To Clarify

Predator Press

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US Katrina Death Toll: 2,000

US 9-11 Death Toll: 3,000

Japanese Death Toll: 10,000

(currently)

Japan is roughy the size of California in square miles.

California has 36,961,665 souls

-Japan has 127,176,667

HEAT

Predator Press

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I may have written about my “Bucket List” -a bunch of crap I want to do before I die- already.

-But all you die-hard Predator Press readers immolating yourselves should know this is a brand new post -so no matter how bad those gasoline fumes are, read this, shut the fuck up, and think about what you’ve done.

-Assholes.

But -as was saying before I was rudely interrupted- for the most part my "Bucket List" is sophomoric criminal bullshit:

1) steal a cop car and lead the cops on a high speed chase, or

2) steal an armored car and lead the cops on a medium-speed chase until I can

3) steal the helicopter cops use for high speed chases (eh? Eh?), and

4) screech to a halt just past a sign on a bridge that reads "County Line," and park to wave back happily at the fleet of furious cops that can no longer arrest me because I'm 6 linear feet outside their jurisdiction.

My 5th "Bucket List" item is more a pair of scientific theories I want you people to finally prove. (I would prove them myself in life, but because they are scientific theories, they may -MAY- require some ‘Mathematics.’ And while not willing to dabble in such pagan hoodoo, I do want the credit.)

Theory A) I think if you’re pulled over for a DUI and the cop asks you to take a sobriety test, you’re already fucked. Right?  He’s just making you do tricks so he can laugh watching them on his VHS later that day:

T       F

Theory B) You know how you can live on a rural street -middle of nowhere- and maybe six cars go by all day, but when you get in your car and start the ignition it’s like Chicago I-94 all of the sudden? Or how it seems every light is red?  Well, I think there is a well-organized squad of old people with walkie-talkies fucking with us. War vets -? They radio when we leave the house, where we're going, what and what bank teller lane we're getting into, et cetera.

But why 'old people,' o Brilliant One?” you are probably asking.

See, that logic took me a while. The Opportunity was never in question ... trust me: when I can‘t sleep and my dick doesn‘t work anymore, I‘ll be hassling you.  But what is the Motive? What the fuck do these geezers have against us?  I don’t want to put deer stalker hat factories out of business or anything …. I’m just sayin this blue haired buzzard bait has some crazy reason for doin’ this shit, right?

Eventually I crunched the numbers on Excel. I found that elderly people have a slower reaction time -sometimes half that of a person in his twenties. Then you factor in how they drive about two-thirds of the speed limit. And when these behaviors are coupled with frequent, sudden naps and crashing into 7-11s, it doesn‘t leave much actual “driving” -in 2.5 hours, your garden variety Senior Citizen will be closer to home than his or her original desired destination.  And over a long enough timeline, they will actually owe some driving …

T       F

Anyone else need a cigarette?

Wind-X Men

Predator Press

UFC Headline Match Cancelled Due to Japan Earthquake

Predator Press

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While UFC President Dana White did not accept questions, his words peel through clearly: the 2012 AMA Madison Square Garden Match of the Century -contracted at a whopping $7b- will indeed not be taking place as billed.

“We are looking at 2014,” says White cautiously. “But while Godzilla’s alibi for the 2011 Earthquake is airtight, we did come across some information that is troubling in the process. In the interest of the sport, we have declared Godzilla ineligible for competition until further notice.”

While White tactfully avoided the controversy of Godzilla’s recently testing positive for Gamma Ray radiation, he admits, “Gamma Rays can potentially make your skin stony, give you an elastic-like ability to stretch, give you the ability to set yourself aflame and fly, or -via invisibility- let Sue Richards give Reed 24/7 shit until he is driven to a suicide-by-cop killing spree.”

“We are stunned,” says Mothra’s trainers. “After studying hours and hours of Gamera fight footage, we never once suspected any ‘juicing.’ I guess it only makes sense if you’re 45,000 years old.”

But while Mothra’s camp has been considerably restrained on the subject, Chuck Liddell -formerly accused of injecting Charlie Sheen Tiger Blood- has not.

“I will eat Baby Godzilla the morning of the match,” says Liddell. “And I will crap Baby Godzilla all over Godzilla’s defeated carcass!”

All Blogs Go to Heaven

Predator Press

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Getting back into the blogging “groove,” I’ve done some visiting to old friends’ blogs -and found many of them are either dormant of gone entirely.

In possession of an unprecedented and staggering intellect -the equivalent of a hundred men or five or six women- I am forced to conclude that, in addition to Twitter and Facebook watering down our numbers, we are up against a battle for relevance.

The choice is clear: to rise once again to former glory, we bloggers must either focus ourselves on topics of social significance or start doing pornography. And because my beloved wife stubbornly won’t let me do porn, my current options appear fairly narrow.

Undeterred, I have decided that Predator Press will have to be a blog of Social Conscience, thus the pacecar for the generations of blogs to come. And it is in pursuit of these lofty goals that I announce -without equivocation- that Predator Press has solved two of the greatest problems ever to face humankind simultaneously: that of 1) forever being free of Middle East oil, and B) the elimination of abortion.

What am I specifically speaking of? The single most overlooked, most economic, and most renewable energy source the United States has ever had: orphans.

First of all, unless they are in a musical, nobody really likes orphans. They are grubby and smelly, often terrible at shoplifting, and do nothing but complain. As CEO of the most profitable orphanage in New Jersey, I can‘t tell you how sick I am hearing that same ol‘ singsong bullshit all day and night, “O I wish I had a mom and dad,” or “I’m so hungy!” Orphans, left to their own devices, are nothing but inexhaustible whiners.

-But we can change all that. Why have big ugly windmills blocking your skyline when you can lay them down and have orphans spin those now-inconspicuous blades for you? And with some advance planning, we don’t have to give up our kewl cars either: 20 buried orphans will, in a few years, completely replace the much-maligned dinosaur and the fuel it produces. And c’mon … what the fuck have dinosaurs ever done to you? Has a dinosaur ever abandoned mopping the floor to break into some annoying weepy song and/or monologue, thus exposing you to potential slip-and-fall lawsuits from your dinner guests?

Crash test dummies can cost thousands of dollars. Impact-absorbent NASCAR walls can run into the millions. And forget the delight of simply punching one; have you ever tasted orphan meat? It’s like tofu: it takes on whatever flavoring you add. Why eat, say, endangered bald eagles when there are thousands of these little bastards … and they are virtually everywhere?

I say the potential untapped technologies based on an ample and replenishable orphan supply have been ignored for far too long, and it seems to me Humanity owes it to the Mother Earth to give it a shot.

Internet Swag

Predator Press

Charlie Sheen's Winning Recipes from Charlie Sheen

Internet Swag

Predator Press

Stainless Steal

Predator Press

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I’m alarmed that Donald Trump, evasively squaring up for a Presidential run, is saying things I like -hell, need to hear!



AMERICA KICKS ASS

(-And we’re tired of taking your shit!) 

Indulging in that logic is almost sinful delight. But if we’re honest with ourselves, other countries didn’t water down our schools and jobs … we did.

So sure. Kick the shit out of another country. Then what?

Wait -that’s your plan?

Today's America is suffering from a crippling sense of entitlement. And before all you “Greatest Generation” Baby-Boomer assholes start high-fiving, I would like to point out that in 1968 America was every inch as rife with self-overthrowing sentiment as it was in 1776; but in 1969 -admittedly after a decade of effort- we put a man on the moon, and it’s been pretty smooth sailing ever since.


We.Americans.Did.That.Together.  

But what will be this American generation’s ‘Man on the Moon’ moment?

 

And what happens if we don’t get one?

I Feel My Pain

Predator Press

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I don’t know if you people know what an “MRI” is, but I had one today. An MRI is a test where they stick you in a white tube, ask you not to move, and blast you with Pink Floyd noises.

Well apparently holding up your lighter and yelling “Freebird!” counts as moving. The doc conducting the test eventually freaked out, and I won. So I passed the test, right?

-Just to be a mean-spirited asshole, Witchdoctor Quack M.D. further implied I needed a “Blood Panel” too. A “Blood Panel” is when a dark-skinned chick with letters tattooed on her knuckles stabs you in the arm with a rusty icepick until she has gathered three tubes and illegibly scrawls them with black marker.  The scrawls are almost certainly cryptographic symbols for Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner  (but I cannot back that up: the only tube labels I had time to make out said "Date Night" and "Not Cat").

Still, my agonized and noble shrieks and screams apparently warned others, and the clinic became surrounded by numerous loud car door slams and squealing tires. Finding my car in the parking lot will be easier now, right? I mean I’ve certainly passed this MRI bullish at this point!

But no. Nonetheless, this Third Trial was where I truly shined: my non-tiger blood came back as A+, clearly demonstrating its intellectual superiority over lesser, stupider bloods -and the same blood type I discovered my wife had the week before I suddenly proposed.

Take that, Charlie Sheen!

How Complex Cassandra

Predator Press

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It occurs that, without having written in a few months, I might be “out of touch” with The People.

-So I did what anybody does when out of touch with The People: I watched Lifetime Movies to get up to speed.

“Unsolved Mysteries“ scared the shit out of me yesterday, and that was supposed to be my new Predator Press topic. But today Unsolved Mysteries had a whole ’nother episode ... And it turns out there's a brand new one tomorrow!

Fuck all this "Mystery" crap.

-Without me, you people are goddamn lazy.

Executive Disorder

Predator Press

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How can you expect me to blog right now when Charlie Sheen has hijacked the entire Predator Press Charter?

”Tiger Blood?” … “Adonis?”

Oh please.

-The funny part is Charlie Sheen thinks Predator Press readers have fallen for the obvious diabolic geniosity we share!

But where will it end, Charlie?

Hm?