F*#k Me Pumps

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4 Responses

  1. Marti says:

    Works in Central Oregon !!! lol.
    Takes me back – waaayy back to Sandra Barnhart (sp) and her “stack those heels god damn it” ! Good Stuff.

  2. CJ Alexander says:

    Consider the elephant.

    A noble, stately creature, the adult male elephant in its natural habitat wants for little. He wanders the Serengeti at leisure, eating and sleeping and fucking and playing; grazing where he pleases, bathing where he chooses, even remembering the graveyards of his mighty predecessors, apparently. His powerful, deliberate pace is that of a creature possessed of total self-confidence; he harbors no doubt of his pre-eminent position in the Animal Kingdom.

    The elephant is a gentle behemoth who knows no natural predators. The lion, king of the jungle? Please. Lions give elephants a wide, respectful berth. Lions know better than to try to fuck with elephants.

    Flies, however, do not. Swarms of puny flies carry out suicide runs at the elephant’s hide every single day. They die in countless numbers, these insectile Al Quedas, as they are terminally swatted away with a flippant gesture from the elephant’s ears or tail — a subconscious defense that barely even qualifies as an afterthought. So the insects die by the score; it’s the circle of life, blah blah etc. etc.

    But occasionally one of the enterprising mosquitoes manages to sink its puny little sting-pecker into the pachyderm. What, then, does the elephant do in response to the minor irritant of a bug bite? Does he collapse his massive bulk onto the ground, attempting to squash the offending insect with his overwhelming, multi-ton bulk? Does he wildly flail his weapons of sharpened ivory tusks at the lazily-buzzing cloud of bugs? Does he rear up on his tree-trunk hind legs and let blast an epic roar, in hopes of intimidating the tiny winged menace?

    Of course not. These actions would all be fundamentally stupid, pointless, and — most crucially — disproportionate responses. It’s a fucking elephant and a fucking bug. The elephant isn’t grievously wounded; he barely notices the annoyance before it is quashed in the due course of nature.

    And yet despite this magnificent demonstration by nature — by SCIENCE — of how cause and effect operate in proportionate ways, my friend Andrew revealed tonight that he is SHOCKED that I haven’t chosen to defend myself, here, against his rhetorical buzz-buzz-buzzing and attempted stings. He simply can’t fathom why I wouldn’t respond in kind. And to bolster his point, he offers the observation (in essence) that Silence Means Consent. It’s an ethos that places him squarely on the side of all the raping rapists who have ever raped.

    I forgive Andrew, of course. He is the fly trying to comprehend the totality of an elephant. But while I may forgive, I will never, uh… that thing that elephants don’t do…? Fuck, I lost it. Nevermind. No YOU shut up. Maybe you should stop all the raping.

  1. December 24, 2010

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