Everyone hates chickens.

There are many many reasons to hate chickens: The interminable chirping, the random and furious fecal dispersing, that red skin booger attached to their heads. But do you know what the very worst chicken offense is? It’s their need to scream like little idiots every time the sun rises. If you or I started screaching at the top of our lungs everytime the great fireball rises in the sky, we’d be rightfully ostracized from the community at large (note: the same fireball that appeared yesterday, and the day before that, and every day before that for fucking millenia. Seriously, get a clue, chickens). But chickens are allowed to carry on unabated.

Assholes.

And we all just look the other way because we know they will soon meet their destiny as an unfinished McNugget casually tossed to the side of a tray in suburban Iowa. But not today!

That’s right. Take this, chickens. You deserve it.

Within every snow globe house resides a teeny little Christmas family whose entire experience of the world is a perpetual Rockwellian holiday. From their perspective, the Universe is an unending wholesome family moment, save for the occasional massive earthquake immediately followed by a curiously abrupt blizzard.

The globe people’s whole notion of reality is their comfy little gingerbread house and the swirling colors in the blurred expanse beyond it. They never question their existence, they just continue singing carols, roasting chestnuts, and bracing for the next bout of God’s unsustained Christmas fury.

But on this particular day—completely beyond their ability to comprehend—their entire world looks like it is being sat on by a pair of cherubic buttocks. Makes you think. What do you think is happening beyond our species’ horizons? #TheMatrix

Every year, the Wall Street stock exchange cuts down a ginormous tree to make their Christmas tree. They’re desperately trying to counter their Scrooge McDuckiness through the power of their tree-buying abilities. Unfortunately for the plutocracy, what these fat cats can’t buy is protection from a finger shaped like a butt poopin’ out their big ol’ tree.

#OccupyFOREVER!

Well, hello. What is this funny little contraption? Some form of public art that represents Man’s outreach into the universe being blocked off by cold urban design, perhaps? No. This is an urban umbrella.

The urban umbrella is the result of a competition funded by NYC to redesign the ubiquitous construction scaffolds that fill the urban forests and make neighborhood living a beeeitch. I suppose they were also meant to defend the city’s many pedestrians from the onslaught of fingers bent to resemble a derriere. But in that function, they have failed.

Miserably.

During a recent trip to Costa Rica, I took the time out of my busy schedule to knucklebutt the magestic landscape. I hope the Costa Rican nation will be understanding that this had to be done.

First, here’s a picture of the picturesque volcano, Arenal. Which, despite its tourist gravity, has not been active in over a year. Therefore, it is now in a butt:

And then we have a knucklebutt from the mountain town of Monteverde, Costa Rica. To be clear, there was a rainbow which is supposed to be the subject of this knucklebutt, but instead the main focus is the church in the background. I meant no disrespect to the people of Monteverde or to their church. But it just sort of happened that way.

I recently sent shockwaves through the mediascape by being the first to dare post Sarah Palin’s naked sexxxy butt photos.

Much of the elite jew media has still, regrettably, decided to ignore this Eskimo sex romp bombshell. While I am disgusted by their cowardice, I understand their fear of intimidation from horny survivalists and sad, confused retirees who form the bulk of Sarah Palin’s powerbase.

Recently, Sarah took to her favorite website FaceBook, where she gathers to talk politics and chat with boys. She posted a topical essay decrying the NAACP for suggesting that members of the Tea Party are racists. She references Ronald Regan in there too. I don’t know why.

A few things are strange about this post. One: the “Tea Party” is not actually a party and the majority of its followers find tea, as a lifestyle choice, to be elitist and faggy. And second, nowhere does she address the shameful butt photos. This post was yet another ploy to avoid confronting this sexy bombshell!!

But knucklebutts.net is one media outlet she will not be able to avoid.

So, I took to her FB entry (my comment has been removed) to directly confront her on this pressing issue.

Sarah, I still haven’t heard any response from your team about your dirty dirty sex photos:
http://www.knucklebutts.net/2010/07/07/sarah-palin-sex-photo-scandal-explosion/

As of posting this entry, the Palin camp has still not responded.

But her minions did!

Jerry Amos, who according to his FaceBook profile is male, enjoys Playing and Recording music, and has 20 friends had some very good points to make about Sarah’s ButtPhotoGate.

Mr. Amos, I swear on the constitution of the United States that no Photoshop was used on these damning hot sexy butt photos. But don’t take my word for it. Examine them for yourself. Afterward, I’m sure you’ll agree, since no Photoshop was used, then the only other possibility is that they are 100% true. Sarah Palin was, in fact, with that naked butt. Can you think of another possible explanation of how these photos came to be? I can’t.

Meanwhile Jenniver Cavaliere Allen of Tampa Florida, who is a member of the Facebook groups O.B.A.M.A. (One Big Ass Mistake, America), and DEAR LORD, THIS YEAR YOU TOOK MY FAVORITE ACTOR, PATRICK SWAYZIE made a very good point of her own:

Jennifer, you are just saying that because you are a poop face. I CLEARLY realize the importance of emphasizing the inherent evil of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People. Everyone agrees with that. Also the great civil rights leader Ronald Reagan is the perfect person to bring into this discussion (even though he was a big homo who cut and run in Beirut and was a big liberal pussy on illegal Mexicans. AMIRIGHT?! I am!). No one would dare attack anything Sarah Palin says as absurd. But I am asking her to do the right thing and apologize to the nations—via Facebook AND on Oprah—for this damning sex photo. Only then can we truly find that, as Ronald Reagan said, “the glory of this land has been its capacity for transcending the moral evils of our past.”

Isn’t it time Sarah Palin let this country move forward?

I try to steer clear of politics. However, I recently came upon an image which has the potential political impact of a hydrogen bomb! Where I acquired this very controversial dynamo of an image is not important. But what is important is that it involves former Governor and Fox News Pundit Sarah Palin taking part in one of the most debaucherous and depraved activities I have ever laid my eyes on.

Like many sexy scandals involving powerful politicians,  the elite media just aren’t willing to believe it’s true. Some have even disparaged this image as “stupid” and “a finger shaped like a butt in front of a picture of Sarah Palin you found on the internet.” But these detractors are just jealous. And jerks.

I, for one, had a long and hard debate with myself whether I should be the one to light this political sex firecracker. Why not leave this sizzling  scandal for the Brian Williams and Geraldo Riveras of the world? Why be so brave? But in the end, I just felt I had to step up and do what was right. And I would be willing to take whatever recourse or monetary compensation in the form of book deals or first-interview rights come my way for bringing this modern day Watergate to light.

In the coming days and weeks I’m sure there will be a lot of uncomfortable questions between children and parents as the curious minds of the innocent ponder “what is Governor Palin doing with that butt?”

I don’t know if there is any good answer to that.

Some people think she’s simply gawking with doe-eyed amazement at the rotund and cherub-like buttocks. While others think the butt is sitting directly on top of her head as a sort of squishy love hat. But whatever it is, she sure seems to be shamefully reveling in this naughty scandalous feast of flesh.

Meanwhile, everyday Americans like you will debate what should happen to Sarah Palin as a result of this damning hot sex potato. Speaking only for myself, I’m not quite ready to forgive Mrs. Palin for this notorious and shocking sexy butt photo scandal. Not yet. But in the end, her judgment is not up to me. It’s up to whoever’s butt this is that she decided to be all sexy and naughty with, and her God.

Sage Francis is Rhode Island’s most important contribution to hip-hop since a young Chubb Rock described to a Gulf War–weary nation the rightness with which he was going to treat them.

Recently the lauded emcee announced he will no longer tour nationally so he can dedicate more time sticking it to corporations. Sage’s recent show at Webster Hall in NYC was the very last show of this very last tour. And since rappers always keep to their word about retiring, knucklebutts had to be there.

As a showman, Sage never disappoints. However as a model who I needed to place inside a pair of faux-butt cheeks, Francis seemed to always be one chess move ahead. He must of figured out that if he never came close to my side of the stage and pointed the stagelights directly at me, the camera on my outdated iPhone 3G would be rendered near useless and my attempts to knucklebutt him would be thwarted.

Touché, Mr. Francis. Tou-fucking-ché.

I am a fan. And I really wanted to get a good clear picture of Sage rhyming away beneath my finger in the shape of a butt. But it was not to be. See:

There was one upside to the night, at least. At the end of his set, Sage symbolically passed the mic onto a new generation of plus-sized bearded muckraker emcees in the form of labelmate B. Dolan. During his opening set, Mr. Dolan was, for his part, far more gracious in making himself available for a good old-fashioned knucklebutting.

Thank you, rapface. I appreciate it.

–
For more reading fun, here’s a link to an interview I did with Sage going way back.

So, we’ve got the menu set for our new hip little Tribeca cafe. Color scheme? Check. Health codes? Up to snuff. But what should we name our contemporary urban luncherie? We want a name that will grab people’s attention but will also let them know we offer a gourmet twist on American comfort food along with an array of healthy, locally sourced fare… Well, what do you think of naming it “Columbine”? Yeah, spelled exactly like the school shooting.

Now hear me out: it may seem a little odd that, of all the possibilities out there, we would name our little food spot the same as one of the most spectacular mass carnages in American history. But the Manhattan lunch scene is competitive, we need to find a way to stand out. We, of course, could go the safe road with something like “Tony’s Coffee Hole” or “Le Cafe Tribeca Top Hat.” My first reaction? SNOOZE!  Columbine, on the other hand, left an indelible mark on the nation’s psyche that will last decades. And that’s how branding works. That’s how we’re gonna move muffins.

In fact, national tragedies can be our whole theme—we could have Sharon Tate Red Velvet Cake and Princess Di Oatmeal Pie… what, too far?… Well, we’ll revisit that later. But let’s still keep Columbine as our name. Now, just to make sure, we’re going to spell it exactly like the high school where those two kids killed 11 of their classmates and committed suicide, right? No “Columbine Coffehouse” or anything? Good. That way, as far as a Google search is concerned, there is no zero differentiating our eatery from links and photos recounting one of the grimmest days in modern times. And then, after people get that in their minds, they will become sad and introspective and then they’ll start thinking along the lines of “a roast beef sandwich on sour dough with wasabi mayo would probably pick me up.” Cha-ching!

That’s smart business.

Now, the one downside I see of this—the only downside—is that we may encourage someone to take a picture of our little storefront lunch spot inside a butt and put it on the internet. But that’s a risk we’ve got to be willing to take.

Yesterday, I introduced the world to CNN, a cable news network that collects their news from tweets and assorted Justin Bieber message boards. They were covering Puma City at the New York City Seaport in honor of the World Cup. It’s a celebration of everything Futbol! Plus it also has a Belgian waffle truck for some reason.

In honor of the global brotherhood that the World Cup represents, I would like to bring all these soccer players of different nationalities, ages, and socioeconomic backgrounds together under one butt. Finally, the dreams of President Woodrow Wilson and Dr. Martin Luther King have come to fruition.