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Skippy's Guide to Life and Eternal Happiness
The Olympics Column
Hey kids!
Skippy here again, welcoming you to our inaugural issue of
SCROOMtimes, the on-line magazine that eats like a meal. You know folks, I
didn't want to write an Olympics column. I figure that you, my loyal
minions, my ever-lovin' skipbots expect more from me than a tired old
Olympics rant. It's all been said a thousand times and a thousand ways, too
commercial, too many pros, too this, too that, it all gets tedious after the
first five minutes or so. I am however, going to write an Olympics column of
a sort. Something happened at the Olympics that changed my mind. Some
pathetic, cheapjack, friendless little loser decided it would be a great
idea to explode a bomb in a park filled with people. That is the reason I've
decided to write about the Olympics.
As I write this, the main suspect is the rent-a-cop who found the bomb.
I've smacked my head against the wall a couple of hundred times so that I
could experience the way his mind must work. I see his thinking like this,
"If'n I put the bomb in the park and then find it and get everbody out the
way afore it blows up, then I'll be a heero and no one will ever know what a
shitheap I really is!" Now your average, garden variety product of
inbreeding would probably have built a false bomb, one that might explode
but wouldn't do any actual damage. Not our guy though, he figured that if he
was really going to be a hero, then there had to be a real threat. So he
filled his coffee can with nails and screws and other things that turn
lethal when propelled by explosives. That way when he found it and it was
defused, everyone could tell him what a wonderful guy he was and maybe even
buy him a drink, cause that's what they do to heroes, he knows cause he saw
it on TV. So you see, I figure he never planned on anyone getting hurt by
his little escapade and he certainly didn't plan on anyone dying. He
basically is just such an absolute moron he couldn't pull off his half-baked
scheme with any more competence than he handled the rest of his waste of a
life.
I'd like to tell you about the woman that this poor excuse for a man
killed with his little toy. I think that no matter what happens in this,
it's more important to remember the victim than it is to publicize the goofy
little swine that did the deed. Her name was Alice Hawthorne, she was a wife
and mother. She was at Centennial Park that evening with her daughter
Fallon. The trip to the Olympics was one of Fallon's birthday presents,
Fallon was injured in the explosion that killed her mother. By all accounts,
Mrs. Hawthorne had not led a remarkable life. You are not going to see the
networks bidding to bring her story to television. She was a veteran of the
Army, she worked a couple of jobs, she ran her own small business. If you
stop and think for a moment, you probably know about half a dozen people
like her. People that do what needs to be done and don't expect much
fanfare. The sort of people that tend to be forgotten when we talk about
what makes this country great. Yet Alice Hawthorne and the millions like her
are just the people that make this country what it is, good people who will
help if they can. I would rather have one Alice Hawthorne than all of the
supposed leaders running this country today. I have a feeling that she would
have just seen a problem and gone to work on it, because if she didn't who
would?
All of my regulars know that I am a liberal, I make no bones about it.
The reason I want to state it again is to let everyone know where it is I'm
coming from. I think they should give whoever did this disgusting act a fair
and just trial. After that, if he is found guilty, we should lock them in a
room with bomb set to go off in one to six hours. With any luck at all, the
miserable scum will have the full six to think things over before the nails
and screws blow his sorry head off. Now I'm not thinking deterrence or
justice or revenge, no, I'm thinking evolution. If we allow this slimy
little geek to live, I can guarantee you that somewhere there is a woman
with an even worse self-image than his. This sorry woman will want to have
his baby. When you put the two of these Darwinian rejects together the best
you can hope for is infertility. We won't be that lucky though. No, they
will reproduce and have little stupid children who will grow up to do more
stupid things, just like dear old dad. That's the best argument for capital
punishment you'll ever hear folks, get these damaged menaces out of the gene
pool for good.We are not talking crime and punishment, we are taliking
survival of the species. If we can do it in a way that makes the useless
jackoff suffer a little, then all the better.
What I really hope is that the media and all of us just ignore this
sleazy little criminal. It doesn't matter what we do to him, if we do it on
the six o'clock news he'll be happier than a pig in slop. No, let's strike
this doofus from our public consciousness forever. A year from now, when we
think about this cowardly gesture that darkened the games. Let it be in fond
remembrance of Alice Hawthorne, devoted wife and mother. Let it not be about
some borderline mental defect who doesn't deserve even our contempt.
Skippy
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