Dear Skittles; by Michael Swaim

What the fuck are you trying to do to us? Did you really think you’d get away with it? Did you really think the righteous people of the world would stand idly by and let you rape their mouths without crying out for justice?

Stop selling chocolate Skittles. I have no demand beyond that. Actually, no, that’s a lie.I have a whole list of demands:

1. Stop selling chocolate Skittles.
2. Apologize publicly.
3. Jettison all remaining chocolate Skittles—or any regular Skittles which may have been tainted through accidental contact—into space.
4. Euthanize all the diseased, caged rabbits whose shit you harvest to produce the “pudding” flavor.
5. Fire the Japanese guy in marketing who thought this was a good idea.
6. Put the entirety of your research and development budget towards inventing the technology required to make me forget there ever was such a thing.

The worst part of all this, the bitterest betrayal, lies in the fact that you KNEW I’d have to try them. You know damn well I’m not going stand in line at CVS to pay for my nasal spray and Donettes and not scan the candy rack. And what’s waiting there for me? Lo and behold, an airtight bag of baboon crap.

But I didn’t know that. How could I? To my naïve mind, this was a new experience waiting to be enjoyed, an exciting opportunity to take my taste buds on a chocolaty ride to cocoa town, with a possible pit stop in the unincorporated municipality of Donetteville.

Of course, I had my doubts. You don’t survive Circus Peanuts and Lucas and not realize there’s shitty candy out there. But you had my trust, Skittles. You’re one of the respectable candies; one of the good old boys. Since time out of mind, you’ve been there, right alongside M&M’s and Snickers, reliable as a Toyota pickup hauling a load of delicious fruit that hurts to chew.

Even Sour Skittles were all right; I mean, you waited for Warheads and Sour Patch Kids to pave the way, then you went in. You were smart about it. You didn’t blunder down the hall of candydom farting on black licorice and trying to get me to eat it.

You’ve kept your image fresh, too. You’ve got those funny non-sequitor commercials with the sheep-people, and your bags are about as colorful as they come. So when that little voice in my head said “Michael, chocolate Skittles is a terrible idea,” I just stuffed it down into my subconscious with my summer camp memories and all the gay stuff.

But now, it’s all changed. Now I don’t care how many sheep-headed people or Skittle/Midas hybrids or piñata men tell me to lick their brown rainbow, it won’t erase the holocaust that ripped though my mouth that day, or the hours of my life lost retching into a sink and gargling turpentine after downing a handful of “brownie batter.”

For a while, I was convinced my bag had been accidentally filled with compressed chemical pellets or faulty ball bearings. Each hideous flavor was like a depth charge plummeting into my stomach, there to explode and expel a lethal dose of sour hate.

Except S’mores. S’mores was OK. But that’s no excuse.

Especially when the colors you chose are so similar, it’s nearly impossible to sort the merely crappy flavors from the candy-coated abortions. Note to Skittles: no one wants to eat abortions. That’s like the first thing that was established in the history of candy. That’s like RULE ONE.

The saddest thing of all is that now I don’t even like regular Skittles. Your hot Carl of a candy so coated my tongue with caramel excrement that even the fruity deliciousness of standard, God-fearing, American Skittles have lost their luster. The memories are just too painful.

So congratulations. You made the Attack of the Clones of candy.

If there’s any justice in the world, the next time you’re heard from will be your testimony at the Hague when you’re tried for crimes against humanity.

Sincerely,

A guy who’s way too into candy.

A startling revelation: warning to CNN

i had such faith in you cnn. i've always counted on your ways of showing me such important news like war, death, and poverty without sugar-coating reality like all the wannabe news broadcasts... so let us just say that i was a bit dissapointed when i tuned in to hear about swine flu wiping off another homeless mexican, or the egyptians bleeding their ways out of the catacombs to conjure locusts to feed on our eyes. yet instead i get what?!?!?

i get to hear about Bo, the black presidents black fucking dog!
as it wasn't annoying enough that you people (cnn) exploit the hell out of this flea-bag, you make it worse by making it seem more important than the economic crisis and the stock market crashing.
if all of this wasn't bad enough, people (unlike the robots you are.) have found it marketable to make a comic book based on probably the most retarded fucking pet to step foot in the white house...


i'd seriously understand if it were a badass first pet. obama needs to take lessons from the old-schoolers like theodore roosevelt.

(josiah, the badger)

or something alittle more suttle, but less gay than a yapping football like old whiskers that benjamin harrison had...

never heard of harrison before you say? well i'm sure he never heard of you either, go read a book sometime fag...

but to get back to the topic....it would be highly appreciated if you'd take note and a lesson from all of this, cnn...don't push my fucking buttons by depriving me of global warming and genocide by presenting me dribble that makes me want to stick my penis in a boiled can of stewed potatos.
thanks,
someone with too much time on his hands

Death is a blessing


The sunrise takes hold of my eyes.
No longer more is life prioritized.
The reallity of existence no more,
as my imperfections spill unto the floor.
I never asked for life, yet I never wanted death.
I never understood why, this vagina received my breath.
This blackhole of nothing is damnation,
as I reach for sleep from the coffin's door.
ripping, and tearing, I no longer want to be,
this puppet of life; please set me free...
"sleep on your ass so the birds don't pick your seeds."
Oil Tycoon Jesus

What The Fuck?!?!?

Pictured below is an actual photo (not enhanced) of a mutant of a rabbit....Apparently, this guy in Germany raises them for the meat...



It reminds me alot of a classic film I haven't seen since I was a little kid...Night of the Lepus



In fact, if I remember correctly, that movie was fucking awesome!

Famous Last Words...

Last words of James French, convicted murderer



Last words of Tallulah Bankhead, actress...Another great quote of hers "Cocaine isn't habit-forming, I should know--I've been using it for years."



Last words of Voltaire, philosopher...his response to a priest at the side of his deathbed, asking Voltaire to use the precious few moments left to renounce Satan.

Taken from www.cracked.com

Washing the dishes (My favorite thing to do.)

- While doing this oh so wonderful of a chore, if a piece of food phlumpkin even touches me I'll begin to gag uncontrollably...It doesn't matter if I even know what it was that just blessed my finger with it's presence. The feel of a soggy turd on me makes me want to vomit.

-When somebody puts say a used paper towel in the sink, buried under some dirty dishes to where it's not spotted untill it's already the texture of a heeping pile of big bird shit, it sets me off into a seizure of rage.

-By far my favorite thing to wash would have to be a cake pan that has been used for cooking a casserole or some jazz, and all these chunks have been incinerated along the sides...Sure, a brillo-pad will take it right off there, and also Hall & Oates were awesome.

-If there isn't a garbage disposal, you can forget about me pulling the plug to drain that nasty water. It's bad enough that you'll most likely come in contact with food phlumkins, but then you have to clean them all out of the sink once it drains?!?! No thanks! I'm good...

-The kitchen sink could be spotless, but I still refuse to wash my hands in it. (I'm aware of the cess-pool of food germs that have been there.)

-Let us move on to the dishwasher...First off, I sort of have an o.c.d. way of going about loading it. (The teaspoons have to be with the teaspoons, steak knives with the steak knives, etc...)
I actually find it frustrating if I have to combine them.

-When you go to put away the "clean dishes" from the dishwasher, and yet there's still a piece of cheerio still stuck to a bowl. By this time you're better off taking a blowtorch to it, oppse to a washcloth, cause that bitch is going nowhere.

-Or when you're putting away the "clean tupperwear" and it feels like there's a layer of jizz on it...Needless to say it goes in the trash. And they wonder why we have so many extra lids...

Okay, I've got my bitch in for the day.
Dannibal -I-

Cockburns Introduction

Come one come all, to the land of pro-creation... And reality telivsion... Some times you have to sit back and think. What would Jesus do if this was his cocaine? But I guess the real question here is.... Have you figured out how to switch hands and gain an extra stroke....But on a serious note; Yank me, crank me; But don't wake up and thank me. I hope that everybody that reads this blog, goes out and joins the millitary tomorrow, like my 14 year old sister......Everyone needs to get their cherry popped supporting our cunt-ry......Stop thinking dirty thoughts about my little sister. You fucking pedophile....Anywho, Taco Bell rules, and Mexicans have the best cocaine. West-side Boyyyyy. Cream is the total shit, thanks for reading,


Cockburn