As your faithful host, I have a sworn duty to uphold the constitution, protect this country against all enemies (foreign and domestic), and provide a weekly rant filled with hilarity, hi-jinx and good-natured ribbing of you, my faithful followers. But, thanks to fucking ASSHATS that can’t stay home from work when they’re sick let alone cover their fucking pie-holes when they cough, yours truly has now come down with a Christmas bug and is writing this high as fuck on Nyquil, Thera-Flu and vitamin C. Look I don’t want to get off on a rant here, but holy spread the virus, Batman! Look, I get it, you need to work, hell we all do. Working is what we do to kill the time between Facebook status updates (Hey everyone, I’m sad and single, here’s a picture of a whole lasagna I ate last night whilst watching America’s Got No Talent!) and Fantasy Football trade offers (No, I won’t trade you Tom Brady for your shitty defense and your one-legged kicker). We all have to work. Some of us get to work less than others and that’s cool. I will never begrudge anyone who can make shit work by working the least or the most amount of time. But if your job entails you to deal with people, any kind of people, be it your dumbass co-workers or your dumbass clients or dumbasses that meander in off the street, you need to STAY THE FUCK HOME if you are sick. Let me explain how viruses work. Let’s say you’re a, hmmm, I don’t know, a fucking bank teller at a branch Uncle Ben banks at. And then let’s say as a certain host is asking to withdraw cash to slip into his employees stockings as a Xmas bonus you decide now is the time for you to let out the cough of all coughs. Hey, I get it, coughing is the body’s natural reaction to expel bad shit and phlegm and other bacterium. We all do it, hell that guy from Pawn stars sounds like he’s expelling fucking E-Bola every time he laughs, but to do it DIRECTLY IN MY FACE WITHOUT COVERING YOUR FUCKING MOUTH is beyond rude and just plain old fucking mean. Hey everyone, we live in a society. That means we must all make sacrifices to keep said society in working order. That means stay the fuck home when you are sick, don’t bring your sick ass virus machine baby over and then proceed to tell me how it’s been deadly sick for 2 weeks but you can still hold it and for the love of Pete, stop taking pulls off of my beer if I offer it to you. Um, wait; I just realized that’s where I may have gotten sick. Damn, I hate these rants when I go down a rabbit hole and realize it just may be my own fucking fault. You know what, fuck it, you should still stay the fuck home and cover your mouth when you talk to me. In fact, I want everyone to stay home, sick or not. Uncle Ben needs a break from society anyway. But I digress…
So as all you nerds are waiting in line for some fucking movie about wookies and an old space pirate nailing an equally as old princess, I’ll politely pass. Not that I don’t enjoy a good fantasy movie. Hell, I just watched the fantasy adult erotica film Ronda Arouse-me, and that’s about as close as I’m going to get to her hammer-fisting my heavy bag. So I get it, you gather up your sleeping bag made out of a dead Ewok, pull out that camping chair and load some snackie-poos into your Yoda-shaped backpack and head to the movies 6 days before it opens to get a good seat. Is that about right? Value your time much? Why not wait an extra 32 hours and see that shit on a Monday in a half-empty theater? Afraid another fucking 56 year-old is going to ruin what is basically a kids’ movie for your ass? Just turn off the Internet. It’s liberating, trust me. I turned off the Internet and found porn DVDs I didn’t even know existed nevermind the fact I owned them. Star Wars: Attack of The Merchandise will still be there a few days after it’s released. Pretty sure that cash cow is going to run in theaters until Indiana Solo finally moves on to that great big archaeological dig on Tatooine. But that’s not what I came here to talk about. While all you droid-a-philes are drooling over that movie, I have a complaint about a certain movie about a certain alien fighting some rich cunt in a mask. No, not Ted Cruz vs. Donald Trump, I’m talking about the only fucking superhero that matters vs. some depressed orphan with a black Amex: Superman vs. Batman, Dawn Of Justice or as I like to call it: S v B, Dawn of the worst fight in history. Look, I don’t want to get off on a rant here but holy inconceivability, Batman! (Hey that actually worked there for once!!) I don’t give a shit what fucking suit ol’ Trust Fund Bruce puts on; he is still just a man. Flesh and blood. Skin and bone. Hell, it’s Ben Aflac. Other than having the coolest first name in history that dude sucks. Now granted I’ve never seen a movie he has been in but I can only assume he acts as well as he stays married. Too soon? Why don’t we just put Matt Damon in as Robin and make this a full-fledged shit show. I actually could get behind that. I love Matt Damon. I’ve seen everything he has ever done and he acts about as well as he stays married. Not soon enough? But enough about those wicked shitty actahs frahm Boston, let’s get back on track. So I’m supposed to believe that an alien from another planet whose only---let me repeat that---ONLY weakness is a rock from another planet that in reality the chances of it AND the superbaby-carriage making it to Earth AND someone finding both are slim to none. This is the guy who flew around the world in the opposite direction and turned back time. Granted he didn’t think about the ramifications of his actions. We had to deal with Lois Lane/Margot “Is This My House” Kidder for 3 more films but still, pretty impressive. He stops bullets with his body, shoots molten lava laser beams from his fucking eyes, can freeze anything with his breath and he is supposed to think Bruce “Cyber Punk” Wayne is a threat? Fuck Bruce and his complex. We get it, you watched your parents shot to death when you were a boy. Get over it. I lost my car keys the other day; you don’t see me dressing up like Optimus Prime and throwing around little car-shaped ninja stars, do ya? Ol’ Supes could literally pick up BW’s entire batcave and throw that shit into another galaxy—with one hand tied behind his back and one eye focused on Lois as she takes a reporter piss at the Daily Planet. Man, x-ray vision would be great. So save all your “what ifs” and “Ben Aflac really is a good actor” and all that shit. Supes wins 100 times out 100. But then again, I said the same thing about Ronda Drousey and look what happened. May the Force be with you all.
Dear Facebook. It’s me. Ben, your faithful servant since like 2010. Yeah, I was late in seeing your awesomeness. I stayed away. Watched you from a distance. Going over the perfect time in my mind when I would muster up the courage to finally ask you to be a part of my life. Then it finally happened. Oh joyous day! I remember it like it was 2010. Filling your pages with status updates and pictures of literally every meal I was eating. Nice chile relleno, Ben! Thanks Facebook. Looks like you had a good time at the ballgame, Ben! Thanks Facebook, I did. Hey, Ben, remember this guy/girl that you haven’t seen in 20 years? Well, here’s what he/she had for breakfast. Thanks, Facebook, you always know what I need to hear. We had it all, Facebook. Friends, bands, food and pictures of kids I don’t care about. It was glorious. You understood that Social Media was never meant to be taken too seriously. It was about prompting social interaction and promoting social events. Come see my band, Facebook! Come read my blog, Facebook! Come look at how much my kid has grown since last night, Facebook! It was the best of times. I never wanted it to end. But then you changed. You started seeing other people. People I never thought you would see. People who update their status on the way to the hospital after hearing their parent just had a severe heart attack. Is he/she ok? No idea, thought I’d check in to the Emergency Room first, LOL/sad face! Types of people who want me to pray for their plants because they look depressed. Types of people who didn’t care what I had for breakfast the last 31 days. Types of people that didn’t care that I met Dave Grohl at a Transcendental Meditation class and then went and got a FroYo together. Types of people that like a virus slowly infected everything that was good and decent with you - racist, unabashed, stupid, sociopathic, psychotic assholes. Look, I know you went through a difficult time. We all remember the 2012 Election, but this is different. I used to look forward to seeing your little blue icon light up with red notifications every morning as I awoke. But now I hesitate before I give you the slightest touch. You’re cold and distant. You make me upset every time we are together. I feel that you’ve gone down a path you cannot come back from. So it with a heavy heart that I must say farewell to you and your new crowd of race-baiting, vitriolic, non fact-checking, Trump-supporting clique of “cool kids”. I’d like to say I’d wait for you as you weed out these asshats and realize what you’re giving up but I just can’t. So, goodbye Facebook, we had some good times, some bad times and some times I drunkenly can’t remember. Hope you and your new friends have a great time without me. I’m perfectly happy here on Twitter. Oh yeah, that reminds me… Dear Twitter, it is with a heavy heart that…
So as we sit in a world full of violence, misogyny, terrorism, racism, xenophobia and any other Scrabble-worthy word you can think of, I can only watch so many viral videos that make me lose my faith in humanity. But as I waited for my eyes and my faith to start bleeding as I scanned the plethora of cats and Star Wars shit on YouTube, I noticed a little video of some fast food executive beating the shit of an Uber driver and couldn’t help but think… good. Good for that guy. Fuck Uber up its giant loophole-havin’ ass. Look, I don’t want to get off on a rant here – and I certainly do not want to deny anyone the opportunity to make money – but holy DC Cab, Mr. T! As someone who recently was rated 5 stars (out of 37, apparently) on Uber AND someone who knows the value of a sober ride to and from the bar(s) I frequent, I thought this Uber thing was a fucking godsend. Take me to and from a bar for 8 bucks? Fucking sign me and my sketchy criminal record up! But then one foggy summer’s eve, Uber came to say, Benny with your drunky on, we’re gonna fleece you out of $100 and accuse you of puking in said Uber and charge you $200 for that! Fucking Rudolph had it better! Hey Uncle Ben, it was jut one driver that tried to fuck you and your hard earned money up right? Why so serious? Well, I’ll tell you. ‘Twas only after threat of a lawsuit (who am I Perry Fucking Mason), countless emails of them accusing me of not knowing where I lived (the Uber ended up in Riverside or Redlands or some shit) AND a virtual photo lineup of my mug for the driver was I refunded my dolla dolla bills y’all. So fuck that company. Fuck those drivers. Fuck the fact that they skirt the federal, state and local laws that require background checks and hack licenses. Fuck the fact that they charge ½ the price of regular cabs. Fuck the fact that their cars always smell like what I imagine Heaven smells like (Olivia Munn’s inner thighs). Fuck the fact that maybe they’re providing a service and providing jobs for people looking to make ends meet. You know what? I’ve changed my mind. I’d write more but my LYFT is here. And it smells like Aaron Rodgers. Fuck me running. But I digress…
Democracy: A government of the people, by the people and for the people. That is, those people who actually take the time to participate. Look, they’re certain things we take for granted that one can overlook. There’s the fact that we have moderately clean air to breathe. Water that comes from a pipe every single time you want it to. Food that is available for consumption without the threat of disease, contamination or root beer (seriously, how anyone can like that shit is beyond me). We wake up every morning and have it the best of anyone else on this planet. Or perhaps in this universe. We really don’t know how those fucks from Ork are doing now that their only visitor Mork took the leather belt challenge a bit too far and is now running around with Mindy in that Denver apartment in the sky. Too soon? Too nanoo nanoo? So you’d imagine my surprise when one gets an actual opportunity to participate in ensuring that we get to keep and maintain our comfortable lifestyle that he/she completely and fucking ignorantly throws that opportunity in the proverbial garbage bin. Look, I don’t want to get off on a rant here but holy hanging chad Batman! I get it, you saw a George Carlin bit from 1981 and now you think it’s cool not to vote. Well played, Carlin. But before you enjoy that 99 cent burger or that airbag-having vehicle, take a minute to think where all that shit came from. Laws were passed. Representatives were elected to ensure we have clean water and max-strength condoms. Sorry, that was the name of my last band – Clean Water. I know, I know, the system sucks. Hell, the system may be fucking broken. But it sure as fuck ain’t beyond repair. And ANY change that you hear the abstainers bitch and moan about has to come from the grassroots level. Local politics. We need a third party system in the national electorate like I need a beer – very badly. But we cannot expect to gain any momentum on that front without participation. And that participation must start with a better turnout than 42%. That’s the number of eligible voters that turned out in November 2014 in California. (I’m not even going to mention the turnout for our most recent local municipal elections. It’s embarrassing.) And that’s not counting the adults who are eligible but don’t seem to care enough to actually register. So keep complaining, keep crying your eyes out because your taxes are too high. Yes we know, Obama is taking away your guns and Trump will build a wall to keep his sanity intact. As long as your Frosty is nice and smooth and roach-free, you don’t give enough of a shit to do something about it. But unfortunately for you, it’s those types of people that keep your cool dessert nice and bug-free. Think about that next time you pass the polls, middle-fingering democracy whilst getting your dogma from dead comedians. But hey, people voted for Tricky Dick so maybe I’m way off on this whole “everyone should vote” thing. But I digress…