Welcome back to the show,
I’m the Amoral Crackpot, Steve Arviso.
And thank you for chilling with me tonight.
I’m feelin’ good today.
Like the clouds have parted a bit,
and I’m seein’ Mr. Blue Sky and shit.
The marijuana might have something to do with that.
It’s very possible, in fact.
But I like to pretend it’s just my sunny disposition shining through for a moment.
Lets me forget how much of a miserable fuck I really am.
For a little bit.
Just a bit.
Maybe I’m crazy–
again, it’s very possible.
but it feels to me–
and please correct me if I’m wrong–
or kiss my nuts and tell me I’m a genius–
but it feels like there’s a little sanity returning to the world.
James Gunn is back after a bunch of unfair bullshit being dumped on him.
He’s not just returning to the Guardians of the Galaxy franchise,
but he’s also helming the Suicide Squad reboot
for Warner and DC Comics.
he’s replacing Will Smith with Idris Elba.
And if that’s not a bit of a geeky antidepressant,
I don’t know what is.
On the flip side:
everyone involved in this fuckin’ sham of a government
seems to be getting worked over real good lately.
Good. Fuck ‘em.
All of ‘em.
I don’t know why anyone thought having
a bunch of septagenarians run the country–
regardless of whatever bullshit they’re selling–
was a good fuckin’ idea.
I get it.
Trump is like that uncle your mom told you to never be alone with.
And it’s good to watch that son of a bitch squirm on TV
whenever he tries to spin his upcoming public trial
into a fuckin’ win.
Or when his stupid grown-ass kids
use anything associated with fuckin’ Facebook
for private government businesses.
But on the other side, you’ve got people like Bernie Sanders
talkin’ about accountability and speakin’ truth to power,
Or some horseshit.
And yet this walking liver-spot won’t release his own tax returns.
I’m starting to suspect that Grandpa Bernie might be a politician.
Speakin’ of which:
My wife and I finally filed our taxes.
And going by all the looks I see
whenever anyone mentions filing taxes this year,
maybe, just maybe,
somebody fucked up pretty bad.
I wonder who that might have fuckin’ been…
At this point,
I’m not even surprised by how hard we’re getting fucked.
In taxes, or anything else.
For fuck’s sake,
we have self-described sexual assaulters
and a whole host of various perverts
And we’re all fucked up enough to keep electing these sick fucks.
They might be sadists,
but we’re fuckin’ masochists.
some of this is my own damn fault.
I live here, afterall.
But there’s something to be said
about being forced to “choose”
between a penalty of several-hundred dollars
for not having health insurance coverage,
or the somehow even greater cost
of insurance that literally didn’t cover anything anyway.
I’m pretty sure that something is “bullshit,”
but according to a vocal minority of blithering fuckfaces in this country,
I’m apparently incorrect.
Must just be my perspective, I suppose.
Well, on the brightside:
at least my wife and I helped a bunch of billionaires
save a few bucks.
We are a charitable family, indeed.
And I suppose I also find a little comfort,
just a little,
in knowing Preston Q. Inbred-Slackjaw IV
isn’t going to go without his name
plastered across an ivy league university’s new library wing,
thus ensuring he’s enrolled as a top-tier lacrosse player
despite being a literal mindless sack of flesh.
Wouldn’t want him to bring even more shame to his family.
Also, I now have some new material.
But what about you?
You doin’ a’ight?
How hard did Uncle Pussy-Grabber fuck you and yours this year?
Let me know however you can.
be excellent to each other.