Go fuck yourself. No one listens to you, except for the few people that watch the 700 club in the morning because its better than watchin Suzanne Sommers on the Home Shopping Network (or so they say). No one believes that God himself is responsible for terrorism or for hurricanes or the fact that you look like a wrinkled old assprune. Perhaps someday someone should consider assasinating you, you are preaching a more toxic message of hate here to A-Merkins than any foreign dictators.

Signed,
America.

PS. Really. Go fuck yourself.

So you want to see the kind of shit that goes on in my office?

Last night, I was keeping to myself, having a Dr. Pepper. I set the can down in the back and went out to the floor (everyone leaves their drinks in the back). The other three people working; Erica, Derrick and Andrea; were in the back counting Erica's drawer and talking. I went back again after Erica and Andrea had left to get another drink. About a third of the can poured out all over my white shirt and my tie. Derrick said "oh, they must have slit a hole in your can." It was the perfect size for a box cutter gouge. I was pissed off. Derrick kept laughing like he knew who did it, but wasn't giving me any information. I told him how pissed off I was (just by keeping quiet which, in John language at work, means I am pissed off). He finally admitted to me that he did it. He didn't think it was going to pour out, maybe just get a little on my chin. Never to be outpranked, I quietly plotted my revenge.

When Erica had left, she left Derrick two cigarettes on the back counter. He smoked one right after they left (and right after the Dr. Pepper incident). While he was out having a cigarette, I took the remaining smoke and shoved it up both sides of my nose, all the way in to the good stuff, and took pictures. Then i laid it back on the counter, and he was none the wiser. When he went out to have his last smoke break right before closing, I sent him the pictures so that he would get them while enjoying his smoke. It was hilarious. All I could say is, "Don't fuck with me..."

I love eet!

Anyone who has read my journal before knows that Fred Phelps has been discussed here. He is the biggot, son of a bitch "pastor" of Westboro "Baptist" "Church" in Westboro, KS (made up mostly of his inbred children and their horriffically ugly children). He also runs God Hates Fags (not work safe). Looking for amusing hate pictures today, I came across this one..


WhatEVER will the gay community do without the support of these seven handsome young men??

I am so glad that Phelps is starting his inbred trisomey grandchilden on a path of hatred soon. I hope that a plane (with no one in it, of course, im not a monster) crashes into his "church" and kills everyone in there in a firey blaze.



After posting the last picture, I realized that the sign contains the EXTREMELY silly sounding phrase "but(t) my (w)hole" hahahaha.

Beating cancer, and coming back to keep yourself is such great physical shape IS an amazing acheivement. Winning one, let alone seven Tour de France races IS also an amazing acheivement.

Doing it while doped up on performance enhancers is just wrong and means that you're a jackass that took the victory from someone who was stronger than you and worked harder at attaining that goal.

I am not a laboratory, nor do I know all of the facts (nor do I care an immense amount). But here is what I do know:

*Armstrong's 1999 sample, tested recently, came back positive for EPO.
*Armstrong's trainer has come out and said before that she traveled to obtain enhancers for him.
*The American sports media has made such a hero out of him, that they don't want to submit a mea culpa and admit that he's no better than those baseball players on steroids.
*According to NPR, Armstrong has 18 ATTORNEYS working on pending litigation around the world. Michael Jackson, a possible child molester and award winner for the wierdest person alive doesn't even have a third of that. Why would an athlete who kicks all around butt need 18 attorneys? He has so much money that he can put any claim to rest and has 18 attorneys going around scaring people with litigation.

I'm just glad I didn't buy one of those stupid yellow bracelets. Not that cancer research is a bad thing at all. Having a phony represent a lifestyle of "living strong" while he is doping himself to acheive athletic performance is like OJ Simpson selling anti-domestic violence bracelets and pleding the money to find his "Wife's Real Killer (TM)."

I bet the thing you wouldn't want to say to the jurors is:

"There's things I choose to do, like, if I go in a store and choose to take a Snicker's bar," Reed testified. "If you catch me, you catch me. If not, I'm going to go home and eat it up and go on about my business, dog."

This wouldn't be so bad if he also didn't tell jurors that he didn't care if they put him away for life. So they did. The 31 year old received 99 years in prison. Hahaha. fucker.