Hello, hello, and welcome to another horrible issue of "Dirty Filthy Snuff". This is going to be a fairly short one due to the fact that I'm working on what will hopefully be a great "What Really Chaffs My Nutts". It should be great if only I could remember where I put my meds. I need it so that I won't start hallucinations, delusions of grandeur, and the poetic conflict between good and evil. So while I sort out the tension between nice me and mean me enjoy these cartoons. 

Now I know what you might be saying, these cartoons are shit, and I know it. That maybe, and my nice self knows that. Oh by the way, I haven't found my anti psychotic medicine yet. My nice me thinks that I should take it off, but just think about this; in this great nation of ours Reality TV has become a major fixture of entertainment. Now there's nothing wrong with that in my humble option if the fucking program is of quality, but shows like the fucking "Bachelor, Bachelorette, and The Bachelor Pad", do they really represent the idea of quality programing? I mean really why the fuck do you want to watch group of greedy, fame starving people who are more lonely than Tom Hanks in "Castaway" play an extended vision of speed dating where they actually date someone only twice before they get married. You know before such shows as "The Bachelor Pad" I honestly thought that we as a race of people wouldn't be able to accurately put a price on self respect, but I was wrong. Really fucking wrong.

Obviously the price for self respect only costs your picture not being dropped into a ballad box on the night of a rose ceremony. Or how about making an ostrich egg your best friend to somehow win the hearts of America. I mean when that shit comes on, I actually want to club to dead a baby seal with a damn soap in a sock. Now I know what your going to say, and that is it's just TV, regardless in a nation where an elected official somehow comes to the conclusion the a woman's reproductive system has enough presence of mind to prevent a pregnancy from a rape(an utterly asinine statement)the very prospect that people actually let it's message hold weight truly makes the prospect of cock fights sound appealing. Maybe it would just be better to broadcast a a person who suffers from Parkinson's disease tattoo patrons at a tattoo parlor. In fact just make it Michael J. Fox just so we can have that celebrity backing. We could call it "Scribbled Skin".

And then we got shows like "Big Brother", or as I like to call it "watching a bunch of simpletons sitting around with their dicks in their hands, picking their asses waiting to grow on Americans like a antibiotic resistant bacteria that just inflects your flesh festering deeper and deeper into your body until it gets into your blood stream". The Real House Wives; the only thing I wonder is which one is going to die of a prescription drug overdose first? Or how about which one will end dying from plastic surgery while under the knife. I honestly beg for freedom to be taken away from me after an hour of crap like that cause the viciousness of my thoughts when I've seen just an hour makes me want to be forced into a labour camp for reeducation. My mean me thinks that this is a good idea.

You know what's even better about this whole gig is that is with shows like the Bachelor on the air(and with such a following)it makes the one subjects that Americans all struggle with seem easy. That subject is math. Yeah, with ABC making what is essentially a Disney soft core porn.(that consists of Ed getting drunk and a night vision camera filming him under the covers as he screams out Xena Warrior Princess war cries and guttural groans while some bimbo tries to mess with his junk) and that makes arithmetic simple. The one thing that those evil immigrants are good at reality TV somehow makes it comprehensible for us westerns. Hell, I can work at a nuclear reactor because after a show like that feeds me digestible doses of the mean of an incomprehensible emotion such as love, preventing three mile island should be a cake walk.

I've thought about it and I have an idea for my own show. It's just like "The Bachelor Pad" only the single meat heads are locked down on the campus with all the drug and alcohol they can consume in 30 days, and we just watch the results. Leave out some some sharp objects, and buses in some hookers and we got a deliciously shameful disaster on our hands. I'm betting that in some seasons none of them will make it out alive. The ones that don't slip in the shower and break their neck, or drought in their own vomit will end up being stabbed to death. There will be no real money, just the chance to live out all their greedy, lustful fantasies and hope to survive. Or we could just go in for the kill and have a show by the name of "Who wants to Marry O.J." O.J. Simpson will of course be the bachelor. Let's see the ratings on that. One of the challenges can trying on different gloves to find which ones fit, and will call that activity "If The Glove Fits". With that; here is another crude short cartoon:

And here's another:

 See now this is wrong, right? Or is it. Rape is by no means funny, but judging by the culture of our society prison rape is in someway hilarious. There is something about being "Some body's Bitch" regardless of how brutal it is; it's funny? How many films and TV shows have used it to get a laugh. If that doesn't say something about us, then I don't know what does. Let me Repeat myself again about my option on the subject of rape: NO ONE SHOULD EVER BE THE VICTIM OF SUCH A CRIME. IT IS ONE OF THE WORST, MOST DESPICABLE, DAMAGING, HORRIFIC AND TRAUMATIZING ACTS OF VIOLENCE THAT ONE CAN SUFFER. HOWEVER, WITH ALL THE ASS BACKWARDS BULLSHIT ABOUT CENSORSHIP, AND THEN THE PRESENTATION OF SHIT LIKE "DIARY OF A VIRGIN", THE BACHELOR" SERIES, AND SUCH THINGS AS THE INCIDENT THAT OCCURRED AT PENN STATE WHO IS TO SAY WHAT'S REALLY CRUDE, VULGAR, AND TABOO?  
So, I'll leave you with one other idea I have for a reality TV Show. I don't have a title for it yet, but I think that it should be a full hour of watching the terminally ill die from the perspective of a time-lapse. What do you think? Well, I'll work on it and get back to you.

So, in closing, while I hadn't intended on going on a rant, I just did. I guess I just couldn't help myself. But, I would like to remind you that this is a blog that is meant to be humorous. I can and am just as guilty of many of the things and people that I criticize. I don't mean to offend, at least not entirely. So until next time, 



Lou Ford

P.S. 

I found my meds, but while my nice me wants wish you a great day: 

My mean me would like to say:

FIN

Hello, and welcome back to another installment of “Dirty Filthy Snuff”. In this issue I am going to start this off in the usual fashion, “What Really Chaffs My Nuts”. What Really Chaffs My Nuts is Joe Paterno, or as I titled it “The Father who knew best down fall”.

What really chaffs my nuts is/was Joe Paterno. Yes the legendary football coach, and supposed Titan Joe. That “great man” (I use that term loosely) was a narcissistic, self indulgent asshole who thought that King Kong didn’t have shit on him (yes a reference to “Training Day”). The head coach who had done much to help all his athletes graduate college with a C average, and produce the best college football around had a dark secret. And what was that horrific secret? It was this guy:

That’s right we all know about the Sandusky sex scandal. That was, in case you weren’t aware, when the Pennsylvania State University Assistant football coach had been allowed with the help of none other than the late great Joe Paterno to sexually abuse children (young boys to be specific) who were associated with the children’s charity he started called “The Second Mile” for 14 years. During that time many facility members were very much aware of the “extra curricular” activities of Sandusky, and yet due to the need to protect the flawless school reputation, and more importantly the football program, the higher ups like Joe ran interference to cover up those crimes. After the allegations came out what was even more horrendous and pathetic was that the students of that great institution decided that despite so many accusations the best thing to do next was riot. And then who can forget challenging , oh so difficult decision of whether or not to keep up the bronzed statue of Paterno at beaver stadium.           

/Now what really chaffs my fucking nuts about this is not so much Sandusky anymore cause at least that mincing, boy hungry pedophile has been dealt with in some way, but what got me was the deliberate enabling of a serial rapist for the purpose of looking good. But before I go any further (and let me remind you that this is a rant, yes a fucking rant) I just got to ask this; is there a manual on how to come on to a child? I am being literal here, and before you condemn me let me finish here. I ask this because if you remember one of the most infamous accounts of Sandusky’s abuse was his raping of a boy in the Athletic locker shower of Penn State which was witnessed by a fellow coach by the name of McQuerry, ,or as some may know him the tattling ginger, and when Sandusky was asked about it later he said that it was just “horse play”. That’s strange because I had no idea that horse play included anally penetrating a crying shivering youngster in a locker room shower. Saying that, I would like to go further and ask if violently pop the butt cherry of a prepubescent boy is, or rather is the excuse of horse play make it ok? Another thing is where in the job description of a “big brother” role that one of the ways to mentor children is to violate them in the worst way imaginable? I mean did Denizal Washington who was a spokesman for the “Boys and Girls Club” decide to have a sex sandwich with two of the youths as some perverted way of giving them a lesion on life? Fucking Really?

And why the fuck did it take that fucking tattling ginger (graduate assistant football coach)so long to snitch, cause this would have been the one time where it would be perfectly acceptable? Well, wait we know why it was cause of the two asshole, pricks by the name of Tim Curely, the athletic director, and Gary Schultz, the senior vice president for finance and business and oversaw the Penn State police department. But more importantly the subject of this rant. And before I forget, this is a rant which is meant to be humorous.

And let’s not forget about this brat. The geriatric, self absorbed, self proclaimed football god who as one witness had said something to effect of, going up against the almighty Joe was like going up against the president. I mean it’s pretty sad that a guy who had one leg in an adult diaper and the other in the grave, had that much control all because he knew how to teach kids how to catch an oval shaped ball. Granted that it did bring in millions for the school, but letting a serial, boy hungry rapist get away with what he did done, well that is unforgivable. The fact that a man who had emphasized the importance of integrity, and respect was willing to not only let so many get hurt, but also risk his own integrity as well boggles the fucking mind. It case the same kinda mind fuck as trying to figure out why the hell we have an appendix. I mean we don’t really need it, and yet it’s there like an unsafe work environment, ya know a box factory where everybody there can only count to six on both hands if you count their thumps. I wonder if the appendix is like god’s little sick, macabre humorous self destruct button. He’s has enough of one of us, and boom the organ bursts and we get septic, shit our brains out and die. Why the hell do we need the damn thing? No, I can do better. That boggles the mind just like the question of whether we really need all the Baldwin brothers.

I mean besides Alec, all the others don’t do anything except hang around and making terrible movies. Does their existence really needed or necessary. If they weren’t around would we miss them? Anyway moving on.

Ya know when I look at the situation it reminds me of the show “Father Knows Best” on crack It also reminds me of the show “Lost In Space”, with the role of Dr. Zachary Smith having been played by Sandusky.
 By the way what type of irresponsible parent would send their young son out into the wilderness of an uncharted planet with a creepy mincing boy hungry villain and a robot by the name of the B-9 who would server a better, and more useful purpose as an alarm clock? Cause that’s what  Professor Robinson, the father of the Robinson family (yes the show was based on the “Swiss Family Robinson”) did every time it was the start of a new day. And on top of that he’d then send out his young beautiful teenage daughter out with their other tag a long, Space Corp. Major Donald West. The hot shot jet fighter. Hearing this, you tell me that this isn’t the perfect story line for a soft core porn, or a Spanish soap? But seriously if you crash land on a strange alien planet, wouldn’t make sense that instead of doing the typical, stupid thing and splitting everyone up to explore, maybe you should all stick together. And maybe you shouldn’t send you young boy off with the man who stowed away on your ship, and then reprogrammed your helper robot to kill all of you? I mean sending you daughter off with the pilot see a set up for her to become part of light year club. That’s several steps above the mile high club cause, your in outter space, your weightless, and semen floats around like the snowflakes in a snow globe. Yet, I have to ask this question again, why the hell would you send you prepubescent son child off with a creepy, Tony Robins, strippers with c-sections, Roman Polanski playing house creepy kinda guy? Like hearing you parents having sex through your bed room wall creepy. I mean the boy starved man was supposed to be a medical doctor, and a scientist, and an assassin.

The first part, the doctor, is never good cause that means he knows all the right places to put it. And by it I mean  his penis. And they’re in outer space. That’s never good cause in outer space no one can hear you cream, or shiver from the trauma of being molested then become an alcoholic who drinks to forget the pain only to have the intoxication resurface the repressed memories resulting in depression, and then homicide ending with a suicide by cop. But, hey what did the 1950’s know about sexual abuse when they had  “Leave It To Beaver”.  

Honestly though, let me get back to the subject at hand. See, it’s a good thing that the statue of Joe Paterno has been taken down. Just about everything else everyone didn’t do equated to more than What Joe did, and the last thing we need is a bronzed figure to remind us of that.   

 Joe might as well have popped those boys butt cherries himself. And here’s what I don’t understand, Joe covered for a serial rapist for like 14 years, and yet he was supposed to be an honorable man. And this is a shinning example of one of the many things that higher education has to offer. The license to rape, and all because you got a special talent or position. At Penn State football was so loved that children were deemed worthless. Sports were the ultimate religion, and the staff were the gods. Joe was fucking Zeus, and hey, if Zeus says it’s okay for someone named Jerry Sandusky to butt fuck young boys then he must know best. Right?

If the kids had been lucky, Sandusky would have still been attracted to them as they got older and they might have gotten a scholarship. Wouldn’t that have been great? I mean that could have been offered as a package deal. Maybe Penn State should have opened a youth camp to curb Sandusky’s hunger,
but also to possibly have found a future football squad for Penn State. We all know the types that would have been selected; the youngest, disadvantaged, easily influenced boys who have been perfect molds, for Sandusky at least. And if not as athletes also, then maybe a party favor to pass around the Penn State staff. I mean in a sense that’s what Joe Patnero did. I mean he might as well have gift wrapped those boys, or maybe just have given Sandusky an ice cream truck and a stock pile of Tylenol PM. 

But there’s something else that’s got me as well. You know what that is?

Well, and this is fantastic, the judge who was overseeing the proceedings decided in his infant wisdom that Sandusky could have supervised visits with his grand children. That’s like giving Michael Vick a job at an Animal Shelter. It would seem that a man who had 51 counts of child molestation wouldn’t necessarily get permission to see kids, whose ever they were, grand children or otherwise. I gotta say the whole ordeal from the first incident of “stranger danger” to Joe’s self serving press conference, the whole thing was handled with the efficiency of a back alley abortion. That’s our legal system for ya!

Thank god there was a conviction, at least the victims will get some sort of justice out of it. Still that’s not gonna change anything. Just give it some time, and regardless of the penalties leveled on the College by the NCAA, once football season starts all the hicks in the area, and the fans in general will be right back to loving Penn State. Despite it’s child raping staff, everything will be fine. All will be forgiven.

Ain’t this nation of ours great? Victims get abused by an institution, and they’ll suffer for the rest of their lives, and the institution that’s partly responsible will have it’s respect back by the next kick off. But maybe I should let somebody else finish, so I’ll just let comedian Jim Norton take over. And away we go!

Funny shit right? Well before I conclude I would like to remind everyone that while all seemed well. Like this:

Things were really like this:

Which lead to everyone realizing this:

And that included the legendary Joe Paterno. So until next time

Lou Ford

FIN