kkktookmybabyaway

10 p.m. • So I just got done watching "Crash." Holy shit did that deserve to win an Oscar -- for best comedy. I can't remember another film from recent memory in which I've laughed so hard for so long. 3 p.m. • About damn time, A-Rod. Now the sports media can talk about when you are going to hit 600~! • So I’m in the mood to make fun of my employers. In two weeks I will be at another board meeting where I’m sure there will be plenty of bitching about the downward spiral of our organization. Why is my workplace in the shitter? Perhaps this example might shed some light on the subject: In August of 2006 it was voted on to raise our annuity rates by a half-point in order to generate much-needed business. In addition, it was voted on to start a print advertising campaign to, you know, let people know of this rate increase, which was considerably higher than the rest of the market. My idiot boss was lukewarm to this, claiming outside advertising doesn’t work. Between this time and the next meeting in November I produced about a half-dozen ad concepts and filed them away until the idiot decides to ask for them. In November of 2006, there is no mention of this ad campaign at the board meeting. In February of 2007, nothing is done at this meeting either. In May of 2007, it is determined that we cut the annuity rates because they didn’t generate the type of business the powers-that-be had hoped. The idiot boss also tells everybody that the print ad campaign will be done “sometime this summer.” My ads are still lounging in my “stuff the boss will forget about because shiny objects around him are easy distractions” folder. As of Friday, August 3, there is still no mention of these ads from the powers-that-be. So, in summary, we raised annuity rates for nearly nine months in hopes of attracting customers. We didn’t advertise these rates and nobody bought them. If any advertising will now be done, it will tout rates that have been reduced and are at par with the rest of the industry and are really not all that spectacular, especially with a stock market at 14,000. (Quick lesson: the better the stock market does, the worse it is for the annuity market and vice versa.) This will then make the idiot boss say, “See? outside advertising does not work. Just like I told you all before.” Did I forget mention that at the August 2006 meeting it was determined the theme of these ads were to pimp our increased annuity rates? Like I’ve said before, there’s something charming about watching this kind of behavior – in a train wreck sort of way. Now you might ask, “How come you didn’t show your boss the ads you created nearly a year ago?” Because when you deal with people this incompetent, the best thing to do is step away, keep your mouth shut and avoid them whenever possible. If you get too close to a tar pit, then you’ll be dragged in as well. Trust me on this one. 10:30 a.m. • So I had to go with the better half to some annual church bazaar and had to play Bingo for 90 minutes. Actually, I don’t mind Bingo. It’s rather fun to piss off Mrs. kkk by flipping those chip-things around and hear all the old people bitch about not being able to hear the numbers called out. In fact, last night’s outing was downright awesome because the Bingo caller’s kid was helping call out numbers. Did I mention the kid has Downs. Do I need to say any more? Wow, were there a number of angry blue-hairs. Please note I’m not giddy the kid has Downs. Rather, it was hilarious to watch so many people try to understand what she was calling out when her dad would call out the same number a few seconds later.

Oh, there's already a backlash of sorts because the Pirates didn't draft some catcher and instead went with a cheaper pitcher.

I saw this family on a Discovery show a year or two ago. I think the dad works in real estate.

3 p.m. • So yesterday I heard Pat McEnroe and J.A. Adande subbing in on PTI. Wasn't impressed. Not so much at J.A., but Pat was trying way too hard and coming up way too short. It felt like J.A. was just collateral damage. • And this is why I don't bother to read fiction ... real life is so much better. Love the last paragraph. (Note: This article is a few months old.)

Old age?

I'll take it -- he could have said worse.

kkk's Top 103 Posters Number 15: Slayer This poster really kills me. Get it? Kills me. Slayer. And who says I’ve given up on this countdown? Anyway, I’d have to say that Slayer is probably one of the truest libertarians at this place. He’s got enough common sense to stay away from liberal craziness, but at the same time he shakes his head whenever his red state of Kansas acts like … well, a red state. Actually, Slayer frequents this place much in the same way I do – get in a thread, say your one-liner, queer up the place and get out. He, naturally, does this much better than I do, which is why I guess he always goes way deeper than me in those poster tournaments. Then again, maybe he just steals vote counts like the Bush War Machine did in 2000 and 2004. Oh INXS, how I’ve missed your lunacy. 7 p.m. • So Shittsburgh has a little mini-crisis of its own due to the Michael Vick case. No, Willie Parker doesn't have any cockfighting rings in his house, unlike Kordell Stewart ... ba-da-bing! Anyway, I could tell you the story, but why bother when I can get someone else to do it for me. It's a really sad day when a person gets invited onto an OPINION show, tells the actual truth of the situation and gets hounded by two media outlets, one of which is him employer. Is it any surprise that the Post-Gazette is a steaming pile of liberal PC shit? Paul Zeise can post a comment on KK' Korner any time he wants. I mean, it's not like he's nl-asshole or anything. • You know, every time I watch Star Wars, I get more questions than answers. For example, how does Lando run a mining business when he's up there in the clouds? I think the fact I don't know this makes me glad because it shows what level of Star Wars geekdom I'm at. • Normally I'd say something like "OMG ur tAx dollarz @ wurk!" over something like this. But then I got to the next paragraph.

Now I bet that cloud place is a third-world shithole. Never really cared for Lando. Don't hate him, don't really like him. Han is, of course, at the top of the list.

So a black guy was holding down a group of other people. Lando just shot up a few slots in my Star Wars favs list.

I'm still here.

Wait a minute! Cheesala posts over at the other place?

Man stuff, like cars.

And for God's sake, if you're going to type anything longer than 50 words, do it first in Word or some other program before posting it. That way we don't have to read, "I wrote this 2,000-word entry, but when I went to publish it everything vanished."

Regarding this place: First! Sorry. I've always wanted to do that. I took CE's cherry while she was shit-faced and passed out on the guest bedroom. And it's nice to know that even way back when, people still double-posted.

Did the president lie and people die?

OK, the last day for vets to reclaim their teams will be Wednesday, August 22. I'll be contacting n00bs at the top of the list if there are available slots a few days before the deadline expires to give them a chance to snag open teams. If I don't hear back from a n00b after a day or two, I'll go down the waiting list until all available spots are filled. First come, first claimed.

8:30 p.m. • So the better half returned the call of the matriarch of the test-tube welfare family and guess what Mrs. kkk was asked? If that abandoned house across the street from us was on the market. Oh hell no. Long story short. Many moons ago, the people who lived in that house died. The family of the deceased never wanted to sell it; however, they never bothered to keep up with maintenance. From what I heard, the furniture and shit is still in there. I’m sure it wouldn’t be a bad little house, but it’s going to need a good deal of work. That being said, there’s not fucking way I want those people living across the street from me. Mrs. Test Tube told the better half that she wants to move from the shithole of a house they bought two years ago and live somewhere in our school district, which is better than the one she’s at now. OK, if you wanted to live in a certain school district, when you already had two kids popped out from your snatch, WHY DID YOU PEOPLE BUY A HOUSE IN A DIFFERENT SCHOOL DISTRICT?!?! Jesus tap dancing Christ are these people pathetic. What’s funny is that if any houses are selling on my street they will be going for at least twice the amount of the house the test-tube welfare family currently live in – and these people can’t even keep up with their $300/month mortgage as-is. Not only that, but they will now have to sell the piece-of-shit house they are currently living in, and I bet they’ll be lucky to find a buyer, let alone try to break even on the sale. I swear to Christ I can’t stay around these people for more than five minutes without the urge to take a brick to the side of their collective heads. 2:30 p.m. • So Drudge had the following link headline to an article about Chief Justice John Roberts' fall: Now is the foam from his fall or because the High Court is going to be taking up some more affirmative action/gay marriage/abortion cases? • So I've been hearing about this for a while now and just had to post this hilarity. You may have seen these ads pimping some government health-care program for "the children" called SCHIP (pronounced "chip" whenever I hear it). Oh, no. And this from the state of DICK CHENEY~! How could anybody be against giving "the children" health-care coverage? So does this mean if a 22-year old SCHIP recipient kills someone they could be tried as a youth? 1 p.m. • And now it’s time for the Dr. Laura Call of the Day (or whenever I feel like doing this). Well, it’s not really the call per se, but rather the flashback I got when hearing this guy ask if he did the right thing. Long story short: His aunt is a mega-bitch and neither he nor his soon-to-be better half talk to her. There was some other history, too, but I wasn’t paying that close attention. They decided not to invite the aunt. This pissed off the guy’s mom, who said she no longer wants to be part of the wedding party and does not want to be introduced as his mother. The guy said “OK.” He wanted to know if he was in the right. Both Dr. Laura and I agree that he was. However, what inspired me to write this couple of hundred words was that when it came time for my wedding RSVP guest cards to come trickling in two years ago, I was hoping for quite a few people to say they couldn’t make my special day where the chain around my ankle gets clamped down for good. This way, I had an reason never to deal with them again for the rest of my life. That’s why I don’t visit the test-tube welfare family that I’ve talked about in the past here. However, I still have to attend that Memorial Day outing because that aunt showed up. Sonofabitch. Oh well, at least I have an excuse to ignore my two cousins from my idiot mother’s side for my remaining days. Woo-hoo! 10 a.m. • Just heard on the radio that Robin Roberts has breast cancer. I remember watching her and Bob Ley on ESPN's Sunday SportsCenter back in the early 1990s. She's moved onto a network morning anchoring gig, and, although she's a commie and part of the mainstreamliberalpress, I always had a soft spot for her when thinking back to my formative years and remembering her talk about the day's sports headlines. Thank God she doesn't have to talk about "Who's Now" or any of that other shit going on now at that place. The first thing that comes to mind when hearing Roberts' name is this annual report ESPN does every year about some college football player crippling some other player in the South and how the one athlete visits the other's grave each year. At the end of this report, Roberts was trying to hold back her tears, and was doing a poor job at it. Nothing to be ashamed over. The radio update said the cancer was detected early, so you go, girlfriend. 8:15 a.m. • So I'm listening to Monday's Dennis Miller radio show, and at the end of the first hour this caller Bob from New York is calling Dennis a puppet for the RIGHT-WING and that he's getting paid by the usual suspects, etc. Dennis asks him why he's so angry, and Bob just starts bitching with the usual you-get-paid-by-Bush talking points. Bob calls again during the second hour and says Dennis can't tell how anyone can be "angry" by just a phone call, or something like that. "I'm going to suggest, Dennis, that you do not have the abilty to infer how angry I or anybody is from the words they say..." "Bob, bye-bye. You're the first caller I cut off in four months. You know why? You're an idiot. Don't call back." Funny stuff.

I don't know him, but there's a guy who calls Boortz's show who is a real piece of work. He's from Montana and EVERYTHING he talks about goes back to making pot legal. From the way he sounds, you can tell he's a law-breaker when it comes to this subject.

8 p.m. • So the baseball HOF ceremonies were this weekend, and one of my all-time favorite players, Tony Gwynn, got inducted. As a kid, there were a handful of baseball “heroes” I had during the 1980s. They were Gwynn, George Brett, Carlton Fisk and Fernando Valenzuela. That's all I got. Tony's the man. • Oh I can’t wait to see how this shit gets enforced. This part made me laugh. • And speaking of enforcing laws, this shit blew my mind earlier this week. So local governments aren’t allowed to take measures to stop the invasion and have to rely on the FEDERAL GOVERNMENT? God help us all. Also, I have no clue what political party Hazleton's mayor is, but if he would run for governor I'd vote for him. • It’s bad enough parents don’t have time for their kids, but now they don’t have time for dogs? Actually, this isn’t such a bad idea. I’d rather have someone rent-a-pooch for a few hours each week than have them buy a dog only to take it to the pound a few months later when the owner discovers that canines like to do things like walk and poop outside. And, unlike children, I'm sure the dogs don't care where they end up each day as long as they associate "home" with the business' kennel. • I’m sure you can make a variety of cock jokes with this one. If only they had choked their chickens, those guys wouldn't be dressed like one.

Al, you do know that they're illegal, right?

8:45 p.m. • Way to pick your battles there, son. I don't blame Vick's sponsors one bit. Every minute they stay with Vick they are losing money by appearing to be supporting the Falcons quarterback. And Google makes this sort of thing way too easy. • So here's number one in the celebs-die-in-threes game. During the '95 GOVERNMENT SHUTDOWN he said some things on his cBS show that pissed me off, so ever since then I said "fuck him." Same goes for that left-wing twat Peter Gammons. Here's number two. Peace out, dawg. Being from Shittsburgh, people from this area HATED the 49ers during the late 1980s because we knew they were going to catch up to our beloved Stiilers in Super Bowl wins. And you people thought my reasons for hating Gammons above were dumb. So who will be number three? Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo~! 3 p.m. • So I decided to try making microwave popcorn in the office today. Yeah, I think you all know what’s coming next. Microwave popcorn is like an art. Ever the Jew, I try to get the most bang for the buck with the unpopped kernels. However, there is a fine line between popping perfection and burning shit up. That’s why it’s important to know your microwave. This was the first time I used my office microwave for such a task, and this time the machine won. As the popping slowed down, I thought I could Jew a few more pieces out of this single-serving bag. As I hit stop I had a sense of dread, and when I opened up the bag my worst fears became reality. Too long. Fuck. Now most of the popcorn was just fine. However, it takes just a few to stink up an office. Screw the office, it takes just a few to stink up an entire floor. Well, it wasn’t that bad, but none of you were here, so if I said the sprinkler system was unleashed how you know? Well, you probably would because this computer wouldn’t be working. Anyway, I went next door to inform my co-worker that the mighty “popcorn experiment” had failed and won’t be tried out again. Such a shame, really, but oh well. At least I haven’t burnt my soup … yet. Speaking of burning, back in ’98 I worked at a kitchen-stuff store for a few weeks while it was going out of business. One afternoon I put something in the break-room microwave. I can’t remember what it was, but I do know that I severely underestimated the power of this heating beast and burnt the food all to shit. Sonofabitch. To make matters worse, I stunk up the break room. My bad. I didn’t step away from my mess, but at the same time there were way too many co-workers that took this to heart. I even got told that I “RUINED” a person’s entire day. Jesus Christ. I admitted I fucked up, and if someone would have said, “good going dumbshit,” I would have stretched out my arms and told them to keep the insults coming. But “ruining” someone’s day because of it? I think that says more about the other person than it does me. • A note to TSM’s esteemed Mr. Keiper. Put this in your pro-invasion pipe and smoke it. Go Cobb County. Bossman would be proud.

6 p.m. • So I was playing around on IMDB and found this post in a thread titled "Things you learnt from watching this movie?" for the "Wolf Creek" message board. Well, it made me laugh. Oh, yeah. Spoilers and stuff. 10 a.m. • Finally got around to seeing Peter Jackson’s “King Kong.” That’s why you get for messing around with them white girls. • Here is the conclusion to my 3 p.m. entry yesterday about that poem I wrote which got me in a heap of trouble in 11th grade. The class had to write a “senses” poem in a “question and answer” format. Basically, you had to write a line in the form of a question that dealt with one of the five senses – taste, touch, smell, sight and hearing. After each line you had to have a “yes” or “no” answer. After 10 lines of this shit you had to do a line in the form of a question and then the other in the form of an answer. Sounds stupid? You bet. I also found it funny that in a class called “creative writing” you had these draconian rules to follow whenever you wrote something, but I digress. Anyway, my hippie poem was about a couple walking on the beach, and I had stupid lines like, “Will you look deep into my eyes while the moon reflects off the crashing waves?” “Yes.” …or some hippie shit like that. When I got to my last “sense” it dealt with the chick asking the guy if he’d hold her hand or something similar. Here’s how my last four lines went that got me in trouble. Remember, after this question and answer, I need to follow that up with another Q&A line. “Will you hold my hand *blahblahblahhippieshit*.” “No.” “Why not?” “I have no arms.” There you have it. When my classmate, who was as big a slacker as I was, asked to read my poem (I wasn’t allowed to read this in class), the teacher stormed over to him, grabbed the sheet of paper, crumpled it up and threw it in the trash. Where’s the ACLU when you really need them? I also had this woman for a public speaking class the year before, and that was some fun right there. There was one project where I was in a group of five and the assignment was this 20-minute panel debate over a topic of our choice. You needed two people on one side of the argument, two people on the other side and a moderator. Our group, which was made up of slackers just like me, picked “censorship.” My role was to be moderator. We had several class periods to work on this project, and all we did was sit there and bullshit. After a few days, we realized that we had nothing done so we worked on an “intro.” By “intro” I’m not talking about opening remarks. No. We were going to pretend this was a late-night talk show and we were thinking up ways to introduce the program. We were the last group to do our presentation, and the four-five groups before were made up of actual students who cared about their academic achievement. After the first day when the first two groups did their presentations, we suddenly realized we were in a world of shit. The day before our presentation, I frantically tried to make an outline of who was going to say what about our topic, which was about Free Speech Rights. On the morning of the big debate, we got ready for our intro, which we spent all of our class time preparing. And just what did we do? *Person 1 turns off the lights to the room* “Person 2 plays tape recorder with a voice saying, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, it’s Late Night with KKK.’ Suddenly the Looney Tunes theme comes on.” *Persons 3 and 4 are across the room from each other and swirling flashlights around while theme plays.* *Person 4 (me) moves up to the front. When the theme stops playing, Person 1 turns the lights back on and Person 2 plays the tape of crickets chirping.* Judging from the look on our teacher’s face, this didn’t go over as well as we had hoped. As bad as this was, our actual presentation was even worse. Instead of following the script of Person 1 on the pro-free speech side giving their spiel with Person 1 on the anti-free speech side retorting, it just a free-for-all. And with me as the moderator, I had no clue what the hell everybody was going to say next. Ironically, I had put the most work into this thing (which isn’t saying much mind you) and I got the worst grade out of the five of us. But that was nothing when compared to the next project. The same five of us had to do a “interrogation-type” project where each of us had to be a “prosecutor” and a “defendant” regarding another topic. This project’s topic was obscenity laws. The only thing I remember about this was one person grilling the other and the following ensued. “Person A, you claim some cartoons today are ‘obscene.’” “Yes.” “What about the cartoons of generations before? Were they as bad?” “No.” “How about Walt Disney? Were they ‘obscene.’” “No.” “How about Donald Duck?” “No.” “Even though he has no pants?” Yes, that was the HIGHLIGHT. After we were done, our teacher blasted us for at least 5 minutes about how we didn’t follow any of the rules of the assignment among other things. I don’t remember much of what she said because I was too busy trying to hold in my laughter. But this incidents weren’t as memorable as the public speaking class I told while I was in college. Developing...

Pretty much the same as the teacher. Keep in mind these students actually, you know, did reseach and practiced and stuff.

That has got to be the quote of the year so far. I also loved the taking-pictures-on-the-way-to-the-BBQ idea. In addition, it's "nl-asshole," not "niskie" or "nl5dkla+;jf98=4qu_98j." Besides, we all know who's king of that feud, right? And who would be TSM's "haunted house guy"? My first thought was Agent of Oblivion. Lives in Indiana, has big guns, drives big truck, visited another poster (although not to burn his residence down).