Yeah, I Said It Read online

  What have we learned from our space travels? Seriously? What have we learned or discovered that affects our daily lives? Nothing. We’re spending billions of dollars in outer space for what? Why don’t we spend just half of that to find out who shot Tupac?

  I don’t give a damn about space travel. I don’t even have a passport, so you know I don’t give a fuck about the weather on Mars. Shit, I’m not leaving the country, get caught up in a coup. Whenever they do discover something, the vast majority of us have no idea what it means. “Scientists discovered today that stars can be consumed by a black hole.” What? Sounds like a report about Lil’ Kim to me. “NASA discovered that an area of Mars was once drenched in water.” And? Even the news anchor who reports the story don’t know what the hell they’re talking about. When it comes to that shit, they are just reading the TelePrompTer. Even Peter Jennings has that blank stare when it comes to that space shit.

  Approximately twenty percent of Americans currently own a passport, so why are we dicking around in space? Ain’t no happy Mars movies. Star Trek went there and shit went bad. I do believe that there is life on other planets. I also believe that we are the dumbest creatures in the universe. The Fox network is proof positive. I bet they don’t dare have shows like The Littlest Groom or The Swan on Neptune.

  I bet our Opportunity Rover is on the Martian news. “Those simple earthlings are at it again.” To them, our rover is probably like the mosquitoes and the West Nile virus to us. “We’re going to have to spray again.”

  Gay Marriages

  It’s spreading. The gays are going marriage crazy across the country. Massachusetts passed a law legalizing gay marriages. Also in San Francisco gay couples were lined up for miles because the mayor was issuing marriage licenses for same-sex couples. So now President Bush, under pressure from the conservatives, and needing any distraction to get our focus off the shit he’s got us in, put his foot down and proposed a constitutional amendment to ban same-sex marriages. The president starts another attack, the war on the nuptials of Sam and Greg.

  Bush said the amendment to define marriage as only between a man and a woman would “fully protect marriage.” I don’t think marriage needs to be protected from same-sex couples. The biggest threat to marriage is divorce. Divorce is kicking marriage’s ass. Divorce is what ruined my marriage, not Stacy and Anna getting hitched. Most marriages end in divorce. If Bush and the Christian conservatives really want to protect marriage they should propose a constitutional amendment to ban divorce. Divorce is in direct opposition of their Christian beliefs more so than gay marriages. When you get married, and it’s from the Bible, they say, “What has been joined by God let no man put asunder.” See? Marriage should be like the Mafia—once you’re in, you’re in. Ban divorce. The murder rate would go up, but the institution of marriage would be strong and healthy. They’re all just a bunch of hypocrites.

  If you’re not gay and you don’t want to marry someone of the same sex, why do you care? Yet still in the twenty-first century people are trying to put a ban on things that don’t even affect them. Remember those people who wanted to ban gangsta rap? They don’t listen to the music, so why do they care? You never saw Tipper Gore riding in her Escalade sitting on spinning rims, with the seat set way back bumping to some Ice Cube. “Naw Al, I’m not feeling this new Cube.” The same thing goes for the same-sex marriage law. If you’re not a gender sleeping with the same gender, what makes this issue affect you to the point of making signs and marching to ban it? I’d only put that much effort into an issue if there were something in it for me. “What? They want to ban the sale of alcohol after ten o’clock? Where’s my damn sign? I’m gonna go protest right after I sober up.”

  I’m so sick of these busybodies like Gary Bauer who are going around the country trying to ban gay marriages. Why do you care? Are you really losing sleep, tossing and turning at night in your bed because Bob and Jim are getting married? Why do you care, unless you were planning on fucking Bob or Jim? “That Jim is hot; now he’s off the market.” Somehow gay couples being married affects their straight marriage. What, are you afraid that gays are going to be more successful in their marriages? Your wife is going to throw it in your face. “Dave and Jake are so happy. They never argue.” And you’re thinking, Yeah, well, if you let me fuck you in the ass a couple of times maybe we’d communicate a little better, too. I’m sure that’ll cheer things up around here.

  The lame argument that they use is that marriage is a sacred union that is meant to be between only a man and a woman. By recognizing any other union, like a same-sex couple, it will desecrate the holy institution of marriage. I don’t think the only prerequisite for a legal marriage should be that it has to be between a man and a woman. If you want to make marriage sacred, you need to be even more selective. Like, where the hell were Bauer and the protestors when Liza Minelli married David Guest? Y’all should’ve been out there trying to stop that shit, too.

  It seems to me that the conservatives are hung up on the word “marriage.” I say, let them keep marriage. It’s just a word, terminology. Gays just want their union to be legally recognized across the country. What they really want are the same benefits that marriage offers, which in my opinion are none. So gay couples should just come up with a word other than marriage that means the same thing. Hell, come up with something that’s better than marriage. Call it Mardi Gras! “I just got my invitation to Carol and Janet’s Mardi Gras.” Come on, who don’t like a good Mardi Gras? You can’t be mad about that. “Jake and Lester been Mardi Gras’d for thirty years.” Don’t let a word get in the way of your rights. Mardi Gras would be perfect. Gays love a good parade; have your Mardi Gras on a float. Give each other matching Mardi Gras beads. Write your own Mardi Gras vows. It will catch on. “Is this her first Mardi Gras?” “No, this is her second. She has three kids from a previous Mardi Gras.”

  A Mardi Gras would be wonderful. You don’t have to subject your best friend to all that damn planning and inconvenience. No one has to worry about what to wear that day. Just come to party. You don’t have to remember some unimportant words you spent the night before trying to memorize. Married couples would look at gays in complete jealousy. It’s like married couples have to live up to the standards of what everyone thinks marriage should be.

  Recently Married Person: Damn, I gotta go to the in-laws for Thanksgiving. I hate going over there. They’re always pressuring me about how much money I make and about having children.

  Recently Mardi Gras’d Person: Well, since our parents rejected us because we’re gay, why don’t we have Thanksgiving together with all of our other rejected friends? We can all get drunk and go out dancing until the early morning.

  Recently Married Person: Damn, I wish I had a Mardi Gras.

  He He He

  The first time I saw George W., there was something about him that I didn’t like right out of the gate. His laugh. The president shouldn’t laugh like a villain. The man laughs like he just tied somebody to the railroad tracks. Now it all makes sense. Haliburton, tax cuts for the wealthy, his buddy Ken Lay skipping away from the Enron fiasco, the lies, losing millions of jobs, the war…he tied us to the tracks.

  What’s in the Cabinet?

  We should’ve known the trouble that was ahead of us just from some of George W.’s cabinet appointments. It was like a bad joke. Let’s start with the environment. Bush appointed Christine Todd Whitman head of the EPA. No wonder they’ve managed to lower the emissions standards. The governor of New Jersey is head of the Environmental Protection Agency. Do you know how dirty New Jersey is? I mean, I’m sorry, but you drive through New Jersey, you’re gonna get a lump in your breast. Better get a mammogram at the toll. They should have a mammogram booth right next to the E-Z Pass lane. “That’ll be two-forty, and put your titty on the counter.”

  I knew we were headed far to the right when Bush appointed John Ashcroft attorney general. The “compassionate conservative” went right out the window with Ashcroft.
He just looks mean. Women and our right to choose were going to be challenged with Ashcroft around. When Bush appointed Ashcroft, I went out and got me four abortions. I stocked up. The doctor was like, “Listen, you’re not pregnant.” I said, “Hey, just shut up and do your job. I’m exercising my right while I can, dammit.”

  Condoleezza Rice, the national security advisor—I knew that was a problem right there. Come on now, you know a black woman can’t keep no secrets. She was probably at the beauty parlor just tellin’ all of our business. “I can’t be in here all day. We’re bombing Iraq at two. Just give me a press and curl. I want to look cute when we put our foot up Saddam’s ass.”

  Approval Rating

  During the early part of his term Bush enjoyed a seventy percent approval rating. The majority of us were satisfied with the job that the president was doing. Which makes sense to me, because he pretty much did everything I expected him to do. The economy is in the toilet. We’re at war, and everything’s on fire. He’s met all my expectations. I have no complaints. He’s right on target in my book.

  We have such low expectations of our president. We let Bush get away with shit, lying and poor grammar. I think there are quite a few Americans who just feel like no matter what he does, we gotta get behind him. You don’t pick on the slow kid. You don’t do that. You don’t boo at the Special Olympics. It’s not nice. They’re all winners. It’s like when you don’t say anything when the retarded kid eats his ice cream with a fork. You just let them enjoy their ice cream.

  Didn’t Get the Memo

  It’s been over two years and we’re still waiting for the findings of the World Trade Center investigation. Who knew what? Could it have been prevented? What did he know? Basically, how did we fuck up? Everybody really wants to know: What did the president know before 9/11? Absolutely nothing. Remember, he didn’t get smart until after 9/11. You can’t hold him responsible for stuff that was going on back then. He wasn’t paying attention during the briefings; he was probably busy coloring or something, unaware of the world around him: “Doo-

  doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo.” “You want to listen up, Mr. President?” “Uh-uh, I’m busy, oh, go ahead. I want to finish this one. I think it might make the fridge. Hey look, Dick, I stayed in the lines this time.”

  We’re not going to get to the truth because nobody wants to admit it when they screw up. Nobody, not the FBI, CIA, NSA, the White House, but they all screwed up. Instead of admitting it, they say, “Well, you know, there is no way in the world we could have imagined 9/11 happening. No way in the world. It was beyond our wildest imaginations.” Then later on, here comes Coleen Rowley, the FBI whistle-blower, and we find out about all of these damn memos. Highly trained FBI agents were on it; they wrote memos like, “There are Middle Eastern men who have affiliations with radical fundamentalist Islamic groups and activities connected to Osama Bin Laden, taking flying lessons and they are skipping all of the classes on landing.” You’d think that would’ve raised an eyebrow. Agents were damn near coming right out and saying, “I think this dude wants to fly a plane into the World Trade Center.” But the higher-ups still said, “Well, there’s no way in the world we could have predicted 9/11.” What? They are acting like the memos were written by Miss Cleo.

  Cocky

  When Operation Shock and Awe began over Iraq, George W. Bush was cocky. He couldn’t start that war fast enough. When that statue of Saddam fell down in Baghdad, he was probably dancing around the Oval Office going, “Four more years, four more years!” He wasn’t scared of shit. He landed a fighter jet on an aircraft carrier. He kissed Africans with AIDS. He didn’t give a damn! “Bring those AIDS lips over here. Here’s some money; go cure that shit.” He let the real cowboy come out, wearing a ten-gallon hat, spurs, and six-shooters up in the United Nations, just acting a fool, guns blazing, “I don’t need no stinking votes.”

  He’s bombing everything. He’s just waiting for North Korea to do something. He would love to get in their ass. He’s just begging for it, like, “Please, please fuck up. I need another distraction from the economy.” He’s like black people in line just waiting for someone to cut in front of them. “Aw, please, do it, I wish you would.”

  The War

  When you look at it, the war was pretty much written like a comic book. Our hero is out to avenge his father’s defeat. That shit was personal. Saddam put a hit out on his dad when he was in office. I don’t blame GW. If you mess with my dad, I’ll whup your ass, too. However, I wouldn’t lie to all of my cousins and friends to get them involved, too.

  Me: He tried to kill my daddy!

  Cousin: What? You should kick his ass.

  Me: Uh-huh…yeah…I should.…Uh…he said he was gonna try to kill your daddy, too.

  Cousin: What?! Let’s fuck him up!

  Me: Okay. I got your back.

  That’s what Bush did. He was like, “Oh, you tried to kill my father? I will blow up your whole shit.” Then he lied to us to get us on board. He told us that Saddam was going to kill us, and our daddies.

  The whole war was playing out like a comic book. Our hero goes after the villain, they fight, our hero wins, but the villain gets away. Damn you, Saddam! Then there was the sequel, The Search for Saddam. As usual, the sequel stinks. We didn’t get the bad guys. Bin Laden got away; we couldn’t find Saddam. What pissed me off was when we couldn’t find him they tried to appease us with a bunch of lovely parting gifts. The deck of Iraq’s Most Wanted. What is that bullshit? Every day they were finding an eight of diamonds or a queen of hearts. That hand sucks! Do you really give a damn about the ten of clubs? “Oh look, we got the four of spades. That’s Saddam’s third-grade math teacher; isn’t this wonderful? You can’t be an evil dictator without knowing your fractions.” “Hey everybody, the two of hearts, we found her. It’s the shampoo girl. She’s behind his hair. His hair is evil.” I wanted the Joker. This deck is marked.

  I was shocked when we found Saddam hiding in his filthy hole like a lil’ bitch. When you know people are coming after you, you don’t wait around for them. And we kept telling him, “We comin’, we comin’.” Why did he wait around? I mean, I missed three car payments one time. I knew the repo man was coming. Do you think I parked in my driveway? Hell no!! I hid my shit in a tree in Seattle. With that kinda warning Saddam should’ve been nowhere near Iraq. He should’ve been in some beachfront condo with a drink in hand, watching all the bombing on a wide-screen TV, like “Aw, damn, shit, not my palace!! I just put a new roof on that shit! Aw, he’s fucking me up!! That Bush is crazy! Look at my shit! Run, Uday, run, Qusay! Aw, damn! I can’t take it. Osama, roll that weed up, man. I can’t watch this shit.” Osama’s firing up a fatty, saying, “Man, I told you not to fuck with Bush. Tried to warn your ass. Did you see what he did to my cave? Did you see my cave? Now the shit is just dirt.”

  It was personal. I believe Bush’s former secretary of the treasury, Paul O’Neill, when he said that George W. wanted to go after Saddam as soon as he stepped foot in the White House. He probably didn’t even unpack, he just started making plans to get Saddam. Richard Clarke, the former counterterrorism official, claims that Bush was so focused on invading Iraq that he didn’t pay enough attention to Al Qaeda. He wanted Saddam. He was trying to figure out how he was going to get it by us. First it was:

  Him: Saddam is in violation of UN sanctions.

  Us: Let the UN work it out.

  Him: Uh, Saddam kicked the inspectors out of Iraq.

  Us: Well, because they were spying on him. Let the inspectors go back in.

  Him: Uh, Saddam has weapons of mass destruction.

  Us: Let the UN inspectors keep looking.

  Him: Uh, we can’t wait.

  Us: Yes we can.

  Him: He’s an imminent threat!

  Us: Prove it.

  Him: Fuck y’all. We’re going in.

  We go to war; no, we attack Iraq. Can’t find any weapons of mass destruction.

  Him: Uh, Saddam is an evil dic
tator. We are liberating Iraq.

  Us: Liberators? Where’s the WMDs?

  I would have respected Bush more if he would’ve just come right out and said, “All right, we gonna bomb Saddam because I just don’t like his ass.”

  Whack-a-Mole

  Is it just me, or did you notice it, too? When we found Saddam hiding in that little hole, he looked like he was not fazed by it all. I was checking out the footage of him being examined by the military doctor. Saddam looked as if he was more concerned about his health than the deep pile of shit he was in. He was rubbing his throat like, “Yeah, Doc, it’s a little sore. I hope I’m not getting that flu that’s going around.”

  Iraqi Freedom

  I gotta be honest. I really could give two shits about Iraqi freedom. Has it changed your life? Is your hot water any warmer? When you wake up in the morning, do you feel the Iraqi freedom? Does your food taste better now? It ain’t free over there, especially for women. Women are still getting their ass kicked over there. I bet the day the Saddam statue came down a woman was out there celebrating her new Iraqi freedom, got caught up in the excitement, and hugged a man who wasn’t related to her and she got shot in the head. “I’m free.” Bang! “Aw, shit. I fucked up.”

  The way it looks to me, the Iraqis are free. Free to sweep up that blown-up country of theirs. Free to sleep under the stars at night.

  You’d think with all this Iraqi freedom that we would get a little relief from the gas prices. I paid $2.40 for a gallon of gas yesterday. That’s too high! And I drive an SUV ’cause I’m short; I like to sit up high. It’s a big car. I burn up eight gallons just opening the door. I turn on the radio and burn up half a tank. I can actually hear my ride burp.