Al Gore Reverses Stance on Global Warming, Warns of “Cold, Serious Fucking Cold.”

January 12, 2014


In the years since he’s held office, former vice president Al Gore has made quite a name for himself doing two things, espousing the dangers of climate change and shaming millions into recycling yogurt cups. Recently though, his credibility has come under fire as temperatures around the country have plummeted far below the pointy-nip range. Even his own supporters have been taken aback by such frigid conditions. In fact, many of his self-professed Gore Whores are now crying bullshit and disparaging Al’s doomsday theories on global warming.

According to Gore’s award-winning documentary, An Inconvenient Truth, rising atmospheric temperatures are chiefly caused by the abundance of fossil fuels burned by human beings. The film foresees flooding, disease, glacial retreat and shitty beach movies as a result of the warmer climate. But instead of melting in our shoes of late, billions of Americans have been buried under arctic conditions and forced to snap icicles off of our gennies.

Retired field hand, Ernest Keep spoke candidly about his record of supporting Al Gore’s cause “You know, I bought that there Incontinent Truth video at a yard sale coz I really like the earth and it was only a buck. Fell asleep for a bit in the middle but the rest was really good. It made me care more, I think. But yeah, I totally believed in that big old Tennessee boy.  He seemed honest and it’s not like just anyone could run that giant slideshow. Can’t trust him anymore, though. He made it sound like we’d be running around on burnt toast by now and here I am like Jack fuckin’ Frost trying to find my goddamned carport on the ice planet Hoth. I mean, what the shit? I was saving my beer cans for that guy and everything.”

The former vice president rejects the notion that he was wrong, misleading or deceitful in any way. In fact, he insists that recent sub-zero temperatures actually support his theory of earth as a flaming hemorrhoid. Gore insists “Science is full of variables, it’s not perfect. Everything I’ve predicted is coming true, wacky weather and all . The only difference is the temperature itself. So, I was off by a few degrees. Big deal. Go make a snow angel. You still shouldn’t throw your Slurpee cups out the car window. Everybody’s jumping on me like I lied to them or something. I didn’t lie. I’m a good man. I played football, you know.”

Despite such justifications, nature’s cabana boy continues to draw criticism in the wake of record shattering low temperatures. Former environmental fund-raiser,  Alberto Denaro pulls no punches when it comes to these recent climatic shifts “I raised a millions of dollars for Al to stop it the global warming. It all look it like horsey shit now, and all the hottie womans are burritoed up in the wool and down. Alberto no see nothing now. Maybe  real global warmings mean skimpy bikinis because parka and mittens shit not so sexy. Fuck him this Al Gore.”

When we caught up with Mr. Environmental Savior himself, he was clearing his driveway with a custom built plutonium-fueled atomic snow dematerializer. Gore concedes the weather hasn’t been quite as he anticipated, “So yeah, ok. It’s cold, seriously fucking cold. I get that. I didn’t say it would never be cold again, just said that the planet would eventually implode like a marshmallow in the microwave. What am I, the cracker Al Roker? Maybe, it’s just not time yet. Be happy. What do you want me to do, update my PowerPoint every time it freakin’ snows?” In defense of his character, Gore adds “I don’t know why you all don’t just trust me on this. I’m honest as they get. Why else would you have almost voted me President, second only to George Weasel Bush?”

Best (or worst) Christmas Presents Received (or returned) this Year

December 26, 2013

10. Package of Infini-Dong Reusable Condoms with Deluxe Drying Tree

9. Pet Hamster from the Richard Gere Habitat for Rodent Preservation and Intestinal Exploration

8. My First Buzz: Little-Bee Starter Pot Farm

7. Dr. Breasticles’ Home Implant Kit- Now with extra blades!

6. Famous Anus Recliner Chair: Reshape your ass to emulate the posterior of your favorite celebs with genuine molded ass-a-like seats!

5. Santa’s Sack Warmer: The rechargeable underwear heater for men

4. Gift Certificate for the Kardashian Love Line Advice Network

3. Dashboard Deep Fryer

2. Senior’s Stripper Pole with shock absorbent chair lift and safety rails

1. Booger Pouch

New Year’s Resolutions… and other fairy tales

January 2, 2011

I promise to cut down on glue-sniffing in the new year.

Happy New Year, suckers! It’s New Year’s Day, the official bullshitter’s holiday. On no other day of the year do more people shovel shit than on the first day of the year (or the last day of the year, if they planned ahead.) Who is shitting who, you ask? Well, anybody that reserves a special day to express an intention to change is clearly rolling turds uphill.
The very concept of a personal resolution kicking off on a specific day at a specific time is ludicrous. Anybody serious about doing something is just gonna do it. The only time for change is Now. I can’t take it seriously when somebody says “After the New Year, I’m gonna tear down my crystal meth lab, quit using and open an orphanage.” Empty promises are useless even when made to ourselves. So, if your treadmill and weight bench spent more time as a clothes hanger for your dirty drawers over the last twelve months, chances are the coming year won’t be much different. Just be real about it and don’t bother telling yourself and everybody else that you’re gonna be the next Jack LaLanne when in fact, you consider tying your shoes to be exercise. Chances are, you never even tried that Juicer that you got for Christmas last year.
The same applies to the other pseudo-goals we hear people talk about at the end of the year. Quitting smoking doesn’t sound feasible in the new year when the person decides to triple-up on cigarettes in the current year to make up for lost cancer cells in the future. Going on a diet in 2011 sounds great but if you’re ending 2010 by breaking into a Carvel and devouring their inventory, you’re heading for failure. Tomorrow never comes when it limits indulgence.
As it is, the concept of a New Year is merely a marker in our lives. There is no physical change that affects us directly. New Year’s resolutions are just concocted promises to make ourselves feel empowered. Life is an evolutionary process. Live it, change it, do it. If your dream is to become a lens cleaner on the set of  XXX films, then go for it. Waiting for a year-end pseudo-holiday to declare it so, only wastes time and energy while annoying the people who have to listen to you. So unless your resolution is to shut up about your resolutions, do us all a favor and just do it.

Rudolf and the Racist Reindeer: A Christmas Story

December 23, 2010

How much rejection can one deer take?

Damn those Christmas Carolers!  Have they no clue what they are even singing about? They cluelessly croon along to Rudolf, The Red-Nosed Reindeer without a shred of remorse. Either they are completely aloof or they are part of the grand conspiracy to marginalize the less desirable members of our society. One of our nation’s most popular holiday ditties clearly reeks of bias and prejudice. Rudy’s story is a perfect metaphor for the social imbalance existing in America today.

Let us examine the poor unfortunate soul known as Rudolf. We have a perfectly normal reindeer that happens to be freakish in appearance thanks to his halogen honker. For this reason alone, the poor animal was ridiculed and persecuted by the dominant male heterosexual, Type-A personality stags. Dasher and Dancer used to beat up Rudolf in the locker room and pull his underwear up over his head. Prancer used to poke his antler tip up the rectal regions of Rudolf as he ate his hay. All this because he was different. Yet, the aspect that differentiated him is totally irrelevant. We see the same type of rejection every day in our society. Just replace the neon nose with a dark skin tone, a curious accent or a bizarre rambling way of ranting about absolutely nothing. We all have friends, neighbors and family members excluded from reindeer games simply because they don’t fit the bill as society deems proper. Non-conformists both natural and decided are all seen as outcasts by the Donders and Blitzens who happen to graze on the acceptable side of the tracks.

The disgrace of all this truly comes when Santa Claus, the epitome of all white men ultimately needs this rejected little reindeer to help his racist ass out. The crusty old man realizes that he wants Rudolf, not in spite of his oddity but because of it. Somebody that he once saw as disposable was suddenly seen as key player in the Kringle hood. Yet, who could forget that Santa stood idly by when Vixen dipped the poor kid’s hoof in bear shit as he slept. Santa even chuckled when Comet planted the rat traps in Rudolf’s food trough. Naturally, Rudolf takes the opportunity to be accepted by his persecutors just as his human counterparts generally do. Much to his credit, he does a bang-up job for the jolly ‘ole jerk. Next thing you know, all of those two-faced, horn-headed bastards wanna be tight with Rude-Boy. It goes to show that the non-conformists and minorities of our society are expected to overachieve and outgun the masses just to get a molecule of respect from the bean-counting corporate mammals. Rudolf The Red-Nosed Reindeer celebrates, supports and revels in this gross inequality and I am sick and tired of the ignorance and innocence surrounding that fact.

Now, pick a fucking key or get off my porch you ignorant, Glee-watching, caroling assholes!

Travelogue 2018

September 11, 2010

Ant's Rants Airlines

7:55 PM
I sit back and await takeoff. The seat is cramped but it is undeniably mine. My ticket says so. I know this, without question. Unlike the woman next to me, I required no assistance in finding my assigned place. I kick my bag beneath the seat, clutch my book and try to relax. The masses file in, many of them brushing heavily against me with their carry-on luggage and steamer trunks. My head is clipped by a large cumbersome object which I can’t identify.

8:01 PM
The man several rows ahead appears confused. He has blocked the aisle, stopping the flow of traffic. Ever so slowly he turns clockwise in place to view every angle of the passenger area. The rotation reverses as he scans the plane from the other direction. Time has stopped. He is looking for something. But what? The number on his ticket should correlate to the numbered tags posted above each row. He does not understand.

8:13 PM
Breathing anxiously, I gag slightly at a horrid realization. The old woman next to me is emitting an unsavory odor. A sour milk and urine mix has been personified in Seat 19B. I shield my face with my open book and discreetly enjoy the smell of its musty yellowed pages.

8:17 PM
Yet another man has stopped in the aisle, albeit only briefly. He has quickly stowed his luggage in the overhead compartment and courteously sat down. Less than a minute later, however, he has decided that he doesn’t need to wear his coat on the plane. He is on his feet again, inducing gridlock as he stashes his outerwear up above. Inadvertently, a woman in the aisle gets smacked in the face with a swinging parka sleeve. The man is unaware.

8:24 PM
My attention turns back to the first confused man. He was ultimately seated by an attendant who responded to his distress call, allowing other passengers to once again pass by. He looks comfortable and relaxed, now. His wife is whispering in his ear. She needs something. The man looks up towards the storage compartment. The object of her longing appears to be in their suitcase. He stands up obstructing the narrow aisle. The line of people backs up so far that the attendants cannot close the airplane door. The man stands on his toes as he rummages through the luggage in the overhead storage compartment. He is looking for something of vital importance. Minutes later, a bottle of water is drawn from the bag. He sits down.

8:31 PM
The passengers have stopped stirring and appear settled. At last, the pilot has announced our imminent departure. Time to buckle up. Upon hearing this, the woman with the water bottle stands up. She looks first towards the front of the plane, and then the back. Excusing herself, she steps into the aisle and looks around yet again. She has chosen the restroom towards the rear of the plane. A fine choice, I am sure. Eleven minutes later, she walks slowly back to her seat. She appears ill. Her soiled bottom leaves vapor trails by the nose of each seated person she passes. I cringe and bury my face further into my book.

8:35 PM
I close my eyes and ponder the feasibility of international bus travel.