Dogfuckers, Unite. You have nothing to lose but your dogfucking.

Posted in Uncategorized on January 31, 2015 by blindwino

Shit. This thing is still here? I kept a baby that’s half-related to me alive for two years. That was the goal. The rest is cake.

Time to start posting bullshit again.

Retarded Grump on the Go

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on June 26, 2009 by blindwino

Man, what a dick I was on the last post. I mean, it’s totally true…but now I actually have something to write about beyond “wow, look at the song/video/book I had absolutely nothing to do with other than finding it and now I’m linking to in an attempt to graft its coolness/hilarity/obscurity onto my own, admittedly lame public identity with comments assuredly far more trite and pedestrian than the original content”.

Ex: “Wow, I can’t believe MJ’s exploding heart trumped Farah Fawcett’s anal cancer. Makes me want to listen to the new Grizzly Projectors record!” (insert dead link to mediafire here.)

Anyways, traveling through the Middle East now. As most of these countries are police states with heavily monitored Internets, I’m just filling notebooks. Then, when I’m home, I’ll delete this post and start updating like I’m still there. Police state solved!

In the meantime, satiate yourselves with this dogmess.

Already Bored

Posted in Uncategorized on June 11, 2009 by blindwino

Eh. I’m remembering why I stopped doing this. It’s boring. And feels desperate. I mean, when I was broke, lonely, bored, and perpetually drunk, it made sense. I needed attention. Interaction. Something. Release valve #9 for the brain. But fuck. I’m happy as hell now. Who gives a shit about any of this? An hour of my day to entertain some cubicled mouthbreather for ten seconds? Temporary, transient, doomed. Like humanity.

Off to do some real writing…

Me Read Good: The Serpent and the Rainbow

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on June 3, 2009 by blindwino

Just finished Serpent and the Rainbow, a moving little bit of nonfiction about a timid boy and the zombis who love him.

Plot: Harvard Anthro-botanist goes to Haiti, gets possessed by the loa, and then spends the rest of his vacation running around soundsystems and spilling all the tourists drinks to the dismay of various selecters. He makes friends, influences chickens, but unlike Limbaugh, does not need boner medicine to get the party started. Toad poison, mothballs, and gutter rum do the trick.

But, amidst his Hatio-hobnobbery he manages to figure out the whole zombi thing. SPOILER: It’s pufferfish venom. It slows the body to coma state for up to a week. Same thing happens to the Fugu Freaks in Japan. If the dosage is right, the person gets dug out of the grave, is shaken awake, gets the shit kicked out of him, and is then administered serious plant hallucinogens to destroy his short-term memory (Sort of like grad school, but with fewer long-term disabilities.)

However, this shitty ritual (henceforth shitual) exists within a sociocultural framework that supports the zombie story. Just like Mexicans see Jesuses and Virgins Mary in packs of Bimbo pre-toasted toast, and Americans think there is a red guy with a pitchfork forcing them to eat that extra piece of fried chicken and watch gay porn, the zombi is more of a social death than an actual one, aligned with ideas about the metaphysical underpinnings of how the world works. People chosen to be livin’ dead are basically dicks that folks don’t want around anymore. So even after the chumps wise up and figure out that they’re not really zombis, everyone still treats them like they are. Beats the shit out of call screening.

Good read. By the end of this anthropoligist’s depiction, voudon makes more sense than the bleeding Catholic tripe that the Americans tried to replace it with during the years of the occupation. No, no. The universe isn’t made up of numerous gods who temporarily possess followers during localized rituals to impart strength and wisdom. Primitive Idiots! Ridiculous beliefs! The truth is that God becomes a cracker and then you eat the cracker. And then you drink the blood. Which looks like wine. But it isn’t. Because it’s blood. But not pagan blood. Holy blood. And if you don’t believe that, well, you spend eternity with a little red man who has a pitchfork and forces you to watch gay porn.

Yay religion!

If you have enjoyed hearing about zombies and would like to know more, please to consult this fine tome.

Wino Internationale

Posted in Uncategorized on June 2, 2009 by blindwino

Jesus fuck. Am I starting this up again? Like I’m not already neck deep in my own fecal wash?

Let’s try to fill in 3 years. I am alive. I am in Pittsburgh working through a Phd in Applied Linguistics, with a focus on Argument Study. I have not written anything fun since the beginning of coursework, which finished a month ago. I have not read anything without a title like “Metadiscursive Resources for Narrative Recontextualization” for over three years. I teach writing to college freshmen who generally wield an insanely overblown sense of entitlement–it’s sort of like Helium, except it makes you sound even stupider when you talk. Checkov wrote that the loudest opinons are held by people who’ve never had to struggle. I have two years of empirical evidence to back this up. It is amazing how uninterrupted privilege yields Social Darwinists of the most violent sorts.  I am currently working with the university propulsion lab to bottle this sentiment (I call it Smugulon-13) and use it as an endless energy supply for deep-space exploration. Rumor has it that Christian heaven is somewhere in the Hogwash Nebula. If I can help with its discovery and eventual destruction, it will all have been worth it.

A month ago, I was analyzing argument structures for federal whistleblowers testifying before Congress. Today I am drinking Yuengling tall boys in my underwear, playing Oblivion, and listening to my entire grindcore collection on random. Five years ago today I was unemployed and furious. One month from now I will be back in the Middle East teaching high school students how to argue in English. (Note: Anyone who thinks they know shit about how to win an argument should go 14 seconds with an Egyptian.) I’ve been doing this for a while. Complaining is for complainers. And if we’re shooting for a non-retarded world, this seems a more effective tactic than dropping bombs on people…although the results aren’t as instantly gratifying to the hairless apes perpetually in charge of the whirlybird..

My old site? Mmm, come with me as we travel through the excretory system of late-capitalism’s terminal decline! I lost my URL to Network Solutions, who are a smoking carload of hooting retards. Somehow they managed to find an email account from 15 years ago as my primary contact. Then, though I tracked them down before the URL expired, they wouldn’t let me renew without paying $150 extra. Fuck ’em.  Blindwino was bought by some Limey Sisterfister and is being used as a tool to get links on Google. He wanted $1500 for my site. Yay! Please feel free to email him with time-wasting offers and recipes for hymen pirogi.

Okay. Enough sobriety for one day. I must stuporize myself in anticipation of the Pens ritual disembowelment of the Red Wangs. Go Pens!