I've never had a meth habit, I don't walk around naked, and unless I'm actively provoked, I'm generally polite and well-spoken.

I've never had a meth habit, I don't walk around naked, and unless I'm actively provoked, I'm generally polite and well-spoken.

I prefer for a woman's most private of areas to have as much hair as Carlos Santana's entire band, head to toe, circa 1972.

You truly need to witness me goo-gooing and coo-cooing and making up goofy little songs to glean a full appreciation of how nauseating I can be. This is another instance where things seemingly don't add up - how can this vile, hateful, violent, misogynist, racist, loathsome, repugnant, worthless, reprehensible subhuman be so insanely tender and kind to little doggies and kitty-cats?

Here's an easy one: "Race is an entirely social construct." No, it's partially one, depending on how any given society seeks to define it and its implications. But there are basic things such as skin color and hair texture. Even a Martian who'd had no exposure to human "social constructs" would be able to spot those differences. But no Martian, as hard as he tried, could point at a "culture" or to "equality." Those are the social constructs. Those can't be measured in the same way as human DNA.

In contrast to how my father treated me, I won't hit him, I won't call him evil, I'll give him affection, and I'll pay attention to him.

I'm developing a mild rash at the idea of "plugging" anything, because it's not how I roll.