Q-R-S-T-Jew-V

I'm telling you: They sneak themselves into everything. Even the alphabet.

But enough anti-Semitism. Even though it's totally in right now, due to Israel's invasions and Mel Gibson's tirades, it's only in for 1 or 2 jokes a night. I need to spread this out to fall, when all the big designers release next season's trends. I'm hoping to blaspheme some kind of Oriental race, but I know the hot topic's going to be Mexicans again, given congressional elections. Ugh. That was so spring. At least I can always count on Leno for a hilarious Arabic turban joke. They wear towels on their heads! Ha! I get it! They're so different!

If you can't tell, I'm trying to be satirical. In real life I don't mock entire races. I only mock members of races in specific towns, e.g. blacks in Brown Deer, Wisconsin. And I don't as much mock them as I do hate them. Stop walking across the middle of high-speed roads! It doesn't matter what time of the day I'm driving through Brown Deer, there's always a black man waiting on the side of the street until my car gets close so that he can start walking in front of me at a non-intersection. This has happened at least 5 times, which is more than enough to support a stereotype. I honked at "one of them" today, trying to give him a scare, but of course the liberal blogosphere has already attacked me by pointing out that there actually was a walkpath for this man. The one time I make a mistake and everyone wants to jump on me for it. Please, I'm trying to secure the roads for all drivers of all races. My aggressive gesture was necessary, and although it misfired upon an innocent, it does not in any way suggest I should stop honking. Besides, that "innocent" guy was black, and they're not as good as us.

Satire alert again! Phew. Writing satire is like eating a thick gouda. It really starts to weigh heavy inside of you and make you feel gassy. I'm sure you readers feel somewhat similarly on your end, so here's a glass of absurd skit to wash it all down with:

Hardware Store

Scene 1

BOB (to clerk): I'm looking at a couple of those ladders up there. I really like the length of the first one, but I'm also attracted to the color of the second.
CLERK: Well, which do you prefer? The former or the latter?
BOB: I already told you I wanted a ladder!

Scene 2

BOB: I don't think I want this toilet anymore.
CLERK: What? You were just about to buy it!
BOB: Yeah, but that was a couple of minutes ago.
CLERK: What's changed since then?
BOB: All the urine in my bladder evaporated. Now I don't need a toilet anymore!

Scene 3

BOB: My mom once told me that comedians either go to heaven or kill their wives. Which do you think it is?
CLERK: I don't really see why the choice is only between those two fates, but I'd like to believe the first option.
BOB: Then why do you keep trying to sell me the ladder!

Climbing the Hollywood latter.

I hope you enjoyed that brief passage of levity, for I would like to end in memoriam today. I've written an elegy for E3 (the electronic entertainment expo), which has recently been dissolved. Best wishes to you all in these difficult times, and mozzeltoff.

Oh E3; you were a part of me.
I was like a chip inside your huge robotic brain.
What you taught, I learned,
Through your robotic circulatory system.

Now.
Rhyme.

I learned about Guitar Hero 2, upon your hallowed floors.
I learned the PS3 would cost me more than 40 whores.
I learned that Spore would let me be the king of my own world.
I learned I had a baby, and I learned it was a girl.

Rest In Pixels.