Seven Deadly Smacks
By Kevin White


• Nothing has pissed me off more recently than these staged ‘protests’ popping up at healthcare reform meetings. Pharmaceutical and medical lobbyists, along with radical right-wing groups, are actually paying people to show up and scream nonsensical rhetoric at the speakers — there to explain/answer questions on the national health care plan to cover EVERYONE. Guess that’s what you have to resort to when you have no real argument against anything. It’s the political equivalent of a kindergartener throwing rocks on the playground.

• These idiots have actually promulgated the idea that this healthcare act is being put in place to kill off the elderly! If that isn’t ignorant enough, now these nutjobs are claiming healthcare reform is, and I quote, “likely to mandate free sex change surgeries.” I could not make this stuff up.

• Run for your lives!! Government-funded, godless heathen doctors are running rampant through the countryside, killing grandfathers, chopping off their penises and sewing them onto unsuspecting grandmothers!

• Man, I’ve got to calm down. This whole thing is gonna get me so angry I’m going to have a freakin’ heart attack. I’ll probably come out of my free quadruple bypass surgery with a pair of 48DD’s and a beautiful new vagina.

• Speaking of bizarre surgeries, I have one last note on Michael Jackson. Did you know his third child, Prince Michael II, is known as Blanket? As if being the son of an unknown surrogate mother and a child-molesting father with bleached skin and no discernable nose won’t be crippling enough for this poor kid. Now he’s gotta go through grade school with the name Blanket. Sounds like the first chapter in my new book, How To Make A Serial Killer.

• I have a ton of respect for bicyclists, okay? People really into cycling are usually elite athletes who do amazing things with their bodies. That said, I ask a small favor from my cycling enthusiast brothers and sisters. Get your skinny, lycra-covered, muscular asses the f*ck outta my way when I’m trying to drive somewhere in rush hour traffic, you cocky, self-absorbed motherf*ckers! You do not own the goddamn road.

• All that aside, what really pisses me off most this month is that I, along with many other Americans before me, got laid off from my day job recently. Know anybody wanting to hire an ideologically displaced, misanthropic wordsmith with a slightly twisted sense of humor? I type really fast. [And he’s a helluva graphic artist — Linda]