THE FIRST MORON OF THE MONTH WINNER!...

     Salutations my drooling menials and unworthy underlings.  I am here again to enlighten and inform you and prevent you from regressing to the eat-your-own-trouser-chili stage of imbecilism that you will surely plunge headlong into without my merciful intellectual intervention.  Why I do it is still not clear.  I do not know you and would most likely think you smelled like butt and used Kotex if we did ever actually meet.  I guess my selflessness causes me to want to share my brilliance with the unfortunate morons who forgot to raise their hands when God asked who needed to have a brain handed out to them.  You're welcome.

     Speaking of handouts, it now time to dispense the very first Moron of the Month award (to an incredibly deserving recipient!) Put your hands together and clap it up for the winner, Arizona's very own Eva Braun... Governor Jan Brewer!  Congratulations, bitch!  You are the first nugget of shit who clung stubbornly enough to the toilet bowl of racist bigots to resist the tide of common sense that flushed your turd compatriots away sometime around 1865 (coincidentally the same year Satan rose from Hell's bowels long enough to pump an unholy sperm ball into a jackal with Down's Syndrome to conceive Ms. Brewer) and survive long enough to both accept this inaugural, prestigious prize AND have me personally tell you that I sincerely hope you get hit by a bus and dragged underneath its axles from Phoenix to Guadalajara, you selfish, racist, Nazi puta whose real problem is that you haven't been laid since Truman held office.  

     For those of you who may not know what Jan Brewer accomplished in order to become the first Moron of the Month, here's the scoop:  this post-menopausal maniac first signed into law an "anti-immigration" (read: anti-Latino) bill which in effect states that having brown skin in Arizona is just cause for police to suspect you of having committed a crime and therefore legally detain you, demand identification and proof of citizenship, and then arrest, imprison, and fine you $500 if you do not have both.  And before any neocon Republican cousin-humpers write in to dispute this, I have read EVERY LETTER of this xenophobic manifesto and thereby possess the gravitas and oomph to make that claim. "The new law will be applied fairly to all Arizonans, regardless of color" says the bleach-bottle-blonde Reichsmarchen of the American Southwest.  Sure.  And I bet the hair around your twat ISN'T grey and more bristly than steel wool, you jodida marana pendeja.  You know damned well the first White person to be asked for a green card is going to sue the Depends off this conniving cunt and hoist her by her sagging nipples from the tallest saguaro cactus in Arizona.  

     As if this outrage wasn't enough, Little Miss Menstrual followed that up by signing into law a bill that  eliminates ethnic studies in public schools because... they "cause resentment towards Caucasians by minorities" and "causes ethnic solidarity".  Whatever, skank.  Apparently Blacks being taught that "nigger" is not an appropriate form of address or that their ancestors did more for America than pick cotton and birth babies for Scarlet O'Hara will make them angry towards White people.  And telling Latinos that they have done more for America than pick fruit and clean bathrooms might make them feel...GASP!!!!... unashamed of having brown skin.  Yes, we can all see how telling minorities to stop killing each other and instead surpass the achievements of their forbearers could threaten the fair, prosperous, peaceful, broad-minded, honest, utopian state of affairs in America.  Listen again, bitch:  just because you douche with ammonia and Cheez-Whiz doesn't give you the right to abuse your gubernatorial authority and oppress Mexicans.  Just because you lost your virginity to a longhorn steer doesn't excuse the fact that you are using your office as a vehicle to promote racial tension and tear this country apart at the seams.  Just because you will assuredly win the vote for Sweetheart of the KKK Rodeo does not mean your sickening policies are just or correct.  While the smell of your rancid vagina is nauseating enough to make rats and houseflies turn blue and puke, you have no right to spread your gristly thighs apart and attempt to use the odor to repel immigrants from our borders.  And just because your Mexicali maid complained about having to scrape the layers of Velveeta off your crusty underpants doesn't give you carte blanche to contact the rotting souls of Strom Thurmond and Joseph Goebbels with your ouija board and follow their post-mortem proclamations.  And just because the Young Republicans (aka the Hitler Youth) and the Tea-Baggers are whistling "Dixie" and burning crosses in celebration of your actions, don't think you will get away with it for long.  Remember you do live in Arizona, you jism-gargling harlot.  That state is browning nicely and soon there will be a Latino majority there.  Your conservative henchmen will be hurled from office.  Your shameful legacy and racist policies will be voted down, stricken from the books, and buried with you in the "made in Mexico" coffin you will eventually be laid to rot in.  And as you look upward every Cinco de Mayo and 16 de Septiembre from the smoldering, sulphuric chasm in Hell you will be occupying eternally, I hope you can take some comfort in the joy and laughter that little, brown, Spanglish-speaking Latino children derive from smashing open piñatas with your Gorgonesque likeness plastered on them.  Felicidades, Señora Brewer.  You!  Are!  The!  Moron!  Of!  The!  Month!  Now go choke on a taco and burn in hell, you wrinkled, prune-like, saggy-boobed, hairy-chested, Hooked- on- Phonics reject, racist, club-footed streetwalking tramp.  And tell 'em Viciouspeach sent ya!

COCKROACHES ARE FOREVER, AND SO IS VICIOUSPEACH

     Hello my loyal legions of little piggies, who have rutted and rooted at the Trough of Life, desperately (and vainly) searching for any morsel of wisdom I may have dispensed over the last several weeks.  The queries have flooded in:  Where are you?  Why aren't you blogging?  How can I get shit stains out of leather thongs? (yes you deviant idiots... one of you actually sent that one in.)  Well, 1.  I've been here; 2. I'm far more important than you so I took a sabbatical to attend to myself; and 3.  wipe your ass better before you slide them on...  otherwise you'll have to steam-clean them, hope they don't shrink, and re-dye them if the steam damages the finish.  Well, I realize that, with the world in the hands of absolutely the dumbest imbeciles ever to be cast into the "reject" bin of God's workshop, I am needed now more than ever to save any tidbit of genius or decency left on this polluted, intellectually impoverished little planet.  That, and I received enough letters to my advice column to inspire me to insult.. I mean... "ADVISE" the writers.  But before I do, I must publicly demand that from this point on I be left in sole charge of issuing drivers' licenses to Asians.  (No offense to my luscious Asian concubines Stiffy and Sugarsnatch, or to my army of Far East fans who lap up my teachings like an inbred Arkansas toddler laps up lead paint off their Chinese-made Junior White Trash Party-Keg Playset).  Seriously, I've had enough near-fatal experiences with Nipponese nit-wits this week alone to justify my position.  On Monday,  for example, I was nearly hit by a runaway Cadillac Escalade ( I thought only Blacks drove those) while standing ON THE SIDEWALK waiting for the light to change. Oh, I survived.  I wish I could say the same for the recycle bins that little Miss Sukiyaki careened into.  And why did this Mandarin misfit simultaneously nearly snuff me out and undo the weekly efforts of the environmentally conscious?  Was it because her feet were bound too tightly to reach the brakes? No.  Was it because she was choking on the spinal column of the stray dog who wound up as part of her egg-foo-yong platter?  No.  It was because she chose to attempt text-messaging while operating a 2 ton gasoline-fueled missile.  After calling her a few names not fit to print in a nice family publication like this, I nearly ripped that phone from her hands and did to it what her disappointed parents should have done to her when she was born: toss it to the ground and stomp on it!  Now don't get me wrong... non-Asians commit this Hell-worthy trespass too.  But how shall I put this delicately?  Double-leg amputees aren't the best choice for your relay team if you're actually in it to win it.  Deafs aren't well-advised to try to host a radio talk-show.  A-cup underachievers should not aspire to sell or model lingerie.  Catholic priests should not run daycare centers.  And anyone with a genetic predisposition to driving like a blind schizophrenic crash-test dummy on PCP should not attempt ANYTHING while driving except turning off the ignition and hopping a cab.  Unless the cabbie is Middle-Eastern.  PPPPPPEEEEEEEEWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!  Don't get me me started on that disaster; it's a rant for another time.  Anyhow... on to the letters!

Dear Viciouspeach,


   What the hell is wrong with Mexicans?!  they put their shitty toilet tisue in the trash instead of flushig it.  They come over here and take our jobs and don't even talk English right.  We eat meat and potaetos here, not rice and beans.  Any thoughts or ideas?


All-American Patriot in Scottsdale


Dear American Pussy Fart,

    I've received some stupid letters, but yours takes the cake. In fact, you've earned the honor of having your ridiculous letter be the first I print unedited so that your ignorance and fetal alcohol syndrome can be viewed and mercilessly mocked by everybody.  Take your undersized penis out of your mother's mouth and listen up baboso.  Lazy piles of puke like you have but three options:  1.  decide to get up off your pimply asses and do the work your own damn selves; 2.   hope that brainy Asian immigrants (brainy unless they're driving, of course) can invent self-cleaning motels, self-picking fruit, self repairing cars,  self-serving/cooking food, self-washing dishes, self- building houses, self-emptying garbage, and self-raising children; or 3.  pucker up and start kissing a lot of mexican ass because this country's about to get a whole lot browner, you pendejo.  And there's nothing you can do about it, vermin.  ¡Ole!

Dear Viciouspeach,


   Please don't insult me; I really need help.  My 2 roommates are impossible to live with.  They eat my food, use my toiletries, and don't respect quiet hours (I am in college and need to study).  Even worse, they are late with rent and never seem to be able to pay their bills on time.  They are disrespectful to my girlfriend. And they bring over shady people who I don't know or trust.  I can't afford to live on my own in this city yet, and I've tried to talk to them about the way I feel.  It always starts a huge fight and I never get anywhere.  Am I a pussy for not being able to handle this?  How would YOU handle this? I seriously could use the advice.  Thanks and great blog by the way ( I really mean that).


Flabbergasted in San Francisco


Dear Flabby Gas Bag,


     Yes.  You are, in fact, a pussy.  But it's OK.  You are a pussy who was smart enough to learn the most critical lesson college can teach you:  Find someone smarter than you to tell you the answers.  You have potential, so I will solve your problem for you.  I live in San Francisco too; how lucky for you.  Go to the South side of the little liquor/ quickie mart on Minna Street between 6th and 7th, just off Market.  Look for a hooker there named Momma Marva.  She's about 5"10", 313 lbs. and usually wears purple nylons and knock-off Gucci ho-heel pumps.  You simply can't miss her.  For a modest fee, she will accompany you to your pad and pop her putrefied crotch-sores with your roomies' toothbrushes.  From then it's just a matter of time till your recalcitrant roommates learn the error of their ways.  Just remember to keep your utensils and drinking glasses separate from theirs.

     So there you have it: my glorious return to form.  Look for new scriptures next week, and keep those letters coming.  Email me at blowitoutyourassdouchebag@gmail.com.  Address them, along with comments, praises, etc., to Dear Viciouspeach.  Till next time, my lackeys.  Keep up the march against Moronism.  Your Grand Marshall is ready to lead.