‘Puter’s Sh*t List: Volume I
Now they’ve gone and done it. ‘Puter’s finally had enough. Enough of the hypocrisy of our media betters. Enough of the dipshittery masquerading as trenchant commentary. Enough of the unearned self-esteem. Enough of the asshattery of certain voters.
The following people and groups of people have officially made ‘Puter’s sh*t list.
Media. Oh, now you’re concerned Obama may not be up to the job of the presidency? Now, after five years of you round heeled slatterns fellating Obama in a weak attempt to curry favor while America burned? Now you’re concerned? Well, you can all suck ‘Puter’s love hog.* Where were you when it mattered? That’s right, flat on your back counting ceiling tiles while The One worked you over like a two bit whore during Fleet Week. You sold your souls to a man who ruined America. There’s a special place in Hell reserved for you.
Harry Reid. If ‘Puter hears this deranged homunculus whine about the Koch brothers or Republican obstruction one more time, he’s going to repeatedly nut-punch the nearest liberal hippie until he cries.** Jesus H. Tap-Dancing Christ on a Bicycle, Harry. You’ve run the Senate for the last 8 years. If there hasn’t been any progress, you have no one to blame but yourself. Now please set yourself on fire and play in traffic, you bitter, evil man.
Millennials. The only currently living generation whinier than Millennials are the Boomers, which is apt since Boomers spawned these precious snowflakes. No, life did not begin when you were born, despite your overinflated and unearned sense of self importance. No, the world doesn’t owe you a high paying, satisfying job in an industry of your choice just because you graduated in six years from Directional State University with a major in Fill-in-the-Blank Studies and a minors in Beer Pong and Sorority Girl Poon Diving.
Puter’s sorry you have $150,000 in student loans (which you spent on a bitchin’ new car and monthly trips to Cancun), but your piss poor life decisions aren’t his problem. Shut up, man up and get on with it, you sniveling idiots.
Purity Before Unity Republicans. “Oh, no! My favorite candidate didn’t win the primary because he was an untested, unvetted nut job who got caught on election eve banging underage donkeys in Tijuana! I’ll never vote for the Republican 65% of Republicans liked more!”
If this is something you would say, you are an immature putz who’s too stupid to exercise your franchise. Do the world a favor and either die in a fire or get a vasectomy so you can’t spread your stupidity to future generations. ‘Puter’s sure he’s too stupid to comprehend the awesome-osity in your masterful plan to keep Democrats in power forever because your feelings are hurt. Here, let ‘Puter help you hold your breath while you tantrum by holding your head underwater in the Castle’s septic tank.
Reparations Advocatesasides, etc.). Yes, Blacks were enslaved in America. Yes, slavery is evil and wrong. No living American has a direct memory of slavery. No living American owned slaves.
You can have your reparations when America pays me for letting vandals break all the windows in my German great-grandfather’s grocery store located on frikkin’ Capitol Hill during WWI. You can have your reparations when Jews get paid for America refusing them entry in WWII when our government knew damn well that doing so was probably a death sentence.
We all have historic grievances. You’re no better and no worse than anyone else. Quit living in the past and try making your future better instead.
Race Hucksters. Al Sharpton, Jesse Jackson (Jr. and III), all critical race theorists and anyone else who uses race as an excuse or an entitlement or both are evil. You have poisoned the well for the rest of us. It is not a valid argument to scream “Racist!” and pretend that settles it. You are cowards and bigots, enriching yourself off making the world worse for everyone else. May you spend eternity with your testicles glued to the bumper of a Metrobus trying desperately to keep pace as you inhale stale diesel fumes and endure the mockery of passers-by.
There’s plenty more people who didn’t make the cut this week, and ‘Puter feels his pent-up rage ebbing. Don’t worry, though. ‘Puter’s certain there’s more than enough idiots who will do their best to enrage him in the coming days.
Stay tuned.
* Since America’s quickly being overrun by Spanish speakers, you may prefer puerco d’amor.
** Since liberal beta males are usually crying, this shouldn’t take long. Of course, liberal beta males have notoriously small testicles (they’re busy trying to climb back up into their owners’ abdomens and become ovaries), so ‘Puter will have to find them first.
Always right, unless he isn’t, the infallible Ghettoputer F. X. Gormogons claims to be an in-law of the Volgi, although no one really believes this.
’Puter carefully follows economic and financial trends, legal affairs, and serves as the Gormogons’ financial and legal advisor. He successfully defended us against a lawsuit from a liquor distributor worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid deliveries of bootleg shandies.
The Geep has an IQ so high it is untestable and attempts to measure it have resulted in dangerously unstable results as well as injuries to researchers. Coincidentally, he publishes intelligence tests as a side gig.
His sarcasm is so highly developed it borders on the psychic, and he is often able to insult a person even before meeting them. ’Puter enjoys hunting small game with 000 slugs and punt guns, correcting homilies in real time at Mass, and undermining unions. ’Puter likes to wear a hockey mask and carry an axe into public campgrounds, where he bursts into people’s tents and screams. As you might expect, he has been shot several times but remains completely undeterred.
He assures us that his obsessive fawning over news stories involving women teachers sleeping with young students is not Freudian in any way, although he admits something similar once happened to him. Uniquely, ’Puter is unable to speak, read, or write Russian, but he is able to sing it fluently.
Geep joined the order in the mid-1980s. He arrived at the Castle door with dozens of steamer trunks and an inarticulate hissing creature of astonishingly low intelligence he calls “Sleestak.” Ghettoputer appears to make his wishes known to Sleestak, although no one is sure whether this is the result of complex sign language, expert body posture reading, or simply beating Sleestak with a rubber mallet.
‘Puter suggests the Czar suck it.