The Daily Dick

Pat Robertson deserves to infected with brain tapeworms. However, I think the worms would just be knockin’ around in his empty-as-fuck skull since it has become quite obvious in the past couple of decades that this man of God has shit for brains.

This ultimate third-rate con-man is now advocating moving to a country that not only allows, but encourages, wife beating: Saudi Arabia.

Why? The good vicar doesn’t believe in divorce and believes that wives should be subservient to their husbands. Oh and he doesn’t like Islam which is all kinds of weird since he doesn’t have a problem telling a Christian American to move to a, um, Muslim country so he can give his wife what-for and then some.

Oh, Grandpa.

The Daily [D]Ick

And this is the icky-est.

I wish some folks would crawl up into their own assholes and die.

Todd Akin is one of those folks.

What was he doing during sex ed in junior high school? Wanking his pud? He’s yet another example of how the wing-nut arm of the Republican party has a bit too much power, influence and not enough intelligence or integrity to run for higher office. The sad thing is, he’ll probably win because this country is filled to the brim with morons.

Of course, he’s walking the remark back– sort of.

What’s even more vomit-inducing is he’s not alone in his beliefs.

If he beats Sen. McCaskill, then we get what we deserve.

Pay it forward? Not. So. Fast.

Pay it forward.

You’ve heard the saying before, and you’ve probably even seen the insipid movie of the same title starring the tone-on-tone Helen Hunt, that kid who saw dead people and someone who eerily resembles Kevin Spacey on a bad day. The basic tenets of the film are do good shit for others and your good deeds will prompt them to go do crap for other folks. And so on. It’s a good message, a scosch cheesy, but worth watching a pock-marked Spacey who’s the love interest of Helen Hunt’s character, become her lover. Talk about a piece of awkward pie. He musta been channelling a jacked-up-with-AIDS Rock Hudson when he had to swap spit with Linda Evans on “Dallas.” Of course, Spacey is healthy, I’m just poking the obvious here.

I get the whole “pay it forward” bit. It makes total sense, and I do help others in as many ways as possible. However, it is easier to do small good deeds than larger ones — such as helping a friend with a story, or passing on a job lead to someone else, taking a friend to the ER — all deeds I’ve done several times minus the quid pro quo expectation.

Until now.

I’m not talking about small favors that are prerequisites for any serious friendship — like feeding my cats, maybe picking up a few things at the store, or buying Russian porn when in Moscow. Those favors are appreciated, natch.

What I find troubling are the folks whose meaty paws are on the pulse of the job scene but refuse to help out those in need. Yeah yeah yeah … I know the economy is in the shitter. I get that. Duh. But, things are getting better. Things are looking up — even in my chosen field of journalism slash communications. What I find even more troubling are the folks I know who just aren’t into helping those of us who are without the great connections. What really chaps my hide is that those folks who refuse to help, got to where they are today with help.

They did. And lots of it.

No way they did it on their own. Doesn’t work that way — even if you are the spawn of a fat, farmer high-falutin’ family or attended a prestigious higher learning institution.

So what’s with the reason behind this miser shit? I’m hoping someone will be brave enough to weigh in and essplain why not helping those who are perfectly capable is so NOT their thang. It’s not like I’m going to contact a contact and demand that they give me a job (so not my style) — I just want a chance to sell myself — in a non-hooor way of course. I promise to keep the nose-picking down to a minimum, and the raunchy jokes at bay. Then, while you’re yammering away sans eye contact about how I might embarrass you or how you don’t help anyone, I’ll do everything in my power to keep from verbally ripping you a new asshole sans lube. Then, post-lashing, I’ll gently remind you that there’s an extremely good chance you’ll be in my shoes someday very soon. And, how I might be as stingy with helping you, as you were with me. Then, I’ll turn off my inner-bitch and realize that I’m all about ‘paying it forward.’

I doubt I could be anything BUT that way. Thank dog.