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Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler » Archive for Raw Hatred
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Archive for the “Raw Hatred” Category

After all of the magnificent well wishes and expressions of friendship and thanks shared amongst the LC’s here yesterday, I hate to be the wet blanket to snap us all back to reality, but apparently thanks and well wishes are not on everyones minds in the world.

Y’all remember the recent assassination attempt on Benazir Bhutto in Pakistan right? Just another example of fundie haji’s willing to blow themselves up to kill innocent people and get their 72 syphilitic goats in hell. Well, there’s a little more to the story. (Via ROP).

The homicide terror bomb used in an assassination attempt on former Pakistani Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto last month may have been strapped to a 1-year-old child who was being carried by his jihadist father, The Australian newspaper reported Thursday.

Let that sink in a while folks. If you are a parent, look at your child and try and imagine the barbarity needed to use the pure innocence of a ONE YEAR OLD BABY as a bomb delivery device.

I’m to disgusted and enraged to write anything more. This is the evil we are facing people.

Comments 48 Comments »

Remulak MoxArgon exposes, and then thoroughly shreds, the *coughbullshitcough* “open-mindedness” *coughbullshitcough* of a Marxist fucknozzle, one “Komrade Michael T. Eckhart”, pRresident of the American Council On Renewable Energy (ACORE), towards a fellow Ivy Leaguer who doesn’t subscribe to The Great GlowBull Worming Scam™, one Marlo Lewis.

Marlo –

You are so full of crap.

You have been proven wrong. The entire world has proven you wrong. You are the last guy on Earth to get it. Take this warning from me, Marlo. It is my intention to destroy your career as a liar. If you produce one more editorial against climate change, I will launch a campaign against your professional integrity. I will call you a liar and charlatan to the Harvard community of which you and I are members. I will call you out as a man who has been bought by Corporate America. Go ahead, guy. Take me on.

Mike

Michael T. Eckhart
President
American Council On Renewable Energy (ACORE)

Apparently Komrade Eckhart didn’t learn, during his years of cock swallowing behind the ivy-encrusted walls, that us Eeeeevil VRWC Kapitalists™ don’t take too kindly to threats. ESPECIALLY threats from a limp-wristed, mewling Licker of Lenin’s Left Testicle™, who just happened to have the tonsil capacity to fellate his way through an Ivy League school, instead of the once-required mental capacity to grok more than one variable of a multi-faceted, non-static, open energy system.

Go read Remulak’s ruthless bitchslapping of Komrade Eckhart and, by proxy, the entire Stoopid Side of the Idiotarian Parallel Universal Divide™.

F.E.T.E.

Comments 46 Comments »

This utterly annoying 800 number has been harassing me for a week or so by now, calling multiple times a day and never once leaving a message when I, as I am wont when unknown numbers call me, ignore it. If it’s somebody I want to talk to but don’t recognize the number of, I can always pick up during the message.

Finally I couldn’t stand it anymore and picked up the phone.

I don’t expect the stupid, rude, obnoxious sow on the other end to be calling this number ever again even if her life depends on it, nor do I expect her to go to sleep for the next three months without first checking her deadbolt at least a dozen times first.

First executive order to leave my desk when I become President will be specifying the death penalty without trial or appeal for telemarketing, and I’ll insist on attending every execution in person so that I may get the full pleasure from listening to them screaming in pain and unholy terror as they’re systematically dismembered with a rusty folding knife.

And I’ll enjoy every. last. fucking. SECOND of it.

Here’s a hint for cold callers: If I don’t answer, it’s because I don’t want to talk to you. If, after numerous attempts on your part, disregarding utterly Rule Number One, I DO answer it, make sure your earthly business is in order and that you’ve bid your loved ones adieu.

Die, assholes, DIE.

Comments 84 Comments »

Source

Those of you on blood pressure tablets, take them now.

Place all breakable objects out of reach. Now.

Read on when you are ready.

Give us more, O Emperor! »

Comments 60 Comments »

After the resounding defeat of the Socialist Succubi™ in the Paristinian Terrortories™, we’ve once again been treated to pictures of fWench “non-descript youths of unknown descent” celebrating only the way that fWench “non-descript youths of unknown descent” know how— by having spontaneous CarBQ’s™ throughout the country.

This got the minions down in The Imperial Dungeon Game Room™ thinking about trends in television viewing over the last few years and we came up with a couple of examples that we think pretty much sum up the differences between the directions that non-fiction TV programming is going, here in the US, and across the pond on The InContinent™.

American TV Phenomenon

fWench TV Phenomenon

F.E.T.E.

Comments 16 Comments »

National Pancake Day

F.E.T.E.

(PS: Anyone in possession of Mad ‘Shoppin’ Skilz is free to take the idea and run with it.—B.C.)

Comments 18 Comments »

We’d simply say “pretty much all of them”, if there ever was a decade that deserved to be sunk into a salt mine and covered with concrete, the 70s would be it, but that would be too easy, so here are a few suggestions for LC & IB Michele:

1) “Having My Baby”: Michele’s already got it covered, but we have to nominate it again. Proving your undying love to somebody by NOT murdering his unborn child? Damn, if THAT’S not affection, we don’t know WHAT is. It’s even better than a friggin’ pony!

2) Pretty much anything by those revolting castrates, the Bee Gees, who served only to annoy the everloving shit out of me every time they kicked themselves in the nuts and started howling like banshees. Special mention goes to “Staying Alive”, simply because it always reminded me of the fact that they were entirely too successful in that department.

3) “Hooked on a Feeling”: If ever there was a song that would serve as a legitimate reason for a pre-emptive thermonuclear strike to keep the offending band from ever, EVER making another record, this would be one of them. The collateral damage would be entirely justifiable, not to mention that anybody living within 8 area codes of that abomination of a band would most likely be grateful for the sweet release of death.

4) “You Light Up My Life”: As saccharine, vapid schmaltz goes, you don’t get much more horrid than this one. Well, except for “Seasons in the Sun”, which deserves a category entirely of its own. But I digress. I always found myself wishing that somebody would light up her polyester shirt instead. With her still inside it.

5) “Do That To Me One More Time”: Gladly, dear. Do you want me to stick the Philips screwdriver in your eye this time, or would you prefer a butter knife?

6) “If You Leave Me Now”: If I do, you just might escape the fate that I have in mind for you. Of course, there’s always the risk that I’ll come back. With my little “toolbox.”

7) Absolutely, positively anything by John Denver. Thank you, G-d, for putting that big ass mountain right there.

8) That goes for the Village People too. Except for the fact that I’m still waiting for that fortuitously placed mountain to pop up in front of an aircraft with them on it. Their major achievement was to make sure that nobody, absolutely nobody in their right minds would ever want to re-visit the 70s. Except in a time machine. With a Barrett sniper rifle and a few cases of ammo.

9) “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy?”: No, Rod. And you still aren’t. Not to mention that you STILL can’t carry a note if it’s welded to the inside of a bucket and stapled to your sloping forehead. As a matter of fact, I’m still considering launching a class action lawsuit against that sand paper-voiced transvestite for unspecified damages related to the trauma of watching his scrawny figure wrapped in tight, red, synthetic leather… ARRGGHHHHHH!!!

10) And finally, everybody’s favorite “GAWD, but I frakkin’ HATE that song!”. No, we never claimed to be original: “Afternoon Delight.” If I had my wicked way, the perpetrators of that abortion of a song would be hunted down, strapped to a splintery piece of wood and tormented in ways that would make Shaitan himself crap on his hooves and projectile vomit in disgust and horror. And then, but ONLY then, would I proceed to get truly gruesome.

There you have it. Further recommendations are welcome.

Comments 147 Comments »