As Much As I Would Like To, I Do Not Hate Hentai (Part 3)

You know, a few years ago today some nasty ca-ca hit the fan and we were smacked with an endlessly televised sucker-punch to our liberal and democratic western society. We got kicked in the balls, and the barrage of tacky plastic flags, ridiculous jingoistic assholes spouting that anyone with skin darker than a Wonderbread loaf should “GO BACK TO MEXICO, CAMEL JOCKEY”, not to mention the gratingly endless period of time where no one was allowed to call a certain utterly useless public servant the way they saw him. But it's all in the past, and it's time for us to move along. As that one song by that one band with the fucking stupid name went, “I get knocked down, but I get up again"” and following that we proceeded to “drink a whiskey drink, drink a vodka drink”, not to mention drinking a “lager drink” and took off on several “seemed like a good idea after a few pints” expeditions to drunkenly beat the sand out of several middle eastern nations before collapsing in a puddle of our own vomit.

Where oldschool God would totally bless a nation by smiting nonbelievers with fire and brimstone, newschool God seems to be intent on sprinkling fairy dust on the flag. Fuckin' sellout.

SEE, SEE?! MY MAC'S MOUSE DOES TOO HAVE A SECOND BUTTON!
But, on this particular day, let's not dwell on the negative. I imagine every channel on the television is doing that quite servicably, rerunning that footage we've watched ten trillion times all day and going on and on about HOW THE WORLD HAS CHANGED and WHERE WERE YOU ON SEPTEMBER ELEVENTH and STOCK MARKETS PLUNGE, SHORTAGE OF COMMEMORATIVE PLATES AND OSAMA TOILET PAPER. Disecting another terrible manga about little girls giving stool samples for less-than-medical purposes just doesn't seem kosher amidst all this doom and gloom. We need some positivity, holmes! It's a wonderful thing to live where, despite everything, we can go out and amass enormous, encyclopedic archives of cartoon smut, much more than any mortal man could possibly spurt to. That's what being a Godless heathen infidel is all about, and that's the kind of thing we all want to protect but can't, really. See, we have asthma and, well, mom wrote us this note excusing us. I don't think we can play dodgeball with the rest of the class. Can we spend the rest of the period in the Computer Lab?

If you love your nipples, treat them to some NIPPLE GEL.
Do terrorists have nipples? We've don't seen them without shirts on, so it's hard to say, but my money is on no. It's not important if the guys have nipples, they can do without them, although it must be awfully irritating to them that their lifestyle choice leads them to a life without those little bumps that give us so much pleasure. Their ladies, however? You never see any decent Fundamentalist Islamic porn, and they make their women dress up in those awful burkas, so we can only assume they're trying to avoid looking at their mates' terrible nippless voids. It's easy to see now why they dislike us so much and perform so much terroristing and attempted terroristing on our persons; our wonderful nipples are symbols of our affluence, our decadence, and they want a piece - preferrably affixed to large, supple, firm mounds of fat.


