Thursday, May 25, 2006

Jose Can You, Si?

Enough is enough already. I'm tired of hearing about immigrants, illegals, guest workers, amnesty, Vicente Fox and, most of all, deporting 11 million people. Talk about beating a dead burro! What do you say we reopen Ellis Island and move all of these "peoples" through there like cattle and document the hell out of them. It was good enough back in the day.
Since I'm getting my two pesos in, I need to get something else off of my manly chest. This whole debate started several weeks ago when a bunch of disenfranchised Mexicans in L.A. decided to get organized and take to the streets. What a set of cajones these dudes have! Can you imagine going to another country (illegally, mind you) and starting a protest march over the way you are treated there? What kind of toro-shit is that?
Having our immigration policy dictated to us by a bunch of non-citizens can be pretty humiliating, but the Hairy Carrot has an answer for this.
First, we get our guys our of Iraq. The new Prime Minister says he won't need us in a few months, so let's take his word for it.
Second, we take those troops and invade Mexico. Spring breakers have been doing it for years anyway and, I promise, there won't be an insurgency there.
Next, we make it our 50th state. "But, H.C., we already have 50 states," you're saying. I am aware of that, but who says we can't demote Alaska back to "territory" status. That way we don't have to a) redesign our flag and b) listen to that whore Senator Stevens who keeps milking my tax dollars for his home state. Besides, we're already getting screwed by the Mexicans that are here because they're sending all that dinero back home. That money could be taxed through our coffers for a change and pay for the Hairy Carrot Museum and Home for Promiscuous Girls. Now there's a plan for everybody!

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

Bathroom Grafitti

"Here I sit, broken hearted..."
You know the rest. Nothing highbrow about it. Basic, whimsical bathroom graffiti. And don't think that it's limited to the johns in bars, restaurants and convenience stores, although that's where the best stuff is.
The Hairy Carrot can attest to seeing some fine work in the stalls of an on-campus library at a major university. Of course, the gist had something to do with the school's archrivals.
There are major themes that are found in the stalls. In no particular order, they are as folllows:

The invitation for sex - "For good head, call Brad at 555-5555" or "Be here at 5pm for a b.j." Does anyone really call the number or return to the stall at the appointed time? (For informational purposes, we've found a lot of offers for oral sex from "males", even though we were not in gay establishments. The Carrot seems to feel that Brad didn't actually make the offer, but instead, one of his alleged friends did.)

The poetry - "Here I sit in stinky vapor, because someone stole the paper". Are we to empathize with the writer's plight? Can we not feel his pain? Did someone steal the paper or just fail to replace the paper with a new roll?

The humor - "How do you get a nun pregnant? You fuck her!" or more seminal pieces like "Famous Jisms - Jism Carter, Jism Hendrix, Jism Cracked Corn and I Don't Care, etc". Sometimes the humor will be conveighed through poetry, but bathroom poetry is not always humorous.

The preferred tool of grafitti is a black felt tip marker(a ballpoint pen is strictly for amateurs). This leads us to the next questions: Where does the marker come from? Does someone carry a marker into a nightclub or bar with the intention of writing on the walls of the bathroom? Do they scrawl on the wall as they piss? Do they smuggle the marker in their asses like a drug mule? Too many questions, not enough answers.
Let the Hairy Carrot know how you feel and share your best readings/writings with us.

Monday, May 22, 2006

How To Solve George Clooney's Problem

Remember a few years ago, when the paparazzi were killing princesses and the celebrity world got in a tizzy about it? Who took on these leeches like a man? George Clooney, that's who!! He told them that he wasn't playing anymore of their little games and they got the message. Now, when he takes a stroll down a red carpet, they put the cameras down and pout like the pussies they are.
On the other hand, he could have used a different tact. So, if you are famous and need to get those pesky cameras out of your face, follow this plan.
First, hire two actors. One to play a paparazzi, preferably a male (known for our purposes as Dick). Hell, let him go undercover for a few days and get to know some of the real paparazzi. Then hire an older attractive woman to play his mother (we'll call her Ma).
Next, let these guys see you going into a hotel, even better, a skanky motel with Ma. Four hours later, you both leave, looking disheveled but satisfied. At this point, you let it be known that you afternoon delight has been discovered. Dick screams, "Ma, is that you?" She nods.
George Clooney could pull the last part off perfectly. "Yeah, I boned your mother, and she loved every minute of it. Especially when I put my ..." You get the idea. "And you know what, I'm looking forward to sticking it to all of your mothers."
Dick is crushed. Ma puts a smoke in her mouth and begs to go back for more random sex.
The only thing more perfect than this plan is boning an actual mom of the actual paparazzi.
Now I realize that George Clooney has more on his plate than this, what with helping the Darfurians (I think Captain Kirk fought them once). That's cool. But wouldn't it be great to see him going down the red carpet, point at a flashing camera and saying, "I'm tore your mom a new one last night" and mean every word of it?

Thursday, May 18, 2006

Honky Like Me

Honky. Can the word itself destroy society we live in? Can any word do such a thing? I doubt it. Of course, in the world of political correctness, words can hurt, maim, spindle and kill. I've heard of being killed with kindness, but that is another matter.
"Mr. Carrot, I hereby sentence you to death, by kindness." Then a sweet lady comes in and keeps feeding you her delicious apple pie and tells you how much you've grown and shit until you get so sick of her, you kill yourself.
Let's get back to words that kill. George Jefferson, a great thinker and dry cleaner in his day, used the "H" word excessively, usually at the expense of Mr. Bentley or Tom Willis. Granted, they were some serious honkies, in the same way that Frasier Crane, his brother Niles, and anyone who enjoys classical music are serious honkies. But old George said it with such vitriol and venom in his voice, that it became a racial slur. Where was the outrage?
Archie Bunker, the true foil of George Jefferson, never used the "N" word. He was much more imaginative, and he should be an inspiration to us all. When you can't think of the right epithet, use something else, like "cockroach" or "Rush Limbaugh listener".
Remember, when words are outlawed, only outlaws will have words. Deep, huh?
Not to whore out Hairy Carrot, but stylish Honky shirts are available. Check out the links on All the cool kids have one.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Little Bastards

Recently I rediscovered an old love and it was purely by accident. I was out of town on a business trip and needed to do a little shopping. It went down something like this.
Setting: A retail store. A toddler with an inattentive mother was making quite a scene, screaming, pulling merchandise off the racks and, in general, being a brat. In the middle of this shopping nightmare, I looked at the salesgirl (at this store they're called "associates" which for some reason, cracks me up) and remarked that the child was a "noisy little bastard".
Now this is where it got good. The associate confirmed my suspicions by saying something to the effect of, "You wouldn't say that to her boyfriend." She obviously knew the mommy and "da baby-daddy".
"Boyfriend? Well, then the kid is a bastard," I stated calmly. "Come to think about it, there's a lot of little bastards around here lately."
Those words cut through the associate's heart like a knife through steamy shit. She didn't care for my explanation of the obvious.
"You are aware that bastards are children born out of wedlock, aren't you?" I said smugly, hiding behind my position of "the customer is always right".
"A lot of kids parents' ain't married," she said curtly. "My boyfriend and me ain't married and we got us two kids."
She was getting defensive, but proving my point at the same time. Since I didn't live in Bastardville, I figure I'm not going to see this lovely young lady again.
"Well, then by definition, you have some little bastards at home." Silence. "Thanks for your time".
Hairy Carrot doesn't want to take up space with all kinds of commentary describing the downfall of society on this blog. Beside, I'm sure those sorry little bastards are the light of her life.

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

I'm Not Really Sorry - Half-Assed Apology

The May 8, 2006 posting on this blog stated that the "Official" Atlantic Beach Bike Festival website was crappy because it had no real information concerning the festival. We at Hairy Carrot stand by the blog. As stated, the organizers were only three weeks out from a major festival, and the site was nearly blank.
However, upon checking the site in recent days, schedules, entertainment, and other information that we just can't live without was there. Hell, even somebody name DJ Cowboy is going to perform!! Maybe there'll be a special appearance by Waylon Jennings. Yeehiii!!
Unfortunately for us all, my wish for the Redneck Comedy tour hitting the festival won't come true. Can't we all just get along?

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

I Can't Make This Up!!/ May Bike Fests Vol 2

Let me start off by saying if anything here is offensive, I've done my job well. Making you think is my job.
The NAACP stirred up a pile of shit a few years ago by suing the local governments and businesses on the Grand Strand for discrimination (what else?). This included restaurants closing, differing traffic schemes and general "we don't like the way our black brothers are being treated". Seems EVERYTHING should be equal between streetbikes and Harley-Riders. But let's turn the tables for a moment.
The town of Atlantic Beach (a "black owned town" according to the official website) has decided to charge a $10 fee for admission to their town this year and this is where the NAACP needs to step in. You see, there isn't an admission fee for those honkies on the Harleys if they want to enter the town during the Harley Bike Fest. Smells like discrimination to this Hairy Carrot. Will the NAACP sue Atlantic Beach for on the behalf of the black bikers because the Harley dudes don't pay during their bike fest?
Of course I've turned around two completely different issues and confused the facts enough to make you wonder. And that's exactly what the NAACP does. Who says a honky can play that game too.
On a lighter note, the Hairy Carrot Nation decided to cancel the annual Rumpshaker Contest due to public outcry. It will be replaced by a Badonkadonk Contest. Venues are still being considered.

Monday, May 08, 2006

I Can't Make This Stuff Up!!/May Bike Fests

Okay, here's the deal. Atlantic Beach, SC is about to hold their annual Bikefest on Memorial Day weekend. For those of you who aren't familiar with this shindig, it's three days of mostly black chicks with big asses wearing butt floss. For the locals, it's one of the best weekends for getting out of town.
Atlantic Beach is about four (count 'em, 4!) blocks long. It looks like a bomb hit it in the 1950's and nobody bothered to clean up the mess. The thriving businesses include a bustling titty bar, a video store, a couple of motels, a head shop, and an adult bookstore. I may have missed something, but that's the highlights.
Now, guess which of the following are also in Atlantic Beach: doctor's office, hardware store, florist, bank, insurance office, car dealership, office supply store, school, Italian restaurant and McDonalds. That's right, kids - none of the above. But I digress.
Here we are, three weeks out, so I checked out the official website, and the lack of information is hilarious.
For example, unless these idiots have hired a band called the Performers (doubtful), they haven't even hired a band. Many of the tabs information about the festival come back with a vague "coming soon". Did I mention this is three weeks away? Can you say "clusterfuck"?
The organizers of this great event are expecting anywhere from 250,000 to 350,000 attendees. Will they be squeezed in tighter than the bikini bottoms on some of the chicks there? I doubt it because this is the first year the town expects these folks to shell out $10 a pop (more on this later) just to get into town. For what?
My gut says the headliner won't be Larry the Cable Guy.

Friday, May 05, 2006

Everyone Is A Guest Worker On Cinco De Mayo

Okay, someone has some "splainin'" to do around here. This past Monday, protest marches and boycotts took place in a "Day Without Immigrants". Were these illegal immigrants, legal immigrants or a mixture? I'm not going to beat around the bush here, so let's get politically incorrect and just call them Mexicans. The point was to show what it would be without them and their contributions to our economy, schools, and most effectively, Mexican restaurants. I sure did learn my lesson.
Did they also boycott hospitals when they got sick or hurt? Did they boycott crime? I'm not saying all of these folks are criminals, but have you looked in your county jail lately? I have and you'd be surprised at the demographics. Don't want to visit, ask the jailer.
The President says it's unrealistic to deport 11 million people. But what about the lady from Russia or Slovenia who is here with a green card and is in the system? If her visa ran out yesterday, she's screwed. INS will be all her like stink on dog crap, while Pedro in the jailhouse doesn't have to worry because he's probably working under a fake name, social security number, etc.
Happy Cinco De Mayo, amigos!!

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

Hairy Carrot - The Beginning Vol 1

Hopefully this will be the first of many blogs on this site. Content will include humor, sarcasm, cynical remarks, and deeply relevant insight (see sarcasm).