This rant wasn't intended for Page One, but here it is and here it will stay, for at least a week. Why? It started while I was searching for a suitable Top Story theme. Unmoved by the usual suspects - another race-related hissy fit, a tantrum about the on-going invasion from Central and South America - my mind wandered off to a much more compelling phenomenon: the White Blight.
I know what you're thinking and you're wrong. It - White Blight- has nothing to do with oppressors (aka whitey). 'White Blight' is a Hamboism for a curious observation: there's a 70% likelihood that the asshole who is tailgating you, cutting you off, or is just being a dick is driving a white car. 'White' denotes the color of the vehicle. 'Blight' warns you that a complete asshole is in the driver seat.
Did I just call everyone who drives a white car an asshole? Nope. I simply stated my conviction that an overwhelming majority of assholes prefer white cars, with silver cars running a distant second on the asshole car color preference roster.
Armed with 'White Blight', I wrestled with a thorny decision. Is this a suitable candidate for a law? Or, is it the newest Hambo theory? It lacks the requisite decisive quality needed by a law but it's a tad too proven to be a theory. After thinking it over, I concluded that it fits best with theory.
So what? In my case, with my Top Story musings at a dead end, I decide to expound upon my laws and theories. Among other things, it gives our table another week to relax, since this topic is devoid of table pounding prose.
Since we're already in 'theory' mode, here are a few for your thoughtful consideration:
Theory: Newton's Dirty Little Secret
"Don't be a schnook, you know you're gonna look."
-- Ziggy "The Brain" Kowalski
One of Newton's least known laws, states that sweater puppies create their own gravity well, after they cross a certain 'size' threshold. Women, by and large, have a natural immunity, but men don't. That's why, no matter how hard a dude tries, no matter how gross the sweater puppy packer, the bigger they are, the more impossible it is for him not to stare. It's not bad manners, it's science, Sparky.
Theory : The REAL reason NO-NADS hate men has nothing to do with 'the patriarchy'. NO-NADs hate men because dudes can take a whiz, standing up.
I had my moment of clarity during an outing with some friends. Having ingested the requisite quantity of adult beverage, nature called. The truth 'hit' me when Ziggy "The Brain" Kowalski bailed out of the car to drain the weasel behind a nearby tree. One of the females present expressed her profound disgust for this advantageous bit of male physiology with an impressive burst of Ziggy bashing profanity.
Eureka! NO-NADs hate men because the male of the human species is suitably equipped to take a standing whiz. Relief is a simple matter of zip, whip, whiz, shake, tuck, zip, get on with the business at hand. We're in and out, in a couple minutes, while SHE is still in that line outside the ladies room. That's when the penis envy reaches critical mass.
This wang envy gnaws at them, growing stronger every time they must stand in line, waiting, endlessly, for the women's room while HE is in and out of the men's room in a heartbeat. Eventually it unhinges the poor darlings completely.
You'd think that they'd be feeling smug because they outlive men, but NOOOOOOOO! They're eaten up with jealousy, because men can take a standing whiz. Isn't it about time they got over it?
Theory: Explaining The One
I've hatched a new theory about Messiah Barry.
It starts with a good time loving, dope smoking, dude whose ambition is to spend his life getting high and getting laid. He dreams of a no pressure job, where nobody expects him to do anything but cash his checks and party hearty. His name was Barry.
His happily ever after hits a scowling speed bump, when a hellish, shrew of a woman sinks her hooks into what she considers a diamond in the rough, whom she marries. She polishes her diamond, hounding him into meeting her idea of the right people. When the shrew finished with him, Barry was gone and Barack had, reluctantly taken his place.
Profoundly unhappy, our hero doesn't have the stones to tell them all to piss off. Instead, he lets his shrew wife hound him into a series of increasingly stressful jobs, all of which he despises. Eventually, he's hounded into the most stressful job on Earth and he hates it.
Since he can't tell the shrew to STFU, he refocuses his anger on a nation that put him into that hellish job. He's taking out his shrew-directed anger on We the People and this land conceived in liberty because he's afraid to confront his wife and tell her: Leave me the fuck alone, bitch.
What Barack hates most of all isn't America. What he really hates is his life. He wants to be Barry again.
Theory: Perks and Penalties
I've noticed that Mother Nature has a twisted way of balancing her books. For every biological perk, she imposes a corresponding penalty. Here's a example.
Perk: A male California Gray Whale has a wang that's at least 12 feet long.
Penalty: Despite his impressive 'gear', he only gets laid once a year. First, he listens to months of 'not tonight, honey, I've got a headache'. Then, since she can only get 'in the mood' to hell and gone from the only place a whale dude can get a decent meal, he must swim thousands of miles for a shot at his once-a-year booty call.
Mother Nature pulled a similar trick on us. After giving human males this standing whiz perk, this sick wench was compelled to impose a corresponding penalty. That's why she affixed the troublesome male appendage in front, then made life thrilling for males by giving them a hair-trigger libido that's triggered by visual stimuli. How the hell is a dude supposed to convince some hottie that he 'loves her for her mind', when that tent in the front of his pants is screaming, LIAR, LIAR, PANTS ON FIRE.
Life is, as many of us have noticed, defined by off-setting conditions. For example, nature is replete with incidents of off-setting natural forces. The thrust of a jet's engine is offset by a physical property we call 'drag'. Electrons moving through a wire are offset by the wire's inherent resistance. Our planet is held in its orbit by a balance struck between the Earth's momentum and the Sun's gravity.
Human biology is also defined by these off-setting forces, what I like to call 'perks' and 'penalties'. Human males get the 'perk' of a standing whiz, plus an 'instant on' arousal mechanism. It's the latter which imposes the penalty. Instant on is an automatic response, which a dude can't always control and is destined to be embarrassing. I guarantee that, sooner or later, every dude will pitch blatant, involuntary, 'wood'.
Human females get the 'perk' of being multi-orgasmic, but it, too, has a penalty. Unlike the male, there's no 'instant on' feature, so, before she can go off like a 21-gun salute, someone has to coax her nads into a cooperative frame of mind.
Once you set your mind to it, you'll notice perks and penalties cropping up everywhere. It's what 'they' mean by 'life is a series of tradeoffs'.
What: A Citizen's Right to Vote
Perk: As an American citizen, you get to pick the Elected Tormentor(s) who will represent you.
Penalty: Every intellectual flatliner gets the same perk, which explains how an unabashed Marxist Messiah won the keys to the Red Shed's Oval Office.
What: Inalienable Individual Liberty
Perk: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."
Penalty: Those selected to preserve, protect and defend your liberty are the ones most likely to trample on it.
Perk: It's blessed with countless natural wonders and mild weather.
Penalty: It's populated by a critical mass of raving moonbats who, invariably, punch a chad for some rampaging, Marxist.
What: "No Assembly Required"
Perk: The salespunk assured you that your new whizbang is "so easy to install that even a child can do it."
Penalty: There's never one of the smartass snot-gobblers around when you really need them.
By now, you should have the big picture. All things considered, Perks & Penalties aren't a fate worse than death, if you're paying attention. You need to train yourself to look past the perk, which is always front and center, to check out the penalty that's lurking in the shadows. Study the perk and penalty closely, critically, then ask yourself "Is it worth it?"
With an increasingly lawless government, and a growing lawlessness among various elements of the parasite horde, I stepped into the void, with some laws of my own. Here are some pertinent examples.
Hambo's Character Building Axiom
Although character building begins when things go wrong with your 'best laid plan', it's not an official character building episode, until you start swearing.
Hambo's Technology Axiom
Eventually, all programmable whiz bangs will be hit by the twin terrors of technology: a computer virus and a porn application.
Hambo's Media Circus Law
No news story qualifies as a legitimate Media Circus, until the Media Slut In Red (Gloria Allred) gets her on camera face time.
Hambo's Political Scandal Law
If the first word out of the news nitwit's mouth isn't REPUBLICAN, you can bet the proverbial agriculture endeavor that the sleazy Elected Tormentor is a Demoncrat.
Hambo's First Inconvenient Truth
The time interval between your purchase of an item and its loss - or destruction - is inversely proportional to the price you paid. In other words, the more you pay, the shorter the time you'll have it: I.E., those $300 sunglasses won't last a fortnight, but that $10 pair will be with your forever.
Hambo's Aviation Law
The words most likely to appear in any headline about a homemade aircraft are "crashes" and "pilot dies".
Hambo's Marketplace Theorem
For every asinine, intrusive, liberty infringing bureaucratic action, there is an equal, and opposite, liberty restoring marketplace reaction.
Hambo's Rural Justice Axiom
You probably won't find Sheriff Andy Taylor in rural America, but every town has its Barney Fife.
Hambo's Law of Promotions
"Anyone but him/her" is a virtually infallible way to determine who will be promoted to run your department. (Simply look around for the one who elicits the strongest "anyone but them" response.)
Hambo's Thespian Axiom
A thespian's ego is inversely proportional to his, her, hisher or its intelligence. (Actors are so full of themselves that they can't see how stupid they are.)
Hambo's Shyster Spew Law
The suckage of a product touted on the radio is inversely proportional to the speed and length of the shyster spew at the end of the ad. (The faster they talk, the longer it lasts, the more likely it is that the product reeks.)
Hambo's Nutrition Theorem
A food's ranking on the Food Nazi hit list is inversely proportional to how much you enjoy eating it. I.E., the better it tastes, the more likely it is that some Food Nazi wants to ban it.
Hambo's Fun Food Fact
The better it tastes, the higher the probability that your doctor would have a hissy fit if he caught you eating it.
Hambo's Warbler Law
The listenability of any singer is inversely proportional to the number of bumping and grinding guys 'n gals on stage with him, her, himher, or it. [The more 'distractions' a warbler deploys, the more their singing is likely to suck.]
Hambo's Defensive Eating Law
When confronted with food you don't recognize, don't be a hero. Wait for someone else to try it first. It's better to be a witness at their coroner's inquest than to be the guest of honor at yours.
Hambo's First Law of Journalism
In the twilight zone called journalism, there are certain givens. One 'given' is that the most likely words to follow a lead about a risk taking dolt dubbed an 'Adventurer' are, in no special order: stranded, lost, missing, injured and killed.
Hambo's Need To Breed Law
Anyone can spawn, but those who are least prepared for parenthood are the ones who are most likely to play reproduction roulette with the human gene pool.
All these deep thoughts are giving me a headache, so I'll wrap this up and chill with an ice cold one. As for you, PIGster Sparky, sit back and marvel at my compelling wisdom.
Holy Enlightenment, Batman.