porkjerky plog
You Ain’t Shit
Here’s a corollary and the bright side to Friday’s post:
No matter how famous you’ve become, nor how much your car cost, nor how attractive you pretend to be, nor how huge your house, plasma T.V., tits or cock are, nor how important you’ve mislead yourself to think you are, nor how educated, intelligent nor pretentiously great you want to be; within the next 48 hours you literally, literally will have to wipe shit off of yourself.
God bless the human condition.
Higher Level Species My Ass
Really? I mean come on. Its 2009. This is how we have to live? In the immortal words of the patron saint of bullshit, John Stossel: Give me a break.
There is no fucking reason for this. I mean, they can put a man on the moon and a vagina on a man (Of course they’ve never put a vagina on the moon so maybe we aren’t really living in a technical utopia yet). People are getting face transplants, tits are getting bigger, asses smaller, black people are moving into the white house and morbidly fat people are becoming Shar Peis.
This can’t be right. Why do we have to live like this. You’re telling me with a straight face and you expect me to believe that I have to shit?
Really? 3 million years of evolution and I still produce vile waste every time I eat? I have no idea who invented shitting, but he was an asshole. Someone should have naturally selected his (or most likely her) ass.
Can’t we genetically engineer the next generation to not shit? Like some supped up intestinal system that absorbs everything? This is America right? The laws of thermodynamics still apply—or did I just get dropped off in the 3rd world? E still equals MC squared right? Its not E=MC2 + shit is it?
Come on. Even if we can’t super engineer our bodies to use everything we eat, can’t we perfect some diet where our inferior gastrointestinal systems still use everything?
I have no idea where we get off calling ourselves a higher level species when daily we still have to open up our assholes, slowly push out turds, take a material crudely fashioned from trees and clean shit off ourselves.
Yeah, we are soooo much better than wild animals.
Medical Fact: A Toilet Can Never Be Clean
The color of the water in the picture is not my doing, its the chick who takes my photograph in front of roadside memorials. The cute little turd though: Pure me.
Why in the name of Buddha does anyone buy that stupid blue water coloring shit to put in their toilet? The only person you’re fooling is yourself. There is no way to make a toilet clean.
Are you new? Do you even know what people do in those things?
I have no idea what she was thinking. I know me, and I hate to burst her bubble, but I am the type of person who shits in toilets, so whatever she hoped to accomplish is probably all for naught. Its placebo water at best.
It’s like a hot chick getting her nails done and a super deep tan—guess what fatty? Your still fat—and everyone knows it. You’re not tricking anyone into thinking your hot.
Same thing with your toilet. No mater what color the water in your toilet is—it could be the color of pure sunshine—and everyone still knows you take big greasy craps in it.
Things Blogs Suck For $200 Please
Son of a retarded rapist, blogs suck my unwiped ass. I spent most of today trying to whore out my plog: submitting it to blog indexes, setting up links that notify certain services when I make a new post, sending out spam and a whole bunch of other boring shit so that I can successfully sellout what pride I thought I had.
It’s as disgusting as a four day old, unflushed turd and makes my rectum hurt just thinking about how much time has been wasted on blogs. And not just writing them. And not just my time—which is considerable more important than any nerd working on the next kick-ass blogging platform that’s not gonna get him laid. Or even paid.
I mean really—the world needs 500 blog aggregators? Or 1200 blog indexes? Or 75 blogging communities? Or 40 different blog writing software programs?
Don’t stop there. You still have dipshits creating themes and layouts for blogs, idiotard developers writing plug-ins so you retards can make your blog even gayer and ad networks, lots and lots of fucking ad networks. Everyone is going to be rich simply writing a post every day or so and having people even more stupid than they click on those links and ads.
So, long story short: Fuck you.
Money Over Bitches? That’s Crap
The biggest problem I have with the state of the internet is that it reflects change. The world isn’t the same place I grew up in. The worst part isn’t the technology or fancy new phrases or that damn hip hop and roll music, its a fundamental shift in what we value as a society. And the shift wasn’t for the for the better.
I hate to sound like someone’s grandfather, but in my day, times were simpler and superior. It wasn’t too long ago that the most important thing in life wasn’t making $5 a day from ads on a website or optimizing your html for search engines or pinging your blog or getting a top listing on digg.
No, back then when the web was still only 1.0 we didn’t care about that stuff. In the olden days when you wanted someone you didn’t text them, but beeped them on their pager, and hopefully they were near a pay phone (now I am dating myself, eww–get a room) and could quickly call you back. Oh sure we have technologically advanced quite a way since then, but our moral and cultural systems have regressed. We were more grounded then and didn’t constantly think with our wallets.
Instead, we thought with our dicks. And the world was a much better place for it.
We’ve turned from a healthy, sex obsessed culture into a greed crazed virtual assembly of people. Back in the good ole days we invented and sang about more words for doing it than had ever existed before . I mean come on ‘Unskinny Bop’, ‘Shoop’, ‘Zoom-Zoom and a Boom-Boom’ and that’s not mentioning any of the lovely ballads on the subject by 2 Live Crew. We were concerned about money, but it didn’t rule us. Our quest to obtain lots and lots of pussy did. And it worked.
Kids today. With them its all about pageviews, google rankings, link exchanges, ad impressions, SEO, trackbacks and affiliate marketing. Do guys even like to get blown anymore? Do the teenyboppers still do that? Am I showing my age?
Where have you gone Tone Loc? A nation turns its lonely eyes to you.
Que Caca, Caca
First and foremost, after 12 days of figuratively and literally adding worthless shit to the web, I added something good to it today. On the non-shitty (non-blog) portion of my site, I added the Porkjerky.com Guaranteed Pickup Line Generator for you to incorporate into your shitty slice of the web.
I hope that makes up for what happened this weekend. I didn’t address it yesterday, but for all you die-hard feces fans keeping score at home, I didn’t crap Saturday, thus no post. While I will not apologize for my digestive cycle, I do empathize with you for not being able to get your daily shit fix here.
I am not one of these people who fret over my bowel movements everyday and get worried if they don’t happen. Or make sure the color, shape, size and consistency are within the standard deviation of all my prior craps.
I mean come on, who gives a prolapsed rectum if you shit everyday? Not me. I shit when I want, where I want, what I want and only if I want. Unlike some people, I don’t keep my anus on such a short leash—it’s free to do what it wants. Its earned my trust and I treat it as an equal. No need to micromanage it.
So please don’t take it personally that I didn’t post. Allow me to allay any of your fears by saying this: If I don’t shit, it doesn’t mean I don’t love you. It just means I didn’t shit.
Good Shit
Look at that. That’s some mighty fine shitting my friends. That turd’s going up on my refrigerator. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does its something special.
I am a simple man who can appreciate the simple things in life. People always love to whine about their bad luck and always bitch about things they hate. Not me. Today, I am taking the time to point out the finer things in life and how we all have someting good plop into our lives every now and then.
Like craps that only take one wipe to clean. Thing of beauty.
Its not winning the lottery, or finding out an ex-girlfriend gained 70 pounds and is in an abusive relationship, but its still a pretty nice thing to happen. Just makes you appreciate life that much more. A shit that cleans with only one wipe is just one of the smaller things that makes you realize luck is on your side sometimes. Like something at the grocery store ringing up wrong in your favor or 2 M&M packets dropping from the vending machine or being white.
Crisis Averted, Again
You guys ever… have you ever after your done clogging the porcelain like jumped up real fast, yank up your pants, shorts, your what have you and then zipped up real fast and caught the tip of your… you know in the zipper?
Have you have you done that?
I never have, sounds like it hurts–I don’t know why anyone would want to do that. You guys some sort of sick fucks that like that kind of shit?
Self-Fulfilling Shitty Blog Post
Oh man, my birthday post is going to be awesome. I am working on it now and its sweet. Super duper mega kick ass awesome. The kind of awesome that’s illegal now because it has been shown to grow cancerous tumors the size of papayas in lab rats and because of the terrorists and because the world has started pussifying itself in the name of ‘thinking of the children’—like what they did with lawn darts.
Anyway, the post on my birthday is gonna be that kind of awesome.
This is the part of the post where you quit reading and tell me to fuck off. I don’t know if I have brought it up, but I fucking hate blogs. And what I did in the first line of this post is an excellent example of why they suck my duodenum.
Blogs are turning into the fucking TV news, always trying to cock tease you into staying tuned through the commercials or being sure you stay watching to catch the nightly newscast or trying to get you to bookmark their page and check back often. Fuck them and their bullshit tricks to improve their ratings a hundredth of a percent or grinding out the information they have for 2 more posts so they can squeeze a couple more page views into their Google stats. Manipulative, vapid shit eaters.
But in all serious, my birthday—awesomeness—bookmark this page and tune back in then.
Wide Load
As I pinched off today’s loaf, I was watching another boring Discovery Channel documentary on some animal that did something that everyone knows about. Something like the male emperor penguin incubates the egg or male salmon get all ugly when they swim up stream or crocodiles can run fast or Tyra Banks is a crazy bitch. Something that’s been in so many documentaries that its common knowledge. Watching them just aren’t worth my time any more.
I’d like to see them combine animal documentaries with another documentary they do a ton of: fat people. No more liposuction, gastric bypass, fat roll removal surgeries, though. I want one that captures them in their natural environment, how they manage day to day. Enlighten us on something we all want to know about them. Like for example, how do they shit?
I mean a super fat ass has got to be tough to crap out of. Its gotta take a ton of time to get it balanced on the seat for one. For another you have to make sure their cheeks are spread adequately to allow enough room for turd passage, otherwise they’d just be shitting on their own ass–walking around with a dook lodged in their flesh vise of an ass.
And what about wiping? Fuck almighty, that’s gotta be a good half hour right there. I have seem some fatties and can’t imagine them being able to get there with their arms. Do they sell extension tools of some sort?
Or maybe they train a monkey or a dog to do it. But I can’t imagine PETA letting that fly.
Come on Discovery channel. Kimodo dragons and polar bears are played out. Document something we genuinely want to know about and can learn something from.
