Saturday, August 20, 2005

Weekly Viking Holiday: FETS Day. Meaning Fuck Everything, Tomorrow's Saturday.

Top of the morning gents,

Hysteria. What a good word.

The source of so much agony can be traced to a pair of
fat and stinking grapefruits the size of ovaries.

Now you understand why so many women are dying to get
their cunts scooped out with a sharpened spoon,
otherwise known as a hysterectomy.

Hence the root of the word: Hysteria.

See how language is amusing all by itself?

Lunar cycles match lunacy cycles at 13 revolutions per
year exactly matching the full moon, menstruation.

It's bad luck to ride a moon bike 13 times a year:
you'll end up with bruised mudflaps (male bags).

If a woman wants to become a man she must first have a
hysterectomy.

To complete this transformation, she'll then require
an add-a-dick-to-me.

Fuck I'm funny.


*Old man David Craig told me to put my money where my
mouth is: in the toilet.

I'm lying. He phrased it much better.

He's keenly aware of the dismal academic potential our
browner brained scralings are cursed with.

Instead of my mad typing, angry tirades and lunatic
ravings about our 25% quota output of dullard FAS
babies in our beloved FAZ, he told me to recruit,
adopt or kidnap some native children and infuse some
of my rapid cycle rate thought patterns into them.

He's right. Instead of making fun of poop shoot
sourced aboriginal retards and drooling Inuit dunce
craps, it'd probably be more productive to take a few
alter-native colored angels and do a Spock mind-meld
on their puny craniums.

Fuck. I hate native children. The rude speech
patterns, dull humor, and mean spirited sexuality
mixed with penile and skin color akin to fecus. For
our browner raced hominids, it's impossible to detect
shit on a First Nation Mongoloid's dick.

"Adduncy put his kookoo in my unnuk!" "I want the cops
to see this!" (Annie Cyr, KPD SR: anal rape
complainant, 1995).

Fuck! Who could pork an ancient skank in the ass? Only
Kenny and Annie's shit ass progeny. Runs in the
family. Culture too.

Both Mr. Craig and my fathers (Grampa and Paps)
believe that to reciprocate the favor of sending Sara
Magnum to Seattle for over a decade for tutoring,
private schooling, and equestrian training at my
parent's indoor horse arena, I should send my own ass
to Anchoragua to adopt and "Karlise" Sara's 2 little
girls.

You know something? I can't argue with smarter older
men.

So I won't, and I will.

My dad loves the idea of me typing like a madman every
morning with 2 little Eskimo girls in high chairs
sitting right next to me.

If I do this, my pops said I will repay him for
raising my little Eskimo girl. Weird huh?

He lectured me that we owe everything and nothing to
our parents for all their work. But if I'm feeling
indebted to him for educating Sara Magnum, I'll have
to repay the favor by reproducing his works of child
rearing benevolence and take over raising Sara's 2
little angels.

As in spending my golden rears of retirement with her
two girls.

I'm set for life: free medical, dental, and vision
benefits, plus free old fogey lodging or in-home elder
care: all paid for by the State of Alaska Pension
System. AND a monthly pension check for the rest of my
life.

So, I guess I have the time, resources and ability to
spend a few decades raising two little Eskimo girls so
smart as to obfusctate all traces of their retarded
lineage.

Do see my marching orders? I'll soon be tearing down
my computer laboratory here north of 70 lat and
assembling it next to 2 little Eskimo girls in high
chairs.

I'm gonna have to do something about my shit ass
language. I'd feel mighty ashamed if I witnessed
Sara's little girls calling niggers 'natives', or
calling natives 'niggers'.

What's an elitist snob from wealthy Vikings to do?

Pass on this culture to my grand kids, of course.

Make sense?

Keep you posted.


*One of our graying gunslingers sent me a slew of
killer 'out of office' automated responses to incoming
emails when yer dumb ass is on a drunk, scrawgging
some strange, or simply out in the parking lot burning
a number and taking an attitude adjustment break.

No, don't use any of these on for your office.
Governmental public sector employees lack imagination,
sense of humor, and 3 digit IQ's.

Stay in your current jobs, the private sector expects
results.

So do millionaire Scandinavians and little Eskimo
girls.


Karl.

---

Best Out of Office Auto Replies:

1: I am currently out at a job interview and will
reply to you if I fail to get the position. Be
prepared for my mood.

2: You are receiving this automatic notification
because I am out of the office. If I was in, chances
are you wouldn't have received anything at all.

3: I will be unable to delete all the unread,
worthless mails you send me until I return from
holiday on 4 April. Please be patient and your mail
will be deleted in the order it was received.

4: Thank you for your email. Your credit card has been
charged $5.99 for the first ten words and $1.99 for
each additional word in your message.

5: The e-mail server is unable to verify your server
connection and is unable to deliver this message.
Please restart your computer and try sending
again.'(The beauty of this is that when you return,
you can see how many in-duh-viduals did this over and
over).

6: Thank you for your message, which has been added to
a queuing system. You are currently in 352nd place,
and can expect to receive a reply in approximately 19
weeks.

7: I've run away to join a different circus.

8: I will be out of the office for the next 2 weeks
for medical reasons. When I return, please refer to me
as 'Margaret Hanson' instead of 'Karl Ewing'.

*Hooah! I liked the last one so much I made changes
that you coppers would bust a gut over.

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