If You Misuse Handicap Parking Placards, Mike Gatto Wants to Kick You in the Nuts

There are lots of people who steal handicapped parking places from the disabled by using ill-gotten parking placards.  Mike Gatto thinks that’s a bunch of bullshit, and promises to personally kick you in the nuts if he catches you.

I made up that part about Mike Gatto kicking you in the nuts.  But the rest of the story is true, as reported by San Diego’s NBC 7 news team.  Though they quote Gatto, they also spend a good bit of time sucking their own dicks by claiming that the current DMV audit of placard abuse came as a result of a story they did on the topic… two long years ago.

“You have unethical members of the public that are willing to take these spots away from those that need them,” Mike Gatto said as he stroked his massive, jizzy boner just beneath the visible frame of the video.  “You probably have doctors that should not be issuing these placards unless they truly are disabled and then you have the government failing. The DMV should be stronger in how they handle the program, much like I am strongly handling my big dick right now,” he said as jizz droplets erupted from his cock, sprouted wings, and flew away like a million tiny butterflies.

In addition to the audit, other proposals have been floated to stem abuse.  The most obvious one is raising the penalties.  Another involves changing the category of placard abuse from criminal misdemeanor to parking violation, allowing parking enforcement and traffic cops to issue tickets too.

That’s pretty sweet, and so is Mike Gatto.  He’s going to make an excellent California State Treasurer, so make sure you stop jerking off, put your dick away, put on pants, and go vote on November 6th if you live in California.  If you don’t, you can just keep on jerking off all day long like Daulton Gatto (no relation to Mike Gatto).


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Today’s Installment of “Shit We Couldn’t Make Up No Matter How Much Weed We Smoked”: Fiona Ma’s Bizarre Ties to a Notorious Gangster Known as Shrimp Boy

In 1976, a puny little wimp with a massive Napoleon complex named Raymond Chow came to America from Hong Kong. Chow immediately set himself to overcompensating for his diminutive stature and, presumably, small dick by becoming a career criminal. Over the next couple of decades, Chow achieved such notoriety in the seedy underworld of San Francisco’s Chinatown that he needed a sweet-ass nickname. He didn’t get one. People started calling him “Shrimp Boy.”

Stop laughing. This isn’t a joke, stupid. Raymond “Shrimp Boy” Chow terrorized Californians for years. Here’s a short overview of his run-ins with the law:

  • 1978: Shrimp Boy is convicted of armed robbery and serves over seven years in prison
  • 1986: Shrimp Boy faces numerous charges, including mayhem, possession of a firearm, and assault with a deadly weapon. SPOILER ALERT: the deadly weapon was NOT his dick, which remains far too small to cause harm.
  • 1995: Shrimp Boy is convicted yet again, this time on a slew of firearms and prostitution-related charges. I’m too lazy to figure out what the prostitution-related charges were, but I’m guessing they had to do with him pimping out Asian chicks to give $5 handjobs in shady brothels.

Court proceedings related to the 1995 charges revealed that Shrimp Boy was part of an extensive criminal network. Their activities: loan sharking, gambling, extortion, and sucking each other’s dicks.


Shrimp Boy wound up being sentenced to over 23 years in jail. But thanks to America’s overcrowded prisons and limpdick criminal justice system, he was a free man once again by 2003.

So where does Fiona Ma come into this?

Well, after his 2003 release, Shrimp Boy played the entire city of San Francisco for suckers and claimed he was reformed. After letting a few well-placed officials fuck him up the ass, Chow was awarded the city’s “Certificate of Honor” in 2006.

Unsurprisingly, law-abiding citizens cried foul. Here was a violent career criminal fresh out of his third stint in prison, claiming to be reformed, and the city just hands him a fucking Certificate of Honor. Sure, a diploma from DeVry is worth more, but still. Jesus fucking Christ.

At the time, Fiona Ma held a supervisory role for the City of San Francisco. She championed Chow’s receipt of the award and defended him against critics, saying, “Raymond Chow says he’s learned his lesson the hard way and wants to be a positive influence on the lives of young people. I’m an optimist and want to believe that people mean what they say.” She then added, “I once got caught taking a shit in a public pool. I learned my lesson the hard way and I want people to forgive me. I’ll never do it again.”

In 2014, Raymond “Shrimp Boy” Chow was arrested again, this time as part of a massive city-wide sting cracking down on public corruption. Fiona Ma sure showed good judgment by taking a shifty career criminal with ties to the Triad at his word. Imagine what she’d do as California’s state treasurer. “Hey Fiona, I’m a pill-popping stoner who loves hookers and 80s game shows, but I’ve learned my lesson the hard way and I want to contribute to society. I need $3 million to start a landline telephone installation and repair company. It’s a fast-growing, high-value industry and I’ll create hundreds of new jobs. Can you cut me a check?”

Sure, Daulton. Here you go.

Oh, and Ma’s personal pledge never to shit in a public pool again? Yeah. She didn’t keep it.

California can’t afford to elect Fiona Ma as state treasurer in 2018.




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FILM CRITICISM: That Human Centipede Was Not Anatomically Correct

When it comes to high-concept Hollywood blockbusters, we accept a certain amount of hyperbole in advertising.  And usually that’s not a problem because it’s fun to get excited about going to the movies by yourself and eating popcorn and masturbating.  But every so often, a movie veers so far from its advertised premise that you feel cheated and end up hating the movie.

Remember when Dances With Wolves came out and you spent three hours waiting to see Kevin Costner dance with some wolves?  Or when you went to see There Will Be Blood and ended up seeing There Will Be Talking instead?  Such is the case with the horror movie Human Centipede, which featured a human-centipede so anatomically incorrect that it was literally impossible to enjoy the spectacle of seeing humans stitched together at the mouth and anus.

I was so excited when my friend Daulton told me about a new movie called Human Centipede.  We both love shit and the idea of people being forced to eat shit against their will.  And we love the fascinating intricacies of the insect kingdom.  It’s like Hollywood had finally made a movie just for us.  I didn’t expect it to be the greatest movie ever, but I did expect three basic things: mouths, assholes and one hundred legs.  Instead, all I got mouths, assholes and six legs.

Like I said, I’m not naive.  I expect a certain amount of bait-and-switch from any commercial because that’s just the world we live in.  I love Big Macs, but they never look like they do in the commercials.  I’m okay with it though because it’s still got the burger patties, the buns, the lettuce and the special sauce.  But selling a human centipede with only six legs is like selling a Big Mac with just the lettuce.  The very characteristics that define it as a burger are missing, and such is the case with the six-legged “human centipede.”

To be clear, there’s a name for human centipede with six legs… it’s “human hexapede.”  But how many people would have paid ten bucks to go see a Human Hexapede?  None, because the idea of seeing only six legs is extremely lame.   But it’s more than just the specific issue of the number of legs, or even the principle of honesty.

If there’s only three victims in your human centipede, that means there’s only one person in the middle.  That means despite all the hype of the advertising, only one person in that movie was subjected to the full horror implied by the concept of being stitched into a human centipede — namely that your mouth is stitched to an asshole while your asshole is simultaneously stitched to another mouth.  With a human hexapede, there’s only one monkey in the middle!  Hell, the dude in the front doesn’t even have to eat shit — he just shits in someone else’s mouth.  And that’s a whole third of the “centipede” experience right there.   Its unpleasant, sure, but does it really rise to the level of horror?


As long as there was an effective anesthetic, leading a human centipede actually seems pretty sweet.

Let’s say the human centipede had even fifty legs… I wouldn’t have felt cheated.  Unless I did a frame-by-frame analysis, I wouldn’t have even noticed!  So I’m clearly not expecting total honesty from my entertainment about people being sewn to assholes and forced to eat shit.  It’s just hard to let go and surrender my imagination to the world of the story when it feels like the filmmakers are insulting my intelligence and laughing all the way to the bank.



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10 Legitimately Sweet Things About California State Treasurer Candidate Fiona Ma

Mike Gatto has had a lot of vicious enemies over the years.  There was the weird Armenian stalker guy who got slapped with a restraining order, and the dumbass bloggers who make shit up.  And of course, who could forget the foreskin-restoration extremists who branded Mike Gatto “the Face of Genital Cutting in America.”  In short, his enemies list is long.  One would naturally expect that his opponent in the race for California State Treasurer would be ranked among his enemies, but their rivalry is familial.  They’re friends and fellow Democrats from the Assembly.  Despite the fun we’ve had at her expense by either critiquing her legislative record or fabricating satirical scandals, Fiona Ma’s actually not that bad.  In fact, here are ten legitimately sweet things about Fiona Ma.

10.  She looks pretty hot in some of her glossy campaign photos, which definitely counts as sweet.


9.  One time Fiona Ma went to a rave.  Raves are sweet.


8.  Her husband, Jason Hodge is a firefighter, which is pretty damn sweet.


7.  Jason Hodge is also a Native America, which is also sweet.


6.  Fiona Ma passed a law protecting women who murder abusive spouses.  Murder sucks, but in the case of defending yourself from domestic abuse, it’s heroic and therefore sweet.


5.  She got a law passed requiring history classes to include information about the Filipino role in World War 2.  WW2 sucks, but Filipinos are extremely sweet.

Filipino Struggles Through History

4.  She likes hot dogs, which are sweet.


3.  She likes shit and turds, which are both sweet.


2.  She co-sponsored Mike Gatto’s infamous circumcision rights bill, meaning she’s also the face of genital cutting in America.  That’s sweet.


1.  She shamelessly supports legal weed, and weed is the sweetest thing besides jizz.




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Fiona Ma: A Burrito is a Sandwich

(TRIGGER WARNING:  Before continuing with this article, we feel it’s important to issue a warning that some of our readers may find the opinions expressed by Fiona Ma to be upsetting, disrespectful of dismissive.)

According to the saying, the third rail of American politics is Social Security.  But as California State Treasurer candidate Fiona Ma recently discovered after an impromptu Q&A with reporters in Sacramento, the debate over whether or not a burrito is a sandwich may prove even more politically lethal.

It all started innocently enough, with capitol beat reporters lobbing a few underhanded meatballs towards Ma as she waited for her car to arrive.  She gave some boilerplate responses about Trump being bad and environments being good.  That’s when New York Times reporter Maggie Haberman tossed out what was intended to be a joke.

“Ms. Ma!” She shouted, drawing her attention over the press pool, “would you consider a burrito to be a sandwich?”  Without pausing to consider the ramifications her her answer, Ma flippantly shrugged and said, “Sure.”

When a few reporters laughed off her reply, Fiona Ma got defensive and doubled down on her initial position.  “It’s got bread on the outside and meat on the inside, doesn’t it?  Well?  Doesn’t it?” she argued, seemingly unaware that a tortilla is not bread, and that a burrito is wrapped and fully closed, unlike a sandwich.

The playful exchange quickly grew terse, as Ma refused to be quoted and accused the media of leading a witch hunt against her.  When her chauffeured Lincoln Towncar finally arrived, she berated her driver for being late and extended her middle finger to the press as they sped away.

Reached for comment, the Mike Gatto campaign promised their candidate would issue a statement in due time, but wanted to take enough time necessary to thoughtfully consider the question from a multitude of angles.




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If Mike Gatto Was a Dog, Way More Chicks Would Be Into Beastiality

You’d be surprised how many chicks legitimately aren’t into beastiality.  You’d think the sheer size of a dog boner and the curiosity factor would count for more than it does.  In fact, of all the chicks I’ve known in my life, I can only think of one who was into beastiality.  But if California State Treasurer Candidate Mike Gatto was a dog, I’ll bet you way more chicks would be into beastiality.

Mike Gatto would be an especially sexy dog because he would still have lots of vaguely human characteristics, like Mike Gatto’s eyes and Mike Gatto’s smile.  And he’d have Mike Gatto’s rich, velvety voice, his effortless charm and his knack for public speaking.  And he’d have a great big boner, which would look like a cross between a dog boner and a human boner.  So sweet.

Plus, there would probably be lots of chicks who would we down to fuck dog Mike Gatto simply because he’d be wealthy and powerful and famous.  Everyone around the world would know the dog who served in the California State Assembly, not just the voters of the 43rd district.  He’d have like a million followers on Instagram and chicks would DM him for hook-ups all the time.

Honestly, if chicks could just let themselves fuck dog Mike Gatto, it would probably break down the door for lots more dog fucking in general.  Once you let yourself cross that line and fuck a dog — even one with the anthropomorphic characteristics of your favorite candidate for California State Treasurer — those taboos swirling around other dogs and other species would probably melt away.

Then dog Mike Gatto would be heralded as a champion of sexual equality, and people would look back on 2017 as this oppressively barbaric pre-history where species weren’t allowed to fuck each other, and any chick who fucked a dog could be stoned or jailed or excommunicated from society.

Let’s be honest, dogs are perfectly fine with fucking humans.  If you were a dog and all you did all day was fuck dog pussies, are you gonna tell me you wouldn’t be overjoyed at the prospect of fucking a hot chick’s pussy?  The only thing that keeps dogs from consenting to fucking humans is their lack of opposable thumbs.  Otherwise, everywhere you look, you’d see dogs smiling and giving everybody ‘two thumbs up’ while they fucked chicks — doggy style, of course.

But let me get back on track.  The point I’m trying to make is that if Mike Gatto, candidate for California State Treasurer, was a dog, there would be lots more chicks out there who would suddenly realize they were cool with fucking dogs.  If you ask me, that’s the kind of inclusive, loving and EROTIC world I want to  live in.


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Fiona Ma’s Failed Anti-Raves Bill Was A Textbook Example of Pointless, Costly Legislative Overreach

Fiona Ma’s tenure in the California State Assembly was marred by failed attempts to legislate her own grievances away.  Whether it’s changing traffic laws to benefit her commute or trying to regulate plasticized corpses out of our science museums, time and time again, Fiona Ma seems more motivated by personal grievances than a groundswell of public support.

But there are times when Fiona Ma has been motivated to legislate for reasons beyond her own self-interest.  Like the one time she tried to ban raves because raves were in the news.  Google rave controversies, and there you’d find Fiona Ma’s name, bravely tilting at windmills for everyone to see.

Look, that kind of legislature whoring is nothing unique to Fiona Ma.  Hell, I even called Mike Gatto out for it when he shamelessly tried to attach his name to “affluenza,” the buzz word of that moment, by proposing a law that restricted judges from considering that legal argument.  Look, Mike Gatto’s an attorney, and he knew there was no way in hell the courts would accept state assemblymen telling them what arguments they could or couldn’t consider.  But passing the law wasn’t the point.  The point was to surf the wave of somebody else’s bad P.R. and make himself look like a hero to anyone looking.

So that was the case in 2011, when Fiona Ma tried to ban raves at public event spaces like the LA Colosseum.  To understand this cynical, reactionary attempt at costly government overreach, we first need to step back.

In 2011, there were two high profile instances of ecstasy overdoses at LA raves.  In total, three people died.


Yes only three people were killed.  Three… as in slightly more than two and slightly less than four.  Tragic, yes, but not quite the health epidemic that staircases present, as nearly a thousand people die every year from tripping on stairs.

Regardless of logic, practicality and cost, Fiona Ma saw an opportunity to get her name in the press, so she cobbled together a deeply flawed piece of legislation known as the Anti-Rave Act of 2011 (AB-74), which was met with obvious and deserved backlash.

Rumors swirled that Ma had withdrawn the bill after it disappeared from legislative agendas, but she insisted it was still alive and that soon it would come roaring back.  And it eventually did, but by then, the bill had been so watered down that there really wasn’t any point to its existence.

Instead of her proposed ban on raves at public spaces, Fiona Ma’s AB-74 ultimately required that “If the state agency determines that, based on the facts presented to it in the assessment, there is a strong probability that loss of life or harm to the participants could occur, then the state agency shall require the promoter to prepare an event action plan.”

Yep.  That’s the sum total of her year of work on that bill.  If an inspector thinks someone could get hurt, then an organizer has to write an “action plan.”  That’s it.  So back in the real world, here’s how Fiona Ma’s dumbass new law would have played out in the case of three people out of millions dying because of ecstasy overdoses…

INSPECTOR:  Do you have an ‘action plan’ if someone overdoses on ecstasy?

EVENT PLANNER:  Yes, we will call the EMT’s.

Hahaha.  Dumbasses are so funny!  But that whole process probably cost California tax payers a few million bucks.  Still laughing?

A side note: at one point, Fiona Ma announced that she’d be doing her own research into rave culture by attending one herself.  I’m not sure if she ever actually did, or of that was more public relations showboating, but in an interview with San Francisco Weekly, she seemed totally fucking clueless about what a rave actually is, claiming they’re full of “people walking around like zombies, sleeping all over, lying all over the floor, vomiting in the corners, vomiting in the bathrooms … people lying in their own urine.”

Yep, she sounds like an accountant’s perspective on partying.





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