shout out to the justice system. you fucked over my little sister.
3 years ago my little sister got run over by a semi-truck. fucked her leg up bad. she had the right of way. bad news for her the USPS was driving that truck. she sued to get them to pay her medical bills and a modest amount for pain and suffering. she won for the medical bills, that was cool. USPS appealed and took it Appellate Court and guess what happened. It ruled in favor of itself. So now she gets to pay for the medical bills from the semi-truck hitting her while she was lawfully in the cross walk! HA!
My little sister gets it twice.
the lesson learned here?
fuck the government.
rulings like that make me understand violence towards the system.
But my sister isn’t fazed she took it on the chin from that bitch ass judge like a fucking champ and she kept on trucking. You can run her down and tap her pockets and she might even limp a bit when she’s tired, but you’ll never take her spirit.
Stay gold Wellie. i love you.
when joelle and jack aren’t milking goats or churning butter they catch snowflakes on their tongues!
I got this from the michiganlawyerblog.wordpress.com
whipsaw (hwip‘sô’) vt. … 2. to defeat or get the best of (a person) two ways at once … Webster’s New World College Dictionary (4th Ed. 2007)
Joelle Premo was riding her bike in Royal Oak when a U.S. Postal Service truck hit her while she was in a crosswalk. Premo suffered a badly broken leg.
Premo did not have a no-fault insurance policy. She didn’t need one because she didn’t own a car. So, her attorney got in touch with the USPS to file a claim.
The USPS responded with a polite letter explaining that it was self-insured and that, thanks to the Supremacy Clause of the United States Constitution, Michigan’s no-fault act didn’t apply to the USPS. Included was helpful information about how to file a claim under the Federal Tort Claims Act, which, said the USPS, is the only possible way to get any money.
An FTCA claim was filed, and a fairly large one at that — $197,569.80 for personal injury and the property damage to Premo’s bicycle. The USPS responded with another polite letter. The USPS said, in so many words, we’ve looked into this, we’re terribly sorry you were hurt but our driver didn’t do anything wrong, good luck to you.
Premo decided against applying for insurance benefits from the state’s Assigned Claims Facility and instead sued in federal district court.
In Judge Avern Cohn’s courtroom, the USPS did a 180 and argued mightly that the FTCA required application of the no-fault act and that Premo was not entitled to either economic or noneconomic damages.
Cohn turned aside Premo’s argument that the USPS should be stopped from using the no-fault act first as a shield and later as a sword. He accepted the USPS’s arguments, in part, and awarded Premo $34,768.62 in economic damages.
Nobody was happy with Cohn’s ruling. But Premo was even less happy when the Sixth Circuit was through with the case.
Indeed, Michigan’s no-fault act applies to Premo’s situation, the appeals court ruled. The FTCA requires application of state law.
Then, as far as Premo was concerned, it got worse.
Under the FTCA, wrote Judge Eric Clay,
the government may be liable “for … personal injury or death caused by the negligent or wrongful act or omission of any employee of the Government.” 28 U.S.C.A. § 1346(b)(1) (emphasis added). …
Pursuant to the No-Fault Act, a person injured can collect PIP benefits “without regard to fault.” M.C.L.A. § 500.3105(2). Given this language, “[a]bsolute liability … arises irrespective of how the tortfeasor conducts himself … . The degree of care used in performing the activity is irrelevant … .” Dalehite v. United States, 346 U.S. 15, 44-45 (1953). Thus, Michigan law imposes strict liability for economic damages in motor vehicle accident cases.
Bottom line: No-fault liability for PIP benefits is established without a finding of fault. Recovery under the FTCA is not possible without a finding of fault. Premo gets nothing, the Sixth Circuit ruled, and that’s her fault:
Plaintiff’s source of relief for economic damages was Michigan’s assigned claims plan, a remedy which she failed to pursue.
"A government that legislates increased profits and price deregulation for the largest capitalist corporations, while passing laws that require the population to purchase the products of those for-profit enterprises, is more often associated with FASCISM - particularly when the economy is dependent upon military production and requires cuts in social welfare programs, public infrastructure, & workers’ real wages."
we share the same sentiments. that’s how i was feeling when they introduced that health care bill and gave corporations the rights of private citizens with none of the responsibilities of citizens within the same couple weeks. shit seemed real fishy to me, but i couldn’t really articulate it. they’re making everybody buy health insurance from private corporations so it’ll be cheaper. hrrrm cheaper like how car insurance is cheaper. wait no it isn’t but i still have to buy it if i wanna drive and the prices are fixed. Thanks for passing a law that makes us powerless to the whims of the corporations. thanks “democrats”! wink wink. Thanks government!! i stopped hoping this world would change. i’m just working on being happy within it and making enough money so the fleecing doesn’t effect me. so take your little HOPE sticker and shove it up your ass.
Best pussy I ever had, this mixed virgin chick named Heather. Her shit was about eight degrees hotter than normal and hugged my dick the whole way through. I busted in like 3 minutes flat, played it off like we were quitting cuz I didn’t wanna make her sore. She pretended to believe me, we spooned for a sec, then she bailed.
She went away to school two days after that, we were supposed to hook up winter break but the night before our rendezvous someone broke into the Hyundai and got me for everything i had, including my organizer under the seat. It had her number in it and I never called like I said I would and we never hooked up and didn’t see her again for another 2 years.
The next time we ran into each other was at a bar, she told me she’d been dating some defensive lineman from Howard for the past year. I smiled and nodded and inside cursed the day that big football playing motherfucker ran up in her. Her pussy was ruined forever. It would never fit the same again. We chatted a bit more then I went on my way. I didn’t ask for her number that time.
Second best pussy ever, i forget. Nobody remembers second place, remember that losers! But I’ll tell you this much, Angie the Twin is top 5. Angie was this little half Mexican half Indian chick from southwest Detroit, that’s Tonto not Gandhi Indian. She was the good twin, her sister Erika was the wild one. Erika was the stripper and Angie worked the door at the same bar.
I met Erika at this after hours spot on Woodward by McNichols, Numbers. It was a gay bar but everybody went there. You’d see trannies and Chaldeans and club girls on the dance floor, thugs posted up by the pool table, serving coke and e, Albanians at the bar tricking off their Coney Island money on strippers and rave kids on the ground against the walls rubbing each other, rolling their asses off.
I chopped it up with Erika for a minute and bailed. When i saw her again on the streets she acted like she didn’t know me. Turned out to be her sister Angie. I pulled her instead.
We went out a few times, I’d come visit her at the titty bar or I’d go see her at her spot on the east side. The night we smashed I was at her house but i was supposed to go swoop up another chick and fuck with her. She ain’t say shit, didn’t get jealous or anything she just sat there watching Practical Magic. I went outside and i couldn’t get my car started, I tried everything. Nothing. I called my sister she said she’d get me in the morning. I stayed the night, we banged, it was the shit.
When i woke up the next morning I went out to the car, just to see if i could get it to start again and it started right up. Fucked me up.
I thought back to the witchcraft movie Angie was watching and the tomahawks and dream catchers all over the crib and said, “Hell naw this chick put some ol Medicine Woman, hoodoo voodoo, tribal witch doctor shit on my motherfucking car.”
Got the fuck out of there.
Her vagina was spectacular but i never slept with her again. It kills me because I had to keep stopping. I needed a do over but didn’t even try. We’re friends to this day but i never slept with her again.
Few months later, she got me a sweater for my birthday, a cream joint with a stripe along the bottom. Called me up the next week, she was the beer tub girl at this spot in Rochester, she wanted me to come out and see her, wear the sweater.
Me and Danny rolled out there, I drove. We stopped at my gas station the 76 on 8 mile and John R next to the Booby Trap to get some gas.
I put 5 on it and got a pack of Black and Milds and some Big Red chewing gum. You used to be able to fill up your car for 10 dollars back then. The dude working behind the Plexiglas was some straight from Yemen, work 18 hours a day, type motherfucker, probably slept on a broke down card board box in the back, gave me too much change. I was gonna keep it but then i was like, ‘nah, his cousin’d prolly dock him a weeks pay for that shit.’ gave him his 40 back.
He smiled and thanked me.
I walked out to pump the gas patting myself on the back for doing the “right thing”, Danny walks in past me. “You want a Faygo?”
"Nah, I’m good."
I’m at the island pressing buttons, get the nozzle in the car when i hear from behind me in a little squeaky voice, “Run yo pockets bitch!!!”
I turn around it’s a little fat ass twelve year old standing 5 feet from me with a .22 rifle leveled at me.
I know it’s a .22 because when i was 15 I had the exact same one, loaned it to Jeremiah Tutstone, he shot himself in the foot with it and i never saw it again. Jeremiah ended up in jail 2 years after that for robbing some white boys outside a Taco Bell in Waterford. He did 3 years for that came out i gave him some clothes and loaned him some money to get him back on his feet and he ducked me. Ducked me for 40 dollars, fuck em, 40 bucks is a cheap price to separate the real from the fake. Last I heard of him he went crazy and shaves his eyebrows.
So that’s how I knew it was a .22 because i had the same gun. I’m staring at some little fat Doe Boy lookin’ motherfucker, wielding my gun at me at me, telling me to run my pockets.
In my head I’m like, ‘Fuck this little fat motherfucker take that gun.’
And then I’m like, ‘Motherfucker is you crazy? He’s got a fucking gun dog! Give him your money’
But then I’m like, ‘It’s a fuckin .22 you can’t kill nobody with a fuckin .22!”
'No but you can get shot with a .22, all you got is 12 dollars on you, doctor bill cost more than 12 dollars, you don't got insurance mother fucker. Give up the cash. Run it, run it, run it!'
I’m looking at the fat boy all of 2 seconds having this conversation in my head, when two more voices with a little more bass in ‘em come from behind me. “Run yo pockets nigga! Run them shits!! Get em dog, get that muhfucka!”
The internal struggle ceases and I’m reaching in pocket to give em my shit, wishing i wasn’t such a bitch. Wishing I was a little more Stephen Segal or like one of my crazy ass friends who don’t consider a lack of health care providers or medical bills when getting robbed, they just went nuts.
I look over, see Danny coming out the store with a Faygo Red Pop. He sees me with a gun on me, does an about face, turns his ass around and goes right back into the gas station.
They got me in a triangle, i’m looking at the gun listening to voices. Other people keep pumping their gas, they got their heads down, they won’t look at me. The one behind me’s tellin me to hit the ground. I look down, that shit is fucking filthy. I got on a cream sweater, cream cargos and some Lugz, I’m like, ‘fuuuck that!’
I say, “Come on man, this my Birthday Sweater.”
They’re like, “Bitch get on the fucking ground.”
So i do.
I’m in a half push up trying not to touch the sweater to the ground. Fatboy’s got the gun pointed at my head, the other two are rifling through my pockets like it’s theirs. They get the money and leave the Black and Milds, leave the gum and my license.
One of ‘em’s like, “Get his car, get his car.”
They take the keys out my pocket.
"Dog it’s a Hyundai."
They leave me my car.
But my dignity goes with them.
I just got robbed by a 12 year old, for 12 fucking dollars. That splits 3 ways is 4 bucks a piece. That ain’t shit but a 40 and a fucking bag of chips. Go and buy your food I hope you joke on it bitch.
I don’t call the cops I got warrants myself. I get in the car spark up a Black and drive off. Danny’s counting his money.
I blame the sweater, I been to that gas station a hundred times and never had a problem, the minute I throw on that fucking witch doctor sweater some kids rob me.
I show up to the club, in the sweater, it’s still clean. Give Angie a hug, stay for a drink and bounce. I run into Nichole, this little christian chick with TMJ on the way out, tell her about getting robbed. She takes me to her car and blows me. I sit there in the passenger seat watching her head go up and down against the cream knit. i cursed the sweater while her jaw clicked the whole time through.
i was at some shitty art opening the other night with nicholas. the art wasn’t that bad, it was middling, but the there people sucked. i tried mingling. i asked some dude a question about the artist and he answered me with such contempt, i thought we were gonna have to fight.
he walked away. i looked at nicholas, i said, “i think i hate that dude.”
that happened a couple more times, i’d speak to somebody and they’d look at me like i just exposed my genitals and they were covered with warts, they’d then quickly move to another part of the room, shook to the core, take a swig off their pbr and try to forget their run in with a peasant.
fine fuck you, we don’t gotta be friends. sometimes i forget that not everybody has the social graces of me, rude jude, mr. mid-west sensibility.
i was ready to leave that motherfucker after some art bitch hit the stage and sang beyonce whilst hula-hooping the whole tune through. die bitch. i have no tolerance for these art fuckers and their forced irony. here’s the thing about irony if you’re trying too hard to be ironic, you’re self aware and it’s no longer ironic, it’s just douchey. “irony” is for those people who don’t have the balls to claim what they really like, so they do it with a wink just in case you reject them, then say they were just kidding anyway. how do you think mustaches became cool again? some hipster dipshit did it with a wink, it caught on now there’s dudes all over silver lake looking like rollie fingers.
anyway i’m on my way out the door when i ran into my homeboy daniel. he’s a good dude, i know him from detroit, we go way back. he used to date my sister’s best friend for years but some dude had touched him when he was a kid and he ended gay. i don’t see him that much, we run in different circles but we’re homies. he struggled with it, the gay shit, the molestation, he’d take pictures of his dick covered in blood, shit like that. i think he published a book with his dick in it, bloody, just trying to heal but that was years ago, he’s happy now, i think.
we’re catching up. he’s asking how i’m doing, what i’m up to. i tell him about the blog, how i wanna write a book. how i been writing but’ve been off that bitch for like a month.
he says, “why?”
i tell him, “i been dealing with taxes and this move. my head’s crazy, plus i got no place to write. once i get back on-line, i’ma start writing again.”
he says, “Dude, you sound like one of those guys from back home, ‘once i move out my mom’s house i’m gonna…’ ‘as soon as i get hired at this one place i’m gonna get that car….’ “
i say, “i know i sound straight loser. excuses excuses excuses.”
he goes, “don’t be a bum, just write.”
i say, “i’m gonna.”
he’s looking at me like i’m full of shit. it stings.
i see what he’s saying. i’m sittin here for a month like a fucking bum, getting rusty. i’m not sharp, i’m not hungry, i’m not wiry. i’m just rusty. but i got my reasons.
i was listening to royce da 5’9 the other day, boom. and i got chills, i’ve heard the song a hundred times before. but this time was different. i was listening to the way he spit line after line, bar after bar. fire and precision. i sat there with my goose bumps and said, here is a man with laser like focus. it was inspiring it made me wanna write.
my life’s been hectic, i haven’t been able to give anything that focus. my shows, i been mailing ‘em in. my home was in disarray, my writing’s in shambles but that’s all gonna change. shit’s opening up.
i see these kids nowadays, they multitask everything. they’re watching tv, on the computer, texting motherfuckers, twittering about what they just saw on the tube. there’s no focus. they end up doing 5 things poorly instead of one thing well. they’re mediocre.
i see it with adults too. people got jobs and websites and blogs. jesus christ the blogs. everybody has a fucking blog. everybody has to have their five little fingers in 5 different pies. stop. be good at one thing. get good at that then move onto the next thing. here’s a news flash for you. most of your blogs suck. they’re boring, poorly written and they have no heart. you’re fooling yourself if you think people care. shit, some motherfucker’s blogs are just a collection of random pictures. really? that’s the best you got? i’m over here bleeding on this fucking key board and you’re collecting pictures? whatever, do you. do what makes you happy. but i tell you this that’s not what i aspire to be.
this shit might hurt some of the readers feelings, i’m sure a lot of you write your own blogs. maybe it applies, maybe it doesn’t. if it makes you feel better, i dont read anyone’s blogs so i’m not talking about you. but if your feelings are hurt and you think it applies, either give up, or try harder. me, i’m gonna try harder.
i don’t know what i’m gonna write about tomorrow but i’ll figure it out when i get there.
cats have been hitting me to update this blog, i’m gonna, as soon as i get the internet at the crib. right now, i got nowhere to write and it’s killing me. trust me i wanna write too. i be waking up at the crack of dawn with nothing to do. yeah i could go to the coffee shop by the crib but it’s a bunch of out of work, no talent screen writers in that bitch typing away. i don’t want any of their loser juice to rub off on me so i avoid it like the plague. the cable guy will be here at the end of the month so check back early april, i’ll be back then.
lately, i’ve been sleeping in to avoid having to write on this fucking blog. well i woke up early today, some random internet bitch was sending me fake pictures of her ass, i gotta stop giving my number out to these random bitches. anyway i’m up now, so no excuses, time to write. i thought i’d hit you with a part deux of the shit i don’t fuck wit today. so without further ado here it is,
I Don’t Fuck Wit……
when did these monstrosities start happening? the bachelorette party? really? what a bridal shower wasn’t good enough for you? you have to have a shower and a bachelorette party too? spend a little bit more money on your wedding why don’t you. the guys can’t have all the fun, right ladies?!
that’s the problem with women’s lib, sure it got women out the house to work, but all that did was shatter gender roles and raise the cost of everything. now we got chicks rolling around in white limos and party vans, drunk with penis scepters, just so they can be like the guys. embarrassing.
look, i fucking hate Bachelor parties, a bunch of dudes in a room together gawking at some chicks vagina is not my idea of a good time. but what i hate more, is a bunch of sloppy chicks trying to be like dudes, wielding dicks and tiaras, stumbling drunk in and out of bars yelling girl power. have some fucking class ladies. you wanna get drunk? load up on the pinot gris at the bridal shower and leave the douchieness to us men. we’re built for it.
Chicks born post Thriller!!!
As i get older and stay single my choice of women has changed. there are less and less single ladies my age due to the fact that most these chicks are coupled up or dead. that leaves me with the option of linking up with Generation Next!! wooo!! someone stab me.
instead of getting all bummed about having to text and tweet these bitches, i just operate my dating life using the thriller rule.
the thriller rule means if you’re born after 83, it’s a wrap for us, i will never take you serious, sure we can fuck but that’s about it. and i’ll only smash if it’s not a hassle and you know what good sex is. good sex meaning orgasms not duration. and if i gotta sit there and listen to you talk about your college courses then deals off.
young chicks are good for two things, fucking or marrying. that’s all. you either bang and keep it light, or you marry them lock ‘em down and mold that little mind of theirs into the wife you want them to be. me i want neither.so i don’t try very hard.
last thing, chances are if you see some old dude with a 21 year old she’s not really mature, he’s just a creep.
while we’re talking about chicks, i don’t fuck wit….
These Dumb Bitches who Fuck wit Effeminate Men!!!!
As we get softer and softer our tastes do too i suppose. i see this more and more out here in these easy streets of LA, chicks hugged up on straight bitch mufuckas. maybe they see someone with an androgynous style as having a more progressive mindset. or perhaps they find masculinity threatening. fine, fair enough, you don’t gotta like me.
but let’s not kid ourselves here, just because he doesn’t act like a man doesn’t mean he’s not gonna act like a man. he’ll still fuck you over and cheat on you with your home girl, only this guy’s not opening doors or paying for dinners either. that feminine shit is just a style they adorn to fuck dumb bitches like you.
One way to tell if you’re living in a wealthy country is by their allergies! go to mongolia, they’re not allergic to a fucking thing, they’ll eat the fur off a dog. but here in the good ol U.S of A we got allergies galore and the new allergy dujor, is being allergic to wheat!! i guess we’re not doing as bad as we thought we were!! fuck a recession!!
a wheat allergy is a little allergy rich people with too much time on their hands acquire so that they have something to discuss over dinner. the symptoms include, among other things, feeling bloated, tired and congested.
wait, i ate a shit load of bread and i felt lethargic and bloated as well!! i probably got that shit full blown! i’m a wheat allergy survivor, be nice to me.
i went out to a birthday dinner a couple months ago, some jappy bitch rolls up late and sits across from me. she starts claimin’ wheat and soy allergies, has the pregnant waitress running back and forth to the kitchen to get the complete list of ingredients for all their sauces, orders some made up shit not on the menu and gets a separate check. then while eating her weird salad admits she cheated the night before with pasta. i hope that since dinner on that fateful night four months ago she’s died in a terrible plane crash. the end.
look lemme clarify this one, i’m all for employing the GPS when you’re on vacation or hitting some city you never been to. but my friends here in the city of angels are straight O.D.ing on it. they use it all the time just to get around town.
what the GPS has successfully done is taken people with a poor sense of direction and made it worse.
i will sit in the car with these motherfuckers and watch as they take the weirdest rout to get to a place right down the street just because some little computer voice told them to. it’s like common sense is being tossed out the window and what are we getting in exchange? dependency on yet another device.
question. how did you get there before the nice lady with the computer voice told you what to do asshole?
here i’ll help my LA friends. from hollywood, the hills are to the north, mexicans, armenian and asians are to the east, rich people and jews are west and if you drive to a black area you went too far south. you’re welcome.
but you know what else i don’t fuck wit?
Motherfuckers dick riding Jay Dilla
Jay Dilla is a detroit producer who passed away a few years ago form lupis. R.I.P. dilla. the shit that kills me is since his death a whole bunch of yoko ono’s have made whole careers by dick riding this dude. Get off his motherfuckin nuts! quit coming out the woodwork trying to claim some connection to him and stop rocking “Dilla Changed My Life” shirts. cuz real talk before he died you wasn’t even fucking with dilla. the shirts should say “Dilla’s Death Changed My Life” and if that’s your truth then that’s some bullshit.
i refuse to be party to little bitch ass passive aggressive music movements that require me to apologize for my whiteness. my ex would drag me to these things and it’d be a bunch of hatin’ ass corny motherfuckers with fedoras. just cuz you dress like you from the 60’s don’t make you conscious bitch!! you ain’t part of no movement, you just like jill scott, that’s all. get over yourself.
These motherfuckers who actually think there’s a difference between Democrats and Republicans!!!
we went and got ourselves a BLACK democrat president and got a supermajority in the senate and house and what the fuck did we get? more war and cash for clunkers. well fuck you very much america.
these politicians are all a bunch of gangsters, the dream is dead.
once again people i don’t know if you know this or not but, i’m a reverend. i’m a minister. i’m a man of god. i’m signified and bonafied. so what do i do with all my godliness? i give back to all you godless peasants. once a week i take confessions and absolve people of their sins. click play above and listen as i save lives and save souls.
i believe it was a week ago today that i posted my "a few things i fuck wit" blog. ahh i remember it like it was yesterday. i sat there, all bitter and pissed and i made a choice, to focus on the good. well this week i’m all bitter and pissed again but this time i figure we might as well go with it. i’ll give some bad with the good, some ying to the yang, if you will. so sit back and enjoy a few things i don’t fuck wit.
warning if you don’t wanna read me getting pissy i suggest you sit this one out.
I Don’t Fuck Wit…….
The Dalai Lama!!!!
man fuck this guy! i’ve never seen a more ineffective leader. he’s not very good at freeing tibet, is he? but he’s fucking great at getting paid for speaking engagements. way to make bank off the blood of your people. he’ll be at the gibson amphitheater in a couple weeks. the good tickets are $225 a piece. what a crock of shit. i guess it pays to be enlightened.
here’s how you can tell if a leader is actually doing his job for the people.
they kill him.
if he’s still alive he’s probably part of the problem.
Crying ass men!!!
I was watching American Idol last night as i do most tuesdays and i couldn’t get over how many grown ass men i had to see crying on there. all because they got a bit of bad news. what the fuck is this, people?!!! when did we become a whole country of fat assed, crying, little bitches?
look i’m all for crying and being in touch with your feelings. a shrink once told me, “jude, you have a wide range of emotions that most men can’t access.”
i said, “thank you for noticing.”
sure i cry, for joy, or if someone i know dies, or over a broken heart. i may even go walk in the rain and weep silently to myself. but motherfucker you ain’t gonna catch me on prime-time TV sobbing because i didn’t get a job. come on man. really? you acting straight bitch right now. harden the fuck up.
i know this is a creative outlet for single black moms all across america, but nobody wants to hear about your punk ass baby daddy or your incense, candle wax, thrust, thrust, thrusting sex poems.
and how come damn near every poem gotta have that same tired ass staccato delivery? Run-ning and jump-ping and skip-ping
why don’t you take the licorice root your chewing on and that egyptian musk you got stickin out of your dreads, shove ‘em up your ass and then go fuck off somewhere.
shout to saul williams i fuck with him but that’s about it.
how come none of my dates end with piggy back rides?
i’m so tired of hanging out with women i’m not interested in, listening to their boring ass conversations, just so i can fuck. can’t we just skip dating and jump to “hey, we’re both adults here, we both know where this is gonna lead, nowhere, so let’s just be cool and fuck.”
ladies here’s a news flash. i’m sitting here all broken hearted, i don’t want a girlfriend right now. i would like to smash every now and then. but i barely do it because i don’t wanna be bothered with these little bullshit charades. so what do i do instead? i go play backgammon with james. thanks come again.
People who say “Fuck My Life”!!!!!
i don’t know what i hate more, shitty on purpose cardboard art or Fuck My Life. we’ll go with FML. i’m a strong believer in words being powerful and all that jazz, so this little phrase right here irks the shit out of me. your life is really that bad, that you’re fuckin it? man a year ago it was a god damned fml epidemic, it’s chilled out a bit but i still gotta see it all the god damned time on twitter….
"oh they’re out of split pea soup today, fml"
"just missed my fave song on the radio, fml"
"fml, my dog pooped on the carpet."
really, fuck your life, really? you got it that bad, go fucking kill yourself. if not shut the fuck up and stop employing that weak ass little catch phrase.
it’s been 9 fuckin’ years since those buildings went down and still nothing? not a skyscraper? not a park? not a strip mall? just one big fuckin hole in the ground?
come to new york, visit ground zero, look at the fucking hole in the ground. they’ve cheapened the death of americans by turning it into a tourist attraction.
they’ll leave that hole there as an open wound, a reminder, to justify our bullshit wars we’ve been fighting for damn near a decade.
watch out, we’re at terror alert orange…
Motherfucker’s Famous for Being Famous for Being Famous!!!!
if religion is the opiate of the masses, then celebrity is a new religion.
yeah i know kim’s got a fat ass and big breasts and a pretty face, but really what is she known for? she’s just a little rich girl who Sucked Ray J’s dick. and what the fuck is Ray J known for? being Brandy’s brother. and what the fuck is Brandy known for? being good in the 90’s.
So we got a chick getting famous for blowing some talentless asshole, who’s known only because he’s related to a chick who peaked in the 90’s. and that made the news. and they got a tv show for that. and you watch it. fuck you…..
cuz i cant stand when……
Dumb people watch shows they ought not watch!!!!!
look, i know that all these reality shows are popular and entertaining as hell. it’s like watching one giant car wreck and suddenly you can feel better about your pathetic existence. but they’re not for everybody. only the smart people are allowed to watch this trash. you dumb motherfuckers out there can’t afford to watch it! you don’t have those brain cells to burn. you need to focus on bettering yourselves. crack a book, turn it to pbs, watch nova. because real house wives is just making you dumber than you already are and we can’t have that.
People who personify their pets!!!!
Really, with the fucking people clothes on animals? gimme a fucking break. take a look at the dog above me. he’s cute right? cute in a, “i want to kill myself, you’ve robbed me of what little dignity i had” sort of way.
at one time dogs ran wild, now they’ve been domesticated and bred and cross bred. now we got little bitch ass breeds like the one above me who can hardly breath straight cuz they’ve been fucked with so much. talk about animal cruelty.
oh and another thing i don’t need to see pics of your pets. there are tons of things that bring joy to my life, but i don’t feel the need to put them on my phone and show them off to people who don’t care.
the other day, my homegirl showed me her cat she had set as her home screen pic. i told her, “that’s nice but why don’t you work on nurturing a relationship with a real live person and put them on your home screen instead.”
she told me to fuck off.
ok i’m done. i leave you with a picture of me from a time when i wasn’t so grumpy. don’t worry about jude, no no no. i feel better already.
look at the girl above me. when did frumpy drunk chicks with bad haircuts in yellow bandannas become fashionable? really bitch? have some fucking pride. fuck you and fuck your punk ass dog and your expensive ass beer and the grass upon which you lay!!!
everyday it’s a battle, everyday. do i jerk off or do i write something magical on this blog. well magic wins again and my penis weeps.
my homegirl was trying to decide if she was gonna fuck this dude for a second time. she fucked him a few months ago. and then he turned into a dick. the dude, is some failed ass, indian with the dot, wanna be pop star. i guess he writes shitty little songs and has two first names like Jason Alexander or someshit. how fucking pretentious is that? two first names and that’s how you introduce yourself? talk about a dip-shit.
so once they fucked, he started acting all weird. he’d invite her to parties and ignore her. he took her on a half hour date to Hooters. Hooters people. and the date, was a half hour, a half hour because he was busy. busy being an out of work pop singer. that was the end of it.
which brings us to this saturday, i’m sitting around with the ladies sipping cognac, listening to my home-girl entertain the idea of banging this dude once again. first i was all for it, then i was reminded of all the bullshit he pulled and found out he had the two first names and i was like, fuck that dude.
i say to her, “why you wanna fuck this non-singing motherfucking lame again?”
she says, “because he was good in bed.”
i say, “it ain’t that hard to be good in bed, go get you some new dick. this guy’s a douche bag.”
then she hits me with the, “i kinda want to keep my numbers down.”
i’m like, “your numbers down? how archaic is that?”
then she said some other shit and i didn’t really listen cuz i was so pleased with myself for dropping the word “archaic” on her.
but here’s the point. my homegirl is willing to fuck again, some no-talent, dick-hole, who dogged her once already, just to keep the number of men she slept with down. what the fuck kind of sense does that make?! none! that seems counterproductive as hell to me.
look ladies, we’re ten years deep into the new millennium now. who cares how many sex partners you’ve had. real talk, it’s not like you’re gonna tell the truth about it anyway. so go ahead and bang as many guys as you want to, we’re all adults here.
my thing is, maybe you should sleep with men who actually RESPECT you. and maybe just maybe you could fuck a dude, who’s about some shit. let’s take this hindu pop singer Jason Anthony for example. what if she got pregnant by him and had a baby. she’s gonna end up with a baby daddy who don’t treat her right and a talentless fuck for a child. you gotta watch out the lameness gene can be passed down.
furthermore, girls got some shit where if you bang a dude enough, hormones and chemicals are released and you actually end up liking the dip-shit. you can actually fuck your way into liking a lame. you have to be careful with that.
so don’t focus on the numbers here ladies, focus on the quality of dick. i’d rather see you fuck 25 jet fighter, scientists, with hearts of gold, than just one out of work, self involved, musician. and if you do smash one don’t beat yourself up over it, just don’t go back for seconds. yuck.
alright you motherfuckers!!! man i haven’t felt like writing lately, but that’s ok because i got other dope shit for you to enjoy.
"what dope shit is that jude?"
"this dope shit right here."
the audio posted above me is from yesterday’s show. i do this shit called Rev Jude’s Confessions. i went to this web site a year ago filled out a quick little form and became a minister. poof! i’m a man of god. anyone can do it. i guess that’s all you need is some paper work to be holy. anyway, yeah, i’m ordained, i’m the shit. i can actually legally marry people in some states. scary right?
what i do with my ministry on the show is, take calls and listen to people confess their sins, then i absolve them of their sins. it’s just my little way of giving back to the peasants that don’t have a direct line to god.
the break before i had been teasing for calls. talking reckless, using jesus’s name in vain, well this lady took exception to it and called. click play above and listen to the call.
here’s my space inspired mix, i threw on some favorites and some songs that were new to me. some of the songs you may have to give a couple listens to to really appreciate them, like the notwist for example. me, i been bumpin that saturn nights a lot. enjoy.
1. sufjan stevens - concerning the ufo sighting near highland, illinois
2. spiritualized - ladies and gentlemen we are floating through space
3. modest mouse - 3rd planet
4. beastie boys - intergalactic
5. esg - ufo
6. cybotron - cosmic cars
7. binary star - slang blade
8. outkast - atliens
9. adam ant - apollo 9
10. t-rex - cosmic dancer
11. america - saturn nights
12. kraftwerk - spacelab
13. the notwist - the incredible change of our alien
this shit was posted on the gossip site, thedirty.com the other day.
THE DIRTY ARMY: Nik this is RUDE JUDE he is most famous for his days on the 90’s talk show Jenny Jones as a loud mouth trash talker. Now he is on Sirius XM as a radio host and the guy really really really thinks he is black, he talks blacker and acts more black than even Jay-Z. The guy even parties in black clubs in LA. Nik is there anything we can do to help this guy realize he is white?
No, stay you Rude Jude. I love white black people… they fascinate me. Especially the Irish ones from Alaska.- nik
Thanks Nik, i’ma stay me. and i’m half italian with a touch of irish for the record.
i got a twit from a listener talking bout, “you on thedirty.com.”
i didn’t know what it was, so i looked it up. i’m like sweet, this site gets traffic, that’s a good look. then i see the message and what it’s for.
i just shake my head. do i really gotta look at little bullshit emails like this still? after all these years? i remember when i first started doing jenny jones i’d get messages like this from lames every now and then. it was usually from a sheltered douche-bag fuck, who couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that every white person didn’t grow up the same way he did, so he’s not gonna act the same way as him.
you can tell by the structure of the letter the dude ain’t too bright but it still irritated me. whatever bitch. keep talking about me.
look, i know i’m not black nor do i wish to be black. last time i checked, they don’t got it that easy. being white’s a cake walk, i think i’ll stick with that. Just because i speak a certain way doesn’t mean i think i’m black or tough or anything. i’m just judey, lemme be judey.
i spoke on this yesterday on the air and got a call from, Evil from Mississippi, listing some of my “black” traits and “white” traits. i thought it was pretty funny so i compiled the list and added some of my own. once you see the traits i’m sure you will be overwhelmed by my whiteness and this topic will be moot once and for all.
first myblack traits….
I DRANK MALT LIQUOR!!!!!!
sure, i came up drinking malt liquor…. but who didn’t?!!
I GOT BAD CREDIT!!!!!!
my credit score is in the single digits and i still owe money to sprint from 10 years ago!
MY FULL LIPS!!!!!!
sure, i got full lips, but not “Black People Full”!!
I EAT GRITS!!!!
I was raised on them shits!!! and cream-o-wheat too!!! thanks mom!!!
THE POLICE BEAT ME UP!!!!!
the police maced me, whooped the shit out of me, locked me up and got away with it. fucking pigs!! the irony, the cops who did it, were mexican and black!!!
I LOVE GATORS!!!!
one of these days i’ll get the money up to buy a pair!! until then, it’s Allen Edmonds all day baby!!
MY DAD’S A FUCK UP!!!!
this guy hasn’t kept a job for more than 6 months. ever, for as long as i’ve known him!!
I HAD A BABY BY A BLACK GIRL!!!!!
yeah, and? anybody could do that! just don’t pull out when you nut!
p.s. my daughter is a bright and wonderful young lady and i love her very much.
I HARBOR A HEALTHY DISTRUST OF THE MAN!!!!!
i don’t trust the government, it actually borders on paranoia!!!
I SALT MY WATERMELON!!!!
but is that really a black thing?!!
I DIG THICK WOMEN!!!!
sometimes when i see a corny ass white dude with a girl who’s got a fat ass, i get mad, cuz i know he don’t appreciate that shit and he’s not hitting it right!!! he’s probably trying to get her to lose weight, tellin her to skip desert!! Fuck that get seconds girl!!
I PRONOUNCE AMBULANCE AM-BU-LANCE!!!!
I LIKE JEFFERY OSBORNE!!!
a baby woo woo woo!!! a woo woo woo!!!! you should be mine!!
AND I WILL FUCK YOU UP IN SPADES!!!!
me and mail used to run motherfuckers off the table!!! I play dominoes too but i’m not as good!! rise and fly baby, rise and fly!!
ok, so those are the “black” traits, 14 of them, that’s it. based on my “BLACK” traits Does that make me black? no. does that make me think i’m black? no. you know what makes a person black? having black parents. it doesn’t matter how the fuck they act. my parents, they’re white. that makes me white as the day is long motherfuckers and i’m gonna prove it to you.
NOW BASK IN MY WHITENESS!!!!!! HERE ARE MY WHITE TRAITS!!!
I LOVE WHEAT GERM!!!
I put it on yogurt and fuck it up bad!!!
I LIKE WHEAT GRASS!!!!
Juice it and drink it, it tastes like the lawn! And it’s good for you!!!
I LIVED ON A COMMUNE!!!!
i stayed there till my dad hit someone’s kid and they kicked us out!! That’s me in the hat!!!
I GOT A LITTLE DICK!!!!
Don’t worry!!! I won’t hurt you!!!
I HAVE NO ASS
I lost my ass years ago!!
I DIDN’T VOTE FOR OBAMA!!!
Fuck that dude!! i don’t care if he’s black!! he’s still a politician!! You really trust his ass?!! how’s that “HOPE” working out for you?!!!
I CUSSED IN FRONT OF MY PARENTS!!!!!
my friends used to bug the fuck out when i said, “bug the fuck out” in front of my mom!!! and she ain’t do shit!!! you know why? cuz she’s a hippie and….
I DIDN’T GET WHOOPINGS!!!!
and i turned out alright, didn’t i?!!!
I DON’T UNDERSTAND BLACK THINGS!!!!
i want to, but i just can’t wrap my head around them!!!!
I’M NOT RELIGIOUS!!!
Fuck religion in the face!! Jesus never existed!! Keep giving them your 10% tithe dick heads!!
ps if god helps you be a better person then good on you sir good on you :)
I CAN’T KEEP A BEAT!!!!
god knows how i work in music, i can’t keep time for shit!!! yeah i stay on beat for a minute, then i start thinking of other shit and lose it!!!!!!
I CALL TOILET PAPER, TOILET PAPER AND NOT TOILET TISSUE!!!!
Sometimes i even call it T.P.!!! no I don’t, I just needed something to write down here!!!
I SHROOM IN THE WILDERNESS!!!!
i’ll trip balls in the desert, on a mountain or in the forest!!!!! one time i dosed myself and walked through the woods buck naked in tennis shoes!!! ask sonya, she’ll tell you!!!
I TIP WELL!!!!!
most the time it’s 20% and up!!! unless you suck then i’ll stiff ya and tell you about yourself bitch!!!!
I SMELL LIKE WET DOG!!!!!
if i go a few days without showering, i get the wet dog smell!!!! It starts with my feet and works it’s way up!!! while we’re talking smells…..
I NEVER WORE JOOP!!!!
it smells fine and all, but it was always a little too sweet for my tastes!!! It’s like wearing syrup!! I was on that Carolina Herrera!!!
I GOT LOW BLOOD PRESSURE!!!!
because i eat like a little girl!!!!
I BUMP NPR!!!!!
i fuck wit ira glass!! i listen to click and clack. terry gross is the shit!!! and i like All Things Considered!!!
AND….. I OWN A CAR YET RIDE A BIKE TO WORK!!!
my license is not suspended, i actually do this shit on purpose!! And I even wear a purple helmet!!!!
Come on people!!!! How fucking white am I? How fucking white was that?!!!!
so somebody should tell that motherless fuck, shit-hook, son of a bitch writing into thedirty.com a thing or two. handle my light weight, handle my white weight.
i ain’t even mad no more. aight chall i’m out this bitch.