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| | 
 | Guest Rant from mpwilliams, responding to Lord Kray's
previous Rant on France:
On Tuesday French Foreign Minister Dominique De
Villepin called for an immediate suspension of the sanctions against Iraq
imposed after it’s 1990 invasion of Kuwait. Who is he to be making demands?
-- Who does George Dubbya think HE is making Demands?
Don't worry, I already know you're going to say:
"The President of the greatest country on earth,
leader of the free world..." etc. etc.
Regardless of your "patriotism," (and I use this term
fascistly - oops I meant facetiously - since patriotism is actually about
standing up for your countries ideals, not its leader) I don't agree that
America is the greatest country on earth just because we have the more guns
and Big Macs. I think America should be the greatest country on
earth because of our actions, and I don't think G.W. is helping there.
Since you're so hot on NATO I wonder if you knew that
the "war" in Iraq was illegal according to many of their
charters/resolutions/etc. and the Geneva Convention as well? (Of course
America is a signatory to all of these.)
In a previous rant I stated that I had nothing
against blowing the shit out of Iraq, as long as we did it right. Well I
have to admit that it was definitely done right! In a matter of days Hussein
was deposed, Baghdad was occupied, and all done with impressive precision
and minimal U.S. casualties.
-- Are you aware that the civilian to enemy kill ratio
(collateral damage or any other number of military euphemisms to describe
accidentally blowing away an innocent person) in this "war" was higher than
in any war in U.S. history? That means that for every enemy soldier killed
there were more non-combatants killed than in Vietnam or WWII, even though
we have all this new "precision" weaponry. I am not impressed. (before you
dismiss this point as being some kind of left-wing liberal propaganda, know
that the military admits this freely, just look around on the .gov sites.)
Ok, this is where I draw the line, pragmatic? Hey Dominique! “FUCK YOU”
and take Jacques with you. Why don’t you just come out and say Iraq is ripe
for the picking and you want your piece. After all this is all about money,
France had oil contracts with Iraq, not to mention it’s widely believed they
were selling Iraq illegal arms.
-- I can't even believe you bring up financial motivation for the war in
an argument against France and in favor of the US. This is just comical.
Also, you ARE aware of who the largest weapons merchant on the planet
is, aren't you? (the US just in case you really don't know) Plus, we sold
Iraq and Iran and Afghanistan and pretty much everyone else we've been
harassing lately most of their stuff.
NO! As far as I can tell the stinky little country known as France
serves NO legitimate purpose to the American people and thus should be put
out of our minds, and the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO).
-
The government is trying to figure out a way to punish France
appropriately without destroying future relations, I say FUCK future
relations with France. What the hell do they do for us?
-
Hey George, if you want to send yet another message to the international
community, tell France what they can do with their pragmatism, they can
shove it right up their arrogant, egotistical, stinky asses! Like so many
other countries around the world, without us they would be nothing!
-
Only time will tell, but for now let’s all rejoice in yet another great
American victory, once again we have a reason to hold our heads up high, and
proudly proclaim that we are Americans, and we’ll kick the shit out of
anybody that has a problem with it!
-- Shit like this is why nearly everyone in the world thinks Americans
are ignorant assholes. (and sometimes they're right)
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| Guest Rant from lady celticia
Everyone thinks that Unions are the best fucking thing
in the world. I used to think that shit too. That is, until October 14, 2002.
My husband worked for a peanut butter factory in
Louisville, Ky. He had been with the company for five fucking years and just
loved the local teamsters union that he paid $33.00 fucking dollars to every
month.
They had one damned good contract until the time for
this contract renewal came up.
The fucking Hitler type hatchet man told the boss man,
"Let's fuck em all and give em nothing this time!" So the contract presented
to them was a bunch of shit.
* A points system that would not even
consider a doctor's statement.
(The points system they already had was
just fine and if you had a
doctor's statement, the point would be
taken off.)
* Wanting to make one person work the job
of three.
( Word to the masses; Fuck that shit,
never mention
that you can multi-task on a resume'
)
And a few other articles in the contract that I
am not privy to.
Now everyone at this company had no qualms about the 3%
raise. They loved it. But they had to endure a lot of bullshit to put up
with the good raise.
Now here comes my true rant. Everyone just LOVES THE
TEAMSTERS...
I say, "FUCK THEM AND JIMMY HOFFA, JR!!!"
They lied to the workers of ALGOOD FOODS
from the start!!!
They pressured them into voting on walking out.
They never told the striking workers that they could be
permanently replaced.
They never told the strikers that the boss conceded on
the points and never
brought it to a vote.
OH and don't get me started on CATHOLIC CHARITIES... Who
put the muther fuckers in the plant in the first place. HEY ASSHOLES... DID
YOU THINK ABOUT THE CATHOLICS THAT WERE FIGHTING FOR THEIR JOBS ON THE PICKET
LINE?
I didn't think so!!!!!! "We're sorry. We
didn't know there were upstanding Catholics that would actually "refuse to
work". Are you muther fuckers sorry that 45% of your priests got caught
with their pants down and molested the children of the world? hmmmmmmm
Can you believe this horse shit. They call a strike,
"Refusing to work"
REFUSE THIS, BITCHES!!!! EAT MY ASS!
Now to the racism part.
I was never a prejudiced person. But now I cannot stand the site of anyone
of Hispanic descent. They are all the ones who took my husband's and his
fellow workers jobs.
I am just so tired of people from other countries
getting all the breaks while we hardworking AMERICAN BORN people get shit on,
FIRED, and replaced like yesterdays garbage.
We lose our fucking jobs because some beaner will work
for $2.00 less on the hour. Screw that.
Then they squirt out six fucking babies so the
Government will help them out. They are like cockroaches in a roach motel.
Ten fucking people living in a two bedroom apartment. Come the fuck on.
We moved into an apartment complex and and stayed there
until we found a house.
When we first moved in the flyers were in English and
Spanish. When we moved out, THEY FLYERS WERE ONLY SENT OUT IN SPANISH. I
knew it was time to go.
-BUH-BYE- to Arcadia Park Apartments. PUH-FUCKING-LEASE!!!
Oh yeah and as for the TEAMSTERS, on the whole they did
help raise the standard of living and brought the union pay to a good rate.
BUT as for LOCAL TEAMSTERS 89 in LOUISVILLE, KY?
THEY CAN KISS MY ASS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And Mr. James Hoffa, Jr....
I got one question for ya ala Ms. Janet Jackson,
"What have you done for me lately?"
NOT A GODDAMNED THING, THAT'S WHAT!!!!!
buh bye
lady celticia
===================================================
Brightest Blessings - As long as ye harm none. So
Mote it Be!
===================================================
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"Of Divine Entities &
Sad Cast-Aways: An Apocrypha"
By: Bob Freville
WASHINGTON, D.C.
Sulfur rains down upon the city, charcoal clouds blanketing the skies and
lightning roaring. Petrified residents of the United States' capital run for
their lives, chaos in all directions and tyranny abound. Reporters are
trampled to death by the innumerable crowd of frightened people, all taking
part in an implicit anomie. Buildings collapse, killing buses of senior
citizens and small children.
Demons taunt old folk and wickedly scare the bejesus out of the
capital's youth, some taking stage left and stage right to serenade the
crowd in a Greek Chorus, wearing hip black leath pants and wired on some
methed out androgyny.
"You all wrote your own fates," Funesto exclaims loudly. Funesto is a demon.
"Mapped them out in all your unremorseful actions and menial decisions and
now you are the victims of your own iniquity! Your feeble shells will be
offered up to the replacements, just as your souls will return to us, where
you will one day sing the hymm of their disasters, just as I do now! The
action is go!
Diavolo, another demon, laughes menacingly. "You're worm food, maggots! A
pathetic machine of wastefulness for El Diablo. Your transgression has
brought you here. Down you will go. Your own God is ashamed of you!
Maggots!!!"
Far off, we hear a soft cry. Enter Lucifer, center stage.
"I sit here and cry," he says in his deep yet vulnerable voice. "But God is
impervious to my whimpers, just as I was to his warnings and promises. I was
merely the preamble sinner, but you are all the herd. How I miss him so.
My father. I am the primitive bastard and I have myself to blame. I only
wish on the eve of this Great end and new Beginning that I could resolve to
attain ethereal status again...but, alas, I faltered when I had the chance
to ascend. And now the doors are closed and I must patiently wait for the
other fools to live this great and horrific lesson before I return to the
lacunae of Hell I so despise. I dug it for myself all those years ago."
Lucifer rubs his brow. Just then, the Messiah enters center stage, and
approaches El Diablo. The broken Lucifer looks up with mouth agape. The
Messiah blankets Lucifer in his holy cloak.
"Why does Lucifer's heart ache so when he hasn't a heart to feel?"
"Oh Lord," the Devil replies woefully. "I was denounced and vanquished from
Paradise beyond the firmaments and I had rage. But I have extinguished my
flaming wings and renounced my jealousy for you, my brother. But what the
Lord couldn't take from me, which still shines in my chest, is my heart. I
have Love, but it has nowhere to dwell. The minions of Hell experience all
the handmade and dreamt up tortures of marvelous pain that I could
surmise...but their pain, unlike that of the neglected, prodigal Fallen
Angel, which is I, can vanish at merely realizing their master and
executioner if but a feeble, coiled spring. I am so wishing in these late
hours that I could give my hate to somebody more deserving and turn back the
clock to that wee hour when I could have shown God my appreciation and
loyalty...but failed to."
"As I see Demonio tire of inducing heart attacks in the elderly and Funesto
cut out his sharp tongue, I realize that everybody has innate evil and
innate Good. The very design I thought my father had failed in creating.
That said, I know that you, my brother, as you voice your passion, truly do
repent. So I forgive you."
Lucifer looks the Lord in his redeeming eyes with a look of gratitude and
love unmeasurable.
After a long, silent beat, the Messiah speaks again. "Want to get a Chalupa?"
About the Author:
My name is Bob Freville. I have written numerous
short stories and poems,
some of which have appeared on www.getunderground.com, another
fantastic website of like-minded artists and philosophers working to
get their shit out there. My poems have appeared in several volumes of
poetry, including Passages in Time(a chapbook from JMW Publishing) and
Letters from the Soul(Poems.com), and one of them will be appearing on
a forthcoming 3-Disc Set from the aforementioned poetry site.
In addition to my work for getunderground, and my chapbook stuff, I have an
unpublished manuscript("The Epoch: An American Drug Journal")
and a feature-length pot comedy script("Unemployment") under my belt.
Currently, you can visit my portfolio at www.PostPoems.com for a peak
at some of my germinal prose, or seek a copy of "Passages in Time".
I am best-known to the cyber community as Nylon Suavez AKA spinalfrenzy
AKA Lex Sativa AKA Chocolate Bodagard. I have two stories with Hunter
S. Thompson at the National Affairs Desk @ Rolling Stone right now
under the pen name of Bill V. Brofee, and continue to attract foul comments
of censure from my contemporaries at getunderground for my
fictional travel diary "The Purple Egg From Ecuador...Or The Lost
Art of Self Destruction".
Aside from writing, I have studied filmmaking, classical music and
art. I took a crash course in editing and directing at The Cinema Arts
Centre in Huntington, N.Y., and starred in a cameo that was ultimately
cut out of the obscure 2001 indie-thriller "Sharp & Sudden"(dir: Glenn
Andreiev). I am now banging out a novel about the porn industry while
seeking gainful employment.
My e-mail address is: mugwump86@hotmail.com
and I can also be reached via snail mail at: 2 Spring St., Lindenhurst,
N.Y. 11757
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"Post-Coital
Political Rant"
by
Bob Freville
"Politics has, of course, grown meaner over the years. It has become
hardball."
---Roger Simon
After basking in afterglow for all of five minutes, my girlfriend threw me a
box of tissues to clean up with while she hopped in a cold shower. I gave
my groin and face a haphazard once over, then, as ennui set in, picked up a
stack of magazines fresh off the newsstand from the bedside. The first
'zine I opened was the April issue of U.S. News & World Report.
Inside, I quickly found information corroborating my theory that
intelligence is on a wane in America. In the magazine's Headliners column,
a poll had shown that the majority of college guys named Britney Spears
their dream professor(!). Great, I thought. As if we do not have enough
physiognomy and reckless lasciviousness on campus ground already. Now the
new generation wants to study under a young woman who is just waiting to be
stalked and raped by some implacable pervert frat boy. What will people be
earning their Master's in? Cosmetology? The art of wearing moist tissue
paper as an evening ensemble? I can see it now, a Justin Timberlake Library,
a John Belushi mess hall, etc. ad nauseum.
When I felt I had meditated on this abominable subject long enough, I
flipped to the Washington Whispers page. The following excerpt from said
periodical was entitled "1-800-Bush"(Sounds like a Phone Sex Hotline, huh?):
"Leave it to telemarketers to bust into the most secretive phone system in
the world. Here's the story: While in El Paso, Texas, a member of the
White House communications team that handles President Bush's phones hears
his cell phone buzz. 'Hello,' he says, with a military clip. Then: 'How did
you get this number?' Know that his is a highly secure
phone with an unlisted number. Turns out the caller if from El Paso Times
and selling subscriptions."
...THIS IS NEWS?! What I want to know is, why shouldn't a member of Bush's
communications team receive the dreaded phone call from a telemarketing
firm? It seems, atleast to this journalist's mind, a real kick-in-the-ass
cheat for some mortal man, who just so happens to be part of the
governmental elite, not to get those calls we all loathe so much.
Infact, I'd like to make it my business to call this deigning shithead up
personally every night at around 6:00 p.m.
"Oh, I'm sorry, sir. Did I catch you at dinner? Well, I just wanted to ask
you a couple of suspicious questions about White House privacy, and then
hang up on you after getting your credit card numbers. You don't mind, do
you?"
It is this sort of bureaucracy that really chaps my ass.
Bill Clinton was quoted as trying to vindicate himself, even after all this
time. "I have gotten a lot of bad press," he said to reporters."Most of
which was blatantly false and printed by people who knew it was
false." Okay, Bubba, okay. Does this mean you have it in for the slanderous,
yellow bastards who spread that elaborate lie about you and that Lewinsky
broad? How false was that dress, Bubba? How false was that
dress? Probably looked and smelled pretty false, my red-nosed comrade. Have
a cigar!
Certainly the most profoundly disturbing and, paradoxically, venerable piece
in the magazine was one focusing on the lab study of a 5,300-year-old
"Iceman" mummy. I wondered immediately what someone like Aldous Huxley(he of
Brave New World fame) would think about this scientific achievement.
Forensics pathologist Eduard Egarter's discovery and
subsequent medical analysis of this antiquated specimen of man raises many
questions about morality, pathology, religion and existence...
...though not for the majority, who seemed to ignore the article.
The glistening, sanguinary cadaver of the long dead (obviously) primitive
male resembled something out of a re-run of "The X Files". What was more
unpleasant than his appearance was the fact that someone would dig up the
dead for childlike curiosity. A tightrope is walked between the
opposed worlds of science & medicine and ethics & religion. Some of the
things we have come to expect from the American family doctor were once
tenuous subjects that aroused reproach in the more puritanical of folks.
Nobody likes to admit that we play God, but it is, nevertheless, a topic to
be discussed.
Perhaps the excavation and dissection of a deceased human being does not
seem so morbid or outrageous to most, but doesn't anybody remember when shit
like cloning would have been verboten and near intangible?
When I reached a feature article on partisanship versus patriotism concerned
primarily with Bush's approval ratings, I couldn't help but feel
queasy. Putting the magazine aside, I lit a cigarette and started downing
the contents of a bottle of Finlandia vodka straight. By now my girlfriend
was out of the shower and towel-drying her hair in the room
with me.
"Why are you drinking like that? You're going to throw up!"
"No, I won't," I tried to explain to her in my inebriation. "If I don't get
drunk, and I mean fast, I really will vomit."
Great article by Simon & Samuel, but too incendiary for the sober mind.
Senate Majority Leader Tom Daschle may be a vile geriatric in some respects,
buy far from deplorable in regards to his opinions on the war on
terrorism.
"I don't think the success has been overstated," he replied to a reporters'
query about the media coverage of Bush's alleged victories and our progress
as a country. "But the continued success, I think, is still somewhat in
doubt."
The article also mentioned that Daschle believes the United States must get
Osama bin Laden and other key terrorists "or we will have failed." According
to Simon and Samuel, Daschle's comments were received with disapproval by
Republican constituents, who postulated that he[Daschle]
was trying to divide us during a vulnerable period in our country's history.
My question: Since when did fundamentalism omit the freedom of speech? And
why is Daschle being treated like Walker Lindh's butt buddy or something? I
mean, for God's sake, it's pretty pathetic when someone decidedly non
partisan, such as myself, has to provide apologia for one "important" man's
opinion. I don't like Daschle, but I like what he had to say, and I don't
think that it should be silenced.
You want calumny, you crooked Republican shits?! You've got it right here!
Ashcroft kills 19...in negotiations to execute another by the name of
Emile[a "nefarious" drug kingpin]...Bush takes a dive as per a bag of
pretzels...Enron executives commit mass suicide while listening to
"Stranglehold" and sipping cyanide-laced punch...and in more news...
The vodka has done its job, unlike many high-ranking Washington officials,
and I am feeling elated, apathetic about the whole mess of war games,
libel, partisan bickering and hegemony(Do we realize that we haven't ever
veritably won a war? Vietnam?). I raise my glass in honor of two Israeli
soldiers.
To explain: I nearly pissed myself with laughter after reading a quote by
two foreign militants in another magazine in the pile. The soldiers
explained, in dead pan style, the reason why they named a stray dog George
W. Bush."He barks alot, but he is useless."
L.M.A.O.
The morale afforded me by the bottle of spirits made me realize something.
Life here is painful and truculent, and all the government can be considered
is an expensive, avaricious buffer between the people and utter
chaos. After being plunged into a war, nay, a media-ratings conspiracy that
our government was partly responsible for, we have learned nothing...except,
maybe, how to order an American flag off television for
$19.99 plus shipping + handling.
The future I can forebode is a bleak one. Human frailty and cruelty are the
two bookends to our dilemma, with war and bereavement as the terrible
consequence of territoriality and unction. We say we need organized
religion and democratically-elected leaders for hope and stability...yet
theology and politics are what triggered the Sept. 11th "retaliation".
I have decided to lead a search party, so that we might find Ralph Waldo
Emerson and ask him to explain that whole self-reliance thing to us one
more time. Who is with me?
After returning from a long appointment with the toilet bowl, I climbed back
into bed, pushed the magazines aside, and disappeared beneath the
sheets with my lady friend.
It seems like a decent American is always getting screwed.
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Sports Writing & Muff Diving
by
Bob Freville
I have never been big on porno films, preferring
artsier fare like "Caligula" and "Emmanuelle" to the gratuity and off-kilter
dubbing of your "Debbie Does Dallas: The Next Generation" or "Anal
Amateurs." Which makes the prospect of reviewing one seem all the more
ironic. But I'm a professional, goddammit! If my editor-in-chief Lex Sativa
tells me this is what I gotta scoop, then this is the thing to scoop. If I
can't give you an objective critique of a blue movie, then what good am I?
Katja Kean's “Sports Spectacular” is ripe
for the pickin', fellas! Centering around the exploits of a coquettish
sports columnist (Kean), this 1998 Wicked picture finds heavyweight Brad
Armstrong (star/director of "Swift Picks," "Jenna's Built for Speed," and
the unwatchable "Jenna Loves Rocco") at his misogynistic best. The dubbing
is all but flawless, and the acting, while never something to vaunt about,
is definitely a notch above the rest. Production values are another
improvement.
The opening sequence finds the titular
(emphasis on the "tit") starlet sitting on Eric Price's face in an idyllic
baseball setting while taking a little Herschell Savage in her mouth...okay,
alot of Savage. What I gathered from the film's narrow plot was something
about this salacious sports chick using each of her sexual conquests as the
subject of her weekly sports column. My only question is, why haven't Adam [Carolla]
and Jimmy [Kimmel] advertised this fuck feast on "The Man Show"? It blows
the Juggies out of the water, fo sho!
The golf segment with Mickey G., director
Armstrong, Katja, and Sydnee Steele is the highlight of this fun-filled
fornication romp. The hot blonde, the greens, and the "holes" conspire to
make this the "Caddyshack" of porn films. Speaking of which, they even have
the stone dumb groundskeeper type (i.e.: Mickey G.)
I am quickly learning that as pornography
goes, you can't get much better than Wicked Productions, a company that
strives to seem legitimate and even slightly avant garde at times. The
cutaways to pop culture appliances, as in most adult films, are reminiscent
of the Paul Morrissey-Andy Warhol canon ("Trash," "Heat," "Flesh," "Andy
Warhol's Dracula"). Realism or exploitation? You be the judge, kid sir(s).
The bowling sequence featuring Randy Spears
is a little perturbing, but only to those of us who have seen Spears (no
relation to Britney) look-alikes serving milkshakes in similar venues. That
is beside the point, though. The real prize here is the "Bride of
Double-Feature" trailer that precedes this fine motion picture. This alone
is worth the price of admission!
Of course, this film is no masterpiece by
anyone's standards. One gets the distinct impression that Miss Kean was
dreadfully miscast as the lead bitch in this motherfucker. The real,
pedantic porn star here is the venerable, raven-haired ecdysiast/fornicator
Sydnee Steele ("Heroin," "Chances"). Not only does she exude that sexy,
kinky charisma, but she is also the only actress(?) willing to take it in
the ass in this film. And what an ass it is. Tan, haply, firm and yet
supple-looking.
"Bitch, get wild/ Cuz freaky shit is what I
like/ And I love to see two bitches dyke/ My favorite time is sixty nine/
Bitch, you know it's koochie time/ Fuck what you heard and save the drama/
All I want is my hoochie mama."
If there is one performer that seems
capable of crossing over into mainstream and/or indie films, it is the
Sydnee siren with the awe-inspiring rack and the gift of blowjob/handjob
dexterity. Those lips look inviting, my dear girl. And I am gonna make you
guess which pair I am referring to.
For an early, cinema verity look at the
insatiable Mistress Steele, one should rent the obscure "Licking With
Passion" from her pre-Wicked days. Or you could visit this lascivious
wondergirl's regal website:
www.sydneesteele.com. Check out her Bomis profile
if you're low on cash or you don't have a credit card.
Somewhere between Demi Moore
("Striptease"), J-Lo, Mercedes Ruehl, and Raven, there is Sydnee Steele. And
what's more, that is her real first name (ala Briana Banks). Wholesome, huh?
If all this promotion if not enough
incentive for the lonely young man to run out and score a copy of both
("Sports Spectacular" and "Licking with Passion") on VHS or DVD, then allow
me to mention the money shots. If Katja Kean abstaining from anal
penetration inspired pathos, Sydnee and Katja's double facial in the golf
segment more than makes up for it.
Are you still feeling trepidacious about
purchasing “Sports Spectacular” (and "Licking with Passion")? Well, lest you
forget that this is the closest thing to pussy (or dick, depending on who
you are) that you will be seeing for awhile, you pathetic bastard! So fear
not, my son. You are making the right decision.
...It isn't the moral thing, is it? What is
pornographic in a country where our leaders ensconce the truth (i.e.:
Watergate, pre-Sept. 11th terrorism awareness, Enron, et al.), our
forefathers owned slaves, and our contemporary citizens sell Nazi
paraphernalia over the Internet? The question begs to be asked: How can an
innocuous cinematic fantasy starring consenting adults be branded amoral or
pornographic by folks who let their savior die on a cross atop Golgotha
under the blistering heat of the sun? Isn't it merely a cheap form of
voyeurism like other pop culture darlings such as "Survivor," “Candid
Camera,” "The Osbournes," and CNN?
Maybe the big shots will finally lighten up
one day, and admit that stag films are not where society went wrong. Until
then, we should all do good to get our hairy palms on these fine flicks.
Newsday, with its somber headlines and constant supply of yellow journalism,
is viewed as perfectly alright, but there is something too unorthodox and
evil about watching idealized versions of men and women copulating. Those
who make it are given the scarlet letter by Right wing bullshit artists,
unless they are Howard Stern types who make a comedic affair of it.
Why argue with adversity when you could be
in your desolate apartment getting off to these fine products? In fact, why
not go for the gold with battery-operated artificial facsimiles of Janine
Lindemulder's snatch? When all is said and done, it is the perfectly
orchestrated wet dream on the tele that prevents the repressed deviants of
America from going on a raping spree.
"It is lonely standing up and crowded lying
down."
---Hunter S. Thompson
I think the preceding quote works
beautifully as just the right double entendre the pervert, the porn star and
the revolutionary have been seeking to justify their behavior of late. When
you see someone like the iconoclast Asia Carrera investing her money in the
Dow Jones, you tend to wonder why more people don't have sex on video or
35mm for hard cash. Porno may seem like the territory of voracious
pimps/producers and whores with big dreams, but nothing could be more like
what goes on in the American male's head during those nocturnal emissions.
Porno = Truth.
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