I'm god-damned sick of the word avid

I'm god-damned sick of the word 'avid'. I'm sick of people saying, "I'm an avid reader." You're an avid asshole is what you are. Reading the god-and-damned funnies on the shitter every morning doesn't make you an avid reader. Read a book, you avid halfwits. Avid. That's a stupid fucking word.

Oh, and Thomas Crapper did not invent the flush toilet. He invented taking a dump in a bag, placing it on someone's stoop, setting that shit on fire, and then ringing the doorbell. Get it right. I'm an avid trivia master.

You know what software I use to edit my movies? Final Cut Pro, and I god-the-damned hate macs.

Send me some money so I can be an avid liver of the sweet life.

Keep your thoughts and prayers to yourself

There's been a lot of tragedy this week, so bad that I won't even joke about trying to profit from it. With this tragedy come plenty of opportunities for people to say "My thoughts and prayers are with " to which I say "Shut the fuck up and keep your thoughts and prayers to yourself." Seriously, I'm goddam sick of this shit. I'm goddam sick of people trying to show how much they care, how much they feel the pain of those who are suffering by just fucking thinking about it. That's not actually doing anything. You're not fucking helping at all. There's no god. There are no miracles. Positive thoughts do not travel through the ether and make everything ok. There's only us, and we have to help each other out when there's trouble. Shit like what's happened this week sucks, but the response, the real response-not your fucking happy thoughts-makes me feel that maybe as a species we're not totally fucked. Sure, we do terrible things to each other, but when we're in trouble people step up. So, if you want to do something, do it, and make sure it's something I can actually see, not some fucking thought experiment. Remember in The Firm when they billed people for time they were just thinking about the case? Same goddam thing. Exactly the same.

That's right, I said it; there's no god. Life is finite. Deal with it. Do you seriously think a god would create the universe and then base acceptance into paradise on belief in that god? Makes no sense at all. It's like me taking a cat, painting it red, sticking it in my closet (next to the hooker), and then telling you I won't pay for dinner unless you believe in my cat. It's exactly goddam like that. Fuck, how can you be so goddam gullible? Thousands of years ago, people believed in gods, and looking back we think "What a bunch of stupid bastards. They believed in that shit?" What will we look like to people thousands of years from now. "Hmm, within a couple of generations they split the atom and started the information age. Oh, and they believed in invisible friends." Fucking hell. Fuck this. I need a goddam drink.

Computers have already taken over

Did you see that shit on Jeopardy? A goddam computer wiped the floor with two of the biggest nerds they've ever had on there. Scary shit. Too bad the son-of-a-bitch had to use refrigerator-sized servers to do it; I could have done the same goddam thing with just one refrigerator, full of ice cold Coca-Cola.

Everyone's pissing themselves and saying the world is ending because the computers are smarter than we are, and I say fuck it, maybe it is the end of the world and maybe it's time we made out before we become enslaved by goddam robots with goddam mechanical wangs.

With the computer/robot revolution coming, what good is your money? It's probably a burden on you. Let Mick Aloha take your burdens away. Give me your money. Let's go on an escapade.

Now, I'm off to study goddam binary.

When are these goddam conservatives going to cut their own salaries?

Hooray! The goddam conservatives are in control! That means more fiscal responsibility, which means less of me taking care of poor people. I'm all for it. Mick Aloha works hard to make his money. Why should he share it? Why should lazy assholes take money from Mick Aloha, the man who made it on his goddam own?

I was thinking this new congress might, in a gesture of doing all they can, vote to cut their own salaries. Most of them are goddam rich, anyway. Richer than Mick Aloha, which pisses me off. I did some checking and found that the legislation to do just that was already put forward in this congress...by Gabby Giffords. Yeah, she was shot two days later.

Cut your goddam salaries you goddam assholes. The country's hurting and you rich pricks don't even seem to notice it. Mick Aloha doesn't notice it, either, but Mick Aloha's a self-made man. Mick Aloha rules. Mick Aloha is the greatest man on the face of the earth, including the interior face of the hollow earth. Mick Aloha is better than the mole people. The goddam mole people have probably already cut their own goddam salaries.

So, what can be done? Well, if you're richer than Mick Aloha, you should send me money. If you're poorer than Mick Aloha, then shut the hell up and work harder. Oh, and if you're a hot lady, let's make out. And someone please, please call the Onion and get me a goddam cushy job.

Area man finds wang

I guess there's a lot of money in fake news. The Onion's raking in the dough, so I thought I'd try a little something out. Consider this my audition for the Onion writing team. Onion, if you don't hire me based on this material, I'll have to start a competing fake news site and out-fake news you. Here are the latest headlines:

Area dog figures it's time to have sex again

Date with hooker going better than expected

Drunk man figures it all out

Area man joins church for the poon

Cat allergic to itself

Hippopotamus angry that no one ever uses its full name

Giraffe joins church for the poon

Trout, father of 289, still missing

Internet bored with itself

Bill Gates' belt cures malaria

Unionized moles refuse to wear helmets

Toys tired of not being taken seriously

Tax documents angry that no one ever plays with them

Area man disappointed by legitimate massage parlor

Area woman finds wang

Attention Lady Gaga: I hear you like meat

Dear Lady Gaga,

I seen that meat dress you were wearing. If you like meat so much, then how about a bone?

Fuck PETA. PETA can kiss my goddam ass. She was wearing a dress made out of beef, not panda or goddam albatross. Who's to say that meat wasn't cooked up and eaten after the VMAs? Who's to say it wasn't I, Mick Aloha, who ate it? Who's to say I didn't eat that meat and then make out with Lady Gaga? She's probably the one to say that, and that's why I'm goddam pissed.

See, I have a theory. Have you seen that goddam movie with Jodie Foster where she switches bodies with a prostitute with a heart of gold and ends up an FBI agent on an airplane where her daughter disappeared and then she ends up in some ridiculous goddam room with no escape routes? Yeah, it reminds me of that movie. That guy who likes to keep girls in wells and tuck his junk is trying to use the skin of fat-ass girls to make his own girly skin or some shit like that. I can't remember, really. I seen that back in high school, and if you'd wrecked your truck and taken as many blows to the head as I have, you wouldn't remember a goddam thing. So, I think Lady Gaga wants to be a cow. It's ok, Lady Gaga. Mick Aloha doesn't mind. Get your cow on and all that. Cow-abunga, Lady Gaga. Wanna make out?

Before you say it, shut up. I know you're wondering why I want to make out with Lady Gaga. I know she's gross. But, let me be clear; I'd make out with pretty much any girl who didn't have a mustache. Actually, one night I made out with all kinds of girls who didn't have mustaches. Best night of my life. Worst night of my life? Same night.

So, Lady Gaga, I know it's tough being a celebrity and crazy, so here's an idea; put on that meat dress (or better yet, a similar dress with fresher cuts), and then get your hottest lady friend to put on a suit of fries. Then, have your second hottest friend put on a suit of Coca-Cola. Then, all of you ladies need to get really, really drunk (at your own expense), and then give me a call and we'll see what happens. Don't worry; I can TiVo my shows. Hell, I've got my own hotel room.

OK, now on to Cher. I hear you're 64 years-old. Despite your incredible age, I have to admit I liked seeing you dressed up like in that video on the ship that I watched a few thousand times. Really, you were never that much to look at, but, well, you're doable. There, I said it. Now, I know your outfit was sexy, but do you have anything that more closely resembles a Coca-Cola? Either way, if you're looking for a man half your age, and you don't mind pretty much supporting me for the rest of my life in a good-life fashion, let me know.

comedy routine, hooker sensitivity, Sarah Palin

I was looking for some great content on the web the other day and came across this site. I thought, "Wow, whoever wrote this is a goddamned genius. Superb. Indeed, superb." I was about halfway through reading this great content when I realized I'm the one who wrote it. I'm so awesome I amaze myself, which is how it should be. Then I thought, "Hell, might as well give the hungry masses a new post so they'll give me some money." Then I thought, "A gin sour's sounding pretty good right about now." I got drunk and woke up in a laundromat. I don't even use the laundromat, unless I need change for the Coke machine. You know, a Coke's sounding pretty good right about now. Anyway, here's a new post. Send me money.

What have I been doing since my last post? Working on my comedy routine, that's what I've been doing. Here's the only joke I've written so far. "What do synchronized swimmers and hookers have in common? 1) They both wear too much makeup. 2) They spend a lot of time with their legs up in the air. 3) They both fuck for money." But seriously, folks. Now, I just need to write about 50 more of those, ok, more like 30 if you factor in the laughter, to get me a Comedy Central special.

Speaking of hookers, do you think they get offended when people talk about dead hookers? You know, you're at a party and you're all, "Yeah, so anyway, dude, I used my disposable income to get myself a new Ford and you should see the trunk space. Do you know how many goddamn dead...oh, uh, cats I could get in that trunk?" See, the part where you changed is where your hooker friend walked up, and although you don't care too much if you offend her or not, you'd still like to do her.

Speaking of hookers and ladies I'd like to do, how about that Sarah Palin? She's landed herself a gig over on Fox News, which just teaches you that quitting pays. Why aren't they hiring me over at Fox? They could put on 24 hours of Aloha and the ratings would go through the roof. So anyway, ol' Palin was talking to Glenn Beck and he asked her who her favorite Founding Father was and she said, "All of them." That dumb bitch uses that same goddamn answer for every question.

Interviewer: In how many buildings in Wasilla have you made sweet love to Mick Aloha?

Sarah Palin: All of them.

Interviewer: How many members of that synchronized swimming team would you like to get it on, lesbian style, with?

Sarah Palin: All of them.

Interviewer: How much money should readers be sending to Mick Aloha?

Sarah Palin: All of them.

Favorite Founding Father is a goddamn easy question. Hell, I bet even the MMD could answer that one, and he's a goddamn Canadian. Here are Mick Aloha's favorite Founding Fathers in order.

1) Benjamin Franklin
2) Ulysses S. Grant
3) Andrew Jackson
4) Alexander Hamilton
5) Abraham Lincoln (not the penny, though)

Who don't I like? Washington. Unless I'm going to the strip club.

You've heard that there are trace amounts of cocaine on each $100 bill, but what about the non-trace amounts of Aloha's fingerprint on Franklins? Aloha takes cash. Send it my way. Make me rich! If you make me rich, maybe I'll stop stressing out about getting rich and my hives will go away for good. Dehive me, fools!