What I need is a manifesto.
Everybody has one. How are The Authorities to understand why you act the fool if you don’t provide some sort of owner’s manual? A map detailing the weed-strangled, varmint-infested trails between your hairy ears?
Fun Fact: The word “manifesto” has its roots in Latin, deriving from the noun manus, which means “hand,” and festus, the scruffy character who in 1964 replaced Chester Goode as Marshal Matt Dillon’s deputy on the TV oater “Gunsmoke.”
Thus “manifesto” means “Hand of Festus,” or, more accurately, “Fist of Festus,” something often found in some miscreant’s face.
As in season 12, episode 17 of “Gunsmoke,” titled “Mad Dog,” in which Festus believed he’d been bitten by a rabid mutt and was on the brink of a hideous death, which for some reason led him to beat the snot out of Goober from “The Andy Griffith Show,” who was on leave from Mayberry and moonlighting as a bad man.
So I’m thinking my manifesto should say something like “Don’t act like an evil Goober unless you’re after a puck in the gob,” which should suit the ever-shortening national attention span.
And maybe we should throw something in there about how you don’t want to get bit by no mad dogs neither. As Festus has taught us:
That hydrophobia, it’s a pretty sorry way to die, ain’t it, Doc? You know, a fellow gets shot, why, he’ll just fall flat on his face. Oh, he might kick a couple of times, that’s what makes the crowds turn out. But what I mean is he won’t go just snatching off his clothes and sashaying around trying to bite folks.
Of course, that advice may be coming a little late for a few of the strutting mutts who really need it. But don’t try to pin the rap on me, just because I suddenly have a manifesto. Their rabies ain’t my doing. I wouldn’t bite ’em with your teeth.
Mad Blog Media 
“Fuck it! Don’t mean nothing.” That was the speech balloon above Snoopy engraved on my Vietnam Zippo lighter. Manifesto? It kinda works for this latest attempt.
Read that melanomia was upset about Kimmel’s “glow of an expectant widow” comment two days before the dinner shooting. Like the guy is a mentalist or sumptin. Did she think he was there? If he was he woulda had a gig at the dinner instead of Oz. Where all these Oz guys coming from? Is there an asshole breeding mill in Jersey cranking Oz guys out?
“The glow of an expectant widow.” This I like. Kimmel delivers.
Too many Oz-holes, for sure. Many of them Knights of the Fourth Estate who waited until the all-clear sounded before creeping out from under their tables in soiled formal armor to give us a play-by-play of the Attack That Mostly Wasn’t, of which they saw mostly nothing.
But not Salad Man. This dude deserves a Bronze Star to go with his brass balls:
What’s that? Melonhead is professing again. I suppose she’s getting practice for when Lucifer pokes her in the ass and tells her to get back to guarding the gate. These lameduckians can sure whine. I watched the TV show with the ticking clock and laughed when the biggest loser president insulted the host. He was doing rather well until he got offended for being associated with scum, even though in the past, he and melonhead had no problem associating with scum. The network that produces the show shouldn’t have wasted their time talking with the buffoon. There’s more worthy news out there in the world.
Here’s to hoping that the time you take to produce a manifesto is overshadowed by the time you spend out riding, running, walking and hugging your honey.
Everyone needs a manifesto. Otherwise, what’s the point of all this performance farting around? If the dipshit had spent more time thinking it through instead of writing his Dear Mom essay, we might have been in a big world of shit instead of more comedy.
We’ll have a little less comedy if Ozzy and Harridan get Kimmel sacked. Christ, what a gaggle of sniveling little bitches.