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Far-belated February birfdays…

Posted by Anntichrist S Coulter on February 12, 2011 – 8:05 am

I know, I know, I sucketh mightily as a friend, blogger and all-around pain in the ass… like any of this is NEWS, right… But two notes before birfdays: RIGHT THE FUCK ONNNNN, EGYPT!!!! Kick that Cheney-sucking thief’s ASS and STRING ‘IM UP IN THE PUBLIC SQUARE LIKE THEY DID MUSSOLINI, SO THAT THE WIDOWS CAN SPIT UPON HIS ROTTING CORPSE!!!!! And B) Tin-Man Cheney’s looking for a “new heart” (it’ll actually be a FIRST for him, but methinks that his last “hospital visit”/software upgrade was just in time for him to get stuck with VISTA, which is why the Prescot-Bush-trained CIA techs can’t just fix it as usual, and thus the undead cyborg craves HUMAN FLESSSHHHHH!!!), and while we all know that no deadbolt, alarm system, shotgun or nuclear apocalypse can stop the Nazi-cyborg motherfucker and his flying monkeys, at least KEEP AN EYE OUT, in case you don’t wanna wind-up in the bathtub full of ice, sans coeur. Note that I said “wind-up,” not “WAKE up”… Sleep in shifts if you can.

Okay, to the people whose birfdays have been  unduly shafted already and those who may have to go until March or later before they get their proper prezzies:

Feb 10th was the blessed natal arrival of the inimitable and amazing Mrs. Die Frau Mentis, the wunnerful woman who helped to make our own beloved Mental…  Mentis into the delightfully-demented man that he is, along with managing quite the impressive career of her own and producing two offspring who may yet give this species a reason to hope for some kind of future. She will always have my utmost respect and admiration, even if her birfday present is unbearably late… But then, I’m still waiting on my NZ chocolate-delivery for MY last birfday (lookin’ at  YOU, compy-boy!!!), so I imagine that she’ll survive until my lousy little trinkets make it down thataway.  I don’t think that anyone has ever croaked from the deprivation of my half-assed attempts at creativity, anyway. Judging from the creativity of their spawn, she could undoubtedly lap me by eighty cycles/100+ miles on anything that she wanted to make anyway, but I will try to find/make her something worthy of her wunnerful self.

Feb. 11th (yup, six hours ago) was our own beloved TERRIBLE’s birfday, a reason to celebrate if ever there was one. Of all of the friends that I’ve made online, and I’ve been  pretty damned fortunate to have made & kept some of the best on teh innernets toobs (the ones who aren’t here now, well, that says it all, don’t it), Terrible is always the first into the breach, locked & loaded for bear, ready to send his last 7 bucks to help the long-ago Katrina efforts, and never failing to get me through the winter with the best summer sausage on earth.  But being the Renaissance Man that he is, there’s oodles more to our Terrible than his enormous and generous heart…  he’s also been known to tear-out quite a few republicunt assholes when needed (and kicks his own congress-critter “representatives” up into their small intestines, too!), and generally keep Vermont safe from marauding touristas/WASPs from Connecticut.  I consider myself damned lucky to have him for a friend, and am sure that we all feel the same way.

Tomorrow, 13th of Feb., belongs to the brave and masochistic man known as Realist, who brings us this censor-free blog on his own server, purely out of the goodness of his charred, gnarled-up, blackened sequoia of a heart. He also tolerates my inanity/senility/idiocy when it comes to tech support, external hard drives, keyboards and emergency back-ups that would boggle the mind.  Again, I have no explanation for what I’ve done to deserve such a loyal and generous friend, but I’m damned glad to have him as my friend and aim to make sure that it stays that way as long as we both have to inhabit this polluted, fucktard-riddled planet.  I used to also mention an elderly guitar/harpsichord/MOOG/bass/piano/harmonica-playing WASP from CT/DC on this date, but he can kiss my wide, white, gelatinous and sagging tattooed ass this year. Offered him the extreme privilege of having me ghost-write his memoirs/autobiography, and was snubbed. Fuck ‘im.  It’s all Realist’s now!

On the 24th of Feb.: Lastly, but hardly leastly, the amazing, the kooky, the creative and kind, wild and winsome, badassed and foul-mouthed-enough-to-out-cuss ME, lovely and loyal LARKSPUR, commenter, generous and huge-hearted friend, generator of many a laugh when no one else could’ve achieved such, and generally a woman that we should all count ourselves privileged to know. No, I don’t get around to the ol’ blog circuit like I used to do, haven’t done so in ages, but if you haven’t seen Larky-Poo’s work here, she’s sure to be found @ World O’Crap, Jesus’ General, and other of the best republicunt-slaying blogs.  Most of all, we wish her improved health, a winning Powerball ticket (as I, of course, always wish ALL of y’all…  I just ask a small finder’s fee, is all…), and a map to Dick Cheney’s house. What she does from there, well, we’ll all be screaming our thanks and approval, no matter how, when, or what…  heh heh heh…
Much love & appreciation to all of our beloved birfday chirren, and as soon as I can get my shit straight and the obscenely-jacked-up postage rates, presents are a’comin’, I PROMISE!!!!!!
BTW, teh Dick would’ve been 69 on the 23rd, but whatever shallow, narcissistic, pointless “tributes” are paid to him by HIS family (to which I never belonged anyfuckingway), the most superficial, phony-assed illiterate rednecks you ever did see, as y’all well know, I have no doubt that I won’t be invited to THAT, either.  Fuckit, I’ve got more important shit to do anyway.

ALSO: I hope to be announcing very good news (shaddup, don’t fucking FAINT or anything!!!) very soon, at least by the 16th-ish (that’d beeee…  oh fuck, WEDNESDAY!!!), and even though we HAVE removed the PayPal button from the sidebar over their asinine behavior (I had hoped to switch to Western Union, but THOSE leeches wanna charge TEN PERCENT on EVERY fucking send!!!!  FUUUUUCK THAT SHIT!!!!!!), I can and most happily will accept any pocket change available in these utterly-clusterfucked financial times, as gas money will be VITAL and I always run out of my $89 in food stamps by the 2nd week of any month.  Think good thoughts.  Don’t clap for fucking Tinkerbell, HOPE FOR ANNTI. As many times as I’ve been fucked-up and fucked-over in my life, ESPECIALLY the post-K years, I figure that I’ve fucking EARNED THIS ONE.  So if you know either of my e-mail addresses (obviously, can’t share those on here, or some sickening fucktard hillfuck from Kentucky or Tennessee will sign “me” up for fucking BESTIALITY PORN “news” feeds!!!!), it’s really quite easy to do teh PayPal sans button.  We may put it back at some point, but right now, it’s hardly at the front of my brain.  Thanks in advance for any and all help, as I know full well that the most hard-working people in the blogosphere are as fucked as I am financially, thanks to teh rich motherfuckers pulling-out early, (if only GHWBush had been so bright!!!) out of the stock market and the commodities gambling, inducing further poverty, famine, suffering and blight across the fucking planet.  We all know how much LESS we can afford every month, thanks to their bullshit machinations and con-jobs (and if y’all think that Greece’s collapse was all THEIR fault, I’ve got an Acropolis that I’d like to sell you…), so if y’all can’t swing it, DON’T.  I don’t want ANYBODY that I love going without on behalf of MY useless ass.  We’ve all gone without so much for so long, there’s no need to further add to the suffering.

Annnnnnnnddddd, on THAT cheerful note, HAPPY HAPPY JOY JOY HUG HUG LOVE LOVE to all of our birfday chirrens and their beloveds, and if there’s anybody who’s NOT on this post’s list, THEN WHY IN THE HELL DON’T I HAVE YOU ON MY BIRFDAY LIST AL-FUCKING-READY?!?!?!  I ain’t psychic, bitches.  And, if it interests anyone, there is a rant/diatribe to come, that’s actually over a month overdue, that will be titled (“entitled” has NOTHING TO DO WITH BOOKS, RANTS, BLOGS, ARTWORKS, OR ANY OTHER CREATIVE CREATION, DAMMIT!!!  STOP SAYING THAT A BOOK OR A COLUMN IS FUCKING “ENTITLED” SUCH-AND-SUCH, IT MAKES YA SOUND FUCKING ILLITERATE!!!!!) “It was 20 years ago today…”

And no, it has nothing to do with Sgt. Pepper or the Cavern Club.  Soon as I can get my four or five operable brain cells to get THEIR shit together, diatribe is en route.

Now, SEND OUR BIRFDAY CHIRREN ALL THE LOVE & HUGS & DIRTY JOKES Y’ALL GOT, YA HEARD ME?!?!?

XOXOXO

Yer Ranty (formerly) Aunty Annti.

P.S.: Just to prove how sadistic that the universe and MGM’s hack excuse for a TV channel, that “THIS” so-called “network” is currently tormenting me with some tax-credit/tax-cut Texas-generated-white-trash-cliche’ BULLLLLLSHITTTTT “about” New Orleans, “swamps,” (why can’t any of these motherfuckers EVER look at a motherfucking MAP?!?!??!!?), pirate “legends,” and the worst-puppeteered/engineered “alien” critter this side of CHUCKY.  AND GUESS WHO THE FUCK MADE A “CAMEO” ABOUT AS SUBTLE AS A MOTHERFUCKING NAPALM DOUCHE?!?!?!??!!?!?

No, seriously.  Guess. Think of THE worst slimebag to EVER crawl outta Texas, leaving snail-tracks everywhere he went, UNTIL COX MOTHERFUCKING CABLE MONOPOLY BOUGHT HIM THE OFFICE OF NEW ORLEANS’ MAYOR“?!?!?!?!?!?!?

I shit y’all not. The chickenshit cockbite motherfucking CARPETBAGGING REPUBLICUNT WHO ONLY CHANGED HIS “VOTER REGISTRATION/PARTY AFFILIATION” TO “DEMOCRAT”(about as much a “democrat” as any other fucking BIGOTED DIXIECRAT!!!!!) TWO FUCKING WEEKS BEFORE THE ELECTION, AND HAD TO BE DRAGGED BACK FROM HIS REAL “HOME,” i.e., NOT “CHOCOLATE CITY” —  San An-fucking-TONIO, Texas, FOUR DAYS AFTER KATRINA HIT, as his precious faux-”chocolate” ass was hauled outta there on a private jet two days BEFORE she made landfall, after he’d LOCKED-UP EVERY SINGLE FUCKING RTA/PUBLIC-TRANSPORT *AND*PUBLIC-SCHOOL BUS IN THE CITY, SO THAT THEY’D BE DROWNED & USELESS AS HIS TOO-SCUMMY-TO-TAINT-THE-WORD-”PUSSY”-BY-ASSOCIATION MOTHERFUCKING ASS!!!!!!

TRULY sorry to have tainted y’all’s birfday wishes with THAT motherfucker or reiterations of his crimes against humanity as Biggus Dickus’ FAVORITE ASS-PUPPET… But when ya ain’t got cable, ya play hell finding anything on @ 6-7A these days.  And I can’t help it, as annoying as I’m sure that it is:  it’s a Pavlovian response to that smarmy, pond-scum voice, that HORRIBLY-BAD “ACTING”  THAT WOULDN’T GET HIM ONTO A TELENOVELLA, and then having to look at THAT PINCHED, MAGGOTY FACE OF THE DOG-FUCKING LOWLIFE WHO HELPED CHENEY, ROVE, RUMSFELD, RICE, ET AL., GO SHOE-SHOPPING WHILST COMMITTING A GENOCIDE AGAINST AMERICAN CITIZENS ON AMERICAN SOIL —  I just can’t help myself. It’s either scream and cuss on here or do something Elvis-ish to my only TV that I would eventually regret, which might  possibly involve one of those knuckle-walking pecker-headed midgets that pass for “cops” around here showing up on my doorstep.  And without a woodchipper, how in the HELL would I be able to remedy THAT fucking situation!?!??!!?

Nope, this is hardly news, nor is it new, nor is any of the past few  paragraphs of any interest to anyone but myself, I’m sure.  There’s remarkable revolutions happening in the Middle East, no matter how hard teh reich-wing apocalypse-wankers try to keep genocidal despots in power/sharing that cruuuuude, baby, drill baby drill (right through Cheney’s cyborg punkin’-head and into Caribou Barbie’s!!!), Southern Sudan is now an independent nation (yeah, THANKS FOR BLOGGING THAT, RENE’, whilst I was keyboard-bereft and couldn’t do SHIT online!), and hopefully there’ll never be another cult-war/oil genocide perpetrated against those people, no matter what cults they use to identify themselves.  SO fucking much REAL NEWS is going on in the world, but I am sure that the TRUE bloggers in our online family are MORE than keeping-up with the real-life, REAL-journalism, REAL NEWS, so I seriously doubt that I’m depriving anyone of the IMPORTANT SHIT.  Hey, it’s been AGES since I’ve been able to force this many words outta my skull, lemme enjoy the moment.

Again, many apologies for associating y’all’s truly sincere birfday wishes, appreciation & love with that slithering fucking PLAGUE, because the love & well-wishes ARE what this shit is ABOUT… But y’all also know the Pavlovian response that I have to HORRIBLE, UTTERLY UN-RESEARCHED, CONDESCENDING-YANKEE-STEREOTYPE-GARBAGE so-called “media,” be it alleged “films,” that disgustingly trite, illiterate, and ALL-FURRINER-CAST piece of shit “vampire” cable-TV show, or any so-called “Blues Brothers” projects that involve John Goodman, Paul Shaffer, AND  —   {{{{{{SHUDDER!!!!!!}}}}}} —  JIM Belushi!!!!!!!!!!!! There isn’t even enough kitsch in THIS particular piece of garbage to save it (nope, didn’t catch the name, go gargling through imdb!), where the only “name” alleged “actor” IN IT is motherfucking RAY OREO NAGIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Shutting up now.  Love y’all all, hope that your birfdays were/will be wunnerful, delicious, pleasurable in every semi-legal sense of the word (and y’all KNOW what I mean, dammit!  No jail bait stories in the comments, ya hear me?!?!!?), enriching and embiggening (to steal from Patriotboy), non-white and delightsome (to piss off teh Mor(m)ons!!!), and may y’all all arrive safely home with more money than you took out with you! Kiss somebody long and slow, dance ’til yer feet fall off, drink six of ‘em for ME, and if there’s video, I call dibs!

HAPPY HAPPY JOY JOY HAPPY HAPPY JOY JOY  — and because I love y’all, I won’t finish the verse, though I am tempted to get that fucking Justin Peeper “song” (can YOU say “ENDLESS TAPE LOOP SHITE STANZA FROM THE BOWELS OF QUEBEQUOIS HELL”!??!?!!?  I knew that you could!) “Baby Baby” stuck in y’all’s heads, because a too-slow pass through the channels a little while ago got that NO-FUCKING-LYRICS-WHATSOFUCKING-EVER SOULLESS IMPERSONATION OF A “HOOK” PIECE OF SYNTHESIZED/BRITNEY-SPEARS-AUTOTUNED GARBAGE STUCK INTO MY MOTHERFUCKING HEAD!!!!! Somebody PLEASE ship me that 55-gallon drum of clorox, PLEASE!!!!! Pretty-pretty please, with cherries and a tongue-kiss on top!!!!!!

Usher might’ve “discovered” him, but he’ll be Disney property right before his teeny widdle nuts drop and his voice changes, I can guarandamnedTEE it.  And if there’s any positive karma, anywhere in the universe, the bastards who foisted that “song” (GAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!) upon the world will ALL die of colon, rectal, prostate, testicular, penile, mouth, throat, tongue, bone and FACE CANCERS. I have GOT to get a fucking radio back into my apartment/possessions, ’cause how in the FUCK am I gonna get that shit outta my head?!??!  Yeah, I know, dig out a CD of the approx. 12 that I have left, pop it into the compy…  Sounds easy, but prolly won’t be enough, not without the bleach. HALP! Oh, wait… I think that I have a bookmark for Cee-Lo Green’s “FUCK YOU!” song…  THAT oughta help…  I fucking LOVE that a song with the word FUCK in it is SUCH a huge commercial hit, rather than being a mere “B-side” to some shit by Naughty By Nature or 2 Live Crew, Van Hagar or fuckin’ pussy-assed shit like “POISON”!!!!!!!!!  GO CEE-LO, GO CEE-LO, GO CEE-LO!!!!!! Hey, ya gotta love a guy who can pull THAT shit off and make it look GOOD.

Shutting up finally.  Love y’all.


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  1. 1. mentisfugit Said:

    I recognize Die Frau from your description. Not sure who you think she’s married to though.

    The chocolate has been on its way for at least a week now, so control your cravings a little longer and DON’T KILL ANYONE no matter how much they deserve it.

  2. 2. Anntichrist S Coulter Said:

    Um. HUH??? Haven’t YOU always used the “Die Frau Mrs. Mentis” description yourself? *I* never took German in high school or college (hell, that redneck hellhole excuse for a high school didn’t even OFFER German or anything but Spanish or French, and like an idiot, I took FRENCH, even as spanish-speakers are taking over the fucking EARTH…), so if it’s improperly conjugated, it’s YER fault, poot-head. “Not sure who you think she’s married to though”?????? Je ne comprends pas.

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