Flipping through cable channels a few nights ago, I couldn't help but notice that all these newfangled comedians and performers sure like to use cuss words. Every other sentence out of their mouths either had a f*ck or a c***s***er or a sh*t or a g*d d*mn b**ch b*sk*t coming out of it. I mean, what the f*ck is up with that m*th*r f*c*ing sh*t? I think that it's plain f*ck*ng rude. Who raised these entertainers to use such horrible g*d d*mn language anyway? Their a**h*le parents? In my opinion, the use of profane language in public is wrong and more importantly, I don't feel that the first f*ck*ng amendment in our c*cks*ck*ng constitution protects it. Should you be allowed just to yell anything you want at any time on any public medium? F*ck no.

This one comedian came on the television and all he could talk about was how he and his girlfriend liked to perform strange sex acts. He said she liked to take a large black c**kb*ll d**do and wipe her ***** *** ***** j**ce all over it and then take a big sh*t all over his c***t. Then he said he would probably enjoy all of that if she wasn't his cousin. Where's the joke in that? I think that kind of f*ck*ng humor lacks the kind of decency that should rule and used to rule our public airwaves. What ever happened to that c*cks*ck*r Shelly Berman or that a**pr*ck Steve Allen? Those guys knew how to tell jokes that every wholesome American b**t**db*tch could enjoy!

Oh, sure, I suppose there's a place for that kind of potty mouth. But these shows I witnessed were televised on basic cable. I'm pretty sure that's where the youth of today learns all these terrible words. Just the other day, the f*ck*ng neighbor b*st**d kid called me a b*******king t*ts*ck; then made a gesture with his hand and groin that made me feel sorry for his teachers and parents. Would he make that sort of gesture to his d****eb*tch c*m***king grandmother? I sure hope the f*ck not.

Let's face it people, it's time to clean up our acts. If not for the sake of public decency; then at least for our p******cked little b*st**d children. So go f**k yourself.

© Mark Lindquist

I write about fifty columns a year. So on average, once a week, every year, I have some deadline to meet. If you're gonna try write one of these things once a week; then it's a good plan to have a lot of unfinished ideas and half written jokes lying around to resort to when you need a little clever brainstorming. But there also comes a time each year when you need a clean slate on which to create. You gotta clean it up, wipe it off, and start over. I must tell you though, there's always a few of these half-done columns I really wish I could have finished. So around the holidays, I like to share the three best of my worst ideas just to begin anew for the New Year. Why should I act so selfish with my own mediocrity?

Unfinished Column One: I tried to quit smoking recently. Thinking that would make for a funny column, I woke up early on day one of my new non-nicotine life and sat at my desk with a hot cup of fresh coffee. Within twenty minutes I gave up on the column and sucked down about four Old Golds in succession and concession. Total defeat. I need this city to pass and enforce a smoking ban in all work places known as: MY DESK. I have the will power of a crack whore...at 1 A.M...on crack...whoring...on the corner of Crack Street and Whore Avenue. Nothing more came mind for that column. My lack of will power seems very sad on paper.

Unfinished Column Two: Japanese Horror Porn! It's all the rage in Tokyo. Horror movies (my favorite genre of film) mixed with porno (my sixth most favorite genre of film). Hot Asian B-actresses doing naughty things with so-so scary monsters with not so good special effects. Where do I sign up for this worldly adult Romper Room?!? Apparently, I signed up somewhere because I received promotional copies of Entrails of a Virgin and its sequel, Bride of the Entrails of a Virgin. With subtitles! Porn with subtitles. I'm the luckiest little boy at the barn dance! Yeah, I watched/read them. Not a proud moment. But hey, I must admit, if I can someday land one decent paying writing job; then I truly hope it's writing dialogue for Japanese Horror Porn. My family who put me through college would glow with pride upon seeing that in the credits. I could hand out DVD copies for Christmas. Hey grandma, you know the part where the vampire blood-slut tea-bags my seventh grade home economics teacher, yeah, I wrote that. Could you put that in the family scrapbook? No? Then let's not write a column about it either.

Unfinished Column Three: In April, my writing took on some major ambition. I had started a long series of ancient fantasy fiction. The main character was the tragic hero son of a deity. With his strange powers, he convinces a rag tag bunch of revolutionaries to help him try to overthrow a powerful and unjust leader who fears the ideals passed down from the deity. When the bad leader kills the hero it backfires because it makes the hero even more immortal. He's resurrected and inspires his followers out of poverty and oppression only to watch them become so corrupt that they eventually force the deity to destroy the world with fire and flood. I thought I really had a great fantasy cliffhanger going on until I realized this book had already been written. It's called the Bible. And you had better start following it, or you're going to hell, supposedly. I liked my ending better: Spring Break hot tub parties for all the apostles!

Now that I cleaned out my junk drawer of unfinished ideas, don't you look forward to another year of quality toilet time with the Transistor? No? Well, then I'll just go back to more columns about Japanese Horror Porn. You'd like that wouldn't you?

© Mark Lindquist