CHESTER IS ALIVE

Tony Alamo, a man of the cloth, has been watching too much Sesame Street, it seems; thus, his career as an epostle of the Lawd IS OFFICIALLY DEAD. He has been arrested for being a weird pervert, but this is far from the first time. Alamo was convicted of tax-related charges in 1994 and given a four-year prison sentence, after the IRS claimed that he owed $7.9 million to the government. Prosecutors argued during the trial that he was a flight risk, a polygamist and a weirdo, who not only prayed for forgiveness but also preyed on married women and young girls in his flock.





According to his beliefs and theology, a woman is ready to marry at the point of puberty. It says so in the bible, according to whatever chapter he's read. He and his now deceased wife Susan founded a Christian ministry in 1969. When she died in 1982, he KEPT HER IN THE BASEMENT, asking his followers to pray over her displayed body so that she would rise like Lazarus. Wow.





This most recent arrest occurred at the hands of the F.B.I., at his cult compound in Arkansas five days after his 74th birthday:

On September 20, 2008, federal and state investigative agents raided the Arkansas headquarters of the ministry as part of a child pornography investigation. This investigation involved allegations of physical abuse, sexual abuse and allegations of polygamy and underage marriage. According to Terry Purvis, mayor of Fouke, Arkansas, his office has received complaints from former ministry members about allegations of child abuse, sexual abuse and polygamy since the ministry established itself in the area. In turn, Purvis turned over information about the allegations to the FBI. Alamo denied the child abuse allegations. On September 25, 2008, Alamo was arrested by Arizona police and FBI agents in Flagstaff, Arizona on charges that he transported minors over state lines for sexual activity in violation of the Mann Act.

SOURCE: WIKIPEDIA

Here's a video of how Alamo, pronounced "A-Lame-O" by the Fox News personality interviewing him, believes that the Lawd will deliver him from the wickedness of the world, and how women shouldn't yap their stupid mouths off.





Jesus, what evil hath men done in thy name? R.Kelly wears Jesus pieces on the regular, and he pees on any pre-pubescent Punky Brewster he pleases. Nobody complains, and his star stock actually rises. He can even get on TV and come across as Chesterly as ever, taking no responsibility for anything he may have done while asking heaven for a hug.





But that's still not enough. Did you know he started a business selling sequined denim jackets under his own name, and his failure to report his revenues to the IRS would land him in prison for tax evasion? I mean, what kind of pervert makes his living selling stonewashed and airbrushed denim? No wonder he was ashamed of claiming his earnings.





Catholic priests have been fondling a lot more than their own balls and bibles, oh my brothers and sisters. Some, it seems, may secretly use their Rosary beads on themselves, if you follow. Then you have the whole "gay marriage" debate, which in my opinion is not worthy of any debate. Civil unions are just fine with me, but marriage is and should always be used for lovers of the opposite sex. This is not a religious issue; it's a natural one. I thought that one of the major reasons to get married was so that your child would not have to go through life with the title of "illegitimate." But now that's all dead, and the children are going to be raised by couples made of husbands and wives that can ask axe each other, "How's it hanging, honey?" How do all of the fatherless bastards of today feel about this, I wonder?





This is what happens when we condemn sex as an ungodly act. Not only do people go underground with their weirdness and freaky ambitions, but the criminals become the equals of people who aren't even committing crimes. I just hope that the true believers out there take this as a message and start getting serious about cleaning up their churches--from the inside out. Nolo.

I wonder who's gonna be next?

THE OBAMA CRUSADE: Day 30 (75 Days before E-Day)

[IMAGE: Callie Shell / Aurora for Time]


TODAY:


Senator Barack Obama has been putting the political clap-slap on Senator John McCain. Recently, McCain could not provide a clear answer to the question of how many houses does he own. Obama skewered his arse on the issue, and I must say it was good to see him on the offensive. It is my opinion that you can be an agent of change while still maintaining an agressive posture and frame of mind. We need a fighter and a lover, not either-or. Nolo.





Obama is also expected to announce his VP pick today. Or tomorrow. Well, definitely by Saturday, where he will make an appearance with his chosen sidekick in Springfield, Illinois. I am happy that he didn't select Tim Kaine in Chester, Virginia. That might send the wrong message. Hell, actually, with the way politics are, maybe not...

Obama also recenty spoke to Time Magazine about the selection process, the coming ugliness of the campaign and just where his head's at.

One of the biggest moments in the campaign is going to be your announcement of a vice president. What is that decision going to tell voters about you?

Hopefully, the same thing that my campaign has told the American people about me. That I think through big decisions. I get a lot of input from a lot of people, and that ultimately, I try to surround myself with people who are about getting the job done, and who are not about ego, self—aggrandizement, getting their names in the press, but our focus on what's best for the American people.

SOURCE: TIME

That's all well and fine, dude. Just go ahead and call out a name and get it over with before we all pass on, please. But on a serious note, at least the guy is finally responding to the attacks of Senator John McCain with more fiyah. I'm glad someone in the DNC put the bug in his ear to let him know that running for POTUS is not for the sensitive types.


UPDATE: OBAMA - "I'VE MADE THE SELECTION."
THAT'S ALL HE SAID.

THE REPUBLICKINS' SECRET TO LONG LIFE

Look, it's my job to pay attention, ok? While you were sleeping, I've been noticing that these GOP dinosaurs never seem to die like natural human beings. Like, I think George H.W. Bush is 665 years old, on the low. It might be a rule that once you become down with them, you become one of the undead and have to drink the blood of innocent Shi-Tzus, stolen from gay liberal couples, to achieve everlasting life and help Satan to endlessly steal presidential elections. Truth be told, I used to think Republickins were secretly the descendants of dragon-lizards that once dwelled in moist caves, ate runaway squirrels and wiped their arses on nearby stalagmites. But no, my brothers and sisters...

Courtesy of Ernest Borgnine, a recent tv guest of Fox & Friends, This is why Republickins live for thousands of years:





For the record, I totally believe him. He looks like he hasn't seen female loins since Prohibition. The question is, using the borrowed logic that sexual pleasure is good for the mind, body and soul, shouldn't a person live even longer if they actually had a partner - preferably of the opposite sex - with whom they could have intercourse? Or is it really the process of rubbing one out that makes the difference?

I think it's much simpler. Republickins are wankers who never make contact with other humans, so they avoid the germs. What a bunch of weird losers.

LINKS FOR YOUR LIFE - LIVE FROM BEIJING (not really)

[The Underwriter does not condone racial intolerance. But this is a funny picture.]


OBAMA'S ON VACATION, and to a degree, so am I. I quit my former day job last week, and it feels great to be alive. And still, no cigarettes. I feel as far away as the continent of Asia from my old life as I knew it two weeks ago.

See, I'm focusing on getting my shite right, so I quit doing a lot of things that were bad for my everlasting soul. As a result, I've been having mad, ill dreams about trailer-loads of girls and bombastic bus trips to exotic places where Amazonian women live without any male company. Sheeit, I've had some of the best sleep in years recently.

I do wish I was in Beijing in reality. Have you been watching the Olympics? Seriously, this is the only time in life that I'm really amped to watch sports all day long. There's something about the Olympics that makes sports seem innocent again. But alas, there is still turmoil afoot in the world, and death circles above us all like a skinny black vulture. No time to waste, no time to chill...

So here are a few deadly things that have been going on recently, just to keep you abreast of things and stuff. Here's what's been going down:


LINKS FOR YOUR LIFE!!!


War Games



Russia is still bombing the shite out of Georgia. I guess "cease-fire" is either not a literal term, or something must have been lost in translation. Either way, it's still war out there, and the Olympics served as nothing more than a distraction from the assault. CLICK HERE for the story.


Michael Phelps is Him



Michael Phelps, the American swimmer and the winningest Olympian of all time, listens to Lil' Wayne's classic mixtape track "I'm Me" as he prepares for nautical warfare. He recently admitted this to the media. As you should know, this dude is breaking swimming records left and right. Wayne haters, you can now drown yourself in wolf piss, or just CLICK HERE for the story.


Ozone Magazine = Hip-Hop Coloring Book



The Ozone Awards was a coon-fest of epic proportions. My homie Jacinta was in attendance, and she came back with several reports that confirm my decision to stay home and get zooted. I remember having the opportunity to interview Julia Beverly, Ozone's publisher, once, and I just changed my mind and canceled at the last minute, on some "who cares" shit. I discovered that I wasn't impressed. She just seems out of place, and under her guidance, the awards ceremony gets worse and worse every year. Oh well, she's still banking off you idiots that read Ozone, so CLICK HERE for the full unedited story, or CLICK HERE for the clean version @ Rolling Out.


Hillary Wants Some Effing Respect



Senators Obama and Clinton have reached a "compromise" that will allow Clinton's name to be placed in nomination at the Democratic convention. That means that even though Obama won the needed amount of delegates and has more pledged superdelegates than Clinton, she doesn't have the balls to tell her supporters that protesting, yelling and voting for her at the convention will be counter-productive, not cathartic. I think she's still trying to be V.P., but she doesn't know that you can't be a beeyotch about it and expect people to sympathize. Whatever. CLICK HERE for the story.


Keep R. Kelly Away from the Chinese Gymnast Team



It is being reported that Chester is not only alive and well, he might be Chinese. Team China has at least two questionable team members for the gymnastic squad. I feel like that's weird as hell, so I'm out, but you can CLICK HERE for the story.


Going to see Pineapple Express tonight with the homies. Already copped the t-shirt, because I heard the movie was funny as hell. For now, back to the games.


UPDATE: IMAGES ADDED (8/17/08).

FLOWERS

[Photo: ALLHIPHOP]


I can't even go into too much detail about how sad this is. I just hope that INGRID RIVERA is finding some comfort in Heaven after experiencing hell in her final hours on earth. Unfortunately, some men are rapists, killers and cowards - all packed into one body. And those men - not the drug dealers - deserve to die. Kill 'em all, I say, and let God Satan sort 'em out.

If you want to read the story of what happened, CLICK HERE.


Rest in peace, Ingrid. May you never be forgotten, and may your name live on to keep other unsuspecting females from being led into dangerous situations with guys they don't know and shouldn't trust.

I'll tell you this much. I have hella female cousins. If this would have happened to one of them, you'd find the guy's head on top of the Georgia Capitol with a scythe still hooked through his ears. I don't play that shit.

MALE SPIDERS ARE RAPISTS

Scientific researchers at the University of Aarhus (?) have made a brilliant discovery - one whose announcement is sure to spread like cobwebs in the circles of internet-saavy spiders. Female arachnids, beware: your men are out chea boning unsuspecting potential mates by playing dead and stealing the ass.





Hell, at least the spiders don't have to live in Darfur these days, for God's sake. Then not only would such savage spiders rape the ladies, they might just kill them and the kids, then burn it all down on the way to the next unfortunate victim.

So don't you PETA pricks get mad at me if you see me in the woods squashing the shit out of some tarantula or black widow. He might be the "Chester" that sodomized Charlotte.


CLICK HERE for the article.


"I'm gunnin' for your spouse, tryin' to send that bitch back to her maker, and if you've got a daughter older then 15, I'm a rape her, take her on the living room floor, right there in front of you, then ask you seriously, what you wanna do?"
DMX - "X is Coming" (nolo)

FRIDAY THE 13th: NBC's TIM RUSSERT (R.I.P.) vs. R. KELLY

There was a subtle divide between intellectuals and philistines today on Atlanta radio. I was running errands in Atlanta this afternoon, and around 4pm, when I’m usually listening to “All Things Considered” on NPR, I suddenly had an urge to tune in to V-103.

Ryan Cameron, my old boss and mid-day radio personality for V-103, was talking to Johnny Gill. We won’t get into that right now, but I’ll post the audio if I can find it, because Ryan slipped in [NOLO] a few subliminal jokes while interviewing Eddie Murphy’s new best friend (sorry, Arsenio). Hilarious, I must say.





As he wrapped up the Johnny Gill interview, Ryan announced that the R. Kelly verdict was expected to be announced at any moment, so everyone should stay tuned. So I flipped back to NPR, because I know that “any moment” in radio means at least ten minutes. Back on the brain-worthy side, the voices of NPR were talking about THE DEATH OF TIM RUSSERT. I was like, “Whoa! Ol’ dude from ‘Meet the Press?’ Nah…” But yeah. Russert, only fifty-eight years old, died on Friday the 13th of an apparent heart attack. Life is stranger than fiction, and the profession of journalism is harder than life, maybe harder than Lexington Steele [NOLO]. No Terrance Dean.

But seriously, I always thought Tim Russert was the next Lil' Wayne of journalism. His steelo was always to confront people in subtle ways, so that the viewer or reader could decipher some truth out of all of the lies that politicians tell on a regular basis. He was obviously a Democrat, but he played it pretty fair throughout his career, as far as trying to seem bipartisan. Check this out:


Russert, 54, is a lawyer who started out as a Democratic political operative, signing on with Sen. Daniel Patrick Moynihan and gradually developing a reputation for devastating effectiveness at shaping coverage. He once leaked word to two reporters that the senator's Republican opponent had distorted his own military record, knocking the candidate out of the race and prompting the New Yorker magazine to observe that the man had been "russerted." In 1984, Russert made the jump to network news as a mid-level executive.
SOURCE: Washington Post


I’m sure that, if I looked hard enough, I’d find some shit he’s said or insinuated that I wouldn’t like. But who cares now. I’m sure Russert never saw his early death coming, especially in one of the most exciting political seasons ever. He was getting plenty of work all around television as one of the hardest interviewers in the game. And now, he’s dead, like many potential game-changers before him who were called back to the essence before the human race was ready to let him go. “Wow,” I thought, as I listened and realized that one of the major players in journalism was gone, just like that.

So I flip back to V-103, right before the announcement of the biggest story in negro news. Sure enough, as I predicted, The Pied Piper got off, exonerated of all charges. Pedophiles, urinators and statutory rapists – rejoice!! You just got another reason to continue to do you.





So the question is, who owned the day? Will this day be remembered as the day that Tim Russert, renowned journalist, passed away untimely? Or will it forever be known as “Kelly Day?” Which outcome is the weirdest?

You be the judge. I’ll be the executioner.