Gibblers
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Random TXB Commentary on Vol. I of Gerry's Random Funny Pictures Not Used on His Facebook

The lez is hot.
Porn is good.
The true indication of a wild woman is her complete disregard for grammar rules...and her love of anal.
The fire-breathing snowman is the offspring of the Heat Miser and the Cold Miser. Yes, they're both dudes, but they're also deities, and deities can have a kid thru anal sex--or they can immaculately impregnate some wild woman...thru anal sex.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
TXB's Box
No, I'm not becoming a chick. I rented a movie recently called The Box. It sucked. So here's my box: it's got numbers and dials on it...plus, of course, a big fucking button in the middle of all the dials. You get to set how long you'll live. For reals. And let's establish up front that there's no Tennyson's Tithonus-like curse attached: you're not gonna be bedridden at 150 yrs. old with every single bone of yer body broken or anything. Hell, let's just say there's more dials related to aging/non-aging, good health...all that jazz. You can fix it so's you'll be in reasonably good health for the rest of yer life--and you won't look so old that only Betty White would fuck you. So...what time/age do you set the dials for? Me, I'd set it so that I'd live about another two hours...just long enough for one last trip to the Chinese buffet and maybe a pint of Ben and Jerry's after. That's all...I've seen enough of this world...it ain't all that interesting that I need to stick around to watch us buttfuck the environment until it's inhospitable to humans...also, life in the age of cell phones and all the other little gadgets we jerk off to is so lame. The box is a more dignified gadget--and after you use it, it's gone from yer short life forever (t'will be short no matter what, eh). The dials are set. Now push the button, kids.
Spring Break Break
Gotta take a break from Spring Break...cuz I'm grading like a motherfucker. Sure, it's fun at times...when you get to read an essay about a man dealing with "importence." Take all the Viagra you want, pal, but it ain't gonna cure ya of importence. In other news, Dan Ho is supposedly coming to town. I saw a funny title at the porn store t'other day that had "Ho" in it, but I forget the rest. My fave recent porn title based on a movie title is Battle of the Thai Teens. Lessee that in 3-D. Also, while I'm grading I sometimes leave on stupid shit like The View for background noise. The fuck?! Could those hos say anything more about that Rielle Hunter broad? Look, we Americans seem constitutionally bound to care, for whatever reason, about whoever got clawed by Tiger's penis...but John Edwards' ho? Really? We have to give a shit about that? About something involving a skeeze that isn't even in politics anymore...and the skeezette he fucked...and the baby skeeze that came forth from those fatal loins? Nawsir. In other newz, Kurt Vonnegut's unpublished short fiction wuz formerly unpublished for a reason...not horrible, but nothing all that revelatory. Also, I hear tell that MTV banned the new Lady Gaga video cuz it wuz too controversial...which of course means that the video, incoherent and silly as it is, comes close to being art...and that just don't fit with MTV's current schedule of incoherent and silly horseshit.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Jungle Rules
Life is a strange thing. We have no guarantee of its continuance. Quite the opposite: we have a guarantee that it will end. I like that part. It's really the only rocksolid guarantee you'll ever get. There's also a bit of comfort in that death--if no one else in this wide universe--is not a respecter of persons. It's kinda funny, when you think about it, that Donald Trump is going to die. Can't buy yer way out of it, Donny. Oh, sure: console yerself. Put yer name on shit and have kids and continue the Trump dynasty. But even empires are sands in the hourglass, dude, and you fucking well know it. Sleep tight. Still, it's strange how easy it is for us to let people die who prolly didn't have to die. You'd think the purportedly richest country would set some baseline priority that we're not going to let people die before their time unless they actually want to die. It's weird how we haven't really left the jungle or the woods or the desert. We beat down nature and build up something called civilization, but at the end of the day the rules of the wild still apply: we care for self and tribe first, and say fuck everyone else. In a way that seems valid to me, but it's also troubling to think that I or any of my tribe could be caught up with a bit of bad fortune--and that the larger society will sometimes say, "You can seek help from your tribe, or you can die. We will not help you." If you don't have faithful family and/or friends in your tribe at that point--or if you need more help than they can provide--yer fucked. And this is all a roundabout way of meditating on how three people are being fired without cause at our little institution of higher learning in Jefferson County--and while there is a tribe there for them that is frustrated and vocal, the message from TPTB seems the same as the one that society gives: "Seek help where you can, but we don't care if you can provide for yourself or your family."
Monday, March 08, 2010
Random Thoughts on the Oscar Suckfest
