kkk's Top 103 Posters
Number 24: Teke184/cop/whoever
Now some of you may be wondering why the 2005 Lucky Strikes Cigarettes Tar Bowl Champion is on my list – wasn’t he the one who banned Frigid over the infamous “sniper” remark that in turn triggered a shitstorm the likes of which has rarely been equaled at this place? To this I say, “yeah, and so what?” If Teke didn’t ban Frigid that whole thread, not to mention the others that spawned from it, wouldn't have been as entertaining as they were. Besides, it’s not like the other two points in this love triangle aren’t being represented. Slapnuts is on this list, as is Frigid, who went on to cause havoc with an entirely separate message board. Besides, teke can also find me entertaining at times … wait a second, that was tekecop. Are they the same? I don’t know. Either way, both names begin with “teke,” so that’s close enough for me. He also helped a brotha out in a previous kkk Bowl season and lets us know of Michael Vick’s Doggie-gate scandal with frequent updates over at the other place. And believe me, if there’s one thing I want to know about it’s how someone is pissing away his God-given athletic fortune just to see a few bitches go at it.
And now a word or two from the expert panel I have put together to comment on the people I’ve listed.
From SFA Jack:
From Cancer Marney:
5:15 p.m.
• OK, so for this past week on Jim Rome’s ESPN show he’s had some guy from Chicago and this black chick on his panel, and I’ve been digging this pair, especially the latter one. Something that turns me off about people that get on these shows is that they look like they don’t want to be there. This chick is an exception to this rule. But then we got to today with the Marvin Lewis “the cops are profiling my team” story. During this topic she brings up the “the Cincy po-pos have killed 15 black men since 1995."
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
OK, people, for those that haven’t lived in the southwestern Ohio region, let me fill you in on something. Whenever you hear this “15 black men killed by the PO-lice since 1995,” let me fill you in on a little secret.
Pity, and I liked her, too.
12 p.m.
• Too bad pops wasn't with his lush son driving from bar to bar. Now I see where Joshy got his sense of personal responsibility from.
10 a.m.
• This morning I was thumbing through some old newspapers at work in search for print ads whose ideas I can steal pay homage to when I create ads of my own. Recently, my local newspaper printed its “best of” businesses for the year – you know, “best steaks,” “best hospital,” etc. Well, the winner of “best vet” was this asshole who we originally took our three cats to until Shadow got sick and we found out this guy had no idea what he was doing. When I informed the better half via e-mail this morning about this, she responded by saying…
Yeah, she’ll be fuming over this one for the next day or two.
• While on the subject of work, I have to tell this story. About a week ago my idiot boss was talking about something or other, and he said to me that “we must bend over backwards for our customers.” Now just hearing these words come out of his mouth is funny enough, but yesterday the real punch line arrived.
Long story short. In our organization’s most recent publication, I created an ad for some yearlong promotion. Customers started receiving the publication on Wednesday and yesterday someone actually called in to inquire about said ad. This is what the ad tells you to do, after all. When my idiot boss was told by one of his secretaries (we are all his secretaries) that someone had questions about this promotion, he told the secretary to tell the caller that more information will be mailed out in a mass mailing that he hasn’t even planned yet and will take at least two weeks to complete. Bend over backwards indeed.
9 p.m.
• Movie spoilers ahead – you’ve been warned so don’t bitch.
So I was flipping through the channels today and came across the conclusion of one of the worst movies I ever spent more than five minutes watching: Mr. Magoo. Holy Christ was this one piece of shit, and the sad thing is when this appeared in the theaters it actually SOLD OUT several times during my stint as a cinema employee. Later on I caught the tail end of Sniper. It was OK for what it was – I’ve seen worse. Much worse. This prompted me to keep the television on Spike in order to watch Sniper 2, which was on afterward. Of course, the ADD in me flipped channels after they shot some guy. OK, so I lied – I was also watching the Cubs/Dodgers game and FAUX News Watchlol2007. They may have explained this at the start of Sniper 2 when Tom Berenger was leading some rednecks on a deer-hunting expedition, but I would have missed the dialogue: how did they explain Tom being able to fire a gun when his trigger finger got lopped off in the previous movie?
• Lindsay Lohan got drunk and wrecked her car, allegedly. I'm not going to link the story because I don't care. However, what I will post is the picture used in the article.
Do we have a match?
7:15 p.m.
• I missed "Around the Horn" yesterday, so today was the first I heard of JA Adande leaving the LA Times. In his final column, he talks about accepting a buyout offer. I guess that's better than showing up for work one day only to find an abandoned building. I like him on the "Horn," so here's hoping he moves on to bigger and better things when he's not working 5-5:30 p.m. ET.
7 p.m.
• I heard about this a few days ago on a local RIGHT-WING RADIO show, and even though that final episode would have been a bitch for the people that didn’t get awarded the kidney, this could have been a good idea.
Let me explain. By telling the stories behind those people who need a transplant to survive in a compelling manner, I think this could encourage people to donate. Of course, then there will be an episode showing my crack-whore sister-in-law wailing about needed a liver transplant due to years of drug abuse.
Oh, speaking of her, the out-of-control niece has been living with her mother, the crack-whore, for a few weeks now and has already been kicked out. The best story to come out of this time was when the crack-whore took her daughter’s work clothes to the laundromat because her 20-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER wouldn’t. And what was the crack-whore’s reward for doing this? The daughter/out-of-control niece in-law bitched because she didn’t iron her outfits after washing them.
12 p.m.
• Good for LeBron.
Now maybe people will shut up about the first two games of this series. I’m all on James’ nuts. I admit it.
• Speaking of basketball, the Florida U coach is going to Orlando.
I don’t know, nor care, if he succeeds in the NBA or not. At least he’s going to a young team, or at least that’s what I heard about the Magic when they were getting beat by Detroit in the first round. If it was me, I’d probably stay at my safe, well-paying job and lounge off of my spoils of winning two college titles. Then again, this was probably the best time for Donovan to strike while the iron is hot, so more power to him, even though the article also stated that it was likely that Florida would have given him a similar raise.
11 a.m.
• So late last week I was watching a “locked up” shows on MSNBC – you know, those “life in the big house” documentaries. I could only watch about 10 minutes of this one episode before changing the channel in disgust. Here’s why.
We learned the story of some young man who had been originally slated to get the needle, but then the Supreme Court made their judgment about not allowing executions if the murderer was of minor age. OK, fair enough. You may agree with this or not, and some say that life in jail may be a better punishment anyway. What was the problem? The narrator added that this guy had lawyers trying to get this piece of shit out of jail.
And the ACLU and its America-hating comrades wonder why many people endorse the death penalty. If we want to off prisoners, let the private sector handle it – give Bubba a carton of Camels to shank the guy that murdered your family.
7:30 p.m.
• So Vanhalen shot me over a MSN Message earlier today. Now normally when I hear from him I try to get away as fast as I can. (Just kidding, Vanhalen. It’s that the better half always wants me to take out the trash or feed the cats right when you type “Hey man, how’s it going?”) But today I looked at the Web site he directed me to. Even though I never owned a NES, I have to say this was entertaining for the most part. My favorite part was the “Christmas” game reviews, particularly the second video talking about “Bible Buffet.” You know, for a company making CHRISTIAN games, they were ripping off quite a few other titles. Noah’s Ark 3D was my favorite of the lot.
2 p.m.
• For Ramones fans with OnDemand, if you head over to TV Entertainment/VH1/VH1 Classic, there’s a documentary about the group. They even include an “Up All Night” bit they did with Gilbert Gottfried. I don’t care what the haters say, that little Jew cracks me up.
• Why am I posting this?
So I can get to this.
I bet he did. Hey, if I can make fun of (alleged) child molesters in the Catholic church, I can here, too.
9:30 p.m.
• Humor, huh?
Well let’s look and see how funny this ad is.
*Views ad*
Well, I’m sure EricMM has already wanked to it, but I found the ad to be fucking retarded. Let’s see what other "job interview" ads he’s done.
*Views ad*
OK, this one got a laugh out of me – I liked the “overqualified” line at the end.
How about we go to the other job interview ad.
*Views ad*
Uh, Bill, pimping that you were Secretary of Energy during the time of the Los Alamos scandal isn’t something I’d be pimping. Then again, I’m sure nobody remembers that.
Let’s try this one.
*Viewing ad*
OK, W. said similar crap when he was campaigning in 2000.
Wait, wha-? Say you want to get U.S. troops out of there. I understand. But heal?
Hard diplomatic work? Oh Jesus Christ. I should have quit while I was ahead.
6:30 p.m.
• OK, so I have never watched an episode of the Sopranos, but it was one of those shows that I have planned on getting the DVDs. The question is with all the bitching I’m hearing about the ending, is it worth it to get involved in this show now?
• Dennis Miller pissed me off today on his radio show. No, he didn’t say how great Hitlery is. Instead he was talking to Dana Carvey (I was listening to Friday’s show via the archives) and he said that he thought Carvey’s “grumpy old man” schtick was going to bomb when he first did the routine on weekend update. Oh bullshit. I loved the grumpy old man skits – that’s the way it was back then and WE LIKED IT!
• You can’t make this up.
Do I even need to do the obvious “making up the news” joke that you will normally find at this point in one of these entries?
• Whatever.
The headline is, in my opinion, a bit misleading. “Quit” isn’t quite the same as “retired.” Being a government employee, I'm sure he'll have a decent goodbye package. Regarding this guy who had TB – I hope that everyone he came into contact with sues him. After all, with this guy being a trial lawyer, I’m sure he wouldn’t hesitate for a second to take a few of these cases if some sap committed the same actions he did.
kkk's Top 103 Posters
Number 22: Danny Dubya
A fellow Keystone stater, even though I don’t recall chatting it up much with him at TSM, we’ve gotten into it much more at the other place, where he is better known as Dubs. Because he’s from the other side of Pennsylvania, Dubs has got his head so far up Fast Eddie’s ass that he can peek out every time Rendell opens his mouth. What do you expect? The eastern part of this state is so contaminated with Democrats that if Three Mile Island would have had a full meltdown it would improve the region. Wait, Three Mile Island is more toward the central of the state. Shit. Oh well, you know what I’m talking about. Nevertheless, even though Dubs will take any chance he can get to slob on Eddie’s knob, he at least has enough common sense to shoot down the governor’s stupid-ass referendums that would really fuck us over. Then again, giving these people the power to try and do this shit in the first place is bad enough.
And now a word from the expert panel I have put together to comment on the people I’ve listed.
From Cancer Marney:
9:30 p.m.
• Oh fuck you.
Yeah, your woman isn't putting butts in the seats and now you're blaming us for not watching cBS because we're all SEXIST~! It can't be because she's a polarizing feminazi, could it? Nah.
Ha. So you were hoping to bring in more chicks and only got the slightest of increases. Are these female non-viewers sexist, too? LOL at the 11 percent drop in male viewers, too. I can only pray this will be the same when Hitlery gets the Democrat nomination for president.
7:45 p.m.
• So what was the big story in the Shittsburgh area today? Was it a fire that killed five children and was reported on national newscasts? Hell no. It was an incident that happened two months ago when the city’s 27-year old mayor crashed a private event to get his picture taken with Tiger Woods.
Luke went on the local RIGHT-WING RADIO show this afternoon to defend what he did, adding that the reporter got his facts wrong. Is this true? Who knows, who cares. I found the whole thing funny as hell, and I shot off a letter to the RIGHT-WING RADIO host saying that Luke was probably training to be Pennsylvania’s next Lieutenant Governor. Within minutes of sending it, the host read it over the air waves and laughed. Woo-hoo.
For those that don’t get the joke, peep this entry from a while back.
10:30 p.m.
• So I was curious to see what the score is of Game 4 of the NBA Finals.
39-34 Spurs.
At halftime.
• Hey, Sidney Crosby won the NHL MVP Award. Good for him.
• It’s been a while since I’ve listened to Dave Ramsey ever since the Jesus radio station took him off because they are a bunch of Jews and didn’t want to pay the man. He has his programs archived on his Web site, but I’ve always been too lazy to listen. Tonight I remembered/got motivated enough to download a few hours. Boy do I miss this show. First caller off the bat: a single mother missed three $600 mortgage payments and her shyster sub-prime lender is charging her $8,000 in fees. Oh yeah, her interest rate is 10 percent. What the fuck is wrong with people? I’m tired of saying “DON’T BUY A HOUSE IF YOU CAN’T GET A DECENT FIXED RATE FROM A REPUTABLE LENDER.”
But I’ll still say it anyway.
Oh, lookie here.
10 p.m.
• So the fourth starter on my Single-A MVP 2005 team just gave up back-to-back-to-back home runs in a 7-3 loss where two other round-trippers were smacked out by the other team. Well I know someone who isn’t headed to the big leagues anytime soon.
6 p.m.
• Oh boy, a copy-from-the-Drudge Report twin spin!
Pity, and I have applauded Angelina’s humanitarian work with the United jew-hating Nations in the past. I don’t quite get the point of making a movie about the Wall Street Journal reporter who got his head chopped off – it’s not like we are unaware of the end. Then again, that movie dealing with the boat which hit an iceberg made a few dollars.
• Please.
I’m willing to be my government-school education that this kid was a fucking brat throughout the year and this was the teacher’s way of getting back at the little bastard. “Sir Clowns-a-Lot”? Come on. Then again, I did spit out my Crystal Light Iced Tea when I read “Most Likely Not To Have Children.” And what the hell is with this “Words cut deeper than any knife could,” shit spewing out of his stepfather’s mouth? No wonder this kid is fucked up.
• Neglect wasn't the issue? YOU LEFT YOUR KID IN THE FUCKING CAR!
You know, maybe the solution to leaving kids in the car is putting them in carriers like we do with cats. (Whenever JJ has a vet appointment, there's no way him and his mouth are going to be abandoned in the back seat.) After all, if you see some cumbersome container you might actually be reminded that you’re leaving your kid – that little human who lives with you – in the car. Plus the tyke will probably be screaming due to the confinement. Better to be alive and screaming than silent and dead. Then again, I might rethink my last sentence the next time I’m by the dairy area and hear some brat scream from the produce section.
8 p.m.
• Oh get over yourselves.
I’ve never played this game, but I’m sure including this cathedral in the game isn’t meant to mock your precious cathedral. Jesus Christ. In fact, I’m sure this is the only time most of the people playing this game have seen the inside of a church.
Well lookie here at the next paragraph of this story.
What if you fight the aliens with gamma blasters or laser arrows instead of guns -- would that be OK?
7:30 p.m.
• Good. Fuck you and your $54 million pants.
• Interesting.
This guy was about to buy the Penguins when the sale fell through at the last minute. Looks like Shittsburgh dodged a bullet, at least when it came to keeping its hockey team here.
• Can we sue parents for making their kids fat?
The last time I checked, kids don’t spend their allowance on Frosted Flakes. Parents do. Jesus Christ, the health Nazis have already begun its initial blitzkrieg. Do I advocate fat kids? No. But it shouldn’t be the job of the business to play parent. Hell, with these cereals supposedly being “more healthy,” I’m sure a number of parents out there will feed their kids TWICE as many Rice Krispies servings as before.
10 p.m.
• OK kiddie, gather around. It's time to play...
...what will the defense lawyer say this time?
If you said...
You win ... nothing.
Oh, here is some more notable stuff.
8 p.m.
• So what skin at TSM are you in?
Still with the old-school blue.
7:30 p.m.
• So the guy from South America won the U.S. Open. Whatever. I watched a little of the tournament this weekend. I actually so this guy play a little Sunday and thought, “Hmm, I never heard of him before. How come nobody is thinking he can win when he’s not that far behind?” What insight.
One thing I’ve been hearing on the PTIs and ATHs of the world whenever a major tournament has a course where the winning score is over par is should courses be that difficult. The people who disagree say they want to see birdies and eagles while those on the other side of the coin want to see the best golfers in the world struggle. Where do I fall in this debate? Who cares what the final score is – it’s not like half the players go on a different course while the other half have to struggle/excel on another 18 holes. Like I’ve said before, I don’t follow golf except for watching the occasional major, so I have no clue as to this sport’s intricacies. Everyone has to play the same 18 holes, although I’m sure there could be a difference in the greens from when the first guy of a day’s event gets on to the final golfer makes his putt. Nevertheless, I don’t get the whining if a course doesn’t offer up birdies every hole. If that’s the case, then go for pars. Big deal. Eh, I’m getting too far into this topic in relation to how I care about it.
• I saw an interesting segment on ESPN yesterday about these three chicks and their nudy pics, or refusal to do such photographs. One chick (Amanda Beard) is doing Playboy. Another (Brandi Chastain) didn’t go nude, but had some other risqué shots done. Then there was another who just appeared in a swimsuit (Jennie Finch). Hey, if a female athlete wants to show off what she’s got then more power to her. Sure some people might think that this “cheapens” her on-the-field successes, but so what? I’m sure most guys thumbing through a magazine to get to a chick’s centerfold wouldn’t be caring much about how she won Olympic gold or a professional title. I wouldn’t care to see some female athlete in a nudy magazine; the outfits many of them wear reveal enough to keep me happy. Actually, I’d rather have them clothed because it leaves more to the imagination. With that being said, I might as well rank in order the kinds of female athletes I like to oogle as of 7:30 p.m. on Monday, June 18.
Soccer chicks: By far my favorite, although goalies and some defenders can be a bit butch. The toned upper torsos, the powerful legs, the sweaty bodies, the ability to get on their knees at a moment’s notice … excuse me for a few minutes while I have to feed the cats. Yeah, the cats.
Volleyball chicks: What I really like about this sport is that there are several varieties. You got the short spunky ones who jump 10 feet in the air to serve or spike, and you also have the thicker ones who set and block. Please note I’m talking about indoor volleyball athletes. Those Pro Beach competitors just seem too lanky.
Swimming chicks: I feel a bit guilty about ranking this group third because they have an advantage with getting to wear bathing suits, but whatever. It’s not their fault they need to be in shape for this sport.
Tennis chicks: While I enjoy watching women’s volleyball and soccer, I probably like watching women’s tennis the most out of any female sport, especially when compared to the amount of time I spend watching this sport’s male counterparts. At least in the women’s sport they seem to volley more, and I’m not going to complain about the outfits, either, although I was never a big Anna Kournikova fan.
Softball chicks: Over the last few years I’ve been drawn to women’s softball. Much like the soccer chicks, there are some big girls on these teams, but someone’s got to play catcher. If only they grabbed their crotches more while playing they might have been able to move up a spot or two.
I didn’t include track and field chicks on this list because, well, I don’t watch this shit. Ditto basketball. I haven't seen enough golf to make a decision one way or the other. I've seen some of those women on the LPGA and ... shudder. I'm sure there are hotter up-and-comers to be had, and I'm sure they will get the publicity when the time is right.
Now what do all thewomen’s sports I ranked have in common? Surprisingly enough, they are all sports I don’t mind watching just for the sporting element itself. Yeah, I know, I just spent a few hundred words talking about T&A, but I also actually like watching each of these women’s sports from time to time. Except for swimming. I’m a perv when it comes to this one. Sorry.
1:30 p.m.
• A big "Fuck You" to the prosecutor Dan Satterberg. With the voter fraud that went on up there in your one recent election (Governor or Senate spot: I can't remember which off the top of my heat), you decide that you "can't look the other way" with this? Fag.
8:15 p.m.
• Well, the attempt to legalize the Mexican invasion is back on like Donkey Kong.
Time to see how my elected officials voted.
Big fucking shock there, Crazy Arlen and Junior.
8 p.m.
• So now we can start suing hurricanes, or, better yet, George W. Bush for causing global warming which makes these natural disasters more, err, disastrous? Woo-hoo.
• My n*gga.
• Wait a second.
So these places have to put the calorie counts NEXT to their products on those marquee menus? Putting all the nutritional info on a placemat or on a wrapper or carton should be good enough.
This raises an interesting point. I'd be more curious to see this kind of information on sit-down restaurant menus. Not like that would deter me from ordering anything.
Only 990? Shit, I thought it would be way more than that.
2:30 p.m.
• Murder-suicides that make you think of ... Chris Benoit
Buncha crazy fucking people in this world.
2:15 p.m.
• So Chris Benoit died. Hey, why is my office desk swirling around me? And why do I have the urge to upchuck my lunch?
I don’t comment on wrestling all that much, and I stopped watching the product about 5-6 years ago. Growing up during the 80s, I was a huge Sgt. Slaughter fan, especially when he would beat up brown people. However, as I got older, I tuned out of the pro wrestling scene. In the mid- to late-1990s, I got interested in it once again when some people I knew started wearing those black-and-white New World Order shirts. When I found out what these things meant, I decided to check out this testosterone-lace soap opera. Again.
Even though I had no idea who most of the people were on WCW’s Nitro, I must say that I enjoyed this product. The production value, the pizzazz: it made for a very entertaining evening of television. And while I found much of the “main event” action boring, I tuned into to watch those little masked guys fly around in (and out) of the ring. I also took a liking to many of the wrestlers who were in “mid-card” storylines. One of these performers was some guy named Chris Benoit. I didn’t know what it was about him I liked. He didn’t talk much, if at all, and all he really did was wrestle. But I did enjoy his work. I can’t explain why –– I just did. One thing I thought to myself was, “Why didn’t this guy get more exposure? He seems pretty good.” Little did I know that a few years later when I was introduced to this thing called the Internet Wrestling Community I discovered that I wasn’t alone. Sure I knew nothing about the “glass ceiling” or about how Kevin Nash was holding everybody down, but I really didn’t care as long as I got to see Benoit wrestle during some Nitro segment every Monday night.
As the years went by, and my wrestling viewing continued, I always liked Chris, among other talent. (I was a huge Booker T. fan while he was in WCW, and I always laughed whenever Lance Storm said “if I can be serious for a minute…”) I haven’t been up to date on the wrestling scene in years, and the only news I hear about is when someone dies. So when I saw the TSM “Chris Benoit Dead” thread early this morning, I thought, “Is this real?” Turns out it was. Wow. That sucks. How did he die?
Wait, what?
If this is indeed true (breaking news can sometimes be inaccurate –– remember the cannibals in the post-Katrinia Superdome), why did I just waste 400 words on you, Chris? I don’t care how much I enjoyed your work in the past. You killed your wife. You killed your kid. You also, according to the above news article, left two other kids fatherless, although I don’t know how much of a father figure you were to them in the first place. It's a shame you didn't decide to clamp down on the barrel of a shotgun and pull the trigger in your weight room first before paying a final visit to the rest of your family.
11:30 a.m.
• So I’m driving 120 miles round-trip in a few hours for a job interview. You know what I love about interviewing when you already have a job? Not having to kiss the interviewer’s backside. When you’re without a paycheck it’s sometimes depressing to have to try and justify getting hired by someone whose job you could do better than them. I really don’t have a feel for this one –– I’m dealing with a staffing agency, and my experiences with these places aren’t all that good. But I’ve got 3 comp hours to spend this pay period, so I figure why the hell not. Worst case scenario I have my resume on file for an area that’s not near the Shittsburgh region, which could give me some sort of edge with jobs near my community. Well, actually, the worst case would be opening my mouth and blasting these people for their inability to do their jobs, but I won’t be doing that. I think.
4:30 p.m.
• So Philly's mayor has nothing better to do on a workday than wait in line for an iPhone.
I remember for years this one guy with a mohawk always ran for office in Shittsburgh. He was named "Mad Dog." Interesting fellow.
9 a.m.
• So yesterday I left work early to do this interview thing. The place was 60 miles away, and I gave myself more than two hours to get there. Turns out I needed another 60 minutes due to road construction. OK, I get that roads need to be maintained, but when you shut down MILES of highway only to have FIVE people wearing shiny yellow jerseys standing around some 10-foot hole backing up miles of traffic, I can understand why some people get road rage in these instances. But that really wasn’t a problem for me on this day because when I arranged this interview earlier in the week I let the receptionist chick know that I was coming from a distance and had set up a time just in case of a mishap like this. I’ve done this shit enough times in the past to know things like so-called “work areas,” accidents and shoddy directions can happen. No problem. However, there were some other things that I expected to happen, and sadly I wasn’t let down.
When I got the call back early in the week from this place about the position I applied to, I had a list of questions I wanted answered right off the bat. After all, what’s the point of going through all this shit when I can nip it in the bud with an inquiry about the job from the comfort of my own home? Unfortunately, this chick (I’ll call her Kelly) had no idea how to answer my questions. Turns out she’s not a recruiter but the receptionist. However, I’m not going to rag on Kelly because during the phone conversation she told me she was recently hired and trying to learn while on the job. I can respect that. Never once was I rude, condescending or patronizing to her. The questions I had for her she tried her best to answer, and that’s all you can ask of a person. When I arranged for my interview, I asked what would be involved and what materials should I bring with me. I was told the whole procedure (including filling out the application form) would only take 30 minutes, and that all I needed to bring with me was my employment information for the last three years.
Yeah, right.
When I entered this place’s office, I saw some late-teen/early 20something sitting at a desk talking on the phone while wearing in a low-cut shirt and skimpy dress. After her work-related conversation ended, I replied, “Hello, you must be Kelly.” The reason for this is because not only did I recognize her voice, but I also noticed that there was a sheet of paper taped to the wall behind her that had all the information to the questions I had asked of her earlier in the week. Now this is where the fun really begins. Kelly asks me “Did you bring your driver’s license, social security card and birth certificate?”
She hands me the application I had to fill out, and, sure enough, the form asks me to fill out employment information not from the past three years, but rather from the past three employers. There was also a section for references, requesting names, addresses and all that good stuff. Sadly, I was ready for this sort of thing, because in the past when I dealt with these staffing organizations they had no clue as to what they were doing. As I filled out the form I was seated next to two women. At least one of them was interviewing for the same position I me. Now when you already have a job and are interviewing for another position, your demeanor is much more different than if you are unemployed and looking for work. Christ I hate that feeling. That sense of dread and all-or-nothingness. But when you know a paycheck is already coming to your bank account, your mood is much lighter. However, it seemed this chick was a bit on the nervous side, so I left her alone. The other gal, some black chick with an accent I couldn’t pinpoint, asked me for the time and then started fretting about the application she was filling out, mentioning that she had to be out of her by 4:30 p.m.. Uh, OK. The first chick got called to do a typing test and it was just me, the black chick and Kelly.
Let me tell you something about Kelly. If she wasn’t an example of a “Butterface,” I don’t know who is. From the minute you look at her from the neck down, you know why she got this job. Great figure, greater tan legs, not a large rack but perfectly in proportion to the rest of her body. Her face? Well. I didn’t look at it long enough because I didn’t want her to catch me staring, but I fear the poor girl has been battling acne for quite a long time. There was a crater/scab/whatever in the middle of her forehead so large that at first I wondered if it was one of those red dots Indian women put on themselves. But whatever. She was nice enough, and you could tell she was trying at her job, which, from my experiences, is a rarity at her type of employment. I even got a bit more information about the position out of her through cordial chitchat. (They were seeking several hirees and there were a number of cancelled appointments.) Of course, after I turned in the application, she then gave me some speling and grammer tests. Oh I hate these fucking things. Sad, isn’t it? I’m a JOURNALISM grad and I suck at the English language. I wasn’t as annoyed about actually taking these tests as I was at the fact this place was closing at 5 p.m. and the “half hour” I would be spending at this place was already past the 45-minute mark with the typing test and interview still to be completed. Well, long story short, after I completed these tests I went into another room and started typing. My score: 67 words per minute, 1 error. It was now just after 5 p.m. and the office was closed. I went with some other chick to do the interview, and at 5:45 p.m., 105 minutes after I showed up, I was out the door.
Did I get this job? Don’t really know. Don’t really care. I’ve done so many of these interviews in the past that I don’t concern myself with worrying about something I may have said or did to throw my chances of getting a job with the interviewer out the window. I’ve learned that in many instances the employer already has a set candidate in mind, and no matter what you do to prove yourself you’re just not “that fit.” Nothing personal. Just business. Funny enough, in many of these instances I’m also sitting at my side of the table thinking, “Do I really want to see you for eight hours a day, 40 hours a week?” I’ll find out sometime this week if I’ll be brought back for training, which is fine. Even if I don’t get this job, as I mentioned in yesterday’s entry, I have my resume and (surprisingly good) test scores seeded at this place, which does recruiting in my neck of the woods, away from Shittsburgh region. Ideally, I’d like to try out this at-home position as a second job, and if I like it perhaps I’ll be able to quit my current place of employment and focus solely on this one, which is a pay-for-what-you-produce type of thing. Either way, I got out of my office three hours early today, and if nothing else, this trip was worth it just for that alone.
3 p.m.
• So my one co-worker died on Friday at the age of 48. No, I didn't hate her. We didn't talk much, but I have nothing bad to say, even though from what I heard she didn't do all that much work. Whatever. Not my problem. Don't care. Now our organization, which prides itself on being a close-knit "family," a crock of shit if there ever was one, just went to view her body at the funeral home. Everyone, that is, except me. Like I said before, I have nothing against her, but we rarely, if ever, interacted. I learned a long time ago to separate business from personal life at this place, which is a shame because I actually like being friends with the people I work with (ask Swift Terror, who would probably regret knowing me). Did I do the wrong thing? If you say "yes," I wouldn't argue (much), but when a place squashes any kind of camaradie and runs an impersonal, uncaring atmosphere, don't be shocked when the help acts accordingly.
• If you thought that last blurb was depressing, and you loathe the current Mexican invasion into the U.S. of A., then this video clip won’t be much better. But hey, it’s got the Benny Hill theme, so it’s all good.
9 a.m.
• You know, I don’t think I’d want to be employed at a brothel for women, aside from the fact I would probably get no work whatsoever. Think about it. You would probably have to bang fat chicks, and you wouldn’t be able to get drunk beforehand.
And how exactly does a male brothel work? If your man finishes before you do, does a sub come in –– I would guess a chick pays for a certain amount of time. I have always assumed a female prostitute charges per ejaculation. And I didn't even make one "liquor license" joke.
5:15 p.m.
• So let me get this right. I drive home from work. Now garbage pick up for me is Friday. Today is Friday. However, there are several holidays that, if they fall on a weekday, pushes back garbage collection back a day. One of these holidays is Independence Day. This means my garbage pick up is Saturday. This morning when driving to work, I noticed several houses on my street with their trash out. When I got back from work, the cans were there, but the garbage wasn’t. Hmmm. To solve this groovy mystery I called up the garbage company.
Me: Good afternoon, I was calling because I was wondering if there was a trash collection along 666 kkk Street?
Them: What day is your pick up?
Me: Today, but with this week featuring Independence Day, and this holiday listed on your card saying which holidays move back collection, I was double-checking.
Them: You collection will be tomorrow, that’s right.
Me: OK. The reason I called was that when I left for work several houses along my street had their trash out, and when I returned home the cans were still there but the trash was gone.
Them: That’s right. They left their garbage up to be collected.
Me: But you just said collection will be tomorrow.
Them: That’s right.
Me: Huh?
Them: We collect it both days. It’s easier that way.
Me: Uh, OK.
So in order to make it easier for the trash collectors, they have to drive two routes for two days to collect garbage from neighborhoods that are told not to put out their trash until a day later than normal? Well if it works for Waste Management, then it works for me. I always wondered how they dealt with holidays.
12:45 p.m.
• Whew. I'm glad Burger King is getting rid of those dangerous trans-fats. Now I can eat my triple whopper with cheese value meal without fear of it being bad for me.
• Remember yesterday's entry when I said my trip to the zoo was blocked off by a parade? It wasn't.
I guess I should feel bad and ponder my own existence in this crazy world, but I don't. Hey, you didn't have to hear the better half bitch about not being able to see the tiger cubs on the drive home.
• I wonder if you get an STD from this if you can claim workman's comp, or whatever they do over there.
11 p.m.
• Haven’t paid attention to the hippie Save-the-Planet concerts, but I figured someone would bring this up:
But that’s OK. Because it’s all for a good cause.
You know, Al, instead of holding hippie concerts to tell us all how to live our lives, I think your time would be better served answering your critics.
• This was also on Drudge, but what's better than the actual article...
...was the in the comment section after the article. El Duderino, my n*gga.
No, they don't have anything better to do. Dealing with domestic Islamic terrorists is one of the worst things you can do to a Muslim male.
2:30 p.m.
• So I went to bed at 3 a.m. after watching that Insomniac special hosted by David Attell. Wasn’t too bad, actually. I’d rank the performances as Giraldo, Attell, Rouse and … ugh … Cook. What is the big deal behind this guy? I’ve seen two performances from him and I think I’ve only chuckled once, maybe twice – but that was because two of my cats were wrestling in front of the television at the time. Anyway, I went to bed and woke up at 1:30 p.m. today: a ten-and-a-half hour nap. Haven’t had one of those in a while. It brought back memories when I was living in Sappy Valley.
I lived at that shithole from January ’99 through August of ’00, and for my last several months I had an apartment to myself. The future Mrs. kkk went back home after she graduated from Penn State to work for a few months, and I stayed because I had steady work and it was easier to do that than go back to the Shittsburgh region, look for work for three months, and them move again to Ohio, which is where we were headed for that August. I worked 60+ hours/7 days per week, and there were several days when I put in 12+ hour shifts. There were some days when I got in and slept for 17 hours straight. And it was great. Christ, when you awaken from one of those slumbers you feel like you’re ready to take on the world.
Oh, yeah. Here was my Friday night. The test-tube welfare family I have talked about in the past stopped over for the first time to get our old screen door for their casa. And they brought their two test-tube kids. Gag. I’m sorry. I do not like these people. It mostly stems from the fact they purposely had two kids via artificial insemination when they do not have the money for this. Many people would feel bad for a family of four if they collected welfare because the dad and mom got laid off from their job, or an accident/illness befell one of them. However, these two people were on the public dole BEFORE heading off to the sperm clinic. (Note: Due to the seach function seemingly being out of order, I can't link up previous entries talking about these people to give some background info to any n00bs reading.)
Anyway, it was funny to see their reaction to our house because they were AMAZED at how nice it was. Yes, these people own a HOUSE. A house, which I learned last night, needs ductwork because the previous owner built new shitty walls to cover up the shittier walls from prospective buyers. Oh, yeah. The previous buyer didn’t install any new ventilation ducts to allow the hot air from circulating throughout the house; basically, the hot air just stayed in-between the two walls. The test-tube family didn’t realize this and just kept turning up the heat this past winter, resulting one month in a $700 bill, which I’m sure the taxpayers footed the bill for. Their house also has, according to the better half, uneven floors that allow someone to roll objects from tables and countertops with no effort. There were a few other fix-em-ups that this piece of property needs, but I can’t remember what they were. I guess those $300 mortgage payments (which they are several months behind on) proves the adage, “you get what you pay for.”
So as I sat there listening to them talking about how the matriarch of this family can’t work more than two days per week or else they wouldn’t be able to get welfare, I was doing everything I can to not include any commentary of my own. What job does this person work? She cleans her aunt’s house (the aunt whose house I attend every Memorial Day for that annual family cookout), and by “cleans” I mean “sits down all day and watches television with the rest of the public assistance leeches.” Then I heard that they were thinking about bringing a THIRD human being into this world. Oh hell no. Keep watching the Braves game, which was on to keep their kids somewhat distracted, and this will be all over with soon enough. WTF? The White Sox game was 20-14? Back to reality, the younger of the two kids says, something that struck fear into me.
“Daddy, I went poopie.”
OH HELL NO! With as droopy as that diaper of hers is, you get that brat out of this house. Sure my three cats will launch the occasional turd from one of their litter boxes and bat it around on the floor, and Dessa will infrequently pee on the carpet sometimes just to be a bitch, but they're cats. And, more importantly, they're my cats and are much less maintenance overall than a fledging human being. When these people finally left, with the screen door tied down to the top of their car and the glass part placed in the back seat (which is where their two kids were also sitting), I grabbed the can of Oust from the bathroom and started spraying the living room. Mrs. kkk and I then exchanged the following words. Figure out who said what yourself.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting the ‘poor people’ smell out of our house.”
“That is so not right.”
“Then why are you laughing?”
7 p.m.
• Poor Katie.
Ha, that "free speech" thing they started out with died. That's funny. Wait, dressing down for less criticism? Wouldn't it be the other way? Oh well. I'm glad the whole thing is going to shit.
• Well at least we know this wasn't a lover's quarrell.
9:30 a.m.
• Christ, the house was just cleaned on Friday and now Max, who is a longhair, is starting to leave his signature card all over the floor. Oh well, nothing he can do about it; cat’s gotta shed. Besides, he’s so darn adorable.
Of course, the clumps of fur could also be spots where he wrestled with JJ while I was sleeping. It’s actually quite amusing to see. As I have said before, JJ is actually a rather powerful cat, but this strength is wrapped up in a package of cowardice. He’ll run up to Max and made this gesture that he wants to wrestle and they’ll go at it for about five seconds until JJ jumps up and runs away. And JJ always likes to be the one on the bottom. Go figure.
6:30 p.m.
• Ha.
And you’re the one that wants the unFairness Doctrine in place to ban RIGHT-WING RADIO. Get a taste of your own medicine by having someone curtail your speech, you little shit.
• So Sidney Crosby signed a contract extension and didn’t get the biggest payday he could have.
More power to him. I’ve said before, I don’t mind athletes trying to get as much money as they can. If you’re fortunate to have your services in that high of demand, then go for the phat check. However, surely there has to come a time when the money takes a back seat to other things. At the end of his career, Crosby is going to have a shitload of money. If you were in his position, would you rather have $200 million and no Stanley Cup title or $150 million with a much better chance to give that silver trophy a smooch or two?
• David Beckham is in the hizzle.
Whatever. I have nothing against the chap. If he puts a few more butts in the seats, then yay. I doubt soccer will see a boom from this, but I’m sure if ESPN shoves this down our throats, then maybe I’m wrong. Then again, that hippie cell phone they pimped a while back didn’t quite work out for them, and those commercials got on my last nerve. While I’m on the subject of ESPN, this “Who’s Now” thing they’re doing has got to be one of the dumbest things I’ve seen this network do. When I’ve seen Jay Harris (one of the few anchors I don’t mind) talk about this gimmick I swear he’s saying to himself, “Think about the paycheck, Jay, just think about the paycheck.”
• Well no shit.
My one niece-in-law is a really big girl, and now that she’s getting into the double-digits in age, I can see that she’s getting a bit self-conscious of her waistline. Oh well.
Efforts? So calling someone “fatass” would be hate speech? Oh, and this is rich.
4:30 p.m.
• This has been a somewhat-big story in my neck of the woods. This just goes to show that if some drunk driver plows into you, and your car can still run after the collision, run over the sonofabitch and killer the fucker if you have the chance. Taking a wrench to the lush's head a few times will work, too, if your car is unable to drive.
3:30 p.m.
• So the better half was reading her church’s weekly newsletter-thing and said that they’re looking for some guest family (or whatever they’re called) for some South Korean exchange student. (Sorry, Vyce, this one’s 16.) After I got my “Don’t even think about it unless you don’t want to see our cats again” remark out of the way, I had to comment that it’s amazing for someone that young to travel half-way across the world and spend a year with people you don’t know. Shit, I’m lucky to leave the house during the weekend.
• This past week had a date titled 7-11 and Friday the 13th. Weird.
9:30 p.m.
• So tonight was Texas Roadhouse night for the kkk household. I can’t remember the last time I went, but damn I love this place. Great food, from the hard-boiled egg bits they put in the salad to that apple-butter stuff for the rolls, to the steak/chicken/pork. And the value is solid, too. Actually, I remember going here after W. got re-elected, and the place was packed with joyous Republicans. Christ only knows what it was like the day after the ’06 elections. I bet Panera Bread, Starbucks and the fag hippie eatery (Amazon café, I think it’s called) by the local mall were filled to the gills with the tofu and kelp flying off the shelves.
• On the way home from work today I saw another bumper sticker worth noting. At first I was going to mention my sight of an Edwards ’08 decal, but then a few miles later my attention turned to this gem. It was a picture of a pistol with that circle/slash symbol with the words “No handguns please.” Oh that’s fucking brilliant. If I was a carjacker I know I’d sure stay away from you. Why don’t you put a sign out on your lawn that reads, “This house is a gun-free zone.” Idiot.
• Man, and I thought those celebrity PSA’s in the States were retarded.
I love that last paragraph. Actually, from what I hear, trafficking is mad crazy down there. Then again, when it’s 11 p.m. and you’re in the mood for some Latina teen poon, Jose is only a phone call away, and the delivery charges are pretty reasonable, especially with the rising gas prices and all.
• But … but… the WWE said there weren’t any roids in Benoit’s body.
• Wow, Smues was right. Alaska sure has its share of fucked up drivers.
KKK's Top 103 Posters
Number 16: Cerebus
I first met Cerebus a few years back, and he really enjoyed the debate which used to go on in the CE threads. On top of that, he actually knew what he was talking about. Hey, did you know he was a Palestinian Christian? Cerebus was part of the Conservative Brigade, but because he was from Connecticut, where RINOs graze like how the buffalo used to before whitey showed up, he was never given the exclusive VIP membership card. However, he really isn’t like many of the other pansy-ass RINOs in the New England region; he just doesn't care for the Pat Robertsons of the world, and you really can’t blame someone for that. I’m not exactly a Robertson fan, but if he gets enough people to the polls to vote for the same people I do, then he can say God shows his wrath to third-world countries that don’t believe in Christianity through tidal waves, earthquakes and the AIDS. Then again God didn’t create AIDS, the C.I.A. did to wipe out the inner-cities. However, like many government agencies, they fucked up and now homos can’t ride bareback. Thanks a lot, Reagan. You had to go ruin that, too. I don't think I mentioned this yet, but Cerebus is a Palestinian Christian. Sadly, like many people at TSM, he moved on to do stuff in the real world, such as make babies with his hot wife, teach and do other grown-up stuff that I’m still trying to stay away from because I’m only of shell of a true man like Cerebus, who doesn’t mind being responsible and willing to engage in the circle of life. Oh, yeah. I think I heard somewhere that he is a Palestinian Christian.
7:45 p.m.
• Now there's an arrest in a tortise torture case? Good God.
4:45 p.m.
• Yeah, we don't want any of those totalitarion groups in Germany exploiting vulnerable people.
1:30 p.m.
• And now it’s time for the Dr. Laura Call of the Day (or whenever I feel like doing this). It’s not really a call, it’s an e-mail she just read. Someone wrote to say that she was driving down the road and saw a sign that read “Kids Come First Daycare.” Now daycare centers are like concentration camps on this show, so that’s why this e-mail was read. However, the reason I mention this is that there’s a daycare with the same name just down the road from where I live. Now the location of the e-mailer wasn’t said, and I’m sure there’s more than one business in this country with this name. However, Dr. Laura is in the Shittsburgh market. The real kicker to this is that there is a woman’s strip club right next to this daycare center near me.
Wait, I just got the caller of the day. Someone’s in love with some guy and had premarital sex with him. Uh oh. Here we go. “What you’re doing for free other women charge for.” “You’re putting prostitutes out of business.” OK, now that was funny. Why the hell would anyone call this show with a question dealing with out-of-wedlock sex? I lived in sin for six-and-a-half years and could just imagine the bitching I’d get on this show if I called with a similar question. Actually, I am curious about something. Mrs. kkk has a friend who was a bridesmaid at our wedding. Now there’s a chance that this chick could get married to this real piece of work. The better half has told her friend what she things of this guy. If her friend would end up marrying this guy, Mrs. kkk thinks that being a bridesmaid would be an endorsement of this holy union. However, if she would refuse to be a bridesmaid this would probably be the end of the friendship. Personally, I don’t think being a bridesmaid endorses the marriage; it’s just being there for a friend or family member. I could be wrong on this one, but then again I’m a guy and we don’t know shit about this stuff.
7:30 a.m.
• With yesterday's Vick and psycho-leaves-girl-to-gators stories making their rounds around the media, I didn't have the heart to tell the better half about the teens-light-kitten-on-fire tragedy. I figured she would find out about it soon enough. She did. From my work inbox this morning.
Oh this will be a fun ride home today. It's kinda funny, whenever we took in our two stray cats, each time the mother-in-law made a remark that Mrs. kkk is trying to save everything in this world. We're not trying to save the world. Just what comes up to our doorstep. And just as long as it has four legs and a tail. Fuck the human race.
7:30 p.m.
• Oh this better not start a trend.
That is, unless this TV prez gets killed.
• And yet we continue to bitch about $3/gallon gasoline.
Well, this ruling is by the 9th Circus, so there is a chance it'll get overturned.
• Gee, what’s this? A tax that didn’t do what it was supposed to do? I’m shocked. Boy, I can’t wait for this FREE government health care.
• Don't you know that forbidding prayer while at work during unscheduled breaks is one of the worst things you can do to a Muslim male?
I really don't care about all this shit, but what caught my eye was this guy's name.
12:15 p.m.
• So I just heard on the NFL Network that you can get 177 different words from Houshmandez. Damn.
• I goofed on Philly's mayor a while back regarding his waiting in like for an iPhone. All is forgiven.
9:30 p.m.
• So Drew Carey is going to follow in Bob Barker’s footsteps.
As long as he promises never to do another one of those “Whose Line…” shows, I’m down. Other than that abortion of a show, I’ve never had a problem with Carey. I remember years ago he was on O’Reilly’s show blasting Uncle Sam’s death tax, so he’s A-OK in my book.
• Mom and Pop, look out.
• Hey environmentalists, please protest in China during the next summer games. Please please please please please please. Let's see how tolerant the Chinese are of your cries of global warming and pollution.
3 p.m.
• Uh, oops.
I have oftentimes identified people by their appearance, and one time it could have bitten me in the rump. I was at the Quickie Mart, and this one guy forgot to pay for his fuel. He was a frequent patron, but I didn’t know his name. I left a note for the next cashier that the “bald guy” with the beard that drove a particular vehicle forgot to pay for his fill up. He, of course, read this note a day or so later when he stopped in for something-or-other. Fortunately, he had a sense of humor and just found the note funny. What else was I supposed to say – the 6’1” white male with a beard?
I find it funny that some people have a problem with saying somebody is of a particular race. Picture this: you are at a table with nine white guys and a black guy, and the black guy just told a funny story, leaving the other people in stitches. A stranger walks buy and asks you what happened, and you reply, “Bob just told a funny joke.” The stranger then says, “Who’s Bob?” What do you say – the man with the green pants and brown Polo shirt? No, you say “the black guy.” It’s funny to see some people squirm around this subject.
When I was at community college, my feminazi school newspaper adviser was trying to describe to a student what the subject of his upcoming feature story looked like. She first said, “he’s big,” followed by “he has a beard.” I couldn’t take it anymore and blurted out “he’s black.” Of course, he was one of two or three black professors at this place. The group of students sitting around me just started laughing out loud at how our liberal prof skirted around the most distinctive characteristic this guy had.
