Thursday, October 19, 2006

The Most Offensive Post Ever.....

Really. Read no further.

This is coming from the guy who mocked his son's, best friend's, best worker's, best winemaker's, and best step-child's boss as a tiny-dicked, abusive Texan fuckhead......until the above-mentioned made me delete the post.

Anyway....this is worse. Even Amanda gasped at first.......and Amanda has been both a North Hollywood fag-hag AND a Temple-Invite Mormon supplicant.

So.....if you are a bride catching up on your caterer's food blog.....tune out. If you are someone that wants to come to the Cachagua Store and partake of happiness on Mondays.....come back next week.

If you are my new African friends who are checking in to see what I wrote about you being shit-canned at the door of David Fink's new restaurant, just because you are black.......Tuesday.....I promise. It is complicated: Carmel was put on the map by people from Oakland who were also despised by the locals: Jack...uh, named for a capital city in Europe......uh, Jack Paris? Jack Berlin? Oh, no! Jack London........He of the working class background and the loose morals, and weird artistic friends......So, don't feel bad that some over-hyped, over-priced, piece of crap faux-Italian dive built on the ashes of the enduring Carmel coke-whore restaurant of all time should turn you away.......Really.

Chris Rock's mom just got shit-slammed at Cracker Barrel in South Carolina.......The first question that pops into MY mind: "Why is Chris Rock's MOM eating at a place called CRACKER BARREL?" Cantinetta, by modus ponens is the Carmel equivalent of Cracker Barrel.


I don't abide homophobes lightly. I don't want to go to far into it, a father of four, and as a four or five time failed husband....I swear to you I would be happy if any of my kids curled up in a lasting relationship with........a man, a woman, a cat, a horse, a dog......or a fucking computer. Whatever blows your dress up.

This outlook is independent of, but re-inforced by, the reality that both my dearly beloved ex-brother, Rob (gone to lung cancer), and my not so dearly beloved Dad, Roger, are/were gay. There are enough problems in life without trying to regulate sexuality.

There is this guy Rick Santorum, who is a Senator from Pennsylvania......a state (actually a Commonwealth) originally settled by folks who basically wanted to not be fucked with. Senator Santorum has recently and repeatedly equated gay sexual activity with "man on dog" and "dog on woman" (which tell you all you need to know about his attitudes towards women). And dogs......"Here, Sparky! Wanna treat?"

Santorum is also the kind of guy who insisted on bringing home the "tissue" involved in his wife's pray over it with his family, you see...before burial. He also charged his home state for his kids internet home-schooling in another state....well, nevermind.

So.....on to the offensive part.

Our new intern, Sam.....a fugitive from Stanford Sophomore College......let me know tonight that his gay friends in the East are trying to equate the word "santorum" with the (here comes the offensive part): "frothy brown substance that consists of equal parts feces, semen and lube........"

By the rules of the Oxford English become part of our ever-changing language, a term of usage must be used in a publicly available medium......possibly only two or three times. Something like........say, a blog. goes: I am a great admirer of Robert Mapplethorpe's photography. I much perfer his work with flowers, and I am eternally grateful that in his more graphic sexual images he allowed his models to wipe of the santorum from their bodies before he seized the image.

Peace. Love. Tie-dye. Have a nice day, Sen. Santorum. Love you, Rob. You, too, Pops.


Blogger Brian said...

Dear Michael,
This time it would seem you are back in brown. You need not look to the East for the origin of the term "santorum". It is the creation of Seattle resident Dan Savage, whose weekly syndicated sex advice column, "Savage Love", is carried by our local alternative news rag, The Stranger, as well as the Village Voice. He is a happily partnered gay man with a legally adopted son, and like you, a severely lapsed Irish Catholic. You may wish to read his columns online some of which may be found here:

And while I find your prose of equal entertainment value when it comes to outrage you will have to keep working hard to equal him in the outrageous department, sexual matters lending themselves to outrage far more frequently than culinary ones however frothy.


11:36 PM  

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