Via voicemail, Pearl confides all of her life secrets to Clara, who may or may not care.

[c] 2009 Russ of America

Tonight on WWE Royal Rumble Wrestlemania Sesame Street Smackdown SummerSlam 207 it’s a 3 on 3 battle royale grudge match!

Roy Orton, John Cena, Kofi Kingston test their mettle against the baddest warriors on the street: Count Von Count, Oscar The Grouch and Snuffleupagus – in a no-holds barred challenge to take it to The Street, $39.95 Pay-Per-View extravaganza. Access WWE.com today for more information.

[c] 2009 Russ of America

Music track What’s It To Ya Punk courtesy of:

Hey Friends, Russ of America here and I’ve got an amazing deal as a reward to you for being loyal, staying up late, reading my blog and listening to my important podcasts. I have this futuristic sci-fact technology called “IBM Pentium” and it’s in its second, #2, release. I’m going to sell that to you with a pair of 3.8 x 10^-6 TERRABYTE COMPUTER MEMORY SIMMs — that’s TERRABYTES – for the low price of $212 because this is a deal that’s boiling hot! And water boils at $212 Fahrenheit. And if you’re cool and commit within the next 4 hours, I will pay your sales tax — and shipping — and I’ll throw in a free ENHANCED Graphics Array monitor for $0, a non-OPTICAL computer mouse, a 9,600 baud modulator/demodulator and some free joystick drivers for your computer so you can play your joystick games like LodeRunner, Wheel of Fortune and the classic Where In The World is Carmen Sandiego, which I will also throw in for free, for an additional $20.

Act in the next 2 hours and I’ll hook you up with a Lantec Ansling mono speaker AUDIO SYSTEM for your ears and a 24x CD-ROM — that’s read-ONLY memory, and we’re talking about 24x — that’s 3.6 MILLION bps data transfer — Trust me that there are no other deals like this out there right now. And if you act now, you’ll get absolutely FREE, my two amazing fact-filled podcasts, How to Get Into Debt For Free and How To Use DOS 3.0 And Win At Zork. Cash, Paypal, debit card or cashier’s check are all accepted only. If you’re under 18, get your parents’ permission but you can’t pass this up so if they’re on the fence about buying it, just buy it yourself. Give us a call today. 1-800-034-RCoA. That’s 1-800-034-RCoA.

[c] 2009 Russ Carney of America

Music track EcxtasyX courtesy of:

I set back and thought about the extra pauses in the forced intro of this song by Milli Vanilli. It really mean a lot to me.

YOU mean a lot to me.

Well.

Girl.

You know it is the true.

If you have recently been diagnosed with Mesothelioma, it is vital that you get the support and representation you deserve. At the Law Offices of Mesothelioma you will get exactly that. Call us today at 1-800-1-TheLawOfficesOfMesothelioma. That’s 1-800-1-TheLawOfficesofMesothelioma. There’s no need to suffer alone any longer; We will fight for you. Call The Law Offices of Mesothelioma at 1-800-1-TheLawOfficesofMesothelioma.

[c] 2009 Russ of America

2 minutes 15 seconds. (3.09 megabytes)

I Am The Man
Russ Carney of America
Featuring samples of Bait by Ultramagnetic MCs

Ducks,
Sucks,
Lizards,
Wizards,
Unicorns [unicorns]

I am the man [you are the man]
I am the boss [you are the boss]

I am the one who made your ship sail off course [you are the boss]

I am the man [you ARE the man]
I am the boss [you are the boss]

I am the one who knocked you off your horse [you are the boss]

I am the man [you are the man]
I am the boss [you are the boss]

I am the roaches in your apple sauce [you are the boss]

I am the man [you are the man]
I am the boss [you are the boss]

I’m a marriage that is headed for divorce [you are the boss]

I’m the voice behind anchormen.
I’m the filthy stench of carrion!
I’m the utter lack of discipline.
I’m the violence at Tian’anmen!

Gamma Light!

On the mix, Red Alert,
Controlled by,
Controlled by,
gamma light,
Control trol by, by, gamma light
On the mix,
Controlled by mix,
Control, trol, by gamma light
On the control, by gamma gamma light. Go!
When the light, when the light,
when — the — light,
Turn green,
Time for red,
F-For red to go!
On the mix, Red Alert, controlled by gamma light,
Light turn green, turn green, time to go!

I am the man [you are the man]
I am the boss [you are the boss]

I am a tangled piece of dental floss [you are the boss]

I am the man [you are the man]
I am the boss [you are the boss]

I am the mastermind of Palestine’s Hamas [you are the boss]

I am the man [you are the man]
I am the boss [you are the boss]

You are Little Joe and I am Hoss [you are the boss]

I am the man [you are the man]
I am the boss [you are the boss]

I was cheering when they nailed him to a cross [you're the boss]

I’m an evil board of councilmen!
I’m an intrusive airborne pathogen.
I’m the greed behind common businessmen.
I’m a bloodstream full of amphetamines.

Hoo-HOOOO!

[c] 2005 Russ Carney of America

This is Russ of America, Pharaoh of California, speaking to you, my dear citizens of California. Or potentially to you, my dear potential visitors of California.

I’m always thinking of new ways to serve this state, the best state out of all of the states in the United States of American states. I’ve noticed a trend over the last few decades — California has become needlessly congested. Gridlocked traffic on the freeway at 1 o’clock in the morning is inexcusable! The other day I was watching a rerun of the 1970s television program CHiPs and I noticed that Ponch and Jon only had to deal with, like, 8 cars on the entire freeway at any given time. But today, our freeways are clogged virtually every moment of the day. As a result: California is now forced to institute a Department of Stateland Security immediately to control this influx of unnecessary residents.

See, we’ve got far too many of these dreamy-eyed layabouts who come to our Golden State thinking that they’re gonna be a bunch of rich important bling-bling bigshot Abercrombie and Gabana actors. So they leave their silly little fly-over states, bring their smoggy vehicles to our neighborhoods, refuse to register their cars because they obviously can’t — their pollut-o-mobiles don’t pass our rigid air quality requirements — and because they’re getting a better deal on car insurance. So they glaringly cheat the DMV of rightfully owed registration fees, then clog the freeways and streets FOR FREE.

They use way too much perfume and hair gel in their daily lives, fart in OUR elevators, take our best food service jobs, smoke and snort all of our locally-grown organic narcotics, use up our welfare and social services, wear stupid hats, drink our water and waste even more water by watering their sidewalks with water because they don’t know that California is always out of water. They clutter our libraries and leave shopping carts behind our cars because that’s how they do it in Kentuckiansanippi or whatever their bullshit state is called.

Well, your Pharaoh is tired of sitting in an hour of traffic just to get to the corner supermarket and I blame these undocumented American immigrants and their stupid pipe dreams. So as a matter of immediate need, I am instituting and enforcing a requirement that individuals who intend to spend time in California apply for tourism or 90-day work visas through the California Department of Stateland Security. Wanna-be actors from those corn and potato places are now required to secure legitimate acting jobs before they can set foot in this state. This will free up the best food service jobs for our best native Californian servers. In order to extend their visas, visiting workers must maintain consistent acting work for 90 days, with no gap lasting longer than 5 days — with the exception of the December holiday season, where, as a gift to my citizens, I will require all visitors to leave California for three full weeks. The freeways will be immaculate during the holidays. And finally, these aliens must maintain a clean, healthy, morally correct lifestyle, which I will be in charge of evaluating. Only after 3 years of steady work as a visitor may they apply for permanent residency. This policy will eliminate the gratuitous immigration of undocumented American aliens into the Golden State.

Visitors: We need to keep it pure and keep it strictly Californian until we can extend to you the charity of allowing you to live in our glorious, desirable, beautiful, expansive, sexy state and hopefully you will understand. If you can’t understand, it’s highly recommended that you either stay where you are, or move your ass to Hollywood, Florida. It’s basically the same thing as regular Hollywood.

Your Loving Pharaoh of California,
Russ Carney of California, America

[c] 2009 Russ of America

3 minutes 3 seconds. (2.80 megabytes)

RCoA, as Mark Hunter, seeks out Nora Diniro

Features samples of:
Grand Funk Railroad – Inside Looking Out
Dead Milkmen – Punk Rock Girl

Nora Diniro [Nora Diniro]
Nora Diniro
Nora Diniro
Nora Diniro
NoraDiniroNoraDiniroNoraDiniroNoraDiniroNoraDiniroNoraDiniro

Nora Diniro
Nora Diniro

Nora Diniro
Quit ignoring me, goddammit.
I’m the funniest motherfucker on the planet.

You were an influence in my life don’t you see?
I got a mouth like Richard Pryor and an ass like Tom Bosley.

If you were to ask for Rudy Ray Moore, I’d give you Dolomite.
You want an epileptic fit? I’ll go buy a strobe light.

I raise a glass of Perrier to you alpha-female,
Now please grow some balls and reply to my muthafuckin’ email.

Nora
Nora Diniro

I recall the poetry you used to pen:
“Jam me, jack me, push me, pull me,”
– But you never said ‘when.’

I did five years, and now I’m inclined
To write missives like this and get myself real deep inside your mind.

‘Eat-Me/Beat-Me Lady’ it’s on!
We’ll take our shirts off and talk until the cops are all gone.

I just don’t get it, why you don’t respond,
You told me,”Talk Hard!” and that the viral truth was our bond.
Now I’m sitting here,
Cranking out these lines,
Pining for a broad
Who cost me sixty-thousand in fines!

How come you never wrote me letters in jail?
Every day I looked for Hard Harry’s name in the mail.

I’m really hoping that I hear from you soon,
It is the twelfth of June
And I’m here pumping up the volume.

With a beat you’ve never heard,
But you’ll move to it anyway,
And shake your ass while speeding down the freeway.

I miss your presence in my microverse
And your lack of enthusiasm
Is just making it worse.

I apologize that I acted like a kid,
Why should my punishment be that I am
Eternally black-listed.

So get the keyboard out your ass,
I’ll wear a Jheri Curl.

[Yeah you're for me punk rock girl.]
[Yeah you're for me punk rock girl.]
[Yeah you're for me punk rock girl.]

[c] 2002 Russ of America

*I* don’t see what the problem is, but “cunt” is a word nobody in America wants you to use. But I LOVE the word! I think it’s a great serrated, vicious word and it has a very important place in my linguistic arsenal. I tend to use it whenever I need an eye-opening vulgarity. It’s the kind of word that smacks you right across the back of your head. But only if you live in America. People in England apparently use it with virtually no repercussion, “Oh go take a bloody barth, you soppy little cunt!” But in America “cunt” is equivalent to the N-word for women. If you call a woman a cunt, you’re an evil, chauvinist, intolerant, demon pig, perhaps rightfully so. But even if you use it against a man you’ll get special stares and people will talk behind your back and whisper, “Russ of America dropped the C-bomb on Eric.” Well, Eric deserved it! He was acting like a cunt!

I believe in self-regulation when it comes to cursing. I don’t like to use the word “retarded” to describe something that I find to be objectionable. Or “gay” to describe something that is retarded. And I’m even uncomfortable using the word “lame” to describe something that is either gay or retarded. Each of those words means something else and I like to reserve them for more noble uses. Nobody has a problem with lame marriage or retarded marriage, but some people have a problem with gay marriage, even if all of those words mean the same thing in slang.

Cunt is one of those words that Americans reserve for use in secret, between trusted friends, on very special occasions. Like when someone complains about his ex-wife, Marjorie, asking the court for an extra $600/month in child support. Well, sure, you’re probably a deadbeat, but still, what a cunt!

What bothers me about the stigma attached to the use of this word, is the hypocrisy. It’s okay to call a person a dick, a prick or a cock. If your landlord is breaking your balls, he’s giving you the shaft by being such a penis. What a nutsack! And of course you phoned up the douche-bag, but the asshole was being a butt-head, so you told that pussy to stop acting like such a twat, that miserable c-word! Well, I shouldn’t call the guy a cunt, right? I mean, I can call him a pussy or a twat, but I should have class. I should draw the line at cunt. Even if it means the same thing as pussy or twat. Even if a cunt is in the same basic area as a dick, a prick or a cock, or even right next-door to an asshole, and even if my landlord IS being a vagina, I don’t want anyone to hear me call him a cunt. That’s just crude!

FUCK YOU, CUNTS!

[c] 2009 Russ of America

At noon on Sunday, February 12, 2006 Nutty Alvin emailed me about a job ad I’d floated into the Craigslist ether. While I don’t work on Sunday, I shot him a quick email and told him that I’d give him a call sometime on Monday. Within less than 24 hours Alvin phoned me four times, left three voicemail messages and ultimately convinced himself that I was standing him up like a like an ugly girl on prom night. By 11:56am on Monday he’d diagnosed me as mentally ill on the basis that I did not return his calls quickly enough.

I was pretty incredulous so I phoned him back, but I guess he was pouting; Alvin didn’t answer his phone. I left a voicemail to announce that I accepted his withdrawal of candidacy from the position at my company. I taunted him to call me back, but he never did.

Alvin, Nutty Alvin. May you forever bring joy to my readers and to me with the following recording:

<Download> Russ Carney of America – Nutty Alvin.mp3
1:01 (1.41 megabytes)

[c] 2006-2009 Russ Carney of America