Sorry I haven’t updated in awhile, I was off for two weeks hanging out in the Caribbean enjoying a long over due vacation. I over indulged a bit on an all inclusive, and before those of you who would criticize me for some imaginary hypocrisy, trust me when I say I have covered those bases. I donate plenty to off set the damage (social, environmental, or otherwise) that I might have done. I may feel relaxed as all fuck, but my mind is sharp as ever. You got nothing on me teabaggers. Nothing.

These two dykes will soon be very disappointed when they learn that Sandals refuses to accomodate the abomination that is their love.

It was a fantastic trip thanks for asking. All you can eat, drink, play with the woman of my dreams. It really couldn’t have been better. The staff at Excellence in Punta Cana was so unbelievable. I truly did not have enough money to tip everyone, and EVERY ONE of them deserved tips. They are patient, accommodating, and do their job with so much pride it made me fucking proud, and I don’t have a vested interest in that company. Excellence Resorts are truly beyond compare and are a fuck ton better than that homophobic shit sty of a corporation called Sandals. Fuck Sandals resorts. Did you know they have a strict anti-homosexual policy? They are so vehemently anti-gay that no same sex couples are allowed to book rooms together. When I say no same sex couples, I mean NO SAME SEX COUPLES, not even mother and daughter or father and son combinations. How’s that for blind devotion to a horrible set of “values”? Pathetic. Fuck Sandals. If you have any sort of social decency or conscience you will NEVER support that company. If you do, then fuck you too.

"What the hell you mean I can't come in? This is my best hat. Speak American god dammit!"

So I went on this trip to get away from this teatarded country of ours for a bit, hoping to be able to forget about it if only for a few days out of the many. I did, but not necessarily as much as I’d hoped. Why you’re asking? Because Americans are parasites. They are every fucking where, barking their ridiculous demands while wearing their Harley or NASTARD or other shirts adorned with fantastically redneck phrases. This resort is more European than most, but apparently not during the fall months. Sigh. So at this resort, there was an exclusive club for upgraded members. There was a dress code which I adhered to because 1) it’s fun to dress nice 2) I respect those who offer incredible services and 3) I have fucking class in public… tons of it. The very first night there, guess what we saw? A fat fuck wrapped in nothing but a towel to at least ensure the world was spared the eye gouging sight of his junk. Guess where he was from? Yuppers… the U.S. I was so embarrassed because teabaggers like that thing (it was a teabagger, have no doubt) are the reason the fucking world hates us. I know teabaggers don’t care, but I fucking do… and so do a lot of other decent Americans. It gets better though. A couple days later I saw this same asshole in the same classy club walk in with one of the aforementioned tee shirts listed above. On it was a picture of a cat and another of a rooster. In between hung a phrase of such incredible class and social dominance that I am afraid to post it here for the sheer change in social status that could result. Okay, I’ll tell you anyway. It said: I think your pussy should play with my cock. I couldn’t make this shit up if I wanted to people. Fucking Americans. Fucking teabaggers. It WAS a teabagger.

This stealthy photograph taken mid conversation is of a teabagger from Pennsylvania sharing his opinions on family, politics, and race during my trip to Punta Cana, DR.

Another night my wife and I were out for drinks waiting to go to dinner and we ran into this couple from Pennsylvania. One look at this guy and I knew where he stood on the political spectrum… squishy, sagging, teabagging right. I refrained from the easy attack on Rick “ass drainage” Santorum, but of course this guy’s vile opinions took about 3 seconds to surface anyway. Interspersed within sound bytes of guns and small government came his far from subtle misogyny and racism. This ass bag actually turned to my wife and out of the blue asked, “So are you a stay at home mom?” What the fuck? Not, “So what do you do?” Seriously? Who asks the question of “what do you do for a living” like that? Oh, right redneck conservatives from the US, that’s who. In that instance I actually kinda wish my progressive wife wasn’t so calm and level headed. I wish she had thundered down upon him like the hammer of fucking Thor splitting his thick, Cro-magnon skull in two whilst shooting bolts of lightning from her tits. But alas, she didn’t because she’s better than me. That’s one reason I love her. Not long after that he began telling a story of his military police days when he was called in to protect his own officers from, I quote, “a bunch of blacks.” During this story he made sure to mention his opponents’ skin tone at least a half dozen times, as if it lent some extra credibility to his banal story or the clear banality of his mere existence. As if their race was even fucking relevant to the story. Racist asshole. I wonder if he’s friends with Dale the “niggar” hater Robertson of the Tea Tardy? They certainly look like they could be brothers. My wise wife soon encouraged us to leave and we did, but not soon enough. I still feel guilty that I let that racist misogynist talk so much. My wife brought up a good question after we left which was, “If he hates black people so much, then why was he in the Caribbean?” I thought about it for a moment and then I found the blazing answer: Because “the blacks” will wait on him just like in the good old days of his grand pappy’s grand pappy. Fuck me I should have called him out on his racist shit. Oh well, there will always be another chance for me to redeem myself in this bland country of ours.

"Scotch. Rocks. Make it quick. Oh, and don't touch the rim, macaca."

Anyway, I managed to avoid these disgusting mutations of evolution for the remainder of my time in Punta Cana, but there were others to irritate me, mostly loud frat boy types talking ’bout banging chicks and drinking brewskis… you know, more class act fucking Americans… but I can deal with those guys far easier than the arrogant, racist assholes. Oh shit, I nearly forgot about this other jack ass in a restaurant demanding his drinks come with four ice cubes and to “make it quick”. Fuck’s sake. What an asshole. His accent betrayed his home as somewhere in the coastal Virginia/North Carolina area. Seriously, I really felt sorry for the staff at Excellence in Punta Cana. They deserve fucking medals for what they do everyday which includes but is not limited to working harder than any fucking asshole that ever has or ever will visit their resort… and YES that includes me.

So here I am, back in the land of opportunity. I’m well rested and rearing to bust some shit up on the conservative assholes that did not have the decency to jump into slaughter stanchions or drink hemlock or just plain disappear while I was gone. I’m kind of relieved, actually. I didn’t want to be out of a job… or is it a hobby? It’s just become so easy and fun that I can’t tell anymore. Not surprising, it seems the conservatives have delivered on their promises of chaos, instability, and plain indecency while I was gone which I’ll have to jump into, but right now I’m hungry. I think I’ll call room service and order up a couple Excellence club sammies with guacamole… oh fuck, forgot where I was for a minute. Hopefully my friends from La Republica Dominicana (that’s the Dominican Republic for all you ignorant teabaggers) will survive the onslaught of asshole Americans until I can get down there again to treat them with the one thing most Americans lack: respect.

Hasta luego mis amigos,