Monday, September 28, 2009


I was hiking the other day along the Skippack creek and suddenly found myself face to face with a horse. Actually, it was face to giant dong and testicles, but I digress. The person atop the horse smiled at me. I smiled and waved at him until I realized that his smile was actually an invitation for me to get the fuck off the trail and let him pass. So I did.

But as he was passing me by on the trail, the horse gave me a look filled with such pathos and horsey misery that I went ahead and connected with him telepathically to find out what was wrong.

"What do you mean, what's wrong", said the horse, "I've got a fucking asshole on my back. Get him the fuck off me".

"I would if I could, my equine friend", said I, "For I commiserate with your plight. But the asshole you refer to has some sort of leather-bound weapon of mass destruction in his hands that I fear he won't hesitate to use on me."

"So what you're saying is, you're a pussy", said the horse. "Here, pussy, should I set out a bowl of Purina pussy-food for you, little pussy?"

I felt wounded. "Look, it's not just that I'm a pussy", I said. "I also respect the strategic height advantage that the asshole enjoys by virtue of being aboard your back. One doesn't fight a war one knows one can't win. Sorry dude, hope you have a pleasant life."

And then I continued on my way. It was mighty callous of me, I realized. So I repented. And as I was repenting, I began to think about horses, assholes and why assholes continue to ride horses even in this day and age.

Seriously, what is with horse-riders? I can understand children riding a horse. Children like to do a lot of weird lame shit. Like sit on a vertically oscillating wooden platform. Or climb up a ladder, only to slide back down. Or excavate massive amounts of sand from a beach without first developing a viable business plan to extract valuable minerals from it. Or ride on dad's back.

Riding on dad's back. That's when the seeds of this insanity are first sown. From the back of a dad as a child to the back of a horse as an adult to the backs of random strangers in the mall as a senile old fuck are but logical steps of progression.

My neighborhood is rife with horse-owners. Everywhere you drive you see signs saying, "Caution : horse-crossing", depicting an asshole on a horse crossing a road without first checking to see if a vehicle is approaching. Fucking guy, did you already forget your road-crossing lessons from elementary school? Let me refresh your memory :
1.> Look to the fucking left
2.> Look to the fucking right
3.> Cross the fucking road
4.> Follow these same fucking instructions even if you're on a fucking horse.

Even deer aren't this goddamn stupid and they didn't even go to school. What's your excuse, asshole?

But returning to my original point, why are people still riding horses anyways?

Some people might say, why are you so bloody concerned about horses when you stuff your face with cow every day? Trust me, when the day arrives that they manage to create cow from cardboard, I will happily stuff my face with that. Because as of now, I do not have an alternative. But in your case, hey, it's already been 80 years since the internal combustion engine was invented. Can we upgrade already? And don't talk to me about riding a bicycle. Bicycles burn calories. That's their purpose. What does horse-riding burn, except your inner thigh, and that too, only if you're doing it naked? (Which, for the record, I am all for. Not the thigh-burning but the naked riding. Because it serves a purpose)

Some people pretend to look at it from the horse's point of view. They say horses like to be ridden. Fuck you. Your horse hates you. If it could speak, it would recite a little haiku for you. It would go like this :

Fuck you,
Ride me?
I'll ride
To death.

What the fuck does a horse know about haiku?

Look, I can understand horse-racing. For it is a sport. The world has all kinds of weird sports that don't necessarily have to make any sense. Like cock-fighting. And basketball. Even as we speak, somebody somewhere is inventing a sport where you slide a rock along an icy surface towards a target as you run behind it with broom in hand. What's that, it's already been invented? Just serves to illustrate my point.

I can also understand descending into the Grand Canyon on the back of a horse. Okay, a mule, if you want to be an anal SOB. Because the fact is, you're too much of a wimp to do it on foot, and yet you harbor a desire to immerse yourself in the cooling waterfalls of the Havasu. A mule is your only option. And it breaks your fall if you lose your footing and crash into the abyss.

But I just cannot understand the need or the desire to ride a horse into the woods. Why are you not walking? Were you born without knee-caps? Why are you wearing that stupid cap? And is that a cup of tea in your hands? You disgust me. On multiple levels. As a human being, and as someone who wears a stupid cap while drinking tea.

Stop riding horses, Mankind. It is time to quit this barbaric practice.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009


I really hate you. But I won't kill you because :

Hindu gawker : I'll be born as a rat in my next incarnation, which would suck because I am lactose intolerant and claustrophobic. Oh, if I could only digest dairy products and tolerate closed spaces!

Christian gawker : Much as I would love to, I do not have the authority. I would rather wait for our Lord, the Christ, to return to earth on judgment day and have his way with your sorry ass. I hope spiked dildos are involved. It should be fun.

Muslim gawker : It's Ramadan today and I am not allowed to kill you on Ramadan. Oh, I so wish it weren't Ramadan today. Could you meet me here again tomorrow, you think?

Buddhist gawker : Killing you would give me great pleasure, but since pleasure only leads to suffering, it would hamper my quest for a permanent state of enlightenment or Nirvana, even though I believe Soundgarden was in fact the best 90s Seattle-based band.

Jain gawker : My religion forbids me from harming living beings. You are alive, aren't you? Maybe if you pretended you weren't breathing for a second so I could tell people I didn't know you were alive and then I could jump up and down on your face.....Godamnit, you're breathing again. Ah well, I'll just go shoot a pillow instead. Oh wait, I can't, there's probably a bacterial colony living on it. Motherfuck!

Atheist gawker : I won't kill you because a> it wouldn't be a nice thing to do, b> It's against the law and c> Maintaining the integrity of this law is essential to my own survival.