Praise Jesus and Pew Pew!

The hypocrisy of the left always hits it’s highest peak after a school shooting.

Sorry, but you don’t get to defend, flaunt, and celebrate the murderous dissection of 600,000 plus unborn babies a year (in the name of women’s rights) only to suddenly care about the lives of children after the horrendous acts of a few mentally ill mad men by calling for the legal disarmament of millions of peaceful Americans.

Your supposed political high ground is, in reality, a filthy cesspool at the bottom of a deep pit of immorality and depravity that gorges itself on bashing the morals and teachings of the Christian faith, and mocking Conservatives for their family values, and believing in honor, dignity, and personal responsibility.

You are on the wrong side of a spiritual war between the forces of good and evil. You’ve allowed yourselves to become pawns for the great deceiver. And the future has already been written. Satan loses, and unless you come to Jesus, you will lose with him.


Government Shutdown – An Eyewitness Report of Anarchy and Mayhem.

It’s the 3rd day of Government Shutdown.

The animals at Central Park have been released for lack of food and water and health insurance. They quickly turn the suburbs into a jungle where few dare tread.

Office workers, forgotten and chained to their desks, scream in desperation as they begin chewing their own arms off to free themselves.

Tens of thousands of Women “Marching for Rights They Already Have” in pink hats walk down the empty streets while bits of unsigned legislation blow by like tumbleweeds. They fall silent as no one listens or cares. Feminism dies a silent and long overdue death as their homemade signs fall by the wayside.

Politicians stand in line at the Capitol, empty Starbucks mugs trembling in thin, shaking hands as they beg for spare change, while awaiting their meager ration of watery gruel.

Makeshift Farmer Markets spring up in intersections. Lowly administrative aids quickly create massive lines to trade staplers and sticky notes for food. It quickly dissolves into chaos as the few pitiful sprigs of bean sprouts are consumed by the vegans.

Blood sucking Accountants and Lawyers face off against each other for control of the high rises. They begin hunting each other with makeshift weapons. Skinned bodies are soon found dangling from street lamps with empty wallets hanging from their necks and business cards crammed between clenched teeth.

Two bums begin fighting over a half-eaten Big Mac. The fight ends violently when Donald Trump strangles Chuck Schumer to death with his own tie. Bloodied but victorious, Trump holds the burger aloft, screaming in joy, only to be overcome by the screeching bureaucrats who pour out from the nearby sewer drains and smother him with red tape.

The Postal Service begins looting local police departments. They mount weapons, spikes, armor, and the heads of Barbie Doll  on their vehicles and drive down sidewalks. As fuel runs out, they soon turn on each other.

World War Two vets, refusing to allow the sacred ground that holds their memorials to be blocked off with barricades and orange cones of the Obama Administration, set up fighting positions and a steady stream of aimed fire from M1 Garands and Thompson machine guns surrounds them with a no man’s land 500 yards deep.

More Vets, bearded and grizzled, ride their iron steeds of Harley-Davidson through the yellow tape surrounding the Vietnam Memorial and begin covering their faces and arms with camo paint. Hundreds of rolls of barb wire is deployed to funnel the denizens of Washington into kill zones. Dozens of men in Biker Vests slip into the concrete jungle to begin taking ears.

The city turns in upon itself.

Bits of ash from burned regulations rain from the sky. The steady stream of screams grow faint as the mounds of unburied dead grow. Only the mournful wails of the living and the screams of freed zoo predators can be heard at night.

A torn and tattered American Flag waves silently in the breeze above the Capital Building as it burns.

The Lincoln Memorial weeps a single manly tear.

15 minutes in the life of a Snowflake. (A Short Story of Lunacy)


It was just another beautiful day of impending doom and gloom.

The evil Capitalist Industrial Complex pumped out trillions of pounds of carbon into the air, drilled mercilessly into the earth mothers crust to exploit her black blood of the earth and precious minerals. Meanwhile numerous cute, defenseless, furry, woodland creatures were slaughtered by backwoods, uneducated, rednecks without teeth and family genealogy problems. Earth was dying, and we were the cause. The beautiful summer flowers would soon wilt away and die. If Global Warming didn’t freeze them first, the acid rain from industrial pollution, or the rapidly depleting ozone layer from aerosol cans would eventually get them. Or the loss of the pink butt bullfrog’s natural habitat would destroy the fragile ecosystem that has remained unchanged for millions of years and kill us all. If only Al Gore had been elected back in 2000 instead of that dumb cowboy!

But instead of worrying about Earth and future generations, all the extreme right-wingers could think about was their precious jobs and tax cuts and border wall and stock market records. Fools. They elected Trump, and everyone knows the stock market is going to crash because of him. It’s just taking a little longer than CNN said it would.

But it’s too late now.

It was all stupid America’s fault, if only we hadn’t backed out of the Paris Accords. Then we could have reduced earths global warming by 0.00001 degrees per year. But instead America was pushing its imperialist will over everyone else and bullying them with undeserved might. Why couldn’t we be more like Europe or Canada? Prime Minister Trudeau was such a great man, at least he knew we could rehabilitate jihadists to be an extraordinarily powerful voice for the Muslim community. He was the beacon of hope that we no longer had.

Stepping past a large silver pickup, I intentionally dragged my keys down the side of it. Gas guzzlers were the bane of vehicular existence. Probably a stupid Trumpkin anyways. I huffed. He wasn’t my President. What a bozo. Obama was like, a gazillion times greater. He was a man of the people. He cared, he resonated, he even cried about things that he was passionate about.

I felt like we were very similar. I was passionate, and I cried a lot also. All the time.

Usually I wept for our future, where transgenders weren’t welcome in the military, where racist bigoted celebrities could be President, where Health Care wasn’t treated as a basic human right, where entire families of immigrants were deported behind an iron wall of hatred, where Radical Islam was considered the biggest threat instead of Russian Collusion or a Republican controlled Congress. Or where we couldn’t get rid of unwanted fetuses. They were just clumps of cells. Like removing a tumor or something. And if conservatives weren’t going to pay for them to be taken care of after they are born, who are they to act so high and mighty about killing them? They just wanted them to starve or not be able to read good or learn how to do other stuff really good too. Besides, they believe in corporal punishment. And everyone knows you should ask a child’s consent before you punish them, hold them, or hug them. Bunch of hypocritical child abusers is what they are.

There was always something to cry or be passionate about.

I kicked the trucks bumper for good measure, but my Birkenstocks didn’t do any damage. They just made my exposed toes hurt as I stubbed them.

I straightened my safety pin on my fashionable $40 Che Guevara T-shirt and reminded myself that I am a refuge of safety and dignity. There is strength in me, and I won’t be silenced or intimidated. The world was full of injustice, and I was a social justice warrior.

Then I saw it.

Someone had tried to peel it away, but I could still make out the large H and the “I’m With” lettering on the arrow that pointed to the side. The sticker was faded and torn, and Hillary’s name was almost unrecognizable. Yet, like her, it persisted.

Just like I also persisted.

I felt my lower chin begin to tremble, and my eyes start to water.

I forced myself to blink back the tears instead of giving in to them. I couldn’t break down now, I had to get to class. My Gender Studies in the Homosexual Community was my favorite class, my teacher inspired me. I copied her look with short purple hair, bright make-up, torn fish net stockings, and facial rings. I made sure I projected a strong feminist presence. I only wish I wasn’t a white male. I was the very thing that I hated so much. The archetype of racist and masculine evil. No wonder my parents didn’t understand me. They were white, heterosexual, and Christian. They were the absolute worst!

Averting my eyes from the peeling bumper sticker, I hurried. Holding the strap to my environmentally friendly hemp backpack tighter, I skirted around the homeless baby-murdering vet sleeping in a cardboard box as I made my way down the street. He was curled in a ball, sleeping, with an American Flag folded neatly beside a small donation can. I kicked it out of spite and it skittered into a puddle. I sniffed in righteous indignation, it served him right, he fought for oil. That meant he was just another one of George Bush’s peaceful Muslim murdering savages. Weapons of Mass Destruction, I harrumphed, G. Dumb. Bush was a weapon of mass destruction to the Iraqi People. He should be executed for War Crimes against Human Decency.

A man was walking the other way, swaying with toxic masculinity while texting on his phone. He was dressed casually, in jeans and black t-shirt. His hair was cut and slicked back, with slight stubble covering his chin. He was looking down at his phone when our shoulders grazed slightly as I tried to dodge out of the way. I squealed, and he muttered an apology before glancing up at me. We locked eyes for a moment. His mouth dropped open slightly before he squinted in confusion and quickly turned to walk away. It must be my exposed man breast and nipple pasty, of course he wouldn’t get it. He looked like the typical cis-gendered male, all arrogance and cockiness. I was gender fluid, so today I chose to show solidarity with feminists. I was especially proud of my eye liner, I watched a dozen YouTube videos on how to apply it perfectly.

I sneered after him before pulling out my brand new Iphone-X. It was the latest model and cost me over a thousand dollars. I used my Student Loans to pay for it. That’s what they are for anyways, to cover necessities. It was such a shame these weren’t free from the Government, stupid greedy Capitalists. Cell Phones were a basic human right.

I pulled up the app and quickly sent out a tweet:

Men are such pigs. #metoo #Oprah4POTUS #CheetoPrez

That would get plenty of attention. I couldn’t wait to see how many of my online friends liked it. I hoped it would go viral. Maybe Ellen DeGeneres would interview me, and I could talk about how I was nearly assaulted and disrespected on the street in the broad daylight. I started day dreaming about how I would make it sound more confrontational when I told the story and what I would have said to put that creep in his place and draw attention to our cause. I needed to practice my dance moves tonight just in case. She always danced on her show.

Then my phone pinged, and I saw I had an email from one of my professors.

It was an invitation to protest the latest conservative speaker on campus. Anyone who signed the attendance sheet being passed around would get extra credit! I don’t know why they kept trying to speak, no one wanted to hear what they had to say. They just came here to cause trouble. Bunch of ignorant mouth breathers. Last time I made sure that I stood at the front of the protest, so everyone could see me. I even hit a police officer with a dildo. That showed him. But then I got a rubber bullet to the groin, and while I considered myself a female that day, it still hurt. I threw up on my pink vagina hat. It still smelled bad. But I would be there, because I persisted!

As I passed one of the dorms, I inadvertently saw the poster through the window and it hit me like an emotional pile of bricks.

The familiar red, white, and blue poster with HOPE in bold words at the bottom. Obama, gazing towards the future with his strong and fearless gaze. I thought of the clown in office, his orange skin and clownish hair swept back, and his foul mouth and disrespectful attitude towards my African-American, Transgendered, Homosexual, Mexican-Islamic family. The internment camps he was probably having built right now, to round them up and deport them. His law enforcement thugs preparing lists of innocent children to deport. His cronies stacking their gold like Scrooge McDuck while I made $7.25 an hour flipping burgers. How was I supposed to survive on that? How dare they not pay me $15, or even $20 an hour! A wage you can live on is another basic human right! I have $40,000 in student loans I must pay back! Bernie Sanders would have forgiven them!

I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I started running for the nearest Safe Space. But it was so far away! Why weren’t they everywhere?

The unfairness of it all overwhelmed me and dropping to my knees, I bawled. The hot, salty tears rolled down my face and I could feel my mascara running into my mustache.

But I felt no shame, I was a refuge of strength and dignity against the injustice of America. My safety pin protest proved that. Expressing emotion just meant I was more ‘woke’ than everyone else.

Turning my face upwards, I clenched my fists and screamed my social justice warrior rage at the sky.

Being Rich isn’t EVIL and they pay more than their ‘Fair Share’.

The Socialist Snowflake Party of America (SSPA!) loves to vilify the rich, it’s like the ultimate boogeyman.

“Better eat your peas or the 1% will come and take them!”

“If you don’t graduate college with a degree in Gender Fluidity from Unwashed Hippy University, you’re going to wash dishes for the Top 1%!”

“The Top 1% has more than we, so we musts hates them! Hssssss…..” (In Gollum’s voice.)

Of course the leaders of SSPA are all part of the 1%. Every Liberal/Progressive/Celebrity/Media Talking Head buffoon/Race Baiting cretin who champions the notion of Income Redistribution and pushes Class Warfare is living the rich and famous lifestyle they bash.

What I mean by Income Redistribution is usually framed as taking from the rich and giving to the poor. That’s how they like to spin it, like it’s a noble Robin Hood type action. To get the support of the masses, they push Class Warfare, which is pitting different socioeconomic segments of the population against each other. Essentially turning all the low and middle classes against the supposedly ‘super’ wealthy. (Who are bad)

First off – Who are the EVIL 1%? Usually you think of billionaires and super mega millionaires. Snobs who wreck Lambo’s, fly on private airplanes to their own islands, and creepy Harvey Weinstein looking goons who marry a twenty year old for ‘love’.

Meh. Not really – The Top 1%, are people who make above $390,000 a year.  That’s not a lofty goal by any means. Sure, probably more than you or I make, but not out of reach for smart/capable/driven folks who are willing to work hard, take risks, lose often, and grab life by the blueberries until they eventually prevail or die broke and penniless trying. By the way, If you’re a college kid – it also helps to not rack up $50,000 in student loans on a worthless progressive degree like Feminism or Gay Culture. (Your future will consist facial rings, pink hair, and asking me if I want fries with that.)

But 400k a year can be done. I’ve mentioned Ben Carson before, he’s my favorite example of rags to riches. Mother was a single mom, illiterate house cleaner, with a third grade education, living in the slums of Detroit. Using a public library, she pushed her son to become one of the greatest brain surgeons in history, the first to perform a neurosurgical operation on a baby in the womb, and separate brain-joined twins. Worth a cool 30 million now. (Did I mention he was black? No? That’s because it doesn’t freaking matter!)

Also, Debt/Income ratio is more important than just Income. $400k a year ain’t worth squat if you bills rack up to $350+k a year. (Kind of like those people who live in a single wide trailer but have a $50,000+ Dodge Hellcat in their parking spot. Priorities, right?)  But 100k a year is pretty sweet if you’re bills are only 20k a year. Debt/Income ratio – Learn it, live it, and love it. Because even if you can’t make it to the Top 1%, you can actually live pretty well if you aren’t fiscally dumb. 

Would I like to be in the Top 1%? Darn tootin’. Will I? Well let’s see, a writer typically makes about 68 cents per paperback book. Soo.. even with my day job… Probably not. Unless I start writing about sparkly romantic vampires or little orphan nerds with wizardry abilities. But I digress…

Ultimately – the concept of Class Warfare against the ‘EVIL’ Top 1% is stupid. It’s petty jealously, based on greed and envy that politicians push to get votes and power. There is nothing wrong with people making more money than you. (Income is no guarantee of happiness anyways)

Now lets look at taxes real quick and who pays how much.

Top 1% – Pay 45.7% of ALL income Taxes.

Top 20% – Pay 84% of ALL income Taxes(This includes the Top 1% above)

Bottom 80% – Pay 15% of ALL income Taxes(This includes the Bottom 60% below)

Bottom 60% – Pay 2% of ALL income Taxes.

The notion that ‘the Top 1% don’t day their fair share’ is a bunch of crap. You just saw the figures. They pay more than YOU! They practically fund half of the government and half of the welfare recipients.

But these goobers are always out there, trying to turn people against the rich. “They are OPPRESSORS of the people!” “You work HARD so they can line THEIR POCKETS with the fruits of YOUR LABOR!”  “If you’ve got a business – you didn’t build that, someone else did!”(Obama – 2012) “You make minimum wage while the CEO makes millions!” (Well – YOU flip burgers while he runs a massive business and has stock holders/chairmen/employees to please and support. Not to mention, if he fails you won’t have a job. Soo….)

A perfect example is ‘Philanthropist’ Bernie Sanders:

“A nation will not survive morally or economically when so few have so much and so many have so little!” – Bernie Sanders

(While slamming his fist on the podium, screaming in rage, spittle flying from is mouth, to the cheers of millions of fiscal fools – Like the Clip from The Office below)

(I had to put this in – If you aren’t an Office fan, shame on you. But Dwight has a fear of public speaking and was given a speech made up of various Dictator quotes for his ‘Salesman of the Year’ acceptance speech as a prank.)

Back on subject – DOOM! We are all DOOMED because people have different amounts of STUFF!

…Say’s the Senator whose base pay starts at $174,000 plus all the expensive free perks that comes with the job. And here’s the kicker, on average he works THREE DAYS A WEEK.

Tell me more, oh Great Supreme Leader Of the Socialist Masses, about Income Inequality. You don’t even work 40 hours a week but own THREE houses.


Then we have these ‘Patriotic Millionaires’ who put together  a video ad crying out against the GOP Tax Cuts, because they think they don’t deserve more of their own money. I’m gonna catalog this under the same file as ‘Dumb White People who Ask For Forgiveness For Being White’. It’s self-loathing to the Nth degree. It’s pathetic. “Ooohhh look at me, I’m a bad rich guy whose gonna put my tax cut money into the stock market and hurt poor people.” Ugh! I’m fine with you saying that, but it had better be with an evil cackle at the end of it. I’ll respect that, but this? It’s just… undignified.

I guess no one has told them that Taxes are simply a legally mandated MINIMUM.  Since you guys are so socially conscious(I think the cool kids call it ‘woke’), feel free to send more in. But we all know you won’t.

But take heart folks – that video above is simply proof that anyone can make it into the Top 1%, even if you are stupid.

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