Asshat: Nadya Suleman

This will be the first female asshat I've featured, and she's a true winner people. Nadya, known in some circles as Conveyor Belt Naddie, has just given birth to eight children after an apparent in vitro fertilization gangbang.

But no, it doesn't stop there, dear readers; she already has six other children from this procedure, and all of them are under the age of eight. During a recent interview, Naddie's mother described her daughter as having always been "obsessed" with children--well no shit Ma. How about when she played with an Easy Bake Oven? Did she cram that thing so full of dough it developed stretchmarks?

Or did she stuff handfuls of marbles under the dress of Raggedy Anne dolls and exclaim "oooo, pertty, that's for me"?

So here's a woman (who claims to love and adore children), that has fourteen kids, all under the age of eight; she has no apparent income or husband/boyfriend paying support, and she's living in her mothers 1,550-square-foot home, while her father is in Iraq.

Explain something to me Naddie, how the fuck are you going to adequately feed, attend to, and give your "loving" attention to FOURTEEN kids, all within a few years of each other? Most people have enough trouble juggling life around to spend quality time with, and provide for, two children.

But you come along and spit out eight at once, after having another six you can't even care for and feed without a huge amount of help. Where the fuck is your love exactly? Is it for yourself as a breeding machine to fulfill some sick obsession?

Putting aside for the moment the health of the children when giving birth to so many, what are you going to do when just one of them gets sick and needs medical attention? Do you pack up, grabbing all the baby-related supplies needed when traveling, and take all this shit with you, along with fourteen kids, to the ER? How about sleeping, for yourself, as well as them? Did you think that one through?

Jesus-fuckin-christ, lady! I'm tired of feeding, caring for, raising, and supporting people like you (and the kids you spew out), by proxy, with my tax dollars. Life is hard? fine. Things seemingly beyond your control has kept you at the bottom of the ladder? fine again. But what the fuck is the deal with all the kids?

It can't just be a welfare handout situation. Are you dipshits so fucking selfish, callous, and uncaring that you are willing to bring one life after another into this world just so you can buy more hamburgers and CD's? Becoming fatter and more stupid, which in turn I'll have to pay for as well when you have a heart attack or get incarcerated.

You're willing to raise these precious, innocent kids in highly stressful situations, amongst near starvation, with little to no opportunities for education, witnesses to regular violence, etc. etc. You will subject them to all these things, just because you are too fucking lazy and pathetic to work and take responsibility for yourself?

Now perhaps this is not the exact situation in this particular woman's case. She in fact was able to acquire a bachelor of science degree in child and adolescent development and tried to return to pursue a master's in counseling, last attending in the spring of 2008. Doing that with six babies is impressive. But she couldn't have done it without major help from her burned-out mother and others.

Now she has another eight to care for, and reportedly her mom is about done with it all. Hell, the lady is in the downswing of life, has the stress of a husband in Iraq, and now she has to deal with a bunch of screaming kids in her house?

And look at it this way: this one woman, Conveyor Belt Naddie, could completely cripple and drain the resources of one small town. Think of the cost it would take to put fourteen babies into childcare each day as Nadya went to school or work. Think of the medical costs that would have to be covered for each of them, particularly the octuplets. These types of multiple births usually cause a whole list of ailments and poor health.

Then she'll need help to feed them, to clothe them, for diapers, traveling, more babysitting. It would put a small town into bankruptcy. Speaking of which there is a curious aside to this woman's financial situation. Last year, she filed for bankruptcy and claimed nearly $1 million in liabilities. This year, miraculously, she has withdrawn the filing, and payed off the debt.

I have no idea what this could mean; but I find it highly interesting for a woman saddled with six babies at the time, and going to school. At least she seems to be trying to do something constructive with herself by pursuing a higher education. But fucking hell Naddie, you ever heard of going overboard? You need counseling yourself.

And try putting a big cork in that Easy Bake Oven of a cooch you got there, will ya? If not for yourself, then the actual kids and their futures, you fucking In-Vitro-Asshat.

Oblique Perspectives II

Another look at the slanted, odd, and outright weird fucking ads from decades past.

Apparently, "Politically Correct" standards in advertising during the 50's and 60's had not been created yet.

Ahhhh, the good 'ol days of putting any whacked-out concept in print without worrying over whiny pantie-waste dipshits screaming "FAIL!" and then being crucified on 24-Hour News networks.

SMOKING




Take notice Obama, and tell those nosy fuckers to mind their own business when you want to fire one up.



There's a joke here somewhere, but I'm too mesmerized by this hot babes facial...um, I mean all that thick smoke.



This kid may rethink that statement when looped-out mommy uses him as an ashtray.




FEMININE HYGIENE

This ad is so fucking hysterical I'm eating nothing but fish for the next week.



Her husband will not tolerate cottage cheese in the marital bed.



I'm not even sure what the fuck this one is supposed to mean.
Personally, I think if men were shaped more like Tampons, we'd be shoulder deep in the love canal so often, perhaps the human race would be, oh I don't know, warm and fuzzy.



The facial expressions alone make this a true sour-cootchie Noir Classic.
And is it just me, or do these two look similar enough to be siblings?

Allodoxaphobia

Our Weird Phobia entry for today is Allodoxaphobia (fear of opinions), for a couple of reasons.

For one, it's something I seem to notice more and more often in the form of narrow-minded, self-absorbed dickheads insisting their opinion is the only opinion worth considering.

The second reason is a commemoration of sorts to this country's politically crippled President as he prepares to exit the White Door and stumble into the pages of history books. I imagine the sheer volume of Bloggers' posts alone about this President will be staggering, and I have no doubt I'll be adding a few of my own.

However, for here and now, I'm approaching it from the angle of what I see as his pathological tendency of fucking others' opinions straight up the poop shoot, with abandon and glee. A true, dyed-in-the-wool Allodoxaphobe if ever one existed.

An excellent and very revealing article from Vanity Fair chronicles the oral history of the Bush White House from the words of those that were there. While I read through this article one thing became abundantly clear: this man categorically ignored, dismissed, and/or feared any opinion other than his own.

Perhaps the only consistent exception to this stance is when Dick Cheney opened his snarled lips. When Tricky Dick spoke, Bush was like a 2 girls 1 cup lapdog, greedily chomping down every smelly nugget Cheney fed him.

These two remind me of a married couple where the husband (Bush) mistakenly fools himself into believing that he rules the roost. But when it gets down to the nitty-gritty, and a real decision of any import has to be made, the wife (Cheney) lays down the law. Hubby then ends up sleeping on the couch, licking his wounded pride and shrunken ball sack.

Being a true Allodoxaphobe, Bush not only chose to ignore the advice and pleadings of veteran political advisers, he thumbed his nose at them with enough arrogance to give Il Duce a fanatical hard-on from the grave.

Along with this misguided bravado Dubya became blinded by his own swelling ego and sense of entitlement. The leader of the "free world" is some gargantuan shoes to fill, even for the most capable. But those big shoes require an equally expansive worldview and the man lounging behind that Resolute desk for the past eight years simply lacked the capacity.

From many personal accounts Bush is a tenacious fucker that truly believes in his worldview and will fight down and dirty to get what he wants. While this is a bonafide requirement in politics today, G.W. went about it at the expense of the American people, not to mention common sense.

If the opinions of others did not jive with his own, regardless how valid they were, Bush broke them off at the stump. He chose to ignore the pleas, wisdom, and experience of those that had been in the K Street trenches for decades and actually still cared about democracy. Like a strutting rooster, blinded by his own showy feathers, this preening fucktard pissed on anything that got in his way.

This President created his own failed legacy--not soon to be forgotten--any way he could, because that's what Allodoxaphobes do. They fear the very thing that questions their "superiority" and greed, i.e. alternative opinions that did not originate from their own impotent, flawed self-esteem.

Bush is a classic sociopath, driven to prove his worth with overcompensation and blind allegiance to himself, masking that relentless voice whispering in his ear. The one that hisses like Eden's Serpent, promising paradise and the power to stand alone, without regret or consequence.

Freedom of thought is no gift, or attribute, if the only goal is using others to further your agenda at any cost. George Walker Bush, Allodoxaphobe extraordinaire, welcome to the Jungle baby, your exploits have earned you a seat in the annals of Weird Phobia, and Mortuum Flagellas history.

Asshat: Michael G. Waddoups

As a confirmed, unapologetic, and proud imbiber of that sweet ambrosia known as alcohol, our second logical inductee into the Asshat Hall of Fame is the republican senator from Utah, Michael G. Waddoups.

This retarded, clueless, out of touch piece of amphibian shit is so anally retentive he can't stand up without a chair attaching to his gooey snail trail asshole and following him around like a jealous lover.

MG's list of lamebrain atrocities against the American taxpayer has, of all things, now earned him the glorious role of President of the Senate for 2009-2010.

Utah, perhaps unsurprisingly, has the strictest alcohol laws in the country. They are the only state that requires customers to fill out an application and pay a fee for the right to walk into a bar. In essence, they are considered private clubs and must adhere to strict regulations, even though, in theory, they are open to the public.

Already in place is a required-by-law glass partition in restaurants, commonly referred to as a "Zion Curtain". This wall is to separate evil and dreaded bartenders from customers.

God forbid someone actually sees a drink being mixed, or suffer the trauma of a bartender doing their job. They may be so traumatized they'll stagger out and go marry a group of underage girls--and that shit is just wrong. Right, Utah?

But now, to add to this fucking stupid requirement, Waddoups wants to take it further still. This dipshit is pushing to have a physical barrier installed to entirely block the view of any alcohol from restaurant patrons. But even that is not enough for MG; no, he wants to have all bars within restaurants moved into an entirely separate part of the building.

"Restaurants are turning into bars. It's making it look attractive. Kids see it and wonder what they're missing. I think we need to be a little more strict."

A little more strict?! Well for fuck-sake Waddoups, why don't you just get it over with and crucify the sinning fuckers on a cross made from liquor crates and corkscrews out in the back lot. Then you can set them on fire while you stroke off on your starched tie.

If I lived in that state I would lose my goddamn mind, and I don't even like to drink in bars or restaurants. But on those rare occasions I do, I'll be a pope-on-a-rope before I could stand being treated like a pervert for wanting to have a drink.

Fuck you Waddoups! And in the immortal words of AC/DC, "have a drink (of puppy piss) on me" you archaic do-gooder asshat.

Oblique Perspectives

This will be another regular feature here on Mortuum Flagellas. When I originally created this blog it was more or less just for experimenting with a three column blog, and to try out various things on it. Some of it I'm pleased with, other things will inevitably fall to the side and make room for further experiments here.

As more time passes, I can see it steering toward certain categories and fleshing itself out on its own. The general thrust, at this point, seems to be the sometimes idiotic and fuckhead activities and choices that we humans make by design or necessity.

This new feature Oblique Perspectives will focus on the lifestyles and viewpoints from a bygone era--using photos, news clips, advertisements, videos etc.

I've always found the mindset of particular slices in time highly entertaining; especially if something triggers a forgotten memory from my childhood of what it was like "back then".

Battle of the Sexes

If the raised tail is any indication, apparently women of this era went into heat like frisky cats when used as a doormat, or posing stool for Mr. Leggs Slacks:

Here, the audacity of a wife getting flat, stale coffee results in the only sensible reaction. Turn her over your knee and wear that ass out:

I'm assuming this ad is for shoes, or the first blatant marketing campaign aimed at shoe fetishists:

Gayness

I guess "periodic pain" and menstrual cramps were so severe during the confused sexually-oriented 1950's, a medication so potent as to turn a woman gay was called for:



And Rosie O'Donnell thought she was breaking new ground. Ha! In your pug-face beeatch!



The only thing I recall Ovaltine doing for me in the mornings was giving me the shits more reliably than any laxative could hope to. Wait...I had to sorta touch my bunghole every time to wipe! Oh you evil, sneaky Ovaltine fuckers!

Geniophobia

This will be the first installment of Weird Phobias, a brand new feature I'll try and add to regularly (the Category heading can be found in the left column).

The irrational and outright ridiculous things people fear has always entertained me, so I figured I'd share the rather odd phobias I happen to come across in my relentless search for odd shit.

In this segment, we have Geniophobia (fear of chins).



The first question that pops into my mind is this: where and how would this one even come about? Did a double-chinned toad of a aunt smother these people as children with waddling dewlaps while hugging them in various stages of undress?



Or perhaps their gnarly grandfather chased them around a dark basement with a claw hammer and a chin resembling the bloated, angry, stubbly scrotum of an elephantiasis native.



Maybe even a drunken mother, intending to be "fun and youthful" during Halloween left permanent psychological scars.



Whatever the source, Geniophobia has occurred often enough to earn it's own place as a genuine phobia. Then you have to wonder if a Geniophobe freaks out when seeing their own chin in the mirror. And if your a man, do you just go into a psychotic episode at the very thought of shaving?



Then again, perhaps such a phobia began from watching images or characters on TV and movies--kind of a subliminal transference. For instance did Gerald Scarfe, the animator for Pink Floyd The Wall, suffer from this malady, consciously or otherwise, when he created 'The Trial' sequence in the film?



And how about this dude?
I can't remember his name, or what B-movies he's been in, but that chin/face/jaw would freak anybody the hell out.

In conclusion I'll just leave you Geniophobe's with a highly-skilled therapist for your particular ailment:

Giggity, giggity, goo!

A Xmas Colonostomy: from me to you

While I'm away for Xmas and robbing the rich, to give to the wicked, it's time for all of us to step back for a moment and review the year thusly past. We, as a nation have been fucked sideways, inside out and thrown into a pile-driver without so much as a "do ya like it like this? or should I just step on your face to shut you up?".

We'll begin with the "gas crisis", or what I like to call the 'Tormenting A Junkie' routine. We all recall the greasy hand of our drug dealers as they jacked-up the price of our beloved drug: Oil.

And just to make sure we are reminded what desperate junkies we are, Exxon Mobile has just recently released the figures for their quarterly PROFIT; not overall take, but PROFIT, at $14.63 BILLION. This is for ONE goddamn quarter, and it's a branding spank your ass new record. That's a royal, no-lube-ass-jack my friends.

Then, we have the in-your-face bailout. From the most recent report I can find, it breaks down like this, that we know of, so far:

A quick calculation shows that the total bailout is approaching $1.7 - $1.8 trillion dollars. This includes:

-the proposed $700 BILLION to buy "bad debt" from financial institutions so that they don't collapse

-billions and billions to guarantee the principal in money market funds

-the $85 billion dollar loan to AIG

-$87 billion dollars in repayments to JP Morgan

-$200 billion for Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac

-$300 billion for the FHA (Federal Housing Administration)

-$200 billion in outstanding loans from banks who borrowed through from the Fed

The Fed is also committing another $100 billion+ to Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac and spending billions to provide financing for the JPM / Bear Stearns deal.

Two trillion dollars, to put in perspective, is nearly 14% of the USA's annual GDP. That's about $6,500.00 for every man, woman and child in the country. And guess who's ultimately paying for this? Yea, our dumb-asses.

And don't even get me started on the Auto Bailout gangrape. I'll have plenty enough to say about that when the figures are more concrete. However, I will leave you with a dead-on poster that I found over at Kelly's excellent and hilarious blog, Psycho Carnival. Go and visit this dude, he'll have you laughing like a hyena on nitrous oxide.



In closing, and to honor such an unprecedented and thorough colonostomy by the powers that be, I leave this little video below for you--cause now that we see it coming, and what it really is, it'll all be better in 2009, right? Uh huh.

So here's a fist, deep and hard, straight up our governments bulbous, arrogant, shameless ass.

Glory Hole-a-leuia y'all:

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