I have perhaps had enough

I’m not going to say never; however, I am really failing to see the point of this blog. I’m having a lot of trouble seeing the point of anything.

I thought about writing a graphic novel about my surrealistically weird and brutal experience at International House Budapest. I decided that it was a bad idea. I’d end up paying thousands for an artist to illustrate the novel and spending a lot of time writing the novel and, if I were lucky, selling two copies. Unless something has been hyped and marketed the shit out of, no one cares about anything beyond his facebook circle and his bastard brood and his professional sports teams and his pornography that involves men jamming huge penises into the anuses of women who have hairless vulvas and artificial breasts that are bigger than their heads. You Americans are really weird and ignorant, and you don’t fucking care about anything beyond your pathetic little lives.

It is time for me, I think, to separate myself as much as possible from this world. To move on and, hopefully, some day, move as far away from you as possible. This world has nothing to offer me, and I certainly don’t have anything to offer it beyond inflicting as much damage as possible against the greedy asshole fucks whom I encounter at the poker table.

I wouldn’t be completely honest if I told you that my disengagement from this world does not cause me pain; however, it is a dull pain. I have very little attachment left to this world. As miserable and failed as my life has been, I wouldn’t want to be you. I am not being defensive when I say that you people (most of you) disgust me, and I am glad that I was never granted inclusion into your animal society, as the thought that I might’ve been one of you gives me the creeps.

I might be back. Who knows? Maybe next month, maybe next year. I’d like to thank the few loyal readers whom I’ve had over the years.

Bottled fire. Cheap

You’re poor. You’re grateful for Obama’s big boost in EBT (electronic food stamp) payments, but it doesn’t go far enough. You want more of your welfare state dollar to go towards gigantic bags of generic, salty-as-shit potato chips so that you could fuel your growing dependency on malt liquor. You don’t want to be hemorrhaging all that good potato chip money on overpriced condiments!

I typically shoot for five pound bags of rice, as well as five pound bags of pink beans for four dollars a bag. This is a megashitload of calories and protein and carbohydrate at next to nothing. It is however so bland that one cannot eat this stuff alone. One needs hot sauce. One needs to feel that good tingling burn on one’s lips as he eats his rice and beans. One can easily spend more than the cost of the rice and beans on commercial hot sauce. Generic hot sauces are not always a solution. Shaw’s generic hot sauce is not only not hot, but is very expensive.

I have the solution to all your problems, my impoverished, potato-chip-eating and overweight alcoholic brethren. Stop & Shop generic hot sauce, priced at two dollars on the nose, with a whopping 32 ounces of bottled fire. It will give you about as much oral fun as you can have in the absence of a woman or a cigarette.

Hey Google and FilipinoCupid, stop making me horny

It’s annoying. When I publish my blog posts and review how they look online, Google keeps serving me up these FilipinoCupid.com ads.

I’m not sure why Google thinks meeting young Filipino women is something I’d want to spend money on; I’ve never even mentioned the Philippines. I’m a poor man. My supply of lubrication has gotta last. Go away you horny making Filipino women! You torture me. Damn you, Philippines!

This is how they fail you at Cambridge University

31 January 2012

Dear [UNDISCLOSED],

CELTA Course – C11 HU050 IH Budapest

I am writing in relation to your complaint about the CELTA course at C11 HU050 IH Budapest.

As you are aware your portfolio, the Assessor’s report on the course were examined at a recent Award meeting here in Cambridge.

The final Fail grade was confirmed. It was judged that there is not enough evidence in your portfolio to support a Pass grade.

In your original email you indicated that you wished to appeal the grade, in light of your confirmed grade, please could you confirm whether you wish to pursue this matter?

Yours sincerely

 
Juliet Wilson
Director
Customer Services
Cambridge ESOL
________________________________________
Cambridge ESOL Teaching Awards
I Hills Road
Cambridge
CB1 2EU

web-site: www.CambridgeESOL.org/teaching

Experts in Language Assessment

 

This letter is not from an official at some junk community college. This is Cambridge fucking University. Really important people went to this school, and I’m talking, really, really important people, like Newton and Darwin and Hawking.

One would think that I would have been invited to this Award meeting. I could have helped these illiterate Cambridge fucks with their English as they criticized my ability to teach English. This is not the only piece of evidence I have of these fucking imposters writing like shit.

“As you are aware your portfolio, the Assessor’s report on the course were examined at a recent Award meeting here in Cambridge.”

• I have no idea what “As you are aware your portfolio” means.
• “[R]eport” is a singular noun. It needs a singular verb. It should be “was examined,” not “were examined.”

“In your original email you indicated that you wished to appeal the grade, in light of your confirmed grade, please could you confirm whether you wish to pursue this matter?”

• Two main clauses are separated by a comma. The first comma should be replaced by a period.
• I would say “could you please,” instead of “please could you.”

When it absolutely positively has to be destroyed overnight

I found this ad on a free poker website for cops. This is an actual ad. It links directly to the Marine Corp. It’s hard to believe what passes for appropriate these days. Unfortunately, these assholes are paid by you taxpayer to destroy things, including people.

I cannot believe what wussies these cops are that they play free poker. You wussie cops would probably lose your shirt and cry if you faced me in a real man’s game of no limit poker.

Macy’s is weird, very weird

Why is the woman modeling for Macy’s (below) a transgendered male?

Also, I still don’t understand why Macy’s uses a red communist star in its advertising.

Regarding cunt and calling people cunts

Okay, I have decided not to call people cunts on Bastard Universe anymore. I have only called one person a cunt in the entire history of this blog. I’m not saying that this person was not a cunt, or that she did not deserve being called a cunt, I’m just saying that one cannot do this. There’s no context; it just looks bad.

My father once criticized me for referring to my next door neighbor as a cunt. (She is a very evil person. I keep meaning to write about her.) What’s funny is that I have heard my father call his mother-in-law and his daughter-in-law a cunt for many years. What is politically correct for one is not necessarily politically correct for someone else.

Once at a slam poetry event a woman was invited to give special reading of her poem before the slam – and I will never forget the title of her poem as long as I live": “Cunt Country.” It was an over-top, in-your-face-poem about lesbians and lesbianism. The word cunt must have been uttered a good hundred times. I thought it was very rousing, though the graphic nature of the poem did make me a little queasy. Had the poet not been so obese, I don’t think it would have been so difficult to hear about the intimate details of the poet’s vulva. I personally congratulated the poet for writing such a powerful poem.

Stop crying, John Kerry

 

Stop crying, John Kerry, sissy. I don’t want to hear it. Just shut the fuck up. Did you cry when you went after that VC sniper who shot at your boat? Did you cry when, as you boast, you killed him? Did you cry when you voted for Gulf War 2, one of the most horseshit wars ever invented? Did you cry over any of the poor, innocent Iraqi children whom the American military killed?

At International House Budapest, when Eszter Baumann, my teacher and professional career assassin, sabotaged my lesson, 7000 miles from home, I sat there and I took it like a man. I didn’t complain. I didn’t cry. It was her moment to destroy me. I let her have her moment of victory. The lowlife cunt could barely contain her smile when she asked me to sign her report indicating that I had failed. Complaining, at the time, that she had set me up to fail would have been undignified. Nobody would have believed me. She was the teacher. An expert. An authority. I have no patience for people  who cry in public. Be a man. Do your fucking crying at home. You probably don’t have nearly as much to cry about as I do. I don’t want to look at it.

While I believe Kerry was really crying, most of the crying done by politicians is just an act. Pretending to cry doesn’t make it any less sickening.

You’re a shit, John Kerry. A shit and a crying, cowardly loser. I am more man than you will ever be, and I don’t need to murder some poor Vietnamese guy trying to defend his country to be a man. Why couldn’t you have just left the VC you shot alone. He was just doing his patriotic duty. You had to stick your neck out and kill the guy, didn’t you, you crying shit.

Stop crying in public, politicians! It’s undignified and unmanly. And this applies especially to Hillary Clinton, who is more man than any of you crying wussie fafos.

Chub Mackerel and Olde English Brand “800:” The breakfast of champions

 

The poor need their animal protein and they need it cheap. I recommend canned chub mackerel, which is frequently on sale at Shaw’s for around $2.20 a can. The can contains a total of 600 calories and 60 grams of protein. This fish does have mercury, but is classified along with chunk light tuna as having a low mercury level. I’m sure that the arsenic and the antibiotics and the excrement that is in factory raised chickens is far worse for you than the small amount of mercury; just don’t feed it to children, unless of course you’re completely broke.

You will not be able to eat chub mackerel too often, as it is a fairly brutal thing to eat. It tastes very similar to sardines. In order to mask the taste as much as possible, I recommend chasing it down with either some very strong beer, such as malt liquor (my choice is Olde English Brand “800,” which normally runs about $2.70 for a 40 ounce bottle) or, even better, a very sweet beer, such as a double bock. Most Chub Mackerel eaters will not be able to afford sweeter beers, as they tend to be a lot more expensive.

Don’t buy regular mackerel. Chub mackerel is literally a different animal. It is fattier, more caloric, and has more protein. It tastes significantly better than regular mackerel.

I eat half the can when I open it. I store the contents of the other half of the can in the refrigerator, and I eat it the next day. Eating refrigerated chub mackerel is much more challenging than eating it immediately after you have opened the can. You will feel as though you are a participant in the show “Fear factor.”