pandemics, catastrophic climate change, massive wealth inequality, and dying democracies.

At least it isn’t the 90’s.

phoning it in again

So I was in the bathroom at the bus station when an employee banged on the door.

“Hey buddy,” I said. “Do you mind? I’m trying to beat off!”

“Sorry sir,” the employee replied. “But I have a message here from your mother.”

So I opened the door with my pants around my ankles. The message read:

Dear son,

Please don’t come home for Christmas. Your cousin Megan is here and she told me some troubling things about you.

Love,

Your Mom

So I pulled up my pants and went to the front counter.

“Can’t take your ticket back, sir. All sales are final,” the employee said.

I turned around and the janitor was harassing a homeless woman, accusing her of clogging the toilet.

“That was me sir,” I told the janitor. “I blew up the toilet in the women’s bathroom.”

“You have one cursed ass sir,” he replied.

The woman walked up to me. “Thank you for taking the blame,” she said. “I just wish that they’d give me a ticket so I could get out of this godforsaken place.”

I handed her my ticket. “Merry Christmas,” I said. “Today’s your lucky day.”

“Oh, no thank you,” she said. “I don’t want to go to Reno, Nevada.”

playin the hits

“You got ass cancer,” the doctor said.

“How long do I got, doc?”

“It’s not terminal. We can remove the cancer here in my office.”

“What’s the procedure?”

“Just drop your pants and I’ll shove this device up your rectum.”

“You sure it’ll work?”

“Sure it will! I’m a real doctor.”

So I dropped my pants and spread my ass cheeks. Then a man walked in the room.

“Gentlemen, you need to leave,” the man said. “This is an AutoZone.”