Latest posts by jjfozz (see all)
- Off With Their Heads – Those Goofy Toothed Blue Blooded Bastards – September 7, 2018
- Your 2018 “I’ll Keep my Money, Bisciotti” Baltimore Ravens Preview – August 8, 2018
- Boots on the Ground: Extreme Rules Wrestling in Mobtown – June 15, 2017
You know what I need to know RIGHT FUCKING NOW? I need to know what you had for breakfast, and lunch, and dinner. And I need a goddamn picture of it, along with a description, and finish it with emoticons. That will complete me as a human being.
Nah, just kidding.
It makes me want to run over you with a cement truck. I want to mangle your fucking face with the business end of a tire iron. I want to make sure that you can never again pollute the internet with your stupid drivel. My goal is to turn you in to the main character from Johnny Got His Gun.
Social media is an absolute hellhole, and I fucking loathe it. Now, here’s full disclosure, I have a Facebook page. So yes, I’m a complete hypocrite. Except that my postings are witty, engaging, and full of interesting shit. I don’t post banal trivia things and stay away from politics and racism and whatever in fuck Colin Krapperdick is up to these days.
And if Facebook wasn’t annoying enough, you can always go and take a dip in the reeking cesspool that is Twitter. Oh my fucking god. What special hell is this? You have 140 characters to express a thought or idea, and most of the fucktards in this world only know about 20 letters in the alphabet.
Or maybe you could have a Twitter war. Yes. Have one, and hopefully someone will shove a bayonet so deep into your ear that it comes out of your throat. Do we really need to know what a celebrity is thinking? Or some dipshit athlete? Nah. We don’t, you all suck shit.
What else? Oh yeah, Instragram! I need a picture of your kid being “cute.” If you can, throw up a ridiculous meme or inspirational quote. One game that’s fun to play on Instagram is doing a search that yields boobies or sex. You have to finagle the search terms to get what you want, but there is a bonanza of boobs. So yes, we can overlook Instagram.
Remember the good old fashioned way of bullying? You picked out the weakest member of the herd, pushed his face into wet cement, maybe poured motor oil down his pants, you got creative. Now, this wimp ass generation harasses each other from behind a keyboard or phone. Stupid fucking cretins. Get out there into the street and bully how your dad used to. I hope once you’re done the kid you’re picking on punches your teeth right the fuck down your throat.
It’s all bullshit, and we’ve turned into a society that has to have the latest “news” right now. Too bad about 99% of it is complete shit. As a species we are doomed.
I’m considering a ban in the house on social media, which could drive Mrs. Fozz into complete and total meltdown. But let’s be serious, if me and my spawn haven’t done that yet, nothing is going to break her.
(And on a totally unrelated subject, sitting down on a chair and squashing your balls has to be the most irritating and anger-inducing thing a male can do to himself. Seriously? I have balls, I know where they are, I know how they work, where they belong and I still sit on them?)
See you chicken head biting geekoids later.
Highlight of the Week
I had a steak on Saturday that would have made Zeus fall down and fucking weep.