Wishing for an elf thot to make a ho pun.

Hangover Archives: 2019–12

Froge’s First Festive Fhangover!

Ho, ho, ho! Merry CrimCram, Scringuses! It’s time for the famous festive cheer of our favourite atheist holiday: Solstice! It’s one of many alternative yuletide holidays that will never catch on, because the human race is composed of either the ruling class or the peasantry. The peasants are kept in deliberate ignorance to prevent revolting against the contrived Christmas season, and the rulers artificially manufacture cheer and merriment in order to sell $50 pieces of plastic to materialist children all across the globe (except for the poor countries). Yes, this is truly a conspiracy for the ages, right up there with the Jews doing 9/11, the Jews blowing up Pearl Harbour, or the Jews inventing DNA to blow up Pearl Harbour on 9/11. It’s always about the Jews for some reason.

This is right about the time of year where beggars enter into my house and solicit me for donations to worthless causes like children’s hospitals and charities for the blind. Unfortunately I have been cursed with empathy, for my time canvassing for the NDP (Not Dimportant in Parliament) taught me two things. One: human beings are all bottom-feeding scum suckers who wouldn’t think twice about infecting themselves with an HIV-tainted knife if it meant a homeless person wouldn’t be able to sell the organs off their corpse ― unless they vote for us, then they’re good people. Two: no matter what the law says about our political right to wake you up, invade your privacy, and ruin your front lawn for the sake of asking you to vote for a party we damn well know you’re not going to vote for, you people will still be bitches about it.

I have also been cursed with a gigantic penis, so whenever these kind folks come around, I do answer the door ― except for the Jehovcucks, who can fuck off. I don’t understand how these cultists escape from Canada’s Ass into the 49th parallel of basic human decency, but I’ve been fortunate enough to dodge them, since my own cult has me carry a halberd. Most solicitations come to me in the form of junk mail, which is concerning because they know my address as well as my name. My life is a Death Grips song at that point. Watching me, watching me, watch them watch me (×12) (the “×” is the multiplication symbol) (this means the lyric repeats twelve times) (they don’t repeat twelve times in a row though, so watch out!).

Hey. I’m done joking around. You should donate to those charities. Or don’t, I don’t know. I’m tired from making the new Hangover page. No, I will not be linking it.

Thanos Orange Justice Kinder Egg Surprise

How? How have we denigrated as a society to the point where the words “Thanos Orange Justice Kinder Egg Surprise” doesn’t register any greater emotion than a neuron firing in our monkey brains? How have we become so saturated in media culture and constant dopamine rushes that no novelty less than an open palm reaching through your literal screen will wake us up from our meme marination? What ashes have we snorted from the fires of invention which make us high off our collective ballsacks? For whomst does the balls toll?

What do those words even mean? Well, I’m not telling you, boomer. Everyone knows that as you get older you become wiser, and that means we should listen to our elders 100% of the time with no complaints because they are correct about everything all the time and you can go fuck yourself if you dare contradict their teachings that the AIDS virus is not caused by HIV, but is in fact caused by God punishing us for eating cheeseburgers and about forty other arbitrary things.

The almighty Lord has nothing better to do than make sure you don’t shave your beard, as opposed to the Bible being composed of the deranged contradictory ramblings of illiterate desert savages, badly-translated through multiple extinct languages over thousands of years and haphazardly forced upon the unwilling populaces of dozens of countries for centuries to persecute dissent in a manner more unthinkingly evil than the atrocities occurring in fascist theocracies across the world today.

“Hmm, I wonder what’s on my favourite Internet blog, Frogesay. Surely there won’t be any claims of the AIDS virus not being caused by HIV followed by inane cold takes about the nature of Christianity and geopolitical affairs…”

You’d think that in a world where we have access to unlimited information able to be retrieved at will, our populace would be, on average, more intelligent, more skilled, and more willing to listen to information that contradicts their worldview ― at least when it comes to views they might be incorrect on. And yet we continue to find the human spirit prevails against such nebulous concepts such as “science” and “knowledge”. Our species may have an insatiable curiosity, but we certainly don’t have wisdom. At best, we have experience, and when new information contradicts those experiences, we’re apt to believe it’s the universe that is wrong rather than ourselves. How selfish our egos are.

And learning is hard. Learning how to learn is even harder. It’s no wonder why Wikipedia is the ninth most visited website in the world, and yet the average person doesn’t understand how it works, why people would contribute to it, or how it stops from devolving into complete and utter anarchy. I bet you’ve heard stories of some smartass vandalising a Wikipedia page by inserting the word “penis” into random places. It doesn’t occur to these people that Barack “Penis” Obama doesn’t exist on Wikipedia, because their vandalism is instantly reverted by roving squadrons of friendly robots who are fun to edit with. I wonder if smoothbrain is a chronic condition.

But instead of reading the entirety of human knowledge, we instead choose less strenuous pursuits, and indulge in Thanos Orange Justice Kinder Egg Surprise. We indulge in memes. We indulge in funny YouTube videos. And though there is nothing wrong with entertainment, it becomes wrong when we devote the whole of our lives to nothing more. What right do I have to feel guilty for only uploading on my favourite Internet blog, Frogesay, once every two days? There are millions of people who are wasting their lives doing nothing more but indulging in the endless novelty of the Internet! And if it were not for the Internet, it would be in television, in video games, and in the unhappy existence we all occupy and must distract ourselves from through any convenient means!

And, no, I don’t hate the Internet, or television. Games can go fuck themselves ― jokes! I don’t mind them, either. They are but mediums with which to transfer ideas and emotion. But they have a bad reputation for a reason. 90% of everything is crap, but even with a brazen contempt for the audience who willingly spent money on being insulted with generic anti-artistic tat, you don’t see the same large and passionate audience campaigning for games as an artform as much as you do with comics and movies ― two other fucked-up, commercialised mediums where everything they touch turns to cash, where a cold bar of gold is worth more than a grown man’s tears.

Am I contributing to the denigration of our society by masking my courageous opinions in the cowardice of good humour? Am I contributing to our increasing decadence and culture of ignorance by producing work that exists to bemuse, if not to make you think? And am so sinister as to expect to influence someone, anyone, that my view of the world is righteous, that my mindset is correct, and that those who follow and adhere to my opinions will find themselves happier and more fulfilled on average than those who simply live on in ignorance? I don’t know, but at least I haven’t committed any genocides. At least not lately.