Nobody Gets Out Alive

We live in a dangerous country. Would it surprise you to learn that the United States has a whopping 100% mortality rate? And it’s projected to remain the same for the foreseeable future. Sad!

According to anecdotes relayed by the President of the United States on national television this week, the scariest source of our countrymen’s fate is undocumented immigrants. From what I can glean from memes posted by racist senior citizens on “the Facebook,” more Americans are killed by immigrants than by every other cause of death combined.

Okay, that seems unlikely, I’ll admit it. But when has your Aunt Gertrude, an angry 80-year-old woman who hasn’t worked outside the home nor left her Midwestern hometown in the last 20 years, ever steered us wrong? Remember 9/11? Well, Gertie said on 9/12 that she’d “always been suspicious of the Moslems,” and I’ll be damned if she didn’t hit the mark with that shotgun spray of post-hoc accusation.

This just in: Aunt Gertrude never said anything about it at the time, but she never liked that guy you just broke up with, either.

Given our President’s inference that we should fear people from other countries, I decided to investigate all of the ways that people in our country find themselves taking long naps on the underside of the terrain. Imagine my confusion when I discovered that, at best guess, only 456 people per year die at the hands of undocumented immigrants!

Now before you go saying, “any murder is a tragedy, and the murderers shouldn’t have even been here!” keep in mind that the overall number of homicides in the US is about 18,624 per year. In other words, if you’re going to get whacked, you’re 40 times more likely to get whacked by a fellow American. That’s why I avoid each of you at all costs, just to be safe. USA! USA!

I was also shocked to learn how many ways to die are more common than “gittin’ kilt by a got-dang furriner whilst on mah way down to the Piggleh Wiggleh.”

And because I cherry picked the hell out of this list for maximum shock value, you should prepare to be shocked, too!

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Bad Stuff Is Probably Happening Somewhere

Bad stuff happens everywhere. I don’t mean “bad stuff” like getting in a fender bender. Or even really bad stuff like your Internet crapping out in the middle of streaming your seventh consecutive episode of This Is How To Get Away With A Million Little Scandals With The Stars: Miami.

No, I’m talking about Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse-level bad stuff. Continue reading

Time To Grow Up, Boys

I’m noticing a lot of surface-level, clichéd “masculinity” being bandied about lately.

Maybe our current polarizing political climate is to blame. Perhaps it’s just because I’ve been more attuned to it recently.

Or maybe it’s because “everyone these days are weak little momma’s boys who need a swift steel-toed work boot to the rear end,” according to one angry dude’s comment on my Twitter feed.

 Whatever it is, it’s time for real men to defend real masculinity against those who would seek to define it by its most stereotypical tropes. And we shall defend it with BRUTE FORCE! *adjusts crotch and spits on the ground.

Damn, no, scratch that. Sorry. Continue reading

6 Lies About Immigrants Trump Hopes You Believe

As a native citizen of this great land, I’m entitled to certain inalienable rights. Everyone’s saying I was endowed with those rights by my Creator. It’s tremendous. Just fantastic, really.

While I have more Native American DNA than most US Senators, I’m only “native” to this land by virtue of the fact that I was born here. There is no doubt as to my citizenship status: I was born at a very young age in Houston, Texas, USA, in 1976, to two native-born American citizens. Continue reading

Sorry, you are who you vote for.

People don’t come right out and say, “I voted for Donald Trump because he’s a racist, a xenophobic ass, and a misogynist.” But people likewise aren’t supporting Donald Trump because of the nonsense reasons they give.

Instead, they tell us that they appreciate how he tells it like it is (just like drunk Uncle Billy at Thanksgiving dinner, who is a limitless font of familial harmony).

They say he’s a breath of fresh air after eight awful years under Obama (back when a Muslim from Kenya imposed Sharia law on us while seizing our guns and physically shifting the White House off of its foundation so it could face Mecca. Thank God that’s over, that burka was getting hot, am I right?). Continue reading

No Rules For Dating My Non-Existent Teen Daughter.

Let me preface what I’m about to write with a caveat: I don’t have a daughter. I don’t have children at all. At least not human children. I have a four-legged permatoddler (dog) named Lemmy. But you’ll be relieved to know that there are no little Rickeys running around, and for that, you should all take a moment to thank the deity of your choice.

Caveat issued. Now onto the part that will piss some of you off.

Hey dads with daughters, I’d like to bend your ear for a second. Continue reading