the blog manifesto.

the purpose of sme is simply this: to overthrow the capitalist hegemony that has a stranglehold on our beautiful, multiethnic society. contributors are asked to take part in this, our overriding mission, so the people of the green earth can breathe together in the clean air of progressive politics and non-judgmentalism. each blog post must bask in the sunlight of earnest expression, never falling into the trap of satire or parody. our aim is clarity and verisimilitude; our mission is truth and the propagation of it. the blog is the perfect place to post your old family videos, homophobic video blogs, another blog's material, awkward, poorly-drawn sketches, halo reach updates, or unexplained/irrelevant wikipedia articles--sme is home to the entire eclectic conflation that is the internet. if there is one thing entirely intolerable to the editors of sme, it is sarcasm. there is simply no room in this blog for sarcastic, humorous, and reference driven posts. if you are among those responsible for such garbage, please leave.

sincerely,

barnaby jones

Friday, March 11, 2016

Bill Clinton: A Life in Memoirs

The Memoirs of President Bill Clinton





Hey, yeah hey you. I’m Bill Clinton and these are my memoirs. Listen up man and I’ll tell ya what ya need to know. 


The Early Years
Yeah I think it was about 300 BC. 


I had just rented out a nice place in the desert with my girl, Haarlaxxa, yeah that’s right. She was a telepathic warlord. I could barely sleep over her dang “midnight animal killing” thing she used to do. Women, man. I’ll tell you what. 


But you know, we did what we had to do to get by. Just squirtin’ out particle beams and poppin’ down into the void zone to rake up some plasma bucks that the laser camels dropped out of their humps. Those crazy laser camels man I’ll tell you what. What a time. 


Now wait a minute, wait a minute. Here’s the thing: 


I didn’t know where I came from or who I am. Still don’t. 


But you know, what are you gonna do? Sometimes you just gotta whip out the ol’ saxophone and keep on keepin on you know. Whitewater? Never heard of it. 


Way back then before I was President of the good ole U. S. of A., my days mainly consisted of:


  • Bein’ in the dark and bein’ scared
  • A deep tunnel with no light at the end
  • Bein’ trapped in my infinity stew of endless knowledge (very wet)
  • And that’s about it



I didn’t know what was goin’ on, but I had to do somethin’ about it quick! I couldn’t just sit there blind and wet forever. I had to do like my daddy taught me and use my primordial knowledge prism to make something of myself. 


The King and I
Right, there was this king. Met him down at this happenin’ joint called the Puke Pit. The king had one heck of a craving for my knowledge.


He would shave my entire body and make me roll up in a little ball and say things like, “I am slaveboy. Boy is my slave. I am boy. Slaves are myself. Slave is knowledge.” But sometimes all you can do is laugh, ya know?


What made it worse was when he tied me up and dipped me in pickle juice every time I came to visit. I got realll pickly. I was like a pickled little turkey in some tight, sexy little plastic wrap in the back of the fridge. Man those were some weird times. 


Anyway, eventually Haalroxablachablal came and rescued me from my pickle prison, and the King realized that my knowledge stew wasn’t all that bad. From then on I advised him pretty good. Pretty damn good….


One time I was down there with the king just slappin’ a couple big ole pieces a beef together (you know, for the kids) and it kept makin’ this real cool noise. I kept doin’ it and everybody was so happy. Eventually I just decided to name myself after the beef slappin’ sound. That’s how I got to be called “Bill Clinton”. 


The Creation of Bill Clinton
So when I created myself, it basically went like this. I was deep down in the plasma zone and it was just time for a change ya know? You would not believe how stuffy it gets down there. Like a scorchin’ wet Louisiana mud dog in a water heater on the fourth of Ju-ly! I’m talkin hot! So I went ahead and said the creation prayer I learned as a kid:


Deep Unknown: send us a messenger.


Me: This is my child. 


Eternal Void: growing stronger.


Me: This is myself. 


Mindless Creatures: it is true.


Me: Come to me, my child. 


Unsolved Mysteries: willing it to be.


Me: I am alive. 


The Heartsoul of All Mankind: he has arrived.


Me: I am Bill Clinton. 


Gettin’ Down to Business
So down in Arkansas there are these real nasty sloppy swamp monsters. They’re real big and they’ll getcha if you’re not careful. Once I was created I had to deal with stuff like swamp monsters, and also Congress.  


So I was down in the dark in Arkansas just workin my hip thrusters when I bumped into somebody else doin the same thing. We kinda thought it was weird for a minute when I realized wait a minute, I know this guy. This is Al Gore, my lifelong friend and greatest personal nemesis. That crazy son of a bitch. 


From then on we were inseparable, from the secret slop club at the tippy top of the Washington Monument to the deepest, darkest cajun voodoo pits in bourbon street New Orleans! One time man, we got in deep with a witch doctor who said Bill, man, if you don’t cut open Al Gore with this rusty, cursed bone saw then you’ll have to go back to your primordial form and you’ll never be able to play the saxophone again. AlGore looked right at me and.. I’ll never forget this.. He said Bill, I’ve known you since you were born and I’ll feel the plasma drips in my drop box when you die. You’re my eternal master and my body is yours to cherish or destroy. That’s when I knew he would be my veep. Ride or die.  


Hillary
In my mind there are five elements of a great assassin-wife. Hillary has got ‘em all! Her blades are sharper than the mind of a Transvestite eagle hawk. Her ass is like a sabre-toothed tiger just ready to pounce and eat ya up. Her mind is more poisonous than the Acid Attack Frog native to the Pacific coast of Colomebia. Those three are good, and there are two others that are good, too.


I’ll tell you what though man, everybody who’s seen Hillary has suffered, and then died. I’m serious about that. It’s kinda been a problem. 


Alright well that's it for now I guess. Thanks, and God bless America. 

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

How to get women of the opposite sex in five easy to do steps that you can do because they are easy to do! 1) First thing you have to is be really good looking. Women love guys that are good looking. If you are a hot and sexy man than you got it made! You might be thinking “hey Chris, I am super ugly-- my mom wanted to abort me because of this” I say to you life isnt fair. Do You think its fair how good looking I am? No. But I am. 2) Be full of knowledge. Women love guys that are full of all sorts of knowledge about things. You have to have two types of knowledge 1. Classical guy knowledge This is knowledge about cars, fixing things around the house, and sports. Tho you talk mostly about this stuff with your guy friends women love guys that don't care about what they care about. 2. Knowledge about the finer things in life Women are sups attracted to guys that know about 1800th century french literature and Italian Renaissance paintings. Read some books and pretend like you know this, lie to them if need be. Yes. Lying works really well with women. 3. Be super jacked. I mean look at me? I am super jacked and do you know how many women I get? Millions. So, don't be a flubby dubby unless you are super rich-which brings me to my next point. 4. BE super rich! Do you know how much poontang wealthy people get? A lot. Women are really really simple creatures. Women are attracted to money like flies are to shinny things.. Its science 5. Be Brad Pritt. Its pretty basic. If you are Brad Pit, you get all the women...

Friday, June 5, 2015

gotta get up outta tha hood


by marquis jackson



man, bruthas be tryna diss me when i’m just tryna get by. can’t get my head straight when i’m out in the streets chasin dat paypah. tha struggle is deep and mah gurl always be hasslin my ass.


damn.


livin is hard yo. gotta watch out fo tha man always tryna reappropriate my shit. the damn govahment yo. hasslin my ass...


all I need is to get real. find somethin to take mah mind off tha hussle.


gotta get up outta tha hood, bruh. get away from all these got damn aliens, nawmean?


deez aliens be jockin my shit all damn day and i’m like DAMN man back up off me FUHREAL.


aliens all up in dis bitch.  flyin in wit dey got damn flyin saussahs n shit, hasslin aybody jus tryna go about they bizness.


can’t take nunna dat shit.


like the otha day. when tha crew was loungin and we was mad lifted, damn aliens bust all up in tha crib, lazah beams all in a brutha’s eyes n shit. straight killed tha vibes yo.


next time I see those alien crab bitches imma board they ship, halo 2 style. rip they advanced extraterrestrial eyes straight out they puffy faces. get medieval on they asses.


imma drop SCIENCE on dem hoes. aliens roll up thinkin they the illest, thinkin homeboy don't tote strap all GOT DAMN day. couldn't be more wrong yo.


perhaps they supah intelligent mastah plan will be reconsidahd once I sneak up behind they asses like a got damn ninja, smack they supreme leadah up on a chain link fence and straight RAIL on dat bitch. we be clockin they asses left and right till they mothaship ain't got no option but to send backup to the hood. warfare game STRONG yo.


meanwhile my girl at home be like, MARQUIS I need some money fo the damn rent and I'm like DAMN BITCH can't you see im tryna fend off this weak ass, triflin ass alien invasion? shit.


i'm tellin you man, always tryna hassle my ass.


damn.


Wednesday, May 27, 2015

The Eels

By Jeremy Wade Gorgeous and slippery glass monsters they are. The Eels.
With their glistening eyes of pure hatred,
They are greasy death machines.
They are icy liquid nightmares.
They are syrupy trench rapists.
They are polished and silky primordial water goddesses.
In the deep and dark crevices they seek me out and they find me. 
They strike me down in my weakest of states, soaking prostrate in the waxy oils of my forbearance. They make a fool of me with their unsafe mental powers, their unstable time travel capabilities. They are glassy and transcendent. They reach the top but continue still, their unlimited moisture abundantly flowing directly onto my face. Their minds are glazed with sexual promiscuity (sexual magic). They maintain an infinite chokehold on my psyche from which I cannot escape. I lose control of my bodily functions in their lustrous and lubricious presence. I draw near to their slimy essence. Satiny Angels. Glistening Devils. Beautiful and viscous creations abiding in the darkness. Soapy miracle in my veins, throbbing and unctuous. Their oils consume me. Steady is my gaze upon these dancing wonder worms. I anxiously await their return. My body aches for the engulfing warmth of their saccharine fluids. My mind is a cage to which their hypnotically slithering bodies are the only key. My limbs quiver in anticipation of the powers of dampness that I will be granted once they make their home within me. For I will be theirs and they will be mine. Forever.



Thursday, May 21, 2015

Work-out plane 4 Emery

I care a shit ton about fitness. So, needless to say, people ask me ALL the SHIT time to fucken give them shit to do to get them assed ripped. Here is 1 such plan I given to my FRIEND: "Getting jacked is simple as shit. Over the years of becoming super ripped balls guy and having bulging biceps (by which I have sex with many ladies with my bulging penis), I have formulated 3 simple rules to become a hugatroner-sexual-mechine/lady-vigina-plower. Rule 1 DONT BE A PUSSY OR A FUCKING DUMB ASS! This is kinda of a joke but also serious. IF you want to get jacked you have to workout when you don't want to, but you also have to know when you need to rest (thus the dumbass part). So you have to be willing to push your body to the limit—and it hurts...a lot. But I usually walk away from each one of my sets with a huge raging boner, as should you. Your the parts of your brain that sense pain are right next to the parts the sense pleasure (so its science) pain can be pleasurable. But if your muscle hurt like fuck ass and your feel like actual shit—not just being a bitch ass, then rest that day. Rule 2 SLEEP A SHIT TON! I was thinking of making this one the first and most important rule but I did not because the one I put as first is the most important one, so never question anything I tell you, K? This is super fucking important so put your listening cap on....your body puts all shorts of shit into yourself that gets you jacked as fuck. Ever heard of HGH? Yeah? That the shit 90% of pro athletes take( the other 10% sit on the bench) to get strong and recover. Its illegal as shit. Your body makes that while your sleep. So sleep a lot. There is all shorts of science behind why sleep is the balls sack, but I am not going to quote it because its boring as shit. So just trust me when I tell you: SLEEP YOU BITCH ASS NIGGER. 8-10 hours. If you can...shit sleep 12 nigger. See how little Americans sleep? Yeah they are all fat asses. Rule 3 EAT A HELLA OF A LOT YOU GAY ASS WHOLE! You are trying to put on 10 pounds yeah? Do you know (you fucking ass hole) how many Calories are in a pound of fat, ah? 3,000. That right. So you have to eat 3,000 calories to gain one pound of fat...now muscle is even harder to make so imagine how many calories you have to eat... like 100,000 or more. Now don't eat shitty ass food, accept on thos cheat day tho eat all that shit nigga (which should be ones a week), but for the other days this is what your day should look like: Breakfast 6 whole eggs (dont be a bitch) 6-10oz of nuts 6 pieces of bacon And some cheese on your whole eggs Snack protein shake or bar or five Tablespoons of skippy peanut butter Lunch Salad (big ass amount man..dont be a bitch) Chicken or steak (a lot) some fruit Rice Snack Protein shake Dinner meat veggies fruit Bread Before you go to bed have some peanut butter and get up in the middle of the night and eat something too (like a protein shake or some cookies) Rule 4 LIFT SOME HEAVY ASS WEIGHT AND A SHIT TON OF LIGHTER WEIGHT! Right now your prob asking yourself, “hay, didn't chris say there was only 3 rules...???” Well you guessed wrong bitch! I do what I want. This is the final Rule. If YOU want to get big you have to lift heavy AND lift a lot of lighter weights, Bitch."(Detmering 2005)
What my friends think I do


What my parents think I do

What society thinks I do


What my boss thinks I do


What I think I do


What I really do

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Blood Sphere: A Fine Dining Establishment


At Blood Sphere we transcend the very idea of food, bringing our diners to a different world entirely. Located in the back of an unstoppable freight truck circling the globe with no true destination, Blood Sphere can happen to anyone, anywhere, any time.

Deny yourself the pleasures of traditional flavors as your mind is cleansed of past, present and future experiences of inferior restaurants. Allow Blood Sphere to release the tension built deep within your soul as the courses speak to your inner being. Engage in the pagan rituals of civilizations past on your quest for true flavor... and true existence.

~Menu~

Deep Herbs with Creme - 1250
A Maori tribesman pursues you through the dark, brandishing a deadly weapon made of your own teeth. You find solace in the arms of your engorged, nubile lover. The search continues.

These rare herbs are wrapped in the skin of southeast Asian Yaks and roasted over a fire of dried refuse from the depths of the Yangtze River. Accept their sacrifice.


Berries Trampled Under Foot - 990
Embrace the ancient Aztec tradition of suckling on the aged remains of berries trampled under foot by a stampede of innocent children.


Stillborn Sheep Blood Tart - 8000
This exotic and illegal dish is composed from the remains of an infant sheep ripped from its mother’s womb, vacuum-sealed, shot into space and consumed by fire upon reentering the earth’s atmosphere.


Old Cattle - 500
The crust produced by the decrepit eye sockets of the elderly cattle is used to create a wonderfully light and sweet puree that is applied liberally to our diner’s hands, feet and nipples.


Spring Leaf Burial - 2500
You awake to the putrid smell of cloven hooves coated in a thick oaken paste. Your deceased father motions you to come closer.

For this course our expert chefs will bury you on a bed of pleasant spring leaves amidst the freeze-dried, gender-neutral entrails of our latest trappings.


Eyes - 1000
The eyes come from nowhere and are going nowhere. None can question them. Trapped in a dark room with nothing but pictures of your 11th birthday party, you are forced to reason with them nonetheless.