In Honor of the Legendary Comedian Robin Williams (He's Still Alive, Folks), Here is Hobby Lobby's Presentation of "Death of a Sperm, Part Two"

In Honor of the Legendary Comedian Robin Williams (He's Still Alive, Folks), Here is Hobby Lobby's Presentation of "Death of a Sperm, Part Two"

Ladies and gentlemen, in following an epic blog entry where I linked pure libertarianism to being incompatible to the existence of a true property-owning democracy in the spirit of Murray Rothbard's foundation for the philosophy which resulted in his split with Ludwig von Mises and his lifelong feud over libertarian ideology with Ayn Rand - and if you read the responses by the hardcore libertarians below it, they bear a striking resemblance to those of socialists since in the end, the anarcho-capitalism model that according to Rothbard is a prerequisite to a pure libertarian world is a mere anachronism of any form of social order or core infrastructure which teaches one what he or she will come to value akin to why Rothbard himself felt it necessary psychologically to divorce himself of his Jewish heritage, to assure that he apparently never believed in anything greater than himself as a selfish individual free to kill others whose property he wants as did prehistoric nomads who eventually formed societies once they learned to cultivate vegetables as the initial form of crude agriculture - I will just post this article as a sort of respite from the serious Freudian-laced tirade consummate of my insanity in der deutsche zeitgeist, or to use my favorite language within the Romance family lingually, l'espirit de corps, a sort of humorous take on the epic catastrophe sustained by the president with Hobby Lobby case decision, where on the surface the phenomenon of checks-and-balances overcame dictatorial-style unilateralism... until that nasty pen and phone start to be rattled. 

Cue the old AT&T commercials since some will demand that the president's should have surveillance conducted for lewd comments to his lover, Beyonce Knowles:

I don't know though, my friends. On the surface, these people look so damn happy to be alive, but then no one really is aware that since it was filmed and aired in 1979, the first American "Crisis of Confidence" as devised by the "nut" in the "pea" himself, Jimmy Carter, would harbor a grudge, shown below and not listened to again by me since I spent its entire recording weeks laughing my ass off:

Jimmy Carter, apparently, begged to differ, stating that because the American people had no confidence in its own government, we must be like a frantic suicidal despondent person on the edge of the socialist, big government cliff. I probably should simply state the CNN Center in Atlanta since Ted Turner bought Carter's election to the White House most likely, but I actually like Carter as a human being. He actually is a very nice man, and does stand for something great. He did spearhead Habitat for Humanity, a charitable organization unless I am sadly mistaken that there perhaps he has profited off a lie or the federal government in part subsidizes it. He is a humanitarian on his own accord, and as my father often has stated throughout my life, "He was too damn nice to ever serve as president." And you know what many women say about nice guys finishing last? Rosalyn, his wife, disagrees of course, but then some are likely going to be left out of the gene pool altogether as a result of their genuine gregarity. 

To return to "reaching out to touch someone", there is the 1984 commercial with children as the primary characters spotlighted. Let's watch it, shall we?

Oddly, there is more of a strikingly difference in the cultural content than you might realize. Since there are children which are the primary foci of this commercial, recall that this was aired in 1984, when it was morning in America, just as the height of the Reagan Revolution took flight. As Reagan was staunchly anti-abortion, and since for the only time in my life conservatism dominated the sociological landscape to the point of today's socialists in both the United States and Margaret Thatcher's United Kingdom found themselves having to lie regarding how they likely became filthy, stinking rich off the phenomenon of supply-side economics which replaced the longtime Keynesianism that failed during the 1970s era of stagflation, children and the actual phenomena of the gradual decline to the 40 year low totals for abortions performed today had already initiated, as the counterculture hippies of the 1960s sexual revolution blasphemed by transforming into what were known as yuppies. Apparently, you can take a conservative out of the poorhouse and he or she will remain in the penthouse unapologetically once the conditions are made favorable to achieve the American Dream, but with socialists akin to the Clinton-era of the "new liberalism" or the British phenomena behind Thatcherism's ultimate destruction of hardline socialism incorporated with the central government's "social contract" with the labor and trade unions for decades that transformed the Labour Party into "New Labour" under Tony Blair, well, some dogs do feign learning new tricks when what failed before was so epic that if it did not alter its party platform, its political party would become extinct. 

Of course, in the end it was all a smoke-and-mirrors ploy to think that all characteristics of socialism simply vanished, and like the ghetto worm removed from the ghetto may physically not be living there anymore, its imprint of class warfare and blaming others for his or her own begotten misfortunate never left. They did not at all. And we are seeing it more loudly in America during the era of Barack Obama than in any other time in U.S. history since the New Deal Coalition or Lyndon B. Johnson's (LBJ) Great Society initiative. Just beware of a Democrat's policy involving some derivative of the word "social." It just tells you how it oozes the pumped fists and cries of mob rule under militant socialism to those who are educated.

The Culture of Prostitution Encouraged in Spirit, if Not the Law, by Sandra Fluke

Oh Ms. Fluke, who married a socialist millionaire to be her sugar daddy to launch her career as an independent feminist icon... what can I say about her and a marriage which was likely more arranged out of necessity and a needed recurrence of grudge sex than any real love that might actually be present? In the blog posted last week where I lauded the High Court's ruling to shoot down what really was her case to attack religious liberty in America, you read likely several tweets from both those on the Far Left including Ms. Fluke or others in near pre-suicidal depression, and the conservative side revelling in its mirth and excitement. Dana Loesch, whom some of you may have watched on her television program on the quasi-banned conservative-libertarian channel The Blaze, tweeted a response to perhaps Ms. Fluke herself when apparently she must have called her a name in response to her opponent's opening the character assassination wars as did all of the reindeer to Rudolph over his red nose, and said that if she was to be forced to pay for all her contraceptives, she could call her whatever she (Dana) wanted. Bravo, Dana! Her husband, with whom I am growing quite friendly and very fond over Twitter named Chris, is rather cool and says she wears "Beetlejuice Pants" at their house. Such a funny sense of humor; political correctness be damned!

But now I want to post the really funny stuff, and it will conclude this blog entry; I have not decided if I have time to write another this evening with the construction work ensuing in the bathrooms upstairs for which I am assisting in different capacities. I am in no way as manly nor the epicly-Niagara"esque" in measure the deluge in awesomeness as is Mike Rowe, and you should never pretend to be either. He's like Daniel Boone; he could wrestle a bear and kill it, and then carve about how he killed it on a tree inside present-day Cumberland Gap National Park along the borders of Tennessee, Virginia and Kentucky less than two hours north of my home. Of course, he would face the wrath of left-wing extremists like that cheerleader from Texas Tech University who shot photographs of the wild game she hunted and killed somewhere in the African savanna or perhaps the Serengeti Plain which the article never specified that I read a few days ago. You and I know both know better than to question among the Far Left whether animals or humans have more of a right to live. After all, many of them have ancestors or very distant kinfolk having lived not far from those wild animals.

This is my quasi-assholish dialogue below I had originally intended to post over my Facebook. Of course, common sense told me that not only would a sizeable portion of my female friends, many of them either aligning themselves with the Far Left or are simply moderates who love to have sex without consequences but are afraid to admit as much, would balk at them and I would likely be reported to notorious billionaire owner Obama commissar of the social media service, Mark Zuckerberg, and banned from Facebook for life. Of course, had that occurred, the hilarity behind Facebook divorces would never be an issue again for me!

Conclusion: "Death of a Sperm, Part Two: In Honor of Robin Williams"

Preparing for the (re)launch of feminist extremists ire and repugnation in 3, 2 and 1, with responses to follow telling me that since they should have all their health care needs funded as a natural right and by force whether or not I ever wanted it myself to come; Facebook divorces to be all-inclusive! 

"Yes, Dr. Obama, or Dr. Soetoro... whatever you want to call yourself today depending upon what your student identification card from Columbia University says you are as a foreign student... what are your medical credentials to tell me what health products I am required to buy even if they are anatomically-correct for my body and therefore a waste of tax money?

The Ambiguously-Presidential Man whose name we really don't know and who apparently is a licensed gynecologist.

Yes Dr. Obama, would you like to tell me how you are insisting to pay for my contraceptives - all four Hobby Lobby balked at of the 20 your regulated health plan wants to provide for men with no ovaries nor a vagina and Grandma Moses down the street who can't use it as she is well-past menopause - or, of course, others Hobby Lobby who just don't want to work there due to not wanting to pay their premiums to go towards what they do not approve? Does the medical profession include the right to choice for medical coverage for people physically-incapable of playing lead parts to the sequel of 'Fools Rush In' when engaging in unprotected promiscuous sex or just the standard accidental 'slip-on-a-banana' resulting in the baking of a loaf or more of Chiquita's finest bread?"

Obama at least didn't use hashtags, but he wants you to know that he should determine a man's female reproductive health too by having you pay for Sandra Fluke's sex, lies and videotape. Let's key in on the part stating "her boss." If a woman had the right then to determine her right to health care choices, why is she required to have Obamacare health insurance now? I am sure Ms. Fluke is still taking this while flat upon her back with Obama as her gynecological benefactor.

I swear, this thing called 'choice' appears to have one-way ticket to a multiple thousand page federal government regulation manual defining what exactly that it is, but try as I might, it appears the word 'choice' inside the Beltway and 'enforced coercion' are not mutually exclusive of one another, or are one and the same, and as many feminists of the Sandra Fluke claim simply due to the presence of any male figure in society at all until they want to tap into Affordable Care Act's birth control mandate, someone metaphorically will get screwed or raped. Someone is more equal than others, but I swear I just can't tell how now. Obama is a man telling me to purchase women Plan B since its Ms. Fluke's decision to use $1,000 of federal funding per month to pay for her birth control that she could have used following her regularly-planned meetings with the president in the Oval Office. 

It will hurt Main Street U.S.A., the farmer, the poet and the sailor, but with Sandra Fluke, this issue was spread out a long time ago at a very early age. But even though she's a billionaire, she still wants the Anti-Uncle Tom Barack to fund her sex life.

She is a conservative, thank God, but despite the double entendre of the announcement of the president's arrival, one thing is for certain: everyone is getting screwed, and it usually happen after he comes inside your bod... er, hometown.

As for all Americans having affordable health insurance plans, well, I think this should have been his meme, in the spirit of Obama's use of Twitter to rally Jacobite feminists to engage in the militant tossing of their blood tampons. Or, with these ladies of the night, free bleeding. 

They are all born one per minute, ladies and gentlemen. A male invention, I suppose, is a bad thing, and this "womyn" is a misandronist who would like you to believe that exterminating all men in favor of a global paradise akin to the Greek island of Lesbos would be for the best. I suppose though that she never thought how without the man, she could never have her abortions or contraceptives - or simply the forethought to bitch over the sake of bitching - to transpire. And so I will simply end this blog entry by posting one final photograph of another distasteful anachronism which leaves one and all with a bit of a hairy bad taste in their mouths. 

No thank you ladies. I'll handle things myself tonight and every other night you each are nearby. But, I will remember this the next time you demand I pay for your birth control or simply a dildo to fill in the time you have no penis party to attend that you claim is the bane of your existences. Independence did not come free for the patriots who died to provide you with the liberty to exploit your vagina for attention and political gain. And since you crave independence, well, you should independently pay for your own libertine lifestyle you unabashedly admit to engaging in daily.