

Henry Rollins meets Hall and Oates. KKK orgy. Masturbate orgy. Reach-arounds galore.

Both of these mental defective media whore turds have books out right now. Both stinking tomes are equally vapid and shrill and paranoid. And are Just perfect for the scalpel of norelpref.

Long suffering from an intractable caulk sucking addiction, developed when working for his pedophile carpenter father as a child, Fucktard Supreme S. Anderson couldn’t get enough of that phallic shaped electronically charged taser baton and reportedly pleaded peace officers to, quote, “DO tase me, bro! Please!” Ossifers were only too willing to oblige, ramming the pulsing zap-stick up Anderson’s rectum repeatedly, with “extreme prejudice,” with which village idiot Anderson is quite familiar. The membot later posted a video on YouJizz where he wanked for eight minutes (verbally, that is) about how he was “wronged” by the bored error patrol. The video reportedly got no hits and was yanked (the only thing that got yanked) off of the esteemed stroke site within eight minutes of it’s posting. Only one person submitted a comment, which read, “I prayed for your death, but it didn’t work, I guess because I’m an atheist.”

The Strange Life of Nikola Tesla, Chapters Five and Six completed. Read by Gordon Fynes and norelpref, respectively.
Just a note: the clip “Awkward,” below is decidedly NSFW. Of course, very few NP clips are ever SFW. Or any venue.


The usual unusual concatenation of bozos, membots and media whores all cut up and reassembled, along with some guitar oriented musical bits here and there. Lotta fundies skewered in this one.

Old Beelzebub be catching them Z’s. With no help from Ambien, or St. John’s Wort, or the ever pungent, fecal smelling Valerian Root. The repetitive shenanigans of the mildly mendacious membots of terra firma move him not. With the only real sin being that of stupidity, Old Nick rests assured, since the world is awash in it.
Make another “Omen” remake. He loves that. Or how about another sermon on the “prince of darkness,” or where ye spout, “satan is the god of this present world!” Shit. Or better still, another Dan Brown novel on the dubiousness of catholic history, a real spiritual, poppy potboiler that Ron Howard can make into yet another mediocre movie.
To paraphrase Malcolm X, or, rather, to mangle his words, “What did Satan do, oh mere Christians and Muslims and Festivus Devotees, what did he do, to make you as stupid as you are right now?”
One of the worst of the clownish membots out there is Brannon House. Now this sorry, absurd dickweed is a very sick man. If he were to go into any mental hospital and begin ranting like he does on his laughable radio show, he’d be summarily committed to the asylum. Right now there are schizophrenics locked up who have a better shtick than he does. Perhaps they need their own radio show. Why not? Along with anti-psychotic meds, it could be therapeutic.
And here lies the raison d’etre for Mr. House’s constant railing against psychology: his deep fear of being locked up, straight-jacketed, loony binned. Sadly, Mr. House seems to have a loony, mouthbreather following. To quote Ozzy Osbourne, “People think he’s crazy, but he’s in demand.” Yep. Well MJ was crazy as an outhouse rat too. But that, for another time, or not.
