what flavor do you like your cock?

Two major points of annoyance for me this week. First, the Grammy nominations were announced, and as usual, they're an affront to anyone who actually listens to music. The fact that a band like Hoobastank (!) can garner three nods is... well, it very well may be the sign Uncle Jerry has been looking for, the one that brings the four "angry white men" riding in on horseback. On top of the Stank, the academy has told us that these other artists are of artistic merit (see: sold a shit ton of records) Ahem! The Black Eyed Peas, Usher, John Mayer, Maroon 5, Evanescence, Britney Spears, U2, and Nickelback. If that list doesn't make you want to throw up right now, then seek help. I suggest you go here: http://www.youhavebadtasteinmusic.com/ and follow steps one through three right away, if you wish to save yourself.

Now I have to make it over to the goddman post office in order to get my passport. I called them this morning to find out if they had a photo service (so that I wouldn't have to go somewhere else to get those little passport photos taken) and the woman I was talking to, towards the end of our conversation, and let me just stress towards, decided that she was through talking to me and hung up. Hung up! Could it be because they were extemely busy at the post office? No, because they don't have a phone line that goes directly to a location, only a 1-800 number for informational purposes. Could it be that she had other, more pressing matters to attend to right then and there? Perhaps, but I've never seen any postal employee concerned with actually helping a customer before. So what happened? Oh, wait, wait, I think I know. She was a bitch! Just another in the long line of stupid bitches that work for the government. I guess when you have a bitch as stupid as G.W., it takes a lot of work for the common folk to keep up. Now that I think about it, hanging up on me was pretty weak. She should have yelled something like, "put your cock in a blender, you ass raping cat fucker!" Now that would have been what I like to call customer service... Dubya style.