Well, well, look who’s back blogging for Uncensored Interview: your favorite foul-mouthed, curmudgeonly sea predator. I apologize for my sudden and totally unexpected hiatus, but it looks like I’ve returned just in time, because there’s a huge, some may even say an historic inauguration occurring, and it just so happens to coincide with the launch of my newest weekly feature for UI, focusing on things that Piss Me Off. And boy, have I got a warehouse full of pristine, organic, made-in-the-USA gripes about the way we indoctrinate elected officials to the highest office in the land.

You might not have known this, but you see, this entire inauguration dog-and-pony show is just a way to distract the American public from all the fucked up shit that the administration’s gonna pull over the next four years. A real, honorable man doesn’t need expensive bullshit theatrics and over-the-top symbolism to kickstart his new career. He just needs a few shots of JD and maybe a toothless hooker or two. The entire affair should cost no more than $217 and carry a very good chance of someone contracting HPV.

Look at me, I’m ranting already and I haven’t even gotten past the intro yet. You know this is gonna be a bloody entry:

The Shark Presents:

The Top Three Things That Have Pissed Me Off About Recent Presidential Inaugurations

3. Rick Warren Delivering Obama’s Invocation – This hasn’t even happened yet and already it’s pissing me off. Look, I like Obama as much as the next guy, but this is a dubious start to what was supposed to be the Jesus Christ of presidencies (minus the whole crucifixion thing). You’re going to tell me Obama had NO IDEA his choice of an anti-gay, pro-life, right-wing pastor to deliver the invocation would be met with the kind of backlash it has? Bullshit! This guy was riding a wave of positive momentum unseen in this country since John F. Kennedy was elected. He could have picked a goddamn juggling bear cub on a circus ball to urinate all over Joe Biden and no one would have batted an eye. But Rick Warren? What the hell is going on in your head, Barack?

Never before in most of our lifetimes has the need to maintain employment been so dire. People are literally clinging onto their jobs for dear life, hoping the bloody recession axe slices just above their heads and takes out some other unfortunate douchebag.

I was walking by the unemployment office the other day when I noticed three hookers and a coke dealer waiting in line. You know things are bad when hookers are being laid off! Now who will suck the dicks of all of those greedy, coked-up Wall Street execs who piloted their companies into the ground? Certainly not their wives! It’s a sad, sad situation for America.

Last month I propositioned that being Indie means having a crappy job, but what is an indie kid to do when employment is unavailable at even the crappiest of crappy jobs? Even in a recession, bills still have to be paid, debt still has to be taken care of and new tight pants and newspaper-boy hats have to be purchased:

Having survived the past week of unseasonably freezing temperatures here in New York City, two things have become blindingly apparent to me:

1. Those Eskimos are tough motherfuckers. I tip my hat to those sub-zero loving Inuit bastards.
2. We need to do something about global warming. And by that I mean, we need to speed it up.

(MORE BRING ON GLOBAL WARNING HERE)

Apologies for the long gap in updates, yours truly had a busy week last week; training for and running the Philadelphia Marathon and starting a new temporary gig at a large, evil corporation which shall remain nameless for fear of the torture and death of my loved ones due to insubordination. Hey, bills have to be paid and Christmas gifts must be bought, so don’t judge me, man!

Speaking of employment, I was reading an interesting article the other day about how The Pawn Shop Industry is booming thanks to the horrible recession that we’re in. When Michael Phelps is selling his goddamn gold medals to pay rent, we’re really fucked.

But don’t despair frightened private sector employees! Even though you might’ve lost your chic six-figure a year job due to the world market downturn, there are still plenty of jobs available out there to help pad your holiday coiffers–you just have to get off Main Street and start looking on the side streets.

Takka Takka and other city-enamored borough dwellers may have to kiss their indie digs goodbye soon if Governor Patterson and Mayor Bloomberg have their way. In case you hadn’t heard, New York is in the midst of an epic crisis on scale with the infamous Stay Puft Marshmallow Man incident of the 80′s. Unfortunately, proton packs and sheer bravado can’t fix things again, because the form The Destroyer has chosen to take this time is massive debt. In other words, New York State is fuckin’ broke, and the bookies are starting to call about their money.

Rather than take a few shattered kneecaps for their constituency, our fine governor and power-crazy mayor–who, I might add, were in charge of the failed budgets and ridiculously wrong projections that got us into this mess–have decided to pass the burden onto a public who are already being squeezed like Kirstie Alley in a size two dress.

(READ MORE THINKING OUTSIDE THE BUDGET CRISIS BOX)

Far fetched as Vivian Girls‘ claims may seem, they are actually all SCARILY TRUE. Vincent Gallo DOES run a website dedicated to basking in his own greatness and one of the items up for sale in his webstore is his very own man-taffy for your artificial inseminating pleasure. Of course, there are some restrictions that come with Gallo-In-A-Bottle – it costs a cool million dollars (sorry, no Sevigny discount this time). Oh, and no Jews, and no Blacks. Which is good, because you know that old Jewish mothers and Nigerians would just be lining up in droves for the chance to have their very own curly-haired, pompous douchebag baby.

(KEEP READING VIVIAN GIRLS’ GALLO RANTS)

Yes, it’s true–as Poingly first pointed out–the long-awaited Jetsonian future we’ve heard so much about in cartoons is finally here. In case you missed it, CNN debuted their awesome new hologram technology developed by Dagoba scientists a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. And don’t tell me that I was the only one hoping Jessica Yellin would anxiously plead “Help me Wolf Blitzer! You’re my only hope” before she faded out.

But holograms are now sooo yesterday. Say hello to the new freshness–motherfucking Flying Cars, bitch! That’s right, Moller International, now known as The GREATEST Company In The World, is just two measly years away from launching the first ever fully functional flying automobile. I can’t tell which is throbbing faster, my heart or my boner.

Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve only ever wanted two things – the death of all of my enemies, and a flying car. I never thought the flying car was realistic, though. I was more than ready to settle for a hoverboard, or a jetpack, or even just a car that could jump occasionally. But this changes EVERYTHING. Fuck traffic, fuck bridge and tunnel tolls, fuck flat tires, fuck potholes and unpaved roads. As a wise man once said “Roads?. Where we’re going, we don’t need roads”

(READ MORE AUDACITY OF FLYING CARS)