Hello once again. This is another installment of “Dirty Filthy Snuff”. I'll kick it right off with the juicy meat, “What Really Chaffs My Nuts”.

What really chaffs my nuts are those drivers that don’t use their turn signals, and well actually driving in general. I mean honestly what the fuck is the deal with people driving and not using their turn signals? I’m not trying in anyway sound like a damn prudish, stick up my ass prick; well actually I know I am coming off that way. But, we wonder why so many people die in auto wreaks each year than maybe we need to examine our methods of driving. Here’s an example:

Your driving along in your automobile, and to the right of you this humongous SUV (well it’s actually more like a fucking luggary cargo ship) with a blond Barbie soccer mom at the helm whose kids are in the back watching “Sponge Bob while eating organic manderine oranges while Barbie texts one of her tribe about the next Sunday punch social. Then she realizes that she’s in the wrong lane, and she simply barrels her way into your lane nearly causing you to flip your car and explode like all the actions sequences in all B-action films.

It’s those same fucks that can’t wait the two seconds for you to step on the gas when the light turns green. And those are the same assholes that will make you sit at a light because they want to make a turn, but don’t feel like using their own turn signal. Which really makes me wonder why the hell car companies should still make turn signals. The whole point of a turn signal is that it lets people know that you’re making a turn. The signal lights are not cute decorations. But I’ll get back to that point in a moment.

See, a turn is to rotate on an axis, or in laymen terms for the soccer mom and snobs alike, it’s the direction you go when you want to get that low fat mocha latte at starbucks. But either way it’s a change in direction, and so if you’re moving in a vehicle made of metal that weights so many some odd tons that can move at so many some odd feet per second than it would make sense that you might want to use some sort of early warning system to let people know that you’re going for to your java. See then that way you won’t end up running over young Tiffany and her Butter Cup troop. She’s an ambitious little girl whose goals include selling the most cookies, marret badges, and becoming the next mouseteer.

“Mommy, I never got to see Justin Bieber” or “Daddy what happened to my legs?” That would be the heads lines, and all because some fucking douche bag

 in a silver BMW wearing sunglasses was distracted because he was busy bragging to some secretary he corned into getting a drink with him. The same prick who would do something like this:

And don’t let me forget about (and don’t take this the wrong way) Asian drivers. You know those ones who when on a four lane highway, and they decide to use their turn signal the second right before they cross over three lanes to get to their exit.

And another thing, what’s up with elderly drivers? I mean the DMV, which was created by freed slaves to get back at the white man, can give back a license to a man who has been convicted of several DWIs; they’ll give it back to a little old arthritic dementia suffering grandma who can barely see over the steering wheel, but someone who is just trying to renew their license and the prospect of getting a colonospicy with a garden hose and a camcorder is more comforting. A little too harsh? Alright enough of bashing such people as the old who forget their meds, love playing bingo, accuse everyone of stealing from them, drink ensure, and have to be careful not to do anything even scratch an itch to hard for fear of pooping themselves. This clan we call the elderly.

Anyway, moving along, there is something else I’ve noticed, and that is drivers who can’t seem to perform well on the road are from the one and only state of New York. Yes, I said it, New Yorkers, almost all of the most deficient, irresponsible, and ADHD drivers with self entailment issued motorists seem to all relocate to the iconic melting pot of America like refugees only to fuck up the driving experience as a whole. Which then brings us to another aspect of driving? You know what it is? Do ya? Come take a guess. It’s one of the great ironies of our modern world. Come on guess.

You figure it out? It’s road rage.

 How’s it ironic? Well, one of the things of modern conveniences which were meant to make our lives less stressful is one of the biggest catalysts of chaos in society. Hence, road rage (aka asphalt ape shit). What would that stressed be due to? Let’s think about that for a second, but while we do let’s take a short intermission, and when we come back you’ll met a little girl who can touch her nose with her tongue.

Hi, welcome back. I was going to introduce you to a little girl from Ohio who could touch her nose with her tongue, but well Tiffany (the little girl) was walking across the street with her butter cup troop, asking her troop leader what prize was won for selling the most cookies, and the new outfit her mommy bought for her Malibu Barbie when an SUV  came careening around the corner and through the cross walk hitting the poor child, smashing into  her at a fairly elevated rate of speed crushing her ribs  causing a punctured lung resulting into internal bleeding as the cute little girl’s screams of terror were silenced by the sharp fragments of her ribs disrupted her. Being thrown from the impact, Tiffany was ejected several feet in the air, her legs broken, neck snapped, turning her from the adorable little girl she was into a bloody, splattered rag doll that no one would ever recognize. And as she died on the hot pavement, her troop leader cradling her head, the young girl hummed a song from Disney’s “The Little Mermaid” before succumbing to internal bleeding.  

It had turned from this:

:

Into this (just imagine that it’s a girl scout and not a little boy):

So, what have we learned? What is the lesion? I’m not sure there is, it’s obvious that there might need to be some tighter regulations on who is allowed to drive. I mean if a decaffe non fat green tea latté with two Splenda drinking WASP whose idea of being on a budget is using her gold card rather than the platinum, and believes that the best way to afford her ability to multitask, and protect her and her two and half children (two and a half?) is by driving the civilian version of an armored personnel carrier so that she can rush home to fuck the pool boy is the poster child of the American motorist then we are fucked. I mean like MS fucked, roach motel "they check in but they don't check out", former child actor, one hit wonder fucked. And all that is due to people not using their turn signals. That’s what really chaffs my nuts.  

AND now here are some more clips of bad driving. Enjoy!

FIN

Hello and welcome to yet another "Dirty Filthy Snuff", I'm Lou Ford. Let me start off by saying that while I'm working on a good "What really chaffs my nuts", but it's not ready so I'm trying something new. This is what I call the I don't give a fuck entry. Now understand that I didn't do this because I don't care, but I just thought that I'd try something that is nonsensical. So with further a due let us beginning.

\

Sure things may seem bad. I mean I got Hep C. But on the bright side of it, due to the psychological effect of the liver medication, Interferon, I could got into a psychotic rage and massacre my whole family, and then draw eyes on my penis and talk to it like it was a real person. Then I won't get convicted of murder; instead I'll just be thrown into a mental hospital where I'll be come a walking lobotomy, drooling on myself and crapping my pants. Hell, I'll be skipping over those hard mid years and be going right to the nursing home phrase where the only thing I'll have to worry about is to clean my dentures and drink my insure and spend the rest of my days accusing the nursing staff of stealing from me. That's the bright side right?

Now wouldn't it be interesting if there really were drive in like this. I mean the ladies could ask for a some spicy sausage, and well the guys we already know what they could ask. This does kinda put a whole new meaning on the idea of "eating out" doesn't it? Kinda funny right. What would be on the menu for a place like this? What? Things like tube steak? Spam? Crab cakes? Furry grapes in a pouch? Meatballs glazed in a special sauce? Peaches? How about hair pie? Think about it? Would you order from that menu? How about this? If you caught some STD you couldn't be blamed for cheating now could you? You could just explain that you ate at this new place "Betty's Buns" or "Cannoli Surprise" or the "Star fish Diner", and that's where you got it. In fact it would work out cause you could sue for personal injury. Oh, yeah check this one out, "Sweet Baby Ray's Barbecue Grill. Anyway, moving along.

Here is some photos taken by an amazing, talented photographer named Jason. Observe. Oh by the way, this is some nudity, so I'm just warning you. 

That's all the anchor I need, haha! I kid.

And now here's something new. It's non-Family Guy, American Dad, or The Cleveland Show cartoon's by the wondrous, stupendous, sexually arousing Seth MacFarland. Well, Let me rephrase: only the first one is a Family Guy Clip. Enjoy, I know I will in more ways than one!

has your pet become sluggish, lethargic, sickly, isolated, dazed, confused, or disorientated. Well, there maybe a solution to that problem, and it's a lot simpler than you think. You ready?! Are you??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Stop giving your fucking dog or cat shotguns from your blunts assholes. Don't pour beer into your cat's water bowl. May be if you stopped locking your fucking animal in the closet and smoking him out then it's possible that he would use the fucking litter box, jackass. Do you think that your dog would actually play fetch, if he wasn't too busy trying to find his barrings? I don't know, just a suggestion. 

Hello, again. Check this out. Exclusive photos of the secrete lives of politician's. Look at this one:

Who would have guessed Condoleezza Rice was such a manly woman, or that Dick Cheney had such a nice rack. And how about Ann Coulter over there with such a nice buff body, or that she is so shy, and modest. 

And look at Mitt Romney! Who knew how how uninhibited and kinky he was. You go with your bad self, Mitt!

Well, that's it, so until next time this is Lou Ford.

Hello, and welcome to another issue of your favorite thing in the world, “Dirty Filthy Snuff”. I’m Lou Ford and I’ll start this issue with the usual “What Really Chaffs My Nuts”.

What really chaffs my nuts are things like this:

Exploiting someone’s death with the purpose of making art.That is what German photographer Thomas Demand did, he recreated as an artist piece of Whitney Houston's last meal as an artical in the New York Times arts section of the April 27, 2012 weekend edition reported. Now I know that someone like Whitney Houston is an icon, and let’s face it as with all icons, they are immortalized. Take for instance James Dean, or Elvis, or Marylyn Monroe. Thought I do have to say I have never heard of an artistic representation of the toilet Elvis died on. Not like this artistic piece of Whitney Houston’s last supper. I mean that is kinda in bad taste. I also know what you’re gonna say, "but artists depicted have Jesus’ last supper many times". And I would answer yes that is true, but also first off we weren’t there to personally witness it; the whole story of Jesus and his death wasn’t necessarily written from a personal account, it is a story that is open to interpretation, and it wasn’t a story that was written, and the paintings weren't created with the explicated purpose of exploiting that man’s death for money, and gossip. Well at least not in the beginning. Let’s be honest, the most corrupt and evil organization next to the DMV is the Catholic Church. I mean electing a former Hitler Youth as the next pope, a boy scout with fucking artillery, really a stellar choice.  And the other thing is that Jesus’ last supper was important, it contained an important part of the plot, and that being that Jesus told his 12 disciples, among other things, that one of them would betray him. It wasn’t the last meal ordered from room service before he drowned in a bath tub due to complications from an addiction to crack cocaine.

I do get that death, as much as we civilized people may not want to admit, is a subject that interests and fascinates us, still there are some things that are just done out of bad taste. Take for instance the car that James Dean had died in. “Little Bastard”; after his death it became a long sought after piece of celebrity memorabilia. Again I get that celebrities are icons, and that is an example of the price of fame, but let’s be real, how would it be taken if an artist did a piece on jonBenet Ramsey’s last supper.

Could you just image, the artist is presenting it, saying “This is the spagettios laced with roofies, and the organic apple slices she ate, before suffering a semen filled death in her basement. Now moving on, the next piece I created is the basement, and the interesting thing I did was I decided to use the icing for cinnamon buns for the semen, and I think with the way that it dried …” That would be controversial and completely disrespectful, but I guess that’s art huh?  

I mean a groquestic painting done by Salvador Dali is considered art, but porn,
 well that is just a cheap excuse to exploit women, not that I’m denying that in some cases but while it may seem that way we all have no problem calling up a stripper for a bachelor/bachelorette party cheering as they dance, but then calling them whores the next morning. See, that’s another thing, we as people desire, and treasure the exotic, the dirty, and kinky as well as the sincere and romantic. If it wasn’t the case then there would no fucking porn industry. If that was the case then there would be no 40 year with too much makeup trying to act like a tween and there’d be no frat boy or out of shake cubical dwelling I.T. guy waking to it. If the need wasn’t there there wouldn’t be legalized brothels in some U.S. states would there? But that’s not what this rant is about. YES! THIS IS A FUCKING RANT!

A RANT! JUST LIKE THIS!

A RANT! THAT’S THE PURPOSE OF THIS BLOG IN CASE YOU HAVEN’T CAUGHT ON! IT's MEANT TO BE FUNNY, NOT OVERTLY OFFENSIVE, HOWEVER IF I HAVE, OR WILL OFFEND ANYONE THEN I AM SORRY.  MOVING ON!

But seriously, what is it that makes something art. Why the hell are some things ok, and other things crossing the line? Why the fuck are slasher flicks where the young teen age girl who is always a blonde, and always in a bra and panties always being butchered by the masked killer an accepted genre, and other things aren’t. Blood and guts is okay even though we all know that the Chester down the block is staying up late jerking off to the carnage, and lets’ be honest we all know it, but we still just accept it. I’m not saying that censorship is the way, but I think we need to get our boundaries straight. Which is more important, the fact that van Gogh was a magnificent painter, or the fact that he was nuttier than a shit house rat and sliced off his ear to give to a woman he was in love with? I mean would Albert Einstein be famous if not for the damn Atomic Bomb? Honestly, we got plenty of death row inmates who have last meals, why don’t we have artistic interpretation of that? Why is it okay for us to be obsessed with serial killers, feel the need to  watch shows like Hoarders or Locked Up, make jokes about rape, the Holocaust, homosexuality, sexy, AIDS, but one thing is said about September 11^th, and you better pump the brakes cause that ain’t funny. Well, that is unless it’s our enemy. Such as this:

       

But before we go further here's a quick comerial break if you will:

This moment of good parenting is brought to you by Herpies simplex A. Because just like children, it's the gift that just keeps on giving, whether you want it or not.

So I guess the real point is what exactly is art, what exactly is too offensive, or inapropreiate to be made into a exhibition to be presented to other's.

Are crime scene photos of grizzly acts really art? 

They got books on it, all about it, crime scene photos. I mean who wants to see what that creepy high school janitor did to the body of his dead mother after he strangled her with the strings of her apron while she was watching reruns of the Donna Reed show. But why is that okay. How about this picture:

Is that picture art, humorous, or distastefully disgusting? I mean there’s a whole story here. These women could the former descendants of Three Mile Island nuclear power plant, the residents who live up by the Indian Point power plant in NY. One day the ladies were working in the cafeteria of the power plants, there’s a melt down and before you know it their clitoris have mutitated into gigantic penis that shame even the largest horse cock. Maybe the mutated clitoris have a mind of their own, and they sing songs like “Baby Got Back” or “I’ve Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts”, or “I Am Woman”. Maybe these are the transgender/transsexual patients in Brazil or Thailand that are trying out their new equipment. Who knows, and that’s part of the beauty in some cases. See, it is true that a picture speaks a thousand worlds, the only problem is dose everybody need to hear those words? Think about it like this, the fucking Nazi proganda poster were in many instances amazingly effective pieces, but do we need a coffee table book about them? How about this, the serial murder John Wayne Gacy

 had done many sketches, paintings, and drawings while he was awaiting execution, after his death his paintings, and other art works were sold at auction.

 The first man to do this was an autograph dealer Steve Koschal. Apparently Steve had commissioned many of those “art pieces” from Gacy himself. The Paintings went for anywhere from $195 to $9500.
 One painting in particular depicted Disney style dwarfs playing baseball against the Chicago Cubs. Steve had gotten many hall of famers to sign the painting under the pretense that they had no idea who the artist was. There are exhibitions that apparently are still going on. While 25 paintings may have burned in 94 by 300 people including the families of Gacy’s victims in Naperville, Illinois. Still, some could say that it is extremely offensive to idolize the art from a murder. Here is a perfect example of that, in 2011 the Art Factory Gallery in Los Vegas had auctioned off one of Gacy’s paintings for 4,500 as well as other paintings, sketches, and audio recordings of Gacy’s to raise funds for several charities. In response to that the National Center for Victims of Crime asked that the gallery not include them in the sales.

So, I’ll ask you again, is that art? Is it okay to praise a sexual murderer for his artist abilities, as well as trying to make a profit? How about being so ballsy as to fucking sell a serial murders art work to raise money for the National Center for Victims of Crime? John Wayne Gacy, the man who enjoyed dressing up as a damn clown and then raping and murdering teen age boys, and yet despite the outrage,
 we still have no problem forgiving a little bit due to his artist ability, but we all have some form of fucking problem with homosexuality, or porn, or vulgar language. I really don’t know what else to say. I know that art takes many forms, from painting to sculptures, to live events, but still I think we got to figure out our boundaries, and fucking decide is it really artwork if it is a recreation of a trouble person’s last meal, or is it really right to decide to have an exhibition of a murders art work for the public to see. If I decide to start slaughtering dogs, to paint beautiful images with their blood; once it gets out that I knocked off Fido for the sake of the art work, would I be fucking forgiven? You tell me?  Oh yeah, by the way, I am not immune to this either.

Until Next Time

Lou Ford

FIN    

Hello and welcome to another, yet another issue of "Dirty Filthy Snuff". I was away, out of town and I've had some catching up to do. While I was in the process of this I came across something that I thought was magnificent, stupendous, and amazing. 

So this is what really chaffs my nut. What really chaffs my nuts are imaginary friends.

Do you remember what it was like to imaginary friend? That one being that accepted you for all that you were, enjoyed everything you did, and protected you. It was the most important thing in your life, and no one else could see it? Weird huh? Why? Because your a child, and a hallmark of almost any childhood is the advent of imagination. Yes that thing that helps your mind grow, reassuring your parents that your developing normally. That is until this happens ...  

I mean that's the danger of having an imaginary friend, the threat that the delusion will become reality. One day your playing with Bob the Construction Builder, and the next day your trying to give your brother a pair sand box shoe's due to the fact that he stole your plastic army men. Maybe that didn't make any sense, so at first your just playing with your new stuffed Bear named Pooh, and the next day your mauling your mother's arm cause "Pooh" is teaching you how to be a bear. I guess that's why they give kids Ritalin, huh? I mean that's why I was given it. I think, or was it cause of my scout master? Who was it that taught us about stranger danger? And seriously what the hell makes the phrase "Stranger Danger" so fucking fear inspiring that it could actually make a child not accept candy from a stranger. And for that matter who really came up with the phrase "Just Say No To Drugs"? I mean I know that the Reagan's where trying to help the child of America, but seriously just look at Nancy.    

Now that you have, really have you,. Just look at that face, and tell me is that really the face to tell you not to do drugs? Honestly Doesn't she kinda resembles a fruit bat with hair? With that face I would imagine that she'd actually cause a child to try drugs. I mean she's a humanoid bat woman, I'd expect that as a child her face resulted in me having psychological problems. But How the hell did I get off the topic, on right I got ADHD. Or was that after I got my head stuck in the the railing? No, I think that wasn't it, I mean I don't think so, I mean all I remember is being hyper, my mom hitting me and then everything getting fuzzy, and then I had to go live with a foster family for a while. But why am I talking about that, seriously. Imaginary friends kick ass.! Why? 

Do you really have to ask that question? They do cause you came up with them. They won't make fun of you, they'll do whatever you want, they'll stay as young as you want, and they won't ever leave you. Why cause you thought the fucker up, and if by some chance that friend does leave, you can come up with another one. Which by the way why the hell is it cutie for a child to have an imaginary friend, but if an adult does, then they're crazy or creepy. I mean it's the best thing in the world, just ask the lonely guy who has become a masturbating master, or the wife in a failed marriage. Her husband only turns back into himself after her orgasm. Imaginary friends are the best, I mean where would economics be with out  John Nash and his imaginary friends. He won the fucking Nobel Peace Prize, and he had several imaginary friends. How bad can imaginary friends be? Their not as bad as those Teletubbies. 

Yeah, you heard me right, the fucking Teletubbies! Man's imagination has come up with some pretty horrible things, but nothing quiet as evil as the Teletubbies. What you don't believe me. Take one good look at Tinky winky and tell that you don't see a demon overlord who doesn't want to enslave the human race. Yeah, we laugh now at the toddler targeted TV show, but just wait until one day when we all wake up in some red or yellow jump suite with a but flap and an antenna surrounded by a blue sky, rolling green hills, overtly talkative flowers, a sun that has the face of an infant, an happy infant, and bared wire and watch towers where the minions of the Teletubbies watch over us as a loud speaker plays loud gibberish speeches made by Tinky Winky with the sound of "Eh-ho", and "Uh-oh" being repeated so many times that you honestly come to believe that you are actually stand on the precipice of the abyss that leads into hell, and that jumping into that place would be a welcomed relieve to oppression. Damn you BBC and PBS!  

But I'm getting off topic.

But seriously, where would we be without our imagination? Where? There'd be no Alcoholic suicidal Russian novelist, no Looney Tunes, no fucking South Park, and God forbid no mother-fucking Family Guy. Shit, think about it, no damn theater, films, TV, karaoke; we just be a bunch of modernized, Technologically advanced Puritans or Mormons. We'd be like the Amish or the audience of the 700 Club. I mean if there wasn't imagination then there'd be no spoof storyline based, hardly well acted, or believable, but nevertheless hardcore erotic porn. I mean no babysitter who uses her body to pay the pizza delivery boy. No magic jinns who happen to grant sexual wishes. No busty female cops who's uniforms just happen to be daisy dukes, a belly shirt, stocks, black stiletto heels, and a case of bisexual lust so incarnate that her tools for interrogation included a chest of dildos and live sex shows. No more of this:

or this:

Not without imagination? Come on just admit it, we all have or had imaginary friends. They're great, but for anybody out there who doesn't believe me than look at this:

( Photo by Jason Tamvakis)  

Look at the picture above. She's pretty, a model and look a she has a stuffed puppy puppet as a best friend. Looking at that it doesn't seem to bad, does it? And for all you guys out there, just be honest she's hot so it doesn't matter if she has a stuff animal as a best friend, or if she fucking nuts, cause ya just wanna get laid. Imaginary best friends are the best things in the world. "Ted" comes out this summer; staring Seth Macfarelane. Till next time. 

Lou Ford.

FIN

I am sorry that I haven't post anything recently, and that's because I've been swamped with school, and I've been sick. So I will but this out for you. Enjoy the violent cutiness of "The Happy Tree Friends".

See, wasn't that fun.

Until next time,

Lou Ford

FIN

Hello, and welcome to another, another, and yet another issue of "Dirty Filthy Snuff". I will be going away for a week so I may not be able to post during that time, so I am leaving you with this: 

WARNING: This clip contains explicit language and sexual situations. It may not be appropriate for some audiences, especially if you don't have a sense of humor.

Now I could get into how Andy's facial expression could be his O-face, laying out in graphic detail how he takes's the woman in the video from behind and with a forceful thrust enters-but I do enough of that already so I'll just leave it at this: Take That Wholesome America!

And now hers's a message from Peter Griffith from Family Guy.

 

Why that's important? I haven't the slightest clue, but really what does Canada have that we don't? Niagra falls and fucking Moose? Indian Casinos and Quebec? Let's heard it: Free Quebec! Yaaaahhh! But seriously what do they offer besides escape from military service? Anybody got anything? Is there anything good about Canada? I can't think of anything so this was a huge fucking waste of time. This was a collosal misfire, anyway, until next time this is Lou Ford signing off!

FIN 

Hello, it's Lou Ford again and welcome to another edition of "Dirty Filthy Snuff". Today "What Really Chaffs My Nuts" is job interviews. So, what really chaffs my nuts are job interviews. Yes, that introduction to a new employment, and a new employer. It is that annoying, "put on a happy face" sometimes humiliating getting to know you where you'll sometimes met employers who's personalities make Ted Bundy's look like a kitty. These maybe the people who will cut corners, lay employees off and resort to slave labor just to maintain they're security. An one come to mind? How about Kathy Lee Giffert, Martha Stewart who by the way is still somehow americas' go to girl when it comes to home decor or creative ideas for the holidays. I think the  name of the companies softball team is "The Overseers". 

Anyway, these are the jobs where putting aside the internal politics, you run into the customer like the striaght man who cops an attitude because he has been sent out to buy tampons. To them I gotta say put a fucking leesh on it and stop making the employees who your buying the products from suffer for your humiliation. We all basically get the idea that if your buying feminine hygene products it's probably for your wife or girlfriend, and anyway if your such a man you gotta choice; don't buy them! Be happy your not buying lice shampoo to get rid of the crabs you got from that bar slut you fucked a few days ago. If your in line with that and antifucngal cream to boot, then by all means be pissed, take it out on me a little. Shit, tip me a little and I'll slap my self in the face, but other than that shut the fuck up cause just like at your job, I ain't got the time for your bullshit. How about this scene?

Here's an example of another embarassing situation, and don't anybody out there tell me that at some point you(if a dude) or someone you know hasn't gone looking for a vacum cleaner with the destinct purpose of sexual senual pleasure. But even if not just image this, some lonely guy walks in looking for a vaccum cleaner. The guy may seem legit that is until he takes one of the hoses and casually puts it up against his crotch. What do you do when you know that this guy wants a little vrum follow by a suction, an O face and ending with a massive hickie on the base of his penis. Unless this is the "Romantic Depo", if you work at a hardware store, you don't really want to do approach this douche, but your boss insists that you go and help the customer, and above may just happen. And where does this all stem from? Fucking job interviews, that's where. 

It call comes from questions like the one asked below.  

Seriously, what the fuck type of question is that? Where do I see myself in five years? Well could it quiet possible be getting screwed by you in a dead end job where my marriage turns to shit that's to the strees and my only release is paying transent hookers to tye me to an oak tree in a field and stangle me while I touch myself(sorry too much. I do get carried away). or how about this, I'll let the sketch comedy group "The White Kids You Know" school us in the right way to conduct yourself on a job interview. Take it away boys: 

And so what have we learned? Well, that lying on a job application is alright regardless of the consequences. That if you get cought about the lies on your job application, then it's okay to further spin the web of, and then if you get caught bribe the employer so he will give you the job. But FYI, twenty bucks ain't shit. Finally,  if your interviewer calls you on your lies, by oh lets say, calls in an employee you said you knew from a previous job, then hey you can always kill the guy claiming he's a zombie who wants to munch on some brains.. Why not, and while your at it be on a shit load of Acid while your at it just to make it fun. So chew on that for a while, and until next time, this is Lou Ford signing off.

FIN