I realized today, as I scrolled past a barrage of Drudgereport headlines reading “Massive Waves of Rockets Strike Northern Israel” and “300 Killed, 1,000 Wounded” and “Iranian Missile Surprises Washington,” only to click on "Man Catches Fish with Human-Like Teeth," that I don’t really care. I Really don’t have anything else to say, mainly because I don’t care enough to say it. That fact of the matter is, if you’re foreign, I don’t care about you. If you’re from a different state, I don’t care about you. If you’re from a different neighborhood, I don’t care about you. And if I don’t know you, I don’t care about you either, unless I can make money off you someday. Pretty much if everyone on earth was killed except my friends, all women from Miami, some guys who know how to make beer, all the puppies of the world, my acquaintances down at the Asian massage parlor, and their illegitimate young Asian sons, I would be fine.

And just to stir things up in the middle east, here is a picture of the Profit Muhammed:

I just read Bill Simmon’s article about choosing a soccer team, and I don’t want to sound like a queer or noth’n, but “Arsenal” is a pretty cool name. And even though soccer it a cute little gay sport for prancing fairies, how cool would it be if your team was called the Arsenal? Not only does it make mere Bullets sound one-dimensional and pathetic, but it also sounds like “Arse,” which is British for “Anus.” So eat that Abe Pollen’s and your stupid name choosing wife.. and whoever drew up the Wizards logo. In fact, I am more pissed off about the Wizards name and crappy logo than I care about the 50 children murdered everyday by some evil psychotic primitive murderous barbarian seriously fucked up in the head Arab who thinks paradise is a suicide bomb away.

As many of you know, I took a lengthy hiatus from drinking. People would come up to me and say “Sir Nasty, you’ve lost your edge since you quit drinking” and “your writing sucks” and “kill yourself.” So I decided, for the dozen of you who read this blog and the thousands of others that probably read it as well and hate me, that I would start drinking again. While I hoped this would inspire my writing, all that has resulted is bad gas and malaise. Oh yeah, and a [pending] job [offer].

Yes friends, I am being flown to ____ city to attend ____’s annual meeting. Soon I will probably be trying to sell you life insurance. Now let me in fill you in a little knowledge those of us in the business usually keep to ourselves- some of the wealthiest people in the world have made their fortunes from cashing in on life insurance policies! Here’s how it works:

Before you get too old and your wife gets ovarian cancer and your prostate has to get amputated, buy a bunch of life policies on your wife- make sure the payoff is in the millions. While your monthly premiums will be high, you don’t need to worry about this for long. Soon after you’ve got your long term plan together- insured primarily off the life of your wife- take her to our in-house Chinese restaurant. There, our expert chefs will serve your wife poisoned blowfish. It doesn’t matter what she orders, as we all know women can’t tell the difference between a diamond and cubic zirconium, so there’s no way they can tell the difference between fish, chicken, vegetables or meat. Anyway, the poisoned blowfish will quickly paralyze then kill your wife. Just sit there and act horrified. Maybe yell out a “call 911!” The key is to act genuinely surprised and flummoxed. When all is said in done, all you can say is “what they hey? These things happen in Chinese food restaurants” Then explain that is why they all have disclaimers written in Chinese on the menu saying “not responsible if our food causes you to die a slow, painful death.”

So there you have it, all parties are innocent and poor innocent you gets to cash in millions from your wisely bought insurance! As an added bonus, women will be on your grieving penis like it’s a $100 bill. Conversely, if you’re a woman and you want to get rich, you don’t need to have your husband killed, just divorce him and take half. That will at least murder his soul, and we all know destroying a man’s soul is what really makes you women happy.

posted by Sir Nasty Natroneus, Ph.D Orator Excelsior