Thursday, January 10, 2008

Hey, I'm 100! Choke on that, Strom Thurmond!

Anonymous said...

post something soon.


10:22 PM, January 05, 2008
Sheesh-can't a guy take a break once in a while? Especially when he's not getting paid for this?

Hello everyone!

The time off did wonders. I feel like a new Rob.

Well, here it is: my 100th blog posting. You don't believe it's my 100th posting? Well, you can go back and count my previous postings if you want. Of course, if you do, it means you have way too much time to spare, which really means you're a loser with no life. But I can't have that kind of readership because I have a reputation to keep, so just take my word for it, m'kay?

Anyway, the reason why I haven't posted in a while is because I haven't been particularly inspired these days. Sorry, but it's true. I mean, I've thought of lots of things to post, but nothing was quite deserving of the Rob Dow's World 100th Posting Spectacular!

Sure, there are plenty of things to talk about. I could talk about my Christmas. I could mention the sweet gifts I got, such as the excellent digital voice recorder (note to self: use voice recorder for those moments of brilliance that I have several times a day...or better yet, leave in bathroom next to toilet), Oscar award-winning DVDs such as Super Troopers and Jackass Number Two, bitchin' board games such as the South Park Trivia Game and Smart Ass the Board Game (my people know me), an awesome Pearls Before Swine 2008 Calendar, TNT Pop-Its and plastic bugs that fly through the air, and to top it all off, a kick-ass subscription to the Gourmet Cheese of the Month Club, bitches!!!!!

But I won't mention any of that.

I also won't mention the fun gifts Cathy and I gave this year, such as plants for our Oregonian people and baskets of Oregon stuff that we put together for the Idaho crew. I also won't talk about how good it was to see my family and friends, nor how I enjoyed playing in the snow and sledding down my sister's one mile long road (aptly named Hellroaring Rd.) and not having to walk back up thanks to the pickup truck that was waiting at the bottom.

Nope, I refuse to talk about any of this.

I'm also not going to talk about my New Year's Eve. I won't bother mentioning how I watched Dick Clark on TV for the first time in years and how I was impressed that scientists were able to reanimate his rotting corpse and make him almost appear to be alive again. I'll definitely omit the part where I bitch about how old I felt because I hung out with my parents and seriously considered going to bed before midnight, but still managed to make it to about 12:30.

I certainly won't talk about my New Year's Resolutions, not even the one in which I decided my blog should be more educational and feature useful information such as the Bristol Stool Chart:

For the visually impaired, the above chart is talking about poop. But I'm not even going to get into that, nor am I going to mention that I tend to be in the type 3 range depending on what I ate the day before. I'm not sure how the Gourmet Cheese of the Month Club will affect things, though. Anyway...

I won't even mention the other blog-related resolution I made, which was to try to be more topical and talk about pop culture, even though it seems to get me into trouble. I also won't even mention this banner ad that caught my attention:

I'm certainly not going to zoom in on the face of the young Usher (I think):

I sure won't even point out how much he looks like Emmanuel Lewis, AKA TV's Webster:

And I sure as hell won't even try to come up with some pathetic "separated at birth" joke. Not here, not now.

Nope, I won't even mention those things I just mentioned.

Instead, I'm just going to copy and paste the greatest Internet posting I've ever seen.

Now, I know I'm quite often susceptible to engaging in hyperbole. Oops--sorry, my college vocabulary slipped out. What I mean to say is I like to exaggerate stuff. But in all honesty, I can't say I'm exaggerating when I say this is the greatest posting ever because it is! Well, maybe not the greatest ever, but at least the greatest that I've seen in the past couple of days.

Anyway, here it is, and it's brought to you by President Jimmy Carter (by the way, The Onion is not intended for readers under 18 years of age):

Sometimes I'm a little stupid, maybe, a little slow in the head, so I'm wondering if you can help me get something straight. Maybe you can help me understand one fucking thing right now, America, and explain to me what in the Christ is going on here. 'Cause, unless I'm missing something, this country is in the middle of a motherfucking shitstorm, and I have no fucking idea what you're gonna do to get out of it. I mean, are you seriously considering voting for one of these shitbags you got here in '08? Fat fucking chance.

Way I see it, America needs a president who's gonna somehow un-royally screw up the Middle East, do some serious cleaning up after you dropped your pants and took a steaming dump all over the fucking environment, and—boom!—restore dignity, honor, and all that shit to these United States.

See, I got solutions to all your problems—I got 'em right here in my big, hairy ballsack.

You better get down on your hands and knees and kiss Jimmy Carter's rosy-red Georgia-peach-picking ass and beg me to run your fucking country again, because there's no way I'm ever gonna come to you fuck-knobs and politely ask you if I might please be a presidential candidate in your precious fuckin' election. So you can just bite my cock. I've had it with you jerkoffs and your jerkoff candidates.

You actually seem to think one a' these assholes is gonna prance in and wave a magic wand and make everything all nice again. Look at you, sitting there like a common fucking schnook and eating all their bull about bi-fucking-partisanship, and how they have all the goddamn answers. Let me tell you something: These fags are dogshit compared to Jimmy fucking Carter, all right? I was arbitrating Mideast crises when this bunch was still sucking on their mamas' titties.

But who comes to me, huh? Fucking nobody. Why ask old Jimmy anything? What the fuck could he know about peace in the Middle East? It's not like he fucking won the Nobel Peace Prize for that shit. You myopic pricks. Back in '79, I sat Sadat and Begin right down and made those two dicklicks shake hands. It was beautiful—I had all the pieces lined up and I smiled and waved in my best fucking suit and tie right there on TV. And what do you do, you pieces of shit? You screw the whole goddamn pooch.


Oh, what's that I hear? The weather's all screwy? You got a global warming problem? Boo-fucking-hoo! I was telling you morons to turn off your lights and unplug all your shit at night to conserve energy in 19-fuckin'-75, for chrissake. Gee, I wonder what woulda happened if we'd all switched to solar power like I fucking did back when we had a fucking chance to do something about it. Think we'd still be sucking Saudi Arabia's dick like a five-dollar whore? I sure as fuck didn't get no fancy Oscar for that little spiel, though, did I? No. But Al Gore, that cum-sucking pig, steals the shit from me and now he's the greatest thing since Jesus Christ made a fucking sandwich.

Well, he can lick my asshole right after George W. Bush, that fuck.

You want compassion? Somebody who's looking out for the little guy? Why don't you take a look at Jimmy Carter, 'cause unlike, oh, every motherfucking candidate out there, he spent the last fucking quarter-century building houses for the homeless. And what does he get for it? A fucking hernia. Some fucking gratitude, you selfish twats. You talk to me about compassion? I'll shove a crucifix so far up the Democrats' asses they'll be asking me to buy them dinner and kiss them good night.

Funny thing about me: I actually fucking know shit! Not like these goombas trying to weasel their way into the White House. I practically wrote the book on collapsing bridges, inflation, and the working poor, fuck-o. I even got a degree in nuclear engineering or some shit. You know how easy I could swoop down right now like a guardian angel and solve all your fucking problems? Snap. Bam. Do it in my fucking sleep. Just fucking try me.

So you want me to run for president again? Yeah, sure, absolutely, I'll do it. I'd be honored to do it—with my fucking dick in your mouth, you worthless scumbags.

You had your chance with Jimmy Carter, and you fucking blew it. So get fucked. Fucking country.
Obama and Edwards, you wish!




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