Friday, May 28, 2010

Watching "Glee" will make you a bigot

I should qualify that title by admitting that I am a satirical racist, or at least comically insensitive. I once referred to Schindler’s List as “a delightful family romp,” and plan to spend next Halloween as a Bolivian peasant. But it’s my feeling that anyone who has a command of the possessive plural and appositives, such as I’ve shown in this paragraph, also understands the nuance necessary for racism-as-commentary.

That being said, I have never felt such unbridled, venomous hostility for any group as I do the creators of Glee. If you’re not someone’s mom, you might not know that the show is centered on a high school glee club, composed of two Asians, one black girl, one homosexual, an adopted girl with gay parents, and a handicapped kid. Literally. This show has the balls to feature a wheelchair-bound character. And where might such a microcosm of diversity exist? A performing arts school in the Bronx? Any ‘90s sitcom? Nope! It’s Ohio.

In an effort to turn this experience into a teaching tool, I’ve provided a list of ways to tell when Glee is turning you not into a Gleek, but a Gleenophobe:
• You notice that out of all the minority groups depicted, the Indian principal has a thick, evil-sounding accent, like Mickey Rourke in Iron Man 2. Maybe this is some kind of self-aware joke about the hipness of cultural sensitivity. Which would make it almost more terrible.
• When the Meany Madpants Football Players pick on the boy dressed as Gaga-Mozart, you’re kind of on their side. Five or six blows to his smugly flamboyant face would be crackerjack about now!
• During the “Don’t Get an Abortion” serenade, you find yourself actually rooting for the abortion. Just cheering and cheering, hoping that maybe, just maybe, she’ll get a hysterectomy as penance for sleeping with a man who would sing “Beth” by KISS to dissuade her.
• When the hetero lead eventually flips out, calling his newly decorated room “f*ggy” over and over, for the first time you understand the functionality of the word. Holy shit, that lamp does look like a cock! This decorating job blows! Almost as much as the terrible, horrible goblin of a queen who decorated it!

Listen, I went to NYU, too. I grew up in a town full of alternative families and ethnically disparate citizens and very confusing potlucks, and photos from my birthday parties look like a damn inner city mural. So listen to me when I warn: Once Glee has you in its clutches, no pep talk from Mike O’Malley is going to bring you back.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Thursday Mini - Dance Party!

This Thursday, it's all about the dance moves. These videos work best with sound. - Ed.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Fleet Week: a whore's time to shine

If there's any time of year that whores really get to have a field day, it's Fleet Week, which this year falls from May 26-June 2 in New York City. Of course, officially, Fleet Week is about honoring and getting to know our courageous men in uniform who defend our country's waters. There are boat parades and special events at nautical-type museums and some kind of annual tug of war thing. There's even some kind of Broadway showcase this year. I guess because Broadway is so gay. Just like our armed forces.

But really, Fleet Week is about everyone getting laid. It's a celebration and renewal of our relationship with the brave men and women who serve in our armed forces: they protect us, we all get laid on Fleet Week.

Fleet Week is really a slut's time to shine. Fleet Week is to whores as Christmas is to overly cheerful people and St. Patrick's Day is to drunks; It's a time where it's socially acceptable to let that offensive personality trait really come through.

How do you celebrate Fleet Week? Like anyone who's only in town for a few days, Naval and Marine types mostly stick to terrible chain bars and fake Irish pubs in Times Square. The best thing to do is to head for Midtown. Go to any bar in the theater district that starts with "O'." They'll be in white bellbottoms. Wear a low-cut top. Stand there. That oughta do 'er. It's easier than burning a Yule log.

I'll be out of the country for the next week because this stupid boy had to stupid start dating me and wanted to go on a stupid trip, so I'll be missing out. Fuck an extra sailor for me.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Tuesday List - Awful Things About Summer

  • Constantly getting dripped on by rich people's air conditioners
  • Friends threatening to take you camping
  • Ugly dogs with short summer coats
  • Horrible urine smell pervading every corner of New York City
  • Now that local high school is closed, have no idea where to meet women
  • Closest beaches are full of fat old Russians
  • (Bonus Content List - Things That Rock About Summer: Everything else!)

Monday, May 24, 2010


if you're an illegal please close this right now and then report over to the nearest Deportation Station

As we all know, Barack So-Damn-Insane Nobama is currently in the process of sucking our nation dry with the help of his lackeys, the Democrat Party!!! (boo and hiss at your Computer Screen now) And as we all also know, when the "fail-out" package's bill comes knocking it's going to completely destroy the value of our American Dollars.

Do you have a plan for this? How do you expect to buy your family protection when the New World Order comes knocking on your door? They won't take your Ameros, comrade! No, there's only one solution...


That's right, here at GOLD 4 GRANDPARENTS (it always has to be in all caps because REAL AMERICANS don't use inside voices), we're willing to help your elderly make one final sacrifice for their generation. They already flew over to Europe and punched Hitler and his Nazi Socialists (Hmmm... there's that word again, Mr. Obomba.... pretty suspicious) right in their European faces. Save the horrible torture of a DEATH PANEL by trading them in for GOLD today.

How Does It Work?
Simple! Just give us a call on our super patriotic toll free line: 1-800-704-1776. We'll ask you some questions about your grandma or grandpa (military service? highest salary ever paid? minority blood? voting record? birthing hips?), give you an estimate, and then send over our World Class "Grandpappy" Shipping Crate. Simply load up the elderly person (make sure to leave them food, water, and breathing holes) and send it back to us! We pay all the shipping, you get all the profit!!!

But how do I get my gold?
Once your grandparent has arrived at our Top Secret Judging Facility (we keep it very well hidden so the Federal Government can't infringe on our right to not pay taxes), an expert Life Panel will evaluate them based on the information already provided. Once we've completed the process, an expert GOLD 4 GRANDPARENTS agent will drive to your home and deliver the gold into your hands. Trust nobody but us - all others are working for Mr. Barry "President Barack Hussein Obama" Sotero.

What do you do with my grandparent?
Sorry, but the invisible hand of the free market dictates that we don't have to tell you about that!

But, I mean, this doesn't seem like a great business strategy on the surface. What are you honestly doing with all these grandparents?
Look out, I think we've got a Liberal Plant here. Go back to the Huffington Post, you chickenshit city boy. GOLD 4 GRANDPARENTS is providing a service to the hardworking conservative men and women of this once-proud nation, which will rise again. That service is taking their grandparents away and leaving gold.


Thursday, May 20, 2010

Thursday Mini - Slow Down, Mom!

Much like Tuesday is for lists, Thursday is going to be used for things that we believe worth sharing but aren't enough to build an entire article around. Today, enjoy these cartoons edited by J. Schechner. - Editors

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Well, we're back to blogging, with a brand new blog! I'll bet you're thinking "Hey, I wonder what's been happening with these kids during their hiatus!" Well, if your guess was "I'll bet one of them sustained a debilitating knee injury," you're right!

I fell. Playing soccer. I may never play again. Not because I won't be able to, just out of spite. We're not talking wheelchair here. It's more of a temporary cane situation.

There are a lot of disadvantages to needing a cane, as you might guess. Watching old people who are better than you with their canes breeze past you on your painful crawl to your office never feels good. And having to walk down the stairs putting both feet on each step is a flashback to a part of being 3 years old that was just as frustrating now as it was then. But if you've ever wondered if there's anything you can look forward to as you age and become feeble and decrepit, I have good news for you: there are a few fun things about having a cane.

The most obvious is that if you're on the train, you'll always get a seat. Unless the train's full of assholes, which is actually even more fun. Inevitably, a massive 300-pound clod or a self-important middle-aged harpy or a J. Crew-sporting yuppie too busy chortling at the New Yorker cartoons to notice a girl, ahem, with a cane, will elbow past you at the door to take the last seat. Then what you do is look them in the eye, really play up the limp, and stagger past them.

Then brain them with your cane.

What else can you do, you ask? Well, you can stand for long periods of time without discomfort, thanks to leaning on your trusty cane. And you can be nicknamed "Tripod," regardless of penis size or gender. You can attach a magnet to the end of it and pick up spare change without troubling yourself to bend down to get it. The world is your oyster!

Okay, I'm grabbing at straws here. Having a cane is fucking terrible. The only good thing about it is being able to hit people with it.

Welcome to Insufficient Fare, bitch.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Tuesday List - Lame Superpowers

  • Lightning fast tax preparation
  • Ability to get the second-to-last piece of pizza every time
  • Uncanny memory for previous winning lottery numbers
  • Good at chopsticks
  • Always blows out every candle on the birthday cake
  • Ability to sweat through any article of clothing

Monday, May 17, 2010

The Doors Are Now Open

Welcome to Insufficient Fare!

I meant to post this earlier, but I was busy at the IF launch party (me and my cat drinking warm Budweisers and wearing party hats). Normally I'd try to make up some great big mythology about how Insufficient Fare came to be, but I don't really want to. Also, there's a really cute article about babies below this one! Wow! Babies!

So relax, slam us into your RSS reader of choice, and enjoy.