TAKEN FROM...idiotopia.com

So I am sitting here at the neighborhood Laundromat, with the only thing matching my lack of care in this world is my lack of clean underwear (hey gurlies even my current pair is dirty!). Oh, and before you ask, boxers, but tight ones. Anyways, I am surrounded by the unwashed bodies of my fellow Hispanics who are likewise washing their own shit-stained briefs, with my attention divided between ogling the hot chick that’s washing her thongs next to me, wondering what size granny panties she has on in lieu of sexy crotch cotton, typing away on my new notebook, and watching the clichéd Spanish soap operas on the 24/7/356-Spanish dominated TV, which, by the way, have 10x as many sexy 55 year old women in it than any American show could ever hope to have on one screen.

I mean, seriously, what the hell is up with these damned shows? I was fapping to one called “Mujer the Madera” which is about a woman who loves a man but dates another because he has more money and can therefore buy her much more makeup, and as I was about to cum I saw a rather sexy grandma with half her tits hanging out of that ever so sexy tight red dress she only kind of sort of had on her body. Anyways, I finished jacking off to her image because, hey, she was hot, but during that period of contemplation after you have spurted all over your hand and only partially made it into the sock I got to thinking, “Dude, she could so have been my mother, and I would probably still have fapped to her.” I mean, come on, you know that every 13 year old kid out there that has a hot mother with huge knockers has probably wanked to her a couple of times. Maybe even if he has a hot sister as well. There’s nothing wrong with rubbing one off, and in remote cases fucking, as long as there is no kissing that involves the exchange of saliva. That’s just nasty.

So you are probably sitting there, in your underwear, wondering where the hell I am going with this. You are right, I should probably move on, or back, as it were.

If you are one of those five or six lonely, bored souls on the planet that has read my complete collection of utterly useless, uninspired dribble (Not including myself; yes, I am a huge fan of my own work!) then you may have come to the conclusion that, hey, I am a pretty racist guy! In my last update I mentioned something that actually turned out to be a pretty good excuse by itself: I am brown, therefore, I am entitled to making fun of the extremes on the skin-color spectrum since I am the mean of both and a natural referee by birth.

Keeping in mind my natural tendency to be racist, and the fact that I keep spouting off on the supposed superiority my own, it comes as no wonder that some people who have read this site usually leave with a bitter taste in their mouth. I’d go so far as to say it is akin to the taste of salty semen, whereupon I would loudly proclaim my heterosexuality by stating that I have never tasted semen, but the truth of the matter is that I know the salty, bitter taste of said by-product. Damn those hookers. Anyways, the bitter taste here is not from the result of fellatio, but from people thinking that it is fine if I am racist, but that I am only selectively so. I say nay unto them, however, and remind them that he who laughs at his self the most is the sanest person in the world. Which, roughly translated into the neanderthalic language that you idiots use (Which, by the way, does not include the word “neanderthalic”) means that I damn well do make fun of my own race. So much so, in fact, that the Spaniards have issued a public apology for having raped all those nubile, defenseless Native Mexican American women after having infected them with their highly contagious viruses for being the sole catalyst that set the whole chain of events leading up to my birth in motion.

I have no idea how those last few paragraphs relate to the rest of this article, but it is my God damned website and I will write about how whenever I do not bathe properly I get this cheesy substance beneath the folds of my uncircumcised penis if I want to and there is not one damned thing you can do about it!

The first thing that will stand out to you Americans is that the title, literally translated, sounds almost like it is asking who has some sort of rare and exotic STD. “Who Has the AIDS”, “Who Has the Clap”, and “Who Has the Gay” are all examples of similar titles that could be confused with this show.

The Characters

While shows like Dr. Phil and Monica try to unite couples that have differences between them, Who Has the Reason goes the funny route and does the exact opposite. The show is made up of the main hostess, a woman who is a self-proclaimed expert of relationships and the stupid people who experience them; a panel of 3 judges who sit right in front of the stage, which is made up of a hot feminist, and a manly man, and a pussy footer who can never make up his mind about what side of the battle of the sexes he wants to take; the audience of 50 people with absolutely no backgrounds in anything resembling higher education, particularly psychology, but who sure do know when to boo and hiss when they do not agree with someone; and finally, the guests themselves who are there to duke it out for the grand prize of… well… being right.

The funny thing about the judge of panels is that this show takes place in some remote South American country. Well, you know about that little feminism movement the USA had back in the 1970’s? Fortunately for me and every other man who is to marry a native Hispanic, this was not so in our home countries. Women there are still expected, and do, stay at home, clean the house, massage their husband’s feet, then give them a blowjob before tucking in the kids and kissing them goodnight. Lovely, and subservient, just as God intended women to be.

Knowing this, then, how did a feminist Hispanic woman come to exist, especially in her native country? I think this suggests of a deeper rabbit hole than we once though in regards to the feminist movement. They’re destroying the world!

The Plot

It goes something like this… the hostess asks the couples, who are sitting on opposite sides of the stage, to tell all about what they are doing there as a guest of a truly awe-inspiring shitvalanche of a show. The average couple will be disagreeing over petty things, like, “My husband does not like it when I flirt with other women”, or “My girlfriend thinks we should get married right now, after having dated a month.”

Everyone listens, with the hostess and the panel interjecting to clarify a few points so that they can make a decision at the end of the show. Unfortunately, most of the remarks made by them are stupid one-liners along the lines of, “Wow, that’s not good (Guau, eso no es bueno)” which loses its spark after the 15 th time they deem to do it.

The Ending

After really getting to know the issue end delving into these people’s psyche for 10 minutes – 15 if they are in good fighting spirits – the hostess stops them and asks for a verdict, which usually goes like, “So, what does the audience think (Entonces, que es lo que piensa la gente?)” and a selected honorary member of the audience will stand up and say, “We the audience think that the guy with the sweet hairdo is 95% correct”, because we all know if you have a nice hairdo you will never be convicted of anything (Hello Mr. Blake) more serious than child molestation.

The spotlight then moves on to the panel of judges, whereupon the feminist will usually take the side of the woman, or faggot, of the guests and rant about how men are bringing down the human race with their fart jokes and their big stomachs and their love of all things taco.

The manly man will then stand up and rant about how women should not be spending their time on the show and should instead be at home preparing the evening’s meal of beef stew with homemade tortillas while the man is out working and maybe fucking his secretary but so what he is a man and his big dipper deserves to be dipped into the honey pot because he is a man God damnit!

Then the second man, the pussy whipped one, will take the righteous road. His is the vote that will usually decide who is right on behalf of the judges because he can never seem to make up his mind. Ass.

Remember on The Jerry Springer Show how Jerry, after blows were exchanged, relationships ruined, and women discovered to be men pretending to be pregnant women, would go to his little corner with that stupid chair and talk directly into the camera about how America should be more open minded and accept everyone for how they are and oh how wonderful it would be if everyone loved one another and got along? Yeah, well, the hostess’ spiel at the end of Who Has the Reason is similar, except she does it from the comfort of her sofa that she never seems to get up off of because her ass skin has grown to encompass the sofa fabric. Haha fatty. Anyways, she’ll usually explain why she has voted the way she will, and if the core of the argument in question even remotely has anything to do with sex she will relate her life’s sexual story about how she loves to go down on her husband and loves trying kinky new things like anal sex and giving him wake up handjobs to start his day off right, all in a very formal, doctorly voice. This would be no problem for me if she was a hot doctor, but the fact that she is somewhere around 55, weighs about 250lbs, and continuously mentions the fact that even with her awful body she still gets more sex than I do grates on my nerves quite a bit.

Then the opposing guest, one having been told he/she is a dumbass and should stop acting dumb, and the other admonished about why in the hell he/she is hanging out with said dumbass, will usually glare at each other while the fat devil smiles at the camera and continues to stuff sugar coated chocolate covered fried peanuts into her greasy mouth, and then it is off to the next poor fools who have come seeking some sort of consolation and a shoulder to lean on that will try to solve their problems and make it all better when in reality they are probably never going to talk ever again because of this stupid, stupid gimmick of a show.

“Laura”

In the land of uneducated people that live on mountains and have never driven a car in their lives for fear that their life long transportation, Cojón the Mule, will rebel at the thought that they are being replaced, a hot 50 year old woman named Laura is queen.

The Characters

Laura has the distinct honor of having on of the weirdest hostesses. Now, the hostess herself is not what is weird, as she is a mostly level headed older woman, but rather it is the circumstances that surround the hostess that will raise eyebrows. Laura is set in Peru, a country that falsely boasts a democratic government, but leans more towards the totalitarian aspect of rule.

There’s more than one branch of government, but it seems to me that whatever the prime minister says, the congress will follow without question, even if it is obviously illegal even when seen through the dirt-stained window that is Peru’s constitution. Apparently, if the PM so declares it, he can have anyone thrown into jail without being charged for years. You thought the Patriot Act was bad? Try the “Shut the Fuck Up and Do as I Say” Act!

Laura, the hostess, not the show, made the mistake of trying to persuade people to vote for the current PM’s opposition in the last elections, and was put under house arrest, only it is not her house she is held to, but her studio.

That’s right! Laura can never leave her show’s television studio. Not to pee, not to eat, not to go watch a movie, not to go fuck a man, nothing! Studio arrest, baby!

The guests almost never deviate from one formula: innocent women and children and the evil men who have wronged them. I guess the show’s main demographic are divorced middle aged women with almost no education and nothing to do to occupy their time productively, like giving their boyfriends blowjobs and rubbing their feet. I can give no other reason as to the show’s success.

The Plot

The show usually opens up with Laura sitting on her comfortable futuristic looking chair, who then proceeds to go off on a long rant about how men are evil bastards that given the opportunity will stick their dicks in women’s asses while whispering words of love in their ear and then going out that night and fucking that 15 year old secretary that started the week before.

I mean, we do, but come on bitch! Do not go around spilling our secrets to the general public!

The first guest is usually then invited on to the stage, whereupon Laura will talk to her about the problem she’s having, or about what type of relationship she has with the man. Now this is where it gets tricky: if Laura gives her a shoulder to cry on, you know that the first guest is an innocent; if Laura gives her a cold shoulder while she’s having the guest detail out the relationship, then you know she is about to get royally fucked!

Another guest, usually a man at this point, is brought on to the stage and Laura commences with the pouncing. She’ll ask the man how long he’s known the woman, if he loves her, if he cheats on her, etc. The man, being a man and hoping there is a way out of this predicament, will always lie and say that he is in love with the woman and would never do anything to harm her. Hey, we are men and that is what we do, ok?

Then, the videos begin.

Laura will play a video of them spying on the man, usually cheating on the woman with another woman/little girl. Booing will ensue, as well as the beatings. Laura orders her security guys, which are like 250lb muscle-bound freaks, to hold down the man while the woman gets up and proceeds to beat the shit out of him. But that is not all, baby! Laura then invites the woman the man was cheating on and if she does not go and attack the original woman then she will go and kick the shit out of the man. What usually happens, though, is that the women will mistake each other for competition and will attack and try to gouge each other’s eyes out. It is funny to watch and Laura just sits there with this devilish look on her face waiting out the violence.

Both women are then sat down and told that it is not their fault they are whores, it is all the man’s fault and that they should forgive each other. The man is berated for the next 5 minutes and then is picked up by the armpits by two burly looking sumabitches and dragged out the stage’s entrance, where the man is then hit by purses and shoes thrown by all the outraged women in the audience, and there is not a goddamned thing the man can do because his hands are immobilized.

The other way the episode can develop is if we find out that one of the women is knowingly cheating on her man. Laura will always do something to turn it around and lay all the blame on the man, though, such as investigating and finding out that the man is cheating on the cheater with a 15 year old girl. Women can be such bitches.

The Ending

At the end of each and every show there always seems to be one thing missing: men. I mean, the only men that are ever seen to make it through the whole show are the steroid freaks Laura has on for security, and even those are lately being replaced by big burly women named Helga.

Laura will usually talk one on one with the grieving victims, with the camera watching, of course, and: 1. If they are poor wretches without education (most of them) she will pay 100% of their schooling to get their asses off the male dependence; 2. If they are poor, older wretches, she will usually give them a few thousand dollars to use on their homes/children.

This show is nothing special, and just goes to highlight the slow decomposition of today’s society by raving lunatic feminists. I say we burn down any studio that dares show this shit to the public.

Conclusion

You may have noticed my use of big bold headlines to comfortably separate parts from one another. You have Ne0nbubble to thank for that. Every single time I ask him for a review of my writing, he seems to glaze over the actual horrible content and focuses solely on my lack of separation.

I think he may have ADD or something.