kkktookmybabyaway

Don't worry. When the Pens changed to that "corporate" logo a decade or so ago it eventually got switched back. (I always liked that Penguin.) It can happen in Buffalo, too.

Too bad that Bonds card is now in perfect proportion to the rest of his body. EDIT: Shit, I missed Bored's last line until after I posted. Oh well, it deserves to be said twice.

Yeah. I'd have to spend more time wiping the mess from my grill.

It's a shame we can't run over children and then just say, "but they were in my way."

Well hopefully cancer will ravage his body long enough to deplete whatever savings he has mustered over the years, leaving him penniless before leaving him dead. (No offense, of course, Marvin.)

When I saw your entry title I was going to ask you your opinion of that Reds trade. I still am. So what of it, hippie -- how bad did they get hosed, if they got hosed at all?

Then bust 'em on that. But it sounds like they're probably going to do something to your cats sooner or later.

Is the fact I have no idea what KOAB linked to a good thing or a bad thing? And I wonder if this tradition will stay in place when Seattle moves into Dama territory?

My cats > Palestinians.

Now that I got it I don't want it.

The hell? I was hoping for the sound of machine gunfire after hearing that siren. And what is that mascot supposed to be?

*Raises hand.* Or at least I did when I used to let them out. I'm as pro-cat as they come, but I'm siding with the neighbors on this one, as long as there aren't any double-standards.

• I’ve heard Paul Harvey say a number of things I never thought I’d hear some 100-year old guy reporting the news say. Yesterday was one of those times, what with him starting one story by saying, “Car owners like to pimp up their cars…” • So Arizona, in hopes of bringing more people to the polls, is putting up for a referendum that if passed, would make one lucky person who bothers to vote a million dollars richer. Oh fuck no. First off, I’ve seen people that play the lottery and will only vote just to get a chance to become a millionaire (or whatever the amount is after the winnings are taxed). Believe me, you don’t want these people voting. Well, then again, considering there are a number of commies reading this blog, you probably do. I’m all about repressing the downtrodden. Let them play Powerball, just stay the hell out of my voting booth. While I hear many ads around election time telling people to “get out and vote,” I’m the exact opposite. If you don’t want to vote, then don’t. Chances are if you’re that lazy and stupid, you’ll probably vote Democrat, so stay home, eat your Cheetos and complain about how The Man is holding you back. • Having read Bored's entry about the 1986 college football season, I was taken back to that night Penn State beat Miami in the Fiesta Bowl. It was a terrible night for driving in the Shittsburgh area with snow, sleet and ice everywhere. My half-brother, who was in high school at the time, was driving himself and me (a 10-year old kid) back to my old man’s residence when suddenly he hit some ice and slid into a guardrail. There was quite a hefty dent along the passenger side of the Nissan pickup truck, and we were fortunate enough to have a nearby family that heard the crash come out and offer us assistance. After getting over the initial adrenaline rush that accompanies any automobile accident, we were on our way back home. My half-brother was freaking out the entire time because he was so concerned about dad flipping out on him; I was trying to console him by saying he’ll just be glad that nobody got hurt. I then said, “Just take your time, drive safely and get us home. Then you can worry about it.” I was told years later that I was about three seconds away from being tossed out of the truck at that moment. Why do I bring this up? That PSU/Miami game was playing in the house of that family who took us in for a few minutes just to make sure we were OK. You want analysis of that year’s Top 25 ranking based on win-share totals and which teams ate more fiber at their pre-game meals? Go over to Bored’s place and stay there. You want stupid stories that have no meaning to your life outside of the time you wasted to read 500 or so words worth of gibberish? Then I’m glad not to disappoint ... again. • Oh hell I might as well have some BREAKING NEWS to go with all of this shit. For those that participate in my football contest, I heard from nl-asshole that he probably won't participate this year due to the fact he's a little faggot-ass bitch. So if you were in the league last year and have a team for this year and want to switch over to the Pats, just say dibs. First come first served. And I'll be making an announcement about this year's contest in a few weeks, for those that care.

Have the renamed the place where the local hookers gather the Iola Boylen District? Knock Knock indeed.

Or the college bill. My two favorite years of schooling/meeting different people were during my time at the Community College of Allegheny County. If you are still undecided on what you want to do in terms of a career path, this is your best path.

• Why do I watch this shit? So I had PTI on and Wilbon and LeBa-retard had a segment about Lance Armstrong’s joke at the ESPYs regarding some guy from that Brokeback Mountain movie. I didn’t bother watching the ESPYs because, well, I don’t give a shit about this stupid “awards” show, but they played the Armstrong joke about how it was odd that this actor was sitting in the front because he usually likes it in the rear. Get it? He played a homo. He takes it in the ass. Anyway, the PTI segment was about if this joke was offensive. Wilbon said something that made me laugh more than Armstrong’s joke, which did get a chuckle out of me. Wilbon said the joke was funny and not offensive. LeBa-retard countered with what if the homosexual community is offended by the statement. Wilbon then said that if that was the case then he’ll defer to the homos, but in the meantime he won’t. Hey dipshit, you either think something is offensive or not. If GLAAD or the Buttpluggers of America send out a press release bitching about how Armstrong is a homophobe, you don’t go “Well maybe it was offensive after all.” You either think something is offensive or it isn't. Then again, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised an ESPN talking head is talking out both sides of his ass. • First a Ravens linebacker gets stabbed. Now a Cowboys safety gets shot. Who would have thought it'd be safer for these people to be out on the football field running into other grown men at full speed than it would be to be out in publc? • I talked a while back about this house across from me that has been vacant for a while. Well last week we got new neighbors. Last Tuesday I saw them walking out of the house, and since I my mailbox is next to their house (all the block’s mailboxes are on one side of the road) and introduced myself. I offered my assistance if they needed and left. I really don’t care for neighbors. I have no problem with them, but the thing is I’ve learned that there are a lot of people in this world that want to be left alone. Sure I’m one of these anti-social assholes, but only to a point. I mean, I won’t tell my neighbors to fuck off if they say “hi” to me, but on the other hand I’m not one of these people that likes to engage in stupid small talk. Fortunately, this usually keeps most people away from me, but I digress. Jst about anywhere I lived I had to deal with people that wanted to be left alone, which is fine. When I was in Sappy Valley we were surrounded by college students that did their own things, which is to be expected. In Ohio I lived in a townhouse community and we had one neighbor that shared our front porch who we got along great with. The problem was whenever she moved out due to divorce we had two different sets of tenants that were … interesting. The first one was a guy and his teen-age daughter. He smoked nonstop and you could smell the smoke from his place in our downstairs bathroom. His daughter was a piece of work, too. A few times she BLASTED her stereo at all hours of the morning, and you could always hear her screaming and swearing at her old man. These people didn’t last a year before getting evicted. On the other side of me was this single mom with two spazoid kids and a little yapping dog. I remember the names of the two boys and dog: Matthew, Alex and Baby. How do I know this? Because the mom would always yell at them at the top of her lungs. While the better half hated hearing every little skirmish through our walls, I found it funny as hell. Then when her trucker boyfriend came over we usually heard them having sex, which I actually liked listening to. No, not because I’m some perverted voyeur, but rather because the moaning only lasted for about 20 seconds. I’m not going to brag about my performance in the sack because I’m humble like that, but if you’re an adult male getting poon on a regular basis, you need to last longer than half-a-minute. Goddamn. After moving from Ohio to Pennsylvania, we lived in a duplex with this guy and his girlfriend. The guy was a redneck who was at least two months behind on his rent; I tried getting along with him at first. However, after a short while I just decided, “fuck it” and kept to myself. This place I live at now is good enough for me. I don’t talk to my one set of neighbors with the loudmouth dog, and I get along just fine with the old couple that lives on the other side of my property line. I have no idea how I’ll get along with these new people – from what my old neighbor told me, the husband’s a worker at some half-way house and the wife is a teacher at the local government school. The fact the wife’s a public school teacher tells me there’s probably at least one Democrat in that house; we’ll see when election season comes around and the political signs start getting placed in front yards. I wonder if they will react the same way the previous tenants of that house will should I put a “Rick Santorum,” “Lynn Swann” or “Tim Murphy” (our Republican incumbent Congressman) sign in our yard? (For those that don't remember, these people would always talk to Mrs. kkk, until we put out a "Bush 2004" sign in our yard after they, and a few other neighbors put out Kerry signs.)

Is that near some train tracks or close to "Downtown" Middletown? If memory serves there were a few Subways in the area, but I seem to remember a chicken place around that part of town. And I really didn't miss Skyline/Goldstar; I like chili and all, but I'm happy with hormel (I had some turkey chili last night for dinner, oddly enough). I'm sure it's a regional thing and you have to be around it all your life. If forced to choose I'd give a slight edge to Goldstar over Skyline. What I really miss is O'Charly's.

Perhaps Mrs. Spazoid moved. Where does your sister live? And the trucker boyfriend drove a truck with Indiana plates. The dog is a little white yapping thing. I felt bad for Baby for having to live in that place.

Trinity Place at 122 Clark Street?

O'Charlys was great. There were chains where I lived in Ohio but none in Shittsburgh. Applebee's is harmless enough. Terrible commercials though.

I'm going to defend "Little Man." I haven't seen it, nor have any desire to see it, but it looks harmless enough. I gave up on movie-goers when "Mr. Magoo" sold out in my theater some years back.

I saw what Tom was holding and just moved on.

For some reason the fact this exists scares me. And just reading the words "Bump," "Bigger Jigger" and "Ray King Duck" take me back to a time when life was much simpler.

So I was right.

So I look around occasionally for a side job or something to supplement my income – besides male prostitution, of course. Hell, I like to look around for something to replace my primary source of income, but I digress. A month or so ago I was browsing through Monster (or was it not-so-Hot Jobs?) when I came across this one ad that didn’t look quite the same as the thousand or so “Do you want to make REAL money now?” ads that are ordered by staffing agencies or those multi-level marketing places. I clicked on the link and basically it was a business that offered “cyber tours” of homes for sale. I was initially suspicious, as I always am when looking at jobs through this medium, but I figured oh what the hell. Although the words “minimal investment” shot off a red flag, it also said that it was part-time and that I can make my own hours. Hey, I work 6:30 a.m. - 3 p.m.; if I got to do this in the mid-afternoon whenever I wanted to during the workweek, I'd be a happy camper. A week or so later I came home from work and played a message on the answering machine from some guy about this job. I called him back and we started talking. He seemed like a nice enough guy, and I was told that I would be employed on a contract basis, and I’d make $25-40 per each photo shoot. There was some mileage reimbursement, but that was only if the price of a gallon of gasoline went above a certain amount. That didn’t really bother me though, what shot off every red flag in my arsenal though was when talked about the “minimal investment.” $1800. I knew this would probably be where I get the rare opportunity to say in a job interview “Don’t call me, I’ll call you,” and sadly it was. As he finished his spiel and explained what the $1800 was for – company-specific camera, laptop, software and other equipment – I began punching up numbers on the handy calculator I had nearby because I knew I was going to use during this conversation. I noted to him that in order to pay off that $1800 “minimal investment” I would have to take pictures of 72 houses for $25 per shot. On the low end, if every house I took pictures of had a $40 bill, I would have to go on 45 different trips. I also said that if I were to go on five “assignments” per week (which is the figure he said I'd average to start out), I would have to work 2-4 months to pay off this “minimal investment.” I also noted that I wasn’t even including the taxes I'd be paying in any of these assessments, or the cost of wear-and-tear on my vehicle. When we wrapped this phone interview up, I was “offered” this job, but like I said before, I got to be on the giving end of this rejection offer, which is a nice feeling considering all the times in the past I have been given the old, “Your resume is very impressive, but you suck and we found someone else to do the job we advertised for in the newspaper, but we'll keep your resume 'on file' just so you can get out of our lives forever and leave us alone” rejection letter. So for that feeling alone, the whole experience was worthwhile.