6:45 p.m.
• Gee, I hope this doesn’t ruin Huckabee’s chances in California. After all, that state has been up for grabs in presidential elections in recent memory.
• So I guess a person has to wait until the president he/she tried to kill actually dies before being let free. That's nice.
11 p.m.
• So today the better half had a case of the morning sickness and didn’t go into work. As she was calling off, she asked me what excuse she should use. My response: “Uh, you’re pregnant, you threw up and you feel like shit.” She wanted to say our roads were bad from the overnight snowfall. Right.
• I really don’t care so much about this story....
... but reading it brought back memories of this local Chinese buffet my friend and I went to during my college days. The food was fine and we ate our share (going to any buffet with even a somewhat full stomach is blasphemy in my opinion), but we would stay well after the lunch buffet “ended” just bs’ing. We didn’t try to get any extra food, and the place was never really crowded in the afternoon, so we weren’t keeping other customers away. However, the owners HATED us, and their reaction to us leaving was always amusing. A few years later the place burned down. Can’t remember if it was arson or not – I think some insurance fraud was suspected, but I’m not sure. Either that or they got really sick of me stopping by.
Speaking of these places, here’s another story, and it also involves Mrs. kkk. When we lived at Sappy Valley, we would go to this local Chinese buffet. Well one time the better half bit off more than she could chew from her sweet and sour pork and had to throw it back up in the bathroom. Knowing that our eating experience was over, I explained to the owner that we just came in and got one plate of food. I said that Mrs. kkk has this condition where if she doesn’t chew her food she sometimes risks regurgitation and such an incident just happened. I didn’t want to throw her food away and asked if I could just put her meal in a take-out container. After all, they also had this take-out deal where you fill a container with grub for a cheaper price than doing the buffet thing. After much skepticism, I was finally permitted to have a to-go container. By this time the better half returned from the bathroom. I told her what I did and noticed that the owner and his wife where staring at every move I was making. It was about this time when Mrs. kkk said to me, “Think you can go up there and get a few egg rolls for later?”
Sure, if you wanted to set off the machine gun turrets this place had fixed on us.
Oh, and like the article above, it would always take some prodding to get more crab legs at the State College buffet. Then again, they were just trying to make a living, so I never cared about that one seafood selection. Espeically since the local college students would empty the crab leg bin as soon as it was filled.
6:30 p.m.
• So I had “Around the Horn” on and they were talking about some golf chick saying something mean about Tiger Woods. Oh? This ought to be good. Time to make that bitch pay because no matter what she would have said/done a white man doing the same thing would be worse off 100-fold. So after the commercial break I found out what she did.
You got to be fucking kidding me. THAT? Of course, on “PTI” Wilbon was talking about this and said that he would like to watch that “Great Debaters” movie with this chick, get to the scene where there’s a lynching and then “talk about it” afterwards “over coffee.”
For fuck’s sake people, no wonder Hitlery won the primary after crying. My God are we a bunch of pussies. If certain words are soooooooooooooooooooooooooo terrible, and soooooooooooooooooooooooooo hurtful, why don’t we just ban them outright and give prison terms to people that dare say such mean things? If she would have said Tiger's wife loved his colored dong on live TV, then I could understand her getting into a bit of trouble. But lynching? Even I felt bad for this woman, and I have no idea who she is.
It could have been worse, though. She could have said that the liberal sports media gushes over Tiger because they want to see a golfer of color succeed in the PGA.
• Speaking of Hitlery, I heard a few stories after her New Hampshire win that a bunch of soccer moms decided to vote for her after she cried. Uh, lemme get this straight. The same people that were totally off on the polling results now want us to believe them when it comes to this? Next thing you know, there will be news publications out there telling us that global warming will kill us when a generation ago these same media sources told us global cooling would do us in. Boy, it’s good thing that hasn’t happened.
11:59 p.m.
• As an avid rap listener back in the 1980s and '90s, I remember hearing a number of edited songs on the radio and on albums. While many of these "kid friendly" versions were awful with the non-thug words and gaping pauses, one of my favorite edits came in one of my favorites songs of the early 1990s…
…and my jimmy runs deep … so deep … so deep put her BUTT to sleep...
Speaking of this time, I was listening to Comcast’s Old School Rap music channel. It’s not a permanent channel, but it pops up often enough. However, today they played “Nothing but a G Thing” and “Rump Shaker.” Old School? Fuck. Old school is Doug E. Fresh and the Treacherous Three. Oh well, I’m sure someone in his 40s would disagree with that. C’est la vie.
• From my 5/7 post:
Actually, the better half used to not be a vengeful bitch. That is until meeting me. Now she is almost as bad as me, although she still has way more tact than me. However, in this instance, I have to say she won’t need to torpedo the operation because her boss will have no trouble doing that shortly after she leaves. We’re still trying to figure out the best way to exit. Because we don’t have a crystal ball, she’s looking now for a new job. However, if we knew that she would be gainfully employed September 1 at a new workplace, I would want her to stay until her final day of work on August 31. This way she can suck up as much money from this grant as possible and make her boss feel more uncomfortable than she already feels. Then again, the sooner she leaves, the greater the train wreck will be. Oddly enough, when I knew my time at my former place of employment was going to be limited, I actually worked harder. The reason? Whenever I would leave, the quality of work I did would be magnified, and believe me I was right. Not only is the work downright embarrassing, but also it’s taking FOUR people (not including the person who replaced me) to do what I did by myself. And the work is also getting out almost a month later than it should be. Sometimes it’s best to not do a thing to torpedo your ex-employers; many of them can do that without your assistance.
• Speaking of SFAJack and his possible 15 minutes of fame, back when the Clinton/Lewinsky was unearthed I was part of one of those “man on the street” interviews. I was headed to my job at the theater and I noticed this reporter and photographer trying to get people to give their opinion of the story. I figured I’d help them out – besides, my one journalism class had a project where I needed to interview a reporter so I figured I’d do a quid pro quo. I gave him a nice quote and he gave me an easy way to accomplish an annoying class project a few weeks later. My quote? It went something like, “It’s too early to say anything one way or the other, but I think he should resign for other reasons.”
6 p.m.
• So my little part of the country has been in the news as of late. The latest DRAMAH~! Is an out-of-state chick that claimed some black guy robbed her and carved a “B” on her face after seeing her car’s McCain bumper sticker.
This just didn’t seem right from the start. Don’t believe me? Check the other place.
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And in response to a Jobber of the Week post:
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On top of my “rape”comment, said black-dark-skinned man carved a LETTER into her cheek. A letter. Trust me, the government schools in the Shittsburgh region aren’t that effective. And one would have to assume the perp would be able to READ the words "McCain" and "Palin."
However, what I REALLY got a kick of was this shithead who said his voters are RACIST~!
Oh please let this be the year you finally lose. Murtha is like our region’s own Robert Byrd in terms of creating his own little economy with DC money.
• Hey, who says the BUSH ECONOMY is all bad?
The fuck -- Illegals come and go from the U.S. for CHRISTMAS?! I'm surprised there's nothing in this article about Pedro not being able to buy presents for his 12 kids.
KKK’s Top 103 Posters
Number 59: Fazzle
A three-year kkk Bowl vet with the Carolina Panthers, plus I remember seeing a picture of him surrounded by some cute chicks that were around his age. Good work. He’s also the second poster in a row on this list who has talked about paying for sex. Weird.
And now a word from the expert panel I have put together to comment on the people I’ve listed.
From EricMM:
• Something I had believed all my life has just been taken away from me. No, it's not blacks having the same voting rights as me (that news hit hard a few elections ago). It's Pluto no longer being classified as a planet. And to think there are actual people out there who debate this kind of shit.
• The hell? Normally it’s the dogs that are in front of their owners running in every which way.
• New York Slimes, please please please transfer Paul Krugman to Beijing. If some researcher can get three years in jail for “fraud,” Krugman will get at least 25 to life with his next economics-based column.
• While I’m on the Journalists-in-trouble kick, I don’t know why terrorists thought they could get anywhere by capturing cable television reporter Steve Centanni. What, did they think they now have a direct line to the White House? OMG FAUX NEWS LOL2006. Wait a second. There are people who seriously think this. Oops.
• So Forbes Magazine declares Milwaukee to the America’s drunkest city. I guess those people really do like to have some wine with that cheese.
• If you had any questions regarding my recent rant about lottery people, this should put those doubts to rest. Why bother to bold-face all the funny parts of this story?
• Well they say Famous deaths always come in threes. First was James Brown. Next was Gerald Ford. Who will be number three? Saddam Hussein?
Then again, that Peter Boyle hippie might have been number one in this trio. Who knows. Regarding the death of Ford, I never paid much attention to his presidency. I remember hearing on Rush’s show once some sub-host (either Tony Snow or Michael Medved) said he had the most vetos of any four-year president. He pardoned Nixon and lost to that doofus Jimmy Carter. He also played football. That’s all I got.
• Interesting. We named our most recent kitty acquisition Max, and there’s a weiner dog named Max that lives across from us. Interesting note: last winter (or was it two winters ago?) I was watching my Max looking out our front-door window and he had that look whenever a cat sees something outside like a bird or a bug. I looked out the window to see what caught his eye, and it was Max romping about outside. Suddenly, this stupid dog ran in front of a moving car, and for a second I thought I was going to witness the premature end to the neighborhoods dachshund. Forturnatly, the car wasn’t speeding and was able to stop before hitting the dog. Had this vehicle killed Max, I wouldn’t have blamed the driver for this one. I let the neighbors know of what had happened and unfortunately for Max he now spends most of his outside time on a leash next to his bigger canine companion. It’s a shame, too, because it was fun to throw snowballs at him as I went to get the mail and he did his pseudo-charge at me that would switch into to a full-fledged retreat the moment I turned around to face the ravenous beast. There were also times I remember Max romping about in my yard, and even up to my front door, much to the chagrin of my three kids.
Oh, yeah. Here’s the story that prompted me to type the above paragraph:
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.”
8:15 p.m.
• So the better half and I had a bit of a disagreement today. Of course it was serious. Was it over money or family planning? Of course not. We were at Kohl’s going through the clearance racks, and after picking out a pair of pants for 80 percent off retail price and several “spa” things that chicks like that were marked 90 percent off (early Christmas presents – good job, honey), we went to a register to check out. The first casher told us that she was closed, even though she was waiting on another customer. Oh shit, did I miss the “closed” sign. Well, where the hell is it? There? You can’t even see the damn thing. Oh well, not a big deal. I just pride myself in seeing if a register is open before walking up to it. Hell, in baseball you’re an All-Star if you only get out seven of nine plate appearances.
Then we went to the second register. Oh Christ, this guy has about 20 kiddie outfits and the casher doesn’t know how to ring the discounts up. Oh well, there’s no other cashier around so I just have to bide my time. At least when this happens at the grocery store I have the tabloids to keep me occupied. In fact, this past week while waiting for someone to figure out how to self-checkout, I picked up “Star” (I think) and read about how Paris Hilton got kicked off a stage by 50 Cent during some Super Bowl party. The photo alone more than made up for my time waiting. I’ll tell you what though, I’m now realizing how much the Weekly World News meant to me because now most of the magazines by the grocery store registers are aimed at either cooking enthusiasts or teenyboppers. (God only knows what will happen to me if I pick up the latter magazine whose cover teases us with 10 ways to get that cute guy to notice you in math class.) Yeah, there’s the Enquirer or Star, but I hate thumbing through those issues because people might actually think I take that shit seriously. At least when you had Batboy or a public figure next to a UFO landing, it was presumed that this checkout read-through was not meant to be taken seriously.
…
What the hell was I talking about? Oh, yeah. Kohl’s.
So I was zoning out at this register when someone said the common, “I can help whoever is next in line over here.” Now my policy when it comes to this situation is that if I’m next in the current I just bide my time. I already invested a small chunk of my life standing in this aisle so I might as well follow it through much like someone endures a shitty book or movie. Then there’s the other speed factor: by the time you get your stuff and move over, that “open” register will be occupied. Of course, the people standing behind me in line were telling me to go there and Mrs. kkk grabbed her spa shit and walked over. There was no going back now. What a surprise, there was someone already at the register and she had even MORE shit to scan than the person I was originally standing behind. Well at least the people who encouraged me to change lanes followed and were stuck, too. Fuckers. It’s just like those motorists who give you the “wave” to go ahead at an intersection even though they have the right of way. JUST GO ALREADY! It’s situations like this when an accident occurs. You may have all the best intentions in the world, but you are not controlling the flow of traffic in other lanes. I have the Stop sign, you have the right of way: I’ll wait an extra minute because I know if I pull out in front of you there will be a vehicle speeding in the lane next to you not knowing of my presence because you’re blocking his view.
…
What the hell was I talking about? Oh, yeah. Kohl’s.
Well, there’s not much more to say. The person who I was originally behind was out the door while I was waiting for the new person in front of me in the new aisle to get her shit and go. I really wasn’t all that annoyed, but one thing that does get me a bit is that when you are in front of someone that takes 5-10 minutes to get a transaction processed it only takes your purchase about 20 seconds. It’s like chipping in for a prostitute, waiting an hour for the guy in front of you to finish his thing and then blowing your load after four thrusts. (Not like that’s ever happened to me before … ohhhh no. Four strokes? Not me.)
…
What the hell was I talking about? Oh, yeah. Kohl’s.
As we were walking to the car, Mrs. kkk was pissed because that lady we were in front of at the newly opened register went ahead of us because we were “next in line.” I disagreed because when it comes to open registers it’s survival of the fittest. We then drove home.
…
I just typed 860+ words on my wait at a checkout aisle and I didn’t get into a fight with a customer, cashier or Mrs. kkk. The hell? Oh well, at least it wasn’t me who had to read through all this. Well I want to leave my adoring readers happy. Hey Ho! Here we go.
Yeah, I know it’s not the “Blitzkrieg Bop,” but I always liked “Judy is a Punk” better, and it’s from 1974. Guess there wasn’t enough in the petty cash account for everyone to have leather jackets (or shirts for that matter).
• Uh oh. Bush’s RIGHT-WING Supreme Court is making their voice heard on abortion rights. Now it’ll be easier than ever for abortion protestors to intimidate Planned Parenthood workers and knocked-up women wanting to get rid of some excess baggage. Oh, wait. The decision was 8-0? Never mind.
• If only our legal system worked as hard on other matters like eminent domain as they do trying to find ways for convicted murderers to get out of paying their debts to society our world would be a better place.
• I have to do a mea culpa of sorts. One anonymous reader responded to my suggestion a few days ago of white-collar workers documenting what they do throughout the day by saying, “Most of what these people do online all day is shop, watch porn and gamble.” I stand corrected.
• Normally I am a pretty laid-back driver, but over the last few months I have been suffering from road rage. I can’t help it. It’s not the fact some asshole cuts me off almost plows into my car. What pisses me off is their blatant disregard for almost damaging the vehicle I’m in. One thing that really pisses me off is when you’re in front of a large vehicle going up a hill. The truck has its blinkers on and is in the right-hand lane going 20 mph. That’s fine and dandy; I have no problem with this. However, when I put on my turn signal to change lanes, I almost always wait an extra second because I know that the asshole behind me is going to try and zoom around me instant I start to merge in another lane. I can’t begin to count the number of times people would have slammed into my car’s bumper had I not been the cautious one.
Oh I fucking hate those people. If I’m driving the better half’s car, a 2004 cavalier, I practice my “careful pause” before switching lanes because this vehicle is our household’s primary mode of transportation. But if I’m driving my ’88 Corsica that already has one wheel in the junkyard, I say “fuck you’ and go into the other lane regardless, making the dickhead behind me have to slam on their brakes or swerve back into the right-hand lane. Fuck you bitch. If you would have put on your goddamn turn signal when this all began, I’d have no problem; I’d even let you pass me even though I put my turn signal on first. Some people need to be taken out to a nearby field and shot.
As much as this sort of thing happens to me, I’m glad to know I’m not alone. One place I hate driving in is the grocery store parking lot. Christ, that place is a land mine with cars pulling out every which way. This is why I always park near the back of the local grocery store’s parking lot, even when it’s only half-full. And I was reminded today why I do this.
I was walking to this store and I went in front of this old guy with a huge Buick backing out. The reason I chose to walk in front of his car was because I know better than to be behind a senior citizen when they’re in reverse. Unfortunately, this yuppie mini-van didn’t know this rule, and the old guy almost plowed into this poor lady driving the vehicle. What made me laugh about the whole thing is that there was no way that mini-van was in any blind spot; she was directly behind the Buick. I guess when you reach a certain age you just don’t care about accumulating points on your driver’s license.
• I’m not too good at giving directions, even though I try my darndest. Back when I used to work at the convenience store, I used to get plenty of people asking me where certain streets/buildings/etc. were and I’d just go “derp.” The only exception to this was on the weekends, when a local flea market would open. The reason I knew the location of this swap meet? Because it was literally only a few miles down the street from my workplace. Even though I always started out trying to be as helpful as I could to these people, it almost always ended in disaster. Despite the flea market only being a straight shot away, the handful of lost customers who asked me where this place was would ALWAYS question my directions of “just go straight through the intersection on Wildwood Road and it will appear on your left a few miles down.” One time this guy even whipped out a hand-written map and said that’s not where the flea market was located according to his directions, to which my response was, “well then follow your map and ignore the directions of someone who has lived in this area for six years and has visited this flea market on several occasions.” That response didn’t go over too well.
Flea market pilgrims aside, the reason I always try to be as helpful as I can to someone lost is because I’m, for the most part, a believer in karma and know if I’m ever in need of directions I’d want to get someone who is as good-intentioned as me when it comes to helping wayward travelers. Well, early this morning I was at work and realized I needed to get batteries for the digital camera. I headed out to the nearby grocery store, and as I was approaching the sliding doors, this black lady in some rusted-out hooptie called out to me. I approached her and she told me that she had gotten off the wrong exit off I-376 and was looking for the local Olive Garden. Now I only work in this area and don’t venture out much, so at first I told her that I couldn’t think of one around here. However, the little hamster in his wheel that powers my thought process kicked it into overdrive while this lady was explaining her predicament. Suddenly, I remembered where the Olive Garden was – I drove past there a few times while exploring the area when I first started my job. The problem was that I wasn’t sure of all the street names from where we were to where she would have had to go. I told her that I remembered where the Olive Garden was located. Because she was parked in the middle of the road and causing a backup in traffic, I said that if she would park her car I could write the directions down for her. She suddenly snapped in a ghetto fashion, “I ain’t got no time fo’ dat! I was ‘sposed to be o’er dere’ five minutes ago!” and sped off. Bitch. Oh well, I think I got a few extra points from the Karma Gods on that one.
• So the NFL powers-that-be decided that excessive touchdown celebrations will result in a 15-yard penalty. Lame. Sure many of these pre-planned dances and stunts are stupid, but are they really that bad? I actually enjoyed Chad Johnson’s antics last year, and before Terrell Owens drew the ire of ESPN for picking on Donovan McNabb, I was entertained by a number of his touchdown celebrations; I admit to being amused at that thing he did with the pom-pom’s a few years ago, not to mention that incident in Dallas where he went to midfield and defaced the 50-yard Star.
• While some creative end-zone celebrations may get a chuckle out of me, this story gets a full-fledged LOL. With all the PC/Affirmative Action bullshit that’s run rampant on universities today, it’s only poetic justice that there’s at least one college out there that is turning away more qualified female applicants in favor of less qualified male ones. The reason? Because there are less males going to Big Academia than women. That’s right, baby. Diversity is a two-way street, and if it’s really diverse it’s at least a four-way intersection. I especially loved the way this sure-fire feminazi ended her article, “I admire the brilliant successes of our daughters. To parents and the students getting thin (rejection) envelopes, I apologize for the demographic realities.” You ought to be apologizing for your institution’s practice of discrimination.
• So Bill Clinton said a few words at Ann Richards’ funeral, and afterward Richards’ daughter thanked him for, and I quote, "all the great times that you shared with our mom." Sigh. Anyway, here’s something to ponder: if Ann would have just defeated W. in that governor’s race so many moons ago, just imagine what the world might be like today. And I’m sure you commies out there reading this are probably having different thoughts than me right now. You’re probably thinking about unnecessary wars and record deficits. I’m thinking about Al Gore being in a second term with Hitlery getting primed (more so than she is now) to take over the White House in ’08. One person’s heaven is another person’s hell, I guess.
• I know dick about college football, but these last two weeks have been great. First it was Penn State getting crushed by Notre Dame a week ago, and now today Michigan manhandled the Irish by a score of 47-21. Woo-hoo. Two teams I hate. Two weeks with one of them getting a beat down. But hey, the Nittany Lions sure showed those Youngstown State Penguins today, beating them 37-3.
• Some guy named Michael Kuhnhausen hired a hit man (allegedly, of course) that attacked his estranged wife with a claw hammer as she entered her house. The woman then strangled to death her attacker. But wait, it gets better. Inside a backpack the hit man had with him was a day planner that had the entry, “Call Mike, Get letter.” If you’re going to get someone to off your wife, I think it would be in your best interests to look for someone who didn’t clean up spooge at the porn shop you are employed at.
• So the FDA doesn’t want me to eat spinach because it could possibly contain E. coli -- now do you hippies understand my reasoning behind my “All authority must be questioned” response Political Compass question? Sometimes Big Brother really does know what’s good for you.
• Artic seals are now being found in North Carolina. Maybe those global-warming people have a point. Then again, wouldn't that mean the water is getting colder? Or is that because the ice caps are melting, making the oceans chillier? Ah hell, I've lost track what is and isn't a result of global warming.
• There seems to be a brouhaha going on in Europe about models that are “too thin.” First there was a stink at some stupid Madrid fashion show, and now Britain is getting in on the action. I never understood people in the fashion industry find 80-pound women walking up and down some runway to be appealing to the eyes. Watching chicks that make Laura Flynn Boyle look like Rosie O’ Donnell doesn’t make me want to buy the latest fashions from Paris. Then again, most of these fashion designers are queer anyway, so it’s not like they know what constitutes a good-looking woman. Give me a regular-sized, normal-looking chick wearing jeans and a t-shirt with some sports logo on the front over some string bean with tits smaller than my knuckles wearing a backless outfit that’s exposing her ribs to anyone unlucky enough to pass her by.
And speaking of Ms. Boyle, I found this tidbit from Wikipedia:
Guess Laura wasn't thin enough.
• The other day this lady from Comcast called and asked if I would like to take part in a survey. Normally I don’t pick up the phone when it comes to telemarketers, and I hang up on them without a second thought if one manages to slip past my Caller I.D. However, I have a soft spot in my heart for these survey people. First off, they’re not trying to sell me anything. Secondly, if I give them my input chances are the company they work for might cater more to my interests. Thirdly, I used to work as one of these phone survey people. Granted my time of employment at this profession was just seven hours, but it was seven hours nevertheless. When I moved to Sappy Valley in early 1999, I needed a job right away to pay the rent. I saw an ad for phone interviewers, and I figured this would be an easy way to earn a few dollars, especially since the ad mentioned the people we were to be interviewing had already agreed to take part. Of course I was outright lied to in the interview when I asked, still a bit wary about the “arranged interviews” part of that classified, if there would be any cold calling. I was told “no,” but when I sat down by my phone I was given a sheet of names and numbers. No cold-calling my ass. I gave it a go, but after my first day’s six-hour shift and one hour into my second day of work I had enough and left. There were pre-arranged interviews that some people were doing, but most of us were doing this cold-calling shit. It was then that I realized many people (or to put it more precisely, two out of every hundred) don’t like taking phone surveys.
When this Comcast lady called, I asked her right away how long this was going to take. I added that I didn’t really care; I just wanted an idea of how long I’d be on the phone. This question, at least in my personal experience, usually results in a customer hang-up, and I could tell this lady was hesitant to tell me. After answering some basic multiple-choice questions from the script that she was rushing to get through, we went our separate ways; me to exercise, her to probably get rejected by 49 other people before finding that next person willing to let her know how many times in a month he or she orders premium movies from Comcast’s On Demand service (my answer to this question was, of course, “no,” because I’m a cheap bastard). One thing that took me by surprise though was the question of where do movies first become available after they leave the theater – on DVD for sale, on DVD for rent, on premium channels, or on pay-per-view/On Demand services. I thought movies, for the most part, came out on pay-per-view or on HBO before heading to Best Buy, but I guess I was wrong considering the next question this lady asked went something like, “If recently released movies came out on On Demand before they were made available for sale or renting would you be more/less likely to order it On Demand.” Oh well. Hopefully my responses to this survey will results in Comcast scrapping its pay-per-view services and instead giving all Digital Cable subscribers fresh-from-the-theater box-office features in the “Free Movies” section of On Demand. Then again maybe not.
• There are plenty of red-diaper doper babies in the Big Apple, but thankfully there are one or two of them with a smitten of common sense. Instead of whining about a rouge government, the New York Civil Liberties Union ought to be pissed off at terrorists that make bag searches a good idea to most Americans.
• While I’m on the subject of terrorists, what’s the big deal here? Maybe these fine Middle Eastern men have big families, thus needing 1,000 cell phones. After all, what is little Abdul to do when Jihad Camp lets out early? You actually expect him to wait out by the street with all the unholy swine? Why, that’s one of the worst things you can do to… come on, you know the rest.
• It’s bad enough NFL players have to worry about on-the-field injuries during training camp, practices and preseason games. Now they have to fret about renegade mascots driving golf carts?
• Woah. Heath Shuler is running for office. Too bad he’s a Democrat. Oh, and those six words “Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi” do strike enough fear into me that I would probably vote for a Republican I don’t care for over a conservative Democrat in a Congressional race. Good thing I’m satisfied with my GOP Rep. Tim Murphy.
• Last night I got a recorded phone call from Samuel L. Jackson telling me to go see “Snakes on a Plane.” Alrighty then.
• Is there nobody out there that the Bush Administration doesn’t disenfranchise? I’d be curious to know how much of a percentage of votes Nevada gets with its “none of the above” option.
5 p.m.
• Regarding this whole Paris Hilton going back to jail thing.
What the hell is wrong with people? Jesus Christ.
OMG THE BILLIONARE HOTEL HEIRESS IS GETTING HER JUST DESSERTS JOHN EDWARDS USED HER IN A CAMPAIGN LINE NO MOM NO HELP ME I’M GOING TO HIT THE BUTTON 10000 TIMES IN JAIL BECAUSE I HAVE ANXIETY FROM BEING IN THE BIG HOUSE AND I’M COLD HUNGRY AND NOT ABLE TO WAX OMG OMG OMG OMG~!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh, by the way, much of our air traveling has been grinded to a halt. But wait a second, IT’S PARIS AND SHE’S IN SOME CAR DRIVING OFF TO JAIL WAIT THAT WAS A SWERVE SHE’S IN ANOTHER VEHICLE AND SHE’S IN NEED OF MEDICAL ATTENTION BECAUSE NOT BEING FREE MADE HER SICK AND THAT PARTY SHE THREW AFTER BEING BACK HOME WILL BE FOR NIL BECAUSE NOW SHE’S GOING BACK TO THE BIG HOUSE FOR REAL OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG~!
Please note I won’t be wearing any “Free Paris” gear anytime soon. She should just serve her time, shut her mouth and thank the deity upstairs that nobody was killed when she got shit-faced and decided to drive. However, the media coverage on this is more absurd than the actual story itself. Oh, and for those people saying only rich celebrities get away from jail time, meet my crack-whore sister-in-law. Not only has this woman been arrested numerous times, but even when she has outstanding warrants and gets picked up she still hasn’t spent time behind bars. One time this cop called my brother-in-law’s house asking for the crack-whore (she used her brother’s phone number for contact information on some document), and the brother-in-law said he would direct the cops to the shitty apartment she lives at and knock on the door for them. Nothing.
All that being said though, come on, Paris, using the “being hungry” line as an excuse to get out of jail? Surely you can come up with better material than that in a bid for your freedom.
1:15 p.m.
• The Amnesty bill looks to have been kicked to the curb, so the invasion has been postponed –– for now.
Well, actually, the illegals will still be pouring over the border, but at least now they won’t be giving voting rights/Social Security/etc. Oh who am I kidding? Many probably already are doing this. I’m sure this will bite me in the ass later, when a President Hitlery, along with a Commie Congress, approves an even WORSE illegal immigration bill in the next few years, but sometimes you just have to draw a line in the sand.
• If you went over to read about Swift Terror stroking himself because he caught a RIGHT-WING RADIO guy in a gaffe, then you will understand this next entry. There’s a local guy in Shittsburgh named Quinn that I used to listen to. He used to be the guy I listened to until 8:30 a.m. before heading on-line to listen to Neal Boortz. However, the last few weeks I’ve been listening to archive editions of the Dennis Miller show. I must admit I’m digging this program. I’ve had a weird journey with Dennis. I LOVED his on SNL’s Weekend Update. His HBO show was OK. His opening bit was hit-or-miss, I didn’t really like the guest portion of the show, and my favorite segment was the end with him captioning images. I HATED him on Monday Night Football. When 9/11 took place and he turned into some hipster conservative, or whatever, I didn’t immediately beat off because he was saying, “Bush is the shizzle.” I gave his CNBC show a try, and I actually liked it; judging from the ratings, it seems I was the only one. There is one thing that influences my opinion of Miller, and that is we went to the same college (not at the same time mind you –– I’m not that old). The circle-jerking my alma mater did back in the mid-1990s was enough to make me vomit. Thankfully, I got the hell out of that shit hole right before NBC’s “Providence” hit it big; the lead actress on that show was a fellow alumni. Lord only knows how that place fawned all over her.
Where was I going with this? Oh, yeah. Quinn. About once every few weeks I would e-mail him from work while listening to his show to clarify a gaffe he or a caller committed. Generally it’s little stuff like the last time I shot him a message. The last time I had his show on some caller was bitching about something-or-other and brought up the rap group Public Enemy that released the song “Fuck the Police.” I, of course, e-mailed Quinn clarifying that caller’s remarks. The rap group that produced “Fuck the Police,” was N.W.A., not Public Enemy. I also let Quinn know the meaning of N.W.A. –– No Whites Allowed.
I’m just playing, any baller in the rap game knows it’s “Niggaz Wit’ Attitudes.” Word yo.
6:30 p.m.
• So a while back I talked about my fun trip to the airport. Might as well put the finishing touches to this epic adventure.
I was at the Albany airport for a flight to my buddy Ed Rendell’s former stomping ground: Philly. The flight itself wasn’t too bad. However, our “flight attendant” was this fat early twenty-something with greasy hair. Good God, Larry the Cable Guy was right: The Oakridge Boys with titties. Anyway, I didn’t really care because I just read my copy of U.S. Snooze and World Distort. Oh, and every time the flight attendant would go on that intercom thingy he’d be laughing. OK. Now the flight itself was rather uneventful. However, the landing… well…
It’s around 7:15 p.m. when we land. I have a connecting flight at 8:30. No problem. We head over to the dock/terminal/whatever that place is called where we all leave. The pilot tells us that another plane is already there. Uh, OK. I don’t fly enough to know if this is a common practice; I’m sure Smues will set me straight. We then drive over to another dock/terminal/whatever that place is called where we all leave. It’s now 7:40 and the pilot tells us that there’s a plane in front of us and it’s BROKEN DOWN. We now drive back to the first dock/terminal/whatever that place is called where we all leave and the original plane is still there. When we finally got out it was 8.
Well so much for checking out the Philly airport.
The chick sitting next to me on this flight was antsy as hell. Not only did she have to sit next to ME, but also she had a flight to Toronto departing at 8:30. While we each shared our tales of how this nearly hour-long delay might mess with our hopes of further air travel, I did something I normally don’t do. When it was time to leave, I immediately got up to leave. Whether it’s a sporting event, movie or some other social function, I generally just sit and let everybody else leave first. What’s the point of getting up just to wait in line. I’d rather just sit back and relax while everyone else elbows each other in hopes of exiting and being stuck in gridlock. Well not tonight. I got up and dug in my heels, especially when some dumbfuck in front of me went past me to get some overhead luggage and then tried to cut back in front of me. Not tonight.
After we were all herded into the Philly airport, I thought I was in pretty good shape. I had about 20 minutes to go from Gate B to Gate A; with those moving walkways it’s be a walk in the park.
Ten minutes later and NO SIGN OF GATE A I was beginning to doubt my confidence. Thankfully I saw signs of Gate A shortly thereafter and managed to get into my seat at 8:30 sharp. I was never in any real danger of missing my flight because the thing didn’t actually take off until 15-20 minutes later anyway thanks to all the dumbfucks with too-large-for-overhead luggage and other products of the under-class gumming up the works. However, the thought of spending the night in Fast Eddie’s crib downright scares me. I must say though that from what I saw the Philly airport was rather nice. And I’m not even going to make my predictable “But then again I didn’t see any black people” joke – probably because there were a bunch. Oh well. When I travel I always make sure my wallet is properly secured.
The flight to Shittsburgh wasn’t bad, but when I went to get my luggage the question on my mind while waiting on the Philly runway during my Albany jet joyride was answered. There wasn’t enough time to get the baggage from the Albany flight onto the Shittsburgh flight. My favorite part of this came when in the “lost baggage” section with the other poor sods who made the Albany-Shittsburgh connection. We actually developed somewhat of a camaraderie with each other – either that or they were too tired and frustrated to actively avoid me.
I wish I could end this story with some huge payoff, but my bags were delivered to my door the next afternoon. Alas, and I wanted to bitch even more. I just hope that chick who was sitting next to me over the Albany skies had her luggage boarded on time; Toronto is much farther from Philly than my hood.
7 p.m.
• Can you believe what the head of the print division of Medium-Large Media said about McCain's VP selection of Palin?
Wait a second, the Slimes Editorial Board was talking about Geraldine Ferraro -- a three-term congresswoman at the time of her VP nod. Nevermind.
• Since message boards and blogs were meant for stupid lists of “favorite” and “not-so-favorite” things, coming soon will be KKK’s Top 103 Posters. A list so exciting, so heart-stopping, so utterly magnificent in production value that you will tune in two, or maybe even three, times to relive the drama and intrigue over and over and over again. Well, maybe not three “overs” because that would mean you tuned in four times … eh, you get the idea.
• All I can say is thank God for vacation time/sick days. This morning as I was getting ready for work I was thinking to myself, “Do you really have to do this today?” Of course this week I have a lot of projects due, but I’m one of those saps that likes to get things done ahead of time so I don’t end up running around like a chicken with its head cut off at the last minute trying to get a bunch of pisspoor work turned in. In addition, I get a certain amount of vacation days per year, and they have to be used up by December 31 or else I lose them. Now while many people at my place of employment choose to use a bunch up for a week or two off, I prefer to spread mine around. After all, why take a week off when you’ll end up having to work twice as hard for a week once you get back to work and have finish up the stack of assignments that were put on your desk while you were out and about? But I digress.
As I was making my morning commute I was right on schedule at around the 10- to 15-minute mark of my daily workweek drive. However, that’s when everything came to a literal grinding halt. I take Route 30 West, which passes by an Interstate Highway. I don’t go on I-376 West but it’s a nice marker to gauge my commute time. Well, about several miles before the Interstate exit, traffic was at a standstill in a place where it shouldn’t be. With the pouring rain, the better half and I figured this gridlock was probably due to an accident. The time was 6:15 a.m.; we were running a little behind schedule, but nothing serious. The time then became 6:20, then 6:30, then 6:40, and we haven’t moved an inch. Well, to be fair, we did move up a little bit, but that was because motorists in front of me were turning around and driving away. In addition, I was looking a few traffic lights down at this big white truck and noticed that during all this time it hadn’t moved an inch due to the traffic. It was now 6:55 and there was no sign of any vehicles in front of me moving forward. In addition, the traffic reports from a variety of radio stations weren’t mentioning anything about this backup, probably because it wasn’t on an Interstate – damn liberal media bias. Anyway, as a few more vehicles did U-Turns and high-tailed it out of there I was faced with a dilemma: Stay the course or turn around. The reason this became an issue was because if I were to move up I’d be away from the four-way intersection I was next to and unable to turn around if I felt like doing so. I figured it’s days like this that vacation days are made for, I turned around and headed back home. As I was driving back I took a look at the traffic that accumulated behind me up since I began waiting, and quite a lot of fossil fuel was wasted on this day.
Another reason I decided to stay home was that an additional accident took place on a road that I have to take to get to work. For those familiar with the Shittsburgh, area, an accident on the Fort Pitt Bridge was bringing outbound traffic to a standstill, and this accident was first reported at 6:30. By 8 a.m. it still hadn’t cleared and traffic was limited to just one lane. Sometimes the Gods make it apparent they don’t want you to work on a certain day, and who am I to question them?
Spoilers ahead. You’ve been warned.
Yesterday I was fiddling around with Comcast’s On Demand service and decided to check out this new horror section. While browsing through the selection of so-called horror movies, I figured what the hell and watched "Night of the Living Dead." Of course, this wasn’t the original black-and-white version. Instead, it was the crappy re-make that was done back in the late 1980s; why they decided to do this I have no idea. Hell, nobody really dies from zombies either. Now granted there were that many zombie-related deaths in the first one, but you'd figure with the remake they'd show a few humans getting eaten. Well, OK, that kid’s mom gets killed by her daughter, but that zombie-kill doesn’t count. And the ending was just plain dumb. First off, I liked the black guy in the original, and you felt bad when he got off’d. With Living Dead v. 2.0, he turns into a zombie and the chick who got killed in the original version is now the heroine. At least some things didn’t change. The film still took place in redneck-ville, and the sad thing is the producers did a pretty decent job of capturing the residents of the flyover portions of Pennsylvania.
I’m not a big zombie fan, and when it comes to the “of the Dead” set of movies, I have to say the original “Night of the Living Dead” was my favorite. “Day of the Dead” comes in second with “Dawn of the Dead” a distant third. I haven’t seen “Land of the Dead” yet, so as of right now I’m pretending it never happened. I started a thread a while back about why I don’t like “Dawn,” and my feelings on the matter haven’t changed much, if at all. In fact, I must reiterate the following:
A side note regarding “Day of the Dead,” back in the 1980s I had this friend who would always say, “Fucking ‘a, biggest piece of meat in the cave.” Once I saw “Day,” I finally got what he was talking about. Oh, and the one guy, I think he was the commander, reminded me of Eric Bischoff.
While watching last night’s movie, it got me the thinking. If zombies were to roam the streets, how would I react? Well, I probably wouldn’t bother boarding up the house. They’re going to get in anyway, so I should spend my energy elsewhere. Now, if I heard on the news about the zombie-fest from home and had a few hours to think about what to do, I might consider driving to my brother-in-law’s house. Not only is it a bigger house than mine, but he has guns and I’m sure he has an attic or something that can offer better protection. If this plan was deep-sixed, I’d try to get up in my pseudo-attic. The problem is I’d have to unscrew some ventilation fan in order to get up there. I’d also have to pray the zombies don’t pile upon each other because the ceiling is only a few feet above my head.
I think a better course of action would be to go into the either my basement’s fruit cellar or garage. The garage would be the less preferred of the two because while there is only one door to get in or out, I’m sure if enough zombies banged on the garage door they might eventually break in. And considering the car in the garage would be blocked the other care in driveway, I really wouldn’t be able to drive away. The fruit cellar would be a better barricading facility. There’s only one door, and I could put a pantry in front of it, too. The only problem is that there are no bathroom facilities, but oh well. The only problem with this shelter, like many other options, is that I would have no idea what’s going on in the outside world. Then again, if zombies were roaming about, I don’t think I’d want to know what’s going on. Any, yes, the cats would be in the fruit cellar with me and the better half.
11 p.m.
• I have my fair share of rap CDs in my collection, which numbers between 400-500. Most of these albums are from the 1990s, and I’ve pretty much pigeonholed myself into this era. I don’t care much for contemporary hip-hop, but I’m not going to hate on it either. It’s just I grew up with certain albums and certain styles. I listen to what’s out nowadays and I can’t get into many of these flows. But if this is what today’s youth listen to and what they like, then more power to them. I’m sure those who grew up listening to the Treacherous Three couldn’t understand why I was infatuated with some guy named Ice Cube. For me, I’ll stick with what I listened to during my high school and college days. Now I have a number of albums that I consider to be solid rap efforts, whether it’s A Tribe Called Quest, EPMD, 2Pac, Redman, or Wu-Tang and the group’s initial offering of solo projects from artists such as Raekwon and Ol’ Dirty Bastard. However, there are a number of CDs that when I see in my collection I shake my head. I’ve mentioned “Shaq Fu: the Return” before and I’ll do so again, and there are some albums that you know are going to be awful but get anyway. You can’t help doing so. If anything, you get these albums just to keep for posterity. Such was the case with this one album. I knew it was out, and I had no intention of paying full retail price for this. Hell, I wasn’t going to spend the money needed to pick it up at the used CD store. Instead, I let this one person I knew buy it and bought it off of him for $4 after he realized how awful it was. And what was this album?
After the abortion that was “It’s On," which was supposed to be a counterpunch to Dr. Dre’s “Chronic” album, anyone with half-a-brain knew this follow-up effort would be bad; nobody will mistake “Str8 Off” with NWA’s “Straight Outta Compton.” I think what made me want to own this album though was that Eazy-E was in the midst of this project when he found out he had the AIDS. This album was released after his death and for me it seemed to be my way of pouring a 40 oz. to the curb in memory of the E.
Oh no, what happened to my lover?
Bitch I bashed his head in with my Louisville Slugger.
4:30 p.m.
• Christ, I can hear the liberals already whining about how we live in a fascist regime.
Yesterday afternoon on the drive home from work the better half told me of this story and asked my opinion of the whole thing. She’s Catholic and thought it was a stupid idea to create a milk chocolate Jesus. Although I think a lesser stink would have been made had our lord and savior been sporting a loin cloth, I was more interested in knowing if any public money was spent making this piece of shit. But that’s neither here nor there. Actually, I really don’t care that there’s a sculpture of the guy who died for my sins and stuff made out of chocolate. (Jesus was a black dude – little wonder why he never had a job. Interchangeable hippie/black jokes; gotta love ‘em.)
Here's the "art" in question.
Oh, yeah. NSFW and all that.
All in all, this is nothing more than typical “edgy” New Yorker shit. “Let’s be cutting edge and do something about Christianity that is sure to piss off a bunch of people. How about putting Jesus in a jar of urine? Can’t: Already been done. Well let’s make a picture of the Virgin Mary out of elephant poop. Drat: Beaten to the punch. I guess we’ll have to make a chocolate naked Jesus.” I could make a “milk chocolate melts in your mouth and not in your hand,” joke right about now, but … well what do you know, I just did.
Interestingly enough, I had another thought upon first hearing of this evangelical-led attack on our rights to display stupid artwork, which was brought up later by someone quoted in the article I linked.
Say, this just inspired Mikkkhaelango to produce his latest masterpiece.
I'll expect my National Endowment for the Arts check to be mailed sometime next week.
8:15 p.m.
• Time for another pic of the kids.
It's Max. There are pumpkins on the coffee table. Max is on the coffee table. That's all I got. Interestingly enough, JJ is terrified of pumpkins, and when we get them every October he flees in terror. *shrug*
8 p.m.
• I’ve always said that bitches will be the death of you.
Reading this story reminded me of an instance in high school where this one guy named James dated this Rachel chick for a while. I guess you could say they were the pre-goth crowd, although they weren’t nearly as “extreme” as the all-white/black hair and make-up freaks are today. I’d classify them more as “alternatives.” How far in-between the evolution scale are we talking about regarding Goths and alternatives? If we were going by the dinosaur scale, here’s how it would go.
If Goths are Triceratopses…
... then James and Rachel would have been Protoceratopses.
.
Get it? Got it? Good.
Anyway, for one reason or another Rachel dumped James. And what did James do? He went to the wall where he painted “Rachel + James” and removed the vertical line so that it read “Rachel – James.” Was pretty funny, actually.
6 p.m.
• Regardless of what you think of Don Imus’ “nappy headed hos” remark regarding the women’s Rutgers college basketball team, this is probably the funniest thing to come out the whole ordeal.
Poo-Face wants “lines drawn” in regards to media speech? The same race-baiting poverty pimp that got a $345,000 defamation suit against him for what he said regarding the Tawana Brawley hoax? The same race-baiting poverty pimp that did the following back in 1995?
You’re good, Poo-Face. Real good. No go have your wife feed you lots of eggs and butter so you can die early like many black men do, of heart disease. Well, that’s how I feel. Oh, dear. Did I say something RACIST? No, I’m just quoting Julianne Malveaux, a black female columnist, and what she said about Clarance Thomas back in the day.
4:15 p.m.
• Even though I clinched a first-round bye in my kkk Bowl league (had I been playing this year), I might as well see how good (or bad) I would have done this round.
Washington @ Seattle (3.5)
Seattle 27, Washington 17
I’m not high on Seattle, but I’m chalking this one up to the home-team-wins-on-Wild-Card-Weekend. I’ll tell you what, though. If the Redskins win and reach the Conference Championship round, it’s going to make for one hell of a story.
(2.5) Jacksonville @ Pittsburgh
Jacksonville 27, Pittsburgh 10
I can see this game going a number of ways. Jacksonville can just go out there and make Pittsburgh its bitch, or the Steelers will learn and adjust from their first game and win. To do this, I think the Steelers will have to become more of a passing team than a running team. But what’s most odd about this game is that there has been absolutely no fan excitement in the week leading up to this game in the Southwestern Pennsylvania region. Now that is a bad sign.
N.Y. Giants @ Tampa Bay (3.5)
N.Y. Giants 13, Tampa Bay 23
Much like the Steeler game, I can see this one going one of two ways. The Giants took that loss to the Patriots and built some momentum, or they are going to have one hell of a letdown and have the Bucs, which hasn’t done shit in recent weeks, run all over them. I’m opting for the latter because that’s all you’ll be hearing about afterward from the national media: “OMG the Giants should have rested everybody in Week 17~!”
Tennessee @ San Diego (9.5)
Tennessee 10, San Diego 20
I like Vince Young, but I don’t see how the Titans can pull this one off. Their only hope is that Rivers has a terrible game and the Tennessee defense stifles the Chargers rushing attack. Perhaps Young, who is hurt, will be pulled during this game and Collins will rally the troops, but I think San Diego will get out of the first round this year.
11:15 p.m.
• Even though the ad as a whole isn't all that great, what makes me love this spot is Jerry Jones at the very end saying, "Hey, you need this ... I'll take those."
11:59 p.m.
• Wow, you got to love local news. The NBC station is leading off with fan reaction to tonight's Steeler loss. You'd think the mayor died. Get over it, people. IT'S A GAME. Be glad they lost a close game at home to a better team rather than going on the road and losing in a blowout to a MUCH better team.
5:30 p.m.
• So I have a weeklong work trip starting on Sunday and as usual I haven’t even thought of packing. Every time I go somewhere (which isn’t often) I always tell myself “this will be the time when I pack early and don’t run around at the last minute throwing a bunch of shit into luggage.” Who the hell am I fooling?
• I heard about this story on the radio this afternoon.
“I didn’t do nothing.” She’s from Wilkinsburg? Really?
Holy shit is this Google Maps thing scary. Once I get off Rt. 30, this is the next road I take coming into work when the better half and I drive in together. (For some reason Penn Avenue is not showing up on that last link. Click on it and enter "1110 Penn Avenue" before "Wilkinsburg" in the search bar.) Just scroll along NW on Penn Avenue and see the sights of my wonderful commute. Actually, seeing this shithole motivates me like hell to keep up with the bills and stay at my job. Also, when we drive in it's usually around 6:30 in the morning, meaning all the black people are still sleeping off their crack highs. Except for a small group at the "Labor Ready" store. God bless them for wanting to make a living.
8 p.m.
• So I was never into the whole YouTube deal. See small videos on my computer. Whatever.
Boy was I wrong.
Now I started warming up to this web site when TSM began allowing video tags into posts, but what sealed the deal for me was when I learned you could rip music from music videos and save them as MP3.
Now I can re-live all my old-school rap tapes. Yeah, boooooy.
In just minutes I have re-established one of the greatest sides of a cassette tape there ever was. What set of songs am I talking about?
Aw fuck yeah. A two-tape collection of Too Short's material before he signed with Jive records. The A side to the first tape in this package is one of my all-time favorite set of songs. Now let me take a trip down memory lane [/biz Markie]
*************************************************************
Invasion of the Flat Booty Bitches
Forget about Mexicans, you don't want your town to be invaded by a bunch of Miss six o'clocks (straight up and straight down). Let's experience the horror
Well, at least Todd Shaw is results-oriented.
*************************************************************
She's a Bitch
Nearly 10 minutes of deep lyrics about the social commentary of urban America during Reaganomics. Common, the Roots and Q-Tip ain't got shit on this.
*************************************************************
The Bitch Sucks Dick
Are we starting to pick up a trend with these songs? Too bad this song gets cut off at the end because the best line is at the very end (see the bolded text).
*************************************************************
Blowjob Betty
Now some of you may be wondering, "kkk, I listened to Too Short's 'Get In Where You Fit In' album and he has a song there called 'Blowjob Betty.' Did he actually re-release this song on that album?" The answer is yes. Too Short has a tendency to sing the same songs on different albums, although I consider this version of BB to be more fulfilling. Call it the creme de la creme.
I won't reveal the story of Blowjob Betty, but let's just say it comes to quite the climax.
*************************************************************
Short Side
This is the second part to the Blowjob Betty track, or at least the background sounds the same. I don't care much for the end when he's messing with the vocals, but whatever. His first "biiiiiiiitch" at 0:35 is still my all-time favorite of his. Oh, and
...sounds vaguely familiar that's because it should be. I quit counting how many times I've heard this verse on his other albums. And God bless him. From selling tapes with Freddie B. in high school to millionaire.
• Well the NFL draft is tomorrow, and if you are looking for a place that will give you all the latest news and insight to this annual event … well, then keep on looking. I like the NFL draft and all, but I’m not glued to the television set for the entire weekend because it’s on. Actually, I have no idea who any of these can't miss mega-star college players are. With that being said, I’ll be sure to tune in several times during the day to see who gets picked where; I might even have it on as background noise depending on what I’m doing around the house. However, I do have one thought about this year’s draft. I’m sure Reggie Bush is a fine athlete and all, but is he really the second coming of Christ? Better yet, is he really what the Houston Texans need at this time? Unless Bush can block with the strength of three linemen, I don’t think he’s going to help out the Texans with their biggest problem since entering the league – pass protection. But then again, if Houston doesn’t draft Bush, and trades down a few spots to let some other team get him and ends up with that offensive lineman that’s supposed to go real early and a few other early-round picks, I’m sure Chris Berman will say mean things about the Texans front office, and we can’t have that.
UPDATE: Uh, oh. I just saw on ESPN that it looks like the Texans are going to take that Williams guy with the first overall pick. Man, I wouldn't want to be Houston's General Manager tomorrow.
• For the last several weeks our one cat Max has had a urinary tract infection. Basically, what this means is that he’s spending half the day in a litter box trying to pee out whatever fluid is inside him. While this can be serious, especially if there is blockage (which he doesn’t have), the vet has said his condition isn’t too bad. At first we had him on some antibiotics, but they didn’t do the job. Now he’s on some stronger stuff, and we’re going to have to change his, and the other two cats’, diet. In other words, we’re going to have to buy some overpriced shit and a water-purifying machine. Now although Max is acting normal (or at as normal as he acts) he’s still making a beeline for the nearest litter box a dozen or so times per day. Last night as I laid in bed, our female cat Dessa hopped up and laid down between the better half and me; she always sleeps with us. Now sometimes Max jumps up on the bed, too, but the problem is Dessa doesn’t take kindly to him or our other cat, JJ. This results in Max usually just laying beside me, away from Dessa. Well, that was the case last night. However, at around 2:30 in the morning I felt this weight upon my upper body and this water on/around my collarbone. Problem was it wasn’t water – Max was peeing on me. Yep. I have no idea why the little bastard decided to relieve himself on top of me, but thank god he hardly had anything in him. Fortunately I woke up when he was finished and he quickly jumped off me; I don’t know what I would have done had I been awake when he decided to start. The good news, if there is any to come from this, is that I think he was aiming for a crevice in the comforter or something and none of the urine got on the bed, although my pillows are going to take a trip to the washing machine tonight (while dealing with this infection a few times he’s tried to pee on towels that were crumpled up on the floor, which has us thinking he didn’t have time to make it to a litter box and needed a makeshift toilet).
I guess it could have been worse. He could have been going number two. Or my mouth could have been open.
8 p.m.
Happy birthday to me…
So, as usual, at 1 p.m., two hours before my workday ends, I get a call from a co-worker informing me that I have 500+ quarterly annuity statements/envelopes to stuff. Jesus fucking Christ, all I ask is that I get some heads up on this shit. You know, assholes, I actually have a job to do and I *gasp* plan out my schedule of when I do stuff, unlike you dumbfucks. At my job’s last quarterly board of directors meeting, which I couldn’t attend due to granny’s funeral, a shit storm was raised when I included I my report all the fucking envelopes I was told to stuff, among other stupid tasks that I should not be doing. I wish I could have been there when several directors asked my idiot bosses why someone in my position was stuffing envelopes when I'm being paid to do other projects. Of course, when I came back to work I had a meeting to discuss this matter.
“In your report you said that you were ‘told’ to stuff envelopes.”
“Was ‘stuffing envelopes’ part of my job duties when I was hired?”
“No.”
“Then how would I otherwise go about stuffing envelopes at this place unless someone told me to do so?”
*crickets chirp*
Thank God I'm two floors away from these people.
Happy birthday to me…
So I picked up the better half from her job and went about our merry way home. Then there was the accident. From what I could make out, some van crashed into a car in this sorta-residential area. Three ambulances, four cop cars and a fire truck sealed off the usual way home, so we had to improvise with an alternate route. Problem is we had no idea where the hell we were going. When I get into these situations, I just drive around until I see something familiar. Man, I thought I was in hippie hell before. The part of Shittsburgh we drive through on the way home has “Books Not Bombs” and “John Kerry” bumper stickers on the back of cars. But now we were going even deeper into the belly of the beast, where bikeways ride alongside streets where liberal soccer moms drive their SUVs with bumper stickers that read, “My other car is a PAT bus.” Of course, we ended up in some construction area where two lanes of road become one, and 1+ mile of blocked off roads precede a 20-foot area where construction workers are standing around trying to look busy. Finally, some signs pointing us in the right direction were found and in what usually is an hour’s drive turned into two. All because some dickhead was not paying attention to where he or she was driving.
Happy birthday, kkk…
During this drive o’ fun, the better half was acting like a bitch. Now this is usual because whenever she gets lost driving she tenses up. Why she does this, I stopped trying to figure out. Then again, if you have to spend any additional time with me in a confined space, you might be a little anxious as well. After asking what her problem was for the umpteenth time, she finally said…
Happy birthday to me.
“Remember that prescription cough medicine I took? The asshole pharmacist didn’t bother to tell me it would mess with my birth control pills.”
