KKK's Top 103 Posters
Number 30: Lovecraft/Gary Floyd
He hates freedom, to be sure. But he also hates commies, which is a bigger plus than the former is a minus. He likes horror movies, too. Really likes them. Update your blog, hippie.
And now a word or two from the expert panel I've assembled to comment on the people I've listed.
From Black Lushus:
From Carnival:
6 p.m.
• Being a tireless A-Rod defender, I was a bit nervous when he popped out with the bases loaded early on in the season. However, it looks like he’s doing rather well for himself as of late.
If the Yankees reach the postseason, for his sake I hope Rodriguez can be money in October as he is in April.
• So NBC showed that Jap’s video. (Korean, Japanese, what’s the difference?)
If we really wanted to “understand” this nut, then his incoherent ramblings should have been aired uncensored (like my blog entries). But we can’t put this…
…anywhere NEAR a video camera or printing press. Whatever.
• Yeah, the story itself is dumb.
What makes me laugh is the patriotic scarf.
1 p.m.
• Remember that "pensis" ad I posted a while back? Well, this little gem paid a visit to my e-mail inbox just now.
Yesterday I set up the events leading up to a party at a friend’s house back during my high school days. Now it’s time for the exciting conclusion.
When we got back to Jeff’s house, whose driveway was already filled with vehicles, we asked him why did he let people in already when we agreed not to until we got back from getting food. Unfortunately, we didn’t get all that coherent a response, considering he was already on the path to drunkenness. So all that planning of a cover charge and using Greg as a bouncer? Gone. When the first group of people rang the doorbell, Jeff had scurried over to the door and let them in before Greg could do anything. It was at this moment I decided to move a recliner up close to the living room television and just sit there and watch TV. If you ever saw that “South Park” episode with Christopher Reeve and Stem Cells, that’s pretty much how it went. I told everyone that, basically, I “was out” because I knew trouble was on the horizon.
A few hours later more people showed up. Then more. And more. In the early evening I was still planted in the living room watching television as uninvited guests populated this three-story suburban house. Because of a lack of available space, people were “forced” to join me in the living room. Since there isn’t a large contingent of Blue Jay fans where I lived, Game 6 of the World Series got switched over in favor of a Penguins game. It was around this time when some people began making fun of my choice to be a wallflower. “Boy, you really know how to have a good time,” was a common line thrown at me, but I just sat back and said “just wait.”
After a while I got up from my chair and decided to do a rough head count of people attending this gathering. After counting all just about everyone in the basement and the first floor, I totaled more than 80 people. I then went back to my chair. Shortly thereafter the fun really began. I forget the chick’s name, but suddenly I heard screaming from the second floor followed by some other shouting. From what I was told my one friend (I think it was Greg) was up on the second floor when he suddenly heard a commotion from Jeff’s parents’ bedroom. Suddenly, he saw a girl in her bra and panties trying to run out of the room only to be grabbed and dragged back in by 4-5 guys before being able to break out again and locking herself in a nearby bathroom. I should note that there was some consensual penetration going on as well -- Greg told me later that evening that he heard sounds in not only the parents' bedroom, but also in Jeff's and in his sister's rooms. In addition, he found a couple in a nearby broom closet going at it.
Right after this attempted rape, a few drunken idiots that got into a fight over something or other. When the one guy’s girlfriend tried to break up the scuffle, it only seemed to make matters worse. As the girl’s boyfriend stormed out he punched a neighbor’s fiberglass (or some other fancy material) mailbox, shattering it. At the same time someone else took their car and turfed up another neighbor’s yard, leaving several deep track marks in an otherwise impressive landscape design.
During the attempted rape and property damage, a few of my friends began noticing things ... missing from Jeff’s house. In all the action that took place, there were several ruffians that helped themselves to some items in the house. When it was all said and done, it was determined that several thousand dollars of property was stolen. Among the items I remembered that were taken included a set of golf clubs, several extension cords (?), a weed wacker (!), and a number of CDs, video games, video cassettes and sports memorabilia -- the most valuable of which being a football that was signed by the 1985 Chicago Bears team. Actually I should correct myself; the football wasn't stolen, someone just punted it from the backyard deck into the nearby woods. It turned up later, with all the signatures smeared beyond recognition.
As the night progressed, and the alcohol flowed, some of these uninvited guests began to get more physical, and several mini-scuffles broke out; all the while I was sitting in front of the television and watched the Blue Jays win their first World Series championship (I'm pretty sure the final out was when the Braves leadoff hitter -- Lofton? -- attempted a bunt and got out at first base). When 4 a.m. finally rolled around, virtually everyone had left. I decided to help Jeff try to clean up the house, especially since his parents would be back home Sunday. There were some things I couldn’t fix, such as the cigarette burn marks on a variety of furniture throughout the house. Knowing my limits of what I could repair, I decided to do the dishes. As I was cleaning off plates and glasses, that guy whose girlfriend tried to break up a fight that took place earlier that night got into another scuffle – this time with his girlfriend. After some shouting and the sound of flesh being smacked, I turned around to see the girlfriend in question fly through the air and hit her head up against the dining room table. Although she had blood coming out of her, she managed to pull her boyfriend’s earring out before getting tossed. It was about that time when I decided to go to sleep.
When I woke up at around 9 a.m., I looked around for Jeff, who was frantically mopping the basement floor in hopes of getting out the stench of smoke and booze. I asked him how it was going. We both laughed. After helping out with some more cleaning (and loaning Jeff $100 to give to the neighbor with the shattered mailbox), I had Don drive me back home. Of course when Jeff’s parents returned he had to fess up to what happened because, well, the furniture had irreversible damage, the house still smelled like smoke and the garage had a lot fewer items in it when compared to a few days ago. I don’t remember much of the fallout from this, although I know the police were involved, and the weed wacker and golf clubs were returned. As I look back at this event, I can’t help but laugh. Then again, this didn’t take place at my house.
8 p.m.
• For those that care, the mail issue has been resolved. When I called the post office on Friday, I actually spoke to the chick that delivered mail on my street. Basically, she said that she couldn’t find my mailbox and though that rusted out piece of shit was indeed my mailbox. When I mentioned my neighbor who needs to get his mail at his doorstep, she said, “Oh I knew about that,” to which my response was, “then why was his mail with mine in the wrong mailbox. Silence. Oh, and that rusted mailbox is now hanging by a thread from its post.
• Here’s an update on the sterile Mexican family. Despite having the income of a part-time janitor, and the expenses of two test-tube kids, this household purchased a house, a new car and luxury items like a projection television. Did I mention they claimed bankruptcy a few years back due to maxed out credit cards? Well last night we discovered that – surprise – they are at least three months back on their mortgage payments with a house they bought less than 15 months ago. Whenever I hear welfare-reform opponents whine about how cruel we are to our nation’s poor, I get the urge to laugh until I cry.
• I hope there aren’t any great expectations for this place. LOL2007~!
If you dont' get the joke, go read a book. Then again, I don't read any of this hippie shit either.
1 p.m.
• So as I was driving to work this morning I heard on the radio some story about this local college athlete getting arrested due to a domestic dispute. I can’t tell you who the athlete was or what sport he played. All I can tell you is that the fight started over a set of car keys. Oh, and the chick saying that the “violence started after she hit him in the chest.” Uh, no, bitch – the violence started WHEN you hit that guy in the chest. I don’t advocate violence on females (unless, of course, they are really deserving of it, like when they don't have your dinner ready when you home from work), but when you bitches strike us first it should be on like Donkey Kong.
Ah, here's the story.
If all this is true, I wouldn't punish Benjamin outside of the normal criminal conduct code for two people fighting in public. A college basketball player for a Division 1A program and all she got was a bleeding knee along with a few scratches and bruises. I think she got off rather lucky. The only thing I'd fault Benjamin for is poor choice in women, but then again the article says "former girlfriend."
When I started taking a trip down memory lane for the 1992 National League Championship Series (see my 4/15 and 4/16 entries), I remembered what it was like for the Pirates to field a winning team. Better yet, I was part of this by going to Games 3 and 4 of the NLCS. Although the Pirates lost in a heart-breaking Game 7 in Atlanta that year, my interest in baseball didn’t head to the showers afterward. I was also a Blue Jays fan back then. I’m not sure why I took a liking to the Jays; I think it might have been that bird symbol. In fact, it probably was due to that. As I followed this team in the mid-80s, I began to feel for them considering they always choked, both in the regular and postseason. (I'm sure Bored could spend a week talking about the "Blow Jays" of the 1980s and early 1990's.) Well, ’92 was different as they finally made the World Series, but would they have the fire power and pitching to defeat the Braves?
Who knows and who cares – I was getting ready for a party.
If you read the Game 3 recap from my 4/15 entry, chances are you remember my friend who went with me to this game. Well, this friend, Jeff, was going to have a party at his house on October 24. For some reason, his parents were heading off to their daughter’s college to spend a weekend with her and figured Jeff was mature enough to be left unsupervised. On a side note, Jeff’s sister attended Dickinson College and his parents had a bumper sticker on one of their cars that read, “I’m a Dickinson Dad.” The best part? That was the car Jeff was allowed to drive. Anyway, this party was going to be the shizzle because we had another friend, Greg, with a driver’s license that said he was 22 years of age; problem was he was only 17. However, this was a legit license; the DMV screwed up the date on his card. So whenever someone had a get-together and needed alcohol, Greg was the man to call.
In my opinion, your junior year of high school is the best out of the four years you're there. Many of us are old enough to drive and work, which means disposable income and non-parental transportation. In addition, you don’t have to worry about college and all that other crap because you’re not a senior. The junior year is your “free time,” and this October party was going to be our big celebration into pseudo-adulthood.
Besides myself, Greg and Jeff, there were two other friends that were planning this party: Don and Bryce. For weeks my friends were budgeting money for food and a variety of alcoholic drinks. Also, they were planning other aspects of an event like this: Who would be invited? Should there be a cover charge to pay for the keg? How will we enforce potential crashers? You know, all the important stuff. It was finally decided that we would invite a certain number of people, and we would have a $2-3 cover charge, which would finance the booze. We were also going to have Greg, who was a big guy, man the front door and act as the bouncer, refusing to let anyone in who wasn’t on our list.
The plan seemed good in theory, and we were all looking forward to this upcoming weekend. However, a few days before the 24th, there were some signs that were pointing to this being a problematic couple of days. Well, actually, there was only one – and it wasn’t even a sign; it was a map. A map to Jeff’s house that was created by this girl we knew named Shannon who passed it out to just about every kid in school without us knowing about it until it too late to do anything. We grumbled about Shannon’s actions, but we figured it wasn’t a big deal because our “bouncer” plan would keep the riff-raff out.
When October 24 came, we were all psyched. Sometime in the afternoon, we decided to get the half-dozen or so large pizzas we had planned on purchasing for this get-together. While me, Don and Kurt (another friend of ours) went out to get the pizza, Greg, Bryce and Jeff would hold down the fort. Before we left, the rule was not to let anyone in until the three of us got back; strength in numbers and all that. As we left to get the food, we joked about Jeff being “attached” to the keg (he had swigged down quite a few brews already). We picked up the pizzas and returned back to Jeff’s house. When we left there were only 2-3 cars in his driveway. When we came back there were at least a half dozen. For the last few miles to Jeff’s house, Don was saying, “He (Jeff) better not let anybody in.” When we pulled up to Jeff’s house and saw the newly parked automobiles, Don said, as he recognized some of the cars that belonged to people who weren’t invited to this get-together, “Oh that fucking idiot let them in.” I knew this was going to be an … eventful night. That is, if you consider attempted rape, theft, a physical altercation between the sexes and property damange to be "eventful."
Oh, yeah. And the Blue Jays were one game away from winning their first World Series title.
9:30 p.m.
• The better half and I have this ongoing joke where I call her a “ho.” (Don’t ask. It’s a LONG story.) Well, like many things, this joke has morphed over time. One of these changes came when I finally got her to watch Season 1 of “The Shield.” There is this storyline that carried for an episode or two where officers Dani and Gay Julian dealt with this love triangle: one fat white woman and two black guys. Basically, this chick was banging one guy then the next, and every time the officers went to that address for some domestic disturbance call, the gal was with a different guy. One time the cops were called out there because one of the guys spray-painted “ho” on the woman’s front door. But on the next call out there, when the guy who spray-painted “ho” suddenly became that woman’s squeeze for the day, in response to his earlier graffiti he spray-pained “s” and “e” to transform that derogatory term from “ho” to “shoe.” When Mrs. kkk saw this “shoe” scene, she bust out laughing, so now instead of calling her “ho,” in many instances I call her “shoe.” It’s all love talk. Anyway, today we went to a local Chinese buffet due to both of us having crazy days at work. While we were there, this family came in and was celebrating the birthday of one of their daughters. We knew this because the girl was wearing a paper crown on her head. On the crown it said, “Happy Birthday Mary” and below that it said, “little shoe.” We both laughed.
Oh, and that “Shield” storyline ended with one of the guys killing the other guy and chick … with a GUN!
• An organized crime chief can't afford to pay for car upkeep? Japan's economy must really suck.
Gee, I wonder how that bit got into the article? I liked the last part of the article.
So I guess Japan now needs to ban swords, knives, matches and gasoline in order for its citizens to feel really safe.
• Not only was Jersey’s governor not wearing a seatbelt in his recent accident, but also his SUV was going 91 mph. That’s funny.
I wonder if the law will treat Corzine the same way as it would a regular person who got into an accident going more than 30 mph over the speed limit and not wearing a seat belt?
• How about calling on distressed borrowers to not buy houses when they clearly can’t afford to make such an investment?
Oh, yeah. Because that would be mean.
7:30 p.m.
• So the "well it's only a matter of time" has struck again. Remember my out-of-control niece-in-law? Guess who has a bun in the oven?
And guess who gets drunk?
And guess who uses drugs?
And guess who goes to the methadone clinic?
The funniest thing about all this: I have no idea who the father is. Well, she's been living with this guy for a little while now, but that doesn't mean shit. This is the same person who got a cat, didn't have it fixed and didn't take it one time to the vet. About a week ago the cat got in heat and ran away. Maybe it knew something then.
• And who says there's a media bias? Note the bold-face type. Well, naturally, you should. After all, it's in bold-face. But I digress.
Oopsie, I deleted one little thing in the last paragraph. There we go...
Splintered? Conservative? It was a 7-2 vote! The same five red diaper doper babies that think it's OK for the government to take the private property of Private Party A and give it to Private Party B because Private Party B would use the land to generate more tax revenue took part in this decision. I shudder to think what would happen if several lawyers in robes were chosen by Osama or Hitlery. (Eh, I'm sure McCain wouldn't be much better.)
9 p.m.
• Remember back during the football season I said that I liked NBC's "Football Night in America"? Well, that may be put to the test this year.
Then again, I shouldn't let my right-wing bias taint this; I liked Keith when he was on SportsCenter. Actually, when he was on ESPN I always wondered what he would be like if he talked about things other than sports. Boy did I ever get my wish. Looks like Sterling's a no-go. He was one of my favorite players before he got hurt. What that has to do with his broadcasting ability I have no idea.
• OK, so the second paragraph made me laugh. And I'm a believer in the Madden curse. If I was a Charger fan and saw LT on the cover, I'd be scared. Very scared.
6:15 p.m.
• So this got me laughing today on my “Around the Horn/PTI” background-noise-during-dinner-hour spectacular. I guess Steve Spurrier doesn’t like the stars and bars on the South Carolina state flag.
Of course there was a near circle-jerk about what a great guy Steve is and all that, but I was thinking what if Spurrier came out and said he thought the flag should stay as is. Boy would today’s reactions be a different. As for me, I don’t care what Spurrier says about this issue; actually I don’t really care what anybody says about the confederate flag. I’m a hated Yankee.
• Regarding the whole Virginia Tech thing: From an AIM chat earlier today with everybody’s favorite SNL recapper.
Great. Now I get to hear libs go “OMG GUNS R EVIL~!” for the next few weeks. Too bad there weren’t any thuggish Miami Hurricane players there; they would have put two in that Jap’s head.
• The hell?
I don’t think the better half and I were with our H&R Block chick for even an hour this year.
Yesterday I wrote about my trip to Game 3 of the NLCS and what a magical experience it was. The next night I headed out to Game 4 with another friend in hopes the Pirates could tie the series up at two games apiece. We headed to Three Rivers Stadium without any problems, and we found our seats just fine. The problem was that the drunken asshole seated in the row above us found their seats; they also had been able to find the nearest booze stand as well. For the first few innings of the game things were harmless enough, then sometime around the third inning when the Pirates made a clutch hit or something (I forgot what it was) two of these drunks fell down onto me. Well, at least they didn’t throw up, even though my knees banged off the concrete and hurt like hell for a little while afterward.
After falling onto me, one of these assholes began verbally harassing me. Of course, for about 15 minutes I didn’t realize he was trying to get my attention. He finally had to tap me on my shoulder and say, “Hey, I’m talking to you.” Seeing how this guy weighed at least 75 pounds more than me and was drunk off his ass, I simply turned around and went back to watching the game; amazingly enough he stopped talking about the homosexual acts he wanted to do with me and turned his attention to someone of the opposite sex – this female Braves fan (and her boyfriend) in the row behind him. It was sometime around the fifth inning when I began to hear some escalated shouting from behind my row. I turned around and saw the drunken idiot standing up and getting in the faces of those two aforementioned Braves fans. Without missing a beat I nudged my friend and showed him the trouble that was about to ensue. We both stood up and moved away from our seats. As we did this, the drunk took a swing at the other guy’s girlfriend and the boyfriend responded in kind. Seconds after we left our seats and moved, these two guys came crashing onto our seats and proceeded to wrestle down at least a half-dozen other rows. Chaos then ensued and everybody who had been watching the game in our section suddenly stood up and watched this fight.
Oddly enough, the 90-year old “security guard” in our section wasn’t able to settle things down, and it took several ushers of considerable younger age, and muscle mass, to separate the two brawlers. I’m not sure what happened to the idiot behind me, but he and his friends didn’t return to their seats. Unfortunately, neither did the couple that was being harassed by an asshole that thought going to a ballgame meant getting liquored up and causing a disturbance. I know nothing probably happened to this asshole, but I always hoped the Braves couple sued him.
The rest of the evening was pretty uneventful. The Pirates lost and faced a three games to one deficit. Regrettably, I had the chance to purchase Game 5 tickets when I initially bought my Games 3 and 4 tickets, but I decided not to. The reason I regret this decision is because the Pirates took Game 5 thanks to a gutsy performance by pitcher Bob Walk. This guy wasn’t the most talented player out there, but he managed to find ways to win more times than naught. (Currently, he’s a Pirates broadcaster, or at least I still think he is one.) Thanks to another Wakefield performance in Game 6, the Pirates took this series to a Game 7, where they were just one out away from going to the World Series. Oh well, my other favorite team at the time, the Toronto Blue Jays, beat the Braves to win their fires-ever World Series title. And you know what? On the night the Jays won it all, my friend who was with me for Game 3 had a party at his house that got out of control, but that’s another story for another day – like say, tomorrow.
8:30 p.m.
• Why do I do this to myself? That’s right, because it’s funny as hell. So I decided to turn on “Baseball Tonight” and lo’ and behold who do I see on JACKIE ROBINSON DAY?
and
Oh yeah, this will be good.
I don’t know what I found to be funnier: the game highlights I saw where ESPN showed which players were wearing #42 on JACKIE ROBINSON DAY, or the stat they had featuring “black firsts” in baseball. What caught my eye wasn’t who was first black player, or the first black manager, or the first black general manager, or the first black umpire. It was the first all-black starting lineup, which, according to ESPN, was the 1971 Pirates. Wait a second, wasn’t Roberto Clemente, a Latino, a starter on that team? Time to go to my on-line baseball encyclopedia for an answer.
Now what’s a dirty Latino player doing on a supposedly all-black lineup? (There were probably other Latinos on this team, but I don’t care.) You mean to tell me that in this one instance in honor of JACKIE ROBINSON DAY we’re lumping in black baseball players with Latinos? But yet in recent weeks I’ve had to hear about how there are only NINE PERCENT black ballplayers in Major League Baseball while disregarding the large amount of Latinos engaged in America’s National Pastime. So grouping blacks and other minorities when gathering baseball stats for a specific political agenda is bad every other day of the year except on JACKIE ROBINSON DAY? Gotcha. Oh my God: C.C. Sabathia had a good outing today and when Berman was talking with this player ESPN was showing his stats for the day, and on the line below this information it read, “on JACKIE ROBINSON DAY.” So it looked something like this:
IP 8, H 5, R 1, ER 1, BB 3, SO 10, HR 0, ERA 2.14
On JACKIE ROBINSON DAY
There’s a headline on MLB's home page that reads: “Sabathia does Jackie proud on special day.” Berman also used a similar line when the Twins’ Torii Hunter successfully slid into home. I’m surprised ESPN didn’t target those players who DIDN’T wear #42 today.
5:30 p.m.
• In a somewhat related story to this morning's entry, the people who live to the left of the rusty mailbox pictured below had their trash out on the curb Thursday for our Friday morning pickup. When I came home from work Thursday, I noticed their garbage can was knocked over, probably due to the high winds, and being the good neighbor that I am I went over to put it right-side up. It was then that I noticed they don't tie up their garbage bags that well, if at all. Upon further review, I realized that to them "garbage bag" means "plastic bag you get at the grocery store." What the fuck is wrong with people? Half the time my cats don't cover up their poop when they use the litter, but they're cats. Actually, Dessa and JJ often try to cover up their business by either clawing on the side of the litter box or by scratching the wall next to the litter boxes. And Max will use half the litter in one of their boxes to cover up his bathroom deposit, which means half of that litter used ends up on the floor. At least he tries.
8:30 a.m.
• Long story short. There’s this old guy who lives across the street from me. His wife died a few months ago, and due to health problems he has to use a walker. Because he’s unable to go out and get mail from his mailbox down by the edge of his yard, he arranged it with the post office so that a mailman (fuck using the term "postal carrier") would deliver it to the mailbox by his front door. Well of course several times already my mailbox has had letters addressed to this guy, but that’s not a big surprise. There have been times in the past where I’ve received letters from other people on the block in my mailbox, and my neighbors have received letters addressed to me in their mailboxes. Considering the amount of mail the post office deals with on a daily basis, I try to cut this organization some slack where I can (although there are a number of things that I do like to bitch about regarding this organization).
On Wednesday I normally receive some local discount publication called a PennySaver in my mailbox. For those that don’t know, a PennySaver is like one of those "free bargain circulars" you find at a grocery story or Wal-Mart where people can pimp their used goods for free or for a nominal fee. I don’t read this thing, but it always shows up in my mailbox on Wednesdays. This past Wednesday it didn’t. No biggie, I thought. Because Easter Sunday was a holiday, perhaps the post office is working a day late or something due to the volume of mail it got (it's happened before, and it's perfectly understandable). Besides, I normally don’t get anything in the mail on Wednesdays anyway besides that PennySaver. On Thursday there was no mail. OK, this is a little odd. Thursday is also a slow mail day, but to not get any letters asking me re-finance my mortgage for TWO DAYS in a row? Something’s fishy. Friday: Yep, no mail. Now something is up. I made plans to call the post office Monday and find out what’s going on; I’m not even going to try and sort this out with a person who’s working at the post office on a Saturday. Trust me, if you have an issue with your local mail provider, DO NOT put your hopes in the staff workers who are there on a Saturday. That's like going to a Quickie Mart in order to complain to the third-shift employee about the poor customer service you received earlier that day.
This morning, I asked the better half if we got any mail and she said “nope.” Great. When I went out to get my Sunday newspaper, I pick up the same publication for my other neighbor who is also unable to get her mail. (She’s the wife of the now deceased groundhog-killing neighbor.) As I went to get her paper to put it on her doorstep I figured what the hell and looked into the mailbox of this vacant house across from my residence to see if the mailman put my mail in this piece of shit.
Oh you got to be kidding me.
Not only was my mail in there from the past few days, but there were also several letters addressed to that old guy I talked about in the first paragraph of this entry. And this is what our tax money is going toward? Hell, these people want to INCREASE postage yet again in order to pay for their employee’s bloated salaries and health benefits. Now you might be thinking to yourself, “kkk, maybe all the mailboxes on your street look alike. Maybe someone stole your mail and put it there.” I’m squashing these possibilities right now. The numerals to my street address are “239.” I have lived at this place since 2004. My mailbox’s look and its location haven't changed during this time. Also, included in this stack of mail is another flyer-thingy that I get every Friday, which gets folded up a particular way so that it surrounds my other correspondence for that day, too. If someone would have went through my mail for that day, the flyer would have been all out of whack and I could have been able to tell that someone was looking through my stuff. Finally, a while back my groundhog-killing neighbors had trouble with their mail delivery and they were finding their postal correspondence in the same dilapidated mailbox. And just to show you the difference between where the mailman is supposed to deliver my mail and where this government worker actually ended up doing so, here is a picture of my mailbox.
I hope the “239” isn’t tough for you to find. I guess the fact there isn’t another mailbox next to mine because my neighbor is supposed to have his mail delivered to him at his doorstep is throwing off the government worker. Then again, it was the POST OFFICE who told my neighbor that if he wanted his "doorstep" service, then he would have to take down his curb-side mailbox. OK, now here’s the mailbox I found my most of my recent correspondence in, along with that of my semi-shut-in neighbor.
And they want us to pay, starting in May of this year, 41 cents for sending out a first-class letter.
8:30 p.m.
• For those that frequent the other place. What that hell happened when I was away?
• So Barack Osama said something "clingy" about certain people...
So now Hitlery has pounced on this, and who suffers the most? Me. Because I have to watch shit like this every time my TV is turned on.
What's the difference between Hitlery and Osama on this issue? Osama was dumb enough to say it and have others hear him, even in friendly confines.
• From Smues' neck of the woods. Ever hear of these people?
9 p.m.
• You know, I generally side with so-called smokers' rights. However, I don't blame people for wanting smoking banned at beaches.
The few times I've been to the beach it was disgusting how many cigarette butts were all over the place.
• Man, who did the Rooneys piss off to get a schedule like this?
I can tend to be a bit cynical and negative at times when talking about various things, so I figured why not share a happy memory? No, this won’t be about my wedding or a recent holiday experience with my family – like I said, I want to talk about a joyous occasion.
Whenever a kid gets his or her driver’s license (I’m not talking about that hippie permit, I’m talking about the bona fide piece of plastic letting you drive by yourself) one of the first things they want to do is take a few friends and shoot off somewhere to cause havoc and mayhem. Well, my first experience with this passage into manhood took place back in 1992. Now before this time I went with friends on a number of trips to places such as amusement parks and parties/get-togethers, but it was always with someone else driving. This time I would be the person in charge of navigation. What was this trip, you ask? It was to Game 3 of the 1992 NLCS between the Pirates and the Braves.
Back a long time ago the Pirates were actually a good team with good players. Well, they were good until the postseason hit; that was when the Andy Van Slykes, Bobby Bonillas and Barry Bonds(s) of the world wouldn’t hit. The Pirates had lost in the NLCS the previous two years, and this year there wasn’t any reason for optimism. Sure the Bucs lost to a better Reds team in the 1990 NLCS, but they had a golden opportunity to advance to the ’91 World Series but lost to the Braves, at home, in Games 6 and 7. This year, the Braves had gotten better, and the Pirates lost several key members from their ’91 team, including Bonilla. There was no reason to think the Pirates would advance to the Series in ’92, and the first two games against the Braves didn’t leave much optimism for Pirate fans. However, even though the thought of going through another grueling summer of baseball only to see the home team come up short wasn’t too appealing for me, this year was going to be different. Why? Because I was going to go to Game 3 with one of my best friends at the time, and we were going to go unsupervised.
After school ended for the day, we engaged in the initiation of a high-school freshman we had wanted to duct tape to a telephone pole for some time, but that’s another story for another time. After this fun was over, we headed to Shittsburgh in my dad’s pick-up truck that he agreed to lend me for the weekend. We pulled into an underground parking lot and made our way to Three Rivers Stadium. Even though the Pirates got manhandled in the first two games at Atlanta, it was a pretty upbeat environment at the ballpark. You see, back in ’92 the Pirates had this “rookie” knuckleball pitcher that was an unexpected surprise for the team, going 8-1 his first year in the big leagues. Who was this newcomer that was scheduled to pitch in Game 3? Some of you BoSox fans might know him as Tim Wakefield.
When we got to our seats, the crowd, which had been criticized for being lackluster in size and noise, was near deafening even before the pre-game introductions. And when Wakefield retired the Braves in the first inning, the crowd went wild. Even when the Braves took an early 1-0 lead, there was something about this game that told everyone in attendance the Pirates were going to find a way to win. And after Wakefield got the last batter out for the 3-2 victory, every fan at the ballpark had this feeling that the Pirates had a chance in this series; they might not win, but they weren’t going to roll over and die in four or five games. And the best part of this experience is that my friend and I got to enjoy it all to ourselves -- no parents, no chaperone, no big siblings, just the two of us; this is probably the closest I’ve ever been to a Brokeback Moment.
Now even though I had my driver’s license, it was still only a Junior License, which meant I wasn’t allowed to be out on the road after midnight. Well, this game got finished pretty late, and the traffic was crazy when we got to the truck back in the underground parking lot. For a 16-year old who was driving his dad’s stick shift, I thought it would be in everybody’s best interest if my friend and I just sat in the truck and finished off the pizza we bought for dinner until the traffic lightened up. About 45 minutes passed and we decided now would be a good time to head out. By now it was after midnight and traffic was still heavy, but not nearly as congested as it was before. As I pulled out of the garage on the street a police officer on traffic patrol suddenly pointed to me and yelled at me to stop: my heart stopped – was I getting busted for driving after midnight? My friend wasn’t providing much comfort, saying out loud, “God damn pigs, why don’t that just leave us alone? Fucking cops.” When I rolled down my window, he informed me that my headlights weren’t on. With all that time spent in the lighted garage, my eyes got adjusted to the darkness and didn’t realize my need to turn on my headlights. I thanked the officer, elbowed my friend in the ribs for shooting his mouth off loud enough for me (but thankfully not the officer) to hear, and the rest of the trip home was without incident.
Game 3 of the 1992 NLCS was an experience I’ll never forget. I also went to Game 4 with another friend, and that experience was an unforgettable time as well, but for other reasons as I’ll share with you tomorrow.
So I was listening to some sports-talk radio yesterday when I heard a commercial featuring a sound clip from Toby Keith's new album and the following voice-over: “White Trash With Money is now at Wal-Mart.” Sounds like somebody got their tax refund check. It’s funny to hear all this Wal-Mart hate, because if this corporation was really despised that much, they wouldn’t make so much money. Unlike an EVIL~ corporation like, say Exxon, there are a lot more businesses in the retail industry than the fuel industry. Also, how much of a schmoe do you have to be to despise Wal-Mart and the way they do business but shop there in order to save 4 cents off a bottle of shampoo?
I’m not a Wal-Mart hater, but I’m trying to think back to the last time I did any shopping at one of these stores. After much thought and reflection, I’m pretty sure the last time I bought something from Wal-Mart was this pseudo-vacuum in November of 2005 for the basement. Why the reason for my “defiance” of this company that will soon take over the world? Location might have something to do with it, but an even bigger reason is that I don’t want to be around all the white and ghetto trash that populate these stores. Have you seen the people that shop there? Of course you have; it’s Wal-Mart, after all. I think the highlight for me was one time when this kid, who was a few fries short of a happy meal, was throwing a fit over something stupid (all kids do) and his redneck parents proceeded to scream at him louder than he was yelling at them. I love it when the kids win in these parents vs. children fights; always pull for the up-and-comer hick rather than the established white trash.
How could I forget this encounter? Years back I was in a Wal-Mart electronics department when this angry customer caught my attention. Because I love hearing what other people get pissed off about I lingered in the DVD section to hear his complaint. Was he upset because the store wouldn’t return a defective DVD even though he had a receipt? No. Did an employee tell him to “fuck off” when he asked the customer service representative to open the locked video game case? Don’t think so. Here is what the problem was: This guy recently bought a regular television set – wasn’t flat screen, High-Def, Plasma or anything like that; just a regular TV. Well, apparently he wanted to return the television because he wasn’t satisfied with it; he gave no specific reason. However, instead of getting another television of equal or lesser value, he wanted one that was about $200 more expensive. No, he didn’t want to exchange his old television for the new one and pay the difference, he wanted the more expensive set for FREE. Of course, the poor teen-age clerk didn’t know what to say. Many people hear stories of stupid customers and think they can prepare themselves for the encounter, but when they actually experience this stupidity, many times they are like a deer in headlights. Well, after 2-3 managers were called in, nothing was resolved. The guy was getting more and more pissed and the employees had no idea what to do about the situation. That’s when the customer said something that got him into my Stupid Customer Hall of Fame on the first ballot: “Wal-Mart guarantees customer satisfaction!” I burst out laughing and had to walk away because I couldn’t take any more. I’m not sure how this incident got resolved, but if the guy did get new television, hopefully he was standing in a bucket of water while trying to figure out the best outlet to plug in his new prize.
I guess I shouldn't be too hard on the people that frequent Wal-Mart. After all, going there and seeing the dregs of society can really boost your spirits if you're feeling a bit down on yourself. Seeing how I haven’t had to get my fix in some time, I guess I’m doing pretty well with myself.
1 p.m.
• Guess the bird's biological clock was ticking.
12:30 p.m.
• So last night I was watching the NHL playoffs on Versus and I heard that the NHL reseeds its playoff tree every round, making my playoff predictions from a few days ago a moot point. What kind of hippie shit is this? I have no idea when the NHL started doing this. They could have done this from the get-go back when they went from divisional opponents for the first two rounds to conference seedings; I've said that I don't pay much attention to this kind of stuff. Since I'm on the subject, I don't like the automatic reseeding. Having just learned the NHL does this, it appers the NBA doesn't. Good. There's just something lame about reshuffling playoff brackets after each round. Let the chips fall where they may. If a conference's top seed has to play a fourth-seeded team while the second-seeded team gets to play a six-seeded team, then so be it.
Nevertheless, here are my reseeded playoff picks. My first-round picks and comments are unchanged from my first entry.
(1) Buffalo v. (8) NY Islanders – that one guy from Edmonton got traded over to New York for a playoff push and cried. Buffalo’s good. Buffalo in 5.
(2) New Jersey v. (7) Tampa Bay – Martin Brodeur is still doing his thing. It’s nice to have a good goalie this time of year. Devils in 5.
(3) Atlanta v. (6) NY Rangers – I have no clue who is on Atlanta’s team. The Rangers have Jagr. Rangers in 6.
(4) Ottawa v. (5) Shittsburgh – I’ve heard some sports people say this could be the best first-round series of the lot. Uh, yay. Ottawa never seems to win in the postseason. The Penguins haven’t been to the postseason for a few years. I dunno. Senators in 7.
(1) Detroit v. (8) Calgary – I’m sure Detroit’s pissed at losing in the first round last year. Detroit in 5.
(2) Anaheim v. (7) Minnesota – I have nothing. Ducks in 6.
(3) Vancouver v. (6) Dallas – Mike Modano is still playing? Sweet. Stars in 6.
(4) Nashville v. (5) San Jose – The Sharks got Joe Thornton last season from the Bruins. Wait a second, Nashville traded for Petr Forsberg this year. Nashville in 7.
Second Round:
(1) Buffalo beats (6) Rangers in 5.
(4) Ottawa beats (2) Jersey in 6.
(1) Detroit beats (6) Dallas in 5.
(4) Nashville beats (2) Anaheim in 7.
Third Round.
(1) Buffalo beats (4) Ottawa in 5.
(4) Nashville beats (1) Detroit in 7.
Stanley Cup.
(1) Buffalo beats (4) Nashville in 6.
Wow, my playoff tree has changed quite a bit. Do I think this will happen? Probably not. But if it does, I can come back to this and go, "OMG do you see how lame reseeding is?"
9:15 a.m.
• This joke is too easy, even for me.
• The better half went to her niece’s talent show last night. Why didn’t I go? Figure it out. Actually, I did ponder tagging along, but then I heard tickets had to be reserved in advance. On top of that, there was a fight at the in-laws’ house before the show when the brother-in-law told the mother-in-law she needs to throw out the meth-addict niece-in-law. And people wonder why I stay home.
Anyway, from what I heard of this “talent show,” I was first encouraged by the state of my local government school. Apparently, there was these two girls who went up and sang a song about JESUS CHRIST~! Good for the school for allowing this to happen. I’m just curious to know if any faggot parents are going to complain about this egregious violation of church/state separation, because you know that if one student out of 100+ sings about Jesus, that means the school will be forcing the children to read hymns the next day. While I give a thumbs up for letting two kids sing about religion, I then heard what else happened at this government school.
No talent act was to be more than two minutes. TWO MINUTES? And just what would have happened if some kid went over their allotted time – a big cane moves across the stage and yanks him or her off by the neck? They also gave trophies for all the participants at the end of the show. Now I’m not going to go “OMG everybody’s a winner/no competition will make our kids spoiled” over this, because the eternal optimist in me is hoping these were just fancy certificates of participation or something. However, trophies?
My old man likes to tell a story of my one little-league team (well, actually it was the league before little-league, where the coaches pitched to the kids, but whatever) where in the end-of-season tournament we played like a well-oiled machine against this other team and crushed them. We were destined for great things, like winning the division title, or whatever the hell it was. Then our team had to sit and watch as the opponents we just whipped got to receive their near-last-place trophies. According to my old man, everyone on my team went, “What? They got trophies?” and we tanked the next game, getting our “You don’t suck as bad as the first-round losers” trophies to display in our rooms. From there, my baseball career went rapidly downhill, and my old man would never have dreams of being parent to a major-league ballplayer. Gone were his dreams of sitting at Three Rivers Stadium/PNC Park yelling from the bleachers at me because I was putting too much weight on my left foot when I swung at off-speed pitches.
6 p.m.
• So the better half wanted to look up the review to some game called Looney Tunes: Acme Arsenal. I told her where to go to the site I always go to for reviews, but she "couldn't find it." OK. So I went to my favorites list, clicked the link and entered in the game's name. As I got up from the computer chair, she asked, "Where are you going?" My response. "Here's the site -- just pick what reviews you want to look at." Her response. "I thought you were going to read them, too."
...
Speaking of which, anybody know of any PS2 games out there that are similar to the Baldur's Gate: Dark Alliance and Champions of Norrath titles?
Swift Terror brought up the Cincinnati riots in his blog entry today, and man were those some fun times (this event took place in 2001, for those keeping score at home). After a black teen got shot by the PO-lice during a midnight chase, some of the more sophisticated folk in Cincinnati decided to frolic and engage in springtime activities like breaking into stores and assaulting innocents. I guess this was in retribution for the PO-lice killing 15 black guys over the period of several years. Of course, all but two or three of these PO-lice shootings involved these poor young men walking down the street. Did I say "walking down the street"? I meant "shooting at the PO-lice" or "assaulting them with a vehicle or some other life-threatening attack." Although the riots took place years ago, there are a few things that have stayed with me. The first is the image of some young thugs assaulting this old guy in his car. Of course, when the youths were caught they were charged with “ethnic intimidation.” Uh, if this is not a HATE CRIME then what is? Oh, wait, the old guy was with his wife, so he wasn’t gay, and he certainly wasn’t black, although he was black-and-blue after the scuffle.
Oh, here’s another oldie but goldie that’s been tucked in the back of my memory for some time. On WKRC’s crappy morning show they brought on some idiot professor from the University of Cincinnati to talk about the riots. The professor started out saying something like, “The problem here is that the PO-lice are out killing YOUNG BLACK MALES.” The conservative host of this morning duo then called the prof on his line of bullshit, basically repeating what I said in the paragraph above about how in nearly all the cases the PO-lice were being shot at or attacked. Without missing a beat, the prof replied, “That’s true, and we must be careful not to use inflammatory rhetoric.” It was at that point I started screaming at the radio while driving to work on I-71.
Did I mention that the New York Slimes called the riots “civil disobedience"? I better add that in here before I forget.
In addition, shortly after this incident some hippie activist group started up an exhibit at the Cincinnati Museum. I don’t remember much about the exhibit, but I’ll never forget the ribbons they were peddling. You see, this exhibit dealt with DIVERSITY, or some shit like that, and if you bought a ribbon then you cared about DIVERSITY. So far so good, I guess -- if you’re into that sort of thing. Oh, but here’s the good part. When you bought your ribbon for DIVERSITY, you got a certain color of ribbon based on YOUR SKIN COLOR. Nothing says "unity" like segregated unity ribbons.
One final note to this story: I remember hearing various idiots saying that the PO-lice and government in general are out to kill YOUNG BLACK MALES. Well, if that’s the case, they’re doing a pretty shitty job of it. I mean crack and AIDS were introduced in the inner-cities to wipe out the black population 20+ years ago, and these people are STILL around; glad to see my tax dollars are being put to great use. I’ve always contended that if you want anything done right you need to go to the private sector. Hell, I might even consider hiring illegals to get this job done – after they mow my lawn, of course.
7 p.m.
• If you haven’t read today’s comment section, it looks like one of Vern’s cats will probably be passing away soon. It’s always a sad feeling when one of your pets dies, especially if he/she/it has been part of your life for a long time. Even though my three aren’t quite ready for the old feline's home, they are starting to get up there in age. Dessa is 8, JJ is 7. And while Max is probably only 4 or 5 years old, he has a few conditions that will probably shorten his life. As I’ve said before, back in 2004 our household had one kitty by the name of Shadow who died after we took him in as a stray just three years prior. While he was just with us for only a short time, he more than made his fair share of memories in our household, including this one I talked about last year.
And yes, the guy Shadow clawed up is the same “Mr. Sterile” that’s in line for a promotion to full-time janitor.
With all that being said, here are some pics of Shadow, which were taken when we lived in Ohio.
The last image when Shadow is telling JJ to step off is probably my favorite one of him, and it brings to mind a funny story. When we first moved back to Pennsylvania, we rented a duplex from my hero who employs his daughter at a shit wage and charges her rent for living in his basement apartment. Our duplex had a pretty large unfinished basement, and this was a popular hangout for Dessa, JJ and Shadow. JJ would always go down there and cry, which meant he wanted some company from his little brother. Sure enough, within seconds, Shadow would head on down to their clubhouse. Of course, many times they would end up wrestling down there, and let's just say JJ is more a lover than a fighter, which is funny because he is quite powerful (especially when he's trying to get away during his bathtime). Pretty soon the better half and I would hear JJ shrieking and screaming from the basement, and when we’d make our way downstairs JJ and Shadow would be in a stand-off with both tails puffed out and mounds of gray (read: JJ’s) fur on the floor. Dessa, of course, would have to see what was going on, and this always resulted in more growling/hissing (Dessa has never cared much for her brothers, no matter who they were). After a few squirts of a water bottle, everyone would scatter like roaches from light. Of course, minutes later JJ would go back down in the basement and start crying once again. And sure enough, we’d then see Shadow scamper across the living room on his way back to their very own Fight Club.
Hope this helps, Vern.
11 a.m.
• Well I hope they bring this asshole to justice.
The GOVERNOR was probably not wearing his seat belt?! I certainly hope he has to pay the fine associated with this intentional law-breaking. Click-it or Ticket, buddy. It's bad enough the esteemed governor of my state takes my nickname of "Fast Eddie" to a whole new level...
... and now we have another official wanting us to do as they say and not as they do.
7:30 p.m.
• So you mean to tell me you fuckin with a bald-headed, ol' fat, lumpy, droopy, crack baby look-a-like, cisco drinkin, loud, ignorant, fucked-up teeth, stank hoodrat, won't down, once-a-month bleedin, butthead swap-meet, AFDC, leaned-over tennis shoe, cigarette BUTT baggin bitch? Nigga what's wrong wit you?
6:45 p.m.
• LOL
Wait ... what?!?!
You got to be shitting me. Crystal Gail Mangum won't be facing chargers. Just who does Crystal Gail Mangum think she is? That's right, a psycho bitch that will hopefully, by year's end, be found dead in a ditch covered with blood and cum stains with enough different DNA samples that could fill Madison Square Garden.
6:30 p.m.
• OK, before anyone assumes otherwise, let me assure you – I AM NOT MAKING THIS SHIT UP.
Before I begin, we need to take a time machine back to last July when I said the following. Let’s set the scene. I was at a cookout of the family of a friend of the better half. OK, here we go:
The other night we got an update on this loving couple. I’ll call the wife “Amy” and the husband “Dave.” Late last week, when Amy got her most recent bi-weekly paycheck, she went to deposit it at an ATM. When her deposit slip shot out, she noticed that the account was $600 overdrawn – and that was AFTER she made her deposit. Naturally, she was more than curious as to what was going on. She got a transaction sheet and noticed that there was a really, really big withdraw to the account that went to pay off a credit card this couple owns. She got a transaction record of this credit card and discovered the following.
1) A bill for a round-trip airline ticket to and from Australia.
2) A bill for two a two-week stay at a nearby hotel.
Figure it out.
Needless to say, Amy is getting a divorce attorney. Oh, and Amy just found out that Dave quit his job in November and they have been without health insurance for the last four months. Did I mention Amy is a diabetic? Now while I could understand to some degree Amy not knowing right away about her lesser half’s employment situation – she works a first-shift job while Dave’s job was second-shift, so he could just leave the house and shack up with chicks from Down Under until his make-believe shift was over – I can’t for the life of me wonder how she couldn’t notice something was odd when his PAYCHECKS weren’t BEING DEPOSITED in their BANK ACCOUNT. But whatever, it’s not my life.
Oh, yeah. When Amy confronted Dave on all of this, his only response so far has been to accuse Mrs. kkk’s friend of trying to break them up. How was the better half’s friend doing this? By going out socially with Amy and trying to hook her up with guys. How dare these two bitches go out in public.
But you want to know my favorite part of this story? Let me go back to last year’s entry.
Due to her recent life situation, Amy has moved in with the better half’s friend. And what is the father of Mrs. kkk’s friend doing? He’s increasing his daughter's rent by $200 per month. Have I mentioned lately how much in awe am I of this guy?
SfaJack unknowingly opened up a can of worms with his comment in yesterday’s entry when he asked if I ever visited or plan to visit PNC Park. My answers? No, and fuck no. I bitched a bit about the way PNC Park was built a while back in my entry concerning local newspapers, but too bad; I’m now going to bitch some more.
The time was the early- to mid-1990s, and the Steelers and Pirates were playing at Three Rivers Stadium, a structure that when originally built in the 1970s was supposed to be the future of how stadiums were to be constructed, what with that futuristic-looking field turf and the ability for baseball AND football games to be played at the same site. Now I never had any problems with Three Rivers Stadium, but then again I didn’t have to play on that crappy Astroturf. In fact, I have quite a few memories from that place which I’ll probably share in an upcoming entry, and none of them dealt with how pretty the stadium looked.
The early- to mid-1990s was around the time when major-league franchises began extorting, err, telling their home cities that if they didn’t build them a new, state-of-the-art stadium or arena that the team would pack up and move to another city; Shittsburgh was experiencing this craze with both the Pirates and Steelers demanding new fields. These threats brought about a hippie referendum that went on the ballot in seven counties in and around the Shittsburgh area in 1997. The referendum was whether or not you approved of a one-half-of-one-percent tax to fund regional projects, which included of course new stadiums for the Pirates and Steelers (never mind the fact that a few years prior the region had implemented a tax for, [shock!] regional development, which included the area of sports facilities).
I’ve mentioned in the past that the liberal Shittsburgh Post-Gazette was all up on the nuts of the proposed tax increase, and for months this publication told us yokels how great this new tax would be, adding that if this measure wasn’t approved, the Pirates would move to a city like Raleigh, N.C., with the Steelers soon to follow. My favorite piece of media hysteria came a week or so before this vote when the Gazette ran an editorial that was supposed to be “the day after the Pirates moved to North Carolina,” where we got to learn of what a huge mistake all “no” voters were making. It was great fun to watch the voter backlash when this referendum crashed and burned in every county it was voted on. In the months leading up to this vote, we were constantly told how there was no “Plan B;” that this vote was “all or nothing” and would “deicide the future of (S)hittsburgh for years to come.” Oddly enough, after this vote, the local government found other ways of funding these stadiums. What was this measure called? Why, it was called “Plan B!”
Besides the pro-tax media acting like Chicken Little, the Pirates were also whining about the condition of Three Rivers Stadium, saying that with a sub par stadium they couldn’t financially compete with Major League Baseball’s bigger-market teams. The Pirates said that with a lack of luxury boxes, among other cash streams not available to them thanks to a crappy stadium, they couldn’t keep players like Barry Bonds and Bobby Bonilla, who at the time had both recently left for greener pastures. Why, if a new stadium was built, then the Pirates could be competitive again!
So against the will of the voters, the Pirates and Steelers got their new stadiums. And to this day I have refused to set foot in PNC Park or Heinz Field. Now considering people will their waiting list number for season tickets to their next of kin, I think my self-imposed boycott of Heinz Field games won’t be much of a problem. The Pirates are another matter. It’s been almost 10 years since the Pirates moved into PNC Park, and where are they now? For this team a good season is not losing 95 games. For this team a high payroll is more than $50 million. In fact, the Pirates are making a big deal because they increased their payroll this year, which makes them the fourth-lowest payroll in the big leagues. Sorry, but I refuse to pay major-league prices for a minor-league product. It’s like buying a leather recliner, a big-screen television with surround sound and watching a movie on a 30 year-old VHS tape. I must admit though that one time I almost caved into going to this den of evil, but that’s because my one friend from out of town was coming for a visit and expressed interested in attending a Pirate game. Fortunately, they were on the road for that week. The things I do for my friends.
Ironically, there is now talk of building a new arena for the Penguins, and the mood is quite different from back in the mid-‘90s. It’s funny because out of the three new structures: Heinz Field, PNC Park and a new arena, the arena would probably get the most use year-round. Yet politicians are dragging their feet regarding this issue. There’s currently some debate going on about having soon-to-be casino slots revenue go to pay for some costs of building a new arena, but that’s a whole other topic for a whole other blog entry. And despite the Penguins seriously contemplating moving to another city, there is a blip of the same media panic-mongering, if any at all.
Thanks, Sfa, for getting me inspired enough to bitch about the most expensive minor-league baseball stadium in America.
• Sure many Hollywood types are idiots when trying to espouse political viewpoints, but Michael Keaton is A-OK with me. I’m sure the guy’s a commie, but when it comes to sports, he’s a true Pirate “Bat-fan” – LOL-ONE-WIN-IN-EIGHT-GAMES. Before Keaton threw out the first pitch to the Pirates first home loss of the baseball season (and seventh overall), he stood in front of some news cameras and ragged on Pirate management, saying that ownership isn’t spending enough money on good players and taking the fans for granted. Ahahahaha. So the guy selected to throw out the first pitch for a new season – the ALL-STAR season – rags on the organization beforehand. Like I said before, God I love this team.
• Speaking of things I’ve said before, a while back I made some remarks about the alleged rape of a stripper by members of the Duke Lacrosse team. Like I said when the story broke, when it comes to rape allegations, if it’s a recent accusation, I’ll sit back and wait until more evidence presents itself. Well, more evidence did, or should I say, didn't show up. Gotta love the ol’ DNA test. Shit like this is part of the reason why I don’t bother with strippers or “exotic dancers.” The closest I ever came to this sort of thing was when a few of my friends chipped in and ordered a stripper to my one friend’s residence (I chose not to partake in this because I'd rather spend money on myself at the mall and oogle chicks there for free). From what I heard, the chick’s bodyguard threatened everyone there that if they even laid a finger on her she would leave and he would beat the shit out of all of them (from what my friends told me, he could have). So when the dancer did her thing, most of the spectators were shaking, due in part to the threats of physical harm, not to mention the inexperience many of them had in dealing with near-naked women.
• What the hell happened to Brad Pitt? No, he didn’t get a beer belly overnight. What I’m talking about deals more with his mental state than physical state. And no I’m also not talking about him dumping Jennifer Aniston for someone who Billy Bob Thorton stuck his dick into repeated times. (Actually, I do respect Angelina Jolie for her goodwill work; it's a shame she has to be affiliated with an organization as evil as the United Nations.) I remember back when Pitt did that “Seven Years in Tibet” movie he was asked by Time Magazine about his opinion on the whole China/Taiwan issue (or a similar topic dealing with that movie) and Pitt said something like “I’m just a fucking actor; I don’t know anything about that situation.” Now, years, later I read this:
Oh well, at least they’re not naming their kids (real or adopted) after fruit, although former NFL quarterbacks can’t be much bettet. However, if they named the kid "Garcia" they would get the best of both worlds: a fruity quarterback.
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
5 p.m.
• So I was about to make the old "well at least she didn't blame thison the brake pedal sticking," but then I found that this joke has already been spent. No matter.
• Ice went to jail for PUSHING a bitch?
Ahh, now the truth comes out.
Then why isn't she in jail for lying? There are time I feel bad for women -- like when disgusting men hit on them for no reason whatsoever (and no, this isn't from personal experience). However, all a chick has to do is accuse some guy of abusing her and it's off to the slammer.
Now time for some more news stuff...
Now we get the background on V-Ice, which is common for many stories involving public figures.
But here's the best part.
Anyone remember buying those tape/CD singles back in the '90s? Memories.
6 p.m.
• The NHL playoffs are just hours away, so it’s time to make some pickkks. Let’s see, the only NHL players I recognize are those that played in the early 1990s. Oh this should be fun.
(1) Buffalo v. (8) NY Islanders – that one guy from Edmonton got traded over to New York for a playoff push and cried. Buffalo’s good. Buffalo in 5.
(2) New Jersey v. (7) Tampa Bay – Martin Brodeur is still doing his thing. It’s nice to have a good goalie this time of year. Devils in 5.
(3) Atlanta v. (6) NY Rangers – I have no clue who is on Atlanta’s team. The Rangers have Jagr. Rangers in 6.
(4) Ottawa v. (5) Shittsburgh – I’ve heard some sports people say this could be the best first-round series of the lot. Uh, yay. Ottawa never seems to win in the postseason. The Penguins haven’t been to the postseason for a few years. I dunno. Senators in 7.
(1) Detroit v. (8) Calgary – I’m sure Detroit’s pissed at losing in the first round last year. Detroit in 5.
(2) Anaheim v. (7) Minnesota – I have nothing. Ducks in 6.
(3) Vancouver v. (6) Dallas – Mike Modano is still playing? Sweet. Stars in 6.
(4) Nashville v. (5) San Jose – The Sharks got Joe Thornton last season from the Bruins. Wait a second, Nashville traded for Petr Forsberg this year. Nashville in 7.
Second Round:
Buffalo beats Ottawa in 6.
Jersey beats Rangers in 4.
Detroit beats Nashville in 7.
Anaheim beats Dallas in 5.
Third Round.
Jersey beats Buffalo in 7.
Detroit beats Anaheim in 6.
Stanley Cup.
Detroit beats Jersey in 6.
Can’t wait to see how off I am with these.
1 p.m.
• Don't you know that distributing hot cross buns is one of the worst things you can do to Muslim male?
Uh, um. Well, I guess it's not. One a penny, two a penny, hot cross buns.
11:30 a.m.
• Not allowing a Coretta Scott King portrait at the Georgia State Capitol. It's a lot like Hitler Imus.
10 a.m.
• Top 10 reasons why there are no black NASCAR drivers:
#10 - Have to sit upright while driving.
#9 - Pistol won't stay under front seat.
#8 - Engine noise drowns out the rap music.
#7 - Pit crew can't work on car while holding up pants at the same time.
#6 - They keep trying to carjack Dale Earnhardt Jr.
#5 - Police cars on track interfere with race.
#4 - No passenger seat for the Ho.
#3 - No Cadillacs approved for competition.
#2 - When they crash their cars, they bail and run.
#1 - They can't wear their helmets sideways.
8:30 p.m.
• So it looks like there was one talent "the stars" had.
I don't care for much of reality TV outside of "Cops" and other videos of blacks and rednecks getting beat down. That doesn't mean I hate the genre, though. For some sick reason the better half and I have seen a number of Vh1's "Rock of Love" shows this past season, although I think it's more for the train wreck factor than desired viewing. Ugh, as I type, she's got "Survivor" on downstairs.
• Maybe all the protests about the Olympic torch headed to China isn't about the country's crackdown on Tibet and people that like to do yoga in public.
Oh lord...
• I’m not a big Brett Favre fan, but then again I don’t hate him like some other people I know. However, this whole “Will I or won’t I retire?” saga is getting on my nerves, and I’m not even talking about this past weekend’s incident with the faux news conference. While the NFL is notorious for cutting players who have shown a particular team loyalty for years, Favre is one of those few exceptions who should get to call it quits when he wants. However, that doesn’t mean he should screw his team over by not letting them know if he will be back for another season or two. I get it, Brett. You won the Pack a title, and came close other times with your numerous postseason appearances. You helped turn Green Bay into “Title Town” again, at least for one year back in the ‘90s. But the Packers also provided you with a comfortable lifestyle. For as much as you did for the Packers, the Packers did the same for you. I’m sure it would feel horrible to go out the way you and your team played last year, but if it’s taking you this long to decide on whether or not to give this NFL thing another go that’s a pretty obvious sign that it’s time to hang up the cleats.
• Here’s something that’s been bugging me this young baseball season. While some teams enjoyed opening day last week in their home stadium, it took almost a week for some teams to play their first home game. It is famously said that in baseball everyone has a chance at winning the World Series on opening day. Well, by the time the Pirates lost 8-3 in their home opener this afternoon, they already lost six of their first seven road games. Pirate fans (at least the ones remaining) have 161 other games to see how awful their team is; can’t they get their first home game when they’re only 1-2 games out of first, giving those at PNC Park the chance to dream of pennant races and division titles?
• So illegal immigrants are at it again with protests, or whatever the hell those things are supposed to be (well that explains why that head of lettuce was $10 at the market today). I said this before, but it bears repeating. If these illegals want to “show us” how valuable they are by not working the jobs Americans don't want to work, let’s make it a fair exchange. For the day that these people walk out of work, let’s refuse any kind of social services to people who can’t prove that they are an American citizen. If you won’t pick lettuce in the fields or clean hotel rooms, then you don’t get the emergency room health care and state tuition assistance. Sounds fair to me.
• So my favorite Maury Povich “Who is the baby’s daddy?” couple was on today. This black chick claimed this guy with six fingers (one grew out of his pinky, or something like that) was the father of her crumb snatcher. The accused claims he’s not the father, and that she’s just after the “number one draft pick” who is "230 PERCENT SURE" he’s not the daddy. Even though he was exonerated after the test results came back, the best was yet to come. When Maury told the chick they could help her find who the real daddy is she said that she had a list of FIVE OTHER POSSIBLE FATHERS. I don’t watch these shows all that often, but you can’t get any better than a show that has a title like “I have three kids, and I’m not sure if you’re the father of all of them.”
KKK's Top 103 Posters
Number 31: Meatwad
When it comes to smart-ass replies, you can’t beat my Meat. I don’t think this chap likes me very much, but fuck it; this isn’t kkk’s Top 103 Posters That Like Him. If that was the case, my list would have to be whittled down quite a bit. But this is kkk’s Top 103 Posters, and important subjects like this can't be taken lightly. Sure he hates the term “better half,” which would probably put me in his doghouse just as if he hated the words "hippie," "commie" and "I like it in my ass fast and hard." He also has a never-ending arsenal of quips regarding my frugality. But here’s what I like about Meat: When he makes fun of you, he usually does a good job, as shown here at the other place. Oh well, it may have done nothing for you, but it made me laugh. And in the end that’s all what really matters now, isn’t it?
And now a word or three from the expert panel I've assembled to comment on the people I've listed.
From Black Lushus:
From Carnival:
From Cancer Marney:
8:15 p.m.
• cBS, lol.
8 p.m.
• Over in Smues’ blog, he references a little brouhaha regarding Jackson Hewitt and their Jewing the government out of some cash. A few days back I was thinking of posting this story because I had an experience with these people a few years back but I didn’t feel like typing it out. Now I do.
Back in Ohio I didn’t feel like doing my taxes one year so I decided to go to one of these tax places and just get it over with; previously I had just used TurboTax when it went on sale for $2, which also included a bunch of rebates. But I didn’t care this year; I just wanted to plop down and be told by some temp accountant how much I overpaid the government. I thought it would be that easy, yes. No.
When I came in to the Jackson Hewitt store, I was assigned to this black guy who was gong to give me the hook up, or something like that. This guy was a dickhead to me the whole time, with condescending remarks concerning my desire not to donate $1 to the hippie public election fund thingy, along with a few other similar stupid issues. When it came time to do the actual transaction, he got a confused look on his face and told me that I couldn’t file because I needed to provide a copy of last year’s return. Wha-? Yeah. Exactly. He told me that I needed to provide him with all this other information, and with that I left, went straight to the nearest big-box retail store to get TurboTax. When I got home, this guy left a message on my answering machine saying that I didn’t need all that other information and that if I returned we could file my return. Well I did file my return the next day, but I did it in the comfort of my residence.
And while I’m on this subject, I HATE hearing people bitch about having to file their taxes this time of year. You get W-2s and all that other shit in January/February. You have more than TWO MONTHS to do this. Have there been years when I filed on April 15? Yes. Did I bitch about having to do this? No. Know what I did? I FILED EARLIER THE NEXT YEAR. Actually, I’m lying. It took me a couple of years to get my lazy ass in gear. Sometimes it takes me a while to let it sink in. Ain’t nothing wrong with that as long as you know you’re a fuck up.
11:30 a.m.
• I don't frequent the wrestling folders here, so it may already be a "hot topic" at TSM, but I heard this on Atlanta's WSB-AM this morning and had to laugh.
And, regarding the third-to-last paragraph, WSB has been noting that Gilberti used to wrestle in WCW as "Disco Inferno." I guess the only thing worse than being known as the "guy who used to be the Disco wrestler" is when the media don't consider what you used to do for a living, in a profession where publicity is critical, as newsworthy.
8 p.m.
• Well, today was my big b-day celebration. Even though I don’t turn the big 3-1 until later in the week, the better half insisted that we do all this birthday shit today because next Sunday would be Easter. So I got my gifts: South Park Season 9 DVD and Ron White’s “You Can’t Fix Stupid” DVD. Not sure why I got the White DVD, but she said that I told her one time he was my favorite out of the four Blue Collar comedians. Uh, OK then. After that it was onto Red Lobster for my yearly ultimate feast. The reason we only go to this place once a year on my birthday is because 1) Mrs. kkk hates seafood, and 2) Mrs. kkk can’t watch me eat shellfish. Frankly, I don’t blame her; it’s not a pretty sight. Exciting stuff, I know.
• With the MLB season starting up, many people are giving their predictions. I might as well bust out mine, too. There was a TSM thread started up a while back where people got to pick the over/under on how many games each team will win this season, so I guess that makes sense to do. As an added twist, I challenged that fraud pseudo-baseball expert that uses my oh-so-clever name when commenting on America’s National Pastime. I’m going to post my picks, followed by his, and when the regular season wraps up we’ll see who has the last laugh … bitch.
Please note I haven’t bothered to follow any baseball news this off-season (I barely follow it during the regular season), and the only transactions I know are this: The Red Sox got some Jap, and the Angles paid a lot of money for some guy who was just busted for roids. All the picks that we will differ on will be boldfaced in my selections.
Al kkk-eiper’s picks:
Arizona Diamondbacks 77.5 UNDER
Atlanta Braves 81.5 OVER
Baltimore Orioles 73.5 UNDER
Boston Red Sox 90.5 OVER
Chicago Cubs 85.5 UNDER Now that Racist Dusty is gone, I’m rooting for the Cubs to win the World Series. Well, first they have to be mediocre.
Chicago White Sox 86.5 OVER
Cincinnati Reds 76.5 UNDER
Cleveland Indians 84.5 UNDER
Colorado Rockies 74.5 OVER
Detroit Tigers 87.5 UNDER
Florida Marlins 78.5 UNDER
Houston Astros 78.5 OVER
Kansas City Royals 67.5 UNDER
Los Angeles Angels 89.5 UNDER
Los Angeles Dodgers 88.5 OVER
Milwaukee Brewers 81.5 UNDER
Minnesota Twins 83.5 UNDER
New York Mets 88.0 OVER
New York Yankees 97.0 UNDER
Oakland Athletics 84.5 OVER
Philadelphia Phillies 88.5 UNDER
Pittsburgh Pirates 71.5 UNDER But they played .500 ball the second half of the season!!! But they’re hosting the ALL-STAR GAME~!!! Wait, that was last year.
San Diego Padres 84.0 OVER
San Francisco Giants 81.5 OVER
Seattle Mariners 75.5 UNDER
St Louis Cardinals 84.5 OVER
Tampa Bay Devil Rays 67.0 UNDER
Texas Rangers 81.5 UNDER
Toronto Blue Jays 86.5 UNDER
Washington Nationals 66.5 OVER
Al I’m-a-fraud-Keiper’s picks:
Arizona Diamondbacks 77.5 OVER
Atlanta Braves 81.5 OVER
Baltimore Orioles 73.5 OVER
Boston Red Sox 90.5 OVER
Chicago Cubs 85.5 UNDER
Chicago White Sox 86.5 UNDER
Cincinnati Reds 76.5 OVER
Cleveland Indians 84.5 OVER
Colorado Rockies 74.5 OVER
Detroit Tigers 87.5 UNDER
Florida Marlins 78.5 UNDER
Houston Astros 78.5 UNDER
Kansas City Royals 67.5 OVER
Los Angeles Angels 89.5 OVER
Los Angeles Dodgers 88.5 UNDER
Milwaukee Brewers 81.5 OVER
Minnesota Twins 83.5 OVER
New York Mets 88.0 OVER
New York Yankees 97.0 UNDER
Oakland Athletics 84.5 OVER
Philadelphia Phillies 88.5 UNDER
Pittsburgh Pirates 71.5 OVER
San Diego Padres 84.0 UNDER
San Francisco Giants 81.5 UNDER
Seattle Mariners 75.5 UNDER
St Louis Cardinals 84.5 OVER
Tampa Bay Devil Rays 67.0 OVER
Texas Rangers 81.5 OVER
Toronto Blue Jays 86.5 UNDER
Washington Nationals 66.5 UNDER
Now we’ll see who the real baseball expert is and who is talking out of his ass. You know, I think I'll take all my over/unders and see how they look when I divide the teams by division
NL East
New York Mets 88.0 OVER
Atlanta Braves 81.5 OVER
Philadelphia Phillies 88.5 UNDER
Florida Marlins 78.5 UNDER
Washington Nationals 66.5 OVER
NL Central
St Louis Cardinals 84.5 OVER
Houston Astros 78.5 OVER
Chicago Cubs 85.5 UNDER
Milwaukee Brewers 81.5 UNDER
Cincinnati Reds 76.5 UNDER
Pittsburgh Pirates 71.5 UNDER
NL West
Los Angeles Dodgers 88.5 OVER
San Diego Padres 84.0 OVER
San Francisco Giants 81.5 OVER
Colorado Rockies 74.5 OVER
Arizona Diamondbacks 77.5 UNDER
AL East
Boston Red Sox 90.5 OVER
New York Yankees 97.0 UNDER
Toronto Blue Jays 86.5 UNDER
Baltimore Orioles 73.5 UNDER
Tampa Bay Devil Rays 67.0 UNDER
AL Central
Chicago White Sox 86.5 OVER
Detroit Tigers 87.5 UNDER
Cleveland Indians 84.5 UNDER
Minnesota Twins 83.5 UNDER
Kansas City Royals 67.5 UNDER
AL West
Los Angeles Angels 89.5 UNDER
Oakland Athletics 84.5 OVER
Texas Rangers 81.5 UNDER
Seattle Mariners 75.5 UNDER
…
Remember when I said this:
Yeah, we probably will.
