Bambi and the Big G.

Hello, and welcome back to "What Really Chaffs My Nuts". This go around I'm not gonna rant, but instead I'm going to honor one of the greatest movie monsters of all time: GODZILLA. Natures pay back for the Atomic bomb, the Big G, the Atomic Antique-Godzilla! One of the most iconic movie monsters that was ever created. I mean the dude/it has a star on the Hollywood walk of fame. And so in honor of Godzilla, and the new film I now present the short cartoon "Bambi Meets Godzilla". Enjoy.

Until the next rash,


Lou Ford

FIN

Hello. Welcome to another episode of what really chaffs my nuts. Let us begin.

So, there is this sewage treatment plant in Seattle that has actually started to rent out it property for weddings. Yes, you heard me correctly; a sewage treatment plant can now be rented for weddings. That's great isn't it?  What is the message behind that?  Seriously?  I'll give you a second to contemplate that.  Do so while staring at this image of raw sewage.

So what answer have you?  Well, I don't really have an answer but more of a question. The thing I'm trying to figure out is why a sewage treatment plant?  It's already bad enough that there are Renaissance fair themed weddings, but a place that recycles shit?  Exactly what value do you place on your relationship?  I mean the reception is basically an island surrounded by shit. It's kinda like India.  Well, let me correct myself; India isn't an island.  And from my understanding there are beautiful parts of that country.  Still, go into a city and it's shitty.  I literally mean "shitty".  The only thing missing from the plant is medical waste, curry, and a brothel full under aged Nepalese girls.

What makes it even worse is that the treatment plant is also offering a fully catered kitchen.  Now why would you want to eat food prepared at a sewage treatment plant?  Well, here's a word that might deter you from doing that (eating food prepared at a sewage treatment plant) ; it's Dysentery.  Well that actually more than just a word, it's an infection of the intestine that causes among other things super diarrhea.  Just look it up.  It's pretty nasty.

Something vicious like up above.

Honestly, why would anyone want to have a wedding there?  Anybody got an answer?  Don't get me wrong, I'm not all about the tradition per say, still a wedding is usually about love, and committing to the person who is your best friend.  It's about committing to someone you just can't live without.  The person that possesses your soul no matter how light or dark it may be.  It's not about celebrating that union by uniting in a place that should prove gas masks due to noxious fumes.  The plant promises no foul smells.  Either way do you want to go to a place that comes with secrete ingredient built in to season the food?  It's the same concern you'd have about the state of your food after you've pissed off the wait staff.  In other words we all get concerned when we might have been rude to your waiter/waitress at a restaurant.  Why?  Well, he/she might just spit in your food, or worse.  In that place they've cut out the middle man.  In fact they've cut out the entire production line because every bodies food has it.

Here's another way to look at it; this could be the first true test of your marriage.  That whole part of the vows where you honor, cherish and love in sickness and in health?  Well, that could be your marriage.  See how romantic it is to hold hands while suffering from gross super diarrhea.  When your shitting your brains out so bad that you expect to find your shoes in the bowel, tell me that all those little things will really be of comfort.  That's what will happen when you eat food laden with fecal matter from a large city.  Put simply that's what could happen when you eat fucking food prepared at a  sewage treatment plant.  A little disgusting?  Here are some pictures of cute puppies and kittens. 

Cute aren't they? There is a silver lining though. The plant only charges $2,000 for then entire affair. That means that you can use the rest for the emergency room bill, the couples counseling, and/or the divorce.  I say counseling and/or divorce because one of you is going to have a resentment over the choice of wedding venue.  What else is there to say.  I guess that if you have your wedding reception at a sewage treatment plant you might have to be prepared for the possibility that your marriage, like at the treatment plant which recycles it, may turn to shit.

With that I will leave you. 

Until the next rash,

Lou Ford

FIN

   

Kill Bunny!

Hello, and welcome to another episode of "What Really Chaffs My Nuts".  This time around rather than do a whole long rant I figured I would wish everyone a happy belated Easter, and present to you a short video pertaining to the subject.  So without further ado, enjoy!!!! 

 Until the next rash,



Lou Ford

FIN

Rat Dogs From Hell!

Hello my friends, and welcome to another installment of of What Really Chaffs My Nuts.  To begin here is some recent shit that really chaffs my nuts!

 So let me get this straight, there are packs of feral Chihuahuas roaming the city of Phoenix. Yes the city of Phoenix, the city a shitty college is named after(if you can even call that a college), has vicious, tiny, lap dogs running rampant attacking the heels of all those retirees, methheads, Hispanics, and panhandlers.  That "school" is named University of Phoenix by the way, but let me get back to the point. WOW!  And that's the real issue, the problem? Not the fact that only 26% of the population has a bachelor's degree or higher?  So I guess if you live there you need to learn to manage your expectations.  All that aside, just imagine how something like that would go down. You get up in the morning, and go out to get the paper or something when you feel a sharp pain.  You jump, and turn to look down to see this ugly little dog that's almost cross eyed snarling at you. Trying to shoo the annoying little beast away, he is joined by a pack of other little monsters.  They yap in rampant, choleric rage, nipping at your ankles as if they were fingers holding a treat.  Almost falling down at the sharp pinching pain of the Mexican rat dog's little fangs, you try to kick one of the foul mongrels, only to have him take hold of your slippers.  This in turn causes your to lose you balance and fall.

 The fall results in you chipping your tooth, and spraining your ankle.  As you go in-between holding your mouth, and grasping your leg those little pocket size warriors bit, and shake like the lash of a whip.  Your spouse cries out in terror, the neighbors both gasp in bizarre shock and laugh in hysterics.  And as those chompers with Spanish accents bear down on you with their happy wrath, you'd swear you heard one of them whisper anti-Semitic remarks in your ear.  It's kinda creepy, like the movie Willard.  No, more like Piranha only with cute, yet ugly Mexican pocket rocket dogs.

Oh, and by the way if you've attended a "University" with the name Phoenix in it, and received a degree, it's not really a degree.  That degree is worth about as much as a degree from a school with the word "Tech" in it. It's like a degree from Devry which isn't really a degree, but a certificate for learning how to open a door.  The fact that a city has it's name associated with this level of idiocy is pretty damn sad.  It's a little like fried butter  being associated with rednecks.  It's like an entire tribe being associated with a crude nickname for a vulgar sex act like the Cherokee chin strap.  Look up "Cherokee chin strap" if you want to know, but trust me in the fact that it's not pleasant.  So with that I will leave you.


Until the next rash,


Lou Ford

FIN

Head Trauma: Medical Science Marches On!!!

Hello. Welcome to another episode of "What Really Chaffs My Nuts". I am currently working on another entree; one that is much more serious, and discuses a very important issue. That entree is not finished, so this time I will just present to you to some of the stupid stuff that has been going on.

So, with out further delay, let us begin. Enjoy:

 Do you know how wonderful this is?  This is a discovery that is on the same level as finding your soulmate by shooting them.  What happened to this man could be the answer to many once chronic conditions such as that man's color blindness.  I mean think of how great it could be.  Seriously, just think.  It could be almost like banging out a dent in a car, or playing "Whack A Mole".   There will be no more surgeries, or will the patients have to suffer.  Now when they come down with an illness you can just bop them on the head, and presto chango! YOUR CURED!  You got cataracts; doctor give him THE HAMMER!  You Suffer from migraines?  Hey nurse give em' THE HAMMER!  An ear infection?  Doc prescribe them THE HAMMER!  Isn't that great?  I mean it's even fun to say. Kinda sounds gangsta doesn't it?  THE HAMMER!  Sure it may be a little painful on the patients end, but what's the worst that could happen?  Shit, if your already fucked up what's a little more damage gonna do?  Plus think about how therapeutic it would be for the doctors.  They could let out all their anger on the patients who really get on their nerves all the while curing them.  It would be a perfect way for them to vent the stress they're under.   It's a win-win situation.  And I mean, if it can cure color blindness think about what it could do for Lindsay Lohan,  besides possible rendering her unconscious and dead.  Even Bruce Jenner could benefit from it.  If the procedure turns out to be very similar to hammering out dents, then a doctor could just keep bashing him in the skull until anything about his current physical state changes. What do I mean? Well, have you looked at his face?  It looks like a latex vagina that someone has stretched over their knee, and then somehow hardened it into a disgusting nerve damaged piece of tissue. That's what I mean.  And if it doesn't work, what difference does it make?  How much more harm could you do?  He's married to a damn Kardashian for god sake.

     Here is the next stupid thing.  Did you read it?  A Utah mom spent more than $567 to buy tee shirts from a local mall that she said were promoting pornography to children. The shirts by the way did featured scantily clad models. WOW!  So I guess this is a win-win. The woman gets to fulfill her moral crusade, and the venders at the PacSun store make a killing.  Not bad.  Still though, I got a question if I may?  That question is, is that really the way to go?  Why not help clear out a neighborhood of crack by buying all of the crack from the dealers?   But is that really gonna serve a purpose? The crack dealers are always gonna bring back the crack because, well, either way they're gonna make money.  So, is buying all the shirts from the store, and spending money that could be used to pay a utility bill so you can save your children really worth it?  Isn't that kind of "corruption" something that is in many ways inescapable?  Morals are ideals that you as a parent are supposed to instill in your children when last I checked. But besides that, aren't there other ways to fight back besides emptying out your saving account. Seriously?

With that I'll leave you.

Until the next rash,


Lou Ford

FIN

My Irish Drunken Dad!!!

I just wanted to wish everyone a Happy belated St. Patricks Day. Enjoy:

Until the next rash,


Lou Ford

FIN 

Morgan Freeman: The Voice That Soothes White Privilege.

Hey, do you know what really chaffs my nuts? This, and that by that I mean the Happy Feet Blurb. Actually read them all. I'll start with the Happy Feet one. All the rest will be tied in later.  Read it:

Yeah, that's right penguins needed antidepressants. The penguins at a British zoo couldn't cope with the torrential rain, and so they became depressed. Yup, it turns out Happy feet is Sad feet. As a result they're on Celexa.  Now I know what your thinking. Your thinking that these creatures are built for testical shriveling subzero temperatures because there penguins, right? So what's the problem with a little rain. I mean they got to be wusses for that. But hold on; wouldn't you be sad if Morgan Freeman stopped narrating your life story? I mean it's Morgan Freeman for god sakes.

Morgan Freeman has a voice that's kind, understanding, and empathetic even when its tone is angry. He makes everything seem ok. Seriously, he does.  He comforts everyone.  He narrated "The Shawshank Redemption" and somehow made prison rape seem alright.  Now that in mind there is one thing that I've noticed,  his voice is especially comforting to White People. Why is that?  I've tried to figure it out, and I haven't really figured out a definite answer.  Could it be that he reminds white folks that not all large black men are dangerous?  Does his voice make white men feel safe to have their girlfriends or wives in the presence of his vocals?  And if they become his sweet ass bitches, who cares, it Morgan Freeman.  I mean that man could narrate the massacre of an entire village, the clubbing of baby seals-hell a nuclear holocaust, and white people everywhere would wipe their brows in relief.  Why?  Because how bad could it be?  It's Morgan Freeman.

     That is why I believe that it should be mandatory that all news be reported by Mr. Freeman.  Even if if he just gargles, we'd all feel better about the state of the world.


Now remember how I said that I would tie all those blurbs together, get ready for this. The antidepressant part, when I found out that Samuel L. Jackson wasn't Morgan Freeman,  I too needed antidepressants. See how I tie in that whole Samuel L. Jackson thing for up above. That was the second bulb about how the Los Angeles Anchorman who confused Samuel Jackson with Morgan Freeman.  Shit! The Anchorman had confused Samuel L. Jackson with Laurence Fishburne, not Morgan Freeman.  Still when I found out  Jackson and Fishburne weren't Morgan Freeman, I was devastated. Hence, I needed Antidepressants. See How I combined the antidepressant with the second blurb.  

How could that be? I mean don't they all look ... before I finished that sentence let me just say that this a joke.  In case you haven't noticed I was mocking white people, and their discomfort with other races   aka concealed racism it could be called I guess.  Stereotypes like all Jews being cheap, or  the myth that all prostitutes give black guys group rates.  Get it.  And by the way I know that black people don't all look alike.  Still, when I found out that that neither Jackson nor Fishburne were Morgan Freeman, my heart ached like an arthritic knee before it rains.  His smoothing low tones could seduce a rabid animal.  I mean his eloquence is like that of cherry blossoms gently raining down on me on a cool spring afternoon, tickling my skin. With it's caresses each peddle feels like the gentle touch of a caring lover who wants to give their very soul to me.  The magnificence of his chuckle touches the most inner vulnerable piece of my being until I feel content with every facet of the universe. So you can see my disappointment when I learned that he wasn't every black man I've seen on TV.  See how I tied those to blurbs together? Did you see that?


Now in terns of the of third thing, the Canadian metal band who charged the U.S. government for using their music to torment Guantanamo Bay Detainees, well they did that because they needed money.  They needed money for all the therapy they going to need for the pain they'd feel, for also realizing that not only is Samuel L. Jackson not Morgan Freeman, but Laurence Fishburne isn't either.  The pain, and anger they felt was so huge that they would decided that living on an isolated compound in the middle of nowhere as well as the best drugs that man can buy would be the only thing that would sooth them.  Only they'd find that it was just going to shelter the pain until one of those really cheesy Coke commercials with the arctic animals all being friends came on.  You know the ones were the polar bears are hugging seals and giving big high five's to penguins, then kissing eskimos and shit.  Well that would absolutely drive them bat shit nuts.  So much so that they'd  drive their tour bus in terror into a busy intersection where they'd hallucinate that they had actually run themselves over.  They would then die and go to heaven, and there they'd meet God, who is Morgan Freeman. OMG! I know right?  That is until they'd discover that due to them playing "the devil's music" they were in hell.  Their punishment would be having their worst day alive narrated by that Morgan Freeman.  The thing is that that Morgan Freeman wouldn't have the smooth voice like carmel, but a nasally cross between Fran Drescher and Gilbert Gottfried. Yeah,

   

















that guy above, and her.

 No, that didn't, and probably won't happen.  But if it did wouldn't that be crazy cool?  Right? Seriously though, the one thing I got to say about that last piece is this: HA HA! Hows that for copyright infringement? So much for the Federal Governments laws against pirated material (music, movies ext ...) And I guess it's true, "Piracy really isn't a victimless crime", at least not according to the detainees of Guantanamo Bay.  HA HA!
With that I will let you go.


Until the nest rash.



Lou Ford.

FIN