4:30 p.m.
• So my ex-workplace had its May quarterly board meeting, and I found out from the people I still keep in touch with over there something interesting. It is now taking six people to do my job.
One person to actually step in to my job title.
My idiot boss who is showing the above person how to operate Quark, something she said she was proficient in during her interview. My one ex-coworker told me that when she started she asked why you had to make a box for everything. (Quark users will get the joke.) Oh, and she doesn't know how do do any of the other office software she insisted she knew.
Two people to do data-entry/editing work.
One person to do special projects.
One person to work on the web site. I should point out that the only thing which has been updated in the past four months is a link on the front page taken down that directed someone to the site’s latest updates. Seeing there hasn’t been an update since January 18, I find it odd that they would remove this.
I could be greedy and add another person to stuff envelopes, but I’m sure that could be delegated to the three people doing data entry/editing/special projects. Oh, and did I mention this person gets almost one-third more money starting out than what I did? (Hell, she makes more now than I did after 4+ years.) I’m not going to hate on her for that – in fact, I say good job. When it comes to money, you’re only paid as much as you can get. Actually, the one thing about my old job I didn’t really bitch about was the pay. I figure if I wanted more I’d go somewhere else. What did piss me off though was the extra job duties heaved onto me without any additional compensation. When you start a job and your extra responsibilities start becoming more important than the reason you were hired in the first place, then you’ve got problems.
But like I said above, good job on my recent replacement. After all, she was able to get money out of the same place that would constantly try to Jew me out of work I put down on my time card, sometimes as little as 15 minutes.
She was able to get money out of the same place that wouldn’t pay a part-time assistant more than $8/hour after downsizing the previous full-time assistant job, which was more than $12/hour plus benefits. (I am now told by my deep throat that getting a full-time assistant for my replacement is of the “utmost importance.” Actually, it’s been of the “utmost importance” for over a month.)
She was able to get money out of the same place that had everyone CARPOOL to this most recent meeting. This is the same place that has its staff stuff envelopes rather than invest in an envelope-stuffing machine.
But the best part of this meeting? I found out from my deep throat how much she makes, so I got a few people to ask about the new hire’s salary at the meeting. What did my idiot bosses do? They said they “can’t recall” how much she makes. This coming from the same place that … well, you get the idea. Actually, in our most recent company publication, my one idiot ex-boss was bragging about how office expenses were down by THREE ONE-HUNDREDTHS OF A PERCENTAGE POINT while the annual cost of something-or-other went up by 4.3 percent. Of course, in the next paragraph, he mentions that due to an “unusually high” death-ratio-index, the company had to dip into its surplus for the last fiscal year. Yeah, “unusually high.” Too bad all our clients are old and getting older. That “unusually high” is going to turn into “normal” soon enough. But hey, we saved THREE ONE-HUNDREDTHS OF A PERCENTAGE POINT because we wouldn’t pay a part-time assistant more than $8/hour and spent more than 4 months replacing an office worker who died. The more and more I’m away from this place, the more and more I’m enjoying watching its decay from within.
8:30 p.m.
• Uh oh. I bet he's a Bush man.
• Sixteen years later and this song still gives me chills. Damn good stuff. And not one "shizzle" or "bling" reference (or whatever the hell is being used now).
If you stuck around at the 1:50 mark, you would have heard the following line:
Now who used that line as the key sample for his song?
Yep.
• Speaking of Shaq Daddy raps. And how long did they take to remake this track -- 3 minutes?
10 p.m.
• Yet another reason why the better half and I better not produce any children (besides the hundreds of other reasons that go something like, “I’m too lazy to be a parent,” “I’d rather spend money on myelf” and “I hate children.”
Yesterday morning the alarm went off and I proceeded to trudge off to the bathroom for my daily shower. We feed the kids early in the morning and before we go to bed at night, so they’ve picked up when feeding time is and when I get up at 6:15 a.m. they start milling around; either that or they directly hop onto Mrs. kkk and start meowing in her face. Well, this morning Max was following me into the bathroom and started hanging out around the toilet. Weired. Before we got a drinking fountain for the three of them, Max would stand around the toilet when he wanted “fresh” running water. I thought nothing of this. As I take my morning shower, the better half feeds Max, Dessa and JJ. Well this morning I guess Max wasn’t eating, which prompted her to be in near-hysterics and telling me he wasn’t eating his dry food. Uh, OK. Now we’ve had some problems with his pee-hole being clogged, but he only lost his appetite when this condition got severe, and he displayed no evidence of having strained litterbox activity. When I got out of the shower I looked into their feeding room and saw that Max was going to town on the water fountain. I asked Mrs. kkk if she gave them fresh water. She said yes. After a while when Max was finished I gave him some of his food, which he ate. I pointed this out to the better half, but she still said she was still “worried.” OK. Well, the special food we buy the three of them contains no filler, so the vet told us that it’s common for them to not eat everything we give them. Going about my Friday morning routine, which included taking any full garbage bags downstairs through the basement and garage and out to the curb. That’s when I figured out why Max probably wasn’t hungry.
There was cat vomit all over the basement floor. But it wasn’t food-related. It was from a nasty hairball (or three) that he must have thrown up last night. Makes sense, considering one of his toys that he usually plays with was nearby. I pointed this out to the better half and let her know that my guess as to last night’s events were as follows:
1) With the warm weather, Max is shedding like a fiend.
2) Max threw up some hairballs and instead of eating he wanted to drink fresh water to get the taste/any irritation out of his system.
Even though he ate after I fed him, he didn’t eat his entire quarter-cup of food, which still prompted the better half to spend the whole day fretting. Of course, at 7:30 p.m. that evening Max began following Mrs. kkk around the house, trying to guide her to their feeding room for an early supper. Oh, and he cleaned his bowl once they all got feed. I asked her afterward, “You still worried, psycho?” Christ, if kkk Jr. ever springs from her loins, that kid will be lucky to be out of his protective bubble for longer than two minutes.
• So one of the better half's friends works at a day care center. Actually, her dad owns the place, however, he pays his daughter about $15k to run it, and by run it I mean oversee just about every responsibility out there. On top of that he charges her rent to live in the basement of his house. I love this man. Anyway, Mrs. kkk just told me that every year her friend holds a PRESCHOOL GRADUATION CEREMONY for the little brats in her center. A PRESCHOOL GRADUATION CEREMONY. I'm not sure if this includes the ol' cap and gown, but in this day and age who the hell knows. Anyway, a big brouhaha by the parents took place when it was revealed that each kid was only allowed three tickets. I don't know what's worse: PRESCHOOLERS having a GRADUATION CEREMONY, or parents pissed off because they can only have three people attend this thing. Believe it or not, I actually have a memory of my PRESCHOOL GRADUATION CEREMONY. What did I do? My mom picked me up and I was driven home. Another memory I have is taking some kid's coloring picture and scribbling it up. One of the teachers saw me do this, yelled at me and when I took my coloring picture up to show her she said that she didn't like it. I think my preschool had naptime, but all I remember is laying on the floor.
• I was just flipping through the channels and came across one of the 20 Jesus channels on my cable lineup. Normally I just skip over these stations, but for the brief moment this station was on my television I saw the words, "Mike Sweeny." Mike Sweeny of the Kansas City Royals? I put the clicker down. There's this hippie interview show with some friar interviewing Sweeny. Good lord is this guy a Jesus freak. The most memorable experience of his life was his high school confirmation weekend retreat where he found Jesus Christ? Oh man. HA -- he just said that his high school team won the state championship because they prayed together, and teams that pray together win together. I'll take this time out now to let you make your own joke about his team's current situation.
• Once a week the better half and I go grocery shopping. Now many of you know that if I don't have a coupon for something and it's not on sale, then I don't get it. Mrs. kkk, on the other hand, has no sense of fiscal responsibility, which explains why she's up to her eyeballs in debt. Anyway, she was called in to her second job at the pizza place on the day we normally shop for groceries, which left me in charge. I swear to Christ I'm as bad as a valley girl at the mall when it comes to grocery shopping by myself. To top it off, chicken and steaks were buy one get one free this week. After much coupon selecting and sale item pricing, my $131.86 bill went down to $70.15. Score one for the cheapskate this round.
• Instead of shooting them, shouldn’t we be encouraging these people to get out of the United States? Either way, I think the Mexican goverment should be concerned with the way they treat their guests south of the border before telling us what to do with ours.
• Only community services? These people should be dragged out and shot for what they did. Oh, and my favorite part of the story is in bold, especially since one night back when we were living in Ohio JJ got outside at 2 a.m. when I went to put a letter in the nearby mailbox (don't ask) and the better half found him the next morning by the backdoor crying – I’m surprised he even figured that much out.
Don't fuck with a cat that has "Mr." in his name.
8 p.m.
• So in the mornings on the way to work, the better half no longer lets me listen to the local RIGHT-WING RADIO guy. It’s not that she hates the host, it’s because she HATES the female co-host. What do we listen to instead? ESPN’s Mike and Mike in the Morning. Why? Because their voices “relax her.” Whatever. Now generally I can tolerate these two, but today they were getting on my last nerve. I guess this weekend is inter-league play for Major League Baseball. In fact, it’s RIVALRY WEEKEND. Whatever. These two dolts on the radio were rating each of these MLB RIVALRIES. Uh, guys, just because two teams play in the same city/state and in different leagues does not a rivalry make. The Indians and Reds are NOT a rivalry. The Cubs and Cardinals are. The Devil Rays and Marlins are NOT a rivalry. The Yankees and Red Sox are. I can’t stand it when the media try to manufacture hype with this inter-league shit.
The other thing that got on my nerves this morning was the talk about Kyle Farnsworth talking about Roger Clemens’ “family friendly” work schedule.
This of course got the Mikes’ panties in a wad. How DARE someone actually give their opinion. If Farnsworth would have said, “It doesn’t matter because we’re all a team, not I’m going to go out there and give my 110 percent,” these sportscasters would be bitching about how everybody’s afraid to speak their mind. It’s not like Farnsworth said he’s going to beat up the Rocket for getting a deal that any starting pitcher would take in a heartbeat. I understand the whole “don’t talk bad about your teammates” rule, but it’s not like Farnsworth is on the Giants and told a radio host that Bonds is a roided-up freak. Talk about making something out of nothing.
• Honestly, who really gives a shit?
And if only we used more stem cells, I bet Honest Abe could have leaped tall buildings in a single bound.
• Well no kidding.
Of course there’s the ol’ double standard. Is this really a surprise? However, the next sentence got a laugh out of me.
So white supremacists are “mainstream conservatives”? OMG AP LIBERAL BIAS~! Yeah, I know the comma separates the rednecks from the Neocons, but so what. Oh, and peep the crime and read the bullshit in the last paragraph of this article.
How exactly can you tell if this was a HATE CRIME or not? Would these two victims have to have "cracker" carved into them or something?
• I love so-called experts on television. Sure the political ones are stupid because every little thing that happens in Washington, D.C., spells DOOM for one group of politicians and VICTORY for the other group of politicians. And what a shock: usually, it’s the party that the taking head is affiliated with that can do no wrong. The only thing worse than these nimrods are the sports “experts.” I remember a week or so ago when the New Jersey Nets beat the Miami Heat in Game 1 of the NBA Eastern Conference Semi-Finals that it was gloom and doom for the Heat. Even when Miami won Game 2 it didn’t matter because New Jersey now had the HOME COURT ADVANTAGE. So what did Miami do after this Game 1 loss? They proceeded to win the next four, beating the Nets in five games.
• Speaking of basketball, this is a weird postseason for me. I’m not really a “fan” of a team in any league, but once the playoffs start I’ll tune in and cheer for one or two teams. If they lose, it’s no big deal, and if they win, yay, I guess. For example, back in the 2002 MLB playoffs I was pulling for the California/Anaheim/Whatever-They-Were-Called-Back-Then Angels. There was no real reason for this; I just liked their team and some of the players. If they had lost to whoever they played (Bored, Alkeiper, help me out there) I would have found some way to go on. However, I must say that when the World Series started I was really pulling for the Angels, but that was because I didn’t want Barry Bonds to win a ring, along with Racist Dusty getting another championship under his belt. Oh, yeah. And I laughed at the end of Game 7 when Racist Dusty’s brat was crying after his dad lost the big game. Anyway, this year I’m in a bit of a pickle because I don’t know who I want to win in the NBA playoffs. I like the Pistons as a team, but I’m also a LeBron James fan. I also have no reason to hate the Shaq/Wade tandem, too. Over in the West I’ve pulled for the Spurs over the last few years, but also I think it’d be nice to see the Mavs or Suns to finally make to the Finals. Who should I pull for this year? I have no idea. Oh, and in the NHL I've been pulling for the Oilers since they went up on Detroit in the first round and the Hurricanes since the second round.
• Here is some more post-election stuff. Although nothing too exciting happened in my district, a few bigwigs in the Republican Party got beat in some of the more conservative sections of the state. Good. If you’re a member of a political party, you should focus more on your party’s primary rather than the general election. I can hear it now, “OMG you’re a Party hack!” Yeah, so what? Look, I may not like Arlen Specter as my U.S. Senator, but who am I going to vote for: a Liberal Republican or a Liberal, period? If I want a Republican out of office, I’ll get it done in the primary election; I’m not going to vote for someone I feel would be even worse in the general election. Now that’s not to say I will always vote Republican for Congress or President, but I doubt I’ll be voting Democrat anytime soon when it comes to the National level.
• You know what? In a normal world this would probably be worthy of my scorn, but fuck it; I salute you, sir. If you bitches want to protest outside of Augusta National come Master’s time because it’s an all-male club then no free baseball gloves or reduced drinks for you. Here’s a note to you feminazis: Not everything should be open to both sexes. You think a guy wants to hear his nagging wife or some other broad when he’s out on the golf course? Even though I’m not a golfer, I can imagine what playing 18 holes would be like when you’re being badgered each time you try to make a putt. “Why didn’t you do the dishes?” “Did you take the dog out for a walk?” “Do you know what your son did today?” “Oh no, I broke a nail with that chip shot!” To Augusta I say don’t budge an inch.
4 p.m.
• So today the better half and I went to the bank to open up a savings account. After Mrs. kkk’s credit cards got paid off, I said we were going to have an initial rainy day fund that would eventually be turned into a savings account. This would happen once we got to a specific figure in our checking account. Well this past month we met that figure, so it was time to move that money to a savings account. This of course meant it was time to go to the bank and watch the bank person react in surprise when they find out how much money we have in our account. This happened when I first moved back to Pennsylvania in 2003 and opened up an account. This also happened earlier this year when I went to get a debit card for my account. And just to show that I wasn’t crazy about the surprised facial contortions, I asked the better half to watch for such a reaction. The best part came when the banker asked, “Well do you know what account you would like to open?” After I said what account would work best for us, she spent a few minutes looking at her notes and said, “That’s right. You have enough to get into the higher-tier interest rate!” Pft. Like it matters. Now the plan is to keep the checking account at the amount we predetermined and any extra money left over in that account at the end of the month will be spent paying off my school loan. I figure that should take a few months, and then it will be onto the next task at hand.
• I just realized that the postage rate went up yet again. I knew it was going to increase, but I wasn’t sure when. It must be nice to run an industry where you don’t have to worry about your competition setting prices lower than yours. But I digress. I discovered a reason to keep pennies – to get 1-cent stamps. Earlier this year at Sam’s Club trip we got a 100-roll of stamps. How many stamps do we have left? 68. How many 1-cent stamps did I get today? 68. How many pennies did I use? 68. Unrolled. Hey, if they want to raise postage rates by a penny, then they should expect a similar brand of currency. Actually, it wasn’t that tense a transaction. Here’s what I hate most about the post office. No matter who’s in front of me in line, it takes 5-10 minutes (at least) to complete their order. When I step up, it takes a minute – two tops. Then again, I don’t stand there and carefully pick out the design of stamps I want to purchase. Goddamn I hate old people.
9 p.m.
• Well, here comes the invasion.
Oh who the hell am I kidding? They are already here. And these next two sentences from this next snippet make me feel soooo much better.
I expect Democrats to endorse this attack on America, but any Republican which agrees to this deserves to be booted out of office. (And don't even get me started on W.) I wonder what party these Mexicans will register with? Bye-bye, GOP. Then again, I shouldn't be so doom-and-gloom. You think any illegal is going to agree to this?
6 p.m.
• Looks like the Titans are interested in Keyshawn Johnson.
Good for him. Part of me felt bad for him when his replacement was drafted (I have no idea what his name is at this moment) and he had to sit there and go, “Boy I can’t wait to mentor this guy.” I wonder if he knew his Carolina stint was at an end there and was just playing for the camera?
1:30 p.m.
• One of the biggest stories of the NBA Playoffs, besides the Mavs losing in the first round, involves the recent pesudo beanch clearing that took place in Game 4 of the Suns/Spurs series. For those that don't know what happened, here you go:
The Spurs won Game 5 and are now up 3-2 in the series. I've heard several sports people comment on this, and from all perspectives.
"Rules are rules."
"Spurs play dirty. If Bruce Bowen would have been suspended for trying to hurt Stoudemire the Suns wouldn't have been on edge like they were."
I think I'm falling in the "If you don't change the rule, then you must enforce it" group. Over the last decade or so, the NBA has had to deal with bench-clearing fights, and I guess this rule of not leaving the bench is supposed to fight against this. However, when your team's franchise player is rammed into the scorer's table, I would certainly hope his teammates would respond by heading over there rather than just sitting there going, "Ohhh, look at all the pretty lights." It seems like this rule should be subject to interpretation, but from what I read it's not. So oh well. Maybe if Stoudemire hated Nash he wouldn't have cared that he got assaulted. Damn you for giving a shit about your teammates. I am hoping Phoenix wins the next two games, though.
7 a.m.
• So I was watching the TNT halftime show between the Cavs and Nets, and Ernie Johnson's family was in the studio. I guess his son has some sort of condition due to the fact he was wheelchair-bound and all that. No, I'm not going to crack on his kid or make some retard jokes. Instead, I LOL'd when Ernie said that his son's wheelchair was "tricked out" courtesy of some business/person whose name escapes me. Now that's one kick-ass dad...
...except for, of course, giving his son the retard gene.
And I was so close.
And some people think I have no social skills. Yesterday afternoon after work I drove to the emergency vet place to pick up Max, who was rushed there Sunday. When I got there I sat down and waited for them to check Max out. Now I normally don’t have good experiences at vet places when it comes to speedy service. But then again, if my cat was in trouble, I wouldn’t want some putz bitching at the front desk telling the vets to hurry it up and wait on him and his dog Fluffy. Anyway, I sat down at one end of the waiting room, and this lady was at the other end holding her kitty. Everything was fine and dandy for about 10-15 minutes, and then the ghetto family showed up with “Coco,” which was some poor dog who got stuck living with this group of misfits. Now it’s no secret that I hate children, and this bunch had four of them. However, as long as the brats are well behaved, I can tolerate their presence, let alone existence. The problem was that these pieces of mini-trash were screaming, running around and causing an overall disturbance. Did the parents try to calm these heathens down? Of course not. Did they try to get them to settle down and read to them one of the magazines that were nearby? Nope – I have doubts that the adults in this mob knew how to read. After at least 15 minutes of this the one receptionist told me that there was an emergency in the back and the vets couldn’t finalize the paperwork to give Max back to me. “No problem,” I replied. I then asked for a pen and piece of paper. I then scribbled down the following: “It’s a shame we have to carry our pets in carriers wherever we go, but yet children are allowed to roam free.” A few minutes later when the receptionist wasn’t answering the phone or talking to customers, I slipped her my note. She burst out laughing and had to run in the back and try to get some control over herself. After a few minutes, more laughter from different people was heard in the back office and when she returned to her desk she nodded toward me and said, “So true.”
After dropping Max off at home, I went out to vote. Now I said earlier that Pennsylvania recently got rid of its old voting machines in favor of computerized screens. When I went into the polling station, I got ready for another ribbing over my party affiliation. The last time I voted in the primary season, the volunteers, who are mostly Democrats, do their best to make me feel at home. One example of this hospitality is when they scream to each other across the room, “We have a Republican here!” Today was no exception as I signed my name to the register book. There was one old lady working there who was a Republican, and I know this because the grumpy old man at this place said “He’s your kind, so you show him how these machines work.” After being shown the ins and outs of these devices and entering my votes (Santorum, Swann, and some local school board people) I was walking toward the exit and told her that I thought these machines were unnecessary and frivolous. She agreed with me and then I remarked, “Hopefully it’ll make many of the Democrat voters think they’re voting for Rendell or Casey when they’re actually voting for Pat Buchanan; we need all the help we can get this year.” That line didn’t go over well with the rest of the poll workers there, but that’s just what makes saying stuff like this more fun. As I left the station, I met some young guy who was running for State Representative on the Independent ticket and was looking for signatures. I put my signature down for him and we talked a bit. Even if I don’t support a candidate or referendum, I’ll still put my name down for them if asked. My opinion is that even though I don’t agree with the issue/person I think they have a right to be voted on by the public. My only exception to this rule would be if the measure I’m being asked to sign always got voted down in the general election. For example, if I got approached to sign some paper to support getting a measure on an election ballot that would make gay marriage legal, I’d sign. And when the voters by a margin of 80 percent to 20 percent shoot down the measure, I’ll laugh. Now if these same hippies still tried getting this stupid idea on the ballot for the next 10 years, then I’ll refuse to sign their signature sheet. You lost, get over it. Do what every good activist does – get a red diaper doper baby to make it whatever lamebrain idea they want to impose on an unsuspecting public legal.
9:30 p.m.
• You know, it's not the actual story that caught my eye.
A 4-3 opinion over a hot-button topic whose final decision favors the liberal side of the debate. Odd how there's no mention of a "splintered" or "divided" court decision, although we learn that this court is REPUBLICAN-DOMINATED (whatever the hell that means in California).
Yet a while back I posted this story, also published by the Associated Press...
Wait a second, I was about to do a "how come one case is divided and the other case is splintered," but then I decided to actually, you know, LOOK UP the word in question.
Fudgesicles. Damn you liberal media.
10 p.m.
• So earlier this week I was at Target picking up the better half’s birth control pills when the lady in front of me asked around as to when the new Indiana Jones movie is coming out. Since nobody else knew, I decided to end the awkward silence by saying “May 22.” She then got as giddy as this chick at the grocery store…
…but I digress.
After she picked up her prescription and paid for that and her Indiana Jones DVD set, I shook my head, which prompted the one pharmacist to ask, “What’s wrong?” The following conversation took place. You’ll figure out who is who.
“No self-respecting Indiana Jones fan will look forward to this.”
“Why? I heard it was going to be good.”
“No, it won’t.”
“I have some friends who are in film school and they said the special effects and action will be great.”
“No, it won’t.”
“Why do you think that?”
“They should have stopped with ‘The Last Crusade.’”
“Why?”
“Because it was the perfect ending. Indiana riding off with his father, Sallah and Brody into the sunset. Connery won’t be in this one. Neither will Sallah. And Brody’s dead. Everything in that last scene in ‘The Last Crusade’ has just been wiped away.”
“So you’re not going to see it in the theater.”
“No, but I’ll probably get it on DVD.”
“Why?”
“Because, whether I like it or not, it’s INDIANA JONES.”
*Sigh* I feel the same way about the Star Wars prequels.
Wow, I point out my inability to understand the English language and show how much of a sucker I am with movie franchises just as old as me – all in one entry. I need to inject myself with some manliness. That last line isn’t helping my case much, either...
PUNKS JUMP UP TO GET BEAT DOWN (without using naughty words)
PUNKS JUMP UP TO GET BEAT DOWN (thug lyricz)
You know, for a song that has the line:
I find it funny that the following is also included in this track…
…
Wait a second:
Uhhh, that’s not the correct line, Lyrics Freak.
What the hell?
Lyrics Depot
MP3 Lyrics
STL Lyrics
E Lyrics,
Complete Album Lyrics
Lyrics on Demand
Lyrics Time
Thank you Metro Lyrics. Finally, someone gets the line right.
No, I'm not repeating an entry I made last year. In that post I was remarking on the "Give strong blows to the heads of my foes," line, not the "dick in ya ass" line. With this entry, I'm also pointing out that I may not know what "splintered" means, but I can remember a song's line about anal sex from 16 years ago.
...
God what the hell is wrong with me?
Hmm, interesting take on the YouTube comment section:
That's actually a valid point. Maybe Sadat was a late bloomer.
7:30 p.m.
• Well, that hippie library is still going to be around…
But fuck you Fast Eddie.
You think we’re that fucking dumb? This state may vote Democrat more times than not, but my fellow Keystone Staters aren’t retarded … or at least as much as other blue states. Tax shift? Yeah, right. More like “added tax.” You’ve been talking about slot-machine revenue gambling longer than W. has had troops in Iraq. This slots-for-property-tax idea has been an abortion since the start, and if you’re going to want to screw us over, then you’re going to have to force the sodomy. What, you expect me to fuck my own browneye?
Oh, but the real reason we didn’t vote for it was because we’re too stupid.
Although the line "The questions were not asked in Philadelphia, Pittsburgh and Scranton, where wage taxes are already comparatively high," made me LOL. (Scranton?) This part of the article cracked me up the most.
So even senior citizens voted against this? And in Pennsylvania, the old people control EVERYTHING, what with their en masse journey to the polls. And even though they keep dying off, there are plenty of near-blue hairs in this commonwealth to keep the Access vans busy to and from the local fire halls on Election Day.
• Back to local elections. God I love my town.
The sad thing is, when it comes to these local races, those stupid signs probably do make a difference in an election or two.
• Oh, yeah. Jerry Falwell died. I waited a few days to see what my other bloggers had to say. Wasn’t surprised. The commie goes "good riddence," and the right-winger says the extreme Left will go “see you in hell, Jerry” and all the usual stuff from the ideology of diversity and tolerance. I waited to post this because anything I say will be, as usual, so brilliant that nothing else will need to be said I’m lazy. I’m undecided as to which take I should use. Do I go with…
A) Falwell died? Wow, he must have taken Rudy Giuliani’s early presidential campaigning success hard.
or
B) Falwell died? Well, for his sake I hope all Jesus did with his disciples was preach the word of God and didn’t play a game of pitch or catch when the sun went down.
I'm hardcore. I'll take 'em both.
Well today I get to become disenfranchised because it’s primary season in Pennsylvania. A while back the state got rid of its outdated, RACIST voting machines in favor of high-tech video screens that aren’t quite ready for use yet. Oh, this should be fun. I voted in two separate precincts during my stays in Pennsylvania and each time I used the lever machines. They were nice and efficient. You walk into the booth and pull the big handle. This makes the curtains close behind you and enables you to work the rest of the levers. For every candidate you support you push their little lever. If you, say, voted for Bush but wanted to change your vote to Kerry, you had to reset Bush’s lever before yanking on America’s Vietnam War Hero. When you were done with all your voting, you pulled the big lever again to register all your selections. Simple enough. Now I get to stand next to some machine that will probably remind me of when I took my driving license test, and if something doesn’t look right I get to have the 90-year olds who are manning the polls provide tech support. Hell, I might pretend to be confused just to see grandma get up and try to reboot the system or thumb through the machine’s how-to guide (along with bitching about how small the type is in the booklet).
There’s really no reason for me to vote in the primaries this year. My State Representative is a Democrat, so I can’t vote against him as an act of protest for the whole pay-raise debacle that took place last year. Even though my Rep didn’t vote for the pay hike, and I’ve voted for this Dem in a previous election, I’m considering voting for whoever runs against him in the general election just to say, “Fuck you bitches – vote yourself a pay raise and I’ll vote for whoever is running against the incumbent.” Around these parts, some people call this “voting for the gorilla.” Anyway, I figure this will be a nice tune-up for the general election that’s going to come in about six months. I’ll find out how to vote for Rick Santorum, who is probably running unopposed, or against a bunch of wackos I’ve never heard of before, and pray that the normally stupid constituents that make up a large portion of the Democrat Party think they're voting for Bob Casey Jr. when in fact they're endorsing Pat Buchanan come November.
Speaking of voting against incumbents who endorsed giving themselves a raise, there's a bitch in Beaver County named Mike Veon who not only voted for our state's most recent pay increase, but also defended his actions. Well, he defended it as much as one can without going to the media and explain himself. The funny thing is he's up against some nobody with a shoestring budget and the polls, last time I checked, indicate a close race. Veon, who long has been a popular Democrat Representative in a heavily Democrat area, is advertising on television, which tells me he's sweating a bit. And just to show that I’m not being partisan on this issue, I’m hoping for a few bitch-ass Republicans to bit the bullet in the primary season as well, especially since both branches of Congress in Pennsylvania are “controlled” by Republicans (although it’s hard to tell considering they bend over every time Governor Ed Rendell unzips his pants.
• Since message boards and blogs were meant for stupid lists of “favorite” and “not-so-favorite” things, coming soon will be KKK’s Top 103 Posters. A list so exciting, so heart-stopping, so utterly magnificent in production value that you will tune in two, or maybe even three, times to relive the drama and intrigue over and over and over again. Well, maybe not three “overs” because that would mean you tuned in four times … eh, you get the idea.
• All I can say is thank God for vacation time/sick days. This morning as I was getting ready for work I was thinking to myself, “Do you really have to do this today?” Of course this week I have a lot of projects due, but I’m one of those saps that likes to get things done ahead of time so I don’t end up running around like a chicken with its head cut off at the last minute trying to get a bunch of pisspoor work turned in. In addition, I get a certain amount of vacation days per year, and they have to be used up by December 31 or else I lose them. Now while many people at my place of employment choose to use a bunch up for a week or two off, I prefer to spread mine around. After all, why take a week off when you’ll end up having to work twice as hard for a week once you get back to work and have finish up the stack of assignments that were put on your desk while you were out and about? But I digress.
As I was making my morning commute I was right on schedule at around the 10- to 15-minute mark of my daily workweek drive. However, that’s when everything came to a literal grinding halt. I take Route 30 West, which passes by an Interstate Highway. I don’t go on I-376 West but it’s a nice marker to gauge my commute time. Well, about several miles before the Interstate exit, traffic was at a standstill in a place where it shouldn’t be. With the pouring rain, the better half and I figured this gridlock was probably due to an accident. The time was 6:15 a.m.; we were running a little behind schedule, but nothing serious. The time then became 6:20, then 6:30, then 6:40, and we haven’t moved an inch. Well, to be fair, we did move up a little bit, but that was because motorists in front of me were turning around and driving away. In addition, I was looking a few traffic lights down at this big white truck and noticed that during all this time it hadn’t moved an inch due to the traffic. It was now 6:55 and there was no sign of any vehicles in front of me moving forward. In addition, the traffic reports from a variety of radio stations weren’t mentioning anything about this backup, probably because it wasn’t on an Interstate – damn liberal media bias. Anyway, as a few more vehicles did U-Turns and high-tailed it out of there I was faced with a dilemma: Stay the course or turn around. The reason this became an issue was because if I were to move up I’d be away from the four-way intersection I was next to and unable to turn around if I felt like doing so. I figured it’s days like this that vacation days are made for, I turned around and headed back home. As I was driving back I took a look at the traffic that accumulated behind me up since I began waiting, and quite a lot of fossil fuel was wasted on this day.
Another reason I decided to stay home was that an additional accident took place on a road that I have to take to get to work. For those familiar with the Shittsburgh, area, an accident on the Fort Pitt Bridge was bringing outbound traffic to a standstill, and this accident was first reported at 6:30. By 8 a.m. it still hadn’t cleared and traffic was limited to just one lane. Sometimes the Gods make it apparent they don’t want you to work on a certain day, and who am I to question them?
9 p.m.
• Well gee, who could have thought people would find this offensive?
Video.
How dare he compare a presidential candidate to a monkey. Why that's unheard of. That's outrageous. That's...
That's....
That's...
That's...
That's...
That's....
That's....
That's....
That's....
That's....
That's ... Uhhhh? Oh, yeah...
8 p.m.
• So today was primary day in my state, and this usually means a boring day at the polls. Not this time.
I have no clue who is running for what locally in these primaries. It really doesn’t matter anyway, considering the same candidates are on both tickets. However, I wanted to vote on two referendums. The first dealt with Fast Eddie’s desire to raise my taxes again. Fuck you, you piece of shit. You’re going to raise my taxes anyway, you rat bastard – there’s no way in hell I’m going to vote for it. Of course I voted “no” on this. However, the second referendum dealt with funding for our local hippie library. Want to know what I think about this issue? Peep this. Well, as I was walking into to the polling place, this woman was standing outside the fire hall entrance, and I knew she was going to pimp trying to keep this hippie library open. I try to treat these people the same way I treat children and those kiosk people at the mall. I ignore them. However, if they approach and fire the first shot, then I will fire back. Today was one of those days. Here’s how the exchange went.
“Do you have any questions about *name of ballot issue*?” She then handed me a flyer telling me to vote “No,” which means keeping funding as-is for the library.
“No. I’m voting to close it down,” and without missing a beat I head straight into the polling place.
Game. Set Match.
After several minutes, the better half stormed into the polling place, slapped me on my shoulder and said “what the hell is wrong with you?” I said, “what?” However, I knew what was coming because I heard that woman say Mrs. kkk "is he serious?"
Mrs. kkk: “Did you see the look on that woman’s face.”
Me: “No, why?”
Mrs. kkk: “She said to me ‘is he serious?’ and then asked me if I was your wife.”
Me: “And what did you say?”
Mrs. kkk: “I have never been so embarrassed in my life.”
Too fucking bad. If you’re one of those grassroots lobbyists, then you better be prepared to deal with people that disagree with you. If you can’t take it, then get the fuck out of my way and let me cast my vote. I’m not going to cower because some person isn’t going to agree with my opinion. If you want to make your issue preference known, then I will, too. Oh, and I voted for some right-wing judge for state supreme court. The other candidates I didn’t vote for because I didn’t know who they were. But this wasn’t the only instance today in which I pissed off the better half…
kkk twin-spin
After voting against the library so grandma will have to get internet access on her own, it was time for grocery shopping. Now Mrs. kkk wanted to get two 24 packs of Pepsi for $10 because her church is having some “burger bash” fundraiser, and they were in need of beverages to sell for $1 a piece. The following conversation took place in the parking lot.
Me: “So we’re getting $10 of pop so your church can gouge its customers?”
Mrs. kkk: “It’s for a good cause.”
Me: “So your church is telling you to take a can of pop you bought for twenty cents and mark-up the price fivefold. What would Jesus think?”
Mrs. kkk:“*something about how Jesus would approve or something*”
Me: “I’d like to know how much he charged when he made all that bread and fish. Overcharging Jews; no wonder he got crucified.”
Mrs. kkk: “That is so wrong on so many levels.”
Oh, and the better half voted for the library. Bitch.
• Well today sucked hard. Not because there was some crack-whore meltdown at the in-laws annual Mother’s Day dining spectacular. In fact, that event was pretty mild, although the stuffed pork chop I ordered left something to be desired. The trouble came earlier in the morning when we had to rush Max to an emergency vet clinic. I mentioned in a previous entry that Max had been fighting a urinary tract infection, and we had him on some medication which seemed to be working. However, we then noticed he was having difficulty going to the bathroom. We took him to the vet again and they told us to change his diet and put him on another type of medication for a few weeks. Everything had been going well; there was no change in his behavior or in his litter habits. We thought he was over his troubles, but when the better half gave Dessa, JJ and Max their late-night feeding Saturday (we feed them twice a day – early in the morning and right before we go to bed), Max wasn’t all that interested in his food. This morning, his behavior got worse, and when he started crying under our spare bedroom we knew it was time to take him to the vet. The problem was that our regular vet’s office was closed, so we called a local emergency veterinarian hospital and took him there.
We knew what the diagnosis was already – he was suffering from blockage in his pee-hole, which is a serious condition for male cats. The vets sedated him and got the grit out, which was causing the obstruction. Fortunately, we got him there early and it looks like he’ll be OK; we should be able to bring him home tomorrow evening. I just thank whoever is up there that there was a 24-hour animal hospital around where I live because I don’t think Max would have made it if we had to wait until late Monday morning/afternoon to get him an appointment at our regular vet’s office. What was scary about all this was that we had been monitoring his behavior ever since he was diagnosed with an infection in early April, and he had always shown no real signs of a problem until late last night. So if you’re a pet owner, don’t hesitate to take your animal to the vet if you think something is wrong – if you don’t, the results can be deadly. Also, even if you have a regular vet and you are happy with his or her work, look around and see if your area has a 24-hour emergency center; you never know when you might need to go there.
• Wow. I watched live that overtime goal in the last Sabers/Senators game. I know the NHL tightened up the rules but goddamn, you at least have to make an effort to stop your opponent from waltzing in short-handed and scoring the series-clinching goal. I’m not sure what was worse – that or Lebron James’ game-winning lay-up against several members of the Wizards back in Round 1 of the NBA Playoffs.
• This is simply ... awesome.
9:15 p.m.
• I’m sure there are a few things being left out of this story, but for now I’ll say go ahead and sue. Look, it’s rated R and the kid is 12. She wouldn’t be allowed to watch this film by herself in the theaters, so at the very least her parents/guardians should have been alerted ahead of time by the government school that this film was going to be shown.
Like I said above, I’m sure there is something being left out: they only saw some snippet of the movie that had no indication of which cowboy was pitching and which one was catching. Now that I think about it, my one horticulture teacher in high school played a few R-rated movies, but we were all 15-17 years of age, not 12. Actually, we had one black/Indian/whatever kid in our class who was a star on our basketball team, and there was a film playing where some kid gets stranded in the jungle and was being raised by monkeys. When there was a scene with several chips screaming, some kid (and no it wasn’t me) said to this kid “there’s your mom.” Ah, juvenile humor. Shit, who am I kidding, I’d laugh at that now. When I was a freshman in high school we had some Iranian-or-close-enough kid who got razzed by one of his friends in class during the first Gulf War when he was asked if his house got bombed last night. Where was I going with this? Oh, yeah. R-rated movies. Our high school (or was it middle school? Christ I can’t remember) played “The Goonies” as a pre-Christmas break assembly one year, and some parent got pissed off because it was “inappropriate.” Not sure what became of it, but we didn’t watch one of those “American Tale” movies the next year, which was the big rumor. I remember a few times as a kid when “Ghostbusters” was played, much to the chagrin of some parents. Wow, and to think back then the line, “This guy has no dick” was big shit.
• And speaking of R-rated movies, I HATED carding people at the theater, although it was amusing to ask a group of teens for a driver’s license and none of them would have one available, which was odd because someone had to drive them. I never really got a good response to this question. I didn’t really care if some 16-year old wanted to see “Scream” without mom or dad with him, but my Nazi managers would, so I had to do what I did to keep from getting nagged out. Besides, it’s not that hard to buy a PG-13 ticket and then slip into the R-rated film minutes later. Now where am I going with this? Who know, who cares.
• So JJ had to get a bath yesterday. I don’t know why the better half insists on washing him, because after a day or so he stinks again. There’s nothing you can do about it – that’s how he was made and that’s how he will be. But no, we humans try to defy nature. Well, yesterday JJ for some reason trotted into the bathroom right as Mrs. kkk was getting the shampoo and towels out. This gave us the chance to isolate him in the bathroom rather than chasing him all over the house. The second the door closed he knew the jig was up and began crying at the top of his lungs. Jesus Christ. He then began scurrying around the bathroom, like that would help. Once there was some water in the tub it was time for JJ to take his dip.
8:15 p.m.
• Every Mother’s Day the in-laws take the family out to lunch/dinner at some restaurant. Every year, the mother-in-law gets pissed off with the service and/or food and we will “never” go there again, so each year it’s something different. This year it was some crappy local Italian restaurant, and it doesn’t take much for me to be happy at an eatery but today wasn’t one of those times. Good God was this food shit. Oh well, it wasn’t my money. Oh, and the crack whore sister-in-law and her out-of-control daughter were here, and the niece almost fell asleep at the table. I just thank Christ I was on the other side of the four tables that were arranged to accommodate us.
• Last night Lesson in Machismo and I were talking about some old-school rap. Well, I shouldn’t say old-school, because one person’s “old-school” is another’s “hey I grew up listening to that shit? You want ‘old school,’ listen to *insert name of group that was prominent 10 years prior.*” I remember one night back in the late 1990s while watching Rap City’s “Old School Wednesday,” they played Del the Funky Homosapien’s “Catch a Bad One.” Uh, that song was released back in ’93 and it’s classified “Old School”? This was 1997 (or ’98) – four years is “old”? Oy. Anyway, it was a pleasant trip down memory lane, especially when this was brought up. Oh hell yeah.
And while I’m on this topic. WTF?
Some folks have WAY too much time on their hands, and that’s coming from me of all people. You want my kkkommentary on this song? Here it is:
1) I love how the Cube’s vehicle is chasing the bootleggers through the fog, but the atmosphere is clear and the sky is blue when there’s a close up of O’Shea Jackson (OMG REAL NAME/BREAKING KEYFABE~!) driving.
2) My favorite image in this whole video (besides the tunnel beatdown at the 2:00 mark) is at the 2:28 mark when some huge guy to the far right in Cube’s gang is running after the bootleggers and turns his head to the side. It might be hard to see on a computer scree, but when seen on TV it's more obvious.
3) Right after Mr. Beefy’s head turn is one of the funniest pseudo-beat downs I’ve ever seen. Honorable mentions goes to some guy in the right side of the screen at the 2:27 mark and some guy hitting another over the head with a record cover at the 2:35 mark. But my favorite is the same guy from the 2:27 mark looking at the camera while “pummeling” his victim at the 2:32 mark.
What a great song. What a great video.
But I don’t party and shake my BUTT
I leave that to the brothers with the funny haircuts
And it’ll drive you nuts
Steal your beat, and give it that gangsta touch.
• Yesterday I goofed on a few radio commercials, and today I need to vent about some television ads that are pushing me toward the edge. Now I personally think jewelry is a colossal waste of money and that anyone who buys this over-priced crap is a fool. However, I purchase my share of stupid things, so who am I to judge? Anyway, disagree with me about buying jewelry – that’s fine. But don’t argue with me over how annoying some of the ads promoting this product are. The brand that annoys me the worst is Jared. First off, I had no idea until a year or so ago that there was a jewelry store named after a guy who lost weight eating Veggie Delights. And to make matters worse, Jared’s ads are awful. All they consist of is some chick running around saying, “He went to Jared!” with parents, siblings and jealous friends repeating the line in different tones. The worst of the worst has to be that commercial with the chick at some hippie party getting her panties wet over every ring/earring/necklace she sees, with the other women point to their men and saying, “He went to Jared.” At the end of the commercial this bitch walks up to her husband, who has no clue what’s going on, and drops something in his drink. I hope he beats the ever-loving shit out of her when they get home because she needs it; the only rock she should get is one from the backyard right to her dome.
But the people at Jared look like a marketing geniuses next to Kay Jewelers. I don’t care too much of Mother’s Day or Father’s Day because, well, I don’t give two shits about my family. However, I can’t wait for Mother’s Day to arrive because I’m getting ready to turn violent over Kay’s one Mother’s Day-themed ad. It starts out with this guy taking his wife to the garage, where their brats are playing music and singing, “You’re the most awesome mom in the world, happy Mother’s Day.” Christ I haven’t heard a more annoying sound in quite sometime, and what kind of fucked up family would do something like this? The gang that lives a house or two down from me symbolizes more what a typical family is like. It was around midnight earlier this week when I got to hear that family talk about how the mother found a stash of drugs in the one son’s room. I wish Kay would make a song from the lyrics I heard that night: “I fucking hate you you fucking twat and I can’t wait until I leave this fucking place!” Oh, yeah. All together now: “Happy Mother’s Day!”
• Speaking of Mother’s Day, tomorrow I get to partake in a tradition the better half’s family had engaged in for years. Every Mother’s Day the in-laws gather up the family and we go to some restaurant. I’m not complaining. After all, it’s a free meal, and the entertainment will be provided courtesy of the crack-whore sister-in-law. Hopefully she won’t be totally doped up and start a fight with someone there. I also think that this will be the first time she will be near the better half since our wedding last June; a wedding where she stormed out of the church and caused one of those magical family moments that you just treasure for the rest of your life. Oh, and for the record, the person who stormed out was the crack-whore, not Mrs. kkk, although you couldn’t blame her since she was marrying me. Hopefully there will be some action tomorrow and I’ll be able to have tomorrow’s entry write itself with minimal effort.
11:30 p.m.
• Huh? I entered this in on Saturday and it's reading this as having been posted on a Sunday. Oh well, must be a time-zone/setting thing.
• No offense, but I’d rather have my cops adopt the “warrior culture” than the "Frenchie culture." And by "Frenchie culture," I'm talking about officers running away – not smelling bad.
• I get that this Bode Miller guy isn’t liked by some, but is he really that big a public figure that his name needs dropped when a relative of his kills an officer of the law? Oh, and thank God that piece of shit cousin of his is dead.
• Oh great, now with reporters getting their beats outsourced, I can expect some hysteria in the near future about the horrible economy.
Back in the ‘90s when we had the GREATEST ECONOMY OF ALL TIME BILL CLINTON, I always felt this “boom” was a bit overblown, mostly in part because the media was close to this tech bubble thing. I’m not saying this was a LIBERAL BIAS~! thing; just a “Bob from sports has just quit his job to be a writer for this local Internet start-up. Boy, this economy must be great" thing. Then when the tech bubble burst, and these writing/PR/marketing jobs were the first to be axed, I felt the great recession of the early ‘00s was a bit exaggerated as well. My proof for all of this? Nothing. Just remembering what I read during this time.
• For those that actually care about the groundhog living under my backyard shed, he popped out today to munch on some grass.
He seems to get fatter each year; one day I think he won’t be able to fit back into his crib. Hey, he’s not bothering anyone so I let him live his life. Besides, it’s fun to knock on the back door and watch him bolt back under the shed.
And speaking of lazy animals, here’s JJ today earning his keep.
• For what seemed like an eternity, OnStar has been airing these commercials pimping their service. For those that don't know, OnStar is some hippie service in cars that lets you call an operator and have them help you out with anything from reporting an accident to unlocking car doors. Well, their radio commercials include real-life incidents showing us how valuable OnStar is. While some ads were downright stupid -- like the guy who locked his keys, and dog, in the car -- one particular commercial will always stick out in my mind. This kid in a heavy southern drawl calls in and goes, "Heeeeelp, my mamma's siiiick." The operator starts talking and the kid adds, "I'm five." Toward the end of the commercial the operator says something like, "Remember OnStar is always here for you," and the kid, not having any idea of what's going on, says "ok."
Another radio ad that is funny for all the wrong reasons are those stupid Ad Council public service announcements. Recently, I've been hearing this one that is even worse than usual. The ad starts with this guy and his young daughter in a car and the kid goes, "Daddy, are we there yet?" The father goes, "Almost. Grrr, there's a work zone ahead. Maybe I can pass these really slow cars." He then starts to burn rubber, and all of a sudden you hear a loud crash and the kid yelling, "Daddy!" There's another version of this ad featuring a soccer mom and her son, but the father/daughter one is much funnier.
• I finished watching all of Lost's season one episodes and decided to see what other people thought of the show in TSM's Lost thread. It's funny to read what people say right after an episode and then speculate on where some storylines might be headed. I'm not making fun of some of the incorrect predictions because that's the fun of watching a show when it first airs and then speculating on what the future holds. However, I'm much more content now with getting a season's worth of DVDs and watching them when I want to. All in all, not a bad show. It's not my favorite program or anything like that, but it was well worth the purchase. I think one thing I don't like about watching shows when they're being first-run is that you have to wait at least a week for the next show to be aired. Give me the episodes back-to-back and commercial free. I've noticed that when watching shows on DVD I tend to catch more subtle things that would get overlooked otherwise. A good example of this are with my Seinfeld DVDs; for example, in one of the earlier episodes Jerry is hitting on this chick and staked her out at her job (with George deciding he wants to be an architect). In a later episode, the same chick is with him on a "weekend retreat" that ruined the relationship. Had it not been for the DVD's and watching them in order, I would not have spotted this continuity.
When it comes to Lost's second season, I think I'll just wait until it comes out on DVD. That way, I won't have to fret when that show goes on a multi-week hiatus, leaving me to wonder who that wacky polar bear is going after, or whatever the hell is going on in Season 2. As for the first season, here is my opinion of the show's characters, for those that care. They are listed in the order of likeability. Oh, yeah. possible SPOILERS ahead:
Sawyer: You had me at "I never voted Democrat." Total asshole, and I love him.
Locke: I thought he'd be Chester the Molester at first, but I like his story and he plays backgammon.
Sayid: Out of everyone in that group, shouldn't he have known that convincing someone to blow themselves up, then telling them they can't, is one of the worst things you can do to a Muslim male?
Hugo: Dude, you have a lot of funny moments, but every time I see your sweat stains I gag when thinking about what your stench must be like.
Jack: Eh, I guess he has to be there and all, but I really don't care much about him.
Kate: She's like Jack to me, only with tits.
Jin: He's there. Nothing negative or positive to say.
Sun: See Jin.
Boon: Commie.
Mike: I don't hate him as much as I hate his kid. I do feel for him a bit though considering his baby's momma royally fucked him over in life.
Charlie: Got a few laughs from me, but he's starting to get old what with being p-whipped and all. He ought to go for a walk with Claire and the kid deep into the jungle.
Claire: I'm a fan of Aussie accents, especially when it's a woman's voice, but she got on my nerves at various times and I really don't care what happens to her.
Shannon: Die, bitch.
Walt: I don't care what happens to this brat.
• Be warned that the hippie in me has broken out of his cell and is on the loose within my fingers frantically typing away. This is why I will never understand hunters or fishermen. Lookie, here’s a rare instance of a wild hybrid polar/grizzly bear. Wait, IT’S COMING RIGHT FOR US! Blast away. Hey, I just reeled in a 54-pound fish. What am I going to do with it? Well, let’s "Chop it up and feed it to the skunks and possum.” Can’t we just leave wild animals alone; we kill enough life already to fill up our bellies -- do we really need to go out and find more when there’s a perfectly acceptable meat department at your local grocery store?
• As I type this entry I’ve got Dr. Laura on and this chick just said that her husband got arrested and is in jail charged with the delinquency of a minor and she doesn’t know what to do. Her parents want her to divorce the guy, who’s also a junkie, but she wants to give him “the benefit of the doubt.” Oh, and she also has a nine-month old kid. Who the fuck are these people that call in to this show? This caller brings back a memory of one of better half’s friends who years ago was in a relationship with a guy that got convicted and served time for the same thing this caller’s hubby stands accused of. (Or was it getting convicted for “corrupting the morals of a minor?”) In the case of the better half’s friend, the initial charge was a rape allegation by two high school girls, but when that couldn’t be proved (I think because neither one could remember what happened, or that the DNA evidence was messed up due to them banging other people, too), this guy, who was 21-22 years of age, did get convicted for supplying these two high school girls with alcohol. There were two great payoffs in this whole fiasco. First, Mrs. kkk’s friend stuck by her man for the trial (although she broke up with him afterward) and was photographed on the front page of the newspaper walking toward the courtroom with the alleged rapist. Secondly, this guy’s dad was a local public official, and when the next election came around he lost his seat to someone else. (He was a Democrat for those keeping score at home.) Yet another reason not to get a chick drunk and then have sex with her. Besides, I have heard that knockout pills work better anyway.
• Speaking of drunk bitches, during the summer going into my junior year of high school I spent a few weeks at my half-brother’s California apartment, where he lived with his girlfriend at the time, Jessica. Well, Jessica had this one friend who was the “party animal” of her group. One night the three of them went out to some bar or club, and since I was under-age I didn’t tag along. They returned sometime around midnight or 1 a.m., and Jess’s friend was shit-faced and in no condition to walk, let alone drive. I was sleeping on the couch and Jessica whipped out some pull-out mattress and had her friend sleep on that in the living room, which was the room I was sleeping in as well. A short time later I heard someone trudging about, and I looked around to see what was going on. This chick was spinning around in what appeared to be a state of disorientation. Finally, she just plopped onto the couch right on top of me. Instead of feeling her up or doing some other naughty act, I was more concerned about getting the hell out of there for several reasons. 1) The cushions were squished and my back was up against a wooden frame, which hurt like hell. 2) If she would have thrown up, well, that wouldn’t have been good. Anyway, I’m not sure how long it took, but I eventually got to wiggle myself free and spent the rest of the night on her mattress. When she eventually woke up she simply got up and left. When Jessica came out of her bedroom, she asked why I was laying where I was. After telling her of my night’s events, she laughed and called her friend up, who had no recollection of any of this. That’s all I got. Thank you drive-thru.
kkk's Top 103 Posters
Number 26: BX
I don’t know why BX would be shocked that I would actually vote for him in a TSM Poster Contest. Just because I disagree with 99.999999999 percent of what someone thinks regarding politics (and I’m still waiting for that 0.000000001 percent of something we agree on) doesn't mean I have to hate him for it. And besides, there are other things to talk about besides whether or not George W. Bush is the devil. Take the Return of the King for example (at the time the spoiler tags weren’t there). And finally, I, along with anyone who remembers when the Current Events folder was worth reading, hope that BX savors this ranking, because I don’t think he’ll be getting on this kind of list with a certain poster from South Carolina any time in the near future.
And now a word or two from the expert panel I've assembled to comment on the people I've listed.
From Cancer Marney:
From SFA Jack:
9:15 p.m.
• I just learned an important lesson (well, I didn't learn it since it was something I already knew, but you know what I'm talking about -- I hope). Never walk in front of the better half’s viewing area when the “Ghost Whisperer” is on. Jesus Christ. Bitch walks in front of me while I’m playing MVP Baseball and facing a 3-2 count with the bases loaded all the time. So just to be an asshole when I went to the ‘fridge and got something to drink and did a military crawl under the TV picture so I wouldn’t obstruct her line of sight to Jennifer Love Hewitt’s tits acting performance. Speaking of MVP, I had some guy in AAA who was a bench player but had decent power, so I put him in as my full-time DH. He was my most productive player at that level power-wise and cranked a three-run round-tripper last night only to rupture his ACL during a routine run to home plate as my other player grounded into an inning’s third out. Mother fucker.
Punks Jump Up To Get Beat Down~!
Lord Jamar will live long, ‘cuz I give strong blows to the heads of my foes.
You know, with the homophobic lyrics Brand Nubian has spit over the years. that’s a pretty gay line up there.
Oh, shit. This is the season finale of the “Ghost Whisperer.” I guess Mrs. kkk will want to spend quality time shit now that show and the other one which comes on after that will be done for the summer.
8:45 p.m.
• Smues recent entry about housing costs gave me a flashback, so let’s go into the time machine.
It was in the early 2000s and the better half and I moved to the lovely community of Middletown, Ohio. I’ve said on occasion what I think of this little slice of Americana; when I got off of I-75 and took the Middletown exit I was rather pleased with what I saw. Some minor development – a mall here, a grocery store there. A small town feel. My type of place.
Then I began to drive inbound toward “downtown” Middletown. And I got scared. Real scared. More than one time I thought to myself, “We’re actually going to live here?” The up-and-coming property and housing developments quickly faded to this red-neck villa that I just escaped from Sappy Valley. However, the housing complex we had a lease with was a pretty nice place; it was clearly an oasis in a sea of white trash. And to top it off, our townhouse was spacious and had central air. And the rent was only $700/month. I was as happy as a pig in shit.’
Why am I talking about this? Because some time after we got situated, my old man and his wife stopped by. When I lived in southwestern Ohio, he would often stop by for a night before heading out to Nebraska to visit my half-brother before going to Colorado to visit my step-mom’s one adult offspring. Well, having just left Sappy Valley where an apartment off-campus ran you more than the cost for this townhouse, I was liking my living situation. Problem is my old man is one of those people who no matter what the deal is, the price is still too much. As I was showing him around he of course asked how much was I paying. Like an idiot, I said the price, which of course sparked OUTRAGE~! Then my step-mom countered with something that actually shut the old man up, commenting on the trailer they were living in at the time..
“Bill, we pay $350/month for a hole in the ground.”
Silence.
Game. Set. Match.
I should mention that later that day he said to save money I should use sawdust and newspaper as cat litter instead of that fancy stuff I was using. He then commented on why two litter boxes that were used by three cats would stink after six days of usage. Sigh.
8:30 p.m.
• I knew this was coming, but I can't help it.
8:30 p.m.
• Oh for Christ’s sake. I heard about this a year or so ago during a local RIGHT-WING RADIO show, and now they’re actually going through with this.
6:30 p.m.
• Swift Terror talked about George Lucas calling “Spiderman 3” silly. I consider myself a Star Wars mark. I don’t care about all the books that took place after “Return of the Jedi.” I don’t care that Luke Skywalker ran a Jedi school while Leia popped out a few Solo babies. (I also have both volumes of that “Clone Wars” animated cartoon, and I like it.) Give me Episodes VI, V and VI. OK, you know what? I’ll even take Episodes I, II and III. Sure the prequels aren’t nearly as good as the pre-sequels, or whatever you call them, but it’s like voting for your political party even if you don’t care too much for the candidate or rooting for your hometown team no matter who is on the roster. It’s a blind loyalty for better or for worse, but before Lucas calls any of the Spiderman movies “silly,” he needs to look at himself in the mirror and ask...
E’ zOmE pEePlE gOiN’ DiE~!?
Actually, the two lines that make me cringe are “Jar-Jar, you in some big doo-doo this time,” and “I don’t care what plant you’re from, that’s gotta hurt.” (I probably don’t have them as exact quotes, but they’re close enough.)
And regarding the Spiderman movies. I’m not a comic book guy, but from my limited experiences with this industry, my four favorite characters are the Punisher, Batman, Sgt. Rock and Spiderman. And the Spidey movies have been solid. My only complaint has been that in the second film it seemed every other minute had some chick screaming at the top of their lungs, which got annoying quick. Hey, it’s a guy with metal arms. AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIE! Look, some train is going to crash into a dead end. AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIE! Uh oh, there’s a big ball of energy coming from that abandoned building down by the river. AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIE! But this inconvenience was more than made up for with J. Jonah Jameson (being a journalism student I really appreciate this character), Bruce Campbell (again) and that brief homage to Director Sam Rami’s “Evildead” days in the operating room.
11 a.m.
• Pirates 0, Cubs 1
:lol: :lol:
What, you're expecting some sort of commentary like other people here do? I'm surprised they are only four games below .500; it's a shame that my one friend from Ohio may be visiting this summer, thus forcing me to possibly head over to PNC Park. The things I do for some people.
• Shame on you RIGHT-WING RADIO, shame on you. Yesterday I bitched about how a local television news station is pimping a FREE GAS GIVEAWAY, but now you guys at 104.7 WPGB have this hippie feature on your Web site where someone types in their zip code and a list of stations come up. Now the evil Clear Channel is taking part in the “OMG GAS PRICES ARE HIGH WHAT WILL WE DO?” hysteria. Just for the heck of it I logged on and tried out this service, and guess what: Just about all of them are the same! I’m as frugal as the next person; actually, I’m probably more frugal than the next person and the person after that, but I’m not driving halfway across town just to find a Quickie-Mart with gas that is 10 cents cheaper than the other places around it.
Actually, this brings back a fond childhood memory of my old man driving me around to several grocery stores because each had specific sale items. We’d first drive 20 minutes to Giant Eagle and get some bananas and pork. Then it was a 15-minute scoot to Foodland, where apples were 40 cents off. To continue the fun we’d go 25 minutes out of the way and pick up some chuck roast at 70 cents off per pound. Now being a kid driving all over the place for this crap, you can imagine how fun this was for me. Finally, one day I asked him why are we going all over the place just to get a few items. I was told because due to the Reagan economy (OK, I made that part up) a person has to save money whenever he can. My response to that: “But aren’t you wasting money on gas?” To this day I never got an answer to that from my old man.
• I heard on the radio today that Major League Baseball is allowing pink-colored bats to be used for Mother’s Day games. I’m sure there’s a joke somewhere in here dealing with the San Francisco Giants, but I’ll pass on it (this time).
• Speaking of baseball, a while back I was goofing on the Pirates and their retarded slogan “We will…” Well, to the surprise of many, the Pirates haven’t been doing so good this season, but what’s funny is that they’re still using this slogan. However, instead of earlier ads that stated “We will … preserve,” “We will … play hard,” We will … not give up,” now the commercials are saying “We will … support our Bucs.” Riiiight. I’m going to support the “bucs” in my wallet and not pay major-league prices to watch a minor-league team play. And just for the record, I only go to one grocery story, too.
• Oh, I didn’t get to talk about the LA Lakers and Kobe’s second-half collapse in Game 7 of the Western Conference quarterfinals. Now I was a Bryant fan for a while, and I defended him on his rape allegations after I concluded that the chick he banged in that hotel room was out for the money. However, my opinion of him has soured since, although I thought he should be considered for this year’s MVP award. But after watching his actions in Game 7, I don’t blame the league for giving it to Steve Nash. And for all the comparisons of Kobe to Michael Jordan? No way would Jordan act the way Bryant did in that game. I can’t stand it when basketball players get compared to M.J., and now to do it with Bryant is downright laughable.
• As I finish up today's entry, I'm listening on the radio to an interview of a "retired" polygamist. Having one wife is bad enough, I can't imagine what it would be like to deal with several of them. I know I would have "retired" the first time they all nagged me to mow the lawn.
• Well today a bunch of illegal immigrants are supposed to show us what it would be like without their presence. Like I've said before, don't pick your lettuce, but only if you also don't show up at our emergency rooms or schools. Also it would be greatly appreciated if you didn't receive any public assistance from our country's numerous free-money centers. If these people are going to go south of the border, if only for a day, then I'll feel a lot safer should I get blindsided by a motorist today. Not only will I be able to understand the words coming out of this person's mouth, but also there's a greater chance that driver will have insurance.
• The NFL Draft has passed, and I forgot to talk about my all-time favorite moment, which was when Emily Manning threw his little shitfit and pouted like a bitch when the San Diego Chargers drafted him with the first overall pick a few years ago. I don't know what was better -- hearing the boos he got from the crowd, seeing Emily barely latch onto that #1 Chargers jersey, or listening to Chris Berman trying to spin the whole situation, "See, he's even holding up that jersey; what a great sport!" All of this only led up to the best part of the draft, hands down, when it was announced Emily was traded to New York and then to hear the NYC crowd react when the commish began reading off everything the Giants gave up.
• Speaking of drafts, I figure this might be a good time to reflect on the time I attended a professional sports draft. No, I didn't drive up to New York City and wear some stupid green hard hat with an airplane on it. My one friend, who was a partial season ticket holder to Penguin games, gave me her pair of tickets to the 1997 NHL draft that took place in Shittsburgh because she was going to be out of town that week. The funny thing is I knew none of the athletes being drafted at this event. Joe Thornton was the top pick that year, but I don't know (or pronounce the names of) anyone else that got picked this day, although Sergei Samsonov is ringing a bell for some reason. Anyway, my friend that I brought with the other ticket and I just sat and watched these names being called and cheered when the Pens made their selections. One highlight from this day came when the crowd who attended this event booed every time the Rangers made a pick. In addition, I think some kid who played goalie for a nearby college or minor-league team got drafted. Even though the day was fairly uneventful, it wasn't a total waste of a day. After all, it's not every day you get all the teams of a sports league get together and prepare for their futures right before your eyes.
• I heard over the weekend that Shittsburgh has a National Woman's Professional Football team called the "Passion." Oh well, seeing how this team has survived three seasons already, I guess you go, girls. This team can't be any worse than the USFL's Maulers from back in the day.
