• Over at the other place LessoninMachismo made the following remark concerning my recent b-day. “Happy birthday to kkk, who is weighing his options: Is a FREE piece of cake and/or scoop of ice cream worth having eight jackasses in red polos singing to you in front of a restaurant full of strangers?” It’s true that I’m a cheap bastard, but even I have my limits. Like I told him over there, when the better half and I began our courtship we agreed on two things that I think are imperative for any relationship to succeed. Forget all that hippie fidelity, love and other mushy shit, we agreed on much more important matters. The first was if we were ever to be married we agreed not to shove wedding cake in each other’s faces at the wedding reception. The second was under NO CIRCUMSTANCES were we to let any of those cookie-cutter chain restaurants know if it was the other person’s birthday. I’m sorry, but if Nicole would have let the staff of Applebee’s know of O.J.’s birthday one night they were dining there I would have acquitted The Juice in a New York minute. Fortunately, neither one of us has broken our word on these two promises we made to each other years ago.
• Jimmy Rollins of the Phillies is making a run at Joe DiMaggio’s consecutive hit record. The problem is he’s doing it over the course of two seasons (the end of last season and the start of this season), while DiMaggio had his 56-game streak take place over the course of one season. The question now is if Rollins can reach, or even surpass, DiMaggio’s record, should it count? I’ve heard that it won’t, but I figure what the heck; to me it seems harder to end one season with a 30-game hit streak (or whatever Rollins had at the time) and start the next season with a 30-game hit streak. If the Baseball Gods want to put an asterisk by Rollins’ record, that’s fine, too. This just in: Rollins’ streak is over. Oh well. I’m still keeping this paragraph.
• Well Eminem and ex/current/recent/whatever-the-hell-she-is-now wife have called it splitsville, again. I guess that’s what you get when you say on a record you’re going to kill the bitch and dump her corpse in a river and don’t follow through.
• For the weekend of March 31-April 2, Larry the Cable Guy’s movie made as much money as did Sharon Stone’s Basic Instinct sequel ($3.2 million each). The sad thing is I’m not sure which moviegoer got the better deal.
• For all you commies out there that bitch whenever you find out how much a CEO makes, this should be right up your alley. Coke is now paying executives for actual performance, rather than just throwing them into a pool of money. I never really cared how much CEO’s make, although I do have a bit of a problem when a company pays some dipshit for running the business into the ground. There’s a difference between that and a CEO who takes charge of a company slated to lose $100 million in the next fiscal year, but due to his new policies/etc. the company only loses $10 million and gets on the path for financial profit. Pay the man in that instance. But don’t reward incompetence, which is was U.S. Air did with years of upper management figureheads that did nothing but screw up the company even more over the years, which eventually helped cause that airline to go belly-up.
What the hell is wrong with motorists? There’s a reason I drive like an old man – because someone has to prevent accidents. I was making my usual commute to work this morning and I came to an exit where I noticed this car in that striped area that can be found between a highway and an exit. It was obvious that the person was going to get off that exit but then realized that he was taking the wrong exit and was waiting to get back on the highway. Fair enough. Now the lane I was in is the only lane that takes me to an upcoming exit I need to get on, and because I try to prepare myself for situations that I fear might take place, I did a quick glance over at the other lane just in case this dipshit was going to try and pull out in front of me. I do this sort of thing many times because you never know when you’ll have to take evasive action one of these days.
Today was one of those days.
This asshole just drives out in front of me, forcing me to swerve into the other lane. I laid on my horn, rolled the window down, and called him every name in the book. For the rest of the quality time we spent together I kept the horn on; I also got behind him and gave him the high-beam treatment. When he got off on the exit before mine, I thought the rest of my commute would be smooth sailing. Boy was I wrong.
While on the next leg of my voyage to work a few minutes later, I had another fun incident. There’s this shitty merge ramp that motorists don’t bother yielding at, and this is why I normally stay in the middle of the three lanes that are available to me in this area. This morning was no exception, but apparently it wasn’t enough for this asshole. Once he merged from his road onto my road he then proceeded to move into the center lane – right where I was. I had to slam on my breaks, causing the “loose traction” light to come on. My reaction was pretty much the same to this asshole as the first one, although I wasn’t able to get behind him and flash the high beams. Instead I just laid on the horn while driving next to him for the next 4-5 miles. Had I known the better half left her plastic juice cup in the car with me when I dropped her off at work, I would have thrown the goddamn thing at his car, hoping that it would have crashed through the passenger’s window.
I know it’s funny to hear me say I’m a defensive driver only to go batshit a few sentences later, but I can’t help it. However, I don’t consider this to be road rage. To me road rage is screaming and swearing because someone in front of you is only going 15 mph above the speed limit and you want to go 40. To me road rage is throwing a fit because the car in front of you is observing the flashing 15 mph lights of a school zone. To me road rage is throwing a temper tantrum because every stoplight isn’t green for your entire drive home from work. I don’t have road rage; what I have instead is motorist rage – the road has nothing to do with it. This is like when someone says I’m not a “people person.” Oh, I’m a “people person;” I’m just not a “stupid people person.”
When someone shows zero disregard for the safety of other motorists by being too fucking lazy to check their blind spot before changing lanes, I consider it more than appropriate to blast the horn and give them the middle finger, along with a few choice words. I could have been seriously hurt in either of these accidents this morning – am I supposed to go “That’s OK”? Fuck that shit. If you’re going to be an asshole, so will I; and let me say that there’s nothing quite like laying on the horn while following one of these people through traffic. I don’t understand why more people don’t practice this behavior – just giving a hippie “beep” for a few seconds is nothing. Follow the bastard in and out of lanes while your “HONK” is going full tilt. Who knows, maybe you’ll freak that person out enough that they will drive more carefully for the next week or so.
When Mrs. kkk and I began our courtship, she never really saw me pissed off. Then there was that lady who almost plowed into us. Here’s the scene: I was in the Shittburgh city limits (around the Civic Arena for those keeping score at home). I was in the left lane and had my turn signal on for several seconds before merging into the right lane. Suddenly this bitch in a SUV behind me swerved over into the right lane without giving any notice, almost crashing into us. There was no need for her to do this; I wasn’t driving slow and there was a decent amount of traffic, so if she was looking to speed she was shit out of luck. Well, I let the cunt pass, and then I got on her ass with the horn full tilt. She went in and out of several lanes trying to avoid me, but to no avail. I even went past my exit just to let this bitch know she cut off the wrong person. I think the best part of this was every lane she merged into while I was behind her she had her blinker on. As I drove past her on the exit she got off I said something about killing her (or maybe her children, I can’t remember) and turned to the better half, who by this time was stepping on the imaginary brake in the passenger’s side while onto the nearby door handle, white knuckles and all.
Accidents happen all the time – it’s a fact of life. If I’m in a Wal-Mart parking lot, I act like ever car driving through the lot doesn’t know I’m there. There have been a few times when I saw some motorist not pay attention to the road for whatever reason and I’ll just stop my car and let them go through. It’s actually amusing to watch them turn to my direction, see that a motorist is there and have that look of panic when they don’t yet realize I’m not driving toward them. I can deal with this because busy parking lots are difficult to maneuver through. However, when you’re doing speeds of 60+ mph, my tolerance for carelessness is all but nil. I’ll probably end up killed in one of these incidents, but at least I know I wasn’t the one who committed the traffic violation.
• I’m not a big Brett Favre fan, but then again I don’t hate him like some other people I know. However, this whole “Will I or won’t I retire?” saga is getting on my nerves, and I’m not even talking about this past weekend’s incident with the faux news conference. While the NFL is notorious for cutting players who have shown a particular team loyalty for years, Favre is one of those few exceptions who should get to call it quits when he wants. However, that doesn’t mean he should screw his team over by not letting them know if he will be back for another season or two. I get it, Brett. You won the Pack a title, and came close other times with your numerous postseason appearances. You helped turn Green Bay into “Title Town” again, at least for one year back in the ‘90s. But the Packers also provided you with a comfortable lifestyle. For as much as you did for the Packers, the Packers did the same for you. I’m sure it would feel horrible to go out the way you and your team played last year, but if it’s taking you this long to decide on whether or not to give this NFL thing another go that’s a pretty obvious sign that it’s time to hang up the cleats.
• Here’s something that’s been bugging me this young baseball season. While some teams enjoyed opening day last week in their home stadium, it took almost a week for some teams to play their first home game. It is famously said that in baseball everyone has a chance at winning the World Series on opening day. Well, by the time the Pirates lost 8-3 in their home opener this afternoon, they already lost six of their first seven road games. Pirate fans (at least the ones remaining) have 161 other games to see how awful their team is; can’t they get their first home game when they’re only 1-2 games out of first, giving those at PNC Park the chance to dream of pennant races and division titles?
• So illegal immigrants are at it again with protests, or whatever the hell those things are supposed to be (well that explains why that head of lettuce was $10 at the market today). I said this before, but it bears repeating. If these illegals want to “show us” how valuable they are by not working the jobs Americans don't want to work, let’s make it a fair exchange. For the day that these people walk out of work, let’s refuse any kind of social services to people who can’t prove that they are an American citizen. If you won’t pick lettuce in the fields or clean hotel rooms, then you don’t get the emergency room health care and state tuition assistance. Sounds fair to me.
• So my favorite Maury Povich “Who is the baby’s daddy?” couple was on today. This black chick claimed this guy with six fingers (one grew out of his pinky, or something like that) was the father of her crumb snatcher. The accused claims he’s not the father, and that she’s just after the “number one draft pick” who is "230 PERCENT SURE" he’s not the daddy. Even though he was exonerated after the test results came back, the best was yet to come. When Maury told the chick they could help her find who the real daddy is she said that she had a list of FIVE OTHER POSSIBLE FATHERS. I don’t watch these shows all that often, but you can’t get any better than a show that has a title like “I have three kids, and I’m not sure if you’re the father of all of them.”
Yesterday I wrote about my trip to Game 3 of the NLCS and what a magical experience it was. The next night I headed out to Game 4 with another friend in hopes the Pirates could tie the series up at two games apiece. We headed to Three Rivers Stadium without any problems, and we found our seats just fine. The problem was that the drunken asshole seated in the row above us found their seats; they also had been able to find the nearest booze stand as well. For the first few innings of the game things were harmless enough, then sometime around the third inning when the Pirates made a clutch hit or something (I forgot what it was) two of these drunks fell down onto me. Well, at least they didn’t throw up, even though my knees banged off the concrete and hurt like hell for a little while afterward.
After falling onto me, one of these assholes began verbally harassing me. Of course, for about 15 minutes I didn’t realize he was trying to get my attention. He finally had to tap me on my shoulder and say, “Hey, I’m talking to you.” Seeing how this guy weighed at least 75 pounds more than me and was drunk off his ass, I simply turned around and went back to watching the game; amazingly enough he stopped talking about the homosexual acts he wanted to do with me and turned his attention to someone of the opposite sex – this female Braves fan (and her boyfriend) in the row behind him. It was sometime around the fifth inning when I began to hear some escalated shouting from behind my row. I turned around and saw the drunken idiot standing up and getting in the faces of those two aforementioned Braves fans. Without missing a beat I nudged my friend and showed him the trouble that was about to ensue. We both stood up and moved away from our seats. As we did this, the drunk took a swing at the other guy’s girlfriend and the boyfriend responded in kind. Seconds after we left our seats and moved, these two guys came crashing onto our seats and proceeded to wrestle down at least a half-dozen other rows. Chaos then ensued and everybody who had been watching the game in our section suddenly stood up and watched this fight.
Oddly enough, the 90-year old “security guard” in our section wasn’t able to settle things down, and it took several ushers of considerable younger age, and muscle mass, to separate the two brawlers. I’m not sure what happened to the idiot behind me, but he and his friends didn’t return to their seats. Unfortunately, neither did the couple that was being harassed by an asshole that thought going to a ballgame meant getting liquored up and causing a disturbance. I know nothing probably happened to this asshole, but I always hoped the Braves couple sued him.
The rest of the evening was pretty uneventful. The Pirates lost and faced a three games to one deficit. Regrettably, I had the chance to purchase Game 5 tickets when I initially bought my Games 3 and 4 tickets, but I decided not to. The reason I regret this decision is because the Pirates took Game 5 thanks to a gutsy performance by pitcher Bob Walk. This guy wasn’t the most talented player out there, but he managed to find ways to win more times than naught. (Currently, he’s a Pirates broadcaster, or at least I still think he is one.) Thanks to another Wakefield performance in Game 6, the Pirates took this series to a Game 7, where they were just one out away from going to the World Series. Oh well, my other favorite team at the time, the Toronto Blue Jays, beat the Braves to win their fires-ever World Series title. And you know what? On the night the Jays won it all, my friend who was with me for Game 3 had a party at his house that got out of control, but that’s another story for another day – like say, tomorrow.
I have my choice of radio stations programmed, and it’s limited to 4-5 stations. For example, there’s the RIGHT-WING RADIO Clear Channel with the usual syndicated lineup. There’s also KDKA, a more local AM station. Then there are those bitches from WPTT that bumped Neal Boortz; I don't listen to them anymore. For sports I have Fox Sports Radio, which has a local morning show and Jim Rome, and finally ESPN Radio, which I listen to Mark Madden’s afternoon show. While I don’t complain much about the lineup of these stations, sometimes I want to listen to something different, so I began scanning the radio dial in hopes of finding something new. And something new I found.
I discovered WPIT, a local AM station. I looked up their lineup on-line, and they seem to be a Jesus-lite station. As I started scanning the hosts, I was less-than thrilled. Then I saw who was on from noon-2 p.m. – Dr. Laura.
Like I said in my “Best of RIGHT-WING RADIO” entry a while ago, I don’t listen to Dr. Laura for her politics, or moral opinions. Hell, if she found out how long I lived in sin, she’d spend a full segment yelling at me. However, I loved listening to her show in other markets because of her callers. I started listening to her show again this past Monday, and on Tuesday I heard one of the best talk-radio moments I’ve enjoyed in quite some time. This lady called and had her mother on another phone line. The daughter wanted Dr. Laura to tell her mother why she should leave her husband of 18 years. When asked how old the caller’s mother was, she said “71.” Then the mother started mumbling on the other line. The next question asked was, “Why do you want your mother to divorce this man?” Because he drinks and is always getting in trouble. The mother added, “I broke my leg when trying to bail him out of jail.” At this point tears were starting to trickle down my face. Dr. Laura then told the mother to hang up the phone because she wanted to talk to the daughter “one-on-one” (on a radio show heard by MILLIONS of listeners). The daughter then responded, “What should I do with my mother?” For the rest of the segment, when Dr. Laura was talking there were several interruptions (I counted four) by the mother randomly blurting out “Hello? Is anyone there?”
I was listening to her show again today, and there was a caller in tears because her young daughter sent some kid a card (she didn’t say what the occasion was – birthday/Valentine’s/etc.) and he didn’t respond to her daughter in kind. Another caller was getting her feelings hurt because her mother-in-law would re-arrange her furniture when she would stop for a visit. But the best caller of the day was the young twenty-something who had a kid at 16 with this guy, went on to have several miscarriages, and now she doesn’t know if her kid should be around another kid who her baby’s daddy fathered at the same time her kid was born.
Thank you, WPIT.
Every few weeks the kkk househould changes the four litter boxes scattered around the house. Last night it was my turn to do the cleaning. As I was doing this fun chore I had on ESPN’s draft special #374128957498 on, and they were talking with Bill Polian, the general manager of the Indianapolis Colts. I had this on as background noise so I may not be completely accurate in what I thought I heard. The ESPN guy was asking Polian about the recent asquisition of Adam Vinatieri, and Polian was saying how Adam was among the great kickers in NFL history and then he named a few players. One name that made me do a double-take was Scott Norwood. Um, OK. I’m sure Norwood may have had a good career and all (he's the Bills all-time leading scorer, last I checked), but I wouldn’t want to have my field goal kicker associated with this guy, especially since you’re expecting him to make some game-winning field goals in the playoffs. I’m sure Bill Buckner had a good career, but I wouldn’t want to compare my team's first baseman to him, especially if they're postseason-bound.
While I’m on this subject, there’s something else I need to grumble about. I get how it can be fun to watch the NFL draft and try to figure out who your favorite team is going to draft and stuff, but sometimes this goes just a tad overboard. Over the last few years I remember hearing from the ESPN gang on draft day about how some crappy teams have practically rebuilt themselves after a round or two with their selections. Look, I get that parity can make bad teams good, but can we at least wait until they win a few games in the regular season before considering teams that have done nothing in recent seasons to be postseason threats?
Even though the NFL Draft coverage can be overkill, this is still a fun time of the year for sports. The NBA and NHL playoffs are just getting started, Major League Baseball is in full swing, and the NFL gets its several rounds in the spotlight. However, there is one thing about the upcoming playoffs that gets on my nerves. It’s when talking heads start comparing postseason matchups and then say, about a lower-seeded team, “I sure wouldn’t want to be playing them in the playoffs.” Shutup. This is the playoffs – you’re supposed to be playing good teams. Who do you expect to be playing this time of the year – the Raptors? The Penguins? You’re supposed to be playing teams that have a few stars on their roster, and if this team is meshing come playoff time, then the higher-seeded team better be, too.
I’ll probably watch some of the NHL playoffs this weekend, which is funny because I have no idea who is in the postseason. All I know is that New Jersey is playing well, and I’m sure Detroit is the top seed at the other place. And let me say that there is nothing better than playoff hockey, especially if a game goes into overtime. What I love about this drama is that every pass, shot and check gets magnified even more when a crucial playoff game is on the line. Also, it always seems that in a tense, sudden death contest, the winning goal is always scored in a flukish sort of way.
Today’s going to be great fun. The better half’s friend who just squirted out her second kid is going to get it baptized today, and I have to go to the ceremony because Mrs. kkk is the kid’s godmother. I don’t get the whole “god” parents thing – to me it just sounds like an excuse to ask someone to pay for stuff for your newly born crumb snatcher. First the better half had to get this kid a christening gown for the big day, and on the drive home from work yesterday she said that she had to stop by the bank to get a “crisp $50 bill.” Here’s how it went down:
Her: “I need to go to the bank tomorrow morning and get a new, crisp $50 bill for the baptism.”
Me: “Why? Didn’t you buy that dress thing?”
Her: “Yes, but I have to get this, too. Actually, I think you should since I bought the dress.”
Me: “I’m not the kid’s godmother.”
Her: “Well she’s paying for your meal after the baptism.”
Me: “My ‘meal’ is going to be at a buffet, and since when did this kid get a job to pay for dinner? Besides, didn’t you tell me the kid’s rich grandparents (on the father’s side) are paying for this whole thing?”
Her: “I hate you.”
I loathe this whole gift-giving exchange thing. Oh we have to get a gift for these people because they’re getting something for us. Why just not exchange gifts in the first place and call it even? That way there’s no bitching about, “Well the gift I got Suzy was more expensive than what she got me.” And seriously, what’s the point? At my wedding we got $50 from this couple that were getting married several months after us. At their wedding what did we give them? Yep. $50. Personally, I think gifts should be given to people because you want to, not because you have to. Believe it or not, I actually enjoy giving gifts to people, but not because society deems it necessary to do so for every stupid occasion.
Here’s another story: Years ago I bought this game for the PS2 called “Looney Toones: Space Race.” Cute little game. Anyway, whenever my one niece and nephew in-law stop over, that’s one of the first games they like to play. At around May-June of last year I was at the local used CD store and found this game for sale in really good condition. I asked the better half should we get this for them because this game was now out of print. She said “no” because they only play that game at our house. A few months later it was time to get into Christmas shopping gear, and guess what was requested by these two kids? You guessed it. When their mother called the better half to give us an idea for gifts for her two kids, she asked the better half, “Is there any way you get that Looney Toones game you have at your house? That’s all they talk about when they are playing on their Playstation.”
Of course, the problem was that this game was no longer being made, and when I looked on Amazon, I didn’t find any available. A day or so later we went out to the local mall, and surrounding shopping centers, and there was no Space Race to be found. We then stopped in a used CD store (not the one mentioned above) and there we found a copy. Problem was there wasn’t an instruction manual, which turned off the better half. I eventually wore her down and convinced her to get the game, considering we had zero luck finding it elsewhere, and it was worth it to know that we found this game early on in the shopping season.
Well, when Christmas arrived, she was still bitching about the game because of no instruction manual and that since the game was “used” we didn’t spend the exact same amount of money on this niece and nephew than we did on Mrs. kkk’s other nieces. I kept telling her that it didn’t matter because this is what the kids wanted. (Then again, I went out on Black Friday to get her other nieces some gifts, and I asked the better half if she was calculating how much she “spent” on someone with a gift’s retail or sale price? That line of questioning didn’t go over too well.) When we arrived at the brother/sister in-law’s place (it’s a Christmas tradition), and after all the gifts were opened, guess which toy the niece and nephew played with first with the other kids who were also there? Yep. Did they even notice (or care) that there was no instruction manual included with the game? Nope. Was that the only Christmas toy/game they got to chose from? Not even close. Oh, that was quite a fun drive home. Not only did I get to say, “So what was that first game they played with?” 50+ times in a 10-15 drive back home, but I also saved $10+ for buying the game used. (Sorry, I couldn’t pass that one up.)
Oh, and for the record, we are each going in on half for the $50 baptism gift.
• Just heard on the radio that Pennsylvania Governor Ed Rendell is now bitching about the high gas prices and is calling for a “profit windfall tax.” Ha, you sack of shit. This coming from someone who jacked up the state gas tax a year or so ago. It’s funny that some of the biggest gougers when it comes to gas prices (state and federal government) are calling for an additional tax for when Big Oil makes “too much money.” It’s just like when the government tells us that we’re too fat. Meanwhile, the most obese, out-of-shape person I know is Uncle Sam. Oh, but Rendell is looking out for the little guy -- he's letting them work longer hours when delivering gas. If a Republican governor did this, the unions would have a shit-fit. Can't wait to see what these people say about Fast Eddie.
• Great, so the John Rocker of 2006 is going to be Keith Hernandez for saying "Women don’t belong in the dugout.” Now I didn’t listen to the audio of his comment, so I can’t say if he was joking or not, but if he wasn’t, then shame shame. Now I must disclose that I DESPISE female NFL sideline reporters, and I do have a problem with women reporters being allowed in a male locker room after a game. (If male reporters are allowed to enter women’s locker rooms after a contest, then I will strike my previous “locker room” comment; I don’t follow women’s sports so I don’t really know what their post-game policies are. However, I doubt a bunch of fat, ugly male sports reporters would be allowed access to a female locker room right after a volleyball or soccer match.) But regarding Keith’s response, he was talking about some chick that was her team’s personal trainer, and if she’s a good trainer, then she has every right to be in that dugout. No wonder Elaine Bennis turned him down.
• Well, Barry Bonds just hit his first home run of the season, so it looks like he will pass Babe Ruth on the all-time home run list. Now some fans want Barry’s stats to have an asterisk by them, or some other disclaimer saying he really didn’t “earn” his place in history due to steroid use. Now I’m a Bonds hater, but I don’t think this “qualifying” of his stats should be done. I’m sure the guy roided up, which is a shame because he was a damn good player even before he forehead exponentially, grew. But Major League Baseball did nothing during the “Steroid era” of the 1990s and early ‘00s, so it would by hypocritical to turn back and suddenly go “OMG you guys were CHEATING?!” Whether Bud Selig and pals turned a blind eye to the drug abuse going on during this time because of the revenue being generated during this time, or because they were afraid of the player’s union threatening to take action over any increased drug-testing regulations, don’t try to revise history. Deal with today’s drug use and make sure the game is cleaned up for the future. As for the past, it happened. Big deal.
• For all those in the white-collar work force, it has now become easier to goof off on the Internet. Well at least you can't get fired over it.
So I guess now if you get busted looking at on-line porn, you can say that you are reading the Sports page, which have ads like this littered in this section of many metropolitan newspapers.
• For those that think the name change from TNN to Spike was stupid, here’s one that gives “We Got Pop” (anyone remember that shit?) a run for its money. The Outdoor Life Network is changing its name to Versus. I loved this line.
Yeah, because you can’t think of “NHL” without thinking of “Versus.” If the “u” was changed to another “e” that would make for a pretty cool name for one of the dozen Jesus channels that are part of my cable lineup. Not saying I’d watch one of these stations, but couple a catchy channel name with the Buddy Christ and you might get a few more young people to tune in and watch nuns pray or whatever they hell they do.
• The Republicans are pissing me off again. Look, I feel your pain because you are the majority party with $3 gas at the pumps. Of course you’re going to get blamed for this. However, don’t insult my intelligence with these hippie $100 rebates some of you bastards are thinking of doing. Sure you guys have tried to increase refinement capacity and other such things, only to have the enviro-weenies and libs beat back these attempts. You may no longer be the party of “small government,” but please, don’t treat your constituency like those welfare leeches who think we can be bought off with some $100 kickback. If you want to buy me off, you’ll have to add a few more zeros to that amount.
Oh who the hell am I kidding? Remember that tantrum I threw a while back because the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review jewed me out of a few dollars? Well, I gave in after a telephone call offered me 33 percent off a subscription. God I’m such a whore.
• Miami Dolphins player Jason Taylor recently got stabbed in some road-rage incident, and now the other motorist is being charged with a HATE CRIME. Really? I thought Taylor got stabbed because he wouldn’t sign an autograph for this guy. Here is why I think “hate crime legislation” is retarded; can’t we lock this schmuck up for, oh, the other things he did (allegedly, of course) during this incident?
One thing I did not know was that Taylor’s wife is Zach Thomas’ sister. Wonder how those two met? I heard about this story earlier today on the radio, and the news guy said Taylor is “half-white,” which makes me wonder if the 100 years this redneck will face in jail for saying “nigger” while breaking the law will be cut in half. Maybe the defense can argue that Burns was calling Taylor’s white half “nigger.” Who knows. Who cares.
• I’m sure many of you have seen teasers from your local news station. You know, stupid stuff like, “Are your children safe? Tune in at 11 p.m. and find out.” Well, the only thing worse than these retarded ads are the promotions some stations use to attract viewers. OK, I get it. Gas is expensive. But, WPXI-TV, do you really have to call your latest attempt to draw viewers THE GREAT GAS GIVEAWAY? I understand that it cost more to fill up your tank nowadays, but it’s not like gasoline is in limited supply and people are killing themselves over a pint of fuel. If we were in Russia and a news station had the fortune of a few extra loaves, I could understand calling that promotion THE GREAT BREAD GIVEAWAY, but we’re not experiencing third-world conditions. And it’s not like you’re getting a free year’s worth of gasoline; you’re only getting a $50 gift card to a local station. Sorry, but I’m not tuning in to some hippie news broadcast for that.
• Speaking of this television station, last night the better half turned on WPXI (a NBC affiliate) and I got to experience what was probably the dumbest game show I have ever seen: “Deal or No Deal.” Christ almighty was this a waste of my time. At least with shows like "Jeopardy!" you have to think. Even with "Press Your Luck" you had to answer pseudo-trivia questions before going up against the Whammy. All you do in this show is pick random cases. That’s it. While I’m sure the argument can be made that some math is needed to figure if you should keep picking cases or accept the banker's offer, I still don’t care (and no, I'm not going to explain the rules of this game; find them out on your own). This is a retarded show that will hopefully go the way of “Who Wants to be a Millionaire?” Also, if last night's contestant was any more flaming during his 60 minutes worth of jumping up and down every time a case he selected was of low value he would have been on fire. There was even a point where he sat down and cried. It was around this time I began wishing he hadn’t ended up with the $300,000+ he eventually won.
• While reading through my Saturday Tribune-Review (of course I got the coupon-free Saturday edition last week and not the actual day that I subscribed for) I read the following story. There’s a Quizno’s Sub store that’s near where I live and from time-to-time they have some kid wear a dumb costume and stand out by the road dancing around. Apparently this is supposed to entice people driving to stop by and have a sandwich. Well last week this ritual enticed several punks to get out of their car at the nearby stoplight and beat this mascot up. To make matters worse, one of these hooligans took pictures of the attack with a camera phone. Fortunately, a motorist who was a cop's wife (or something like that) witnessed the event, and now the young 20-somethings are in jail. The article concluded by quoting the Quizno’s storeowner, who said that nobody wants to go back out there dressed up in that costume. God I love my community.
• Be warned that the hippie in me has broken out of his cell and is on the loose within my fingers frantically typing away. This is why I will never understand hunters or fishermen. Lookie, here’s a rare instance of a wild hybrid polar/grizzly bear. Wait, IT’S COMING RIGHT FOR US! Blast away. Hey, I just reeled in a 54-pound fish. What am I going to do with it? Well, let’s "Chop it up and feed it to the skunks and possum.” Can’t we just leave wild animals alone; we kill enough life already to fill up our bellies -- do we really need to go out and find more when there’s a perfectly acceptable meat department at your local grocery store?
• As I type this entry I’ve got Dr. Laura on and this chick just said that her husband got arrested and is in jail charged with the delinquency of a minor and she doesn’t know what to do. Her parents want her to divorce the guy, who’s also a junkie, but she wants to give him “the benefit of the doubt.” Oh, and she also has a nine-month old kid. Who the fuck are these people that call in to this show? This caller brings back a memory of one of better half’s friends who years ago was in a relationship with a guy that got convicted and served time for the same thing this caller’s hubby stands accused of. (Or was it getting convicted for “corrupting the morals of a minor?”) In the case of the better half’s friend, the initial charge was a rape allegation by two high school girls, but when that couldn’t be proved (I think because neither one could remember what happened, or that the DNA evidence was messed up due to them banging other people, too), this guy, who was 21-22 years of age, did get convicted for supplying these two high school girls with alcohol. There were two great payoffs in this whole fiasco. First, Mrs. kkk’s friend stuck by her man for the trial (although she broke up with him afterward) and was photographed on the front page of the newspaper walking toward the courtroom with the alleged rapist. Secondly, this guy’s dad was a local public official, and when the next election came around he lost his seat to someone else. (He was a Democrat for those keeping score at home.) Yet another reason not to get a chick drunk and then have sex with her. Besides, I have heard that knockout pills work better anyway.
• Speaking of drunk bitches, during the summer going into my junior year of high school I spent a few weeks at my half-brother’s California apartment, where he lived with his girlfriend at the time, Jessica. Well, Jessica had this one friend who was the “party animal” of her group. One night the three of them went out to some bar or club, and since I was under-age I didn’t tag along. They returned sometime around midnight or 1 a.m., and Jess’s friend was shit-faced and in no condition to walk, let alone drive. I was sleeping on the couch and Jessica whipped out some pull-out mattress and had her friend sleep on that in the living room, which was the room I was sleeping in as well. A short time later I heard someone trudging about, and I looked around to see what was going on. This chick was spinning around in what appeared to be a state of disorientation. Finally, she just plopped onto the couch right on top of me. Instead of feeling her up or doing some other naughty act, I was more concerned about getting the hell out of there for several reasons. 1) The cushions were squished and my back was up against a wooden frame, which hurt like hell. 2) If she would have thrown up, well, that wouldn’t have been good. Anyway, I’m not sure how long it took, but I eventually got to wiggle myself free and spent the rest of the night on her mattress. When she eventually woke up she simply got up and left. When Jessica came out of her bedroom, she asked why I was laying where I was. After telling her of my night’s events, she laughed and called her friend up, who had no recollection of any of this. That’s all I got. Thank you drive-thru.
• Well today sucked hard. Not because there was some crack-whore meltdown at the in-laws annual Mother’s Day dining spectacular. In fact, that event was pretty mild, although the stuffed pork chop I ordered left something to be desired. The trouble came earlier in the morning when we had to rush Max to an emergency vet clinic. I mentioned in a previous entry that Max had been fighting a urinary tract infection, and we had him on some medication which seemed to be working. However, we then noticed he was having difficulty going to the bathroom. We took him to the vet again and they told us to change his diet and put him on another type of medication for a few weeks. Everything had been going well; there was no change in his behavior or in his litter habits. We thought he was over his troubles, but when the better half gave Dessa, JJ and Max their late-night feeding Saturday (we feed them twice a day – early in the morning and right before we go to bed), Max wasn’t all that interested in his food. This morning, his behavior got worse, and when he started crying under our spare bedroom we knew it was time to take him to the vet. The problem was that our regular vet’s office was closed, so we called a local emergency veterinarian hospital and took him there.
We knew what the diagnosis was already – he was suffering from blockage in his pee-hole, which is a serious condition for male cats. The vets sedated him and got the grit out, which was causing the obstruction. Fortunately, we got him there early and it looks like he’ll be OK; we should be able to bring him home tomorrow evening. I just thank whoever is up there that there was a 24-hour animal hospital around where I live because I don’t think Max would have made it if we had to wait until late Monday morning/afternoon to get him an appointment at our regular vet’s office. What was scary about all this was that we had been monitoring his behavior ever since he was diagnosed with an infection in early April, and he had always shown no real signs of a problem until late last night. So if you’re a pet owner, don’t hesitate to take your animal to the vet if you think something is wrong – if you don’t, the results can be deadly. Also, even if you have a regular vet and you are happy with his or her work, look around and see if your area has a 24-hour emergency center; you never know when you might need to go there.
• Wow. I watched live that overtime goal in the last Sabers/Senators game. I know the NHL tightened up the rules but goddamn, you at least have to make an effort to stop your opponent from waltzing in short-handed and scoring the series-clinching goal. I’m not sure what was worse – that or Lebron James’ game-winning lay-up against several members of the Wizards back in Round 1 of the NBA Playoffs.
• This is simply ... awesome.
And some people think I have no social skills. Yesterday afternoon after work I drove to the emergency vet place to pick up Max, who was rushed there Sunday. When I got there I sat down and waited for them to check Max out. Now I normally don’t have good experiences at vet places when it comes to speedy service. But then again, if my cat was in trouble, I wouldn’t want some putz bitching at the front desk telling the vets to hurry it up and wait on him and his dog Fluffy. Anyway, I sat down at one end of the waiting room, and this lady was at the other end holding her kitty. Everything was fine and dandy for about 10-15 minutes, and then the ghetto family showed up with “Coco,” which was some poor dog who got stuck living with this group of misfits. Now it’s no secret that I hate children, and this bunch had four of them. However, as long as the brats are well behaved, I can tolerate their presence, let alone existence. The problem was that these pieces of mini-trash were screaming, running around and causing an overall disturbance. Did the parents try to calm these heathens down? Of course not. Did they try to get them to settle down and read to them one of the magazines that were nearby? Nope – I have doubts that the adults in this mob knew how to read. After at least 15 minutes of this the one receptionist told me that there was an emergency in the back and the vets couldn’t finalize the paperwork to give Max back to me. “No problem,” I replied. I then asked for a pen and piece of paper. I then scribbled down the following: “It’s a shame we have to carry our pets in carriers wherever we go, but yet children are allowed to roam free.” A few minutes later when the receptionist wasn’t answering the phone or talking to customers, I slipped her my note. She burst out laughing and had to run in the back and try to get some control over herself. After a few minutes, more laughter from different people was heard in the back office and when she returned to her desk she nodded toward me and said, “So true.”
After dropping Max off at home, I went out to vote. Now I said earlier that Pennsylvania recently got rid of its old voting machines in favor of computerized screens. When I went into the polling station, I got ready for another ribbing over my party affiliation. The last time I voted in the primary season, the volunteers, who are mostly Democrats, do their best to make me feel at home. One example of this hospitality is when they scream to each other across the room, “We have a Republican here!” Today was no exception as I signed my name to the register book. There was one old lady working there who was a Republican, and I know this because the grumpy old man at this place said “He’s your kind, so you show him how these machines work.” After being shown the ins and outs of these devices and entering my votes (Santorum, Swann, and some local school board people) I was walking toward the exit and told her that I thought these machines were unnecessary and frivolous. She agreed with me and then I remarked, “Hopefully it’ll make many of the Democrat voters think they’re voting for Rendell or Casey when they’re actually voting for Pat Buchanan; we need all the help we can get this year.” That line didn’t go over well with the rest of the poll workers there, but that’s just what makes saying stuff like this more fun. As I left the station, I met some young guy who was running for State Representative on the Independent ticket and was looking for signatures. I put my signature down for him and we talked a bit. Even if I don’t support a candidate or referendum, I’ll still put my name down for them if asked. My opinion is that even though I don’t agree with the issue/person I think they have a right to be voted on by the public. My only exception to this rule would be if the measure I’m being asked to sign always got voted down in the general election. For example, if I got approached to sign some paper to support getting a measure on an election ballot that would make gay marriage legal, I’d sign. And when the voters by a margin of 80 percent to 20 percent shoot down the measure, I’ll laugh. Now if these same hippies still tried getting this stupid idea on the ballot for the next 10 years, then I’ll refuse to sign their signature sheet. You lost, get over it. Do what every good activist does – get a red diaper doper baby to make it whatever lamebrain idea they want to impose on an unsuspecting public legal.
• So one of the better half's friends works at a day care center. Actually, her dad owns the place, however, he pays his daughter about $15k to run it, and by run it I mean oversee just about every responsibility out there. On top of that he charges her rent to live in the basement of his house. I love this man. Anyway, Mrs. kkk just told me that every year her friend holds a PRESCHOOL GRADUATION CEREMONY for the little brats in her center. A PRESCHOOL GRADUATION CEREMONY. I'm not sure if this includes the ol' cap and gown, but in this day and age who the hell knows. Anyway, a big brouhaha by the parents took place when it was revealed that each kid was only allowed three tickets. I don't know what's worse: PRESCHOOLERS having a GRADUATION CEREMONY, or parents pissed off because they can only have three people attend this thing. Believe it or not, I actually have a memory of my PRESCHOOL GRADUATION CEREMONY. What did I do? My mom picked me up and I was driven home. Another memory I have is taking some kid's coloring picture and scribbling it up. One of the teachers saw me do this, yelled at me and when I took my coloring picture up to show her she said that she didn't like it. I think my preschool had naptime, but all I remember is laying on the floor.
• I was just flipping through the channels and came across one of the 20 Jesus channels on my cable lineup. Normally I just skip over these stations, but for the brief moment this station was on my television I saw the words, "Mike Sweeny." Mike Sweeny of the Kansas City Royals? I put the clicker down. There's this hippie interview show with some friar interviewing Sweeny. Good lord is this guy a Jesus freak. The most memorable experience of his life was his high school confirmation weekend retreat where he found Jesus Christ? Oh man. HA -- he just said that his high school team won the state championship because they prayed together, and teams that pray together win together. I'll take this time out now to let you make your own joke about his team's current situation.
• Once a week the better half and I go grocery shopping. Now many of you know that if I don't have a coupon for something and it's not on sale, then I don't get it. Mrs. kkk, on the other hand, has no sense of fiscal responsibility, which explains why she's up to her eyeballs in debt. Anyway, she was called in to her second job at the pizza place on the day we normally shop for groceries, which left me in charge. I swear to Christ I'm as bad as a valley girl at the mall when it comes to grocery shopping by myself. To top it off, chicken and steaks were buy one get one free this week. After much coupon selecting and sale item pricing, my $131.86 bill went down to $70.15. Score one for the cheapskate this round.
• Instead of shooting them, shouldn’t we be encouraging these people to get out of the United States? Either way, I think the Mexican goverment should be concerned with the way they treat their guests south of the border before telling us what to do with ours.
• Only community services? These people should be dragged out and shot for what they did. Oh, and my favorite part of the story is in bold, especially since one night back when we were living in Ohio JJ got outside at 2 a.m. when I went to put a letter in the nearby mailbox (don't ask) and the better half found him the next morning by the backdoor crying – I’m surprised he even figured that much out.
Don't fuck with a cat that has "Mr." in his name.
• Well today was one of those days where I had to go into the office early at 7 a.m. Then it was off to a quarterly board meeting at 9 a.m. that didn’t get out until 3 p.m. Then it was back to the office where I stayed until 10:30 p.m. working on stuff (including this entry ). While many people hate to work weekends, I don’t really mind it. Hell, for most of my life working weekends was considered the norm. But what I really like about working Saturdays now is that I’m by myself in the building. This means no phone calls to deal with, no bosses giving me assignments that they will never get around to doing anything with, no rush-hour traffic to navigate when driving home, and no golf shirt and Dockers (although I’d rather wear these kind of clothes than jeans, there’s nothing quite like wearing shorts while typing at your work station). Also, because I’m not a salaried employee these eight non-meeting work hours mean comp time, which I’ll be taking off sometime this week or next week.
Here’s a tip for my fellow hourly employees; when you work the extra hours, don’t keep them around; use them ASAP. And don't forget to write down the times you came in early or stayed late. The reason for this is if you wait a while to take that three-day weekend, your boss will strangely forget the extra work you performed. It’s amazing how bosses forget things like the 16-hour workday you put in or how you worked a 50-hour workweek. I learned that lesson the hard way a few years ago at this place, which really pissed me off because I'm usually pretty good at keeping documentation of what I do. After working four days out-of-state where my workday always began at 5-6 a.m. and finished at 1-2 a.m., I was “fortunate” enough to get ONE FUCKING COMP DAY out of the whole thing. Oh, and this was around the time when I was moving into my house back in ’04. So instead of having three days to comfortably get situation in the biggest purchase of my life, I got to do several days' worth of moving in one 24-hour period. But onto happier stuff: Whenever I decided to take a day off from work, I prefer it to be a Monday. Most people I know like having Fridays off, but I’d rather stay up late on Sunday night (especially if it's football season) and enter the workweek with only four more days to go until the next weekend.
• I know NOTHING about this hippie Da Vinci Code. The only think I’ve heard about this book and the resulting movie is that it’s supposed to show us how Jesus had a wife or something. I don’t care about this stupid premise, but I’ll play along. No matter what “proof” is out there, there’s no way Jesus was knocking boots with the Mary chick (not his mom mind you, but the other one with the funky last name). My proof for this? If Jesus was married, he wouldn’t have been saying shit like “Lord, why hast thou forsaken me?” while on the cross. Like any married man, he’d be saying, “Come on, God, kill me now! Damnit, now she’s nagging me about dripping blood onto my clothes and how these stains won’t come out in the wash. Now you're letting me live to hear her bitch about how I never listen to what she has to say? You really are a cruel God!” Then again I could be all wrong; maybe Jesus was hitched. After all, it’s not like he stuck around here on earth to hang with his disciples after he was resurrected. He probably wanted to get the hell off the planet since the morning after he did the deed with Mary M.
• If the people of New Orleans re-elect Ray Nagin as their mayor, then I hope Pat Roberston really does have some inside info as to what kind of havoc God will wreak on us as a nation.
• KKK's Top 103 Posters List
So back a week or so ago I was looking at someone’s favorite something-or-other list, and I suddenly got inspired to do my own list of top/favorite posters at TSM. As I began typing away the names of user handles that popped into my head, I had no idea how many names I would continue with before stopping. I got up to 103 before getting bored, and also because I was too lazy to trim off the three names that would make my list an even 100 number. After looking over this list a day or so later I did a little re-arranging of the order and finalized it. So, without further ado, I kick-off KKK's Top 103 Poster List.
Number 103: Sideburnious
Sideburnious falls under the category of posters I like but I don’t spend much, if any, time talking to. I think one reason I'm having some trouble coming up with a "favorite Sideburnious moment" is because he’s “TSM Invisible Poster.” However, he’s not invisible enough to make #103 on my list.
And now a word from the expert panel I have put together to comment on the people I’ve listed.
From Carnival:
So who will be in the 102 spot? Tune in and find out.
• So tonight will bring to an end to “Charmed,” one of those shows that I have no idea why I watch. Actually, I know the reason. A year or two ago the better half began watching this program on TNT with three chicks talking and doing nothing but show off cleavage for an hour before finally vanquishing someone (or something) at the end. After asking her what the show was about and being told that it deals with three witches who do a bunch of stuff I retreated to another room. Months went by and every time this show was on television Mrs. kkk would be there watching it. The few times I saw more than 10 seconds of this program I asked questions as to what the hell was going on. The answers I got most of the time just confused me more. "If Cole is the source of all evil why then did he stop being a lawyer?" "Didn't Shannon Doherty used to be on that show?" How come the chick who replaced Shannon can teleport while the others can't?" "Didn't they already kill those Triads before?" "How come Leo can't heal people anymore?" Anyway, whenever a holiday or birthday would come around, getting the latest “Charmed” season released on DVD was always an easy gift choice to get. Because the better half watched these shows nonstop I inevitably started watching them, and once the show came back for a final season on the WB I watched it along with her. Now it’s the series finale and I’ll be hoping that Billie dies a miserable death. If you don’t know who Billie is, don’t ask. Trust me, you’ll be better off that way.
KKK’s Top 103 Posters
Number 95: Kotz
Kotz is one of those riddles wrapped in an enigma for me. I’ve known him at TSM for years, and I’m still unsure if we get along or not. There have been times in the past where we’ve had playful banter, but there have been other instances where we, well, haven’t. However, he’s been a reasonably good sport whenever I’ve joked about his sexuality, among other things, so I’ll gladly include him on this list.
And now a word or three from the expert panel I have put together to comment on the people I’ve listed.
From Carnival:
From The Real World’s Champion:
From King of the 909:
• I am usually a stickler for reading the fine print of an offer or deal. However, there was one coupon that I contend was intentionally misleading. Every month or so I get these coupons in the mail called Val-Pack. Most of the stuff is for pizza parlors not close to my residence or for products that I have no need for, like aluminum siding. Well, this one vision place advertises in this Val-Pack, and last month I used a coupon for an eye exam and two pairs of contact lenses. So far so good. I then decided to use another coupon a few weeks later for a pair of eyeglasses. Now the coupon says get $75 off a pair of frames and lenses. I look at the fine print to this coupon and it says “Minimum purchase $175.” Fair enough. When I returned to the eye place for my second pair of contact lenses and a follow-up exam I showed them this coupon and said I was interested in getting a pair of glasses; the last time I got my eyes checked was six years ago, and I can’t remember when I got my last set of glasses. Anyway, this lady tells me that the frames I picked out don’t qualify for the discount. When I asked why she said the minimum purchase had to be $175 after the discount, so the frame/lens total had to be $250. She then proceeded to act like I was three years old and said that many people don’t read the fine print of coupons. Uh, bitch. I did read the fine print. I’ve just never had the “minimum purchase” be used after the applied discount.
• So I was listening to RIGHT-WING RADIO today, and during one top-of-the-hour newscast the guy said that the state of Pennsylvania has, surprise surprise, a budget surplus. And that our wonderful Ed Rendell said he wanted the surplus to go toward, get this, tax cuts. You know it’s an election year when tax-and-spend Democrat pieces of shit want to give you back your hard-earned money. The sad thing is the rank-and-file of his party will actually believe Swin-dell’s line of bullshit.
• Well, I haven’t talked about Mikey Moore in a while, so I feel obligated to report a veteran suing him for $85 million because Mikey used his image without permission in “Fahrenheit 9/11.” While I doubt nothing will be done about this, I would be disappointing my fan base by letting the obvious “I guess someone might not be able to super-size his meals for a month” joke go by. So there you have it.
• Well, 06/06/06 has come and gone, and the apocalypse did not take place. However, I don’t plan on the Anti-Christ taking any action until she decides to leave her senator's seat in New York and run for president, but that’s another year or so away. Actually I’m rather encouraged about Satan not taking over, seeing how the Angles pounded the Devil Rays 12-2 yesterday. In addition, the Pirates lost last night, so that means all is normal with the world.
• For at least six months I have been trying to get the better half to agree with me to switch our phone service over to Comcast from Verizon. Every time I bring this up she says “no.” The reason? She thinks it will be “weird” having phone service with a cable company. Yeah it’ll be weird. It’ll also be cheaper. Yesterday this sales rep from Comcast came to my door and let me know of some special deal where not only would we have our cable internet connection and a cheaper phone service than Verizon's, but also we’d get digital cable all for $20 less a month than what we’re currently paying for standard cable, internet and Verizon phone service. In fact, even after this 12-month promotion expires, we’d still be getting these services for a lower rate than for what we're paying now. When I told Mrs. kkk about this deal she expressed doubt due to the fact she doesn’t like the Digital Cable remote. When we moved back to Pennsylvania in 2003 we signed up for some special deal from Comcast that gave us digital cable for six months free (or something similar). The service wasn’t bad, but I didn’t really care for it, mostly because I didn’t give a crap about the extra channels (although I did tune in to HBO's OZ). However, I care about saving $20 per month, so I’ll deal with the hippie remote. After explaining to the better half that we’d be saving money every month, along with paying for all three services in one bill, I think I got her on the ropes. If this doesn’t work, I could always beat her, but I hold off on spousal abuse as a last resort. Well, maybe not last, but close to last. Well maybe more along the lines of when I don’t feel like bloodying up my work clothes…
• Well Steve McNair is going to be traded to the Ravens. I feel for him. McNair put his heart and soul into the Titans for years, playing through pain and injury, only to be told “well you make too much money so off with you.” I understand the NFL is a business, but fuck it; if a team signs someone to a contract, and they have to restructure the deal later on because they promised that athlete more money than the salary cap will allow, then screw the team. I don’t blame the player for wanting what’s coming to him. It’ll be interesting to see how the Ravens play this year with McNair at the helm, or at least until he gets hurt.
• So one kitten was reported as rabid at a PetSmart store. Now they are suspending their pet adoptions for the mid-Atlantic region? What, did the cat infect the entire area? From the article: “PetSmart has arranged more than 3 million adoptions in its 17-year history, and has only had one other rabies case, said Paul Amirault, district manager for PetSmart.” So now other cats may have to be put down because they couldn’t find a home via PetSmart. Fuck that shit. I wish we took such drastic measures on humans. So little Bobby has been caught beating up some kid? Time to give his 10 brothers and sisters, plus crack mom, the needle.
KKK's Top 103 Posters
Number 91: Paul Stanley
I don't really talk to Paul all that much, but I seem to remember him going through some troubles in life, from family to job situations. If he's been laid off already for making too much money, here's hoping he finds something that pays him more and has him working less. He seems to be a hit in the Music Folder, particularly when it comes to concert reviews, but since I don't venture much around those parts, I really can't say much more about him.
• So now Abu Musab al-Zarqawi is dead. Bye bye. What I think is funny is that Michael Berg, the father of one of Zarqawi's beheading victims, said that not only did he "learn to forgive" Zarqawi for lopping his kid's head off, but he also said that, "I have no sense of relief, just sadness that another human being had to die." Goddamn did the wrong Berg go over to Iraq.
• Speaking of commies, it seems that the Jersey Girls caught Ann Coulter's ire, and the conservative skeletor then said some not-so-nice things about these harpies. If you don't remember, these bitches used the memories of their husbands, who died in the 9/11 attacks, to repeat some Democrat talking points in the '04 election season. Of course Ann's comments are causing outrage, with even Hitlery getting in on the action. I'm not a huge Coulter fan, but to these "Witches of East Brunswick" I say too fucking bad. If you are going to exploit your dead spouses in hopes of electing your boy Kerry as president, then get ready for some backlash. Like I've said before regarding this issue, if I had to wake up next to and listen to anyone of this group day in and day out for a prolonged period of time I probably would have jumped from the World Trade Center before 9/11/01. However, I have to take Ann to task on one premise, and that is when she said, “I've never seen people enjoying their husbands' deaths so much.” When it's my turn to say "what's up" to the Reaper, just wait and see how quickly my life insurance policy gets cashed in.
• I might as well complete my insensitive trifecta by talking about a local story. Apparently, some bad heroin (as opposed to the "good" kind found in the organic section of the crack house/meth lab/wherever this shit is made) has been shipped out to the Shittsburgh area, killing some users (and even a few people from the *gasp!* suburbs). Cops have been trying to figure out where the source is coming from, and they're hoping to collect as much of the bad heroin as possible. I say why bother; let the addicts kill themselves. Hell, give me a bag and I'll deliver one (or ten) to my crack-whore sister-in-law’s place of residence, provided that she hasn’t been evicted yet. Also, wouldn't it be better to have this shit out on the street? Maybe it will scare some people out of trying this stuff out. Oh, and from what I heard the bags this deadly dope is in have labels printed on them titled "Get high or die tryin.'" At least its producer can’t be accused of false advertising.
KKK’s Top 103 Posters
Number 90: Masked Man of Mystery
He’s masked and he’s mysterious. He’s the Masked Man of Mystery and he’s occupies the 90 spot on the list. There are two reasons he is on this list. The first is that he’s a Professional Otaku, and no list is complete without one of those. The second is that he said one of my all-time favorite lines at this place. After getting his feathers ruffled by an anti-Muslim remark by MikeSC (big surprise there) he said:
Surprisingly enough, he returned, and even posted, in the above-mentioned thread. Not only that but he also educated us on who that hot piece of under-developed ass is in his avatar. I still have no idea what a Professional Otaku is, but damnit I know I just have to have one.
And now a word from the expert panel I have put together to comment on the people I’ve listed.
From lovecraft321:
• Well today was the suq. I noticed last night that Max was having some issues with using the litter, so today it was yet another trip to the vet. Turns out he has another urinary tract infection and has to stay overnight. Hopefully with the new diet we’re going to put him on he won’t have this trouble any more, or as much. There’s some other trouble brewing as well because the way the better half and I trick him, Dessa and JJ into their carrier no longer works. For years one of us would pick up whoever had to go to the vet and the other person would get the carrier. By the time the captured realized that they had been tricked it was too late for them to escape. A few years ago, they began to get wise to practice, so we went with Plan B. We give them scheduled feedings – a quarter cup of kibble when we wake up and right before bedtime. They have this schedule down pat, but whenever we needed one of them to get in the carrier we would put food in their dishes. When the three of them would romp into the feeding room thinking they were getting second breakfast, the better half would close the door and I would go get the carrier from the basement. This tactic worked about a half dozen times. Notice I said “worked.” Now when it’s not early in the morning or late at night and we’re putting food in their bowls, they hover around the room’s entrance waiting for us to leave before entering. Today was even worse. Not only did Max totally stay out of the feeding room, but also he took off and hid underneath some chairs in the kitchen. Of course after I moved the chairs he scampered off and hid under the dining room table. Once that was moved, he went under the living room coffee table. After that it was under a corner table between our two living room couches. Once I rearranged half of the living room’s furniture he made a dash to the basement and behind the staircase, which he has pretty much his own lair. Because I couldn’t reach him anymore I had to flush him out via squirt bottle, forcing him to get out in the open. But did that ploy work? Nope. The little bastard ran upstairs into the spare bedroom. This was a good news/bad news situation. By going into the spare bedroom he was limiting his escape options. However, if he got under the bed it would be a pain in the ass to get him out. I was able to nab him before he made it under all the way under the bed and then it was off to the vet.
• Having two lawyers settle a dispute over the location for a witness statement with a game of “rock, scissors, paper” is cute, but I would have preferred pistols at dawn.
• Entertainment Weekly made some hippie list about the 25 Most Controversial Films OF ALL TIME, and the Passion of the Christ tops the list. Other entries include A Clockwork Orange, JFK, Natural Born Killers, Fahrenheit 9/11, The Da Vinci Code , United 93, Deep Throat, The Last Temptation of Chirst, The Deer Hunter, Basic Instinct and Do the Right Thing. Uh, ok. This seems a little too Vh1-ny for my taste, and I really don’t know what to about the appropriateness of these listings, considering I didn’t bother to watch most of these movies.
KKK's Top 103 Posters
Number 86: JAxl Morrison
I haven't noticed Jaxl around lately, but I generally like what I read from this guy. Then again, I don't have a daughter that I have to worry about him corrupting. When he's not putting his sexual partner's life at risk by banging her while she still has a tampon inside of her, he's putting his own life at risk by getting it on with military wives. (I must say that, after seeing a picture of that Marine's wife he was "at attention" with, you can certainly say he was committing a worthwhile risk.) But hot military wives aren't the only things he sticks his dick in; he'll even give a lot of lovin' to those that have lots to love. Oddly enough, he has also started a thread about getting test for STDs.
And now a word from the expert panel I have put together to comment on the people I’ve listed.
From Porter:
• Wow, first a red diaper doper baby Vermont judge gives a repeated child molester a two-month sentence. Now, on the other side of the spectrum in the same state, some piece of shit got hit with the death penalty for kidnapping and murdering a supermarket worker. Even though this is the first time in nearly 50 years someone has been sentenced to death in this state, he'll probably croak from old age before dying from the needle.
• While we're on the subject of spectrum swings, from the same Court that brought you the Miranda warning 40 years ago now say police don't have to knock before coming in with a search warrant. Well of course they don't, because thanks to George W. Bush they already collect all the evidence they need while illegally wiretapping your phone. Oh, and the deciding vote went to Alito. Woo-hoo. Here's hoping Bush gets to appoint at least one more black-robed lawyer to keep the Ginsburgs and Bryers in the back of the classroom.
• After Big Ben "apologized" for his motorcycle accident, there has been a stupid topic going through the Shittsburgh sports-talk radio circuit. The debate is should Ben "apologize" for the fans? What a stupid fucking argument. Of course he shouldn't. I was listening to some callers say he "owes it" to the fans because they pay for Ben's salary. Whatever. So I guess the next time you're in a fast-food restaurant and your cashier doesn't do cartwheels when getting your fries you should demand them to apologize because they owe it to you since you "pay their wages"? Fuck you. Like someone isn't going to go to a Steelers game because Ben isn't the quarterback; what did you people do for the 70+ years when he wasn't the Steelers QB?
• Bye Dan. I'm sure the two or three people that still think you matter will be starting a vicious letter-writing campaign to cBS over kicking you to the curb. Remember ... courage.
• This is interesting. The Mavericks were up two games to none on the Miami Heat coming to Miami. No team has ever won three consecutive home games since the NBA Finals went to a 2-3-2 home/away game format. Now the Heat have tied the series up at two. Conventional wisdom will say that since no team has ever one three straight home games that Dallas is sure to win Game 5. However, earlier this year the conventional wisdom was that no NFL Wild Card team that played all of its postseason games on the road would win a Super Bowl.
Well I had a Seinfeld moment yesterday. The better half and I decided to take our separate bank accounts and merge them into one. When we went to her bank to close out her account, and withdraw the whopping $1.50 from her savings account (OK, she also had her most recent paycheck in there, too), we approached this bank teller who looked to be in her early 20s. As this relatively thin woman nervously typed in some numbers on her computer, one thing above all else stuck out at me. She had Man Hands. God damn were they Man Hands. How these sausages managed to push down only one key at a time were beyond me. The reason I noticed these Man Hands was because we were at her station for at least 10-15 minutes. The reason? She didn’t know the first thing about closing an account and had the old “Customer Service Representative in headlights” look. I’m not complaining, mind you, because this “headlights” feeling is one of the worst things anyone can experience, outside of unsuccessfully trapping a soccer ball with your inner thigh without wearing a jock strap. It’s funny when I hear some people who have never worked a customer-service job in their life complain when a cashier took longer than four seconds to give out proper change. Look, I know there are dipshits out there ringing registers, but not every cashier is a high school dropout who can’t perform basic match. My theory as to how normally bright people can suddenly clam up in situations like this isn’t because they can’t do the job, it’s that they aren’t used to be put on the spot like this. It’s like having to perform improv in front of an audience, and many people, especially if they’re new to something, just aren’t cut out for that sort of thing.
Believe me, I know this feeling. There’s nothing like thinking you can answer just about anything a customer asks you, and then getting thrown for a loop with the first customer of the day who asks you something. The only way to deal with these types of experiences is to live through them. For me the most aggravating of these situations is when you are giving a customer change and they throw the old “here’s a few extra dollars, now give me a $10 bill instead of $5 and three $1s. Like I said before, the actual math of this equation is simple enough, but when you’re into hour seven of your shift, have four other people waiting in line, and have another customer asking you a question about something else, it’s easy to get flustered. And when you pause for a few seconds to get an idea of what’s going on, the spotlight suddenly shines brighter on you, and your every action and reaction is being judged by a bunch of people who think you’re not worthy of earning your $6/hour wage. For the record, my way of dealing with this is to not let the customer’s “extra $2” get anywhere near the $8 in change I was about to give him. Once that transaction was complete, I would then take the $10 in loose bills, put it in my register, and give out a $10 bill. Simple, effective and foolproof. And the only way I learned this was by trial and error, and then even more error.
Back to the bank. So when this teller looked around for someone to help her out with a procedure she probably never had to do, and was only trained on for a few minutes when she started this job, what did I do? I stepped aside and worked on something else, trying to make her uncomfortable situation a little more bearable. I don’t know if it helped any, but it had to have been better than if I were to stand over her and impatiently tap my fingers on her counter.
• I think I said a while ago about how if I had my choice to take a workday off it would be Monday. This is because it’s nice to have the three-day weekend and arrive to work with only four more days until the next break. However, I think my second choice of days would be Wednesday. This is because it nicely breaks the workweek up into a couple of two-day parts. Why do I mention this? Take a guess.
• I mentioned this at the other place, but I feel it needs repeating to all my soon-to-be-married TSM brethren. If your better half wants to take a portion of your wedding cake, stick it in the freezer and consume it on your one-year anniversary, do yourself a favor and don’t swallow. Trust me on this one.
• I haven’t watched O’Reilly’s show in a while, and last night I tuned into a segment where he was talking with two defense lawyers about Rush’s latest, err, run-in with the law. While it’s the typical formula for a cable news program to have guests with differing points of view, I found it funny that one of the defense lawyers was basically saying Rush was totally at fault and how he was responsible for the whole predicament, tossing away any idea that the local Palm Beach powers-that-be might be on a witch hunt of sorts. Now I don’t care about this story; I don’t even care what your opinion is of this incident. What I found hilarious was that a DEFENSE LAWYER was putting the blame on the DEFENDANT in this situation; it was odd hearing from one of these bottom-feeders to say that a "law-breaker" got what he deserved.
• So politicians in a state’s majority party might redistrict some seats around so their political party might reap even greater election gains? Get the hell out of here. And what is with these whiny bitches in Texas complaining about new congressional districts? Gerrymandering is an American tradition as sweet as apple pie. Democrats do it. Republicans do it. Hell, the Green Party would do it if they every got enough of their moonbats elected to office.
• The new Superman movie is now playing, and the film’s actors and actresses are making their rounds on the talk-show circuit pimping it like any good spokesperson does. I must admit I’m not a big fan of Superman, or of comic book characters in general. I’m not going to diss comic books, but they’re just not my thing. I bought some as a kid, but found video games to be more of a priority with my limited resources. I must say though that I have always been partial to Batman, and I used to own a few of his comic books as a kid. Another character I liked was the Punisher. I read somewhere that Frank Castle was the only Marvel “superhero” who was a normal human being; no superpowers – just lots of guns. Whether or not that’s true, I don’t know. There was another comic book character I read some of when I was a kid, and that was Sgt. Rock. Basically, this was a WWII character and he killed lots of Krauts and had some pseudo-fling with a French chick. The reason I remember this guy is because the one time I went to a comic book fair/convention as a kid I was able to buy a dozen or so of his older editions for just a few dollars. Oh, and if you haven’t seen this Web site before, I recommend it wholeheartedly; be warned, you won’t see Superman the same way ever again.
KKK's Top 103 Posters
Number 79: Treble
He crashed my 10,000 post celebration and he didn’t like my use of "..." after posts back when I used to do this. However, he has known me before Mumia, and if you’re going to make fun of me take a note from him because he does is good. Also, you can't really blame the Office Glen for crashing my threads, considering I have derailed a few of his on occasion.
And now a word from the expert panel I have put together to comment on the people I’ve listed.
From Kingofthe909:
• So I watched O’Reilly the other day for the first time in a while, so I figured what the hell and turned on Hannity & Colmes last night. The topic they were bitching about for this particular segment was some hick school putting up a picture of Jesus. This of course brings the Separation of Church/State Nazis and my buddy the Fascist Barry Lynn. I swear to Christ (no pun intended) if I ever see this guy in real life I might take a shovel to his noggin. Anyway, what got my attention was when Alan Colmes said, when defending the Fascist Barry Lynn, the usual talking point of “what if other religions did this?” Alan then posed the question of whether or not Christians would be so accommodating if a picture of Mohammad was posted instead. Actually, I think that would be great if this...
...got posted in our government schools. And if any offended Muslims are reading this (and I doubt you are because one of the worst things you can do to a Muslim male is present him with any technology that was created after 400 A.D.), remember, this isn't your sacred prophet. It's Larry. So save your jihad for something else, like those people that molest produce in the grocery store for 20 minutes before putting the shit back down and leaving.
• Well, Andrea Yates is getting a new trial (and is no longer seeing Satanic ducks and teddy bears on her cell walls) but hey, look at this. A man charged with kidnapping, raping and killing 9- year-old Jessica Lunsford just had a judge say that his confession isn’t admissible in court because the cops didn't grant him a lawyer. Although this guy will still "probably" (you never know with juries nowadays) be found guilty, shit like this only re-affirms my stance that if someone harms your family in any way you kill the fucker before some robed pinko decides that a "life" in "life sentence" means the lifespan of a fruit fly. And while I'm on the subject of judges, what the fuck?
Although it's nice to know that WASPy professionals aren't the only ones in trouble for whipping it out (allegedly, of course).
So I informed my idiot boss back in March that Mrs. kkk was going to leave her job in June, meaning she’d be without health insurance for the few months she was going to be in-between jobs. I wanted her to be put on my workplace insurance plan for just 2-3 months just in case something should happen to her. I was then told to wait until the end of March and he would give me the paperwork I’d have to fill out in order to get her on the health plan. Well, the end of March came, and I informed him of this; March turned into April and I heard nothing back, despite asking him about this every week. In fact, I was scolded one time because I was “annoying” him with this request. By the time mid-May came around I knew this asshole, whose motto in life is “That’s what the last minute is for,” wasn’t going to giving me the proper forms, despite my (at least) weekly reminders. The better half’s last day of work was June 2. On JUNE 7 I get this e-mail from the asshole that read, “Here are forms you asked about a WEEK OR TWO AGO regarding putting your wife on our health plan. Let me know if you still want to do this. Thanks.” It was at this time I decided to treat every work-related request of his with the same respect and diligence he deems worthy of dealing with my family’s health care matters. And it’s been a fun month since.
I may seem to some as being an asshole, and for the most part I am. However, one thing I take seriously is my job duties. I’m one of those queer birds that actually thinks getting work done early is a good thing, and very rarely do I turn in something right at its deadline. However, every since this events I mentioned in the first paragraph, I happily do my work and wait until whatever I’ve done is requested. If I’m told to turn something in right after I create it, I do that; however, this never happens because, hey, that’s what the last minute is for. Before if I would have worked on something, such as a brochure, I would have turned it in a day or so after the request was made, and then it would be put aside for weeks by the idiot until the deadline for this project was a day or so away, which would be when I’d get revisions.
Every three months our organization, which sells insurance and annuity products, sends out quarterly statements to our customers. Now instead of outsourcing the remedial task of stuffing thousands upon thousands of envelopes, all the “staff” has to perform this job. However, I’m actually one of the few people at this place who doesn’t mind doing this. Hell, I’ve performed a lot worse tasks for a lot less pay. I’ll gladly sit in my office, listen to RIGHT-WING RADIO, and stuff envelopes for a day. This past quarterly stuffing, my idiot boss wanted to include a stupid additional insert which informed customers that our annuity rates have increased. Of course this was my job, and after a day or so I came up with some conceptual designs. But rather than immediately put the samples on asshole’s desk, I just kept them on my hard drive and did the 20 other job responsibilities that somehow magically became part of my job description by the Workplace Delegation Fairy. A week or so went by and I was finally asked about the statue of these stupid inserts. Since they were requested, I immediately sent him a sample of the insert he decided upon with the message, “I have had the revisions done for more than a week now; nobody told me what to do with them when I made the revisions, so I just kept them on file until they were requested.”
A few days went by, and the “deadline” the idiot originally set to have these inserts finalized passed. I was then given some “last-second” revisions he wanted done. Apparently, it took almost a week for him to realize that he didn’t like the font size of some words on the insert, among other things, and he sent this revision request to me via e-mail as I was shutting down my office computer and heading out for the weekend, mentioning, “these need changed ASAP.” If anyone has seen the movie “Office Space,” (and I suggest that you do), think of when Bill Lumbergh waits until the end of the workday Friday to ask Peter Gibbons to come in on Saturday to work. I made the changes the next workday, which was Monday. Tuesday came and went, and I then took Wednesday off, which apparently was when the great envelope stuffing drive took place; darn, I missed it. It’d be nice if someone would actually tell me when these events are going to take place rather than just have a thousand or two statements plopped onto my desk. Since I took the day off, I was unaware that those stupid inserts I had mentioned above were not ready to be stuffed since these inserts hadn’t been printed out yet by the idiot, so people spent that Wednesday just folding the statements; not stuffing them. (They had to wait until the inserts were printed, then stuff both the statements and inserts into envelopes; don't ask my why they were told to do this, I have no idea.) So not only did I miss the great “folding expedition of June 2006” I wasn’t part of the “great insert-stuffing orgy of chaos” which took place Thursday and Friday of last week. Although I’m enjoying my new pseudo-passive aggressive behavior, I don’t think I need to do this in order to have my idiot boss fuck up; he seems to do a good enough job of it on his own.
