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The Autoblow machine, The Liquor Fairy and hitting the wall, Mexican bounce houses, the Sean Show, a tyranny of government occupational licensing fees, women and taxes, a prelude to a grand ball, inspiration vs. manipulation, a moon hoax, dating much younger girls, Hurricane Atlanta, giving my dad gas, Walmart stops selling bullets, the Taking Up Space Force, emotional intelligence, and a big stack of stripper ones; all that and more this week on The Dick Show!

Dick Pics



Now that I’m back from outerspace, I realize made a promise to a very important parody person last month and I am now going to fulfill. The Morlock baseball tees are BACK ON SALE for a limited time! If you missed your chance to pick one up last time, or if you spilled horseradish all over it right when you got to Opening Day last year because the the weird distribution crank system from the 70s is all fucked up, now is your chance to get your hands on one! Red, black, and blue, please allow 2-3 weeks to ship to you.

But first…

“Who needs bullets when you’ve got ice cream?” would probably be a good new slogan for a new America. One that’s fatter than God and unarmed and proud of it at a level of corporate excellence in public relations. And occupationally licensed for it. A strip club with no touching, a dog with no bark, a job without a license. I’m lovin it.

3 out of 10 jobs are covered by mandatory government occupational licensing requirements that offer no consumer protection (and in fact cause harm to consumers), and cost small-business owners and entrepreneurs billions a year. Same problem. And yet neither solution goes far enough. I know that because there is still blood out in them there stones. There is still violence in my heart–and I’m not licensed for it, and there is still plenty of fear. Maybe there’s even more. It’s our number one export, over China and Russia and even North Korea, and it has been for decades.

I propose a radical new system. One that overhauls the current bloated and inefficient ones and replaces them with something bold and worse and dumb, but one that drives at the core of the problem: Take backs.

Or take backsies, or takesie backsies, or however you heard this radical concept expressed as a child, and usually preceded by “no” or “none of these” or “fuck your”, but that’s not because there’s anything inherently wrong with them. It’s because children don’t have the power that we do as a society working together to feed our fear. If you’re going to put a guarantee on a piece of paper anyway, why not make it one that counts, why not make it the law?

Did you get a bad haircut? You’ll get a takesie backsie for that. No need for an expensive and time-consuming occupational license. Someone with a perfectly fine haircut will take a little bit of theirs and give it to you. And then someone else will do it, and someone else and someone else until you’re made right again. See? Wasn’t that fun.

Get shot when you shouldn’t have? Maybe you should have. You probably should have actually, I mean, you were there when it happened, but that’s no matter and it’s no problem under Takesie Backsie Law. We’ll shoot everyone–but only a little bit, until you’re made whole again. I know what you’re thinking, but don’t worry. You can get shot a lot a little bit and still live through it. And we’ve got a lot of people to live through it.

Of course, just between you and me, Takesie Backsie Law has an obvious flaw. It’s going to kill our number one export. You’ll never fear another bad haircut again. You’ll never fear getting shot again. What’s there to be afraid of? I don’t know right away, but if you figure out what it is, let someone know, and they’ll take it until you’re made right again.

“Mistakes Were Made” by Ethan Cantrell



Thumbnail that’s caught in a trap and can’t look back by Cliff Campbell.



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