Warning! This blog contains very strong language and shocking opinions. Read at your own risk.
That means don't whine and cry to us tomorrow about what the hell you see and read here today.

Friday, September 30, 2011

The Time is WRight

I know this guy Ronnie who makes me look like Albert Einstein in comparison. His full name is Ronald W. Wright but everybody in town calls him Ronnie, even though he's in his late fifties. Here in the Allegheny Plateau, like most places in Appalachia, men never really grow up. That's the way we like it. Then we can get away with all kinds of shit just because boys will be boys. Man, I love that lame-ass line.

Anyway, Ronnie let me alter his last name a bit for this promo vid and for the actual video, which I intend to post in early October. He's so dumb that he agreed to appear in my next video just so I can show people that only a dumb fuck like him thinks there aren't any people on other planets.

Ronnie's so freakin' dumb he thinks I don't believe in them, either. He thinks I'm just talkin' shit. God, I love this guy. Every cranky old bastard ought to have a pal like Ronnie WRight. I'm even using his mug to draw traffic to my page at the Junk TV website. Hell, it's better than having a fuckin' ad on the FOX Network.




Sunday, September 18, 2011

WoWAGreatBigRocket!

Yeah, I heard "the big news" the other day. Umm hmm. How'd ya think I'd react? I'm not a ten-year-old boy. Or a NASA bigwig, either, spooning out shit by the bucketful to a gullible American public that just can't seem to get enough of those noisy, big-ass NASA rockets.

Yeah, great big rockets. And all the ballyhoo and hullabaloo that goes along with them. Like 20th-century window dressing, false patriotism and government cover-ups. That's right. I'm a grownup. I can see through transparent people. And, like a grownup, I can't get all excited about something that can eventually be made into a Lego toy.

What about you?



And, yep, I did all the sound effects myself, separately, and then dubbed them in afterward. It's amazing what you can do with a five-dollar stick mike from Big Lots wrapped in a MacGregor sports sock, lots of spit and a free sound recorder downloaded from the Web.

And, no, I wasn't holding my cigar upside down. It's a cigar, not a fuckin' rocket. Besides, I tried that and the goddamn hot ashes went all over the goddamn place. Hey, unlike NASA, I'm on a shoe string budget, here. So, if it doesn't look and sound like high-end shit to you, go peddle your papers. It's no skin off my ass either way.

So, you finally noticed the "Filmed on Loaction" credit at the end. Was it a pun? Well, gee, if it was a pun I guess I'd be saying that this particular video is in "Lo Action" instead of HD, right? Or was it just a typo? Or maybe there's some hidden biblical reference or a code that'll put you in a freethinker matrix. If you can figure out the fucking code.

Or maybe "loaction" is a new high-end video-making process that you'll want to die for! Especially if everyone else has it and you don't. In that case, why does the video look so Low-Def, huh? I'd say LMAO if I didn't think that the flourishing use of chatroom acronyms is earmarking the downfall of western civilization. But how would you know that if you use them all the time because you can't spell real words worth a damn? Huh? OK, you nitpickers can chew on that thing awhile. Me? I've got other fuckin' fish to fry.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Freddie Was No Abe Lincoln

People can do what the hell they want with their lives as long as they don't hurt other people or break the law. That's basically my public position on "diversity". Not my personal beliefs, which are none of your business. But this post isn't about "diversity". It's about disrespecting Abraham Lincoln. I have a problem with Google not honoring Abraham Lincoln on his birthday and then honoring somebody like Freddie Mercury on what would have been his 65th birthday, today.

I couldn't stand the sound of Queen and Freddie Mercury made me want to puke. I'll be up front about that. Not liking Freddie Mercury is my goddamn prerogative. But I'd be the last person to say he had no right to be the person he was. Being who you are and becoming who you want to be is what freedom is all about. Liking and not liking people, places and things is also what freedom is about.

Part of my freedom is being allowed to be sickened by other people and their behavior. I'll willingly accept the fact that I should respect people as human beings in public and treat them right if I can do and say as I please in my own goddamn home and in my private life. So, don't think for one goddamn fucking minute that my believing that people have a right to basically do as they please as long as they don't hurt anyone or break the law is any kind of support for anyone's lifestyle. Support your own goddamn lifestyle. If you don't "fit it", that's your fucking problem. Don't make it mine.

So, before any of you touchy assholes out there think I give a shit about Freddie Mercury's sexual preference, pull your heads out of your own asses for a minute and listen to what this blog post is really about. I do have personal opinions and public ones and that doesn't make me phony. It shows you that I can be myself and respect everyone at the same time. Being a good citizen is a lot easier than you think. Give it a try before you die.

That's right, this post is about Google disrespecting one of the greatest human beings to have ever lived, Abraham Lincoln, by not even mentioning his birthday this past February 12th, or the year before that, and then honoring a freaky, self-centered dandy like Freddie Mercury for once having been alive by commissioning a special Google Doodle.

Abe Lincoln, the 16th President of the United States, helped change the course of American history — and our global culture as well — and he was murdered for his efforts. On the other hand, Queen lead singer Freddie Mercury never did anything for anybody else. His mercurial rise to fame as a shock-rock singer (pardon the pun) was undeserved, as far as I'm concerned, and his life was all about him, not about any kind of service to others. On top of that, Freddie Mercury killed himself because he couldn't control his own sexual urges. How in the hell that can be any point of honor is a total mystery to me and one I may never solve.

Yeah. Talk about misplaced priorities. How Google can justify honoring a libertine while turning their backs on a man who chose to liberate people is a shock and an insult I just couldn't keep to myself. Post edited 4-17-13 to make it clearer and myself clearer to everyone.

Monday, September 5, 2011

Sam on Hell

No, this isn't me talking about people in my personal life. I have no personal life and this isn't about anybody's personal life except Sam Kinison's personal life. So, if he wanted to air his dirty laundry in public, I'll watch and laugh my goddamn ass off. So, if you don't like me (Ted O'Hooey, who else?) or Sam Kinison or caustic humor, what the hell are you doing here? You little fucking snoops. This blog is fictitious humor. So, like it or lump it. Or just fuck off.

Friday, September 2, 2011

Psychic Pshit Psucks


Psychics are nothing but a bunch of goddamn frauds who eat and sell shit for a living because they're too fucking lazy to get real jobs. Whenever I see an ad somewhere for one of those worthless shit-sucking, bottom-feeding psychics, it makes me wish this touchy-feely world of ours would wise the fuck up about these Luciferian assholes and ban these creepy dark-side-serving charlatans from making their dumb-fuck sales pitches. That won't make them go away but it'll certainly put a choke hold on their ill-gotten gain.

I had a dream the other night about a weak-willed guy who paid one of these ass quacks way too much of his hard-earned money for a goddamn psychic reading and then when he got nothing but predictable lying-ass bullshit in return, he shot the flim-flam fucker and burned the fucker's house down. Christ, it was refreshing not to have a goddamn nightmare for a change.

Then, just last night, I had another dream that the sorry-ass, pantywaist dead psychic's client got run over by a bus and became the roadkill piece of shit he really was. Proof of sorry-ass life. Proof of what happens when a butt-fucked mind meets a mind-fucker like an online psychic.

Well, you know where this is going. Yep. Fuck psychics and fuck all the assholes who take a piece of that shit pie by aiding and abetting the butt-fucking psychics who cheat and rob the butt-fucked public on a regular fucking basis.

They're even worse than the goddamn asswipes who try to sell you that vampire shit. Jesus, just about any redneck asshole from just about anywhere knows that vampire stories are nothing but dark shit for stupid, creepy dark-minded kids. Nasty poop pabulum for youngsters to swallow while the soul-less vendors of this creepy shit prepare doggie bags for Switzerland and The Caymans. Fuck them.

So, add psychics to that growing, dark-ass list. And, while you're at it, add all those vampire lovers to that towering turd pile, too. Their sorry-ass souls aren't worth saving. At least I'm not going to break into a sweat anymore about all the lost souls on this stupid planet. Earth is a goner, just like Mars.

OK, then, until I get good and ticked off again, have a great fall. Or, have a great spring if you're from the southern hemisphere. And, hey, don't let the bedbugs or the vampires or the goddamn psychics bite you. But, if they do, bite the fuckers back.