Champion of Society

Naming Your Kids Dumb Shit

There is an infinite list of crap that you can do to screw up your kid’s life, most of which you have no control over. However, naming your kid is something you do have control over. So before naming your kid you should consider all the possibilities and then consider the name contenders default nickname’s a.k.a shit your kid could be tormented with.



I never really got why people would name their kid Richard, it’s too easy. As soon as kids are old enough to realize what dick means, you know they’ll be using it against the poor schmuck named Richard. Kids will use anything they can think of against a name, literally. Take the name Mary, it’s a very common name, no one could be made fun of for that. Wrong. As each generation gets older, let’s just say they “mature” a lot faster than you would think. Thought nothing was wrong with Mary, well here’s a little ditty I once heard “Mary, Mary, quite contrary, well the hell is your p*ssy so goddamn hairy?” It is that simple people.


So think long and hard people before you go naming your kid because not only will they have to suffer with it until they can legally change it, but they will resent you even more than they already probably will. Take this dude for example, Mark Ciptak of Tennessee and his wife had already chosen on a nice name for their baby girl, Ava Grace. Apparently that didn’t suit Mr. Ciptak, because after their little bundle of joy was born he decided to name his daughter Sarah McCain Palin.


Mr. Ciptak is quoted as saying “I took one for the cause . . . I can’t give a lot of financial support for the campaign. I do have a sign up in my yard, but I can do very little.” In addition to naming his kid after douche number 1 and douche number 2, it seems as if he never even discussed this with his wife because she still doesn’t believe him. If Mr. Ciptak wanted to name his kid after a terrible political leader, he should have named it Richard Nixon; two birds, one stone, if only it was a boy.

http://www.tricities.com/tri/news/local/article/elizabethton_baby_named_sarah_mccain_palin/14996/

The Intricacies of Public Transportation:
Commonsense , Common Courtesy & Common Douchebagary

By: Lucy Parker

I do not own a car, nor do I have need for one. I live in New York City and it is not only completely unnecessary to own a car, it is just flat out smarter to not own one (unless you have loads of money). I commute daily, along with millions of other people, on the New York subway system. The New York subway system is great, for $81 a month I can go anywhere in the 5 boroughs of New York as much as I want, not to mention my daily work commute.

Like anything else, the subway does have its down sides: it can be dirty, it can be very crowded, there is such a thing as “train traffic” that can hold you underground for what seems an eternity, construction on the system (which can also hold you underground), it’s about as hot as the first rung of hell on the platform during the summer (I suggest you never wear jeans , or any sort of long pants during the summer if you know you are going to go underground at any point to ride the subway. Seriously, I haven’t worn pants since early June.), etc. While these are indeed annoying problems, I would gladly deal with any or all of them if I did not have to deal with the extreme nuisance that is a douchebag commuter. It is my opinion that the most annoying problems, are the people who ride the trains.

This may seem overkill to those who do not live in NYC or have never used its mass transit. But, this is a hot topic of conversation amongst NY public transportation commuters. Not only is it a hot topic but the discussions are often very passionate. The list of grievances against the douchebag commuter can be long or short, depending on who you talk to. Although, I must say that when asking some of my friends about what annoyed them the most about the subway, the conversations were very comical and explicative ridden. The following is diagnosis of only a few of the douchebag symptoms seen on the subway:

Last Seat Syndrome: By far the most coveted spot on the train is the last seat on the end near the door. Not only are you one of the few lucky ones to actually get a seat, it is easy to exit the train when you get to your stop, unlike those pesky seats in the middle where you have to barrel through middle of the train like a running back to exit (I sometimes question if I should even sit in those seats during rush hour). Entering and exiting the train is a delicate dance between commuters that is often fucked up by douchebags, but I’ll get to that later. Recently, however, the coveted last seat has been having a bit of a problem, in the form of someone else’s ass being in your face.


There is a bar that separates the seat from the door area. It’s meant for safety, not someone’s ass. Not only is it gross just to have some strangers bum in your general face area, it messes up the seating arrangements of the passengers sitting near you. No one wants random ass in their face, so they start to lean in the opposite direction, causing a domino effect on those who are seated in that one tiny row. How you sit is tantamount to how the rest of the row is situated.


The Seat Wedger: Within the last couple of years the MTA has been updating the actual trains used. While the new ones have fancy new computerized “the next stop map is . . .” signs, better AC, and a general better aesthetic, I would have to say the best upgrade are that the seats do not have the little ass placement buckets. The old concept was simple, there’s the ass bucket, put your ass in it. However, as the years went on, well let’s just say a lot of people needed two ass buckets to place their one ass in. Meaning, less people get to sit down, or, worse, are crushed by someone wedging their more-than-one-bucket ass into the seat. The size of the people do not change with the non ass bucket trains, it’s just that without them there isn’t a set place where you have to sit, no one likes sitting with a raised indent going up your bum crack. Although, a true seat wedger will seek out even the tiniest of open seat, even if it means they can’t sit back fully. If you can’t sit back fully, that means there is not enough room

(Old Ass Bucket Seats v. New Seats. Yes, those are the real colors)

The Douche Bagger: Probably one of my biggest gripes. I feel that an e-mail I sent to my roommate after one particular morning commute sums this up best, excuse the typos, I was obviously very frustrated :

“ I have decided that people on crowded trains/buses should have some sort of rule about the use of back packs. When the trains is crowded as it is during the morning and evening rush hours, it is an extreme nuisance when someone boards the train with their back packs lodged on their back. They get on, find a spot to stand, and then take everyone else out with their ginormous tumor, which might as well be and adage of their body because for some reason they cannot remove it. Everyone in the near vicinity consequentially suffers.

The person standing directly behind the back pack wearing douche suffers the most. The douche and his adage known as back pack do not even take into consideration that there are other people in their commute, and just stand there, their back pack lodging itself right into the back of fellow commuter. Forcing that fellow commuter to be hunched over forward in front of the ever so blessed persons sitting down. And, then sometimes, the douche finds it necessary to act as if they were a child experiencing the subway for the first time, and look around in amazement at the several advertisements that line the walls of the trains. Moving his giant adage back and forth, almost like a swaying movement. Not only knocking the person directly behind them in the back several times and causing them to be hunched even more over the blessed commuters, but bumping the other people next to them as well. All with out even noticing. Even if they had they probably would have been like "What? What's going on? What did I Do?", the normal response of a douche.

The solution is easy. Almost mind numbingly easy. Take the damn back pack off when boarding the train and place it in between your feel while standing. I have a right mind to start pick pocketing these jackasses when they keep their back packs on their backs bumping into me. The End.”

The “Blast”-ards: A good amount of people listen to their I-pods while on the train. A good amount of people would like to keep their hearing. There are some who do not. They blast their music at ungodly levels so that at least half of the train can hear them listening to Yung Joc (sp?) “It’s goin down” at 8:30 in the morning (btw I still want to know what exactly is going down at the mall?). This is actually pretty commonplace, I have actually had mental debates as to what I would rather hear, southern rap or Daddy Yankee.

The Door Idiots: As mentioned before, it is a delicate dance between commuters when getting on and off the train, if it is done incorrectly, well fuck, it’s just a god damn mess. It should be pretty simple, people both on and waiting to get on, should move to the side and let the people on the train get off first, then the people waiting may then board. Easy, right? Well, without fail someone will a) either stand right in the middle of the doorway and not move b) budge through the door onto the train while people are still getting off, as if they didn’t see the group of people patiently waiting to get on. Then the train announcer comes on and is all polite (and you know they don’t want to be) “Please step aside and let the passengers off first”. I feel that in instances like this the announcer should be able to say whatever they want, call people out, “Hey, dick, in the awkwardly tight emo pants, move the fuck out of the way.”

The Stinker: There is usually always someone on the trains, with the exception of late at night and some of the last stops on the lines, but no matter, please shower and please use deodorant. If you smell I can guarantee you that at least half of the people on the train are suffering in your stank. I really don’t care if you state that you like to be natural, that’s fine, then walk because that is more natural.

(FYI, this is "normal" crowded, I've seen way worse. I'd rather not discuss it)




The Wanker: Oh , where do I even begin? The name is pretty self-explanatory. If you’ve lived in New York for an extended period of time, I would say chances are you have probably seen some dude beating it while on the train. This normally doesn’t happen on very crowded trains, so there are the unfortunate few who have to witness this normally very private act on a public train. Even worse, is when the dude jacking off is looking at you.

What do you say when someone sends you this email?

by barry metropolis

The following email was received by a friend of mine from one of his colleagues. He asked me, "What do you say when someone sends you this email?" Needless to say, I didn't know what to tell him.

Friends,

Below is a letter published in the Richmond Times Dispatch, July 7, 2008, by a former Cuban refugee. (Check it out on their website.) This can be fodder for you to persuade those who are unhappy with our current administration to think twice about voting for Barak Hussein Obama for President. History repeats itself.

Beware Charismatic Men Who Preach 'Change'

Editor, Times-Dispatch:

Each year I get to celebrate Independence Day twice. On June 30 I celebrate my independence day and on July 4 I celebrate America's. This year is special, because it marks the 40th anniversary of my independence.

On June 30, 1968, I escaped Communist Cuba and a few months later I was in the United States to stay. That I happened to arrive in Richmond on Thanksgiving Day is just part of the story, but I digress.

I've thought a lot about the anniversary this year. The election-year rhetoric has made me think a lot about Cuba and what transpired there. In the late 1950s, most Cubans thought Cuba needed a change, and they were right. So when a young leader came along, every Cuban was at least receptive.

When the young leader spoke eloquently and passionately and denounced the old system, the press fell in love with him. They never questioned who his friends were or what he really believed in. When he said he would help the farmers and the poor and bring free medical care and education to all, everyone followed. When he said he would bring justice and equality to all, everyone said "Praise the Lord." And when the young leader said, "I will be for change and I'll bring you change," everyone yelled, "Viva Fidel!"

But nobody asked about the change, so by the time the executioner's guns went silent the people's guns had been taken away. By the time everyone was equal, they were equally poor, hungry, and oppressed. By the time everyone received their free education it was worth nothing. By the time the press noticed, it was too late, because they were now working for him. By the time the change was finally implemented Cuba had been knocked down a couple of notches to Third-World status. By the time the change was over more than a million people had taken to boats, rafts, and inner tubes. You can call those who made it ashore anywhere else in the world the most fortunate Cubans. And now I'm back to the beginning of my story.

Luckily, we would never fall in America for a young leader who promised change without asking, what change? How will you carry it out? What will it cost America?

Would we?

Manuel Alvarez Jr. Sandy Hook.


Hoooh-kay, so, where to begin? First of all, no one cares that you celebrate Independence Day twice, you crap sandwich.

More importantly, how Mr. Alvarez can link these "similarities" to eventual doom for America is unfathomable. I mean, I know he may not have been around this country for 9th grade civics, but we have these three branches of government, a system of checks and balances, and ....uhhh.... what's that last thing? Oh yeah, the goddamn U.S. Constitution. However much abuse, misuse, and sheer ignorance is thrown around Washington and the rest of the country, I still go to bed every night feeling certain that my country will be a representative democracy when I wake up.

After perusing the Richmond Times-Dispatch (actual name of the paper) for a while--mostly the Letters to the Editor section--I realized where all these out-of-touch voters who elect retarded men are coming from. Seriously, put down the Busch Heavy and the Copenhagen Fine Cut and read a newspaper. Our country relies on a well-informed citizenry to function properly. No wonder we're all floating on urinal cake right now.

Mr. Alvarez doesn't piss me off the most, though. He was just voicing his worries because some fear-mongering Virginian legislator is probably whispering those sweet nothings into his ear, so we can't expect him to know any better (even though he should). No, the big asshole in this whole equation is my buddy's colleague. Talk about an awkward position to put everyone on your mass-email list in. Have some fucking consideration! And invoking "Hussein"? What's in a name anyway, you rabble-rousing son of a bitch? Are you going to start hatin' on Muhammad Ali for having an Islamic name? Or are you going to stop bringing your car to Timmy's Tire and Lube because Timothy McVeigh shares the same name? Give me a break...

But if Mr. Alvarez is right... if Barack Obama is elected to our nation's highest power... if he does turn into an oppressive, cigar-puffing dictator... I know where I'm going: