Blog Wars: Fighting Jaundiced Journalism

For those of you who don't know, my roommate shot me an unprovoked request to start a blog war, so I find a quite ironic that when I sent the first attack, I have to hear (see on his shitty blog) his irrational bitching, out-of-context attacks and blatant yellow journalism.

Typically, I don't respond to such unqualified statements regardless of accusatory severity, but this is a special case. I'm relatively new to the blogosphere and I deem it vital to clear my name this one time to send a message to my readers that I will not back down to Ken Ham and Rush Limbaugh wannabes.

Last night my roommate raised a comment and a question for his alter ego, Fartpennies, who I will refer to as Penny from here on out - Canadian penny nonetheless undergoing severe inflation - since that is the relative monetary value of his thoughts. "Jake," Nick said probably because Penny is too much of a pussy to address me in person, "People read my blog because it's fun and makes them happy." The implication is implied. Sorry Penny, if you want a pattycake, cookycutter blog about arts and crafts or celebrities or other reality distracting supplements, go masturbate to BillboardJen or CupofJo or your own Vomit.

I write for myself and if you actually read my blog, you'd know I explicitly stated this in prior posts. I'm not sorry I write about deep, unpleasant topics (only to certain Perez-loving mentalities) that touch on subject matter that most people want to avoid because they'd rather live in a sense of ignorance-is-bliss denial.

Penny followed his comment with the following question: "So you aren't going to respond?" The implication is implied. "Sorry [Penny]." "I'm not a fucking pussy Democrat afraid to throw a little heat. I'm a fucking registered Independent, which means I don't play by whatever rules you live by."

I'm going to arrange my rebuttal in three parts:

#)A verbatim accusation from Penny's blog
Truth) My refutation to the accusation
Duh) State an objectively identified hypocrisy relevant to the accusation

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1) Self righteous 10 paragraph rants about religion, politics, and other dumb shit.

An use of language/phrases that goes past dickish and right onto being in love with owning a thesaurus.

Truth) If you actually read my blog instead of (Sean) 'cherry-picking quotes' (Hannity),' you'd realize that this self-righteousness you speak of is actually a pragmatic sense of equality. Take this quote for instance, "I might scoff at the absurdity of religion, but I absolutely do not blame you in your practice to overcome the universal fear of nonexistence." When did it become self-righteous to form an opinion, but acknowledge the validity of the other side as well? As far as my vocabulary, there is an important difference between, "being in love with owning a thesaurus," and the truth. See my thesaurus is in my fucking head and I'm proud of my extensive vocabulary imparted from years of reading. When discussing in a philosophical or scientific context, large words are imperative because as I have stated previously, linguistics are frequently being misinterpreted. Therefore, complex (only to certain Perez-loving mentalities) words are necessary to define as specific meaning as possible as to avoid further ambiguity. However, I mostly use large words as a platform for humor because it's funny to use words such as paradoxicist, which if you were at all well-read you'd realize this didn't come from a thesaurus, but was completely made-up by yours truly, then talk about your (Penny) fuck-pot erection.

Duh) Penny you say I'm self-righteous, but look at this piece of hate (literally) - filled rhetoric taken from your blog. "I've decided that I really don't like most people."

"...and other dumb shit," you say. Is it dumb to touch on the very nature of reality? Or, is it dumb to post about such topics as Showerbation? I'm not going to answer this question because dumb is an arbitrary meaning humans attach to experience, but I will let my readers decide for themselves.

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2) I'm sure he'll knock the fact that I believe capitalism is a good thing.

Truth) Come on Penny, don't insult me, my readers AND your readers with your assumptive logical fallacies. Didn't Steven Segal ever teach you anything in Under Siege 2: Dark Territory starring Steven Segal when Steven Segal says, "Assumptions are the mother's of all fuck-ups? Since, according to your assumption, I never said this, I'm not going to specifically refute it.

Duh) Duh will come with Penny's attack on my profession

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3) I happen to know what that shit for brains does for his own job...cleans up pollution caused by companies/governments/etc. You can tell tell that he thinks his shit doesn't stink because he's "helping the world" or some bullshit. Let me ask you this, when a company pollutes the groundwater somewhere and there is a public outcry what are the choices? By continually cleaning up after these messes your allowing the very companies you rail against to continue doing what they've done previously.

Truth) Anyone who is close to me knows that I continually stress that I am NOT an environmentalist, but work for a very business-oriented, profit-driven company that provides various environmental services. Do I have a sense of elitism over say investment bankers in terms of environmental altruism and human secularism? Absolutely. I know unequivocally that what I do has more of a direct positive effect and I do feel a sense of pride when making critical decisions that result in increasing amounts of diesel fuel being removed from the Chicago River.

Duh) Penny, your oversimplification about somehow being responsible in perpetuating poor management of production, which results in continued pollution is just hilarious. I'm not a fucking Sierra Club Dbag. I simply provide a service that is in-demand because of environmental law. Remember your love for capitalism? Good or bad, it is capitalism that allows these companies to continue their most cost-effective approach in reducing environmental impact, regardless of long-term detriment.

If you want to blame someone, blame legislatures for our lackadaisical environmental regulations. Guess what though Penny? Guess what happens when you over-regulate? See when you continue to penalize companies for environmental related issues, they lose profits and in poor economic times such as these, they go insolvent. (I know you have issues with big words... insolvent is an inability to pay debts, but guess what? I'm not going to act like you and claim expertise from the arm-chair. I know you are in financial services so you probably know all about insolvency).

So let's say the EPA continues to penalize an irresponsible mine for discharging heavy metals into a river. The mine can't afford to pay these fines, goes insolvent, becomes abandoned and turns into a Superfund site. A Superfund site is typically an area of severe pollution that has been abandoned and is no longer claimed by any party. I also clean these sites Penny. See this is where Environmental Pragmatism, NOT just Environmental(ISM) comes into play. To somehow claim that the services I offer lead to continued pollution is another example of your fetish for logical fallacies that you presumably Showerbate to in your screamingly loud manner.

SUPERFUND SITE

via Penny

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I could go on for days, but I need to do some work. (I'm working from home today biatches.. eat it! Actually it's not all it's cracked up to be. I'll probably do about 10 hrs of work, but only charge 7.5 because my productivity at home is inversely proportional to Penny's masturbatory decibel-level.

4) I don't dislike consumerism. However, my roommate is ready to go purchase a $40 winter hat from Urban Outfitters because it has a picture of a donkey fucking on it. A waste of money, not to mention totally classless.

Truth) Penny you don't dislike consumerism, but you just chose not to get involved? (And NICK, I told you about the fucking reindeer hat in confidence...dick..) Ok the $40 winter hat was actually kind of a response to Penny purchasing a $10 ugly sweater. I justified buying this hat with the following points:

Duh)

1) It makes much more sense for me to purchase an ugly (I love what most people view as ugly) $40 hat and wear it almost everyday this winter and perhaps next than for Penny to purchase a $10 sweater and only wear it once. Using his logic, our respective knit apparel is worth $10/use. Therefore, if I wear my hat 90 days this winter.

90 days x $10/use x 1 use/day = $900. $40 initial price - $900 Penny Logic = -$860. Urban

Outfitters is actually going to pay me $860 to wear a knit moose-humping hat this winter.

2) I consider myself a minimalist. I don't own a tv. I don't own a computer (I do have a work computer) I don't own a stereo.. dvd player.. In fact, the State Farm lady was pushing renter's insurance on me yesterday and I told her what my possessions were. She agreed it wasn't necessary. She's in sales and basically said she wasn't going to sell me insurance because I had nothing worth insuring. GREAT feeling. So I like to spend my money on travel, food and if I want to buy a perceived ugly hat for $40, well I damn well will and will have no guilt. Not only will it protect my head from the cold, but I'm also pumping money into our struggling economy.

I think I will buy it out of spite now. Please comment on whether I should buy it or not and remember, the more you say it's ugly and I shouldn't, the more I will want to buy it. Let the psychological war begin

What are you pumping into our economy Penny?

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I want to state for the record that I love this guy:

Nick is a great roommate, we share many of the same views and get along quite well. Nick if you really did have a dog Jake (like most people do), even though I have no evidence to indicate this, I'm sure he is somewhere humping away in the spiritual dog-ether.

Fartpenny, on the other hand, well, you judge for yourself:

Penny I am done warring with you. Life is too short for Perez-Hilton type drama. I... (this is hard for me).... I... I... love you

Odds & Ends & Breakfast Chili & Self-Inflicted Sore Throats & Sabbath Tequila & Perpetual Snot Drip.... oh and the...

Perceived Genetic Predisposition within the Construct of Patterned Social Recognition

Que cryptic sequiturs...

Why is it taboo to allow snot that comes out your nose to enter your mouth, yet no one blinks an eye at the volumes of mucous that is swallowed through post-nasal drip? Just curious. Do you think the farmer's blow is underrated? If you do not utilize the farmer's blow, you are destroying the environment! In fact, there is a strong correlation between tissue use and your responsibility in causing 911, just like smoking grass supports terrorism. Free Cuervo must never be turned down, even on Sunday. You are not considered gay for getting a blue curacao margarita, Jen! You are not considered straight for getting a liter Bud heavy. Breakfast chili after a weekend of Sex Jello is never a good idea. Is it just me or is it that every time someone is sick it is "going around?" When is it not going around?

There was a veritable orgy of Fart's Spooge at the Cellar (synonymous w/ 1040 w. school coined by JM and Fart) this last weekend.

via Fartpennies (arguably worst blog in blogosphere)

Much to the chagrin of Fart, I suggested that we have a monthly Sex Jello social gathering. Not that anyone can even think of consuming any more Bill Cosby's, but why not create a little tradition amongst friends? He's still pissed off that every time we have guests I somehow manage to avoid the dank (cellar) until he can't stand the (probably mostly his anyway) filth and ends up cleaning solo. Just fucking great. I have another whiny ultra-liberal corrupt insurance selling roommate. That is what you do, right Fart? You sell insurance for expensive umbrellas? Nice job. Way to give back to society. Fart always goes on these nonsensical rants about the evils of mass consumerism, yet, I'm pretty sure insurance is considered to be within the financial services industry. Fart I think you’ve been consuming too much of your own (1:1 water:vodka) Spooge. Just great. If it’s not narcissistic hegeministic neocons, it’s ultra-liberal paradoxicists. Blatant hypocrisy aside, I’ve uncovered concrete evidence illustrating Fart’s hatred for old people. It’s NOT a slippery slope to conclude Fart also hates children, especially babies, and most likely Jews as well. He also masturbates absurdly loud and his favorite self-love, love-nest is the living room. If you don’t believe me ask him for yourself. And… the kicker…!!

The other night I was having a drink on the cellar couch when I got the urge to check the B-sphere. Unfortunately my computer was not within my critical radius (the area in which something is reachable without getting up), but oh, there was Fart’s computer. So unassuming me, whistling and drinking without an apparent care in the world, opens his computer and discovered it is pass protected. “Fart! (Fart is actually only Fart’s cyber name) What’s your password?” Fart was in the kitch preparing something presumably awful. “Jake!” Fart replied over the superfluous noise created by someone obviously trying to get attention. “What?!” Pre-innocence. “Jake. My password is Jake.” Post-innocence. Now the actual elapsed time is much greater than the time the following thought took to evolve, but this type of situation transcends the concept of physical time.

The moment of flattery that never really existed with Fart using my name as his computer password was shattered by the matter-of-factness tone of his voice when saying my name. Had he said, “Jake,” then laughed, it would have been awkward, but somewhat humorous as Fart tends to be. Horrifyingly, he just said it straight-faced and monotone as he continued to preoccupy himself with unnecessary clanging and presumably rub his Ted Kaczynski-esque fuck-pot erection against the counter to the thought of ‘Jake," (me).

Before absolute fright set in, I decided to input jake into the password box to see if he was messin around. He’s known to mess around. j… a… k… e… … *ACCESS DENIED* The sense of relief I felt can only be described as forgetting to buy milk for your cereal then discovering you have JUST enough. So my roomy wasn't insane after all. “Wait...” I told myself in a cynical tone. ‘J’… a… k… e… *ACCESS GRANTED* NOOOOOOOOO!!! Holy Jebus I’m living with a homosexual serial killer. (Like he is the homosexual, but not biased in whom he kills. Not I’m the homosexual and he only kills gay people. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Gay people. Not killing gay people. Ugh..nevermind). I began to hyperventilate and was suddenly ass-present.

Ass-present, v. The sudden physical awareness of any possible anal discomfort due to night sexcounters by a crazy roommate utilizing the likes of black-market anesthesia and Sex Jello to fulfill his debaucherous fantasies.

You know it was a pretty rough weekend. My roommate is as nutty as his blog is shitty. My girlfriend cares more about lycopene than me. It’s not even like she has a freakin prostate. Fart’s Spooge left a horrible taste in everyone’s mouth and I’m pretty sure despite my urging of monthly jello socials, I’m abstaining from them for the foreseeable future. I didn’t get any sleep yet again and the Cubs lost. *sigh* Well if they would have played I’m pretty sure they would have lost. Despite all this, it was actually a great weekend, it’s business as usual and per the norm, I’m all smiles.

Perceived Genetic Predisposition within the Construct of Patterned Social Recognition

I have become increasingly interested in the influence of pre-adolescent mental conditioning, specifically how consistent methods of parenting through multiple generations of the same family often manifest apparent inherited characteristics in offspring. My hypothesis is the majority of basic mental states, or deficiencies, are actually ingrained through certain techniques of socialization. What we view as genetic predisposition, in terms of mental state, through familial relation is actually the result of perpetuated parenting styles and not genetic make-up.

What is a genetic predisposition anyway? Basically it is any genetic (inherent) effect that influences our development, biochemical and physiological characteristics. The amazing aspect that the school of genetics concludes is that genetic predisposition can be changed by environmental factors. With that said, I'm halfway to corroborating my thesis already, but the next hurdle is determining strength of influence with respective, compounding generational parenting styles.

Basically it boils down to the nature v nurture quagmire, but if my claim proves true, the implications would be radical in our approach to overcome so-called mental limitations. I doubt I'll be applying for any grants in the hopes of conducting a decade long study, but I will continue to research the topic and hopefully come up with a circumstantial conclusion. I'm soliciting the help of my cousin who is currently studying for her Master's degree in alternative medicine (I think. Something like that). She is writing a paper on the components of western socialization, which she claims is the installation of one fear after another into children. I have not read her paper, but it's not only relevant to my study, it's also incredibly thought provoking. I'm hoping she will allow me to post excerpts or all of the paper upon completion.

From an anecdotal standpoint, I think it's important to acknowledge the malleability of our mind and body. We are not carved from stone.

In Water Writ

In light of the philosophical melodrama of most of my blog posts, I present a dumbed-down manifesto regarding piss and sex jello.

So I’m in my junior year of college (1st junior year that is) and have this crush on an acquaintance of a good friend. At the time, I considered the girl in question to be quite attractive with her smooth, slender body and soft, cute features. What she lacked in size she made up in party-ability though. The moral of liking this chick is perhaps the fine line between free-spirit and sloppy drunk. I could not for the life of me figure out why no one else was after this girl, who we will call Betty from here on out. I’m guessing it had something to do with:

1) Most people knew the true nature of Betty, which I had not yet determined, and
2) I was blinded by my underachieving drunken apathy

Betty and I never dated; in fact we barely even made-out a couple of times. I never confessed my feelings, but I’m pretty sure she knew my interest. Mostly we just drank with mutual friends until Betty invariably got to the point where she would:

A) Get kicked out of a bar for ethanol-induced epileptic-like dance moves that would result in a meeting with the floor
B) Punch a bouncer then the subsequent ejection
C) Walk home with some random guy then the subsequent ejaculation, and
D) Take me home and then the subsequent urino-flatulation

Betty was especially whorish toward me during a particular evening. We were all hanging out at our favorite Mexican Resto/Smoke-Free Dive Bar and of course drinking Boulevard and taking copious amounts of shots because not only were we drunks back then, but the bartenders knew us quite well and gave us ‘discounted rates.’ At this point in my relationship with Betty I was beginning to see her wild side and was losing interest in proportion to her drunken antics. Who am I to judge though? (=young and horny).

Betty and I were pretty fucked up as I was lassoing her steer-like dance movements. Just prior to the inevitable ejection, I managed to hog-tie her gaunt body (resulting from an eating disorder) and walk her home. I was pumped because there was NO WAY I wasn’t going to get laid… right? We’re walking home and as Betty swerves one way; I swerve the other way so if a cop sees us, through an optical illusion it will appear as if we are walking in a straight line (probably similar logic I used in my apparent attraction to Betty). So after two blocks Betty decides she needs to find an alley bathroom. With no regard for decency, she pigeon-toe squats and yanks up her slut-esque skirt revealing her panty-free outfit. Holy high-pressure urethral action… she’s going strong until the gravitational force overcomes her force of static friction against the brick wall and SPLASH!! Ass and skirt in a puddle of watered down piss. Classy.. My respect for her had long disappeared; my respect for myself was dwindling fast. I at least had to make sure she made it home safe though.

We got her home and she told me to lie on her bed. Hmm… sex with pee-butt or self-respect? Betty decided to bathe so I decided it might not be a bad idea to hold my self-respect hostage. As Betty laid her now fresh scented body into bed with me, she almost immediately small-spooned me and passed out. I rolled over on my back and put my hands behind my head as if to relieve some of the self-loathing that stemmed from ever bothering with this girl.

It didn’t even faze me that Betty’s ass was exposed as if telling my leg of the horror to come. As I’m consciously zoned-out, Betty’s ass suddenly (and not all that unexpectedly) blew its top in a raucous, disturbingly shrill, sustained fart. Then, as if my leg and olfactory senses hadn’t had enough, almost exactly in queue behind Betty’s noxious release, she started pissing all over my leg.

“Well Jake,” I told myself aloud, “live and learn buddy.” As I walked home in a thankful dejection, a now partially frozen right leg and a destroyed sex-drive, I realized this was where the rocks fell and I could only go up from here. I approached the dumpster in front of my apartment building and parted with my pants not because I was disgusted, but rather I was being reborn and parting with my old ways. I slowly walked into my building fully clothed and shoed save for my pants. With cold, naked legs, I held my head up high and entered the threshold a new man.

It’s disturbing, but probably funnier to think about all the times I’ve been pissed on. Like the time I woke up in my bed soaking wet being spooned by my muscle-bound, red-headed-ogre of a friend (who was fucking naked by the way..). The next day of his visit I told him under NO CIRCUMSTANCES is he to sleep in my bed. So I arise bright eyed Sunday morning to find the genitals of the red beast stairing deep into my eyes from the floor as that is where hepassed out wearing nothing, but MY winter coat, bordered by a shadow, only it wasn’t a shadow, it was…you guessed it… another god damn piss stain. It’s not a coincidence that this is the same friend who woke up in jail naked after his birthday. Then there was the time I passed out in the middle of my two friends (in my bed again!) and we woke up severely saturated. We reviewed each other’s boxer briefs and it was determined that they BOTH pissed. Then there was the time one of the same friends puked all over my Surficial Hydrology notes, which I continued to use the rest of the year after they dried. I couldn’t really get mad at him though because a while back I had decided to neatly break an estimated twenty beer bottles on his floor because, “he didn’t say I couldn’t.”

Why is this at all relevant? Well it’s not really, but the fact that my roommate decided to, and I quote, “Make 200 jello shots this Saturday,” possibly led to the retrieval of those respective lottery balls. On second thought it is extremely relevant. I invested in a new bed after finally giving up the Piss Bed (coined thanks to my friends overzealous consumption), which I was possibly conceived on. This amazing sleeping apparatus was not cheap!





My orgasmic pillow top bed has an accompanying magical comforter that has an overall symbiotic effect that can probably only be described by the comfort of an un-aborted fetus lying in a womb, or maybe a care-free sleeping kitten. (Did you know sometimes when I'm feeling down I google image search kittens. What?! I don't care what you think. THey're cute.)



I wake up every morning and carefully make her, talk to her in a comforting tone and reassure her that I’ll be home soon. If anyone ever pisses on her…. Oh man I will be so pissed.

Ok back to my roommate. We’ll call my roommate Fart Pennies to protect his anonymity. Fart Pennies’ jello shots are a legend on the north side of Chicago. His jello shots are also known as Fart’s Spooge, Bill Cosby’s, Drunk Snot, Fuck Butter and my personal favorite, Sex Jello. It’s rumored that anyone who consumes Fart Pennies’ Bill Cosby’s will get laid. Below is an image of my London roomate and current Chicago friend, that Jen-girl after she consumed several ounces of Fart's Spooge.



Unfortunately, statistical analyses have already been corrupted by biased methodologies. Regardless of the efficacy behind Fart’s Fuck Butter and sexual encounters, I’m confident that my little Ketchup Whore and I can put a check in the yes column.

So here’s to a piss-free north-side, good roommates, good friends, Fart’s Spooge and beautiful girls who have mashed tomato fetishes.