I bought this alarm clock at the Pasadena Flea Market. It's got Mao Tse Tung on the face and the little blue arm down in the right-hand quadrant holding a red kerchief waves back and forth for the second hand. The guy only had 4 of them and they are authentic and obviously no longer made. I also own an Adolph Hitler postcard that cost me $8.00 which is in my postcard rack sandwiched between a little girl flipping the bird and a small black boy sitting on a pumpkin. People have asked me if I feel weird displaying these cards. The little girl is not but the other two are very rare and no, I do not feel weird about displaying them.
First you should know that I HATE LOATHE DESPISE political correctness in any form. A postcard of Hitler does not mean I'm going to kill 11 million people. Although that would not be a problem for me here in Los Angeles because when annoying people have sucked the very life force out of the towns and cities they come from they arrive here and go out of their way to meet me and get on my last available nerve.
So, gift from you to me? Please help stop the onslaught of ridiculously safe word substitutions to avoid being who you really are. Stop telling yourself you're vertically challenged, big-boned or follicle-impaired. You're short, you're fat and you're bald. Oh well.
How about if I start the ball rolling with I'm:
1. A bottle-enhanced blonde
2. A Size 8
3. And full of shit and pie
Is anyone really surprised there is no pie left? 29 hours. Not by a long shot is that a new record but the Vicodins really curb the appetite. Fuckers.
End of chat.