Standing Up For Yourself

2 07 2008

Is the dumbest feckin’ thing you can do—you think this is some old school WB sitcom where the bully can be won over by your “courage” (read: dumbassitude)?


This nerdwad crow in particular could have used my advice.  Mad ignant.  Hank the meathead red-tailed hawk is not to be screwed with in this manner.  He’s not gonna be impressed.  He’ll put up his nictating membrane to shield his razor-sharp eyes—so he’ll barely be able to see what’s going on—and he still won’t give a shit that you’re pecking him stupid.  He waited till this poetry club spaz tired himself out, then casually ripped his bowels out with, like, a single toe.

So the next time you think about challenging an illegitimate regime of oppression and fear-mongering because you listened to the Les Mis original cast recording a few hundred times?  Just cower and worship like you’re told, ya beasting cunts.  And stop singing.   

—Nero    

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With Enemies Like These

29 05 2008

Who needs friends?  I can barely keep my enemies list updated, what with all the backstabbing and douchebaggery and constantly revised revenge plots. Here’s who’s currently getting my dander up—and consequently making innocent dander-allergic third parties suffer.  HOW MANY NASAL PASSAGES MUST YOU INFLAME

Nero’s Enemies List

(in order of who I would punch hardest if I had fists)

—————————————————

1. Edith Wharton (lingering English class antipathy)

2. Maxie (does not deserve to live or, barring that, be more popular than me)

3. Willie Randolph (he knows why)

4. Google Inc. (for reporting my gosling pornography searches)

5. Exterminators (bedbugs didn’t ask to be born, buddy!)

6. Richard M. Nixon

7. The Kingdom of Denmark (enough visa rejections will drive you to violence)

Also, how bout you learn to spell in American

8. Hank the Bullying Hawk (“sharpens” his talons on my back)

9. Fortune cookie fortunes (is it me, or have they gotten more threatening?)

10. The Honorable Judge Winston Busby of the Delaware Court of Chancery (whose title is long and boring)





Hank the Yank

14 05 2008

Those of you presumptuous mammals that thought Hank the secretly insecure hawk was not your problem, take note: no longer is Manhattan’s biggest red-tailed bully limiting himself to a singular abhorrent brand of bird-on-bird violence.

Weirder and wilder still, he’s upping the ante on New York pride. But you wouldn’t know that from the biased Boston Globe account…

A certain New York Yankee slugger should beware: A student taking a tour of Fenway Park today was attacked by a red-tailed hawk that [drew] blood from the girl’s scalp.

Her name: Alexa Rodriguez. Her age: 13, the same jersey number the Yankee third baseman wears.

“She’s fine, a little shaken, but OK,” said Vince Jennetta, a teacher who chaperoned Rodriguez’s class trip from Memorial Boulevard Middle School in Bristol, Conn.

As a goose that knows Hank well, I think I can shed a little light on this incident. Hank, like most assholes in the area, is actually a die-hard Yankee supporter. It’s so like him to fly all the way to Beantown just to talon up a New England girl who dared to have a name and age vaguely linking her to his beloved third baseman. This is what I’m saying people, the guy is disturbed. He’s a menace. And as glad as I am to see humans getting picked on, I’m too scared to wear my Mets cap.





After-School Extra-Special

22 04 2008

Perfect. As soon as I get to Manhattan for the season, I find out that this douchebag red-tailed hawk named Hank thinks he owns the place and routinely demands “tribute” from any “pussy” birds roosting on the island. What am I, back in high school?

Hank forces mortified human family to witness evisceration of beloved pet cockatoo

Here’s what’s up, Hank: we all know that inside you’re some crybaby brat that had a messed up childhood and craves love. Probably your mom preened you till you were way too old for it. Whatever. Maybe if anyone gave a shit about your emotional health we would deal with that. But instead we’re just going to keep telling you where the weak squirrels are hiding so you can pick them off without all the wingwork. We’ll cave to your every bullying demand, denying you any catharsis whatsoever. No one will ever love you, and you’ll die alone, so fucking alone, wondering why no one stood up to you and turned your life around.  Sad, right?

No.  No one will be sad.