Friday, October 20, 2006

We interrupt the bitching in progress...

I need to interrupt my latest rant to bring you the following message.

Fuck Apathy!

After two weeks of working 7 days a week (the demand for Yo-Yos lately has exceeded all of our projected sales models), I am bone-tired and soul-weary. I am full of Fukit, and it is threatening to tach out my Givadam. On top of that, I am in constant pain from (what I hope is only) gallstones.

Since I am reluctant to part with any more body... er, uh, parts*, I found a treatment that doesn't involve scapels, anesthesia, or naughty little gowns that don't close in the back. The problem is that it takes one full day of treatments every half hour, and then another day to recover from the treatments. Yeah. Welcome to Hell.

Maybe one day soon I will go into detail about how well our children are being so supportive at this time of crisis. The short version is that they have taken to yelling and beating each other in an attempt to alleviate me of that responsibility. Isn't that sweet?

Aretta, my darling, beleaguered wife, is at this moment, trying to suck the residual dust from her empty bottle of St. John's Wort in between long pulls on her Heineken bottle.

I'll get back to you.
Later.
Probably.


*Yo-Yo winding can be very dangerous.

Monday, October 16, 2006

Who Speaks for the Silent? Part II

The Courts System

Arguably one of the cornerstones of a free democratic system of government, and yet it is so corrupt that justice has become the mat upon which the judge wipes his feet when he enters the lounge at his favorite club. For the lawyers, it is a convenience to be dispensed with if there is the slightest chance that it will impair their chances of winning the case.

Case in point: Despite her good looks, charm, intellect, and divine endowments, my wife does have an ex-husband, Hugh Jarse. I have heard that some people are unable to cope with perfection; I can only assume that he is one of those people. Anyway, two of our children, Juan and Tewe, visit their father every other weekend despite the fact that he lives 200 hundred miles across the state line.

After several years of this, it came to pass that Juan and Tewe expressed a desire to not spend the weekend at their Father's hovel. When asked why, they finally related tales of psychological and physical abuse. Like most good parents would do, Aretta and I chuckled and patted their heads, saying, “There, there, children, it can’t be that bad.” Then they showed us the evidence of that abuse. We photographed and recorded and transcribed as thoroughly as we could in preparation for persuading the man to change his ways.

We were bushwhacked when we were served for denying Hugh's legal custody. We asked the kids how they felt about the situation; they believed that the abuse would continue and did not want to go back. So Aretta and I gathered up our photographs and testimonials. A Guardian ad litem spoke with the children. We marched into the courtroom full of righteousness and faith in goodness and fairness. We were protecting our children. We were in the right. ...and we could prove it.

Imagine our shock when Hugh's lawyer got all the evidence thrown out because it was “irrelevant” to the case, and Judge Blohard agreed.

We were ordered to send our children back into Hell; and then to add insult to injury, we were required to travel the 200 miles to his village for the transfer every two weeks.

So far, Hugh has been minding his Ps and Qs, but I'm not counting on that to last.

Keep in mind that at no point in this narrative did I mention the lawyer's or the judge's real names, nor did I ever mention the multiple allegations of corruption we found all over the Internet.

It's okay to put children in abusive environments, but you have to be very careful about what you say, and about whom you say it.

Outraged yet? Stay tuned for more.

Saturday, October 14, 2006

Who speaks for the silent?

Everyone in our society is entitled to at least some rights (it says so right here on the label); but there is a class of people whose rights are not enforced because they lack the voice to cry out against injustice. They are the children.

“But, Lo!” you cry, “Are there not organizations of well-intentioned adults who cry and wail at great length and mighty volume in support of children’s rights?” Well that may be so where you live, but not in the city under the Arch.

Over the next few days, I will be putting up a series of posts which will graphically demonstrate how the courts and the schools systematically fail our children, and undermine the efforts of conscientious parents to raise children to become well-adjusted adults.

Stay tuned, the fun is just beginning.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

I must be a colon because my best friend is an asshole!

Since we are just getting to know each other, you probably aren't aware that I am married. Her name is Aretta Wendt-Dare-Dundatt. (We have to order our checks custom-made; size 10, extra long.) My blessed Aretta is one of the few bright spots of my life, and definitely the brightest of those bright spots.

So you can imagine how utterly pissed off I was when the light of my life told me that my best friend, Rollie, was hitting on her every time I turned my head!

Now, I know that there are some people who would suggest that Aretta is nothing more than a trophy wife who married me just to get her hands on the fat salary of a Yo-Yo winder, but they couldn't be more wrong. Ours is a true love--a love born out of great sex and a common love of pirates. It's not like she's dissatisfied with her marriage in any way, and it's not as if he has anything to offer her that I haven't already stuffed her to the gills with.

This is all about one peckerhead who, jaded and bored with his own wife, has decided that he wants to try mine. With friends like these, who needs enemas, right? (Well, actually I could stand to flush this shit out of my life, but you get my point.)

Your thoughts?

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Here I am!!!!

Greetings, bloggers, lurkers, and other electronic miscreants. I am Bennett Dare-Dundatt (call me Ben) and this is my first blog. As an otherwise intelligent and mentally stable person, I have found it necessary to start this endeavor because...

1) My family is disowning me one guilt trip at a time,
2) My friends are becoming degenerates and idiots
(Actually, they always were degenerates and idiots; it's just taken me a while to realize it.), and
3) I can't afford therapy...

Therefore, I have no other recourse than to unload my accumulated angst on you.

Lucky bastards.