4:15 p.m.
• Mother fucker. Going into the last game of the season, my NCAA 05 team loses 15-14 against eighth-ranked Penn State. So long faux-BcS national title shot. At least I made the Orange Bowl, so I won’t be getting fired. What killed me this game was that due to injury I only had three starting wide receivers, which really hurt my passing game. Two field goals could have been prevented, and I’m still trying to figure out how that touchdown pass with 42 seconds left got through my secondary. Oh well. It’s not like there’s an actual bona fide champion in Division I college football anyway. I’m just pissed that PSU beat me. Oh, and the game said this was the GREATEST FOOTBALL GAME OF ALL TIME afterward, or something like that. Well whoopie f’n doo.
9 a.m.
• I think what I find the funniest about this latest invasion article is that the Mexican government doesn’t even want this person over in their country.
8:30 p.m.
• Get over it animal-rights people. It's domesticated. It's not a tiger. Don't try to rehab it into its "natural habitat." Just let it do its thing on someone's property that's willing to adopt the animal.
Wait a second, JAIL TIME? My crack-whore sister-in-law has done much worse in her life than take an antelope home with her and stays out of the big house. Hell, my brother-in-law one time told some cops looking for the crack-whore that he would take them to her apartment so they could haul her off in cuffs. No deal.
8:15 p.m.
• So I watched “Alien” for the first time in years. Was better the third time around but I still like the sequel better. Hudson is one of my favorite movie characters, and if I were ever to go out like he did I’d want to also be busting out curses with every other word. However, “Alien” still pisses me off in the scene when the black guy sacrifices his life while the chick just sits there and screams. Bitch, run.
• After “Alien,” I tuned into the hippie IFC channel and saw the Henry Rollins show. After hearing his guest, Gore Vidal, talk for 30 seconds about how Republicans stole the ’04 election in Ohio, I laughed and changed the channel.
• I’m getting a rise out of those “viva Viagra” ads, but it has nothing to do with my junk. Who comes up with these ideas?
• You know, there’s some things that I just don’t want to know about.
6:30 p.m.
• So I thought the worst was over today for my afternoon commute. I pick up Mrs. kkk in Shittsburgh, and this week all the pseudo-hippie college students come back to the big city. Traffic sucks for this week, but it wasn’t all that bad. Until today. Forty fucking minutes to move a mile or two from the Parkway to my exit. There was one positive though. Despite the several signs telling “thru traffic” to stay away from the right-hand lane, which was where the back up was occurring, there were people who stayed in the lane thinking there was congestion on the Parkway’s three lanes. It’s funny to see the faces on these motorists and the looks of disgust they give when they figure out that they spent the last 10 minutes idling for no reason because the right lane is full of college students trying to get off the Parkway. Then there are the bitches who try to cut in line. No dice, pal. That’s always fun to do, too. I’m laid-back when letting people in, but not in these instances. It’s assholes like these people which add 10 minutes to my 30-minute wait in the car. Fuck that. Thank God I'm taking Friday off so I only have to put up with this shit for one more day this week.
• Huh, Goldblum grew up around here. That's all I got.
Ha.
Is this a movie or something? I only skimmed through; the fact the article said it was going to be on Starz Cinema -- the hippie channel -- was all I needed to know. That and Starz Cinema is showing that movie thing about the Dixie Terrorists. Starz also has a "black" channel where all it shows is "Glory Road."
• Forget the fact that millions upon millions of tax money was spent on other things than bridge repairs -- it was PIGEON SHIT that did the structure in.
• I heard this on "Around the Horn" today.
OMG the NFL makes money off of beer ads/sales. So fucking what? I understand the point about fans getting drunk at games, but it has been years since I've attended a pro football game so I don't know if there is a "cut off" point where booze sales cease.
• And the point of this would be what?
I would put money on the T-Rex every time. And not only do you need to outrun the Tyrannosaurus, but you would have to do so enough to be out of chomping distance.
3 p.m.
• So this morning when my lunch cooler fell on the ground, splitting one of the yogurt cups inside, I said “fuck.” When my cell phone hit the road as I went to deal with said cooler (all while in the rain) I said “s’gonna be a bad day, tater.” I was right. I discovered this morning that the publication I produce was going to have an extra 600+ readers. After some digging, I discovered this was due to a computer error regarding some sort of update in our customer database that I was never made aware of. Oh was this a fun morning. At least when I went to explain the problem to the powers-that-be, there was nothing they could bitch about considering it was their fault we’ll be paying several hundred dollars more for this mailing than we should.
• N*gga plz.
• Remember that story a while back about these three teens getting robbed and killed in Newark, N.J. – yeah, I know, which crime; it’s Newark, after all. Turns out one of killers is an invader.
I guess he needed some quick money in-between the 20 jobs he works. They’re here in this country for jobs, after all.
8 p.m.
• You know what else is pissing me off? With all this rain my area has been getting, the lawn has grown by leaps and bounds. Mother fucker, and I just mowed the lawn not too long ago. Well, it could be worse. I heard on the radio today that some place in Shittsburgh just had the roads paved but no drains installed. This means the plethora of H2O Mother Nature has been giving us has been making its way into some houses. One yins-er said he can’t live in this neighborhood due to all the flooding that’s taken place over the past few months. That’s gotta suck, although I can think of a few other reasons to get the hell out of the city.
7:45 p.m.
• Ugh. So today the personal shopping scanner thingys were down at the grocery store. What does this mean? I had to have a cashier ring up the groceries. Fuck. Not only were the check-out lines hella long, but I was in front of some fat bitch who squirted out a kid and was paying for her groceries via WIC. What does the rapper Willie D have to say about this sort of thing?
Damn straight, dawg. Here I am going through my coupons trying to make every cent count and this person in front of me spread her legs a year ago and now I have to pay for her groceries, too. “But it’s for her baby, kkk.” N*gga, I’m a Republican. Make the kid get a job. Anyway, when it was my turn, I got a fucking attitude because the cashier had to do something funky with my advantage card. I was told by the personal scanner chick that the cashier had to override my shopper card thing, and when I told the casher this, you would have thought I had asked her to take my groceries out to the car, go to my house and cook the food for me. Then there was the 90-year-old bagger with the hump who put my four bags of instant mashed potatoes in THREE DIFFERENT BAGS. Fuck, I wish I could have bagged my groceries as I went, which is what you do with the personal shopper scanning thingy. Then the cashier accuses me of not buying two Butterball turkey bacon packages, thus making my $1 off coupon invalid. Bitch, don’t even think you’re going to Jew me out of my dollar off – after all, I just spent $50+ dollars on the customer before me for Similac and other shit. Because I was also bagging my groceries and was sorting the products by bag, I knew that the turkey bacon was with the buy-one-get-one-free chicken breasts (the turkey bacon was also on sale, for those keeping score at home). I whipped out my Butterballs and shoved them in her face. Well, not really, but you get the point. I’m a coupon-clipping pro, ho. Don’t pick this battle because you’re going to lose. Anyway, after all that shit it was time to go home. God I miss you personal shopper scanning thing. Please be all better when I come back next Tuesday, same bat time, same bat channel.
7 a.m.
• So whenever the better half and I go to sleep, the cats have been joining us on the bed as of late. Normally it was just Dessa who slept with us, but during the past few weeks our two males have also joined us, much to their sister's chagrin. Anyway, last night at around 1 a.m. I rolled over on Max's tail. He let out a yelp, which caused JJ to pounce on him -- right on top of me. After a few seconds of wrestling and screaming (all on top of my chest) they took off down the hall. This in turn caused Dessa to chase after them, and after about 20 more seconds of screaming and hissing, it all went silent. At one o'clock in the fucking morning. Oh this is going to be such a long-ass day.
7:30 p.m.
• With my state recently getting into the slot machine business, I can't wait until this starts and the shit hits the fan, so to speak.
Wha-? What are they supposed to do. Inspect every seat someone gets up from?
And he still went back in to play. Fuck are these people pathetic.
Man, and with Pennsylvania home to bunches and bunches of old people, there should be nothing but good times ahead.
• Hey Smues, if the thought of planning a wedding is too much, try this. It will be less painful.
7:15 p.m.
• Wow, so Michael Vick was fibbing when he said he had nothing to do with "Bad Newz Kennels"? I'm shocked.
One thing I've wondered about during this whole ordeal. Even if he never plays football again, he was in the midst of a $100+ million contract (and I'm not even talking about endorsements). If he ends up broke due to not being able to play football, he truly is a dipshit (not like he's one already).
3 p.m.
• As a follow-up to my 10:30 a.m. entry, I've been stealing Jim Rome's "ERRR" soundbite at work for a while now. Let's just say the job I took in 2004 isn't the same one as it is now. It's amazing one you agree to a wage how suddenly there were BONUS duties that weren't mentioned in the interview process. For a while I used the term "told" when describing something that wasn't in my original job description. This February, I was brought in to my head boss' office where he attempted to scold me for my over-use of the word "told" in that month's report. (I used the magic word 5 times in an 1,100-word report. Oh, and I also mentioned that the "assistant" I was to hire, who had to have a college degree, was to be paid no more than $8/hour. Funny enough, there were no takers.) Much to his surprise, I countered. Boy did I ever counter. See, when you have things like facts and the truth on your side you tend to be much more relaxed when people are attempting to besmirch you. Anyway, I was "forbidden" to use the T-word. Works for me. What do I do now? Let's see.
Me talking to a sympathetic ear: "It's funny how I was tol--ERRR 'instructed' to create these TPS reports when, during my interview, I was tol-ERRR ‘it was said to me’ that this wouldn’t be my responsibility.
Yeah, no more "told." That was a good idea there, chief.
10:30 a.m.
• Nice. During the first segment of Boortz’s national broadcast there was a caller talking about the topic of “Would you vote for a Mormon for president.” After a long conversation of “faith,” “understanding” and all that other touchy-feely crap, the caller answered the question. “Yes … if it means keeping Hitlery out of office.” She must read "KK's Korner" because I can't imagine anyone else coming up with such a witty, original name to describe the future POTUS.
7:15 p.m.
• It was reported in a local newspaper that my out-of-control niece-in-law got in trouble with the law. She recently waived a hearing on a charge of drug possession. She got busted several months ago after being pulled over by the po-po for speeding in a residential neighborhood. When her car was being searched, the Man found a bag of crack cocaine. (Allegedly, of course).
Bwahahahahahahahahahaha.
To make things better, in the next article another drug possession story was reported. The suspect is a neighbor of my crack-whore sister-in-law.
• Uhhh…
Well, the amount of time I spend with my family does determine my happiness. Of course, the less time I spend with them the happier I am. Then again, I’m not 24 anymore. Eh, I’ve pretty much been anti-family my life so whatever.
• So I saw “Flight Plan” earlier today. My God what a steaming pile of shit. SPOILERZ ahead~! Typical Hollywood garbage. OMG, the Air Marshall was the terrorist all along. I bet George W. Bush was the one who masterminded the whole thing. And I was waiting for the Muslim who was accused of being a terrorist to share a tender moment with Jodie Foster at the film’s end. Gag. At first I thought this was going to be one of those, “Her kid is dead and she’s making shit up,” but that was way too easy, and when the movie dialogue brought this up I was thinking, “Oh Christ this is actually going to be a conspiracy.”
• Yeah, because tobacco isn't taxed enough already.
You know, just ban the shit if you don't want people smoking.
11:15 p.m.
• As a follow-up to yesterday's entry about the pseudo-kkk. Here's a PM exchange from a mod from late last night. I'm sure you can figure out who is who:
They say the best comedy has a hint of truth to it.
6:15 p.m.
• Actually, this isn't too bad an idea. At least it'll be easy to spell.
For some reason, whenever I type out the name "Chris" I add a "t" at the end. If I was a Chinese resident and had two kids, I'd name them "Ping" and "Pong." And when they misbehave, I would spank them with a paddle.
12:45 p.m.
• Wow, a few blog entries have been looking back over the past year or so. I might as well do the same – for the past three hours.
I’m at lunch during my hippie meeting. Of course, one dipshit makes some lame-ass attempt to make it appear that I don’t do my job and I completely blow him out of the fucking water. Basically, I was accused of not doing something. The problem is I need to first be told by someone higher up on the food chain to do it. Several people that I’m cool with shook my hand during the mid-morning break for putting this asshole back in his place. Not sure if I’ll have a Monday morning meeting about it though.
Regarding Smues and his hatred of airlines. The last time I was a passenger on an airplane was 10 years go this summer. I hate flying. I’m not “afraid” but I think part of my distaste comes from not being able to think you’re in control. For example, if you’re driving and a big rig comes at you, there’s some chance you could escape. When your jet is nose-diving several thousand feet toward the earth, there’s really nothing much you can do about it. Anyway, back to my story. I was going to California to visit my half-brother and I had an aisle seat with this mom and four brats: One kid was next to her on a window seat and the other three were in the row behind us. Of course they were out of control and I had to get up a bunch of times for her to take her kids to the bathroom. Whatever. However, on this Shittsburgh-to-LA flight, we passed over the Grand Canyon. As I tried to sneak a peek at this hole in the ground, the mom and kid had their heads up to the window with nowhere for me to look. After the plane passed, the mom looked at me and suddenly acted all shocked that they didn’t give me a chance to view the sight. “Billie, sit back so the man can see.” Nice try but way too late seeing how the canyon was out of view. Oh well, the next time she turned around to control her kids behind us I just took up all of the arm rest (we had been sharing the whole flight) and when she turned back around to sit down she had to lean toward her kid for the duration of the tip.
Oh, yeah. There were these Indians in front of us (dot-heads, not tomahawks) who were a pain in the ass the whole time to the stewardesses and gay male attendants. The highlight came when they ordered a veggie meal but didn’t actually order it pre-flight, which is what you were supposed to do. That must have sucked for the flight attendants when they went to the passengers who actually ordered these special meals and realized their mistake.
Lunchtime is almost over. Back to sitting and going over my MVP baseball rosters for another few hours.
10 p.m.
• Regarding SFA Jack’s workday: One time the fire alarm went off at my place of employment and everybody in the building was like, "uh what do we do?” How about LEAVE THE FUCKING BUIDLING? Was this alarm a short circuit or something like that? Probably. But it’s a FIRE ALARM. I grabbed my keys and wallet and headed out. I don’t care if there wasn’t a fire. I didn’t want to be one of those people caught in a raging inferno and have it announced later that despite the fire alarm going off I stayed in the building. Christ, I’m not that stupid.
• You know the funniest thing about this -- I actually paused for several seconds and thought, “Did I really type that earlier today? I don't even remember logging in to TSM today.”
• So the better half and I went to our one friend’s house tonight (the one with the one baby daddy in jail for armed robbery, for those keeping score at home). Not only did her and the baby daddy of kid #2 overpay for this house, but they got an adjustable and the so-called man of the house has a problem with credit-card debt. From what I heard, he maxes out his cards on frivolous shit. Ugh. Seriously, you’re not a kid anymore. You’ve got a mortgage, a pseudo-wife and two kids – one of which isn’t yours. You chose this life. Now deal with it. And by “deal with it,” I don’t mean “go out and buy stupid shit.”
• Christ, I have to go to a stupid board meeting where I sit there all day an collect a per diem that’s half of what I make in a normal workday. With me coming in on Sunday to finish up some work, I would be coming in for a full week, Sunday-Saturday. I thought about this for a second and realized what a lazy shit I’ve become. Back in the day I went to school and worked full-time, I worked two jobs/seven days/60+ hours per week. Now I’m bitching about this? Well, yeah.
• When I was taking out the trash at around 10:30 p.m. last night, I noticed several kids on my street playing football with a glow-in-the-dark pigskin. I then got one of those flashbacks to when I was in high school and did stuff like that. I was bummed for a second until I realized how much I like my present years more than my teen years, believe it or not. Yeah, I was a real bitter, cynical sonofabitch back then.
• Speaking of sorta mid-life crises, the better half got “Wild Hogs” from the mother-in-law to watch tonight. Jesus Christ. I knew this was going to be bad, and I was right. Sadly, Mrs. kkk found it hilarious. Oh well, at least Ray Liotta was a surprise. I had no idea he was that desperate for money.
kkk's Top 103 Posters
Number 13: NoCal Mike
You know, one might think I hate liberals. And while that may be true, there’s one group out there I hate even more. Those faggot “independents” that are bigger commies than Khrushchev. Fuck I hate these people. If you’re going to be for anti-American shit then just come out and say it. Don’t pretend you’re all high and mighty. Calling yourself an “independent” doesn’t make you any smarter than reactionary fucks like me. Medium-Large Media may spooge all over you come election time, and they might invite to their “focus group rooms” during a debate just so we can see how MODERATES react to the candidates' responses. Give me a break. This is why I love people like NoCal Mike. If you’re going to hate this country, at least be honest about it. NoCal is, and that’s why he rules. Shit, he’s one of the few left-wingers that I believe would vote for Ralph Nader. And while I’m not a huge fan of the "mindless zombies taking over the world” movies, NoCal loves ‘em. Say, maybe he is a Democrat after all. And he watched “OZ,” which might explain some of his opinions on gay marriage. (I hope the future Mrs. NoCalMichelle knows about this.) Wait a second, that "OZ" thread was in response to a thread I started. Uh, nevermind. Go queers!
8 p.m.
• Still haven't really gotten used to MP3 and all that other shit. Damn kids.
7:45 p.m.
• So when I got my super-sized cable package a few weeks ago, one of the channels I’m surprised I haven’t checked out more is the NFL Network. Today I had some preseason game on from several days ago and couldn’t decide if this was a good or bad thing. I’ve never been big into preseason, but I never had my livelihood depend on these “meaningless” games. Charles Barkley once said that preseason is just to screw over the fans, but I don’t have a problem with them. Sure there’s always those handful of starters that get hurt for the year, but this is how many teams gauge second-string talent. Talent that take over for injured or under-performing starters in the regular season. It’s weird watching preseason games because while you watch a missed tackle on a third and 10 play and shrug your shoulders, the defender at fault is probably thinking other things, especially if he’s not the opening-day starter.
• Oh for fuck’s sake, W. can’t get his pro-invasion legislation so now we shouldn’t go after the invaders for the sake of Census figures? Boo-fucking hoo.
When it comes to illegals, there’s only one number that should be considered for the Census: too many.
9 p.m.
• SPOILERZ AHEAD~! Trust me, you're better off knowing them in this case.
So I got done watching “Ultraviolet.” Here’s the best way I can describe it. About two-thirds of the way through, Mrs. kkk comes home from some Catholic thing they do today and the following conversation takes place.
“What are you watching?”
“Ultraviolet.”
“What’s it about?”
“Honestly. I have no idea.”
So this blood made people vampires and some guy who’s in charge wants them all dead so he makes this kid with stuff in him that can kill them, but it’s actually for humans so Mole’s Girlfriend kills a bunch of people because she’s feeling maternal or something. I don’t know. I really don’t have much of an opinion of this chick. Nothing against her. She seems nice enough. And I like her cheekbones. The facial ones. For some reason when I watch those “Resident Evil” movies I think to myself, “Why am I watching this?” But I do. I really liked the black guy in the first one who got diced. That was kinda Jewish – at least give a brother a chance to get away.
Well it looks like I'm not the only one to give this thing lackluster reviews. Oh, yeah. I forgot about those "Vampire Tears of Resurrection."
6:30 p.m.
• Oh Barry, I was going to defend you on this…
…but then I heard about this.
How about instead of going after Schilling you take on those people that, oh, I don’t know, wrote a book about your shenanigans? Well, I said I was going to comment on your "body armor," and I am a man of my word. I don't see the big deal about the "body armor," when the biggest target on him is his head.
• And while I’m on this subject, n*gga plz.
Honey, what Imus did to you ain’t defamation. If anything, you ought to be thanking him because now you have some recognition. Then again, you can’t blame a sister for trying to get paid – perhaps this will result in an out-of-court settlement or something. Then again, the "libel, slander and defamation" part of the article got me thinking to my favorite line of the "Spiderman" movie series.
"Spider-Man wasn't trying to attack the city, he was trying to save it. That's slander."
"It is not. I resent that. Slander is spoken. In print, it's libel."
Sorry, a little journalism humor.
8:15 p.m.
• You know, it's shit like this that really pisses me off.
Now most of the time fast-food places try to put good-looking gals at the registers and in drive-thrus. This is done in hopes that irate customers won't be so pissed off in front of a pretty face. I never got that myself. "Yeah, I was going to scream at you for my long wait, but maybe if I act all understanding your panties will get wet and you'll craw through the window and suck me dry while I'm pounding my Big Mac and fries." Now there have been a few instances when I've worked drive thru during my high schools years and I hated it, especially late night. This was because the people back in the grill were cleaning equipment and didn't give a shit how long it took an order to complete. This, of course, made the lazy drive-thru people angry and I had to bear the brunt of it. Fortunately, I never had a pepper spray to the eyes or worse -- just a drive off before the person's order could be complete.
A similar incident to the story mentioned above happened at a somewhat local McDonald's here, and it was funny listening to the one RIGHT-WING RADIO station's local host comment on it. Actually, the callers were the real joy. A number of them opined about how terrible the culture is and all that shit while trying to figure out how to stop it. Here's an idea that isn't put to much use these days in most areas of law enforcement.
PUNISH THE ASSHOLES WHO DO THIS SHIT.
You want to assault some poor teen trying to earn money for college? Give this shit the maximum, harshest penalty available. Send the fuck to juvenile hall or jail. When the teen's scumbag defense lawyer that mommy and daddy paid for trying to whine about it to the judge, have the judge go, "N*gga plz" and tack on a few more months. After a several of these sentences, I'm quite sure it will be safer for customer service representatives to say, "here's your order" and not have to worry about being assaulted. And for the teens that do get ambushed with this kind of bullshit: Find the Jewiest lawyer out there and sue the shit out of the bitches that did this to you. And if these perps are of minor age, go after the parents, which would be even better.
8 p.m.
• Yet another story of wedded bliss. During our grocery store trip today I got a thing of Nestle Quik, or that hippie abbreviated version. Why did I do it? I was in the mood for some chocolaty goodness. That and it was on sale and I had a coupon. Anyway, for some reason we were talking about this on the way home and she said, "Chocolate milk is good ... if you're 10." My retort? "This coming from the person who watches Scooby Doo DVDs when she goes to bed in her Scooby Doo pjs." Silence. Well at least it's the original Scooby Doo cartoons and not the retarded newer versions. I think my first boner came from looking at Daphne, which is odd because I’m not normally attracted to red-heads. Either that or I got my first stiffy from some special Geraldo did back in the day about hookers.
3 p.m.
• You know what I hate about deadlines? Going over shit without the radio on. How can I listen to Boortz when I have stuff to proofread and finalize. Damn responsibility.
• We can't keep illegals from crossing our border. I'm sure this place will be able to control this.
• What the hell was the point of this? "That bitch. I hate her. Say, maybe if I make her cat sterile, that'll teach her a lesson."
The only reason I'm making light of this is that the cat is expected to recover, though I'm not sure the feline's junk will. Oh well, kitties need to be fixed anyway. And it could have been worse than just a box cutter.
• I've mentioned the groundhog that lives under my shed a few times and explained why I leave him alone for the most part. Here's another reason: he's not Grumpy.
10:30 p.m.
• So I just got done watching the new “Bad News Bears.” Sure it was pretty much the same as the old version, but actually it wasn’t all that bad. I’m not a huge fan of the first film, so I’m not going to go “OMG they changed it to make it all PC and shit.” In fact, it seemed like this version was more offensive. There were some things I thought were better in the ‘70s version (like how the chick ends up “losing” the bet with that Kelly kid), but on the other hand there were some modern-day gags I liked (the cripple catching the ball at the end was cute). Oh, yeah. And how can you go wrong with dialogue like this?
And I have no idea who Marcia Gay Harden was until this film, but damn was she a MILF, even for a lawyer.
One thing that struck me though was it would actually be cool to coach a team like this, if only because you could get some non-PC company to sponsor the uniforms. I’ve mentioned before that there’s this bar/restaurant down the street from me whose owner puts up this kind of stuff on his marquee all the time. His most recent line is something about getting wetbacks out of the country (don’t worry, commies, he hates W., too). I’d love to have him as my team’s sponsor. I’d let him put stuff on the back of the jerseys like…
Want to see more. Peep this.
7 p.m.
• He came. He saw. He stole elections. He shifted hurricanes to black neighborhoods. He sloppily constructed levees in said black neighborhoods. He made Halliburton billions of dollars.
I <{ Karl Rove.
• Nothing worth griping about today. Spending the day at work on the monthly publication. Like I’ve said before, I LOVE coming in on the weekend as opposed to trying to get this shit done during the workweek. I’m by myself, got AC/DC playing in the background, without the hassle of the idiot boss or phone calls, and I’m wearing shorts and a t-shirt. No, I want the above-mentioned hassles along with that “DEADLINE” looming on the horizon. And to make matters better, I don’t have to come in on a workday sometime in this pay period (Right now I’m scoping August 24 or possibly the 27th.)
• Boy what a pussy.
Yeah, like what’s the big deal. It’s only an ANKLE. In the sport of SOCCER. He ought to man up and play through the pain. Grant Hill did and look how great his NBA career was afterward.
• Assuming this is true...
...it only makes me LOL even harder knowing that Richards' character in that one Bond film was a nuclear scientist, or something like that. It’s been years since I’ve watched “The World is Not Enough" so my memory is a bit hazy.
I was close enough. Look, I get that you have to suspend belief when watching television programs or movies, but this is a bit too much.
1 p.m.
• So the better half and I were watching “Dark Water” last night when I saw a robin fly into our back window. OK, I’ve talked before about birds running into our one window/screen thing out on the back porch, but this was a window on the side of the house. There’s NO excuse for any animal to get a running start and go “splat” against the side of this house. That is, of course, the bird owed money. This meant I had to get the shovel and bury the thing in the back yard near the shed. I think the bird body count is now around five. I can’t wait until I bury a future dead bird and dig up one of these carcasses by mistake. At least if the dead ever decide to rise up I’ll have one heck of an aviary.
Anyway, about “Dark Water.” (SPOLERZ AHEAD~!) Wasn’t bad. Wasn’t great. Read up on the movie here because I’m too lazy to tell you about the plot. The first hour just dealt with the Jennifer Connelly character (Dahlia Williams) and her kid moving into some shit hole of an apartment. Yawn. The ending could have been great. Basically, Dahlia sacrificed herself to be the ghost-kid’s mom in order to save her own child. Not bad. However, it was established that the Dahlia suffered from delusions, and the final bit with her kid pretty much established that the ghost kid was real. I would have liked it to be less clear – was there really a ghost kid or did Dahlia make up the whole thing? You could say that Dahlia’s kid also suffered from delusions, too, and that the final scene was from the imagination of Dahlia’s kid, but I don’t see it that way. For the record, I heard this was the American version of a Jap film; I didn’t see the latter version. Oh well, let’s see what others thought:
What has this got to do with “Dark Water”? I have no idea.
7 p.m.
• A teacher lost his job over this? If "he" was a "she" and "she" was "hot" and "she" had sex with her students, then this teacher would still be gainfully employed at best, collecting a paycheck while sitting at home at worst.
You know, isn't this this same place which had that reality show where Dick Butkus quit coaching the high school football team before the season ended?
Nope. You lost today, kid. But that doesn't mean you have to like it.
6:30 p.m.
• Be warned. If you venture to the Discovery Channel, steer clear of this shit.
kkk's Top 103 Posters
Number 14: King of the 909
It’s good to be King. Now being King of just the 909? I don’t know. From reading the limited entries in his blog it doesn’t appear that royalty in a state filled with illegal aliens would be all that appealing. Then again, if you were really King you’d be able to kill these leeches and then put a few in the heads of the Amnesty International and ACLU faggots that object. Funny enough, when he signed up for kkk Bowl years ago I thought for some reason he was black. But then he starts an ice hockey thread. Well so long to ethnic speculation. But back to “King’s Shit.” If you read the tagline to this cyber-diary it says:
Really? Well let’s see what has bugged Mr. 909 since December of 2005.
College Bowl games.
The weekend of December 12 in the sports world.
Smush Parker.
The media not letting the Suns/Lakers go.
MLB teams and their trading tactics.
Uncontentness.
His workplace.
Towel-head Thanksgivings.
Blog entries getting deleted when he writes a bunch of stuff.
This year’s March Madness tournament.
George Karl.
The Lakers.
The Lakers some more.
THAT’S IT? N*gga I have more things annoy me during a trip to the grocery store. But you can count me in as one of those people that don’t think soccer is “gay.” However, please don’t start talking about Europe Cups, Manchester United or whatever the hell is going on in that continent below us.
9:15 p.m.
• Well, we've been to London and we've been to L.A. Spain, New Zealand, and the U.S.A.
Europe, Japan, and Pango-Pango Canada, Siam, Oz and Kamoto
The kids all come from miles around
The party gets started when the sun goes down
A Holiday Inn's the only home I know
Rock-n-roll's alive 'cause we got the power baby
Crusing down the highway at 500 miles an hour baby
We got a fuel-injected tour bus, man it really flies
With a video tape deck inside
Let's go, rock-n-roll, everybody c'mon
Let's go, rock-n-roll, everybody c'mon now
Touring, touring, is never boring Touring, touring, is never boring Touring, touring, is never boring Touring, touring, oh baby, touring
Especially with your favorite girl Touring, touring, all around the world
Well we've been around this great big world
And we've met all kinds of guys and girls
From Kamoto Islands to Rockaway Beach
No, it's not hard, not far to reach
American girls knock me out, ya know
Fast cars, cold beer, and rock-n-roll
America is the only home I know
Let's go Let's go Let's go Let's go 500 miles to Mexico
Let's go Let's go Let's go Let's go 200 miles to Tokyo
Let's go Let's go Let's go Let's go
Drive, drive, drive the night away
Straight on through to the break of day
Drive, drive, drive the night away
Well, it's in your blood, it's in your blood
Touring, touring, is never boring Touring, touring, is never boring
Touring, touring, is never boring Touring, touring, oh baby, touring
Especially with your favorite girl now
Touring touring, all around the world Touring touring, all around the world
Touring touring, all around the world
...
Wait a second, I had "Rock and Roll High School" playing instead. Oh well, I'm sure I'm not the first to make that mistake.
6:15 p.m.
• So there was some crazy-ass weather to hit the region right as I was leaving the office.
My co-worker advised me to stay in until it cleared up, but my theory was to go now because the traffic would only get worse. Now there was some shitty conditions: heavy rain, high winds, some tornados spotted. However, there are parts of the country that deal with this shit all the time, so even though I was much more alert than I usually am on the drive home from work I wasn’t going OMG I’M SO FRIGHTENED like some callers on the local RIGHT-WING RADIO show were screaming.
Why am I talking about this? Because I’m leading up to my road rage story. OK people, when traffic lights are out and there isn’t anyone directing traffic, TREAT IT LIKE A FOUR-WAY STOP SIGN AND DON’T JUST FUCKING DRIVE THROUGH THE INTERSECTION. There was a three way stop that I just knew was going to be trouble, and this blue-hair just went on through. Had I not prepared for this encounter I would have been t-boned. As I laid my horn on her for the next two blocks, at least I got her to stop at the next down traffic light. Jesus I hate people.
Actually, I was a little concerned because I kept seeing downed trees during my commute. Especially since there are some big trees near my property. However, the storm lost steam when it got to the surrounding counties, which is where I live. Yet another reason why the suburbs rock.
• How funny is this? I live in the Shittburgh area and I ESPN alerts me to local stories. First it was “Jim Rome is Burning” telling me the Pirates got Matt Morris. Now I learned from “Around the Horn” that the Steelers have a mascot.
Steely McMotherfuckingBeam.
Que?
You know, one of the things I liked about the Steelers throughout my life is that they didn’t bother with mascots or cheerleaders. I guess I need something to laugh at after the Pirates stop playing in September and I don’t see the team’s “We Will” slogan for six months. At least the Succo's "Pirate Parrot" is tolerable.
Ha. I forgot about this. Thanks Wikipedia.
3 p.m.
• I heard about this when the story first broke. Sickening.
It's not even worth making some "boy, I hope this child doesn't do hard time but instead gets lots of hugs for killing several members of our society who would have probably gone on to do something useful" remark.
12:30 p.m.
• Ugh. Some asshole called the house at 2:45 a.m., waking up the kkk household. When the answering maching got activiated, my first thought was "who died?" But I'm guessing it was a wrong number because there was no messge and the Caller ID had it listed as a "private call." Bastards. I'm now crashing with two-and-a-half hours to go in my workday. If this would have been at 4:30 a.m., at least I would have been woken up 30 minutes before my alarm goes off anyway. But noooooo, it has to be two-plus hours hours.
11:45 a.m.
• You know, everybody loves the term "Limousine Liberal," but it just doesn't seem to pack the punch it once did. After all, the Left-Wing Elite seems to be wasting more resources now than they ever did, what with their fancy houses and overseas trips. I think a more appropriate term should be "Private Plane Progressive." If Rush uses this line in the future, at least I'll know he reads my blog.
8:45 a.m.
• LOL, on Boortz's local morning show, he just called former senator's Max Cleland's "chief of staff" a "little asshole." Awesome.
8:30 a.m.
• This was the highlight of Boortz's show yesterday, and I knew there would be someone complaining about this segment. I was right. Hilarious.
6:45 p.m.
• Oh no, RACISM~!
Oh fuck, now the invasion is headed to my neck of the woods.
Oh well, at least Al Keiper will be happy, especially when these hard-working invaders take his job of stat-keeping local minor league games for less pay, or at least less hot dogs/nachos/whatever the Scranton Mud Hens pay out. Yes, I know that's not a real team. I already whiffed in my 3 p.m. entry, so why not make up teams while I'm at it?
• Get a job hippies ... and then you can own your holy mecca or whatever.
Oh please let a developer turn this land into a Wal-Mart.
3 p.m.
• So the better half’s boss isn’t that bad a person for an academic idiot. If I had to work with someone with a Ph.D., it would be her boss. However, there are times when I just shake my head and go WTF. Peep these two stories from yesterday.
1) This woman is paying some guy $400 to shop for a Honda Prius. I told Mrs. kkk to let her boss know I’d do it for $375. Hell, for a steady paycheck I’d shop at the hippie organic store for her, too.
2) The better half works for some research project that doesn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things. It’s some funded study that analyzes if sexual behaviors of crackheads are more risky than those that inject heroin, or something equally stupid. Anyway, the boss was freaking out because the amount of crazy people applying for interviews has faded a bit. There’s only so much you can do by posting flyers around town. Now, what would be the obvious solution? To advertise. Personally, I think putting an ad or three in the local city paper (you know, those publications free to the public that have newsstands at the grocery store/theater/street corner/etc. However, when the Mrs. suggested advertising in newspapers and the like her boss said no because then there would be “too many responses.” Well alrighty then.
7:15 a.m.
• So Barry B*nds is now the HOME RUN CHAMP OF THE WORLD~! Whatever. Did he take roids? Yeah. Did other people? Yeah. Is the homer total legit? Sure. I just don't like him. At least he lost in that World Series to the Angles a few years back. Wow, him losing and Racist Dusty in one swoop. That was a good night indeed.
8:30 p.m.
• Ugh. Today was terrible, especially with the humidity. Drive home. Got to vet because Max’s special food was in, even though the day before I was told his brand of kibble doesn’t come in a bag bigger than 6lbs. Wait 10 minutes because said cat food wasn’t coming up on screen and the office’s cashiers are horrid. Drive to Wendy’s for dinner. Idiot kids in line in front of us. I think at least one works there and is hitting on the cashier. Felt the urge to grab a chair from the dining area and sit while waiting for this never-ending order to conclude. Decide on leaving the store instead. Go to Subway. Service was fine, but several high schoolers were cackling in the corner. Well at least I don’t have to be in a classroom teaching them 40 minutes per day, five days per week. Grocery shopping. Not bad. Going home. Not bad. Dealing with the humidity. The suq. Going to work tomorrow. Goodie. Oh well, at least I took Monday off so now it’s midweek for me and my brain still thinks it’s Monday night. Was this really worth typing? Eh, I already did it so what the hell.
3 p.m.
• So I heard the Brady Quinn/Cleveland Browns holdout saga is coming to an end. Now I understand why athlete want to get the most for their money, especially in a place as cutthroat as the NFL. However, I think Quinn should have signed earlier and been content with being paid more like a mid-to-late round selection rather than a Top 5 draftee, especially considering the Browns did what they could to take him later in the first round. I can’t imagine how more embarrassing it could have been for him if that didn’t happen. From what I heard, there was some bickering as to the last year or two and guaranteed money. Hey, if Quinn ends up as anything, I’m sure there will be a lucrative extension in his future, making this half-a-million moot. Yeah, I know all it would take is a freak hit to end his career, but I think he would have done much more for his public image (and endorsement value) if he would have gotten to camp earlier for a little less money than he’ll probably end up getting with this current contract.
Ah, lookie here. He finally did sign.
8 a.m.
• So I came into work today and went to the Dennis Miller Radio Show's web page for my archived listening pleasure. Lo and behold, I now have to pay money to listen to audo archives. Bye-bye.
• Wha-? Shouldn't the instructor have realized his student was on the tipsy side?
• I'm liking the Steelers new head coach Mike Tomlin more and more. I heard a soundbite from him earlier this morning when asked about some player who had a great game against the Saints, which included a 50+ yard gain. Tomlin's response (which was said in a joking manner): the player needed to work on his conditioning more because he looked a little tired out by the end of that run. Good stuff.
8:45 p.m.
• So today was spent away from work because I had eight vacation days to use up by year’s end, and now that number is seven. One thing the better half and I decided to do (since she took off work as well) was to take our second car in for its annual emission/inspection. Now this piece of shit is an ’88 Corsica and my niece and nephew in-laws affectionately call it “crappy the white car.” Seriously, this thing looks like it’s on its last leg (or wheel, as the case may be), but it still moves around with no problem whenever we have to take it out of the garage. Well, we got a call from the auto place that said Crappy needs a lot of work to it. When I heard the estimate I said, “we’ll pick it up.”
Now I know dick when it comes to automobiles, and I make no bones about my lack of knowledge on the subject. When I told Mrs. kkk what they said needed replaced, she was flipping out because she claims Crappy doesn’t have any of those problems. Whatever. We’re going to get her brother, a mechanic, to look Crappy over and take the car to another place for inspection where the standards are so high as the place we took the car prior. (The father-in-law said that the guy who looked over Crappy is new and extremely anal-retentive.) What was pissing the better half off was that she things the mechanic was trying to rip us off because most of the things wrong with Crappy deal with emissions, which this car is exempt from because it was driven less than 5,000 miles in the last year. Now I don’t mind getting ripped off by the mechanic. Sure, charge me an extra $50 for this or replace a widget that didn’t need fixing for $75. I don’t now the difference. I will say this however – I better not have to come back to your business to re-fix the problem. That’s when the trouble will begin and I become an asshole. Otherwise, my theory on this matter is don’t fuck with someone who has easy access to your car’s brake line.
I finally got Mrs. kkk settled down when I told her that at least now we know this mechanic is a likely swindler and that it’s better to know this now than when any big-time work was to be done on the Crappy or the other car in the kkk household (a 2003 Cavalier) and we could have really been taken to the cleaners. Speaking of money, we went out shopping today and while at the mall the better half went into some over-priced shampoo/soap store where she buys that kind of stuff chicks like to get. Problem was nothing was on sale and she left empty-handed. As we were walking she muttered to me, “I can’t believe I went in there and didn’t buy anything because nothing was on sale. See your influence on me?” I couldn’t be more proud. Interesting, I’m a Jew when it comes to 99 percent of financial matters but more than willing to get ripped off at the mechanic’s shop. Call me a hypocrite if you want, but my reasoning for this is while I can shop around for a multitude of items and sales, when it comes to auto trouble I want a place I can trust to get the job done. If that means I pay a few dollars more because they want to replace lug nuts or something, then so be it. I guess I’ve seen too many assholes at car repair shops flipping out over the price of brakes or mufflers. Dude, if you don’t like the price, then do it yourself or take your business elsewhere and let me read my in-store magazine in peace.
While I’m on this subject, I’ve had more than once mechanic compliment me on my manners over the years regarding my patience and understanding with car maintenance. One time my car needed some work done to it (a couple hundred dollars) and the mechanic was literally bracing himself for my sure-to-be angry reaction. I just said, “OK, just do whatever.” He was shocked that I didn’t go, “YOU MEAN TO TELL ME IT’LL COST THAT MUCH!?!? RAWWWWWWWWWR!” Did I get ripped off? I have no idea. But I’ve never had to take the car in to get it fixed since regarding that problem.
10 a.m.
• Even though this story is funny, what with the shirt's message and all, when this bitch goes out and kills someone with her car we'll all be going "OMG WHY WASN'T ANYTHING DONE BEFORE THIS HAPPENED?" Here's a news video regarding this story for those that care.
9 a.m.
• I bet this would have been an intersting sight.
A French rapper supporting a right-wing president? The closest thing I can think of right now as to when this happened in the United States was this with Eazy-E.
• While on the hip-hop subject, I got KRS-One playing in the background. My favorite track on his self-titled album is coming up, which coincidently is the same album that has a song called "Free Mumia." There's some good advice in this verse, even if you don't plan on being a rapper in order to pay the mortgage.
10 p.m.
• So I just got done watching "Crash." Holy shit did that deserve to win an Oscar -- for best comedy. I can't remember another film from recent memory in which I've laughed so hard for so long.
3 p.m.
• About damn time, A-Rod. Now the sports media can talk about when you are going to hit 600~!
• So I’m in the mood to make fun of my employers. In two weeks I will be at another board meeting where I’m sure there will be plenty of bitching about the downward spiral of our organization. Why is my workplace in the shitter? Perhaps this example might shed some light on the subject:
In August of 2006 it was voted on to raise our annuity rates by a half-point in order to generate much-needed business. In addition, it was voted on to start a print advertising campaign to, you know, let people know of this rate increase, which was considerably higher than the rest of the market. My idiot boss was lukewarm to this, claiming outside advertising doesn’t work. Between this time and the next meeting in November I produced about a half-dozen ad concepts and filed them away until the idiot decides to ask for them.
In November of 2006, there is no mention of this ad campaign at the board meeting. In February of 2007, nothing is done at this meeting either.
In May of 2007, it is determined that we cut the annuity rates because they didn’t generate the type of business the powers-that-be had hoped. The idiot boss also tells everybody that the print ad campaign will be done “sometime this summer.” My ads are still lounging in my “stuff the boss will forget about because shiny objects around him are easy distractions” folder.
As of Friday, August 3, there is still no mention of these ads from the powers-that-be.
So, in summary, we raised annuity rates for nearly nine months in hopes of attracting customers. We didn’t advertise these rates and nobody bought them. If any advertising will now be done, it will tout rates that have been reduced and are at par with the rest of the industry and are really not all that spectacular, especially with a stock market at 14,000. (Quick lesson: the better the stock market does, the worse it is for the annuity market and vice versa.) This will then make the idiot boss say, “See? outside advertising does not work. Just like I told you all before.”
Did I forget mention that at the August 2006 meeting it was determined the theme of these ads were to pimp our increased annuity rates?
Like I’ve said before, there’s something charming about watching this kind of behavior – in a train wreck sort of way. Now you might ask, “How come you didn’t show your boss the ads you created nearly a year ago?” Because when you deal with people this incompetent, the best thing to do is step away, keep your mouth shut and avoid them whenever possible. If you get too close to a tar pit, then you’ll be dragged in as well. Trust me on this one.
10:30 a.m.
• So I had to go with the better half to some annual church bazaar and had to play Bingo for 90 minutes. Actually, I don’t mind Bingo. It’s rather fun to piss off Mrs. kkk by flipping those chip-things around and hear all the old people bitch about not being able to hear the numbers called out. In fact, last night’s outing was downright awesome because the Bingo caller’s kid was helping call out numbers. Did I mention the kid has Downs. Do I need to say any more? Wow, were there a number of angry blue-hairs. Please note I’m not giddy the kid has Downs. Rather, it was hilarious to watch so many people try to understand what she was calling out when her dad would call out the same number a few seconds later.
3 p.m.
• So yesterday I heard Pat McEnroe and J.A. Adande subbing in on PTI. Wasn't impressed. Not so much at J.A., but Pat was trying way too hard and coming up way too short. It felt like J.A. was just collateral damage.
• And this is why I don't bother to read fiction ... real life is so much better. Love the last paragraph. (Note: This article is a few months old.)
8:15 p.m.
• There’s nothing like writing a cover letter while playing Body Count’s “Mama’s Gotta Die Tonight.” I’m a bit pissed with myself because several years ago I composed a kick-ass cover letter that I forgot to save and now can’t find the damn thing. Then again, the best that cover letter could do was land me where I am no, so why am I thinking it was any good? To make matters worse, I can’t really remember what I wrote and haven’t felt motivated to compose a new piece of literary excellence. Then I remember that in a little more than a year from now my one idiot boss will become my workplace’s idiot top guy in charge. Time to start typing.
No.
Nah.
Fuck no.
Oh hell yeah. Time to let the words flow.
6:30 p.m.
• So on Jim Rome's TV show today he was goofing on the Pirates for taking Matt Morris in a trade. We did? OK. Rome pretty much goofed on the Bucs for taking someone who gets paid a shitload of money. Just how much does he make?
Wow, that's sure a lot of money, especially for the Pirates. But I bet this Morris guy is really good.
Uh...
• And the Pirates were also a topic on "Around the Horn." Some player threw his bat 30 rows into the stands, or something like that. Daily double, baby.
• While I'm on the subject of ESPN, if anyone else watched yesterday's NFL Live, did Bonnie Bernstein really say Jerry Jones has just two Super Bowl wins during his Cowboys ownership tenure?
2 p.m.
• And now it's time for the Dr. Laura Call of the Day (or whenever I feel like doing this). Erica is getting married to a guy who has already been married three times. After Dr. Laura yells at her for picking someone who already has three strikes, she asks the 33-year-old Erica if she has her tubes tied. Erica says that the lesser half is fixed, adding that she wouldn't want any kids because this guy is physically abusive. I have no idea what Erica is blubbering about now; something about how she can't find anyone better. God it must be great to have a spouse you can just beat on and control.
1 p.m.
• Since in the last few days we got to see what a commie Al Keiper is, I figured he would be in attendance for this night at the ballpark.
How insensitive. A team actually WON the game? I hope everyone at least got trophies when the teams went out for ice cream afterward.
10:45 a.m.
• A day or so ago I talked about this caller to Boortz who always relates everything to pot. I didn't know his name. He's on the air now: Dave from Montana. Right now he's talking about Boortz visiting the President yesterday and how it's not fair he doesn't get to visit the POTUS. Now he's talking about the border agents who are in jail that shot the Mexican drug dealer. Here it is ... if pot was legal, they officers wouldn't be in jail. Gotta love Dave.
7 a.m.
• So there is this mama deer and two fawns that hang out by the hillside next to where I work. I oftentimes see the fawns romping around, grazing and not bothering anyone, and it gives me a chance to zone out for a few minutes (not like I would anyway even without the outside entertainment). This morning I parked my car and saw the two fawns close to the road. A little too close. I tried shooing them away because, unlike many of my conservative brethren, I don’t get the whole killing animals for sport thing. I mean, that’s why we have black people, right? Anyway, I was also scanning around looking for the mama deer because I’ve heard stories of these animals freaking out whenever they think their babies are in danger. Considering I was carrying a lunch cooler, my briefcase/portfolio thingy and a gallon of green tea, I would be in some serious trouble if Mrs. Deer decided to give me a few hooves to the head. As I watched these two innocent animals graze, they looked up at me from time to time, and then I saw mama deer at the top of the hill. She would look at me every now and then but it seemed she was leaving her babies alone. As I started walking to my office, one of the fawns began following me. Across the street. Ugh. GET OFF THE STREET YOU STUPID ANIMAL! Fortunately, a car came by and spooked the fawns up the hill. However, for a brief second, from my line of sight, it looked like the car was gong to hit the fawn head-on. It wasn’t until after the car passed that I realized the fawn had gotten back on the grass. Jesus, how hard can it be to survive when your only necessity is to STAY ON THE GRASS?
kkk's Top 103 Posters
Number 15: Slayer
This poster really kills me. Get it? Kills me. Slayer. And who says I’ve given up on this countdown? Anyway, I’d have to say that Slayer is probably one of the truest libertarians at this place. He’s got enough common sense to stay away from liberal craziness, but at the same time he shakes his head whenever his red state of Kansas acts like … well, a red state. Actually, Slayer frequents this place much in the same way I do – get in a thread, say your one-liner, queer up the place and get out. He, naturally, does this much better than I do, which is why I guess he always goes way deeper than me in those poster tournaments. Then again, maybe he just steals vote counts like the Bush War Machine did in 2000 and 2004. Oh INXS, how I’ve missed your lunacy.
7 p.m.
• So Shittsburgh has a little mini-crisis of its own due to the Michael Vick case. No, Willie Parker doesn't have any cockfighting rings in his house, unlike Kordell Stewart ... ba-da-bing! Anyway, I could tell you the story, but why bother when I can get someone else to do it for me.
It's a really sad day when a person gets invited onto an OPINION show, tells the actual truth of the situation and gets hounded by two media outlets, one of which is him employer. Is it any surprise that the Post-Gazette is a steaming pile of liberal PC shit? Paul Zeise can post a comment on KK' Korner any time he wants. I mean, it's not like he's nl-asshole or anything.
• You know, every time I watch Star Wars, I get more questions than answers. For example, how does Lando run a mining business when he's up there in the clouds? I think the fact I don't know this makes me glad because it shows what level of Star Wars geekdom I'm at.
• Normally I'd say something like "OMG ur tAx dollarz @ wurk!" over something like this.
But then I got to the next paragraph.
8:30 p.m.
• So the better half returned the call of the matriarch of the test-tube welfare family and guess what Mrs. kkk was asked? If that abandoned house across the street from us was on the market.
Oh hell no.
Long story short. Many moons ago, the people who lived in that house died. The family of the deceased never wanted to sell it; however, they never bothered to keep up with maintenance. From what I heard, the furniture and shit is still in there. I’m sure it wouldn’t be a bad little house, but it’s going to need a good deal of work. That being said, there’s not fucking way I want those people living across the street from me. Mrs. Test Tube told the better half that she wants to move from the shithole of a house they bought two years ago and live somewhere in our school district, which is better than the one she’s at now. OK, if you wanted to live in a certain school district, when you already had two kids popped out from your snatch, WHY DID YOU PEOPLE BUY A HOUSE IN A DIFFERENT SCHOOL DISTRICT?!?! Jesus tap dancing Christ are these people pathetic. What’s funny is that if any houses are selling on my street they will be going for at least twice the amount of the house the test-tube welfare family currently live in – and these people can’t even keep up with their $300/month mortgage as-is. Not only that, but they will now have to sell the piece-of-shit house they are currently living in, and I bet they’ll be lucky to find a buyer, let alone try to break even on the sale. I swear to Christ I can’t stay around these people for more than five minutes without the urge to take a brick to the side of their collective heads.
2:30 p.m.
• So Drudge had the following link headline to an article about Chief Justice John Roberts' fall:
Now is the foam from his fall or because the High Court is going to be taking up some more affirmative action/gay marriage/abortion cases?
• So I've been hearing about this for a while now and just had to post this hilarity. You may have seen these ads pimping some government health-care program for "the children" called SCHIP (pronounced "chip" whenever I hear it).
Oh, no. And this from the state of DICK CHENEY~! How could anybody be against giving "the children" health-care coverage?
So does this mean if a 22-year old SCHIP recipient kills someone they could be tried as a youth?
1 p.m.
• And now it’s time for the Dr. Laura Call of the Day (or whenever I feel like doing this). Well, it’s not really the call per se, but rather the flashback I got when hearing this guy ask if he did the right thing. Long story short: His aunt is a mega-bitch and neither he nor his soon-to-be better half talk to her. There was some other history, too, but I wasn’t paying that close attention. They decided not to invite the aunt. This pissed off the guy’s mom, who said she no longer wants to be part of the wedding party and does not want to be introduced as his mother. The guy said “OK.” He wanted to know if he was in the right. Both Dr. Laura and I agree that he was. However, what inspired me to write this couple of hundred words was that when it came time for my wedding RSVP guest cards to come trickling in two years ago, I was hoping for quite a few people to say they couldn’t make my special day where the chain around my ankle gets clamped down for good. This way, I had an reason never to deal with them again for the rest of my life. That’s why I don’t visit the test-tube welfare family that I’ve talked about in the past here. However, I still have to attend that Memorial Day outing because that aunt showed up. Sonofabitch. Oh well, at least I have an excuse to ignore my two cousins from my idiot mother’s side for my remaining days. Woo-hoo!
10 a.m.
• Just heard on the radio that Robin Roberts has breast cancer. I remember watching her and Bob Ley on ESPN's Sunday SportsCenter back in the early 1990s. She's moved onto a network morning anchoring gig, and, although she's a commie and part of the mainstreamliberalpress, I always had a soft spot for her when thinking back to my formative years and remembering her talk about the day's sports headlines. Thank God she doesn't have to talk about "Who's Now" or any of that other shit going on now at that place. The first thing that comes to mind when hearing Roberts' name is this annual report ESPN does every year about some college football player crippling some other player in the South and how the one athlete visits the other's grave each year. At the end of this report, Roberts was trying to hold back her tears, and was doing a poor job at it. Nothing to be ashamed over. The radio update said the cancer was detected early, so you go, girlfriend.
8:15 a.m.
• So I'm listening to Monday's Dennis Miller radio show, and at the end of the first hour this caller Bob from New York is calling Dennis a puppet for the RIGHT-WING and that he's getting paid by the usual suspects, etc. Dennis asks him why he's so angry, and Bob just starts bitching with the usual you-get-paid-by-Bush talking points. Bob calls again during the second hour and says Dennis can't tell how anyone can be "angry" by just a phone call, or something like that.
"I'm going to suggest, Dennis, that you do not have the abilty to infer how angry I or anybody is from the words they say..."
"Bob, bye-bye. You're the first caller I cut off in four months. You know why? You're an idiot. Don't call back."
Funny stuff.
