Rusty Never Sleeps - the Official Site of the First Unichurck at oneear.blogspot.com is now the #1 search result on Google for the query "ron paul autofellatio." Now the herd shall come home to roost. (For some reason, we don't show up for the search "LBok autopederasty").
Once again, the FU is on the bleeding edge of US Presidential politics. Congratulations all the way around. Interestingly, I note that the folks at the Mapleleafweb.com site also have drawn the connection between Presidential candidate Ron Paul and the hedgehog. I fear the Canadians are trying to scoop us. Come on real Americans.
The only official site of The First Unification Church of Kooking (fka the First Unification Church of Knowledge)(aka 1st Unichurck) and its house band, the Clown Squad (Affiliated with the community service organization The Underminers' Society of America). --THIS BLOG IS FOR RELIGIOUS, SCIENTIFIC AND EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY--(Not tested on animals)
Showing posts with label warthog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label warthog. Show all posts
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Friday, December 29, 2006
Year of the Man
Some might say that this was a bad year for yours truly, OneEar. The year began and ended with bookend strokes by my father, OneHWEar. This caused the entire Ear family untold anxiety. In April, I was beaten senseless and hospitalized by some overly-enthusiastic entrepreneurs who were engaged in a "give us your wallet" business enterprise. Recently, a friend somehow managed to get f^cked at the Virgin Islands. And, surprisingly, throughout the year, my get rich quick schemes were neither quick nor enriching. But those who might claim that the year 2006 sucked warthog scrotum would be wrong.
Why is that? Because I finally received a minute slice of the massive recognition which I so obviously deserve - I was named Time magazine "Man of the Year." Although I had neither the time nor the inclination to read beyond the cover of the magazine, I applaud Time for their admiration of me, and I applaud God for setting up the universe in such a fashion that I could receive this honor. Obviously, there is an intelligent design.
Whether this long-overdue recognition arises from my groundbreaking work in cynicism, ennui, and the alienating aspects of relationalism, from my work as a children's author, or from my leadership of one of the fastest growing religions on this blog, this recognition is, well, deserved. All that I can say is "bravo" to Time magazine and to God. You got it right for once.
Why is that? Because I finally received a minute slice of the massive recognition which I so obviously deserve - I was named Time magazine "Man of the Year." Although I had neither the time nor the inclination to read beyond the cover of the magazine, I applaud Time for their admiration of me, and I applaud God for setting up the universe in such a fashion that I could receive this honor. Obviously, there is an intelligent design.
Whether this long-overdue recognition arises from my groundbreaking work in cynicism, ennui, and the alienating aspects of relationalism, from my work as a children's author, or from my leadership of one of the fastest growing religions on this blog, this recognition is, well, deserved. All that I can say is "bravo" to Time magazine and to God. You got it right for once.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Nutty
Sometimes, when I am holed up in my office, I begin to fantasize that people are generally fundamentally good. In order to shock myself back into reality, I like to take a trip to Wal-Mart. I just returned from such a re-awakening expedition, and my contempt for mankind is refreshingly renewed.
It is not the shelf after shelf of slave labor by foreign children that bothers me so much. Slaves do need to work or else what good are they? And I certainly cannot afford more than $4.00 for a 3-pack of T-shirts. What do you expect me to do, wear a stained undergarment?
The troubling thing about Wal-Mart is not Wal-Mart, it is the Wal-Martians. This is a species of obese, mentally challenged creatures that wanders the aisles aimlessly amassing stuff. You can tell by the glazed look in their eyes that they have surrendered completely, and the slave-master has been enslaved.
These zombies insist upon getting in my way at each and every turn of my journey, and they are the very definition of inefficiency. Why must you and your family stop at the entrance in a Red-Rover formation while you view the crap that is on special? Why must you place your cart directly in my way before you back across the aisle to view some non-existent fantasy-item on the top shelf? Why do you insist upon choosing the only item in the entire store without a bar code so that we all have to wait while Lawn&Garden figures out how much to charge for a rake?
The ostensible reason for my journey amongst the Wal-Martians was because of the holidays. We are deep frying a turkey for Thanksgiving because that is how the Pilgrims would have done it if they were alive today and if they had modified the turkey into a grotesquely shaped bird with a bounty of white meat.
And the Pilgrims would have used peanut oil. I'm not sure why we need peanut oil, but my mother was very specific about this detail. It was the kind of direction that one is tempted to ignore just to see how big the fire would be, but I chickened out.
So here is my gripe. The froaching peanut oil is more expensive than the harf-gamped turkey!!! I can get a 20lb bird for $12.00, but a giant thing of oil is $20.00!?! I guess those slaves don't work for peanuts anymore. Or, perhaps they do. Is there a peanut scarcity?
It is not the shelf after shelf of slave labor by foreign children that bothers me so much. Slaves do need to work or else what good are they? And I certainly cannot afford more than $4.00 for a 3-pack of T-shirts. What do you expect me to do, wear a stained undergarment?
The troubling thing about Wal-Mart is not Wal-Mart, it is the Wal-Martians. This is a species of obese, mentally challenged creatures that wanders the aisles aimlessly amassing stuff. You can tell by the glazed look in their eyes that they have surrendered completely, and the slave-master has been enslaved.
These zombies insist upon getting in my way at each and every turn of my journey, and they are the very definition of inefficiency. Why must you and your family stop at the entrance in a Red-Rover formation while you view the crap that is on special? Why must you place your cart directly in my way before you back across the aisle to view some non-existent fantasy-item on the top shelf? Why do you insist upon choosing the only item in the entire store without a bar code so that we all have to wait while Lawn&Garden figures out how much to charge for a rake?
The ostensible reason for my journey amongst the Wal-Martians was because of the holidays. We are deep frying a turkey for Thanksgiving because that is how the Pilgrims would have done it if they were alive today and if they had modified the turkey into a grotesquely shaped bird with a bounty of white meat.
And the Pilgrims would have used peanut oil. I'm not sure why we need peanut oil, but my mother was very specific about this detail. It was the kind of direction that one is tempted to ignore just to see how big the fire would be, but I chickened out.
So here is my gripe. The froaching peanut oil is more expensive than the harf-gamped turkey!!! I can get a 20lb bird for $12.00, but a giant thing of oil is $20.00!?! I guess those slaves don't work for peanuts anymore. Or, perhaps they do. Is there a peanut scarcity?
Friday, November 17, 2006
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