Sad news today in the mint world. Velamints' creator, Dolf Angrogen, passed away at 82.

RIP Mint Creator Angrogen. It has finally died.

Velamints Creator Dies at 82.

Sad news today in the mint world. Velamints' creator, Dolf Angrogen, passed away at 82.

RIP Mint Creator Angrogen. It has finally died.

Velamints Creator Dies at 82.

Sad news today in the mint world. Velamints' creator, Dolf Angrogen, passed away at 82.

RIP Mint Creator Angrogen. It has finally died.

Velamints Creator Dies at 82.

Sad news today in the mint world. Velamints' creator, Dolf Angrogen, passed away at 82.

RIP Mint Creator Angrogen. It has finally died.

Velamints Creator Dies at 82.

Sad news today in the mint world. Velamints' creator, Dolf Angrogen, passed away at 82.

RIP Mint Creator Angrogen. It has finally died.

Velamints Creator Dies at 82.

Why do people sign up for this stupid site, Facebook?

Does anyone really desire to keep in touch with their "friends" that badly?

I don't.

I liked it better, in the old days, where I could see my pals decline in easily digestible chunks, chomped down over time when I would see them in the mall and realize how miserable they looked, how annoying their girlfriends seemed, how beaten they'd gotten.

It made me feel better about myself.

It made me feel godlike.

It made me into the sort of guy who would walk into a supermarket in the middle of the night and do my shopping without having to run into them at all.

Until Facebook runs a special on canned ham that matches that of Wegmans, I want no damned part of it. And I don't want to watch my friends turn to shit in slo-mo.

I want to do it with time lapse, but until then, I will settle for running into them in the mall.

And I don't want access to anyone's personal information any more than I'd want someone to have access to mine, but if Facebook wants to give my home phone number to Goldman Sachs or Wal Mart, then I expect phone sex from them.

"Hello, this is Elaine, customer service representative for Wal Mart, calling!"

"Um, yes?"

"We want to know what color panties you are wearing right now! This is a courtesy call."

"I don't wear panties. I am a guy."

"Well, what are you doing with your hands right now? Are you wet? We have a sale this month on Scott Toilet Tissue. I'm so hot for you right now. A dozen rolls for $2.79. I want you to bend me over. Jolly Green giant snow peas, 56 cents a can! Fuck me."

"Those are some pretty good deals."

"Oh baby, I want you so bad...I'm about to explode. T Bone steaks, $6.05 a pound. Pound me with your bone...We appreciate your patronage at your local Wal Mart. Be sure to check out our large selection of five dollar DVDs, and cum all over my face."

Facebook to Privacy: Drop Dead!

Well, I have officially returned to memestreams, and in a goodwill gesture to Tom Cross, I have decided to tone down the act a little. Granted, a layman's eye may find itself unable to discern the difference, since my blog posts have still tended towards cruel pranks (Neil Young Dead at 66), libelous humor (Fat Chris Christie...) and outright diatribes (California, Hold thy Tongue), but I HAVE, in my defense resisted personal attacks on other users of the site, death threats against celebrities and the sort of invective I once tossed around this internet tool the way one would shoot Iraqis under General Schwarzkopf (or Iriquois under General Jackson).

Yes, I have turned over a new leaf, as has memestreams! No longer do I have to read about how Kerry is better than Bush, simply because after two years of Obama, we see that both parties are really the same damn thing, where it counts. That was my point all along.

I believe in free thought, and those whose thoughts remain shackled shall face the brunt of their own wrath. My only drive is to make fun of our lame culture in 2011.

I am sure our lame culture won't leave me lacking for material.

So I reckon Michelle Obama sits around, forcibly drugged on valium and thorazine so that she doesn't kick her husband right in the ass for being such a turncoat to anyone but Republicans, robber barons and Wall Street.

Rather than tackle poverty or inequality or the fact that our nation keeps falling into the sewers faster than one can say "one term," our first lady has kills time like a schoolyard bully picking on fat kids.

"You kids are fat, and that means you can't serve in the military for us, so skip dessert, eat a bowl of rice a day and live your life like a North Korean peasant. Here's your green smock. They only come in one size, so lose weight, you fat little shit." She says to the youth of America.

One kid raises his hand.

"Miss Obama! All we can afford are fatty, undernourishing foods like McDonalds and the shit they sell at Aldi because my dad lost his job three years ago, your husband is forcing us to buy health insurance and he took all our money to help banks and the wealthy in their quest to fuck 99% of our nation. Oh, and I forgot about the OBAMA tax cuts. We used to call them the Bush tax cuts, until your husband embraced them, while telling us he didn't embrace them, but passed them anyway. I mean, if starving to death on some days while gorging on trans-fat laden chemical beef helped allow gays to serve in the military, then it's all worth it. I call that a fair trade-off."

"You are mistaken, on one point, kid" The first lady says, "We let the rich have the Obama tax cut so that the middle class could retain their tax cut, too."

"Um...what's the middle class?" The kid shifts in his desk, which cracks and whines under his girth.

"It's this family that lives in Illinois, down the block from where we used to live. They make sixty thousand dollars per year. Do you really want to see them pay more in taxes?"

The kid slumps over onto his desk, dead of a heart attack.

At least Chris Christie, the teacher-hating governor of New Jersey supports poor, drugged up, silenced Michelle in her quest to help make every man, woman and child, gay or straight, physically fit enough to die overseas in the courageous act of protecting the wealthy people in our nation.

Chris Christie says: "I think it's a really good goal to encourage kids to eat better. I've struggled with my weight for 30 years. And it's a struggle. And if a kid can avoid that in his adult years or her adult years, more power to them. And I think the first lady is speaking out well,"

So, when it's Michelle Obama, who seems relatively fit, telling you that you are a fat fuck, it is easy to dismiss the sentiments as bullying.

Now, when a big, porcine slob such as Chris Christie calls you a fat fuck, at least you know that he knows what he is talking about. He is one of the most morbidly obese people I have ever seen! The local press ran a picture of him in shorts and a white (sweaty) t-shirt picking strawberries, a few months ago. He looked like a bucket of shit! He was so fat that if he fell over, you just know he couldn't get back up again. So fat that his wife would suffocate while attempting to give him a blowjob!

I urge all of you to email the office of Chris Christie, governor of New Jersey and ask him when was the last time he saw his dick! You can tell that fucker pisses all over the seat and then leaves it there.

Fat Chris Christie Fights the Obesity of Others...

I hate food critics. I hate anything served "California style." Why?

Glad you asked.

The linked article very poorly attempts to make the case that chef Adam Fleischman's Umami Burger is the best in America. I say BULLSHIT! From what I gather, this hamburger is simply a regular hamburger loaded to the gills with MSG. Wow, sounds great!

America has recently fucked up the hamburger on every level, and the most fucked up food always originates in California, where something about the air mutates the taste buds in horrible ways.

When I order a hamburger, I want grilled or griddle-cooked beef on a toasted bun with chopped onion and ketchup. I don't want lettuce, mayonnaise, wasabi mustard, feta cheese, avocado, or any fucking "secret sauce" unless the secret is that they use fucking ketchup.

Californians need to put all this pretentious shit on their food. What the fuck is wrong with a normal slice of pizza? NOTHING! It doesn't need a goddam thing that a three-hundred years dead Italian didn't already think to put on it!

America, stop fucking up your food! Invent a whole new pretentious meal if you wish, but leave standards alone!

And another thing, if your fucking burger patty is so thick that you can't even bite into both sides of the bun and the burger in one bite, then it's too fucking big!!! It's not enjoyable anymore. If you are a fat, overeating fuck, then order two or three or twenty man-sized burgers or just jump into the water and subsist on thousands of pounds of Krill, each day.

Fuck California Pizza Kitchen, too. That's a tale for another day.

California, Hold Thy Tongues!

Neil Young has passed away at 66, in news sure to sadden all fans of rock music. From his early years in The Mynah Birds with the late "Superfreak" singer Rick James, through his years in such notable rock and folk outfits as Buffalo Springfield, Crosby Stills Nash and Young to his decades long partnership with hard-psych-rock band Crazy Horse, Neil Young made shitloads of albums, toured constantly and even found the time to direct such cool art films as Human Highway, Greendale, and Rust Never Sleeps. He will be missed.

This notes for you, Neil!

Neil Young, RIP.

R.I.P. Neil Young Dead at 66!!!! Rock World Mourns!