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Pointing The Finger

By: Guest Blogger on 02/2/09 @ 1:40 pm

(Editor’s Note: Just a heads up for those of you who don’t know, PointlessBanter is now open to guest bloggers. Just out the guest blogger’s page to find out more information on how you can guest blog. We just figure this is a different way to expose other funny people.)

Solving problems is as easy as finding someone to blame. The simple transfer of the world’s weight off your shoulders to the patsy of your choice enables you to free up the time and money that people spend worrying about bullshit like rent and traffic laws. After transferring my problems (or according to some nameless snivelers- “responsibility”) to the persons and institutions I found accountable for not allowing me to sleep late and listen to CD’s all day, I feel I owe it to you to correct some of heinous crimes currently perpetrating our existence by exposing the culprits and lighting the way to freedom.


Let’s face it, they flushed the toilet. Everyone has a sad story to tell, and sadly you have the time to listen to the tales of living in Shit Sack City because you don’t have a job to excuse yourself to go to. Things are dire and much more competitive to the point where you are up against Christian Slater and Laura Bush for a waitstaff job at the Chilli’s by the mall. The only bonus from this is that the new homeless people smell much better.


America became a world power based on a system of measurement that no one else understood. Miles, gallons? Que? Quoi? 什麼? That sounds like a lot to put in a bomb! FEAR THEM! The only thing that made sense to the rest of the world was the money we used, for the format was similar to method of grouping things in tens as it is done in the metric system. Once they figured out the conversion rate, we were fucked harder than a roofied prom date.

Solution: Going back to a financial system based on bushels of corn, chickens and whiskey. By the time the rest of the world catches on to what we are doing, the livestock hedge funds will have enough people working to fill the strip clubs again.

Problem: KARAOKE

I would rather be punched in the face everyday at 3pm than be in a karaoke bar. Yes, the punch option is painful, however you know it is coming and when so you can brace yourself with the comfort that it will be over by 3:01 and you have the rest of the day to yourself. Karaoke NEVER ENDS! One douchebag after an other, belting out nasal renditions of Gloria Gaynor songs as if they really mattered. If there were any talent scouts there, all you would see of them would be the corner of their shoe at the back door.


The Beatles were the first recording artist to put printed lyrics in the album, opening the door to theatre majors around the globe to pretend they are in ABBA for 5 minutes.

Solution: Limiting karaoke bars to only the Beatle songs that they actually own which are: ”Love Me Do,” “Please, Please Me,” “P.S. I Love You,” and “Tell Me Why.”  This would end this charade faster than pulling the fire alarm.

Problem: SMOKERS

The new lepers of the 21st century. We have found a way to project charged hatred that was formally directed towards ethnic and religious groups, to a faceless section of society who are too universally hated to fight back. Smokers now rank below famine and N.A.M.B.L.A.  Stepping out for a puff? You might as well announce that you’re off the kill a baby.


Smokers are the most unorganized people on earth. They never have the tools to perform the smoking ritual. “Hey, could I bum a cigarette?” “Do you have a light?” What kind of self respecting addict leaves the house without their gear? Non-smokers made changes and smokers are unable to protest because they were outside smoking when they held the vote.

Solution: President Obama is a smoker; get him to take a few drags at press conference, and after that, at a school. The rest will take care of itself.

Problem: DEATH

We don’t fear death anymore, we beckon it. Extreme sports, Gangsta Hip Hop and Cellphone radiation spit in the face of extinction. If we fall ill, there is a pill to slow life’s demise at the small expense of occasional anal bleeding. No workday is complete without a co-worker exclaiming “Please kill me!” at the slightest infringement, knowing the cold hand of death is occupied watching “Dancing With The Stars” on Tivo.


The fear of death flatlined when it was announced that eating the sweeteners in yogurt can cause cancer. The universal response to that statement was “blow me.” If yogurt is to be feared, you should be able to rob a liquor store with it. If you go into a liquor store waving a cup of yogurt around, the best you can hope for is a refund from the cashier.

Solution: Causing some serious alarm will bring the public back around. Let’s start by changing the safety demonstration aboard an aircraft to just a photo of the airplane that landed in the Hudson River and a short speech that goes: “EYES FRONT! DO YOU SEE THIS? NOW BUCKLE THE FUCK UP!”

If you have gotten this far, you have read the whole post and can only blame yourself now.

John McClellan is a booze powered funny car that revs his engine at Boozecoma.com and 4 Minutes Of Fame.

About the author

Guest Blogger

Pointlessbanter.net welcomes guest submissions and we post them throughout the week but mostly on the weekends. To find out about being a guest blogger check out the guest blogger page

18 Responses to “Pointing The Finger”

  1. stan says:

    What the hell language was after “Quoi”? Is that Farsi?

    If I have a bottle of whiskey, that now makes me filthy stinking rich, right? Or does it have to be full?

  2. Vince says:

    I blame Jesus for all of these problems.

  3. Lesly says:

    That was hilarious

  4. Spencer says:

    This guy gets extra points for hating The Beatles!

  5. Lord Carrett says:

    I agree with him completely on this: “I would rather be punched in the face everyday at 3pm than be in a karaoke bar.” Good stuff!

  6. Tits McGee says:

    So who was the guest blogger? *blonde and confused*

  7. Tits McGee says:

    Am I blind? All I see is:

    Guest Blogger
    Hey everyone i’m a mother of 4 therefore i’m always entertained leaving me to want to share my stories with others when i have down time to do so…To inspire someone to smile, laugh, shake their head, most off to motivate another living soul to want to live life! I also like to make sex and poo poo!

    • Did you even read the post? Look at the last sentence of the post.

      • Tits McGee says:

        I did, you bastard! I saw the last sentence but then I saw THIS below it:
        Guest Blogger
        Hey everyone i’m a mother of 4 therefore i’m always entertained leaving me to want to share my stories with others when i have down time to do so…To inspire someone to smile, laugh, shake their head, most off to motivate another living soul to want to live life! I also like to make sex and poo poo!

        Which I see you have now deleted. FUCK YOU, FINSTOCK!
        *hurt feelins*

  8. Clammy says:

    Very Funny, I’m with you on the metric system. I much to prefer to buy my pot by the bushel.

  9. We spent FIVES WEEKS on the metric system in junior high science class. Yay for public school!

  10. urgrl1 says:

    I’m sorry, I have to go to the bathroom now and clean up because I peed myself.

  11. [...] the new Boozecoma post is on another site, which you can read by following this link: PointlessBanter.net. There will be a new full post soon but until then, the copious amount of geek/computer activity [...]

  12. Dr.Z says:

    In Esquire Magazine they have the ‘AnswerFella.’ This last blogger has all the answers. In the process of telling the truth about things, it is ALSO funnyI’ve read his stuff on 4minutesofame and Boozecoma and it is some of the funniest stuff I have ever read. What is it they say about humor? It’s funnier when it’s true.

    Think twice about this past post and one can’t deny that in a way, between the mess we made by laughing so hard, that well…there is truth here!

    So people, go about your day, if you’re smoking outside of your bldg, bring a lighter and for going about your day in general, “BUCKLE THE FUCK UP.”

  13. Dr.Z says:

    Hey Clammy, do you want to go halfies on a bushel?

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