Dawg, I ignore the “actual stated costs” and I’m still a free man. What are they gonna do? Ruin my credit? Jokes on them, I already did that myself.

I think we need to start seriously considering how many of these people are feds. These meeting derailments are like updated versions of the techniques in the Simple Sabotage Field Manual: A 1944 guide to disrupting political meetings by the CIA-precursor, the OSS.

This is a bourgeois interpretation of family dining. Buffets have eradicated the class hierarchy of tiered pricing. The more expensive dishes and the more hungry patrons are subsidized by the collective. Post-revolution, buffets will line the boulevards and countryside.

Ubiquitous Islamophobia has officially made Islam my favorite religion but it’s always the guys with the coolest names that convert and change them. Cassius Clay, Cat Stevens. To be fair, Lou Alcindor is a sick name but Kareem Abdul-Jabbar goes nearly as hard.

I’d like a lot of people to just have more shame in general. The idea of kinkshaming being on the level of other forms of discrimination is pretty funny. “If it makes me cum you have to respect it.”

“Women hold up half the sky.” Actually, ask any woman in my life and they will tell you that they hold up much more than 50% in our relationship. Does that make me a better feminist than Mao? I’ll leave that to future historians to decide.

Conservative men often suffer from a self-fulfilling sexual psychosis: They believe that observing non-traditional styles (like colored hair or piercings) will turn them into insatiable cocksucking zombies. The anger comes from constantly suppressing intrusive cock thoughts.

You ever see something so revolting to your core humanity, ethics and taste, that it takes a second to register what you’re looking at? This guy sucks. How can anyone sit through this sermon without ripping their own dick off and throwing it at him just to make it stop?

I respect that ape. Look at the form with which he throws a barrel. Tight. Powerful. Sensual, even. He has the body of a natural athlete and the smart business casual attire of an entrepreneur taking Midtown by storm. Both beast and business man. Call him Mr. Kong.