Stop Calling it "Rip City"

Having lived in Portland for YEARS and also having followed the Blazers all season--pre-draft workouts included--I can say that I am as disappointed as anyone in their recent defeat at the hands of the crystal meth addict looking Steve Nash and the Phoenix Suns.

However, I find myself in a state of somewhat relief in the fact that I no longer have to see, hear, or even think about the words "Rip City". At least until I see some hip fan wearing their bafflingly uncreative alternate jersey, that is. Seriously, Ray Charles could have designed a better looking jersey, and he's blind.

Many people wonder why such a nick name was given to our NBA team, and quite a few theories have been postulated over the years. Some people claim it represents the "rip" sound the net makes when you score, but if this were true we would be called "Swish City", which is more retarded by light years. Another popular hypothesis is that "dude its because like, when you RIP A BONG!!" Although about 98% of Portlandites smoke marijuana on a regular basis, this hypothesis also holds no ground.

There are a lot of proposed reasons out there for the name Rip City, but you better tie your belt around your lower bicep, because I'm about to mainline some truth right into your veins. The phrase "Rip City" means absolutely nothing. I don't normally use bold italics, but I think this situation more than called for it.

In 1971 during a game against the Lakers, the Blazers' commentator Bill Schonely witnessed a long range shot go in, and in the heat of the moment yelled out "Rip City! All right!" To this very day Schonely has no idea why he said it, and claims it just came out of his mouth. From that moment forward it was decided that the Portland Trail Blazers would be referred to as a tourettes-like exclamation. By now I hope you can see why I am so off put by this nick name.

It would be like the ever increasingly senile Mike Rice randomly saying "Snake Aquarium" after a clutch three by Roy and having that be our nick name for ever. I know this nick names going no where, but I just hope that next season we can at least get past the first round and maybe, just maybe our centers' knee tendons will stop having the strength of rubber bands. It would also be a lot less embarrassing if they'd stop sending pictures of their dicks to people. I'm talking to you, Oden.

Why My Blog is the Best Fucking Thing on the Internet

As you can see by the title, this IS the Best Blog Ever Written of All Time, and I think after tens of ones of posts, its time for me to explain why this is by comparing it to your blog in the form of poetry.

Your blog is an insect,

my blogs a god.

My blog is concrete,

yours is made of mud (sod)

My writing is impeccable,

yours is peccable,

your blog is hella quiet,

mine is 86 decibels.

your blog is about how you suck,

and you forgot how to shower.

Your mom reads my blog,

for like fucking six hours.

my blogs fillet min Yong,

your blog is creamed corn.

Best thing on the internet.

even better than porn.

my blog is insightful,

philisophoc like plato,

your blog gets less views

than dennis rodman with a dildo.

so take that to your grave,

not 2 fucks i gave,

take some ecstasy,

and my blogs like a rave. (only better)

My blogs the kind of shit,

that influences local news,

your blogs the kind of shit,

that doesn't get hella views (hits)

So i'm gonna weave this shit,

like a spider's spinneret,

now go and take your weak ass shit,

straight off the internet.

(applause)

You're probably thinking to yourself right now, "wow, this shit really is that good, how can I write like you? The way you make fun of fat people and talk about how you don't like anything is great, and how the only things you like are only a result of your dislike for something else, brilliant!" Well to answer that as accurately as possible, you can't. You'll keep writing the same shit people like me were writing years ago while my blog gets more hits than google, or a lindsay lohan sex tape.

In 100 years, philosophy teachers will have to skip right over Plato and Aristotle and all those primitive figures and skip straight ahead to the real hella enlightened shit that I write. Technically this isn't even a blog, its a collection of observational humor articles. I'd have my own website, I just don't know how to code HTML or buy domain names, because that shits for like, hella nerds.. A "blog" can best be exemplified in the following parody.

Mood: Apathetic. Date 4/20/69 lol

Hey guys, lol, So basically my day was like, I dont know, okayyyy.... lol I woke up at around seven thirty and realized how miserable my life was because my black rimmed glasses broke the night before lol, but then i saw my cat and i petted it so it was cool lol. then i had breakfast and my mom was like, "did you do your homework?" and i was like "yes". My mom is always on my about my homework lol. Then i went outside and went to tie my shoe when I realized I hadn't put my shoes on, How embarrassing!!! lol. so anyway, lol, the bus came at its usual time (7:56) ROFL and when i got on my friend tim sat next to me and we traded pogs until we got to school haha. I went to my first class and my teacher lol asked for our homework, but then I realized I had left it on the kitchen table LMAO! What's ironic is that it was the very homework my mom had asked me about. |

Yeah, that's basically 98 percent of the garbage out there on this website, and its shit like this that makes it so people don't take bloggers seriously. In the mainstream, it is assumed that anyone who blogs is a 14 year old girl with Alzheimers.

This blog was published unedited for ironic purposes.

Radical Islam = Sensitive Little Girls

The other day, Comedy Central showed their true colors, a pinkish yellow, by bending to the will of muslim extremists who were crying about South Park making fun of Muhammad. As a matter of fact, they weren't even making fun of him directly, but rather eloquently crafting an irreverent satire on how a small portion of Muslims can't solve their problems with anything but violence.

By "problems" I of course mean "cartoons". Let's take a look at the events that led to this brilliant two part episode in the first place. In 2005, a Danish newspaper published a cartoon depicting the prophet Muhammad in a brave attempt to show that they won't be intimidated by threats of violence. What did the radical muslims do in response to these drawings? They killed over 100 people.

Apparently the thousands they had already killed four years ago weren't enough. They had to make damn sure that people were going to start respecting Islam. In a way, it kind of worked. The head executives of South Park refused to let them display any image of Muhammad and even censored any audio footage when his name was mentioned. All this because of a few idle threats made by wannabe terrorists who had probably never even fired an RPG before.

The idea of a prophet in any religion is already absurd enough. A prophet is essentially a man, who with the help of many others, convinces a great deal of people that God is talking to him. The only proof of this anyone has, is the Prophet's word ("no like dude, seriously! God totally said to cut of the weird part of the penis!"-Abraham. or -Moses. WHATEVER). Thousands of years later billions of people still have faith in these men, and over the course of history millions have been slain in their name. Of all the religious prophets, South Park has been kindest to Muhammad. In one episode they had a whole minute long sequence of Kyle slitting Jesus Christ's throat.

How many people did the Christians kill after this episode? None, and if you think I'm implying that Christianity is a better religion than Islam, that's your fault for being presumptuous. Every single religion has their strange, often illogical components to them; from the Jew's celebration of penial skin removal to the talking snakes and burning bushes (crabs joke) of Christianity, all the way to the openly fictional tales of Scientology, there is no shortage of things to make fun of, and most of us can take the joke or simply ignore it without killing one hundred people. Just in case you are still sympathizing with muslims who simply do not feel Muhammad's image should be shown, remember this. The muslims who made the death threats have a website that praises Osama Bin Laden and live in New York City. You know, the place where 9/11 happened?

Ke$ha, because the s is like, a dollar sign!!!

Kesha, aka Ke$ha, aka Courtney Love II, is who every young, impressionable woman dreams about being while applying scented lotion and binge drinking 4 Loko. She is everything they love, and everything normal people enjoy hating. In fact, I don't even hate people like her anymore, I've finally learned to accept these people and have come to terms that alcoholic, promiscuous blonde women are more idolized today than any scientist, doctor, or Nobel Prize winning black president.

Upon listening to the "lyrics" in ke$ha's "songs", I have determined the following things about her lifestyle.

• Ke$ha is wasted like, all the fucking time. She has more blackouts than California when Enron was still in business.
• She somehow brushes her teeth with whiskey (not recommended by dentists) and is not coming back.
• Ke$ha is a huge slut, (just listen to her voice, you can tell) and only bangs dudes who look like Mick Jagger.

Also required: Swagger.

Its kind of fitting, because in his glory days Mick Jagger was also a huge drunk slut most of the time. Only difference here is that Mick Jagger is a musician, and Ke$ha is a drunk slut all the time. Ke$ha is only famous because marketing executives decided they needed a Paris Hilton who could sing. Had it not been her, the job would have gone to the next drunk blonde slut. Boom, I just summed up Ke$ha's entire existence in three words.

Jesse Jackson, Go Weave a Basket Under Water

Every time a Portland police officer "justifiably" shoots an unarmed man, you can count on Jesse Jackson getting on his private jet and coming here and being all like, "this is egregious, preposterous, philandrous, and unjust."

We know Portland cops are as trigger happy as Rambo on an acid trip, and we don't need you coming here using all your words that end in "ous" to articulate that to us. We'd riot in the streets just as rampantly without you. The first thing I saw on the local news when I moved here about five years ago, was a story about police officers pulling over a man "who's nice vehicle was suspicious in that neighborhood, and by "nice vehicle" we of course mean "dark skin", shooting him dead, realizing he didn't have a gun, and then saying, "no but he had cocaine on him, so it somehow doesn't matter anymore that we killed an unarmed man". In fact, as of march of 2004 there were three shootings of unarmed African Americans in twenty five months, so we don't need Jesse Jackson coming here to tell us that Portland cops like to kill black people, its already pretty obvious.

Now I'm not saying that all Portland Police Officers like to kill black people, I'm saying that they fucking love to kill black people. They thrive on it. Every Portland police officer starts his day off by taking a piss, drinking a cup of coffee, and hoping to god that today will be the day that a black person will just... give them a reason. Not only are the cops on board with this, their superior officers are ok with it as well, allowing the officers to continue working. Let's take a look at the most recent shooting of Aaron Campbell.

• Campbell's girlfriend called police worried about him being suicidal.


• Police show up, and 90 minutes later Campbell comes out of house, turns around and interlocks fingers behind his head.


• Not satisfied with the his actions so far, multiple bean bag rounds are fired at Campbell's back.


• Campbell, reflexively reaches to an area on his back where he was hit.


• Officer perceives this as a reach for a weapon, and shoots him in the back with one round form his AR 15.


• Paramedics arrive 23 minutes later and find him lying on the ground dead.

In a nut shell, this man was shot multiple times in the back with bean bag rounds, which are far less delightful as they sound, followed promptly by a single round from an assault rifle, and dying before paramedics arrive. You know, because paramedics never show up to suicide calls. Now for a video that I feel adequately symbolizes the situation with the P.P.D.

A Michael Moore Joint

Ever since the economy crashed I've been waiting for someone to make a movie and explain it all to me (yeah, i know there are books but I don't know how to read, only write), and as of now Michael Moore is the only documentary filmmaker to even attempt to make an entertaining movie about it. In general, this movie had a lot of interesting content, but was more boring than a quadriplegic mime. You know, because quadriplegics cant move any part of their body and a mime's act is entirely dependent on him having that ability. Here is a basic rundown of the entire movie from start to finish.

• People crying about losing their homes.
• Unrelated story about companies making money by profiting off of their employees dying by buying life insurance on them.
• People crying again.
• Shots of him wearing a baseball hat that doesn't fit.
• The big finale of him driving an armored car up to major financial institutions demanding money, followed by a fifteen minute Obama love fest.

You're right, Mike. Obama is the perfect choice for dealing with a country run completely by banks. I mean its not like Rahm Emanual, who sat on the board of directors of Fannie Mae is his Chief of Staff, or Tim Geithner, a former CEO of Citi Group is the Treasury Secretary, because that would be a preposterous conflict of interest regarding bank bailouts. OH WAIT! BOTH OF THOSE PEOPLE HOLD THOSE RESPECTIVE POSITIONS!

The vast majority of this movie is spent trying to jerkoff your mind's emotional center until your eyes ejaculate tears (yeah that metaphor just happened) by showing you people who were tricked into giving their houses to the banks, who subsequently tear up faster than Glenn Beck. Far more time is spent on the stories of individual people crying than how insanely corrupt our banking system and government are, which is ultimately why this film blows my balls. Also, there is not a single mention of the Federal Reserve Bank, that isn't actually a part of the U.S. government at all and how our monetary system, like a crack head, only creates debt.

Despite the political inconsistency of Moore's views, I recommend this movie because there are a few scarcely covered events he touches on that I can only described as "hella fucked up" and you'll be all like, "holy shit thats hella fucked up" for DAYS. For instance, a company makes millions by privatizing the juvenile detention center in a small town in Pennsylvania, and a somewhat bipartisan look at why the house market crashed and how the bailout was pushed through. So if you're a lib you've probably already seen this movie the day it came out and if you adhere to the other political ideology(there are ONLY two), watch it until the last fifteen minutes when he gives Obama the closest film equivalent to oral sex, and instead watch the final twenty minutes of Rambo.

Ron Paul 12'

Sports Commentators Aren't Biased Towards the Lakers at All

Before I begin, let me say that today's win was great for me because I've been a Blazers fan for years and have been following them all season. Even the pre-draft workouts.

In the viscous, semen filled minds of all major national sports commentators the Blazers have never beaten the Lakers as a result of their own skill, comparable to five Jesus Christs playing basketball at the same time. This is because the Lakers are the best team in the NBA, Kobe Bryant is like ten Jesus Christs rolled into one... Super Jesus, and a low seeded playoff team like Portland could never conceivably defeat them. Ever.

Today, the Blazers beat the Lakers 91-88, through no fault of their own of course. The final dagger in the chest of the Lakers (wish that wasn't metaphorical) was when Kobe Bryant and Derek Fisher missed three consecutive free throws. But according to an FSN sportscaster, the Blazers won because of "questionable decisions on the part of the Lakers"

Bryant; making an important decision

Yeah, Kobe Bryant merely decided to miss his free throws just to keep things interesting. Every time the Blazers beat the Lakers it seems like it is largely ignored and excuses are made as to why it happened, and never have I heard, "wow, the Blazers are so good, they beat the Lakers at their home court without Brandon Roy for a half". But no, all I hear is that "Kobe Bryant decided not to make a few free throws, just to be ironic". Hey sportscasters; Fuck ya'll, all ya'll.

In n Out burger coming to oregon

Yeah bitches you heard it here first. Someone who goes to oes' dad has decided to pay twenty million dollars to open up a fast food restaraunt. you can trust my sources too, because I heard it from my friend Nik who heard it from a kid who goes to OES highschool who probably wasn't exaggerating or making it all up for the purpose of getting attention. Probably.

2012 Cataclysmically Reviewed

Source: I have my fucking sources...

First and foremost, I'd like to say fuck you to every person involved in the making of this movie. Mainly to the writers, directors, John Cusack, and most of all to the little girl who screamed the entire fucking time.

The premise of the movie is simple enough; the world is going to end, and the Mayans, along with many other primitive civilizations, saw it coming. The disasters are brought about by neutrinos--small subatomic particles emitted by the sun--mutating. You know, because subatomic particles can mutate. The neutrinos ultimately end up completely a-raping the earth's tectonic plate and volcanic systems by heating them up. The Mayans knew all about it all thanks to their advanced knowledge of the sun's solar flare cycles, plate tectonic theory, quantum physics, and location of every volcano on earth. All of these elements play a crucial role in conveying the deep underlying theme of the movie; people will watch any movie with a high special effects budgets.

John Cusack responds to this by saving his incredibly annoying family from several disasters by mere inches, and its made incredibly awkward because he is separated from his wife and her boyfriend comes with them and ultimately ends up dying near the end. *SPOILER ALERT*. Every scene involving John Cusack provides an important role in the story progression; they are setups for the special effects sequences.

Aside from this main plot there are about seventeen other subplots that eventually end up relating to each other at some point in the movie. This is entirely original, and has never been done before in a movie, especially not Pulp Fiction. These subplots include things like a conspiracy theorist who saw the whole thing coming, a black jazz musician who falls off the wagon after twenty five years, and a wealthy Russian man and his prostitute wife.

The other co-main-plot, if there is such a thing, involves an intrepid geographical researcher who figures out that the end of the world is coming. His findings of course, are initially dismissed and mocked. This has never been done before in a movie, especially not in the movie The Day After Tomorrow. All these plots and subplots are incredibly interesting, and this would be a respectable film on its own right regardless of its ten-times-the-GDP-of-most-third-world-countries special effects budget.

Just kidding. The entire purpose of this movie is to dazzle audiences with special effects. The plot of this movie is less important than the plot to most pornos. The special effects alone would be reason enough to watch this movie if they had excluded one character from this movie; the seven year old daughter.

I can deal with a plot that has less science in it than the Creationist Museum, low rate actors trying to salvage what's left of their career, and dialog that wouldn't make the grade for a PBS sitcom, but the daughter of this movie makes it completely unwatchable. As stated before, this annoying little bitch screams the whole fucking time. And its not just a soft, short cry of distress, its a piercing shrill that is louder than anything currently happening on screen. For example, her screams are heard over Yellowstone Park exploding, skyscrapers in LA crumbling down, and oh yeah, the entire city of LA falling into the ocean.

I can't possibly convey how much I hate this child. I think the Chinese were really on to something when they decided to start aborting all females. Too bad the whole country's a fascist sausage fest now, kind of like Germany in the forty's. Except that was with real sausages, not cocks. Oh by the way, the president in this movie is foreign and black, just like in real life.

For those of you how are financially or religiously restricted from viewing this movie, I made a convenient short novelization of this movie at my latest blog