Warning — this is an almost gleefully filthy slack chat. So don’t say we didn’t warn you.
T: Hey J, what were Carlin’s seven dirty words?
J: George Carlin’s seven were shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, and tits. That would have an effect on my vocabulary.
T: Yeah, it would cut it by about a third.
J: Not to mention shortening these chats significantly.
Plus no squirrel pics.
T: Are the Carlin’s Seven still in effect?
J: I think the …
When I’m reincarnated,
armed with all my lessons,
and I cannot be pierced,
I will take the lonely highways
and the crowded marketplaces,
I will learn to play an instrument
and learn another language,
and I won’t share anything except my blueness…
Some may think they understand me
even though they do not know me,
and even if they hold me
or even want to scold me
for I recall
the chickens squawking
and the axes chopping
the crowds inside of cars
trudging on the freeway
mostly listening to music
while I gaze about astonished
at all these odd constructions
of things that no one really understands
and I can’t share anything except confusion
and submission and acceptance
and wondering what’s for dinner.
T: Hey J, did you know “llamba growing” is an anagram for “global warming”?
J: That doesn’t make any sense. What’s a llamba?
T: I’d tell you, but it would offend the Twitter-verse.
J: Why would that stop you?
T: You are right; the Twitter-verse is to being offended what Beeker is to nervous lab assistants.
J: Got one for climate change?
T: Um ….
How about “tea chime clang”?
J: That sounds like a rap group I’m about to characterize with a wildly racist stereotype.
T: I dare you.
J: No way. I get enough GOP junk mail as it is.
T: That wasn’t racist.
J: No, but it was …
The slack chats are the brainchild of yammering subversives Johnny “Cake” Hunter and Terry “Insert Nickname Here” Vent. It was inevitable that they would combine their two favorite things — yammering and slacking — into an art form. Plus they stole the idea from Nate Silver’s FiveThirtyEight.
These guys have been off the grid for decades. I assumed they were still traveling the Pacific Rim, trading inflatable Strom Thurmond dolls to the natives for Polynesian weed, but a cursory google search found them hiding in the witness protection program, where they had been since they testified in the infamous “we can’t believe it’s not butter” truth in advertising scandal that took down Orville Redenbacher.
I think one’s in a cult and the other one sells insurance, but I can never remember which one of these jokers sold his soul to an evil demagogue and which one sells flowers at the airport. They call themselves radical centrists, which (I think) means they hate everybody.
Their voting record is all over the map. Both have, at times, cast ballots for chronic losers in the major parties, third parties and once (allegedly) for a Care Bear. Neither one of them voted for Trump, but they think Ivanka is super hot.
Enjoy the madness.
D.B. Cooper (shhh … )
It’s a pretty silly thing, nationality. If you flew to the center of every geographic area, you’d think there were dozens of unique races in the world. But if you walked, you wouldn’t understand the concept. The changes in color, face shape, hair, lips, eyes, etc. are so gradual — in every direction — that […]
When I read Kathy Gannon’s series about women in Pakistan, I accidentally began at the finish and worked my way back to the start. The backwards view gave me a strange perspective on the culture I was reading about. Rather than reaching the end with hope, understanding that the wheel of change grinds slowly and […]
Sep. 21, 2015 I like Bernie Sanders. Bread and circuses candidates are always popular; I mean, who doesn’t like free bread and circuses? Sep. 28 The latest wisdom … Marco Rubio and Ted Cruz will face off in the end or – if a two-man race doesn’t happen – there will be a brokered convention. […]
based on footage from Vintage Baseball’s YouTube page June 13, 2016 Dizzy Dean leaned forward to take the sign, his hands jostling for position in the crude, tiny leather mitt on his left hand while his elbows performed a lazy, distracted chicken dance in the folds of his wool jersey shirt. Once the catcher gave […]
December 4, 2016 (excerped from a previous article) Do we visualize Willie, Mickey and the Duke, Joe DiMaggio and Ken Griffey Jr. when we think about centerfielders? I do, and it muddies my judgment. I wind up comparing every new centerfielder to the very best who ever played, and I lose perspective. I forget what […]
Copyright © 2018 THE BARSTOOL