For the last few years I have done my kkkhristmas shopping for the better half early into the season. Now for the first time in several years I avoided Black Friday and stayed away from those unbeatable deals found in the Sunday circulars. I figured this year I’ll do the shopping the Friday before Jesus' b-day when she’s out at her second job. So here’s a rundown of my thrill-packed day.
My workplace had its yearly holiday party, and for the third straight year I avoided it entirely. Fuck those people. Sorry, but I’m not about to break bread with a good number of these assholes, even if is just for show. If I don’t like you motherfucker I don’t like you, and the holiday season isn’t going to change that. If anything these Jew bastards should be happy they don’t have to spring for another meal at whatever cheap-ass restaurant they decided to hold this year’s lunch. Why am I talking about this? Because when everyone was out at this event, and then to an early exit home, I headed out to deliver some material to a mailing service and then thought I could get my kkkhristmas shopping done. Boy was I wrong.
My first stop was Best Buy. Holy Christ was traffic awful. In hindsight I should have known better because this shopping center is horribly laid out. I’ve stopped by this area before when I didn’t feel like going right back to work after dropping off my monthly mailing service parcels, but these times were during the non-holiday season. I should have known better, but whatever. After finally getting into Best Buy, I discovered that the store was ransacked and the shelves were nearly bare. Hell, I didn’t even know what I wanted to get the better half. However, I just spent 30 minutes in gridlock, so I HAD to get something. Let’s see, she has been nagging me about seeing the Underworld sequel. There we go. While I’m out in this area I might as well check out the nearby Target and Circuit City stores. Shit, nothing in either one of these stores. Might as well get the uber-Narnia 40-disc special edition since it’s only $7 more than the regular 15-disc non-uber-edition. Oh well, it got me out of the office for a few hours. I returned back to work for 10 minutes, finished what I had to and headed home.
On my way home from work I was stopped at a red light at a shitty intersection where the stop lights fuck the traffic up even worse than it would normally be. Hmm, there’s a Wal-Mart nearby, but it’s usually filled with black people. No joke: This store supposedly has one of the highest rates of theft in the region, and it was rumored that it would close up shop. Might as well give it a shot. Jesus Chrst, there are almost as many old/fat people in the store with those scooter devices than there are cars in the parking lot. LOL – this kid is yelling “I have to go potty” and the rest of the young’ins in this clan (3-4 more, at least) are now yelling the same thing with the parents about ready to have a meltdown. And I’ll say this about black people and shopping carts – they’re almost as bad driving those things as they are with their cars. And they aren’t insured driving either one. Or am I thinking about Mexicans? I spent about five minutes in this shithole and high-tailed it out of there. So it’s still been more than a year since I have actually purchased anything at Wal-Mart. It’s not that I’m a Wal-Mart hater. I'm an under-class hater, and Wal-Mart has plenty of them. Then again, going into one of these stores can make you feel much better about yourself, or it will sadden you seeing your fellow man in such pathetic condition. I guess it depends on what your mood is at the time. For me, seeing Wal-Mart customers is an uplifting experience, especially the ones with multiple kids who are waddling up and down the aisles complaining about the prices.
The rest of my trip home was uneventful, although the shitty weather, coupled with the holiday traffic, made driving for the entire day an adventure. Fortunately, I got home in one piece. I listened to some phone messages, did a few household odds and ends, and then got ready for my second excursion of kkkhristmas shopping. But now we’ll be in my (red)neck of the woods. My stomping grounds. My people. Whenever I make my rounds with retail shopping in this area, it consists of driving out to the mall/Best Buy because they are the farthest stores away from me. I then hit all the other stores on the way back home. First was the mall. Why do I even bother going to this place? None of these stores do anything for me. I don’t buy clothes or jewelry, so that wipes out at least half of the merchants there right off the bat. Hey, I’ll walk into Spencer’s and look at all the crap that I’ll never buy. What’s funny about Spencer’s is that I always see these teen-agers hanging out, but then there are always one or two old normal-looking patrons who are in the sex-card/humor section of the store. Heh. Well, I’m at the mall, I might as well buy some way over-priced calendars of kittens. Next year is coming up and we need calendars. And they’re kitties. Sure I can get them at half-price elsewhere, but I’m already here and getting a free look at the cashier’s rack. One sixteen-month calendar and a one-a-day calendar. They cost HOW much? Oh what the hell, it’s kkkhristmas.
As I’m typing, my female cat Dessa is taking a shit in the computer room’s litter box. How the hell can cats, after squeezing out a few logs, put their noses just centimeters away from their steaming fecal matter? Gag. Now she’s trying to cover up her load by scratching the nearby wall – USE THE LITTER. THAT’S WHAT IT’S FOR! Oh, and this odor is going to linger for a while. Say, what better time to bring this entry to a close on such a riveting cliffhanger? But don't worry, tomorrow we'll have the exciting conclusion to tonight’s kkkhristmas shopping excursion.
10:15 p.m.
• Well, I just heard the news. My last living grandparent just passed away – grandma on the old man’s side. She was in her 90s, so it’s not like life cheated her out of anything; when it came to cashing Social Security checks, she definitely came out ahead. She raised six kids during the Depression; two of them who have died before her. The last time I saw her (Christmas Eve), she was bed-ridden and unable to talk, so it was only a matter of time. There are several variations of old people. You have the constantly miserable type, and then there are those who crack you up, no matter how wrong or off base they are. My grandma was definitely the latter. Growing up she would always speak her mind, usually resulting in family DRAMA, or hilarity. For example, my one half-brother lived at her old house in the attic and she HATED him. During on of the 1980s playoff games between the Browns and Broncos, my half-brother was going to take a bath and grandma said to him, “Get out of here you freeloading bastard.” This of course prompted my old man to get up and start screaming “CRAZY HOUSE! CRAZY HOUSE! WE LIVE IN A … CRAZY HOUSE!!! CRAZY HOUSE!!!” He then smacked the wall a few times, ran around the room and went into a nearby room. While most people might freak out upon witnessing this display of unadulterated rage, as a kid I found the whole thing funny as hell. Heck, I'm an adult and still laugh at this dysfunction. And grandma sure was a racist. I can’t count the number of times she referred to said half-brother’s longtime girlfriend as a “mixed breed.” Those were the days. She would also smack me with a fly swatter, but it was all out of love. She got moved into a home sometime in the early ‘90s, against her will, and stuck around ever since. I remember her bitching about this for years until she got too senile to remember where she was. At least she’ll have a legacy of what a brilliant “baby” grandson she helped nurture during his formative years and turned into the fine, upstanding gentleman he is today.
Uh, on second thought…
9:30 p.m.
• How about worrying about the Mexicans crossing your border before saying stupid shit like this? Christ, and I thought Richardson had half-a-brain after becoming governor of New Mexico.
"Recent successes"? Yeah, it'll be a "success" until we catch them fiddling with nuke stuff ... again.
9:15 p.m.
• The hell?
Have I mentioned lately how much Whoria Alldread needs to die -- and die soon?
• I'm not even going to bother posting parts of this retarded story. The headline says it all: Lying to Doctor Can Mean Health Risks
Well no fucking shit. And this article is more than 900 words! Do we really need to be told how lying to your doctor might not be in your best interest. Hell, if you're going to fib about your health, then why are you at the doctor's office in the first place? Well, you could be trying to get drugs, but aside from that.
• The U. of Ill. should name their next mascot "Chief Dickless." Wait, that's offense to Indians who had mishaps with a large piece of machinery.
7:30 p.m.
• Well, that chick lost after not being able to rap a nursery rhyme. Ha. Next week's show has these crackas going to Detroit to do battle raps, or whatever the hell those kids did in that "8 Mile" movie. That might actually be worth watching. Then again, knowing one of these people is going to win a lot of money has me depressed. I've got Derelicts of Dialect on now. Weird.
4:15 p.m.
• LOL -- so I just watched another episode of that White Rapper show, and it had the fat chick having to go to the emergency room after flopping at the THUG OBSTACLE COURSE. Oh she better not win this contest. Oh this is so awful.
8:30 p.m.
• So yesterday I did a bunch of yardwork. Well, maybe not as much as a Mexican is capable of doing, but whatever. Even though I got slightly singed from Mr. Sun, I thought I came out of it all in reasonably good condition. But then I forgot about the ever-dreaded day after. Holy fuck. Every part of my body aches and I feel like total shit. Wow I really must be getting old. Back in my day I was able to do an afternoon’s worth of manual labor and … well, I still felt like this the day after, even during my teen years. Guess I’ve been a lazy bastard all along. Then again, perhaps us crackers aren’t meant for this kind of rough-and-tumble treatment, or at least white people living within their means. Perhaps Racist Dusty was right all along.
• With baseball season recently under way, I’ve been feeling the urge to play MVP ’05 once again. Funny thing is I’m only into mid-May in Year 1 of my franchise mode. Why haven’t I gotten all that far in my 120-year dynasty? Because I’m a sap and I like playing all my minor-league teams. I don’t know why – it’s just more enjoyable to split time with the Lynchburg Hillcats, Altoona Curve, Indianapolis Indians and Pirates. In fact, many times I have more fun playing the minor-league teams. Take yesterday for example. While playing my Single-A Hillcats, who were in the midst of a four-game losing streak, against some team I’ve never heard of before. I was down by a score of 4-1 in the bottom of the ninth. I’ve managed to get on base several times, but I wasn’t able to cash in any of the runners. Then with two outs my star player hit a three-run homer to send the game into extra innings. In the bottom of the 10th I ended it with a walk-off bomb from my centerfielder – his first of the year. Fun times.
• Now the obvious punchline to this one is “Who can miss yours, Rosie?” but you people have come to expect more from me.
I’m sure Rosie can use her “fair share” by issuing some “TP Credits” that will limit the wiping materials of others willing to make the sacrifice for a cleaner Mother Earth.
• Awwwww.
Boo-Hoo.
I got an idea. Put someone under with anesthesia, stick a gun in their mouth and pull the trigger.
• Wait, wha-?
Follow-up tests on a backup urine sample? Just how many times do these people have to pee in a cup?
• More than 92,000 show up to watch a spring football game?
Seriously, it’s time to get a professional team down there. Or some hobbies.
3 p.m.
• I always hear you liberals bitch about us evil right-wingers wanting to be all up in your business when it comes to you your bedroom activity. OK then. I’ll stay out of your bedroom, but get the hell away from my bathroom.
It’s bad enough you bitches leave us stuck with those gaywad enviro-friendly toilets, which require you to flush three times as many times in order to get a “deposit” certified as it would if I was using a manly shitter. You know, the kind that gives your privates a refreshing breeze afterward because of its sheer power. Then again, if you commies ever get some sort of toilet paper rationing legislation signed into law, I’ll be more than happy to wipe my browneye with your CD covers.
KKK's Top 103 Posters
Number 28: Gert T
Along with being kkk Bowl I champ, Gert T shares a common bond with me and hawk34/choken/whoever. Whenever I speak of my time in Middletown, Ohio, he actually knows what I’m talking about. This is not a good thing. Then again, there’s something special about many of the experiences I had in this little southwestern Ohio city, such as this one.
It was an early summer evening and I had some of my cats out on their leashes exploring the front yard. Yes, they had leashes (I still have them, although they haven’t been used in years). Anyway, this black lady is walking down the street and the following conversation takes place.
Her: “You got any cigarettes?”
Me: “No.”
Her: “You got any alcohol?”
Me: “No.”
Her: “You got any weed?”
Me: “No.”
Her: “You no fun.”
Me: *Reels in cats before she tries to sell them for crack.*
She walked down the block and stopped to talk to these two black guys who pulled up next to her in their hooptie. Oh Middletown. What was I talking about again?
3 p.m.
• OK, so I work on the first floor of a three-floor building. A while back the owners of this building (their business is on the second floor) decided to remodel the first-floor bathrooms. It was ladies first, and for several weeks (Or was it more than a month? Who knows, who cares.) all the bitches on my floor had to walk up a floor in order to pinch a load. Trust me, if I were a chick I’d rather walk up and down a flight of stairs to pee than do my business in this men’s room. I always hold my breath when going in this room to pee due to the funk some of my floormates emanate while reading the newspaper when on the shitter. Well, now it’s the guy’s turn to be without a floor potty. Now I’m a man of rules. I recently scolded LessoninMachismo via PM for breaking the express lane’s 20 items or less code of conduct. I punch myself in the shoulder when I forget to put on my turn signal when changing lanes on a somewhat busy multi-lane road. But so far this week I’ve crept into the ladies room in the early morning whenever I have to go number one after drinking my two daily 8 oz. morning beverage – the two women on this floor don’t get in into after 8 a.m., and my early morning urination takes place well over an hour before any of them arrive. Out of consideration, I’ll sit down to do my business because a man’s penis is like a leaky fire hose. God only knows where the pee will fly once it makes its way out. That's why I like urinals. It's like going against a wall. If there's some side squirting, then chances are the porcelain wall will be able to catch it the wayward pee. Anyway, the last few mornings when I’ve snuck in the women's room I have seen that the toilet bowls had urine caked on them. This means one of two things: 1) the two chicks that use this bathroom have some squirting issues, or 2) the other guys who are too lazy to walk up a set of stairs to urinate spray and don’t clean up. Come on guys, if you’re going to use the ladies room, at least show some considerations for those that have no chance but to squat. And who says I’m not looking out for the ladies? Oh, and this crusty waste also means that this building's cleaning staff does jack shit, but I could have told you that already.
12:15 p.m.
• My workplace DSL is being moody today, so at around 11 a.m. I decided to give Dennis Miller's new radio show a listen instead of my usual morning program. Not bad. Not great. But not bad. This will definitely be playing (for as long as it's on the air) as a second option for my RIGHT-WING RADIO late-morning/early afternoon listening pleasure. I can't remember the last time I listened to Glenn Beck -- please note I'm not complaining about this.
8:15 a.m.
• This got a laugh out of me a few days ago. From Boortz's Web site
10:45 p.m.
• So I was feeling a bit down today. I’m not depressed, but the last few days I haven’t been getting much sleep and I’ve been feeling it. So where do I go when I need a quick pick-me-up by observing the underclass in all their glory?
That’s right.
Now there’s this one Wal-Mart that opened up a year or so ago about 15 minutes from me. However, it hasn’t quite been overrun with the typical white and ghetto trash that flock to this cornucopia of commerce. Now the Wal-Mart that’s closer to Shittsburgh and attracts a lot of black people? That’s another story.
I was walking around the store and was on my way out when I noticed this kid – couldn’t be older than 10 or so – in tears and near a full-blown breakdown. Nothing surprising there. This is Wal-Mart. However, I then soon realized that the man in this group was an employee (the lack of a blue vest threw me off) and it seemed that the talk was focused on something that this kid tried to steal.
Uh oh.
The woman in this group was PISSED. I’m not sure if this was the kid’s mother – she could have been a babysitter or counselor – but one thing was for certain: this kid was about to have a really bad day. All I could gather from the passing words I heard was that the woman wanted this kid, dressed in a Silver Surfer t-shirt and blue sweatpants, to get punished to the fullest extent of the law. Oddly enough, the employee just took the item back and that was that. Interesting. Believe me, this woman was not trying to get this kid out of trouble. As they were walking out of the store I followed close behind hoping this woman would unload on this low-grade thief. Sadly, nothing transpired. But you know the most amazing thing of all.
This woman had three children with her – and the lone white kid was the one busted for shoplifting. Then again, I’m sure the two black kids are more seasoned at this sort of thing.
11:30 p.m.
• Oh please Democrats keep this primary fight going. It's funny enough there's talk about disenfranchising voters in Michigan and Florida, but then we get this.
Man, if this is what Osama's Democrat critics are getting hit with, imagine what will become of Republicans when they start questioning the Junior senator from Illinois.
9 p.m.
• So it’s official. My boss hates me. Why? Because for an upcoming business trip later this month she booked our flights. Guess where our connecting flight from Shittsburgh will be located?
Newark, New Jersey.
Guess where the connecting flight back home to Shittsburgh will be located?
Detroit.
I don’t think I’ll be leaving either plane.
• The better half’s test-tube kid-having welfare collecting cousin and her sterile Mexican husband 30 years her senior (Or is it junior? Either way, the guy’s about twice her age.) sent her one of those stupid chain e-mails where you answer a bunch of general questions. Under the question of “What’s the one thing you worry about most,” the test-tube matriarch typed, “Our house’s adjustable mortgage.”
Why am I not surprised.
• Damn.
Here's what I don't get.
Why bother with "other interests?" If you own a decent portion of the Steelers, that's just as good as having a winning lottery ticket.
10:30 a.m.
• So peep the opening paragraph to this article about how car leasing may be a thing of the past.
A PRICEY NEW CAR out of reach for SOME PEOPLE? Hmmm, let’s see, a big-ticket item is too costly for some people but there’s a way for said laymen to acquire the product, which they really can’t afford. Sound familiar? What industry does this sound like whose bubble recently burst?
And since when did a "pricey new car" become a "key part of the American dream"? God I'm so out of touch.
• Well today a bunch of illegal immigrants are supposed to show us what it would be like without their presence. Like I've said before, don't pick your lettuce, but only if you also don't show up at our emergency rooms or schools. Also it would be greatly appreciated if you didn't receive any public assistance from our country's numerous free-money centers. If these people are going to go south of the border, if only for a day, then I'll feel a lot safer should I get blindsided by a motorist today. Not only will I be able to understand the words coming out of this person's mouth, but also there's a greater chance that driver will have insurance.
• The NFL Draft has passed, and I forgot to talk about my all-time favorite moment, which was when Emily Manning threw his little shitfit and pouted like a bitch when the San Diego Chargers drafted him with the first overall pick a few years ago. I don't know what was better -- hearing the boos he got from the crowd, seeing Emily barely latch onto that #1 Chargers jersey, or listening to Chris Berman trying to spin the whole situation, "See, he's even holding up that jersey; what a great sport!" All of this only led up to the best part of the draft, hands down, when it was announced Emily was traded to New York and then to hear the NYC crowd react when the commish began reading off everything the Giants gave up.
• Speaking of drafts, I figure this might be a good time to reflect on the time I attended a professional sports draft. No, I didn't drive up to New York City and wear some stupid green hard hat with an airplane on it. My one friend, who was a partial season ticket holder to Penguin games, gave me her pair of tickets to the 1997 NHL draft that took place in Shittsburgh because she was going to be out of town that week. The funny thing is I knew none of the athletes being drafted at this event. Joe Thornton was the top pick that year, but I don't know (or pronounce the names of) anyone else that got picked this day, although Sergei Samsonov is ringing a bell for some reason. Anyway, my friend that I brought with the other ticket and I just sat and watched these names being called and cheered when the Pens made their selections. One highlight from this day came when the crowd who attended this event booed every time the Rangers made a pick. In addition, I think some kid who played goalie for a nearby college or minor-league team got drafted. Even though the day was fairly uneventful, it wasn't a total waste of a day. After all, it's not every day you get all the teams of a sports league get together and prepare for their futures right before your eyes.
• I heard over the weekend that Shittsburgh has a National Woman's Professional Football team called the "Passion." Oh well, seeing how this team has survived three seasons already, I guess you go, girls. This team can't be any worse than the USFL's Maulers from back in the day.
6 p.m.
• 14-10 Pirates. I was right (see 1:30 p.m. entry).
• You may have already
already, but I don't care. I saw it for the first time today.
1:30 p.m.
• So I was flipping in-between the Braves and Reds games this afternoon, and just watched the unfortunate Reds pitcher give up 5 in the first to the Pirates and left the game with runners on first and second base with still NOBODY out. Ouch. Speaking of baseball, my MVP franchise is somewhere in mid-May, and when I played my A and MLB games this past week (both were on the same “day,” according to the calendar) I hit a grand slam in each contest. Never hit one before in any league, so to do so twice was weird. I hear cheering. Guess the Reds got someone out. I just heard Zach Duke is pitching for Shittsburgh. Cincinnati’s still in this one.
8 a.m.
• Uh, checkmate?
But that bad joke isn't the reason I posted this story.
"Tortuing them to death"? Oh boo-hoo you fucking commie.
Perhaps if the condemned wasn't a drug user, then the State could find a worthwhile vein to penetrate. Like I said before, I’m not always a fan of capital punishment, but that’s not because I feel bad for blacks/Latinos/the poor/etc. being given the needle. You can’t take back an completed death penalty. All it takes is one lying witness or DNA test to set someone convicted free. However, if you are filmed robbing a store and shooting the clerk, seen on camera trying to end the life of a police officer that pulled you over for a busted taillight, then you die. No questions asked. No 20,000 appeals. No cell with Internet access. No trying to figure out why you did what you did. You die.
Oh yeah, back to solving the crisis of torturing prisoners to death. You don’t have to spend 20 minutes finding a vein when you put a gun in a person’s mouth.
8:15 p.m.
• Now this is odd. The much-talked about welfare brood from the better half’s family called us the other day. Well, I should say they called Mrs. kkk. And the matriarch of the clan asked Mrs. kkk who she was voting for in November. When the better half said “McCain” they asked if I, too, was voting for the honorable senator from Arizona. When Mrs. kkk replied “yes he is,” the toothless Mexican said, “you’re good.”
...
THESE PEOPLE VOTE REPUBICAN – WTF?!
Maybe I need to pay a visit to Camp Ron Paul. And here I thought our house would be crossing out their house’s vote.
Then again, Maybe they’re in the right party.
While that was my “wtf” moment of the week, my “you got to be fucking kidding me” moment came when I found out that my crack-whore niece-in-law was talking politics with the better half. She began saying how YOU KNOW WHAT OSAMA STANDS FOR and that he cares about poor people. Oh Jesus fucking Christ. The mere fact she is talking about voting makes me want to make it required that all voters must own property – much like is was back in the day. I told Mrs. kkk I’d break her kneecaps if she drove the niece to get registered. Did I say “break her kneecaps”? I mean, “be really really sad.” And to add insult to injury the niece didn’t realize that once she moved a year or so ago she had to re-register. Thanks to Mrs. kkk and her big mouth the niece now knows she would have been DISENFRANCHISED.
Here was my “And to think these people have the same voting rights I do” moment. I was flipping channels today and came across some Headline News segment with some guy talking to a group of first-time voters. All I can say is whenever we talk with a fuckball like the President of Iran, and he proceeds to send a nuke over, just make sure you blow up San Francisco.
Well today I get to become disenfranchised because it’s primary season in Pennsylvania. A while back the state got rid of its outdated, RACIST voting machines in favor of high-tech video screens that aren’t quite ready for use yet. Oh, this should be fun. I voted in two separate precincts during my stays in Pennsylvania and each time I used the lever machines. They were nice and efficient. You walk into the booth and pull the big handle. This makes the curtains close behind you and enables you to work the rest of the levers. For every candidate you support you push their little lever. If you, say, voted for Bush but wanted to change your vote to Kerry, you had to reset Bush’s lever before yanking on America’s Vietnam War Hero. When you were done with all your voting, you pulled the big lever again to register all your selections. Simple enough. Now I get to stand next to some machine that will probably remind me of when I took my driving license test, and if something doesn’t look right I get to have the 90-year olds who are manning the polls provide tech support. Hell, I might pretend to be confused just to see grandma get up and try to reboot the system or thumb through the machine’s how-to guide (along with bitching about how small the type is in the booklet).
There’s really no reason for me to vote in the primaries this year. My State Representative is a Democrat, so I can’t vote against him as an act of protest for the whole pay-raise debacle that took place last year. Even though my Rep didn’t vote for the pay hike, and I’ve voted for this Dem in a previous election, I’m considering voting for whoever runs against him in the general election just to say, “Fuck you bitches – vote yourself a pay raise and I’ll vote for whoever is running against the incumbent.” Around these parts, some people call this “voting for the gorilla.” Anyway, I figure this will be a nice tune-up for the general election that’s going to come in about six months. I’ll find out how to vote for Rick Santorum, who is probably running unopposed, or against a bunch of wackos I’ve never heard of before, and pray that the normally stupid constituents that make up a large portion of the Democrat Party think they're voting for Bob Casey Jr. when in fact they're endorsing Pat Buchanan come November.
Speaking of voting against incumbents who endorsed giving themselves a raise, there's a bitch in Beaver County named Mike Veon who not only voted for our state's most recent pay increase, but also defended his actions. Well, he defended it as much as one can without going to the media and explain himself. The funny thing is he's up against some nobody with a shoestring budget and the polls, last time I checked, indicate a close race. Veon, who long has been a popular Democrat Representative in a heavily Democrat area, is advertising on television, which tells me he's sweating a bit. And just to show that I’m not being partisan on this issue, I’m hoping for a few bitch-ass Republicans to bit the bullet in the primary season as well, especially since both branches of Congress in Pennsylvania are “controlled” by Republicans (although it’s hard to tell considering they bend over every time Governor Ed Rendell unzips his pants.
KKK's Top 103 Posters
Number 96: Chave
I really don't have much to say about Chave. This is one of those cases where I know the poster has been around TSM for a while, but we don't interact that much. I'm entertained by a lot of what he does and plus he organizes that TSM Poster Tournament every year, which I know has to be a hefty undertaking on his part. And even though we here at TSM are all way too cool for such a stupid, petty popularity contest like this you have to admit it's entertaining, even though I have never won, which tells me the whole thing is rigged more than Bush's first Presidential election OMG SELECTED NOT ELECTED LOL2000! Plus he has nice teeth, and for someone who lives across the Pond from me, that says a lot.
And now a word or two from the expert panel I have put together to comment on the people I’ve listed. If you would like to be part of this expert panel (and you know you do), drop me a PM.
From Carnival:
From King of the 909:
• I have always tried to keep money matters separate from my relationships. This is why whenever the better half and I started living in sin we had a formula for paying the bills. She would add up all the utilities and rent/mortgage and give me a monthly total. I would then divide that number in half and deduct grocery costs, which I paid for, from the tab and give her the adjusted amount. This system seemed to work fairly well, or so I thought. A few days ago, Mrs. kkk finally came clean and said that the amount of credit card debt she has accumulated over the years was too much for her to bear anymore. Now I constantly joke about what a cheap bastard I am, but there’s a reason for this. Unlike the better half (and our Congressional leaders), I don’t like the idea of racking up debt. Whenever my credit card bills come in, they get paid in full a day or so later. There have only been two instances when I had finance charges apply to me. The first was back in 2002 when the better half’s car needed some work done and neither she nor I had the money right away to pay for it all. The seasonal job I was working at the time was just getting started up again, and I needed a month or so before I could pay off the car repair's entire amount. My total finance charge for this purchase? Less than $2. The second time I paid finance chargers was after my wedding last year. The arrangement was that I would pay for the reception and Mrs. kkk would pay for everything else. Of course, I ended up paying for a few other things as well, and this running tab eventually had the better half owing me more than $2,000 for her share of the wedding bills. Sadly, I knew this was going to happen, and so for about three months I had to look in horror as I had to pay finance charges while I wiped out her share of the the reception bill from my Discover card.
Fast forward to the present. Earlier this week, after being told of her inability to manage money, I took a gander at some of her unpaid debts and, well, here are the highlights [Please note that for all these things I gave her my half of the costs when the bill first arrived for each purchase.]: 1) A bill for a bed purchased at least five years ago. With all the interest she paid on this we could have purchased a new bed by now. 2) A bill for the carpeting that was installed in our house in July of 2004. 3) A bill for vet care for our cat that died in November of 2004.
And then there was the crème de la crème. A $10,400 bill that she hadn’t paid in three billing cycles. The total amount of all these bills is over $20,000 (and let’s not even talk about school loans). After looking at all of this, I crunched some numbers and did a balance transfer on the $10k bill. Now a lot of the smaller credit card bills I can probably churn out in a month or so, thanks to the money I have been saving up to pay off the rest of my school loan. And thanks to the balance transfer, there won’t be any finance charges on the largest bill until April of 2007. By that time all the other bills would have been paid off, and I’m hoping that a good chunk of this debt would have been erased. We still have to make monthly payments on this bill, but the good thing is that instead of the money going toward finance charges it will go toward the principal. (Or is it “principle”? Either way, you get the idea.)
I think what really aggravates me about all of this is that she has a pretty good paying job and will be going toward an even better paying one in a few months. And all that money is being flushed down a really big toilet. Whenever this debt gets erased, I’m still going to be taking charge of what she does with her money. It’s sad, because I really hate doing this, but we has finally come to the realization that her + credit cards = disaster. Actually, I've known of this equation for some time, and now she has, too.
I generally send any FWD’s that end up in my mailbox straight to the trash. However, whenever there’s some stupid test/survey/etc. I sometimes complete it just for shits and giggles. This one showed up in my inbox today.
Yay. Without further ado, here we go.
1. When do you feel your best?
a) in the morning
b) during the afternoon and early evening
c) late at night
Well, I used to be a night owl during my college days, but now that I wake up at 5 a.m. I must say that the early evening is when I shine.
You usually walk…
a) fairly fast, with long steps
b) fairly fast, with little steps
c) less fast head up, looking the world in the face
d) less fast, head down
e) very slowly
I’m six-foot so I have to go with long steps. I also generally walk faster than most.
3. When talking to people you…
a) stand with your arms folded
b) have your hands clasped
c) have one or both your hands on your hips
d) touch or push the person to whom you are talking
e) play with your ear, touch your chin, or smooth your hair
Now that I think about it, I have to say that for some reason I tend to touch/rub my chin a lot.
4. When relaxing, you sit with…
a) your knees bent with your legs neatly side by side
b) your legs crossed
c) your legs stretched out or straight
d) one leg curled under you
I sometimes do the one leg curled thing if I’m fiddling with the home computer, but generally my legs are stretched out.
5. When something really amuses you, you react with...
a) big appreciated laugh
b) a laugh, but not a loud one
c) a quiet chuckle
d) a sheepish smile
Chuckle, mostly because something has to be really funny to get a laugh out of me. What is it that makes me laugh? Well, there's the handicapped...
6. When you go to a party or social gathering you…
a) make a loud entrance so everyone notices you
b) make a quiet entrance, looking around for someone you know
c) make the quietest entrance, trying to stay unnoticed
I’m so a “look around and cling to a familiar face” person at these kind of events.
7. You're working very hard, concentrating hard, and you're interrupted...
a) welcome the break
b) feel extremely irritated
c) vary between these two extremes
Due to the limited choices I have to say it varies. I normally don’t mind, but I don’t “welcome” the interruption. One of my philosophies is try not to get annoyed at these instances because one day I’ll be the interrupter and wouldn’t want someone to get pissy over me asking them a quick question about something or other.
8. Which of the following colors do you like most?
a) Red or orange
b) Black
c) yellow or light blue
d) green
e) dark blue or purple
f) white
g) brown or gray
When I was a kid, it was red. As I got older it was dark blue. Now it’s black. I don’t know why.
9. When you are in bed at night, in those last few moments before going to sleep you are...
a) stretched out on your back
b) stretched out face down on your stomach
c) on your side, slightly curled
d) with your head on one arm
e) with your head under the covers
This is a routine I do often. I start out stretched on my back. I then do the head on one arm until the only thing on me that falls asleep is that particular limb. I then stretch out face down on my stomach before finally ending up on my left side, slightly curled.
10. You often dream that you are...
a) falling
b) fighting or struggling
c) searching for something or somebody
d) flying or floating
e) you usually have dreamless sleep
f) your dreams are always pleasant
Other than that “Grudge” incident, I can’t recall a dream I’ve had in at least the past six months.
Well, that was it. After adding up the points each of my specific answers had, I was placed in the following category.
Well, this just proves something I’ve known for quite some time.
Dr. Phil is an idiot.
9:30 p.m.
• The better half and I have this ongoing joke where I call her a “ho.” (Don’t ask. It’s a LONG story.) Well, like many things, this joke has morphed over time. One of these changes came when I finally got her to watch Season 1 of “The Shield.” There is this storyline that carried for an episode or two where officers Dani and Gay Julian dealt with this love triangle: one fat white woman and two black guys. Basically, this chick was banging one guy then the next, and every time the officers went to that address for some domestic disturbance call, the gal was with a different guy. One time the cops were called out there because one of the guys spray-painted “ho” on the woman’s front door. But on the next call out there, when the guy who spray-painted “ho” suddenly became that woman’s squeeze for the day, in response to his earlier graffiti he spray-pained “s” and “e” to transform that derogatory term from “ho” to “shoe.” When Mrs. kkk saw this “shoe” scene, she bust out laughing, so now instead of calling her “ho,” in many instances I call her “shoe.” It’s all love talk. Anyway, today we went to a local Chinese buffet due to both of us having crazy days at work. While we were there, this family came in and was celebrating the birthday of one of their daughters. We knew this because the girl was wearing a paper crown on her head. On the crown it said, “Happy Birthday Mary” and below that it said, “little shoe.” We both laughed.
Oh, and that “Shield” storyline ended with one of the guys killing the other guy and chick … with a GUN!
• An organized crime chief can't afford to pay for car upkeep? Japan's economy must really suck.
Gee, I wonder how that bit got into the article? I liked the last part of the article.
So I guess Japan now needs to ban swords, knives, matches and gasoline in order for its citizens to feel really safe.
• Not only was Jersey’s governor not wearing a seatbelt in his recent accident, but also his SUV was going 91 mph. That’s funny.
I wonder if the law will treat Corzine the same way as it would a regular person who got into an accident going more than 30 mph over the speed limit and not wearing a seat belt?
• How about calling on distressed borrowers to not buy houses when they clearly can’t afford to make such an investment?
Oh, yeah. Because that would be mean.
8:45 p.m.
• Speaking of road rage (see 4 p.m. entry), I forgot about this little gem of a story from last week. As I was driving on the Parkway West this guy in some silver car was tailgating me. Seeing how I was in the right lane and going 10 mph over the speed limit, I did what I always do in this situation. I put on the brakes. Once we went through these nearby tunnels, this guy decided to pass me, and pass me he did. He passed me so fast you could hear the “vroom vroom” as he began his passage. Boy did he sure pass me. However, the red pickup truck in front of me wasn’t aware of the other guy’s passing, and when the red truck decided to go into the lane the “vroom” guy was passing me up on, a whole bunch of hilarity ensued. They were literally inches away from getting into a rather serious accident. I would have loved to have been a witness at this accident. “Yes, officer, I saw it all. The guy in the gray car was gong well over the speed limit to pass me up almost ran into the driver in the red truck who didn’t put on his turn signal as he switched lanes.”
• So rooting against Barry Bonds is RACIST? Only from an ESPN poll.
Do I hate Barry Bonds? You bet. Did he use roids? Probably. Do I care? Absolutely not. My favorite part of this whole story is Hank Aaron not caring one bit about Bonds’ homer chase. I’m sure the same black people who don’t believe Bonds took roids are probably the same ones who think the LAPD set up O.J. Simpson when his ex-wife died at the hands of some Puerto Rican guy.
4 p.m.
• Well this was interesting. I was driving home from work this afternoon when I encountered an … interesting road rage moment. In order to get onto the Parkway West inbound – the first leg of my weekday journey home – I have to first merge onto this stretch of interstate. Now my rule on letting people merge into my lane may seem cruel, but it’s for the greater good. If there is no room for you to merge, you wait until there’s an opening. I’m not slowing down at risk of getting rear-ended by someone going twice the speed limit just so you can shave 30 seconds off your commute. “But kkk,” you may ask, “you just said you were waiting to merge, not the other way around.” True. And I try to practice what I preach. If there is no opening for me, I’ll wait. As I was waiting an opening presented itself, which I began to speed up for. However, at that time an aqua sports car zoomed out of one lane into the lane I was about to get into. No problem, I thought, I’ll just go in my merging lane and wait for this idiot to pass me, at which time I’ll get on the interstate behind him. I did this. This person got to continue driving way over the 55 mph speed limit, I got to safely merge onto the parkway, and I didn’t get to cause any OUTRAGE with someone who would have claimed I had cut her off. Fine and dandy for all.
Or so I thought.
As the bitch passed me and I got in the lane right behind her, she flipped me off. Wha-wha-what? Now normally this is the time where I fight back, but I let this one slide. I must have let this go because of the weather. Clear skies, no humidity, plenty of sun. Oh if it could only be like this all the time.
7 p.m.
• Damn Bush economy. Now people that didn't pay for their houses are losing them. How bad can this get?
What's this?
You know, say what you want about Jimmy Carter (Lord knows I have), but at least Habitat for Humanity makes its housing recipients work on a few homes before getting one built for them.
8:30 p.m.
• Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday crack-in-Shittsburgh. Happy birthday to you.
KKK’s Top 103 Posters
Number 75: Jingus
I didn’t interact much with Jingus until the great "MikeSC Banning (again)," when he said, much to my agreement, “This is bullshit ... Too many posters have been banned who in my opinion either didn't call for it or who deserve a second chance.” So Jingus, along with a few other people, formed another message board, which a few of us still post at. I’ve spoken with him a couple of times since then, and he seems like an OK-enough person. He pops in from time to time; apparently he’s into the wrestling business (albeit on a scale considerably smaller than the WWE) and performs in some shows. If that’s what he wants to do then I say more power to him.
And now a word or three from the expert panel I have put together to comment on the people I’ve listed.
From SFA Jack:
From EricMM:
From Cancer Marney:
• More fun times at the workplace. Remember a few days ago when I talked about those hippie inserts I made that my idiot boss ordered some stupid last-minute changes to, effectively halting the process of sending out thousands of quarterly statements? Well, last Wednesday I took the day off. Thursday I came into the office and said “what up” to our Marketing Director/Head Salesman. Now whenever I take a workday off I usually ask him the next day if anything exciting happened, and nine times out of ten the answer is “no.” This was that one in ten instance. A few months ago many of our investment options had their interest rates increased. The problem was that these rates weren’t updated on any of the quarterly statements that went out to our customers, and he had fielded calls all day from people who just received their statements that had the incorrect interest rate printed. And just to make things funnier, the correct rates were on that insert I created, so while that insert had the higher rates printed the actual statement, which shows account information among other things, had the lower rate. Awesome. And it’s only going to get worse when customers in neighboring states start receiving their statements. And guess whose fault it was for the incorrect rates? Yep. The same person who spent days pondering what font size he wanted the insert I made to be changed over to.
• For those that think Americans who vote against gay-marriage initiatives are extremist hate-mongers, go to India where it has been illegal for 145 years for one guy to bone another guy. My question is if this “crime” is punishable with up to 10 years of prison time, wouldn’t the promise of spending a decade in the penal system be an incentive for some gay men to come out of the closet?
9 p.m.
• Well, here comes the invasion.
Oh who the hell am I kidding? They are already here. And these next two sentences from this next snippet make me feel soooo much better.
I expect Democrats to endorse this attack on America, but any Republican which agrees to this deserves to be booted out of office. (And don't even get me started on W.) I wonder what party these Mexicans will register with? Bye-bye, GOP. Then again, I shouldn't be so doom-and-gloom. You think any illegal is going to agree to this?
6 p.m.
• Looks like the Titans are interested in Keyshawn Johnson.
Good for him. Part of me felt bad for him when his replacement was drafted (I have no idea what his name is at this moment) and he had to sit there and go, “Boy I can’t wait to mentor this guy.” I wonder if he knew his Carolina stint was at an end there and was just playing for the camera?
1:30 p.m.
• One of the biggest stories of the NBA Playoffs, besides the Mavs losing in the first round, involves the recent pesudo beanch clearing that took place in Game 4 of the Suns/Spurs series. For those that don't know what happened, here you go:
The Spurs won Game 5 and are now up 3-2 in the series. I've heard several sports people comment on this, and from all perspectives.
"Rules are rules."
"Spurs play dirty. If Bruce Bowen would have been suspended for trying to hurt Stoudemire the Suns wouldn't have been on edge like they were."
I think I'm falling in the "If you don't change the rule, then you must enforce it" group. Over the last decade or so, the NBA has had to deal with bench-clearing fights, and I guess this rule of not leaving the bench is supposed to fight against this. However, when your team's franchise player is rammed into the scorer's table, I would certainly hope his teammates would respond by heading over there rather than just sitting there going, "Ohhh, look at all the pretty lights." It seems like this rule should be subject to interpretation, but from what I read it's not. So oh well. Maybe if Stoudemire hated Nash he wouldn't have cared that he got assaulted. Damn you for giving a shit about your teammates. I am hoping Phoenix wins the next two games, though.
7 a.m.
• So I was watching the TNT halftime show between the Cavs and Nets, and Ernie Johnson's family was in the studio. I guess his son has some sort of condition due to the fact he was wheelchair-bound and all that. No, I'm not going to crack on his kid or make some retard jokes. Instead, I LOL'd when Ernie said that his son's wheelchair was "tricked out" courtesy of some business/person whose name escapes me. Now that's one kick-ass dad...
...except for, of course, giving his son the retard gene.
And I was so close.
9 p.m.
• I’m smelling left-wing conspiracy here to take God out of our society.
• I don’t go to casinos, but are there such do-not-allow-me-in-the-building laws in the States? (This case was from across the Pond.)
• Arena football may be back in Shittsburgh, baby.
I remember years ago we had the Gladiators. Never went to a game. Never cared. I heard on the radio today they moved to Tampa. I did a quick Wikipedia and noticed the Gladiators lost Arena Bowls I and III, but have won five since moving to Flordia, including one right after setting up shop in Tampa.
This was funny.
Makes me wonder if the possibility of getting an Arena Football team would have been likely if there wasn’t going to be a new arena built. OMG THE ARENA WOULD HAVE BEEN JUST FOR THE PENGUINS!
8:45 p.m.
• Oh no another GOP defection~!
Whatever. He was never a Republican anyway – just some Dem who jumped over to avoid some commie-fest Democrat primary. I don’t care if he runs or not. I wouldn’t vote for the guy.
• R.I.P. Barker beauties.
I wonder how Rosie would react if some contestant in military uniform would get out of that first-round guess-the-closest-price stage and end up next to her. I'm also quite sure there won't be any little old ladies giving her pecks on the cheek. Then again, old people don't know where they are half the time anyway.
11 a.m.
• And who says crime doesn't reach our more rural regions? Oh Somerset County.
And now for the "meat" of the story.
But that's not all...
8:30 p.m.
• Get over it animal-rights people. It's domesticated. It's not a tiger. Don't try to rehab it into its "natural habitat." Just let it do its thing on someone's property that's willing to adopt the animal.
Wait a second, JAIL TIME? My crack-whore sister-in-law has done much worse in her life than take an antelope home with her and stays out of the big house. Hell, my brother-in-law one time told some cops looking for the crack-whore that he would take them to her apartment so they could haul her off in cuffs. No deal.
8:15 p.m.
• So I watched “Alien” for the first time in years. Was better the third time around but I still like the sequel better. Hudson is one of my favorite movie characters, and if I were ever to go out like he did I’d want to also be busting out curses with every other word. However, “Alien” still pisses me off in the scene when the black guy sacrifices his life while the chick just sits there and screams. Bitch, run.
• After “Alien,” I tuned into the hippie IFC channel and saw the Henry Rollins show. After hearing his guest, Gore Vidal, talk for 30 seconds about how Republicans stole the ’04 election in Ohio, I laughed and changed the channel.
• I’m getting a rise out of those “viva Viagra” ads, but it has nothing to do with my junk. Who comes up with these ideas?
• You know, there’s some things that I just don’t want to know about.
Well V-Day came and went, and I was rather impressed. Did the better half and I go out for a romantic dinner and a carriage ride? No. Did we go to where we got married and think back to that glorious day where we no longer lived in sin? Nope. Did we frolic in some hippie meadow barefoot? Not even close.
We didn’t do a goddamn thing. And I loved it.
About a week ago, Mrs. kkk told me she didn’t want to do anything for Valentine’s Day, and I reluctantly agreed. I was skeptical at first of her request; not because I’m a hopeless romantic, but rather because I got burned one time before on the “let’s not get each other anything for *insert holiday/birthday date here*.” A few years ago when we lived in Ohio and didn’t have any money for Christmas presents, she suggested that we not get each other anything. I agreed. Then, on the night before she was to drive out-of-state to her parents’ house, she gives me three gift-wrapped boxes and asked where hers were.
It’s funny. Back when I was a teen-ager and couldn’t get a date to save my life, I hated the whole Valentine’s Day concept. Look at all these happy couples enjoying each other’s company; fuck them. And this was in the days before Internet porn, so you can imagine how lonely those evenings alone would be. Now I can’t stand February 14 because the greeting card companies and other “date-related” industries want to make you feel like a shithead if you don’t buy your sweetheart flowers, candy, a ring, expensive panties, and about a dozen other things, all at retail price. Fuck that. True love isn’t two twenty-somethings gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes and holding hands. True love is being with the same person for years and putting up with all the bullshit they present you with. Not cheating on them or putting a slug in their head are also necessary requirements for this “true love” definition, although you can still think about pulling an O.J. across your better half's throat when you know she’s pissed and ask her “what’s wrong” and she replies “nothing” for the 100th fucking time.
Let’s see that on a Hallmark Card.
On another related subject, the better half has a few close friends, and it’s funny to hear them try to give her advice on our relationship. They don’t do it much anymore, considering we got MARRIED (and she’s the only one out of her gang to have the ring on her finger), but back in the day when we still lived in sin Mrs. kkk was constantly told that if I didn’t propose to her by a certain time she should leave me. Now why would anyone want to do a thing like that? I’m so dang adorable, especially when I’m standing next to her in a fast-food waiting line making fun of the idiot customer who’s complaining about his food being late. Well let’s see you old bastard, the store is offering a $1 Big Mac special, you think you’re the only one who ordered that deal? There’s this thing called a DRIVE-THRU you stupid shit, and considering the Big Mac requires two patties, you can only make half the amount of this sandwich than you can a regular hamburger. So shut the fuck up and wait that extra two minutes for your discounted burger, you old bastard.
Well that was off subject. Fuck it, I’m not editing that – I put too much effort into that last paragraph to just abort it.
Anyway, it was funny listening to the better half’s friends tell her how to run her life when these people can’t even run theirs. One has been engaged three times and is currently seeing this one guy with webbed feet who I hope knocks her up because he’s a real winner (one of the better stories about him is that he banged this chick’s cousin on her uncle’s office desk). There’s another friend who is having her second out-of-wedlock child with her second baby’s daddy. The first baby’s daddy is currently in jail for sticking up a bank. True story. This guy was the manager of a fast-food place (not the one I was at in the earlier paragraph) and went out on his morning break and held up a bank right at the time they were opening, which of course means there wasn’t much MONEY in the place. Well, after collecting whatever meager bounty he could, he DROVE BACK TO HIS JOB WITH THE GUN, MASK AND MONEY IN HIS TRUNK. When the cops came by a while later to have a look inside his car, he refused. The cops then got a warrant and searched it. Now this guy is about 2-3 years into serving a 10-year sentence. Sad thing is he only got 1-2 years for the actual robbery. Most of time was because he pointed a gun at someone. I guess the lesson here is when you rob a bank/store is to point the gun at the ceiling or floor.
And despite these people giving the better half advice on what to do with our 8+ year relationship, we have managed to stay together. Now that’s true love. And I still don’t need to buy some hippie card once a year on a made-up holiday.
In every family there is at least one sect that gives gifts that make you say “WTF?” And I don’t mean “WTF” in terms of fruitcake or some other equally lame gift. I know I’ve talked about Mrs. kkk’s side of the family on more than one occasion and discussed how some branches of her family tree are … unique. However, there is this couple that I legitimately can’t stand. I know I’ve mentioned them before, but for those who haven’t had the opportunity to learn about this happy family from Day 1, here’s a recap:
Mrs. kkk’s one cousin married some near-toothless Mexican who already has several kids from a previous marriage that he does shit with. Both were part-time janitors when they decided to have kids. There’s one problem: the Mexican is sterile, so they went to the clinic to knock the chick up via turkey baster. Please keep in mind that by now they have already claimed bankruptcy once and collect welfare, among other wonderful gimmies from the government. Because kid number one was such a joy, they decided to have another test-tube baby. Oh, and these welfare pros have purchased their own house and have a new car. All on a part-time janitor’s salary. Oh, and the wife works for the State as a “maid.” She gets paid to “clean up” half of her aunt’s house. What she actually does is sit down and watch TV all day. Why did I say “half of her aunt’s house”? Well because another relative is supposed to clean up the other half.
While I was over my old man’s house the day before Christmas, the better half went to her aunt’s house, where she ran into this happy family of four. What did they give Mrs. kkk for a Christmas gift? A picture of her car from when it was near-totaled a few years back from some bitch in a SUV plowing into her from behind. Oh, and we got the latest installment of this family’s “newsletter.” Every word/space/etc. has been faithfully restored, except for the text in bold. The names have been changed to protect the pathetic. Or am I just saying that and the names are indeed real? Either way, enjoy.
8:45 p.m.
• A while back I made a comment to SFA Jack in a PM about if I won the lotto/wasn’t married/etc. and got to move anywhere I wanted to I might go with Texas. It seems like a conservative enough state and it probably won’t get completely overrun with Mexicans until after I’m dead. However, after seeing an episode of “Cops” this evening, I think I might have to amend this statement. Travis County – lol. I may go with Georgia, but it'd have to be away from all the black people. And away from that humidity, too.
8:15 p.m.
• Well I had the interview today. Yay, I guess. If I was unemployed I’d probably be sleepless in anticipation of a call back, but I’m over all that shit. I had another, in my opinion, solid interview, where I responded to their questions way better than they did mine. All in all, this place seems like a nice place to work. Just the place for me to enter and queer it all up. Actually, it was funny because I got in early and saw the one chick escorting another candidate for this job out. He must have been the interviewee for that previous hour, and he was leaving at 50 past the hour. When arranging this interview, I was told to expect to be there an hour, so this kid was leaving with 10 minutes to spare. I knew this person wasn’t going to get the job over me. Christ, he didn’t even wear a jacket to the interview and looked like a goddamn slob. I came in, did my thing and left after 80 minutes. Hell, I’ve been on interviews that were supposed to last one hour and ended up being 3-4 hours and I still didn’t get called back, so I don’t normally go by “time spent.” Hell, there have been times when I knew I wasn’t getting the job, but I stayed and asked a buttload of questions just to piss off my interviewer. Hey, you want to waste my time, I’ll waste yours.
I should hear back from them next week if I’m getting called back. Will I get called back? Don’t know, don’t care. Like I said earlier, I’ve stopped caring about trying to figure out how I did at an interview. I’ll objectively judge my performance afterward and decide what I did good (did my best to keep in contact with all three interviewers in the room and answered all questions with thorough examples) and what needed improving (I caught myself slouching a few times). One thing that will probably go against me is being “overqualified,” which I find funny because I’ve been on interviews in year’s past when I’ve actually had people tell me all the duties that would be required of this position, and when I address each requirement point-by-point, it was then I got fed the over-qualified line. But it all works out in the end, and what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger. Either that, or sends you to the grave at an early age due to a heart attack.
• Que?
Elections? Now that's funny.
• Over the last few days I’ve been playing my Public Enemy collection, and I must say that for years I have always preferred “Fear of a Black Planet” over “It Takes a Nation of Millions.” However, I think that’s starting to change. I’ve been preferring the PE’s second album in recent listenings over their third effort, and I think it’s going to stay that way for a while – although I’ve always LOVED “Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos.” One of my favorite lines: “My plan said I had to get out and break north/Just like with Oliver’s neck/I had to get off.”
• Fuck these Jew bastards.
Here’s my Bally’s story. When I was 18 I signed up for some hippie plan, and the plan was like $30 per month for a few years, $20 per month for a few years and then $6 per month for LIFE. As the years went by I didn’t go to Bally’s as much due to my college/full-time job schedule and my gym wasn’t open during the times I wanted to work out. But I had the extra money to spend and I figured with that $6 per month for LIFE quickly approaching, what have I got do lose?
Apparently, I had $6 per month for LIFE to lose. Oh, did I say $6? I meant $20. The first month after I made my first $6 per month for LIFE payment, I was informed that they were jacking up my LIFETIME PAYMENTS to the level it had previously been at, which around $20, or something like that. Fuck you Bally’s, fuck you right in the ear. Speaking of gyms, I always found it funny that people who went there to get in shape would illegally park in fictional spots next to the gym because they were too lazy to park in the back of a full lot and spend a few minutes WALKING to the front door.
• Oh, here’s another PE line I love from “Rebel Without a Pause” that just got played: “From a rebel it’s final on black vinyl/Soul, rock and roll comin’ like a rhino.” And for those that wracked their brain over my question of where did the line, “Now Freeze … Music Please,” come from? “It’s My Thing,” from EPMD’s first album “Strictly Business.” However, I made two faux pas – the “hip-hop” beat I refer to comes after “Music Please,” not before, and the line goes "And then I yell freeze." Man, I bet this cost me some street cred. Whatever, my favorite track on "Strictly Business" has always been "Let the Funk Flow" anyway.
• For what seemed like an eternity, OnStar has been airing these commercials pimping their service. For those that don't know, OnStar is some hippie service in cars that lets you call an operator and have them help you out with anything from reporting an accident to unlocking car doors. Well, their radio commercials include real-life incidents showing us how valuable OnStar is. While some ads were downright stupid -- like the guy who locked his keys, and dog, in the car -- one particular commercial will always stick out in my mind. This kid in a heavy southern drawl calls in and goes, "Heeeeelp, my mamma's siiiick." The operator starts talking and the kid adds, "I'm five." Toward the end of the commercial the operator says something like, "Remember OnStar is always here for you," and the kid, not having any idea of what's going on, says "ok."
Another radio ad that is funny for all the wrong reasons are those stupid Ad Council public service announcements. Recently, I've been hearing this one that is even worse than usual. The ad starts with this guy and his young daughter in a car and the kid goes, "Daddy, are we there yet?" The father goes, "Almost. Grrr, there's a work zone ahead. Maybe I can pass these really slow cars." He then starts to burn rubber, and all of a sudden you hear a loud crash and the kid yelling, "Daddy!" There's another version of this ad featuring a soccer mom and her son, but the father/daughter one is much funnier.
• I finished watching all of Lost's season one episodes and decided to see what other people thought of the show in TSM's Lost thread. It's funny to read what people say right after an episode and then speculate on where some storylines might be headed. I'm not making fun of some of the incorrect predictions because that's the fun of watching a show when it first airs and then speculating on what the future holds. However, I'm much more content now with getting a season's worth of DVDs and watching them when I want to. All in all, not a bad show. It's not my favorite program or anything like that, but it was well worth the purchase. I think one thing I don't like about watching shows when they're being first-run is that you have to wait at least a week for the next show to be aired. Give me the episodes back-to-back and commercial free. I've noticed that when watching shows on DVD I tend to catch more subtle things that would get overlooked otherwise. A good example of this are with my Seinfeld DVDs; for example, in one of the earlier episodes Jerry is hitting on this chick and staked her out at her job (with George deciding he wants to be an architect). In a later episode, the same chick is with him on a "weekend retreat" that ruined the relationship. Had it not been for the DVD's and watching them in order, I would not have spotted this continuity.
When it comes to Lost's second season, I think I'll just wait until it comes out on DVD. That way, I won't have to fret when that show goes on a multi-week hiatus, leaving me to wonder who that wacky polar bear is going after, or whatever the hell is going on in Season 2. As for the first season, here is my opinion of the show's characters, for those that care. They are listed in the order of likeability. Oh, yeah. possible SPOILERS ahead:
Sawyer: You had me at "I never voted Democrat." Total asshole, and I love him.
Locke: I thought he'd be Chester the Molester at first, but I like his story and he plays backgammon.
Sayid: Out of everyone in that group, shouldn't he have known that convincing someone to blow themselves up, then telling them they can't, is one of the worst things you can do to a Muslim male?
Hugo: Dude, you have a lot of funny moments, but every time I see your sweat stains I gag when thinking about what your stench must be like.
Jack: Eh, I guess he has to be there and all, but I really don't care much about him.
Kate: She's like Jack to me, only with tits.
Jin: He's there. Nothing negative or positive to say.
Sun: See Jin.
Boon: Commie.
Mike: I don't hate him as much as I hate his kid. I do feel for him a bit though considering his baby's momma royally fucked him over in life.
Charlie: Got a few laughs from me, but he's starting to get old what with being p-whipped and all. He ought to go for a walk with Claire and the kid deep into the jungle.
Claire: I'm a fan of Aussie accents, especially when it's a woman's voice, but she got on my nerves at various times and I really don't care what happens to her.
Shannon: Die, bitch.
Walt: I don't care what happens to this brat.
• A few days ago I was ragging on Shittsburgh’s Port Authority because they were, once again, whining about how they would have to raise fares if they didn’t get more tax money to keep their inefficient public transportation system chugging along. In that same entry, I also goofed on how the Allegheny County Council wanted to pass a public smoking ban. Well, as I was driving through this pristine city on the way to pick up the better half from her job, I realized that I probably inhale more exhaust from these busses in a day than I inhale from second-hand smoke in a year. Should a tumor ever develop in my lung, I wonder if I could sue the Port Authority for having their pollution-spewing vehicles closer than 15 feet in front of me? (This proposed countywide smoking ban would prohibit anyone from smoking within 15 feet of businesses.) Hell, since these busses spit out more toxic emissions than my car, I feel they should have to be restricted to their very own road, and that road should also be an enclosed structure so those that choose to ride in these disgusting vehicles have to breathe in their own exhaust. Hey, it’s my right as a motorist not to inhale these toxic vapors; why should I have to end my life early because these lumbering contraptions freely pollute our publicly financed roads? But you know who are hardest hit by this pollution? The children. Well, maybe not mine since I don’t have any, but if I were to have a kkk Jr., he or she would be hardest hit for sure. Hey, if states can sue car manufactures for polluting the environment, why can’t I do the same to our local public officials?
• I don’t care if the way Australian scientists want to curb the growing Koala population is by planting a contraceptive between a female’s shoulder blades; I want to keep the image in my head of these scientists putting condoms on these cuddly bears. Why am I imaging this I have no idea, but it sure scares the hell out of me that I am doing so.
• Now the GOP is really on my shit list – just as I started to get into on-line betting these bitches want to outlaw me from using credit cards, checks and electronic fund transfers to pay my wagers. You guys need to stay out of my bedroom. Well, actually I don’t care if you’re in that room because nothing ever happens there, but don’t you dare set one foot into my computer room.
• I remember when Farm Aid was started it was to try and help small, family owned farms survive; a nice, populist cause if there ever was one. Now these concerts are encouraging us to eat organic shit? Either the original point of Farm Aid has gone away, or Willie Nelson, Neil Young and John Mellencamp have given up. I guess the next evolution of this concert will be to encourage everyone in attendance to write their Congressperson to encourage the banning of trans-fatty foods (unless this has already been done – I’m not hip on the latest goings-on at Farm Aid).
• Good for you Arnold for vetoing this stupid bill that would have given California’s electoral votes to the presidential candidate that gets the most popular votes of the country rather than the actual state itself. We’re not a democracy, we’re a representative republic; it’s not my fault government schools don’t teach this to our youth. Then again, it might be funny to actually let this bill pass because I’d love to see the leftists, who support this idea, backtrack when these 50+ electoral votes go to a Republican candidate rather than to the person running on the Democrat ticket who would be more likely to win this commie state’s popular vote.
