Thursday, November 17, 2011

F-bombs and stuff

So Putz Martin tweeted some foul language.  There should be some conduct unbecoming of an elected official bylaw I suppose but why give parliament the excuse to commission a gold plated swear jar?

It just shows what we all knew about the pond scum already.  Putz Martin is a classless douchbag, about as smart as a bag of hammers with about half the character.  Nobody is surprised, but we sure like to talk about it.

I learned a long time ago.  Don't put anything in writing you don't want anyone to see.

Back in grade 5 I thought it would be funny to write a juvenile parody of Twas the night before Christmas.  It made me laugh.  My teacher, a very Christian man involved with the Knights of Columbus, did not appreciate my humor at all.  I think we were asked to write a Christmas poem.

Anyway, I got an F and letter home.  The F was for funny as far as I was concerned.  I could care less.

The letter home though was very very unfunny.

My Father never hit me.  Mom would break wooden spoons over my insolent bum.  Dad though used to say "if you ever make me mad enough to hit you, you'll be sorry."  I believed him.  I never crossed that line, but looking back I suppose he didn't either.      

This time though Dad was very upset.  It wasn't about blasphemy or vulgarity or making a farce out of my teacher's holy assignment.  That was Mr. KofC's problem.  It was hard evidence that I was an idiot.  Undeniable.  My Dad made it very clear that I was a stupid idiot fool.  He had the physical proof by my own hand with my own signature.  I could only agree.

I've taken this lesson to heart.  I swear and curse as much as the next guy, but I will never publicly lower myself to writing that's fit only for a bathroom stall.  I'm better than that.  My readers should be proud to admit they've graced my site. (thank you reader)

People like Bill Maher think cussing is some kind of high art.  Making your point as strongly as you feel it without resorting to sexual or excretory ultra cliches is the real challenge.  Common language is common and because its common its opposite of any kind of talent or skill.

Putz Martin's twitter account is nothing but a bathroom stall.  An Occupy bathroom stall provided by hardworking taxpayers to people who would otherwise defecate in the street like animals.  A filthy place, only to be visited if inescapably necessary.  That's Pat Martin, member for Winnipeg Center..  It suits him well.       

4 comments:

The_Iceman said...

I don't really care about F-Bombs on Twitter, but I get annoyed when John Ibbitson blames the tirade on the Tories. Pat Martin lost his cool, and it's the government's fault. That's bogus.

The_Iceman said...

PS: you don't really need that word verification. I took it out and I get no spam. Blogger has a span filter on top of the word verification that catches most spam.

Unknown said...

Me neither really, I just think its an appropriate reflection on who he is and who his followers are. Dirtbags :) I find with fault with the man more than the tweets.

I'll look after the verification thing for you too.

Unknown said...

rackas fracka! They don't make it easy to find. I'll look after it soon.

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