Let's just pretend I never left, shall we? I now game test for Microsoft, have money, and am going to PAX tomorrow. This is all you need to know.
More on this later.
May 30, 2010
A Reflection on Shitting (pt 1)
I'm not sure if this counts as a "from the vault" or not, as I originally wrote this specifically for this blog. At the same time, I wrote it a few months ago. For some reason, I never published it. And yes, this is only part 1. there are many, many types of shit, and I shall regale you with descriptions of all of them.
For about the past 24 hours, I have been sick as a dog with a particularly fail stomach virus. It has caused me to projectile vomit repeatedly, including once into a paper bag when the bathroom was in use. But maybe even worse then that is what it has done to my bowls, a most unpleasant occurrence. Diarrhea beyond diarrhea. Essentially, I've been pissing brown out my ass every hour or so. Sometimes, involuntarily. Sharting in my sleep is... well... less fun then a roller-coaster, but more fun then wrestling Magic Johnson in a pit full of hypodermic needles.
And with my spectacularly awful, liquid feces, I have had cause to look back and reminisce on better times, when my ass squeezed out solid, glorious matter. I think back to the days when I had cause to name my various types of shit, and smile. And now, I shall pass it on to you. Not the virus, the names. Of shit. And... yeah.
The Yogurt Snake: The long, soft, uniform shit that coils up in the little lower bowl. The kind that looks like a really long, soft tootsie roll. Just think about that the next time you eat a tootsie roll, and try not to gag.
Uncorking the Barrel: A combination of solid and liquid shit, this one is actually one of the only fun ways to have diarrhea. It's exactly what it sounds like. You push out a tiny lump of nutty goodness, which was the only thing keeping a veritable lake of vile, sloshing shit-essence back. This one actually has two variants: The Krakatoa, where the turd plug is forcibly expelled from your ass by a pent-up fart, which is then released in one massive blast, and The Champagne Shotgun, a combination of the two.
The Frankenstein: A turd obviously made of several smaller ones, mushed up together. Upon examination of the "skin" of the shit, you will find that the cracks are not actually cracks created by pressing it through your corn-hole, but rather the points where shit has melded to shit, like when you press bits of play-dough against each other.
Running the Chocolate Marathon: The kind of shit that will leave you in the bathroom for damn near an hour, maybe more. Not because you are reading on the can, or simply relaxing on your throne, but an hour of straight shitting. Often leads to...
The Breacher: A shit massive enough to break the surface of the water in a standard toilet. Low-flow crappers don't count. This one can be combined with pretty much any other shit, as it is a measure of size, not type. So when recounting your shit to friends and family, you would refer to it as a "Breaching *blank*"
The Anal Rainbow: Have you ever taken a peek into the shitter, only to be astounded by the sheer cornucopia of colors? Not just one color, but a plethora? I once had a log slowly transition from brown to green, to blue, as if my shit-printer ran out of ink. You heard me right. Not only did I shit three colors, one of them was fucking BLUE.
For about the past 24 hours, I have been sick as a dog with a particularly fail stomach virus. It has caused me to projectile vomit repeatedly, including once into a paper bag when the bathroom was in use. But maybe even worse then that is what it has done to my bowls, a most unpleasant occurrence. Diarrhea beyond diarrhea. Essentially, I've been pissing brown out my ass every hour or so. Sometimes, involuntarily. Sharting in my sleep is... well... less fun then a roller-coaster, but more fun then wrestling Magic Johnson in a pit full of hypodermic needles.
And with my spectacularly awful, liquid feces, I have had cause to look back and reminisce on better times, when my ass squeezed out solid, glorious matter. I think back to the days when I had cause to name my various types of shit, and smile. And now, I shall pass it on to you. Not the virus, the names. Of shit. And... yeah.
The Yogurt Snake: The long, soft, uniform shit that coils up in the little lower bowl. The kind that looks like a really long, soft tootsie roll. Just think about that the next time you eat a tootsie roll, and try not to gag.
Uncorking the Barrel: A combination of solid and liquid shit, this one is actually one of the only fun ways to have diarrhea. It's exactly what it sounds like. You push out a tiny lump of nutty goodness, which was the only thing keeping a veritable lake of vile, sloshing shit-essence back. This one actually has two variants: The Krakatoa, where the turd plug is forcibly expelled from your ass by a pent-up fart, which is then released in one massive blast, and The Champagne Shotgun, a combination of the two.
The Frankenstein: A turd obviously made of several smaller ones, mushed up together. Upon examination of the "skin" of the shit, you will find that the cracks are not actually cracks created by pressing it through your corn-hole, but rather the points where shit has melded to shit, like when you press bits of play-dough against each other.
Running the Chocolate Marathon: The kind of shit that will leave you in the bathroom for damn near an hour, maybe more. Not because you are reading on the can, or simply relaxing on your throne, but an hour of straight shitting. Often leads to...
The Breacher: A shit massive enough to break the surface of the water in a standard toilet. Low-flow crappers don't count. This one can be combined with pretty much any other shit, as it is a measure of size, not type. So when recounting your shit to friends and family, you would refer to it as a "Breaching *blank*"
The Anal Rainbow: Have you ever taken a peek into the shitter, only to be astounded by the sheer cornucopia of colors? Not just one color, but a plethora? I once had a log slowly transition from brown to green, to blue, as if my shit-printer ran out of ink. You heard me right. Not only did I shit three colors, one of them was fucking BLUE.
May 16, 2010
Review: Game: Alan Wake
About a year ago, back when the acclaimed survival-horror game "Dead Space" came out, I gave it a try. In my room, alone, at night, with the lights off, I turned my Xbox 360 on and entered the shoes of an engineer exploring an alien-infested ship.
30 minutes later, the console is off, the lights are on, and I've got the covers pulled up to my eyes. Needless to say, I was far too scared to continue playing.
I will be the first to admit that horror games are my bane. My kryptonite. My Achilles heel. So when I saw how awesome Alan Wake, the most recent game by Remedy, the makers of the successful "Max Payne" series, looked, I was very sad.
"It looks so good," I thought, "but it also looks rather terrifying. There's no way I'll be able to play it."
But as time went on and Alan Wake looked better and better, I became more and more determined to play this game. So when I finally got my hands on it, I did all I could to make it as un-scary as possible. I played only during the day, with the lights on, while someone else was in the room. And dear lord, am I glad that I did.
Labeled as a psychological action thriller, the game more than lives up to its name. Drawing on various sources for story and feel, such as Lost, the X Files, Twin Peaks, and anything ever written by Stephan King, the game is action-packed, thrilling, and has quite the psychological bent to it. Allow me to explain...
The first words uttered in the game are "Stephan King once said..." Already off to a fantastic start. It then gets better as you find out that you play the part of best-selling writer Alan Wake, on vacation to the idyllic small Washington (represent!) town of Bright Falls. On his first night in the town, his wife is kidnapped, and he loses consciousness. He awakes at the wheel of a crashed car one week later, with no memory of the past seven days. As he stumbles about in the dark woods, he discovers a page of manuscript. One that he apparently wrote, but does not remember writing. The page details how he will be attacked by an axe-wielding psychopath, shrouded with some sort of living darkness. And sure enough, he is attacked. As the story unfolds, it goes according to a plot he apparently wrote, one which spells disaster for the small town.
The story is one of the best I have ever seen in a video game. I would love to tell you exactly why it is so fantastic, but to do so would spoil it, and I refuse to do that. Let's just say it ridiculously fantastic, shall we?
And the combat... in order to defeat the enemies known as the "Taken", you have to burn the enshrouding darkness off of them with a flashlight, rendering them vulnerable to pistol rounds, shotgun shot, and a hefty dose of hunting rifle. While this sounds like it would quickly get dull, it really doesn't. Instead, it makes the combat just a bit more terrifying, because being surrounded by a bunch of enemies that are completely unaffected by your attacks is pretty damn awful.
The game progresses in an episodic format, with a "Last time on Alan Wake" segment at the beginning of each new chapter to recap the story so far. As I said, the game is partially based off of shows like Twin Peaks. Thank the gods that the soundtrack isn't. Instead, several original songs combined with several classic songs ("Put da lime in da coconut...") make up a really great soundtrack. And once you play the chapter involving the rock stage, you will understand why I want the song "Children of the Elder God" as the soundtrack to my life.
This may be my new favorite game. Ever. And though I (obviously) have not played all the games that will come out this year, I can almost guarantee you that this will be my personal pick for Game of the Year. I give Alan Wake a 10 of 10. (Yes, a real rating. Don't get used to it.)
30 minutes later, the console is off, the lights are on, and I've got the covers pulled up to my eyes. Needless to say, I was far too scared to continue playing.
I will be the first to admit that horror games are my bane. My kryptonite. My Achilles heel. So when I saw how awesome Alan Wake, the most recent game by Remedy, the makers of the successful "Max Payne" series, looked, I was very sad.
"It looks so good," I thought, "but it also looks rather terrifying. There's no way I'll be able to play it."
But as time went on and Alan Wake looked better and better, I became more and more determined to play this game. So when I finally got my hands on it, I did all I could to make it as un-scary as possible. I played only during the day, with the lights on, while someone else was in the room. And dear lord, am I glad that I did.
Labeled as a psychological action thriller, the game more than lives up to its name. Drawing on various sources for story and feel, such as Lost, the X Files, Twin Peaks, and anything ever written by Stephan King, the game is action-packed, thrilling, and has quite the psychological bent to it. Allow me to explain...
The first words uttered in the game are "Stephan King once said..." Already off to a fantastic start. It then gets better as you find out that you play the part of best-selling writer Alan Wake, on vacation to the idyllic small Washington (represent!) town of Bright Falls. On his first night in the town, his wife is kidnapped, and he loses consciousness. He awakes at the wheel of a crashed car one week later, with no memory of the past seven days. As he stumbles about in the dark woods, he discovers a page of manuscript. One that he apparently wrote, but does not remember writing. The page details how he will be attacked by an axe-wielding psychopath, shrouded with some sort of living darkness. And sure enough, he is attacked. As the story unfolds, it goes according to a plot he apparently wrote, one which spells disaster for the small town.
The story is one of the best I have ever seen in a video game. I would love to tell you exactly why it is so fantastic, but to do so would spoil it, and I refuse to do that. Let's just say it ridiculously fantastic, shall we?
And the combat... in order to defeat the enemies known as the "Taken", you have to burn the enshrouding darkness off of them with a flashlight, rendering them vulnerable to pistol rounds, shotgun shot, and a hefty dose of hunting rifle. While this sounds like it would quickly get dull, it really doesn't. Instead, it makes the combat just a bit more terrifying, because being surrounded by a bunch of enemies that are completely unaffected by your attacks is pretty damn awful.
The game progresses in an episodic format, with a "Last time on Alan Wake" segment at the beginning of each new chapter to recap the story so far. As I said, the game is partially based off of shows like Twin Peaks. Thank the gods that the soundtrack isn't. Instead, several original songs combined with several classic songs ("Put da lime in da coconut...") make up a really great soundtrack. And once you play the chapter involving the rock stage, you will understand why I want the song "Children of the Elder God" as the soundtrack to my life.
This may be my new favorite game. Ever. And though I (obviously) have not played all the games that will come out this year, I can almost guarantee you that this will be my personal pick for Game of the Year. I give Alan Wake a 10 of 10. (Yes, a real rating. Don't get used to it.)
May 12, 2010
Review: Movie: Robin Hood
When I went to see Ridley Scott's latest movie, a little film entitled "Robin Hood", starring Russel Crowe, I was lead to expect one thing, and one thing only. I did not receive what I was promised. And do you know why this is a very, very sad thing?
It's sad because the only thing I was expecting was Robin Hood.
You heard me right. While the movie had plentiful amounts of Robin, it had so little Hood that I think it should be renamed, "Y'know that story about that 'steal from the rich, give to the poor' guy? Well, this movie has similarly named characters!"
In the previews, King John announces that Robin Hood is an outlaw, the Sheriff of Nottingham nails up a wanted poster, and much fighting ensues. This follows the classic Robin Hood storyline quite well. Do you know when in the movie King John says that Robin Hood is an outlaw? The last 10 minutes.
Aside from the fact that Robin did no Hooding, there are several other problems I have with this film. First of all, because this is America, they had to add explosions. Giant, fiery explosions. In the middle of 12th century France. Second, they decided that Robin Hood's past wasn't mysterious enough. So they decided to make his long-lost father a freedom-loving stone-mason who wrote the Magna Carta years before it actually existed and was promptly killed by the evil tyrannical king. Of course.
They also decided that the story of Robin Hood wasn't complex enough. Instead of Robin Hood being Robin of Locksley, getting pissed-off by King John over-taxing the peasants, and so proceeding to steal from the rich and give to the poor, he got a bit of a backstory-makeover. Now he's an archer named Robin Longstride who finds Robin of Loxley half dead after a French ambush, takes his stuff, and then pretends to be Robin of Loxley. At the behest of Loxley, he brings his sword back to his dad in Nottingham, where Marian waits to be the love interest. MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE HALL OF JUSTIC- I MEAN LONDON... we discover that King John is a giant nepotistic douche (at least they got that part right), which backfires when his now-powerful buddy makes a deal with France to get England pissed off at John so France can invade.
Comitus- I mean Prince John... is not a lion in this version. Sad = me.
MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE HALL OF NOTTINGHAM... Robin finds out his dad was some super-awesome God of Freedom and king-fighting. Then the King's backstabbing buddy begins his wedge driving by burning a bunch of villages. The last one he tries to burn is Nottingham. So Robin and some old Crusader buddies fight them off, while Friar Tuck kills a bunch of soldiers with bees. Him being a man of the cloth and all, the only thing running through my mind at this point is, "Let he who is without sin cast the first bees." I laugh.
Then everyone and their dog goes and fights off the short lived (and historically non-existent) French invasion, King John burns the Magna Carta, and declares Robin an outlaw. In the last 3 minutes of the movie. The gang of Merry Men, Sherwood Forest, and being an outlaw are only briefly mentioned before a fade to black. The movie was okay, but was not "Robin Hood." Maybe if they had called it "Robin Hood Begins" or something like that, I would be less pissed. Instead, I went to a movie expecting "Robin Hood", and got "A guy named Robin pretending to be another guy named Robin who's father wrote the Magna Carta amid a backdrop of old English politics." Fail. I give this movie a "Disappointing" out of 10.
May 8, 2010
Review: Book: The Kama FUCKING (no pun intended) Sutra!
Keep in mind, I wrote this for the school paper, and it was recently published nearly word for word (some of the fucks pulled out, but what do you expect). It has since gained both notoriety and populatrity amongst the students, and weirdly enough, several parents of the staff. And may I just say, this was one fun story to write.
The first of May approacheth, and that means it's time to bust out the old penis allegory May Pole, string ribbons from the top, and have young women of child-baring age dance about it in a festival of fucking. In honor of this auspicious day, I wanted to review something with a slightly erotic lilt to it. Then I decided to forget that "slightly" bit and go with the single most erotic subject I can review, without delving into the sordid and ever so populous realm of internet porn. I decided to review that first and greatest how-to sex manual, the Kama Sutra.
Upon beginning my read of the Kama Sutra, I encountered three surprises: 1) The book is rather long, 2) it's not all about sex, and 3) it's written in goddamn prose. Interestingly enough, only one of the seven parts of the book relates to sexual positions; much of the rest is teaching men how to make themselves attractive to women, catching a wife (or twelve), and proper conduct when around hookers, the King's Harem, and other men's wives. While the hooker and harem bits make for interesting reads, I don't need help making myself attractive to women. They just flock to me like flies to a malodorous heap of excrement. Perhaps that wasn't the most apt simile...
And damn it all to hell, the prose. The Iliad and the Odyssey were an ordeal, and now I have to read the prose of a millennia-dead Indian sage trying to write "Women for Dummies." The non-pornographic bits took a herculean effort just to muscle through, and as for absorbing the information... let's just say there needs to be Cliff's Notes for the boring parts. They take up most of the book and pretty much just buffer the pretty drawings of rampant humping from the dust covers.
But when you do get to the good part, boy oh boy are you in for a wild ride. Before I read the Kama Sutra, I thought I was pretty up to speed on things. I mean, I'm not naive. I've seen the Internet. When it comes to bumping uglies people can get fairly creative, even if they are a pair of desperate crack addicts making a sex film to support their habit, sobbing deeply on the inside as their inner child shoots itself in the head. But the crack-addled minds of porn stars and their "directors" have nothing on the Wisdom of the Ages collected in the Kama Sutra.
There is something for everyone in the Kama Sutra. You think I'm exaggerating? Let me describe to you what the Kama Sutra calls "giving a blow." It's not what you think. At all. It's where the woman forcibly yanks the man's wang out of her and fucking punches it. And when you think about it, the way they use the term "blow" in the Kama Sutra makes more sense than it does in common sexual terminology.
How about another example, one that I don't think would be particularly comfortable for any of the parties involved: "When both the legs of the woman are contracted, and placed on her stomach, it is called 'crab's position'." One look at the included illustration revealed that this pretty much means trying to churn her butter while both partners are in the fetal position. Like I said, uncomfortable. But beyond even that is "The Turning Position." From what I can tell, this entails the man, while joined to the woman tighter than a trailer hitch in sub-zero weather, flipping his leg over her, so that his junk points backwards, through his legs. What in all hell is this nonsense. No. Just... no.
Not only are some of the positions purely mind-boggling, but some of the names are as well. Some make sense or are easy to decipher, like "Splitting the Bamboo" or "The Top" (use your imagination, the first thing you think of is probably exactly what it is), there are others that either sound more freakish than they actually are, or make no sense whatsoever. "The Fixing of a Nail", "The Mare's Position", and "Sporting of a Sparrow", just to name a few.
There is even a segment for you "swingers" out there. That's right, the Kama Sutra even gives tips on how to efficiently operate during a wild and crazy orgy. Both the positions "United Congress" and "Congress of a herd of Cows" are dedicated to multiple partner sex, and go into detail about how to properly conduct yourself while attending an orgy.
There isn't much else I can say about the Kama Sutra. Only that I have learned a lot from it (you hear that, ladies?), and will never again doubt that there will always be more sex positions. I give this book a "Dear Lord, women really bend that way?!" out of 10.
The first of May approacheth, and that means it's time to bust out the old penis allegory May Pole, string ribbons from the top, and have young women of child-baring age dance about it in a festival of fucking. In honor of this auspicious day, I wanted to review something with a slightly erotic lilt to it. Then I decided to forget that "slightly" bit and go with the single most erotic subject I can review, without delving into the sordid and ever so populous realm of internet porn. I decided to review that first and greatest how-to sex manual, the Kama Sutra.
Upon beginning my read of the Kama Sutra, I encountered three surprises: 1) The book is rather long, 2) it's not all about sex, and 3) it's written in goddamn prose. Interestingly enough, only one of the seven parts of the book relates to sexual positions; much of the rest is teaching men how to make themselves attractive to women, catching a wife (or twelve), and proper conduct when around hookers, the King's Harem, and other men's wives. While the hooker and harem bits make for interesting reads, I don't need help making myself attractive to women. They just flock to me like flies to a malodorous heap of excrement. Perhaps that wasn't the most apt simile...
And damn it all to hell, the prose. The Iliad and the Odyssey were an ordeal, and now I have to read the prose of a millennia-dead Indian sage trying to write "Women for Dummies." The non-pornographic bits took a herculean effort just to muscle through, and as for absorbing the information... let's just say there needs to be Cliff's Notes for the boring parts. They take up most of the book and pretty much just buffer the pretty drawings of rampant humping from the dust covers.
But when you do get to the good part, boy oh boy are you in for a wild ride. Before I read the Kama Sutra, I thought I was pretty up to speed on things. I mean, I'm not naive. I've seen the Internet. When it comes to bumping uglies people can get fairly creative, even if they are a pair of desperate crack addicts making a sex film to support their habit, sobbing deeply on the inside as their inner child shoots itself in the head. But the crack-addled minds of porn stars and their "directors" have nothing on the Wisdom of the Ages collected in the Kama Sutra.
There is something for everyone in the Kama Sutra. You think I'm exaggerating? Let me describe to you what the Kama Sutra calls "giving a blow." It's not what you think. At all. It's where the woman forcibly yanks the man's wang out of her and fucking punches it. And when you think about it, the way they use the term "blow" in the Kama Sutra makes more sense than it does in common sexual terminology.
How about another example, one that I don't think would be particularly comfortable for any of the parties involved: "When both the legs of the woman are contracted, and placed on her stomach, it is called 'crab's position'." One look at the included illustration revealed that this pretty much means trying to churn her butter while both partners are in the fetal position. Like I said, uncomfortable. But beyond even that is "The Turning Position." From what I can tell, this entails the man, while joined to the woman tighter than a trailer hitch in sub-zero weather, flipping his leg over her, so that his junk points backwards, through his legs. What in all hell is this nonsense. No. Just... no.
Not only are some of the positions purely mind-boggling, but some of the names are as well. Some make sense or are easy to decipher, like "Splitting the Bamboo" or "The Top" (use your imagination, the first thing you think of is probably exactly what it is), there are others that either sound more freakish than they actually are, or make no sense whatsoever. "The Fixing of a Nail", "The Mare's Position", and "Sporting of a Sparrow", just to name a few.
There is even a segment for you "swingers" out there. That's right, the Kama Sutra even gives tips on how to efficiently operate during a wild and crazy orgy. Both the positions "United Congress" and "Congress of a herd of Cows" are dedicated to multiple partner sex, and go into detail about how to properly conduct yourself while attending an orgy.
There isn't much else I can say about the Kama Sutra. Only that I have learned a lot from it (you hear that, ladies?), and will never again doubt that there will always be more sex positions. I give this book a "Dear Lord, women really bend that way?!" out of 10.
Apr 16, 2010
Outdone +1
Today, my mom showed me a blog. This blog is rants about random subjects, using humorous language to induce hearty laughter. And MS Paint illustrations, where words are not enough.
Does this sound familiar to anyone else?
The problem is, her blog has far better MS Paint illustrations. Like, way better. There's even shading and shit. It is because of this, I believe, that she has so many more people who follow her blog than I. That being said, it may also have something to do with the fact that her posts come more often and of a higher quality than my own. I suppose I have something to aspire to, now.
This.
Does this sound familiar to anyone else?
The problem is, her blog has far better MS Paint illustrations. Like, way better. There's even shading and shit. It is because of this, I believe, that she has so many more people who follow her blog than I. That being said, it may also have something to do with the fact that her posts come more often and of a higher quality than my own. I suppose I have something to aspire to, now.
This.
Apr 11, 2010
From the Vault: The Regulation Rap
Also, the first 50 seconds are completely silent. I don't know why. I think we just had more video than music.
And here are the lyrics.
Regulation
Right:
I’m a Senator, born to serve my state,
Let me spell it out for you and articulate,
A day in my life starts at a quarter to eight,
gonna throw down some sick rhymes, now let me dictate.
In order to serve the changing needs of this Nation
We gotta throw down some dope Legislation
But to keep me away from all that earmark Temptation
You gotta have a lot of real strict Regulation
Regulation:
Regulation in the house! And in the senate, too,
I’m here to keep the senators from tryin’ to screw
With your Benjemins, Lincolns, Georges and Andrews,
I monitor their actions, keep them workin’ for you.
Chorus
Legi-Legi-Legi-Legislation,
Misa-Misa-Misappropriation,
Regu-Regu-Regu-Regulation,
Play your cards right or you’re gonna get shot.
Left:
I’m your everyday senator and I self-regulate,
You’re callin’ out Abramhov and Uncle Ted but don’t hate,
I’m here to keep it real and set the record straight,
Those fools aint nothin’, I’m worse than Watergate!
Chillen’ in my office, with my homies every day,
Every shady group with interest, today the NRA,
On and on and on the gifts go:
Home improvements,
Meals,
pizza for my bros.
Cars that aren’t slow,
Cash, a whole load,
Trips on the road,
Stocks which will grow,
Bonds fo’ sho’,
some real Expensive Clothes,
Oil rights to flow,
And Investements, yo.
It’s a two way street, exchanging gifts friend to friend,
In return for this merch my support I’ll extend,
Straight up, it’s my constituency, they’ll be with me till the end
Through that revolving door, someday I’ll be one of them.
Right:
Some lobbyists came in, they’re from the NRA,
They had tons of cool swag they wanted to give away,
Yo, Regu-Regulation why you getting’ in the way?
Regulation:
It’s all in the rules, read up and obey.
Right:
What’s this? Only gifts up to 49.99?
Then where do I go with my Lobby’n homies to dine?
Regulation:
The diner down the street I’ve heard is just fine,
Right: I’m sorry Lobbyist friends, I just don’t have the time.
Chorus
Right:
The Committee on Printing is where we are,
We keep tabs on all documents, near and far,
In this domain, I’m the printing czar,
Look at these margins, they’re in way too far.
Left:
I’m editing this bill and earmarking’s the game,
The NRA told me there’s no reason for shame,
Those fools in appropriations think that I’m lame,
But I’m passing all these riders in the COP name.
Unlike all the bills that are passed out there,
When it comes to printing paper, the man just don’t care,
I be passin’ all these riders like I’m walkin’ on air,
Will my colleagues mess with me, nah, they don’t dare.
We’re sitting here waiting for my bill to get signed,
It sailed through the senate and the house just fine,
Cause to stop the margin bill would be an absolute crime,
So my riders made it through in no real time.
That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout…
Chorus
Left:
I went ahead and I got things done,
Now everybody has the money to buy their own gun,
My lobbyist friends continue to show their appreciation,
You think this is the end, but I’ve only begun.
Cause it’s election time,
Normally I walk the line,
But now with my supporters I’ll be just fine
With my constituency and my PAC’s
I have the all the money I need.
Right:
So it’s election season, and I’m good as done,
Cause the PAC’s won’t give me no funds,
So now I’m gonna leave, and I’m gonna run,
And my constituency all want free guns.
Left:
I may have won by means a little shady,
But that don’t matter, now get over here ladies!
Together we will start a golden new age,
Reporter:
Excuse me Mr. Senator, have you seen the front page?
Left:
They asked me again and again and again,
“Hey Mr. Senator, who are your friends?”
Why didn’t you inform me about these ethics rules, Kevin?
Sir, they’ve been around since 1977.
Aww... Sh…
Sure I’ll sign your book, just give me a sec,
This one’s to Regulation, for keeping me in check.
After not getting elected, a senator’s career doesn’t end,
They get to write tons of books and to make amends.
Chorus x 4
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