Banner Jump Joint...

GOVERNMENT CHEESE from The Banner Jump on Myspace.

Anxiety Level Rising, Irritation Level Keeps Pace...

So, this fucking Trump thing, it just won't go the fuck away. What started as a joke, progressed to a spectacle, has ballooned into a full-blown, fucking, nightmare. Jesus Trump, do us all a favor and hang yourself in the closet while masturbating. Oh, I know. Trump only masturbates in a room full of mirrors, but a guy can wish. The thing I'm really struggling with, is my utopian vision of democracy. You know, everyone has a vote and a valid point of view. Well, I'm rethinking that. I'm starting to feel like the fucking idiots are dragging me along on their stupid idea express and God-damn it, I want the fuck off. I don't like the idea that a dumb-ass that can't extrapolate their plan to it's horrific, if not apocalyptic, bloody end, so I have to be involved while they "try" it. Just because you are too stupid to see Trump as the grifter he so obviously is, doesn't mean I should have to let him make America fucked again so that I can say "see asshole?" I'm starting to think that perhaps the intelligent 25% of our country should use this advantage to oppress the 75% of jack-asses and shut them the fuck up. It wouldn't be too hard. Oh sure, we'd have to suspend the constitution and impose some kind of emergency marshall law, but if that were ever warranted, now is the time. If that prospect makes you uncomfortable, how about dividing the country into two, and letting the conservatives govern their inland empire the way they see fit, and us liberals will run the coasts the way we want, and in 25 years, compare notes(If we haven't had to destroy them). Oh sure, they would think they had the world by the short hairs, due to their media spewing propaganda instead of news, but when they see how well our system of common sense has done for us, maybe they will come around. HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! I know, ridiculous. They haven't let reality intrude on their fair and balanced view of the world yet, no reason to think they ever will. I guess the only thing to do is systematically exterminate them. We'll call it a "fair and balanced" approach to the stupidity epidemic. If we wrap it in an American flag topped with shiny new Jesus-fish and play some country music in the background, serve pizza with hot dog crust, free ice cold Bud, and 'Dew for the little ones. Keep all of the participants lily white. Screen for GBLT types. Live stream it on Facebook. Bill it as, "They're going fast, so don't miss out on your chance to own your own little slice of heaven!!!!" Then send 'em to the afterlife. Good luck and goodbye!

Here is another re-mix off of my album 15 on One:

2 In A Day...

Here Ya Go-

Interwebs, come September....

Shout out to Frizzo, for taking care of bizzo. Now, I can air my dirty laundry on the interwizzo. Fo shizzle. ENOUGH! If your cracker-ass mind was unable to decipher my street-jive, I was merely rejoicing at the fact that the Clover Valley house has high speed internet service, and a decent cable package. If that wasn't enough good news, my girl called me up and said, "come and get me". So I did. And the girl got, got. So I'm going to run up to Wallyworld and grab some milk for my ice cream tonight, and my Fruit Loops with Mutherfucking Marshmallows, tomorrow morning, bitch.

The summer has left with a pussy-like whimper. That's okay. Fall is an especially kick ass time of year here in the PNW. The trout bite again. The forest beckons. The Seahawks, oh, the mighty Seahawks! The M's just miss the playoffs for the 67th year in a row. The Huskies begin their quest towards relevancy. That smell...Arrives with the school bells and lingers until after Thanksgiving. We have really gotten a lot of projects done over this summer. Now, with time running out, we must pull together as a team and button up all of the loose ends. Not a lot, but, important just the same. A little pixie dust, makes opiated into...OPIATED!!!! Now that we are back on the grid, I will be able to dole out every delicious detail. It will be as if you were riding on my shoulder like Toucan Sam.........................Good day peeps, good damn day.

I'll Blog When I Can...

When I can't, I'll just pray to sweet baby Jesus. My Interweb is off. Why? In the existential meaning, who knows? In the literal, cause we didn't pay the mutherfucking bill yo. Money is tight. Decisions had to be made. Don't you worry your pretty little head though, Branden has got a few hustles in the works. I'm about to pick up Katy and go to a S.M.A.R.T. recovery meeting. What is smart recovery you ask? No you did not. Who the hell is Katy is what you were wondering? Well, let me say "none of your beeswax". I'm not sure exactly. I hope to know more after this fine evening. The weather is not sure if it's crappy or happy. M's are doing just fine. Won today against the O's 7-2. That makes us 23-17, first fucking place. MmHmmmm. First series loss at home by the O's. M's are for real. Katy is a peach. I met her at rehab. She made rehab fun. Yes, I like her a lot. Yes like that. Well, I don't know. I think so, but I will let her decide for herself. No, I don't kiss and tell. Hahaha. Yes, I do. Get this, she is a singer. I know. She could be "the one". We will definitely let her lay down some vox. So, I gotta go live this shit before I have anything to blog about...Later peeps.

Hawks get healthy and I get laid...

Well, it was ugly.  That statement is true for the Seahawks and for me and Valerie.  We both realized it was time for rededicating ourselves to the fundamentals.  The Seahawks and I, not Valerie.  So, the Hawks got back to the run, and I got back to hitting on any girl I like, knowing the numbers would favor me sooner or later.  Oh, sure, I struck out a few times before I made solid contact(baseball analogies work better for chick stories), but eventually I drove one out of the park.  Is she crazy?  Bat shit.  Does that make for better sex?  You better believe it.  Do I ask too many rhetorical questions?  Probably. Will I please stop?  For now.  In other news, my Dawgs got beat again.  My fantasy football team got tuned up big time.  In cooking news, I made a chorizo and cheese omelet that was fucking awesome.  Sometimes you gotta break a few eggs to make an omelet. Actually every time. Without eggs it's something else entirely.  Any who, in da weather, last night was a hella wind storm. Lightning and rain and power outages.  Oh my!  Today was a nice October day, sunny and 60*.  Kind of like my betty situation, yesterday was crap, today sunny.  Life is like that.  AA zombies will tell you that's God in action.  Bullshit. Brandensbaked will tell you that your brain has been fine tuned over millions of years to look for patterns, so patterns are what you see.  Who is right?  I guess there's no way to tell until you die, and there in lies the rub. At least with my theory you get to stay off of your knees.  I suggest you think it through and make up your own fucking mind you God damned lemming.  Peace and titties fools.

Gods and Punks

If anyone has been following "Gamergate", you've no doubt heard about these spineless fucks, who, from their parents basements, threaten female-rights advocates.  They mercilessly harass any female who puts forth ideas that threaten the status quo, as far as females being portrayed as helpless, sexy, playthings, that need to be rescued by the male archetype superhero(nerds on an Xbox).  Now if you read my blog, and I hope you do, you know that I objectify women.  In my reality, which I create, women are sexy, dumb, and horny.  I also fantasize that sooner or later these horny women will probably need some kind of rescue.  Hopefully by yours truly.  Hopefully followed by steamy, kinky sex.  With me.  I don't begrudge the "gamers" this world view.  The problem arises when one of these females has an opinion that differs from the "gamers".  Now, when I offend one of these independent, strong-willed women, I expect to be ruthlessly spanked and forced to lick their leather stilettos. Hand-cuffed to a giant wheel, I soon regret my sins. These socially retarded trolls however, use their advanced interweb skills to reveal sensitive personal information of the outspoken women, like addresses and social security numbers.  The goal is to silence these dissenters, and any other women who may be thinking of speaking out, by making them fear for their personal safety.  These chickenshit, anonymous punks hide behind screen names, like, "gamerfag69", or "joystickmick", while the courageous women they harass have the balls to publish under their true identity.  Well let me just say this, I am willing to beat any of these threatening trolls half to death in exchange for sex with the fine assed female being harassed. You punks might run the interweb, but real life is my domain. Peace and titties fools.

Climate Change Fails To Deliver As Predicted

Well, the tree hugger's got caught with their pants down and pecker in hand, after pseudo scientists predicted a massive global catastrophe would be unleashed on 12-12-2012. These so called experts claimed that the gravitational pull from all of the 12's aligning along the  orbital axis of the date plane would cause a major tectonic shift throwing the world into a violent, apocalyptic ho-down, fulfilling the prophecy and setting off all of the violent events predicted by the Mayans, Christans, Jews, Muslims, Rasputin, Edgar Cayce, Nostradamus, and the psychic hot line. For some skeptics, the lack of destruction was a welcomed blow to the balls of the so-called "experts", who continually fill the news cycle with predictions of end-of-the-world scenarios, race wars, genocide, and governmental malfeasents which never materialize or even partially come true. This does not, however, slow the constant stream of predictions pushed by the snake-oil salesmen hawking their bullshit wherever suckers congregate. So yesterday at 12:13 pm, I removed my tinfoil helmet, gas mask, chem suite, Kevlar vest, and ammo-belt, unlocked the triple deadbolts, scanned my iris, uttered the pass phrase into the mic, opened the blast-doors to my nuke-proof man cave, and climbed the 112 steps to the elevator and began the 20 minute ride to the surface. After running a full environmental scan determined the earth was still habitable, I read the geopolitical situational summery that basically told me...Nothing happened. We wasted 12-12-12 hiding in the ground when we should have been doing body shots in Cabo or sipping Absolute in an Ice palace in Reykjavik! Fucking psychics! I'm beginning to think that they don't see the future at all. Maybe they are all just fucking scammers, and the people that pay $1.99 per minute to hear wondrous tales of the future are just lemmings or sheep being led around by their stupidity. In fact, I'm gonna go get my spiritual advisor shtkla-tvkta on the phone right now and have her do a reading of my chakras to determine if I am open to diving any "truths" today. We owe it to our descendants to find out if anyone will be on the planet in 500 years when the containers holding the spent fuel rods from our nuclear experiments finally fail and spill radioactive sewage all over the planets somewhat delicate water table. We may have been a bit hasty, when we were assured by the congress that global catastrophes or the rapture or the four horseman of the apocalypse would guarantee a planet devoid of all life as we know it... Oooops.

This Is Your Captain…

Please shut your pie hole, until the free ride has come to a complete stop, and the fasten seatbelt signs have gone dark. Some people! This bitch sits around on her sweet tits all day while I work, then she won’t give me a lap dance when I get home. Oh, it gets better…Last night she started raggin me about shit that was none of her biness.  I still was willing to chalk it up to a mild case of being a cunning funt. Then this morning…You guessed it Sherlock, more vile ugliness pouring forth from those CSL’s Well, I am an absolutely awesome man, but I’m still just a man. I told this bitch, “Bitch, you’d better find something more constructive to do with that mouth or I’m gonna excommunicate you from the from the best thing that ever happened to you. By now you’ve all probably guessed,  knowing when to remain silent ain’t this bitches strong suit.  But I am still willing to give you the finger. Fuck you very much. Good day…I SAID GOOD DAY!.....UPDATE....Babe, I'm sorry. Please come back. I neeeeeeeeeeeeed you!

Pushing on through

Only 8 more shopping days until the big holiday...Fox News presents "A Very Jesus Christmas". They are obsessed with getting people to say "Jesus" or "God". They are not interested in living by the teachings of Christ, no these assholes are strictly old testament. Poor Frank is going to spend his holidays in an Idaho state penitentiary.  I'm writing him a long letter today, and taking lots of pictures. It's not much, but it's something.  Meanwhile, I'm not in compliance. Oh well, I'll just make that a resolution for the new year. In fact, I'm gonna go get a jump on the list...Merry Holidays... Even you Fox. Late.

Alter Egos Emerge~

Dr. Flashlight made an unannounced appearance Monday night, when a rare spring power outage struck the beach drive community like a mule-kick to the scrotum. Luckily, we still had laptops and iPods and leds and candles. Yes, the candles are more of an atmosphere enhancer than a tool, but we had ‘em. Not having interweb or Netflix or HDTV blasted by a 40 inch photon cannon is a bummer. On the bright side of this blackout, we are saving a shitload of electricity. Maiden got ahold of one a them there house-coons, right in front of the porch. Well, I looks over to the ol’lady, and she says, “Get that Goddamned coon girl!” Well, seein as I’s the one  be payin’ any vet bills, I called her off. Funny, in the book “Where the Red Fern Grows”, they make coon hunting seem like brain-surgery crossed with Non-linear algebraic Nano-licking butt-fuckery. Come to find out, just live here. The mutherfuckers come up to the front door and ring the Goddamned doorbell. They aren’t even smart enough to leave a flaming bag of shit. Stupid coons.  Added some spores to a sterile bag of rye berries today, I wonder what will happen? I’ve been led to believe, If my heart is pure, I will be shown a wondrous place, full of magic and forgotten knowledge. Maybe even a secret source of ju-ju. At the very least, enough braincain to land four dimensions from this shit-plane. I believe the flavor is Virginia Creeper. Anyway, a funny thing happened the other day, Valerie asked me if Ozzy did the “Dog the Bounty Hunter” theme song. “No fucking way”, was my immediate response. Well, after hearing it again, I looked it up. Fuck me. He is schlepping for Dog. Now that got me to thinking. What a fucking crime-fighting dream team. Ozzy’s brains, and Dog’s brains. Wow. Fucking blow-my-mind. God left his finger prints all over that one. In sports, the M’s had the day off after taking 2 of 3 from the Philly's. Loving this team. Dustin Ackley was called up for this series, and performed as advertised. Now it’s off to Washington DC to play the Nationals. M’s are like 36-34 or around there. A game out of first. Totally unexpected success this season. I guess we probably have a few of those years owed to us…I won an auction for a Behringer 1204fx-pro mixing board for 76 bucks. Now I will have some phantom power for my mxl 990 condenser mic. I shall be in a  position to capture the sound of my acoustic vision. The duality of summer and freedom. A musical version of a bicentennial quarter.