Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: roy moore

Winners And Losers Of Last Night’s Alabama Election

Winner: Doug Jones Good work, guy. Your resume is sterling, and you truly live up to your name: you are the most Doug Jones-looking motherfucker on the planet. Anyway, congratulations and enjoy your two years in the Senate.

Loser: Roy Moore. Roy is also a bigoted childfucker, but today he’s a loser, too. Which is nice.

Winner: Statisticians named Nate.  And all the other poll-readers and predicticators: all the major outlets calling the race were dead-on that the contest would break late for Jones because of the blue cities (and their black votes). Far better than the last election in which a clever Jewish man named Nate was making the book; that guy did not tell me what I wanted to hear at all, and I blame him for it.

Loser: Society? Is watching the returns come in on three open windows while obsessively monitoring Twitter and keeping an eye in Russian botnet activity healthy? What if you do it while eating blueberries, which are known as superfoods?

Winner: Black People Specifically, Charles Barkley and whoever sang Teach Me How To Dougie.

Loser: White People What the fuck, white people? I can’t even look at you right now. Stop being like this. Thank you. (This has been TotD’s Social Comment of the Day, or the SCotD. Look for more of them in the upcoming days and weeks!)

However, #NOTALLWHITEPEOPLE. Valued and dear Enthusiasts are from Alabama, and none of them voted for a childfucker; the problem arises from the fact that all white people look alike. Were I to enter an establishment in Alabama, such as a bait shop or a fancy bait shop or a bait kiosk, then I wouldn’t be able to tell the sane and rational whites, ones who may even be far to my right politically but simply couldn’t vote for Uncle Touchy, from the dangerous whites. You do not deserve to be thrown in with them, good whites!

Here’s the solution: KISS makeup. If you are a white Alabamian* who voted for Doug Jones, then you should apply KISS makeup–you can choose who you want to be but Paul’s is the easiest for day-to-day wear–before you leave the house. This is drastic, the non-batshit whites say. I’m sorry, but this is the way things go, I’d say. And then you’d ask about all the fistfights and murders the plan would cause. I would not answer, because the plan would certainly cause all the fistfights and murders that were possible. (We can calculate the number of fistfights and murders using the equation A! when A is the number of Alabamians in a given space. Example: if seven Selmans are in a Seven-Eleven,  all white and wearing or not wearing KISS makeup according to voting data, then you multiply 7 X 6 X 5, etc., and we find that there are 5040 possible fistfights and murders.)

Excuse me. Why are you doing basic math at the nice people who haven’t given you anything for Christmas?

I think you answered your own question.


I continue: do not wear KISS makeup, agreeable whites of Alabama. This is a time of disharmony among men–and women, which is simply absurd–and we need not yet turn every public space political. Talk to the dangerous whites, my friends. They are, I know, your family and your friends. Smother them with love! Or hit ’em with a stick; I have no idea what to do with motherfuckers that voted for Roy Moore. Also, you should not wear KISS makeup because KISS will sue you.

You strayed away from the “Winners and Losers” theme, champ.

Hey, look at that: I did.

Stop talking about politics. It’s Christmas.

It’s Holiday now. Liberals are just calling it “Holiday” so it’s more inclusive. We all felt “Christ” was so Christ-centric.

Stop talking about politics.


At least half of your readers are hate-readers.


It’s true.

That’s why it hurt.



*People from Alabama are Alabamians, not Alabamans, and they will remind you incessantly of the fact.

Live On The Ground In Alabama

It is a titch after 8:00 pm EST (or maybe EDT, I don’t know and I don’t care) here in Birmingham, Alabama, and Thoughts on the Dead is LIVE outside a polling place/Steak & Shake. The race between Roy Moore, who likes to fuck on children, and Doug Jones, who is not an admitted pederast, has come down to the wire because 2017 is a nightmare from which the human race is unable to wake.

I have a One-Man Mobile Uplink unit I borrowed from a guy who doesn’t need it any more, and let’s see if we can talk to some Alabamians who’ve just voted. Sir? Sir, may I ask you a few questions?

“Of course.”

What’s your name?

“Alan Foar.”

Hello, Mr. Foar. Can you tell me who you voted for today?

“Oh, I didn’t vote. I’m a reporter from the Alabama Times. Would you like me to pontificate on what the turnout might mean?”

Absolutely not. Get away from me. Let’s find someone else. Ma’am? Ma’am, can I have a moment of your time?

“Sure you can.”

What is your name and who did you vote for?

“My name is Katy Tur, and I didn’t–”

You’re done. Thank you, Katy. Nice glasses. Is anyone here an actual voter?

“I am.”

Oh, great. Sir, what’s your name?

“I’m Delroy Watkins.”

And are you a reporter or do you live here?

“Lived here all my life. Never left Alabama ‘cept for a couple years in the Navy.”

Wonderful. And who did you vote for today, sir?

“I didn’t vote for nobody cuz those cracker motherfuckers suppressed my motherfuckin’ vote.”

That’s terrible!

“No, son. What’s terrible is my utter lack of surprise.”

Yeah, I guess.

“I’m gonna walk away from you. I ‘pologize for my rudeness, but I can’t take the sight of any more white motherfuckers today.”

Would it help if I told you I’m Jewish?

“Not especially.”

Sure. Thank you, sir.

“Kiss my black ass.”

Yes, sir.

“Excuse me, did you say you were Jewish?”

Um, yes. Who are you?

“My name is Bernie Bernstein, and I work–”

NO. You are Fake Jews.

“On the first night of Hanukkah, you treat me this way?”

Get out of here!

“Potchen mein tuchas.”

Yeah, yeah. Sir? Sir, can I speak with you?


Hi there. Can I ask your name?

“Bobby-Bob Fungus, the Third.”

Hello, Mr. Fungus. Would you like to share with my audience your feelings on the election?

“Well now, I been studyin’ up on them issues an’ whatnot and somesuch. Man’s gotta do his homework. Politics is too dang important to be votin’ based on nonsense an’ personalities. But sometimes you gotta take inna consideration outside factors. And, welp, I have young daughters.”


“And, shee-it, me an’ their momma would love for ’em to find a man like Roy Moore. Thass a good Christian right there.”


“Yeah! Jesus! Roy’s tight with th’ man upstairs. I got two li’l ones, sweet as tea: Britney and Jamie-Lynn. Now, Britney’s 13, so she’s rarin’ t’ go. Jamie-Lynn is only 8, but she’s an early developer. All the girls ’round us is since they opened up that benzene factory upriver.”

Okay, great.

“Th’ Judge is gonna make our daughters great again.”

Uh-huh. Good talking to you. Oh, here’s someone to interview. Giant anthropomorphic hot dog! Over here!


Who did you vote for, giant living hot dog?


Well, there you have it, Enthusiasts. Remember: for all your news needs, tune in here to Thoughts on the Dead.

Pedophilia: An FAQ

Should I pedophilia?

Do not pedophilia.

Just a little?

Not even a little.

What if it’s by accident? 

Are you gonna be a putz all your life, or are you gonna ask something intelligent?

Why exactly are we discussing this subject?

Because Republicans are now backing a pedophile in a Senate race.


We should define our terms. 

You should define my veiny salami.

Ignoring you. Pedophile refers to sexual relations with a child, so I think the word you want–


Thank you, Mr. Davis.

“I don’t like that boldface motherfucker.”

Yes sir. We’ll keep it down. Listen, I know people like to throw that hebrewphile (hezbollahphile? ephraimzimbalistjrphile?) bullshit around, but those people are pedants and perverts. Words drift. Decimate doesn’t mean killing a tenth of your legions anymore. Pedophilia means any sexual acts between adults and non-adults, the line between being 18 years old.

Each state sets its own age of consent and–




You feel strongly about this.

As should we all. This is America: we drive on the right, and we don’t fuck children.

Succinct. Who are we talking about?

Roy Moore. Was there a sheriff in Porky’s?

Even if there wasn’t, I know who you’re talking about.

Well, imagine the sheriff’s a judge. He’s so bad at his job he gets removed from the bench twice.

How is that even possible?



That’s beside the point. The pedophilia is beside the point that the man is completely unqualified for the job and has made statements and issued opinions that should get him chased back into his vermin hole. This is beside the racism and homo-hating. This beside the years-long fight he made the state pay for after installing a giant Ten Commandments sculpture on his courthouse lawn, then refusing to remove it after higher courts said, “Are you kidding me with this?” We’re just here for the pedophilia.

Can you stop saying that word?

I could say “child-fucking.”

Oh, no, that’s worse.

The Anglo-Saxon vocabulary is a blunter one than the Greek.

What did this guy do?

Trolled malls for teenieboppers. Once, he yoinked a kid out of the courthouse’s lobby.

That’s no good.

Not even a little.

How do we know these facts?

The magical power of journalism.

So he hasn’t been found guilty in a court of law? Why are you liberals always so anxious to ram your salty cocks into our nothingburgers?

I think you mixed up a few right-wing memes there, buddy.

I’ve been drinking.

Sure. This is not about legal proceedings. This is a political campaign. Two women have come forward to tell stories about this man assaulting them as teens. Others have corroborated. More are coming. His denials have been confused, contradictory, and equivocating. He did it. People knew about it. He was “Teenfuckin’ Roy.” Motherfucker got banned from the mall.

Why hasn’t he dropped out of the race?

Because shameless people have no shame.

Does he still have supporters?

Oh, yes.

What kind of just God would allow 2017 to happen?

Excellent question.

Who is still backing a pedophile?

Two camps: the deniers and the dissemblers. The deniers have stuck their fingers in their ears and sung Dixie at the top of their lungs, punctuated by the occasional whoop of “Fake News!”

I’m always amazed at what human beings have the capacity to deny.

There are people who don’t think the Dark Ages happened, and Charlemagne was made up.

I can’t believe we’re allowed to be in charge of ourselves.

Many of us are not right in the head.

What about the dissemblers?

This group has several avenues of argument. They are:

  1. Democrats are worse than pedophiles.
  2. Tax Reform is worth electing a pedophile to the Senate.
  3. It was just light pedophilia.
  4. And it was white girls.
  5. Not…
  6. …you know.
  7. Hey, look: Al Franken.

Those arguments are monstrous and evince a complete lack of morality or decency.


We’re through the looking-glass here, aren’t we?

There is no looking-glass. It broke. We broke the looking-glass and left it about 900 miles behind us. The looking-glass no longer has any relevance on our current situation. Pedophilia was the third rail. There’s an old saying that Social Security is the third rail of American politics, but it was really pedophilia. But I guess they switched the power off, because the White House and the Republican Party of Alabama are holding on tight to that sucker.

In their defense, the national party and the Senate leadership has come out strongly against Moore. Wait. The White House?

Basketball Head waded into the debacle today.

Did he help?

As much as always. He said that he believed Moore’s denials.

It’s weird whose denials he chooses to believe.

Pedophiles, Nazis, and Putin.



So pedophilia’s okay now?

We’re gonna let the people of Alabama decide.

Alabam’ Don’t Give A Damn

Another development involving the U.S. Senate race in Alabama.  At least one person in our viewing area received a robocall seeking more damaging information about Roy Moore.  Here is the text of that voicemail message received by Pastor Al Moore in Creola.

“Hi, this is Bernie Bernstein, I’m a reporter for the Washington Post calling to find out if anyone at this address is a female between the ages of 54 to 57 years old willing to make damaging remarks about candidate Roy Moore for a reward of between $5000 and $7000 dollars. We will not be fully investigating these claims however we will make a written report. I can be reached by email at, thank you.”

Pastor Moore says he’s baffled about who might be behind the message.  He said he sent a response to the email address provided but it came back undeliverable.  We also tried the email address with the same result. – “Curious Robocall Seeks Damaging Information On Moore” 11/14/17 



“Hello, there. Hi. How are you? My foot is killing me. This is, ehhhh, Izzy Itskowitz calling from the Daily Forward. Shalom. We are looking for information about that horrible Roy Moore, and we don’t care if it’s true or not. We’ll pay! You know we have the money. Anyway, call us back or don’t. No big whoop.”

“What in tarnation?”

“Early, who was that?”

“Some damn robot. Jewish one.”

“Robots is Jewish now?”

“Guess so.”

“Do they have to get circumcised?”

“Well, I do not know, Jamie-Lynn. I swear you got the sense of a toothbrush up an armadillo’s ass.”


“If that’s the Jewish robot again, ask him.”

“Hush, woman. Yello?”

Que pasa, gringos! This is Jose Sanchez from Telemundo! Ai ai ai! We are willing to pay mucho dinero for anyone willing to go on the record about this pendejo Roy Moore. We can’t pay as much as El Washington Post, but it’s still pretty good money just to make something up. We’re gonna gut this gabacho pig! Call me back!”

“That didn’t sound right.”

“Robot Jews again, honey?”

“Robot Mexicans this time.”

“Oh, no. They’ll put everybody out of work.”

“Is supper ready?”

“Yeah, if you want your chicken raw.”

“That backtalk’s gonna get you a backhand.”

“You ain’t got the balls, Early.”


“Just cook supper, okay? Yello?”

“Yo. Dis here be Rufus Green. We be handin’ out fat stacks of cheddar for information ’bout this Roy Moore honky. Ooh, I hates me some honkies and I is gonna strings dem up! You give up dat 411 and we pays you da long green. I works for da Nation of Islam and also I is a rapper and kneel when dey plays dat Star-Spangled Banner. Get at me, dawg!”

“I’m pretty sure that was a white guy doing a voice.”

“More robots?”


“Well, what do they want?”

“They perpetrating to find dirt on Roy Moore. Say they’ll pay for it.”

“What? You get those ethnic robots back on the phone, Early Watkins! You know the judge grabbed your cousin’s bosom when she was 15.”

“Oh, so did the whole football team. Katie Mae wasn’t no good girl.”

“Don’t be like that, Early.”


“I’d rather talk to this robot than you. Yello?”

“HeeeelOOOOOOOOOooo! This is Bruce LaCoque calling from HOOOOOLLLLywood and we need your help, you sweaty piece of sausage. We heard that this Roy Moore was tricking with underage girls, and that’s wrong! So wrong to do that with girls. If you’ve got any juicy gossip, then call back, but better do it quick. My husband and I are about to adopt our third Christian child so we can teach them about sodomy. Toodles!”



“There’s tomfoolery about.”

“Whatever you say, Early.”



Praise Jesus, my fellow Americans, and also President Trump.

The reports in this mornings Washington Post regarding Senate candidate Billy Most are troubling in the extreme. If the allegations regarding the marching band are true, I would see no way forward with his candidacy. However, I warn against witch hunts. All the facts are not in as of yet, and we live in a country where people are considered innocent until proven guilty.

All accusations of this type must be looked at with the greatest of concentration, and the brave individuals who have come forward to make them should be commended. If it turns out that those skins found tanning in Mr. Most’s basement truly do belong to the woodwind section, then I would have serious reservations about accepting him as a colleague in this august house of law. It should be remembered, though, that DNA analysis of the skins have not come back and will most likely be lost somewhere along the chain of evidence. We may never know exactly what happened here; it might turn out to be a “he said/marching band said” situation.

A suspicious eye must also be turned–in the interest of fairness–to the timing of this story. That band disappeared ten years ago. Why does the Post print these allegations right before the election? Attention must also be paid to the issue of consent. As none of us were in what the lying media is referring to as “the basement of horrors,” none of us know whether or not the trumpet section agreed to be buried alive.

I close with one of my favorite passages from the Bible, which is my favorite book: Let he who has never dismembered, eaten, and worn a marching band cast the first stone. Jesus said that.

God bless America.

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