10 a.m.
I’m not ragging on Scroby here – lord knows I have my share of low-paying job stories – it’s just his tale of a video game store boss taking advantage of customers made me chuckle.
It’s funny to think what constitutes taking advantage of a client depending on your line of work. The reason I mention this is that my one idiot boss always fucks over our customers – Scroby's post brought to mind of a situation earlier this year was when the idiot tried to get someone to convert to a different annuity so we could extend that person’s surrender charge. Problem was, that annuity didn’t best serve her. She’s older and the annuity that she was in was a better deal for her, so when my co-worker (who is in charge of financial services in name only) stumbled upon the paperwork for this annuity plan transfer, he immediately contacted this person and got her to keep her current annuity plan. This account was well into five figures and she would have been screwed out of at least $500 per year while having to keep her money with us for another six years in order to avoid early withdrawal penalties if she would have went with the idiot's plan, which could have been illegal because it's likely he didn't tell the customer, among other things, about the extended surrender charge, which is a very big "no-no."
9:30 a.m.
• I might not be going the route you may think I’m going with this one.
No, I don't have a Quickie Mart story of my own that's similar. In fact, I tried to minimize my chatting with Lottery People. I didn't give a shit if there was one scratch-off ticket left on a roll or if a new roll was on display. This is what popped in my head upon reading this story: A Quickie Mart-employed single mother with NINE maxed out credit cards plus almost $9,000 in debt for an ASSOCIATE’S DEGREE plays the lottery. (I’m sure this isn’t the first time she’s spent money on government-sanctioned gambling.) Why am I not surprised? I will give her credit. (Well, maybe not “credit” because she’ll max it out within a week – how about “props?) She went with the 20 payments instead of the lump sum, due to her inability to budget money.
6 p.m.
• 14-10 Pirates. I was right (see 1:30 p.m. entry).
• You may have already
already, but I don't care. I saw it for the first time today.
1:30 p.m.
• So I was flipping in-between the Braves and Reds games this afternoon, and just watched the unfortunate Reds pitcher give up 5 in the first to the Pirates and left the game with runners on first and second base with still NOBODY out. Ouch. Speaking of baseball, my MVP franchise is somewhere in mid-May, and when I played my A and MLB games this past week (both were on the same “day,” according to the calendar) I hit a grand slam in each contest. Never hit one before in any league, so to do so twice was weird. I hear cheering. Guess the Reds got someone out. I just heard Zach Duke is pitching for Shittsburgh. Cincinnati’s still in this one.
8 a.m.
• Uh, checkmate?
But that bad joke isn't the reason I posted this story.
"Tortuing them to death"? Oh boo-hoo you fucking commie.
Perhaps if the condemned wasn't a drug user, then the State could find a worthwhile vein to penetrate. Like I said before, I’m not always a fan of capital punishment, but that’s not because I feel bad for blacks/Latinos/the poor/etc. being given the needle. You can’t take back an completed death penalty. All it takes is one lying witness or DNA test to set someone convicted free. However, if you are filmed robbing a store and shooting the clerk, seen on camera trying to end the life of a police officer that pulled you over for a busted taillight, then you die. No questions asked. No 20,000 appeals. No cell with Internet access. No trying to figure out why you did what you did. You die.
Oh yeah, back to solving the crisis of torturing prisoners to death. You don’t have to spend 20 minutes finding a vein when you put a gun in a person’s mouth.
8:45 p.m.
• I actually endorse a person's "right" to die.
Look, if you lived a long life and suffering from terminal cancer and want to exit stage left early a little early, then so be it. Now if you are 30something, "depressed" and want to end it all, then go ahead. It'll save me from having to hear you bitch about how much life sucks.
• So how does one pass through the screening process in order to get into an Aussie gay bar: dress nice, look thin, fuck the bouncer?
12:15 p.m.
• I hope these assholes get caught just so I can hear them and their ACLU lawyers say they were within their First Amendment rights. Hopefully someone will then try to see if putting two in each of thier skulls is within his (or her) Second Amendment rights.
7:45 p.m.
• There is justice in the world.
I consider myself to be a don’t-do-the-crime-if-you-can’t-do-the-time type of person, but with all the shit that has gone down over the past year for these people the least Duke can do is let them re-do a season. Then again, after how the Duke team got thrown under the bus, I’m surprised anyone from that team is still around at that university.
• Best Buy employees, be on alert. There will be retaliation from the reds.
• Awesome. So the U.S. is spreading cancer to Asia. And who says we don’t export anything over there?
• I guess not everybody learned the lesson the XFL provided us earlier this decade.
8:45 a.m.
• And here I thought Anakin's problem was being p-whipped.
8 p.m.
• This was an article about how we pamper out pets. It’s a long read, so I’m just highlighting all the things I admit to doing. Because I get a limited number of “quote” uses per entry, the article snippets will be in boldface.
Some 56 percent of dog owners and 42 percent of cat owners buy their pets Christmas presents.
*Raises hand.*
I should note that I don’t actually buy the toys, Mrs. kkk does. But I’ll cop to it anyway.
]Pets can listen to their own Internet radio station (Elvis Presley’s “Hound Dog” is one of the more popular songs on DogCatRadio.com), post their pictures and make play dates on dogster.com and catster.com, and earn frequent flier miles on United. They even have cell phones now: PetsCell is a bone-shaped telephone that attaches to your dog’s collar and allows you to ring him up (sorry, incoming calls only). And there’s a new beer for dogs (from Amsterdam, no less), called Kwispelbier, which is Dutch for “waggy tail” brew.
OK, so all I do is post pics of the kids on-line. None of that other stuff.
The recent scare over tainted pet food has made feeding your animal a pricey proposition: I’ve switched Samantha to “holistic” kibble and wet food, hormone-free chicken strips and handmade cookies from a local dog bakery, along with the occasional whole-roasted chicken that we share for dinner.
Well, my three have special food, but Max needs his diet because of urinary problems. The other two get better food than Meow Mix and Friskies, but because this stuff has less filler they don’t eat as much, so I’m sure costs get evened out in the end.
But is all this coddling for our pets, or is it for us? A growing number of animal behaviorists, researchers and trainers think we’ve gone off the deep end, anthropomorphizing and infantilizing our pets to the point that we’ve forgotten an essential biological truth: at the level of basic instinct, Tabby is a wildcat and Fido is a wolf.
Yeah, look at these two.
Wildcats indeed (although I’m sure Dessa wouldn’t mind killing a bird. She’s lunged at a few before when out on the porch.)
Understand this, the experts say, and you will comprehend such mysteries of the universe as why your cat prefers to sharpen its nails on your favorite sofa and your dog insists on rolling in manure after getting a bath. Ignore the call of the wild in your pet, and you not only diminish the quality of its life; you open yourself to all sorts of bad behavior, from the merely annoying (your cat pees on the bed) to the potentially deadly (snarling pit bulls).
Well no shit. I hate people who bitch about their cats scratching furniture. What do you want them to do? Our two couches have been ruined for years. Big deal. That’s what happens when you own cats. Christ, if your kid runs around the house and knock something over you don’t break his legs. If your niece picks up something she shouldn’t have and drops it, you don’t chop off her fingertips. Why should animals be any different?
When it comes to the animals that share our homes and even our beds (63 percent of cat owners and 42 percent of dog owners sleep with their pets, according to the APPMA), we humans tend to have a tough time accepting biological reality.
Our cats, particularly Dessa, sleep with us, but I think she does it to stay away from the other two in the house. Its not like we call her – she just hops up, makes a nest and lays down.
Much of what we consider “bad” behavior is merely a pet’s acting out its basic needs. “People see the cat scratching on their beautiful couch, and they don’t want me to tell them it’s a normal behavior,” says feline behavior consultant Pam Johnson-Bennett, author of the book “Hiss and Tell: True Stories from the Files of a Cat Shrink.” “But you have to realize that scratching is a need a cat has. It’s rooted in their survival.” The trick, then, isn’t to get the cat to stop scratching, but to make it scratch something you don’t value. Johnson-Bennett suggests a scratching post wrapped with sisal or rope—she says the carpeted kind don’t allow the cat to dig its nails in deep enough to be satisfying. She’s also big on “cat trees”: a series of perches that allow felines to climb and leap as they would in the wild.
Doesn’t work. Buy them a $100+ play set to climb on and they’ll sit in the box it came in for weeks on end, not even acknowledging the feline jungle gym in the corner of the room. Years ago the better half built one of these godawful concoctions and NOBODY got near it. That was until we tore it down and suddenly the broken-down pieces became instant hits, much to Mrs. kkk’s chagrin.
Indeed, veterinarians say obesity is the greatest health threat facing America’s pets, with at least a quarter of the population overweight (that compares with a 30 percent obesity rate in American adults). Most pet owners don’t realize that when a pet is the correct weight, you can feel the outline of its ribs. “We’re so used to seeing overweight cats that when we see a healthy one, we think it’s too skinny.”
Eh, my opinion is there are enough starving kitties out there. If my three have a few pleasure pounds, I don’t really care. That’s why they get the special diet.
What can’t be bred out of dogs is the trait that makes them bond so well with humans: the pack instinct. What we call “loyalty” in our dogs may actually be a result of the wolf’s nature as a pack animal: the bonding and sociality that keep a wolf pack together are what drive the domesticated dog to stick with its owner. “The family unit here just happens to be cross-species,” says Samuel Gosling, a psychologist at University of Texas, Austin, who specializes in canine research. The fact that wolves are pack animals and wildcats aren’t may help explain why we perceive dogs as loving and needy, and cats as independent and aloof.
Interesting. I didn’t think about that.
7:30 p.m.
• Fucking asshole.
Whoever pulled that shit should be rounded up and beat to death. I take the Fort Pitt tunnels to and from work, and I also go through the Squirrel Hill tunnels if I'm not picking up the better half from her job. I leave at 3 p.m. so I missed all this action (or lack of action due to the tunnel closings). I can't imagine what the back-ups must have been like.
12 p.m.
• No wonder the Left loves Hugo Chavez. (LOL regarding the Carter Center.)
Once Hitlerly gets elected President, along with a Democrat Congress and Senate, in '08, say goodbye to RIGHT-WING RADIO!
8:45 p.m.
• So a day or so again, Mark Madden was commenting on Gary Sheffield’s words that Michael Wilbon pops wood over. He pretty much goofed on Gary, and this prompted some black callers to phone in and call him a RACIST. It was a nice switch from the Steeler fanboys that normally a call with their stupid thoughts. However, one guy was a notch above the rest. He bitched that Mark said Gary got away with what he said because he was black (or some similar complaint – all the callers sounded alike) and that if a white person would say something similar they wouldn’t get in trouble either. Madden started goofing on him, and the caller backed up his point by using DON IMUS and JOHN ROCKER as examples of whites that “didn’t get in trouble.”
And I watched a recent “Outside the Lines” episode on ESPN about sports talk radio, which mentioned that the average listener is more educated than one would think.
8:15 p.m.
• Let’s see how I did with my NHL playoff picks. I’m using my selections from the playoff tree after I discovered the league re-seeds its picks every round.
(1) Buffalo v. (8) NY Islanders. Buffalo in 5.
Result: Sabers in 5.
(2) New Jersey v. (7) Tampa Bay. Devils in 5.
Result: Devils in 6.
(3) Atlanta v. (6) NY Rangers. Rangers in 6.
Result: Rangers in 4.
(4) Ottawa v. (5) Shittsburgh. Senators in 7.
Result: Senators in 5.
(1) Detroit v. (8) Calgary. Detroit in 5.
Result: Wings in 6.
(2) Anaheim v. (7) Minnesota. Ducks in 6.
Result: Ducks in 5.
(3) Vancouver v. (6) Dallas. Stars in 6.
Result: Canucks in 7
(4) Nashville v. (5) San Jose. Predators in 7.
Result: Sharks in 5.
First Round: 6 for 8. Hey, seems like I somewhat know what I’m doing, especially if you ignore that 4/5 matchup in the West.
Second Round:
(1) Buffalo beats (6) Rangers in 5.
Result: Sabers in 6.
(4) Ottawa beats (2) Jersey in 6.
Result: Senators in 6.
(1) Detroit beats (6) Dallas in 5.
Sorta-Result: Wings beat Sharks in 6.
(4) Nashville beats (2) Anaheim in 7.
Sorta-Result: Not even close.
Third Round.
(1) Buffalo beats (4) Ottawa in 5.
Result: Sabers Senators in 5.
(
4) Nashville beats (1) Detroit in 7.
Sorta-Result: Ducks beat Wings in 6.
Stanley Cup.
(1) Buffalo beats (4) Nashville in 6.
Not-even-close Result: Man, that’s some good shit I’m smoking.
3 p.m.
• Well the Ducks won the Stanley Cup –– quack quack. From what I little I know of the NHL, it appeared from the start that the Ducks were the better team, and by winning in five games it appeared that way. I’m a little surprised Ottawa didn’t win another game or two, considering how well they seemed to play in the other playoff rounds. At least the final game was a blow-out. I’d feel bad for that Senator player who put the puck into his own net; if the Sens would have lost by just one goal, that player would have had to endure a long summer. I watched last night’s game and the one thing that always pains me is seeing the losing team just sit there on the ice while their opponents rejoice. Imagine going through as many as 28 postseason games only to fall short of getting to smooch Lord Stanley. On the other end of the spectrum, I also feel bad for baseball players who grind through 162 games in six months only to get eliminated in a best-of-five series in a wild-card round. At least with football you only play 16 games, so dropping a stinker in the playoffs would seem more tolerable. Then again, I don’t strap on the pads and beat the hell out of myself all year going against 300-lb linemen or psycho linebackers, so what do I know.
Last year I made a remark that it was nice to see Glenn Wesley finally get to lift the Stanley Cup, and this year it was Teemu Selanne’s turn. I don’t know much about the guy, but I remember him with the Winnipeg Jets. Uh, yay and stuff. I hope the NHL can get back on the radar when it comes to the sporting world –– this sport is too fun to watch to be brushed aside. Like I said above, I don’t religiously follow the NHL as much as I did when I was younger, but if a game is on I’ll have it on, even if I don’t recognize the players’ names.
4:30 p.m.
• So I was pondering coming into work this weekend to finish up some stuff, but then I heard on the radio Friday that a major road into Shittsburgh was going to be closed all weekend. That’s right. ALL WEEKEND. Oh, and there was some concert going on at Heinz Field Saturday. I decided to stay home.
I think I was right on this one.
Close an interstate when 50,000 people are slated to show up for a concert. Brilliant. Say, why don’t you wait until the NFL season starts and plan these construction weekends whenever the Steelers have a home game?
7:45 p.m.
• What a bunch of pussies.
Well I guess this makes sense. Rush and his ilk cause global warming, so why should these listeners be warned when a hurricane they helped create comes over and wipes them out with no warning?
7:15 p.m.
• So there’s this semi-local restaurant called Eat ‘n Park. It’s got a number of locations, but it’s regional. Anyway, they have this stupid mascot thing called Smiley, named after their smiley cookies. What is it? A cookie with frosting that makes it look like there’s a happy face. Well last night the better half wanted to go to the Eat ‘n Park across from the grocery store we go to every Tuesday afternoon. Turns out that was the time Mr. Smiley was paying a visit to that restaurant. And the place was PACKED with kids all screaming "SMILEY!"
Believe it or not, I wasn’t that annoyed. I normally don’t mind noisy kids if they’re having fun. That’s what kids are supposed to do, after all. It’s the ones that throw temper tantrums that I want to smack upside the head with a brick. Well, as Mr. Smiley was making his rounds, Mrs. kkk made some remark about Mr. Smiley, and just to be an asshole I said I’d break Mr. Smiley’s leg and shout out to all these brats, “Where’s your Smiley now?” This of course brought the usual, “You hate everything that’s good and wholesome in this world.” I normally respond with a pedophile priest joke, but this time my retort was, “So what’s your point?” I then added we should go to another local restaurant because their mascot better resembled my attitude. And just what is this other mascot?
The Frownie.
Good God is this a fucking retarded character. It makes the Mr. Smiley marketing concept look like those three Budweiser frogs from the mid-90s. You know Bud … Weis … Er. (And I didn't even like those frogs to begin with.) The Frownie’s restaurant, which is called King’s, has this thing included in a number of its billboards making some pseudo-sarcastic comment. For example, there’s one billboard I drive by every day on the way home from work pimping some kind of sandwich, and the Frownie is saying, “Nice Buns.” Who comes up with this shit? And don’t get me started on the television commercials.
Too late.
"That’s one mean dessert?" Fuck around with my sales reports and I’d be putting your right hand through the paper shredder. Bitch.
7 a.m.
• I didn't watch last nights NBA game but I heard on the radio today that LeBron got fouled when he took his last shot. A clip was then played after the game with James being asked a question about that play, and he replied "incidental contact." Well played, even though from what I've gathered last night's game was not.
11:15 p.m.
• So I just spent the last 11 hours finishing up the monthly publication that I’m responsible for producing. There’s no way I’m looking at a computer screen anymore tonight.
• Good.
Fuck him. Nothing else needs to be said on this matter, other than I can’t wait for the students to start suing him. That’ll be a sight to see.
12:30 a.m.
• So here’s an update on the “Aussie Prince.” For those that don’t know, here’s a recap.
Well, today I found out that this couple isn’t divorced, but they are no longer living together. Oh, yeah. The Aussie Prince told the not-quite-ex-wife that he now has a “great job,” bought a new car and moved into a house. All within a month. Boy, that bitch was sure holding him back.
• OK, now this is scary. From Dave Ramesy’s Web page that features testimonials from people who made stupid decisions with their money:
I’m 31 and this person who is just three years older than me has a 14-year old? Now granted that means this chick squirted out the kid when she was 20, but still. Makes me glad I’m not responsible for another life, outside of the better half and three cats.
9 p.m.
• I’m smelling left-wing conspiracy here to take God out of our society.
• I don’t go to casinos, but are there such do-not-allow-me-in-the-building laws in the States? (This case was from across the Pond.)
• Arena football may be back in Shittsburgh, baby.
I remember years ago we had the Gladiators. Never went to a game. Never cared. I heard on the radio today they moved to Tampa. I did a quick Wikipedia and noticed the Gladiators lost Arena Bowls I and III, but have won five since moving to Flordia, including one right after setting up shop in Tampa.
This was funny.
Makes me wonder if the possibility of getting an Arena Football team would have been likely if there wasn’t going to be a new arena built. OMG THE ARENA WOULD HAVE BEEN JUST FOR THE PENGUINS!
8:45 p.m.
• Oh no another GOP defection~!
Whatever. He was never a Republican anyway – just some Dem who jumped over to avoid some commie-fest Democrat primary. I don’t care if he runs or not. I wouldn’t vote for the guy.
• R.I.P. Barker beauties.
I wonder how Rosie would react if some contestant in military uniform would get out of that first-round guess-the-closest-price stage and end up next to her. I'm also quite sure there won't be any little old ladies giving her pecks on the cheek. Then again, old people don't know where they are half the time anyway.
11 a.m.
• And who says crime doesn't reach our more rural regions? Oh Somerset County.
And now for the "meat" of the story.
But that's not all...
11 a.m.
• Well yesterday was fun. For our upcoming anniversary, I had been saving up to get the better half a television for the bedroom. Now I know what you’re thinking: You’re just getting the television for yourself and disguising it as a gift for “her.” You would be wrong. When we had our former TV in the bedroom, I never once had it on; the better half likes to watch DVDs before nodding off, and there would be many times when I’d come to bed and she’d be snoozing to “Who Framed Roger Rabbit?” or an episode of “Charmed.” A while back, Max knocked this television onto the floor in the middle of the night – my guess he was trying to get up to one window and was using the television as a springboard. He then slipped somewhere during this action and while trying to regain his balance on top of the television knocked it over. That was a fun noise to wake up to at 3 a.m. on a worknight. Anyway, because we have spent the past year paying off Mrs. kkk’s credit card bills, a new television set wasn’t in the cards. However, I had been saving up and was hoping to get a nice LCD set for the bedroom for her. I saw a nice deal at Best Buy this past week and planned to get the set last night and hook it up in time before she got back from working her second job.
Or so I thought.
I always liked Best Buy, but one thing I could do without are employees stopping me every few minutes asking if I need anything. No I don’t. Go away. I knew someone who worked at a Best Buy once and he said the employees at his store had to flag down a certain amount of customers per day and fill out some hippie report. Is he right? I don’t know. However, this day everybody must have met their quota because I was in the television department for 40 minutes trying to get someone to ring me up. It was unreal. If I wasn’t being walked right by store personnel as if I didn’t exist, I was being told to “wait and someone will be right with you.” I’m not a high-maintenance customer. Most of the time I want to be left alone. But I find it funny that the one time I was hoping to get pulled over by someone wearing one of those blue shirts I was unable to. I bet if I was going to buy a $5 DVD I’d have six of these CSR’s letting me know that if I wanted to buy a big-ticket item they’d be down the next aisle.
But it all works out in the end. I just left and went to another store where I bought a “normal” television set and some extra stuff with the several hundred dollars I saved from not making that Best Buy purchase. Not only did I not break the bank when getting Mrs. kkk a gift that she can (and will) use, but also if I hear a loud “crash” at 3 a.m. I can go back to bed knowing that buying the less expensive product was the right thing to do.
6 p.m.
• So I finally saw Spiderman 3 last night and honestly… wtf.
Spoilers ahead and stuff.
Fuck Aunt May for being a goddamn hippie. “Forgive” the person that killed your longtime husband? Bitch please.
Fuck that butler guy for waiting all this time before telling Harry that his dad was a fuckup.
Fuck Mary Jane for being a jealous bitch. And I'd take JJJ's secretary over anyone from these movies.
And I don’t get that Brock Junior guy getting all mopey for getting busted for taking faux pictures. First off, that’s a big no-no. Secondly, making up news to fit a certain template – I’m sure the New York Times would have had him on the phone the moment he got released from the Daily Bugle.
What’s this shit about another guy killing Peter’s uncle? And what’s this shit about “I didn’t mean to shoot your uncle”? Oh boo-hoo. You shot an innocent person. He died. You should have gotten the needle years ago you pissant – and I don’t give a shit if your kid is sick. What did you do for her in the end? Just turn into sand and float off, leaving your kid to fend for herself and hope the State can be a better father figure than you could, you lowlife piece of shit.
You want to know what the good was? J. Jonah Jameson, although not as good as in previous films. Bruce Campbell got a paycheck. And, I kid you not, was waiting for the line Harry says that’s in Black Lushsus’ avatar over at the other place. I was sitting there halfway through the film wondering what the hell is going on and thinking, “So when is Harry going to be saying, ‘so good’?” I also liked Venom Brock – it’d be nice if he was on-screen for more than five minutes.
Oh, here’s another thing that got on my nerves. In the first Spiderman movie when the Green Goblin was being mean on the bridge, everyday New Yorkers came to Spidey’s defense by throwing stuff at the Goblin and saying stuff like “You mess with Spiderman, you mess with New York.” In the second film, those passengers on the subway try to defend Spiderman from Doc Ock. What happens in this film? OMG there’s this big sand guy and black thing holding a chick hostage in a car way up in the air. Let’s all just stand around and do nothing. If the fire fighters can’t at least turn the hose on the sand guy while I’m waiting for my friend-turned-enemy-turned-friend-turned-enemy-turned-friend arrive on his hippie hover board, then I’d be moving to another city that would at least appreciate my efforts – and no, gay parades and keys to the city don’t mean shit when you’re having slabs of construction material hurled at you.
One last thing about the sandman. Great concept with the roaring face and all that – I liked it better the first and second time I saw it during the “Mummy” movies.
But at least Bruce Campbell got a paycheck.
Maybe I’ll better appreciate this movie upon a second viewing or something. My spidey sense is going off on this one, though. Or is that my ears ringing due to the wax removal drops I put in earlier today?
11:30 a.m.
• Well this can't be good. Earlier this morning the better half and I heard this engine noise from outside. After a while when we got our lazy asses up to see what was going on (my guess was the cable company trimming some trees from phone poles or something like that) we saw an ambulance by our shut-in neighbor's house. And the only thing worse than an ambulance at your house is when the paramedics don't seem to be in any hurry to cart you off. Not sure if the guy died or not (there's a chance he could be getting transported to a nursing home/rehab/etc.), but one of his adult kids was there with his wife and talking on the cell phone. My guess is that he was calling the rest of the family to deliver the news. If that's the case, then peace out, Mr. Auld. Saturdays just won't be the same around here without your family coming over and screaming at the top of their lungs during every play of a Notre Dame football broadcast, and I mean that in a sad way.
3 p.m.
• Exactly 10 years to the day this racist/fascist/xenophobic/sexist/right-wing/left-handed bastard was manning a booth at a local water park on behalf of a nonprofit. As he sat there, a number of voluptuous females walked by him in their skimpy bathing suits that showcased their goods. These stuck-up twats with their tan skin, c-cupped breasts and round backsides wouldn’t even give him the time of day. Eventually, one approached and wasn’t repulsed by this booth-sitter’s looks and personality. She actually thought this idiot was funny. That chick then left because her boyfriend returned from the nearby snack stand and the person I ended up marrying on June 25, 2005, showed up.
Baby, you’re the greatest. Or at least the best I could get with what little I have going.
7:30 am.
• This showed up in my work e-mail this morning. How could this NOT be legit? They even included a link to a story talking about the plane crash this German guy died in!
Is there any doubt why Africa has no money? All these people die, leave their accounts frozen and don't give the Dark Continent a chance to make this cash grow.
7:15 a.m.
• While looking at the story below, which I first read on Drudge, I saw this headline, too.
Now THAT'S some funny shit right there, NYT.
• See, this is what's wrong with California. Requiring pets to be sterile? Unwanted pets cost $300 million per year? How about neutering welfare recipients, felons and illegals -- I'm sure that'll save you guys a nice chunk of change.
6:15 p.m.
• So how was my Fourth of July? From Monday:
Better Half: “Let’s do something for the Fourth.”
Me: “Let’s not.”
“I want to go to the zoo.”
“Why? You’re going to the zoo next week with the niece and nephew.”
“I want to see the baby tiger cubs.”
“We have three cats.”
“We’re going.”
So on the way to the zoo, we find out that the main road to get to said animal hangout is shut off, probably for some hippie parade. We took a side road and hoped we could end up somewhere near the zoo. Did I mention the Shittsburgh zoo is located next to fucking ghettos and shit? Well, after a few turns we weren’t in Kansas anymore. I wished we were in Kansas. There would have been much less black people giving us thug looks and eying up our phat rims. We decided to turn around and backtrack, hoping we could get one of the fine city’s public servants to let us know what the hell to do. Well, when we got back to where the zoo road was shut off, we realized that now even MORE of the road was closed, and the officers were less than helpful. We took a road that we knew and go on during our daily commute home from work. As we were driving this road we noticed there was quite a bit of smoke a few blocks down from us. Mrs. kkk then said…
“Are they having a barbeque?”
No. They’re having an accident. A really bad one. I have no idea what happened, but some car was plastered against a telephone pole, and some young white guy was lying on the street. There was a crowd, lots of screaming and an old, white cop trying to direct traffic. Oh, and the totaled car was on fire. The cop asked if we had a fire extinguisher. We didn’t. Then we came to a familiar sight. A few weeks ago, this house was hanging a banner, accusing some guy named George Hall of stalking. Well, the banner was taken down a little while ago, but now it was back up.
Apparently, the guy is back to stalking.
Mrs. kkk was still hell-bent on going to the zoo, so we took the Parkway and tried getting to said zoo in this direction. Well, guess where we ended up? Yep, right back to that shut down road, except this time even MORE of the road was closed. Pissed off, we retreated back to suburbia and decided to see a movie. What was the movie? The fourth Die Hard film.
Now I’ve made some comments in the Die Hard thread about my concern for the PG-13 rating. After all, the suckitude that was “Alien v. Predator” achieved a similar rating when it should have been made to appeal to an R-rated audience, but whatever. I went with Die Hard because that was the longest-running of the available films and I wanted to get my money’s worth (a Jew to the end, I know). I’ll tell you what, how the hell did this get a PG-13 rating? Now I could talk about the actual movie and my thoughts on the fourth installment in the Die Hard series, but it’s so much more entertaining to talk about the animals I had to share the same building with for these few hours.
Let’s start with the fellow Die Hard movie-goers. Now this cinema was packed, which isn’t surprising considering the Fourth of July. However, what makes this aggravating is that all the sheeple just stand around the one or two ushers who rip tickets waiting for their movie to start seating. This of course prevents anyone from getting through to see their movie, which is already seating. And of course, there is an ELECTRIC MARQUEE on the wall TELLING people which movies/times are currently being seated and which others aren’t quite ready for seating yet. NOBODY LOOKS AT THIS BOARD! It’s not that hard. Oh, there’s “Die Hard.” Oh, there’s 4 p.m.. Oh, there’s “Now Seating.” Get the fuck out of my way people. Actually, I didn’t bowl over these old people in my way because I gave them a warning when I said out loud to Mrs. kkk, “So do you want to lead in the plowing efforts to get to our movie or should I do it this time?” The old people in front of me wandering around in small circles got the hint and parted to the side. The usher ripped our tickets and said, “Down this hallway. Fourth door to your left. It’s the one without a marquee on because it’s broken.” As we started walking down the hall, I heard the usher say the same thing to the people behind us. Mrs. kkk decided to go to the bathroom and I stood by the Die Hard auditorium door waiting for her. While waiting, several groups of people strolled by with a look of confusion. Yep. They didn’t pay attention when the usher said the Die Hard marquee was down. The better half re-emerged and two separate groups of people asked us where the 4 p.m. Die Hard feature was. Mrs. kkk pointed to the auditorium and said the usher told us it was the one with the broken marquee. Each time the people replied, “Well he didn’t tell US that.”
Oh bullshit. If there’s one thing I know it’s that movie patrons are among some of the dumbest people out there. Once an usher rips their ticket the customers zone out and pay no attention whatsoever to whatever the employee says after that. The better half said to me that when she was in the ladies room, someone was complaining to her about not being told where the Die Hard feature was being played. Yeah. Oh, and when we got our seats I went back out to get a drink and Junior Mints. When I passed this poor usher to and from the snack stand, guess what I heard him say each time to customers.
“Down this hallway. Fourth door to your left. It’s the one without a marquee on because it’s broken.”
So the movie started after 30 minutes of commercials and previews. Look, I don’t really mind wading through previews and shit because that just gives people who showed up late the chance to find a seat before the film starts, but come on – don’t play the same commercials I see on TV on the silver screen. Can’t we be somewhat creative? Oh, and there were two previews to films dealing with the WAR ON TERROR. Christ, people go to the movies to escape this shit. The only saving moment came during some commie “Lions and Lambs” piece of shit that Robert Redford made where Tom Cruise, who I guess is playing some warmonger, says some line like, “If you *do something* the TERRORISTS HAVE WON.” This prompted me to say, “If you don’t come out of the closet, the TERRORISTS HAVE ALREADY WON,” prompting a snicker from Mrs. kkk.
The other highlight of the movie-going experience came afterward when I went to take a number one in the men’s room. After I was done, I returned out to the lobby hall and said the following to the two ushers who were just finished cleaning up the Die Hard auditorium.
“Someone just pooped on the floor in the cripple stool.”
Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with people? And no, it wasn't me that did it.
3 p.m.
• So this sucker client asked my co-worker on Monday to transfer from her account $6,000 because she was having medical work done to her and needed the money by today. My co-worker placed the necessary form/parperwork on my idiot boss’ desk Monday morning at 10 a.m. because he has to see and approve EVERY transaction we make. He finally got around to reading this request … at 11 a.m. today. Bwahahahahaha.
• Would you believe this shit?
Al Gore Jr. was going 100 mph in a PRIUS! And just how much gas was wasted by him going vroom-vroom? The terrorists won this round for sure.
10 a.m.
• Wha-?
Perhaps the upset Frenchies aren't used to seeing one of their own jogging in Paris rather than away from Paris when the Germans come to pay them a visit.
8 p.m.
• LOL Mikey Moore.
That joke writes itself. And he wants media outlets to tell the truth? While we’re on this subject, how exactly is universal health care “free”?
Wait a second, Mikey just said at the end that he doesn’t do taped interviews that can be edited. Oh that’s funny.
• So today I heard on several ESPN shows that one of the big stories of this All-Star Weekend, err, day or two, is Barry Bonds not participating in tonight’s home-run contest. “OMG he owes it to the people in San Francisco fans for their years of blind loyalty,” “OMG he is finally getting into the good graces of the world and he’s ruining it,” “OMG he’s turned his back on the fans yet again.”
Look, I can’t stand Bonds, but he can do whatever the hell he wants – and many times he does just that. Besides, I thought Major League Baseball wanted to distance itself from the roid age? Wouldn’t have The Forehead taking his cuts at Pac Bell Whatever it’s Called Ball Park do just that. Listening to the national sports media tell Bonds what he should do to enhance his image is like having a N.Y. Times columnist give advice to the GOP on what Republicans should do in order to win the next election.
• While on the subject of baseball, for those that like this sort of thing:
• OMG FAUX NEWS LOL20… uh, ah screw it. I’m too lazy right now to think up a nickname for the BBC.
• Damn you global warming.
Of course, this is now why we’re referring to this as “climate change.” That way, they don’t have to worry about the earth getting hot or cold.
• N*gga plz.
If they really wanted to make an impact, they would have hung this mean word from a tree or put it on a burning, wodden, lower-case "t" indicating that it's time for this word to leave.
kkk's Top 103 Posters
Number 17: Wildbomb 4:20
Some of you may not remember this guy, but I sure do. When Mr. Bomb first came on the scene, he actually tried to make valid, thought-out arguments. Peep this post regarding media bias.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, here’s another post of his in the SAME THREAD talking about the economy.
Please note he’s not copying and pasting material someone else already wrote. This is all original thought. And you expect me to actually read all this? And what was my response to him after skimming through the latter post?
When another poster questioned why I just “refer to the very end of (the post), ignoring the meat of the information,” I had to remind him that I generally don’t read anything longer than two sentences (or three syllables) at this place. Besides, if I spent the time actually reading long, thought-out posts, you wouldn’t get such hilarity like what I posted at thread's end.
Sadly, poor Wildbomb still gave it that old $120,000 college try by attempting to generate serious discussion, but he would usually came up short. However, because we were both in the communications field, we shot the shit quite a bit via PMs, and there were actually a few threads where there was somewhat decent banter. And what did many of these threads have in common? Wildbomb wasn’t going on 500+ word posts about how much he owes in school loans. Let this be a lesson to all aspiring TSM posters – nobody wants to read all that shit. Nobody cares. If you’re going to post something long, make it be from someone else and just bold selected text to make it appear like you actually read the whole thing while hoping there’s nothing contradictory that could shoot your premise down. Wildbomb finally caught on and realized that nobody at this place is going to significantly change his or her opinions because some faceless message board poster said something smart. I have no idea what he’s been up to in the last few years, but for his sake I hope he’s paying down that $60+k in school loans. The fact he doesn’t post much, if at all, anymore is certainly a good sign.
Ha. I just goofed on Wildbomb for making long posts and I’m already at the 1400+ word mark with this entry. Well, most of this text is from, surprise, other people’s posts. Besides, this is a blog, not some hippie thread. You EXPECT this kind of deep thought in these personal journals. Well, what you expect and what you get are two different things. And I got some bad news…
…HERE COMES THE HIT SQUAD!
It's PMD up in the sector
I wreck the microphonin
I'm quick to pull a Tek
and snap that neck
and leave ya moanin
Kid I'm zoning
it's on
and I'm back up on the block
(Aiyo, we represent the sewer!)
Son, I represent the dock
(dock)
Plus I knock
(what?)
niggas out the box quickly
Kid I'm strictly motherfuckin business
so get wit me
Yo Scratch hit me
so I can do my thing and blow the spot
Here’s some more bad news – this entry ain’t getting much better.
9 p.m.
• So when cats sleep, you can tell if they’re dreaming by their paws twitching. Once in a while one of our three might give a little chirp when snoozing; God knows what they’re thinking about. However, last night when Max was sleeping on the recliner he began meowing – loudly. At first I thought I was on his tail or something, but I wasn’t. He let out a few more meows and continued his slumber. Guess it was a nightmare or something. I know it couldn’t have been an imaginary girlfriend because he’s fixed. Then again, maybe he was pissed that nothing was going on down there in dreamland.
• So I was driving home through the hood today, and what was in front of me? This hippie van-thingy in front of me that was spewing so much exhaust I had to wind up the windows and turn on the air conditioner. And what kind of bumper sticker was on it? The kind that said, “Act Green” then something about how the earth appreciates it. Oh if Mrs. kkk only got me a camera phone. Oh who am I kidding? No way in hell I’d be able to figure it out. Damn kids and their fancy text messages. Actually, I think the whole point of texting is stupid because all people seem to say is…
“how r u”
“good u”
“good lol”
“where r u”
“work ”
" "
“lol”
“lol”
“cu l8r”
“cu”
And there’s $50 right there.
8:45 p.m.
• So today was spent away from work because I had eight vacation days to use up by year’s end, and now that number is seven. One thing the better half and I decided to do (since she took off work as well) was to take our second car in for its annual emission/inspection. Now this piece of shit is an ’88 Corsica and my niece and nephew in-laws affectionately call it “crappy the white car.” Seriously, this thing looks like it’s on its last leg (or wheel, as the case may be), but it still moves around with no problem whenever we have to take it out of the garage. Well, we got a call from the auto place that said Crappy needs a lot of work to it. When I heard the estimate I said, “we’ll pick it up.”
Now I know dick when it comes to automobiles, and I make no bones about my lack of knowledge on the subject. When I told Mrs. kkk what they said needed replaced, she was flipping out because she claims Crappy doesn’t have any of those problems. Whatever. We’re going to get her brother, a mechanic, to look Crappy over and take the car to another place for inspection where the standards are so high as the place we took the car prior. (The father-in-law said that the guy who looked over Crappy is new and extremely anal-retentive.) What was pissing the better half off was that she things the mechanic was trying to rip us off because most of the things wrong with Crappy deal with emissions, which this car is exempt from because it was driven less than 5,000 miles in the last year. Now I don’t mind getting ripped off by the mechanic. Sure, charge me an extra $50 for this or replace a widget that didn’t need fixing for $75. I don’t now the difference. I will say this however – I better not have to come back to your business to re-fix the problem. That’s when the trouble will begin and I become an asshole. Otherwise, my theory on this matter is don’t fuck with someone who has easy access to your car’s brake line.
I finally got Mrs. kkk settled down when I told her that at least now we know this mechanic is a likely swindler and that it’s better to know this now than when any big-time work was to be done on the Crappy or the other car in the kkk household (a 2003 Cavalier) and we could have really been taken to the cleaners. Speaking of money, we went out shopping today and while at the mall the better half went into some over-priced shampoo/soap store where she buys that kind of stuff chicks like to get. Problem was nothing was on sale and she left empty-handed. As we were walking she muttered to me, “I can’t believe I went in there and didn’t buy anything because nothing was on sale. See your influence on me?” I couldn’t be more proud. Interesting, I’m a Jew when it comes to 99 percent of financial matters but more than willing to get ripped off at the mechanic’s shop. Call me a hypocrite if you want, but my reasoning for this is while I can shop around for a multitude of items and sales, when it comes to auto trouble I want a place I can trust to get the job done. If that means I pay a few dollars more because they want to replace lug nuts or something, then so be it. I guess I’ve seen too many assholes at car repair shops flipping out over the price of brakes or mufflers. Dude, if you don’t like the price, then do it yourself or take your business elsewhere and let me read my in-store magazine in peace.
While I’m on this subject, I’ve had more than once mechanic compliment me on my manners over the years regarding my patience and understanding with car maintenance. One time my car needed some work done to it (a couple hundred dollars) and the mechanic was literally bracing himself for my sure-to-be angry reaction. I just said, “OK, just do whatever.” He was shocked that I didn’t go, “YOU MEAN TO TELL ME IT’LL COST THAT MUCH!?!? RAWWWWWWWWWR!” Did I get ripped off? I have no idea. But I’ve never had to take the car in to get it fixed since regarding that problem.
kkk's Top 103 Posters
Number 14: King of the 909
It’s good to be King. Now being King of just the 909? I don’t know. From reading the limited entries in his blog it doesn’t appear that royalty in a state filled with illegal aliens would be all that appealing. Then again, if you were really King you’d be able to kill these leeches and then put a few in the heads of the Amnesty International and ACLU faggots that object. Funny enough, when he signed up for kkk Bowl years ago I thought for some reason he was black. But then he starts an ice hockey thread. Well so long to ethnic speculation. But back to “King’s Shit.” If you read the tagline to this cyber-diary it says:
Really? Well let’s see what has bugged Mr. 909 since December of 2005.
College Bowl games.
The weekend of December 12 in the sports world.
Smush Parker.
The media not letting the Suns/Lakers go.
MLB teams and their trading tactics.
Uncontentness.
His workplace.
Towel-head Thanksgivings.
Blog entries getting deleted when he writes a bunch of stuff.
This year’s March Madness tournament.
George Karl.
The Lakers.
The Lakers some more.
THAT’S IT? N*gga I have more things annoy me during a trip to the grocery store. But you can count me in as one of those people that don’t think soccer is “gay.” However, please don’t start talking about Europe Cups, Manchester United or whatever the hell is going on in that continent below us.
9:15 p.m.
• Well, we've been to London and we've been to L.A. Spain, New Zealand, and the U.S.A.
Europe, Japan, and Pango-Pango Canada, Siam, Oz and Kamoto
The kids all come from miles around
The party gets started when the sun goes down
A Holiday Inn's the only home I know
Rock-n-roll's alive 'cause we got the power baby
Crusing down the highway at 500 miles an hour baby
We got a fuel-injected tour bus, man it really flies
With a video tape deck inside
Let's go, rock-n-roll, everybody c'mon
Let's go, rock-n-roll, everybody c'mon now
Touring, touring, is never boring Touring, touring, is never boring Touring, touring, is never boring Touring, touring, oh baby, touring
Especially with your favorite girl Touring, touring, all around the world
Well we've been around this great big world
And we've met all kinds of guys and girls
From Kamoto Islands to Rockaway Beach
No, it's not hard, not far to reach
American girls knock me out, ya know
Fast cars, cold beer, and rock-n-roll
America is the only home I know
Let's go Let's go Let's go Let's go 500 miles to Mexico
Let's go Let's go Let's go Let's go 200 miles to Tokyo
Let's go Let's go Let's go Let's go
Drive, drive, drive the night away
Straight on through to the break of day
Drive, drive, drive the night away
Well, it's in your blood, it's in your blood
Touring, touring, is never boring Touring, touring, is never boring
Touring, touring, is never boring Touring, touring, oh baby, touring
Especially with your favorite girl now
Touring touring, all around the world Touring touring, all around the world
Touring touring, all around the world
...
Wait a second, I had "Rock and Roll High School" playing instead. Oh well, I'm sure I'm not the first to make that mistake.
6:15 p.m.
• So there was some crazy-ass weather to hit the region right as I was leaving the office.
My co-worker advised me to stay in until it cleared up, but my theory was to go now because the traffic would only get worse. Now there was some shitty conditions: heavy rain, high winds, some tornados spotted. However, there are parts of the country that deal with this shit all the time, so even though I was much more alert than I usually am on the drive home from work I wasn’t going OMG I’M SO FRIGHTENED like some callers on the local RIGHT-WING RADIO show were screaming.
Why am I talking about this? Because I’m leading up to my road rage story. OK people, when traffic lights are out and there isn’t anyone directing traffic, TREAT IT LIKE A FOUR-WAY STOP SIGN AND DON’T JUST FUCKING DRIVE THROUGH THE INTERSECTION. There was a three way stop that I just knew was going to be trouble, and this blue-hair just went on through. Had I not prepared for this encounter I would have been t-boned. As I laid my horn on her for the next two blocks, at least I got her to stop at the next down traffic light. Jesus I hate people.
Actually, I was a little concerned because I kept seeing downed trees during my commute. Especially since there are some big trees near my property. However, the storm lost steam when it got to the surrounding counties, which is where I live. Yet another reason why the suburbs rock.
• How funny is this? I live in the Shittburgh area and I ESPN alerts me to local stories. First it was “Jim Rome is Burning” telling me the Pirates got Matt Morris. Now I learned from “Around the Horn” that the Steelers have a mascot.
Steely McMotherfuckingBeam.
Que?
You know, one of the things I liked about the Steelers throughout my life is that they didn’t bother with mascots or cheerleaders. I guess I need something to laugh at after the Pirates stop playing in September and I don’t see the team’s “We Will” slogan for six months. At least the Succo's "Pirate Parrot" is tolerable.
Ha. I forgot about this. Thanks Wikipedia.
3 p.m.
• I heard about this when the story first broke. Sickening.
It's not even worth making some "boy, I hope this child doesn't do hard time but instead gets lots of hugs for killing several members of our society who would have probably gone on to do something useful" remark.
12:30 p.m.
• Ugh. Some asshole called the house at 2:45 a.m., waking up the kkk household. When the answering maching got activiated, my first thought was "who died?" But I'm guessing it was a wrong number because there was no messge and the Caller ID had it listed as a "private call." Bastards. I'm now crashing with two-and-a-half hours to go in my workday. If this would have been at 4:30 a.m., at least I would have been woken up 30 minutes before my alarm goes off anyway. But noooooo, it has to be two-plus hours hours.
11:45 a.m.
• You know, everybody loves the term "Limousine Liberal," but it just doesn't seem to pack the punch it once did. After all, the Left-Wing Elite seems to be wasting more resources now than they ever did, what with their fancy houses and overseas trips. I think a more appropriate term should be "Private Plane Progressive." If Rush uses this line in the future, at least I'll know he reads my blog.
8:45 a.m.
• LOL, on Boortz's local morning show, he just called former senator's Max Cleland's "chief of staff" a "little asshole." Awesome.
8:30 a.m.
• This was the highlight of Boortz's show yesterday, and I knew there would be someone complaining about this segment. I was right. Hilarious.
10:30 p.m.
• So I just got done watching the new “Bad News Bears.” Sure it was pretty much the same as the old version, but actually it wasn’t all that bad. I’m not a huge fan of the first film, so I’m not going to go “OMG they changed it to make it all PC and shit.” In fact, it seemed like this version was more offensive. There were some things I thought were better in the ‘70s version (like how the chick ends up “losing” the bet with that Kelly kid), but on the other hand there were some modern-day gags I liked (the cripple catching the ball at the end was cute). Oh, yeah. And how can you go wrong with dialogue like this?
And I have no idea who Marcia Gay Harden was until this film, but damn was she a MILF, even for a lawyer.
One thing that struck me though was it would actually be cool to coach a team like this, if only because you could get some non-PC company to sponsor the uniforms. I’ve mentioned before that there’s this bar/restaurant down the street from me whose owner puts up this kind of stuff on his marquee all the time. His most recent line is something about getting wetbacks out of the country (don’t worry, commies, he hates W., too). I’d love to have him as my team’s sponsor. I’d let him put stuff on the back of the jerseys like…
Want to see more. Peep this.
7 p.m.
• He came. He saw. He stole elections. He shifted hurricanes to black neighborhoods. He sloppily constructed levees in said black neighborhoods. He made Halliburton billions of dollars.
I <{ Karl Rove.
8:30 p.m.
• Get over it animal-rights people. It's domesticated. It's not a tiger. Don't try to rehab it into its "natural habitat." Just let it do its thing on someone's property that's willing to adopt the animal.
Wait a second, JAIL TIME? My crack-whore sister-in-law has done much worse in her life than take an antelope home with her and stays out of the big house. Hell, my brother-in-law one time told some cops looking for the crack-whore that he would take them to her apartment so they could haul her off in cuffs. No deal.
8:15 p.m.
• So I watched “Alien” for the first time in years. Was better the third time around but I still like the sequel better. Hudson is one of my favorite movie characters, and if I were ever to go out like he did I’d want to also be busting out curses with every other word. However, “Alien” still pisses me off in the scene when the black guy sacrifices his life while the chick just sits there and screams. Bitch, run.
• After “Alien,” I tuned into the hippie IFC channel and saw the Henry Rollins show. After hearing his guest, Gore Vidal, talk for 30 seconds about how Republicans stole the ’04 election in Ohio, I laughed and changed the channel.
• I’m getting a rise out of those “viva Viagra” ads, but it has nothing to do with my junk. Who comes up with these ideas?
• You know, there’s some things that I just don’t want to know about.
9 p.m.
• Well, so much for the "fire Ozzie" talk I have heard in the sports media.
I bet "Around the Horn" panelist Jay Mariotti loves this news. I bet he loves this web site even more. Wow. I mean, I goof on Racist Dusty, among others. But I haven't devoted a web site to these people. At least not yet.
7:45 p.m.
• So now there's some talk in the media about MTV losing it's appeal.
I can tell you the exact time when I said "fuck MTV." It was during a video awards show in the 1990s. The Beastie Boys'
was nominated for video of the year. What won instead? Aerosmith's
Seriously, WTF? I guess it could have been worse. That piece of shit "Everybody Hurts" could have won instead. I have nothing bad to say about "Heart-Shaped Box." I was indifferent to Nirvana back then, but I'll listen to them every once in a while today.
2:30 p.m.
• Today truly is a somber day for America. Collectively, we must all bow our heads in sorrow and never forget the evil that was unexpectedly thrust upon us.
But enough talking about the final season of “Charmed,” which get released on DVD today, and that godawful Billie character the writers created. A national tragedy indeed.
kkk's Top 103 Posters
Number 11: sfaJack
After you think about it for a while, you realize there’s nothing really spectacular about sfaJack. But that’s not a bad thing. We all can’t be part of a fraternity, get arrested on a frequent basis, molested by uncles or have indy fed wrestling experiences. There’s a large number of us that have insignificant, boring lives. But that’s OK. It’s people like us that make this country work. If it weren’t for saps like sfa and myself getting up for work, paying taxes and keeping this economy humming, then Pedro wouldn’t be sneaking across the southern border to pick lettuce and Mohammad wouldn’t be sneaking across the northern border to blow up a commerce center. I mean, Jesus, I can’t think of a single thing Jack has posted that warrants reflecting on. But that’s OK. It’s people like Jack that make up the “silent majority” which have helped keep the commie faggots from trying to socialize every part of our lives, and I don’t mean socialize in a Myspace sort of way. I’m sure after a short while of wedded bliss, sfaJill will squirt out a few kids, and Jack will continue punching that timecard until his timecard gets punched out by the man upstairs. But that’s OK. We’re all on the job for a limited time, and because I still can’t think of one worthwhile thing Jack has posted, I dedicate the following to my kkk Bowl participant that always hits the glass ceiling come playoff time:
Well I can stand beside
Ideals I think are right
And I can stand beside
The idea to stand and fight
I do believe
There's a dream for everyone
This is our country
Now I’m going to go and say
Some left-wing hippie shit
Because GM won’t bother to promote
This verse one little bit
George Soros is my hero
And Hitlery gets me hard
This is our country
From the east coast
To the west coast
Down the Dixie Highway
To the Great Society that got washed out
This is our country
Here’s another stanza
That will go unheard by Chevy
And now it’s time for my ideology
To get real hot and heavy
And I love Blacks and Gays and Latinos
As long as they don't move next door
This is our country
From the east coast
To the west coast
Down the Dixie Highway
To the Great Society that got washed out
This is our country
The dream is still alive
Some day it will come true
In 2008 it’s a real possibility
To folks like me and you
So take the underclass to the polls
And promise them free cheese
This is our country
From the east coast
To the west coast
Down the Dixie Highway
To the Great Society that got washed out
This is our country
And if you don't understand what you read above, then you don't read many of my posts do you, Abdul?
4:15 p.m.
• Damn you George W. Bush. Next time you try to destroy a city, you better do it right.
• Wow. JaMarcus Russell is a genius. Sign a big-ass contract and get out of playing with the Raiders for as long as possible. Good job.
• I'm curious to see what the bad-ass commish has in store for the spying Pats.
Hey, if you don't take surveillance on the opposition, the terrorist have already won.
• Ever have one of those days where you worked your ass off, looked back at quittin' time and thought, "What the hell did I just do for eight hours?"
9:30 p.m.
• It's a shame Mark Madden wasn't on his ESPN radio show today. I was looking forward to his take on the Pats-spying-on-Jets story. Especially since it now has a Steeler angle.
Having remembered those championship games, it was more than "stealing signs" that got the Pats those wins. I'm still trying to figure out how they stole the sign for "returning a punt for a touchdown." Then again, it wasn't me that busted my ass all year for a chance at the Super Bowl only to get beaten twice by the same team. I'd probably be bitter, too. Hell, I'm bitter now.
Oh, and the Pats got off light, imo.
6:30 p.m.
• Boy it's a good thing Greg Oden stayed in college and didn't opt for the NBA and all those millions of dollars. Why, he could bring Ohio State a March Madness title!
Nevermind.
• I think there's a type-o in this article. It said reduce crime.
7:45 p.m.
• So I was driving from work en route to pick up the better half, and I noticed this plane flying around with some banner attached to it. What was it? A picture of one of those cavemen with “Geico” printed. So a car insurance company is promoting itself by appearing in a way that will make motorists look up and away from traffic. Brilliant.
• Moron.
MikeSC was talking about this over at the other place, and I really don’t care. This douche brought it on himself. I say zap him some more. I love it when people go, “Don’t do anything/I’m not resisting,” but yet are resisting.
• I was in Target today and walked by the book section. There I saw Bill Clinton’s latest book titled “Giving: How Each of Us Can Change the World.” What was the book next to his? I don’t know, but it was titled “Quickie.”
8:30 p.m.
• So this weekend I saw some MSNBC pseudo-“To Catch a Predator” thing that dealt with child sex shops in Asia. Holy Christ was that messed up. Eight-year-olds promising blowjobs you’d like or your money back. Funny thing was they busted some guy from Oklahoma. He was giving the undercover guy there some “tips” on how to get away with banging kids, and when he was confronted on this back in the States (actually, it was Guam but whatever) you could see his face turn pale once he found out he was busted. Anyway, after this show was some “American Runaways” show, where these idiot teens were homeless, despite having ample opportunity to get housing. My favorite was some trans-sexual/gender who got booted out of her government-funded apartment because he/she couldn’t follow the rules. You know, oppressive things like get a job interview, visit a food pantry and not bringing Johns back to the pad for prostitution. And I’m supposed to feel bad for these people?
12:30 p.m.
• So we went to see Ron White last night. Eh. Why the hell were people laughing at material he has already sold on millions upon millions of DVDs? Oh well, if it makes them go home happy, then so be it. Actually, there were several events that happened earlier in the day that made me laugh even more than the two hours I sat at the Benedum Center.
Before leaving for this event, Mrs. kkk and I were watching some house show where several people buy houses and the former owners talk about what they liked about their houses and the new owners talk about all the wholesale changes they are going to do to said living residences. This episode centered around several people from New Jersey. Enough said. Jesus were these people annoying. But what got me laughing was that some of these families were getting their houses and making serious changes to it. I’m not talking about a new carpet here and a new paint job there. This one family totally flattened the second floor to the two-story house they purchased. My question is if you’re going to do this kind of remodeling, wouldn’t it have been easier to just find a different house? This couple bought the house for $500,000 and they had a $150,000 budget to remodel. You know what I would do with a $150,000 budget to make remodeling adjustments? I’d buy a big television, PAY OFF my house and put the rest of the money in the bank. Oh well, it’s not my money.
After watching this show, we left for downtown Shittsburgh for dinner. Mrs. kkk took me to the Hard Rock Cafe – the first time I’ve ever been in one of these. Overpriced food, but whatever. This was her plan. What was funny is that she made reservations so when we got there we only had a 5-10 minute wait. While waiting, there were a handful of groups, ranging from 2-8 that tried to get seated only to be told there was an approximate 30-minute wait. Uh, people, this is a SATURDAY EVENING in one of the more happening parts of an urban center. Do you expect to get immediate seating? The best moment came with the family of 8 learning that there would be a considerable wait and the husband/dad threw his arms up in the air. Yeah, that’ll do something. Jackass. There was another group of young people who must have been doing something homecoming-related that went in and out in a matter of minutes. Seriously, RESERVATIONS. They are your friend.
