Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Schmoopie Insisted I Post This...

So today at lunch, we were walking downtown and passed within eyesight of a Kenneth Cole store and they were changing the 2 story sign on the building with a new ad featuring a waifish crack-whore looking Kate Moss analog. She didn't have enough junk in her trunk to fill up her little hot pants. It was sad for an ass man like me to witness. I said to Schmoopie that the model was unappealing, and that I'd bet that her pussy lips were like Pringles.

She lost it.

Butchering The Language Part XXII

Goddamned idiots everywhere are fucking rubbing of on me and it's pissing me off. I've confessed before how I can't seem to say the word "probably" (comes out "probly" or "prolly" *shudder*) and this is a character flaw, but there is another grammatical train wreck that's EVERYWHERE.

Remedial lesson-

"There is" applies to single items. Examples- There is a dog. There is a city in France called Paris.

"There are" applies to multiple items. Examples- There are some cars. There are crazy people in Colorado Springs.

"There's" is a contraction of "There is" and "There're" would be a contraction of "There are" (but it's awkward)

That being said, would everyone kindly stop saying shit like "There's people in the kitchen" or other mismatched bullshit?

You wouldn't do this to the word "Where" (such as "Where's your mom?" or "Where're the tacos?") would you?

President Dumbass routinely kills the language, and this is one of his weapons. Here is a recent example: "Obviously, there's concerns about the decisions I have made regarding Iraq, and I understand that." No you boob- There ARE.

Jesus fucking Christ this is ubiquitous and I caught myself screwing up the other day. Grrr.


Sunday, February 25, 2007

Would You Like To Sniff The Cap?

Schmoopie and I go through quite a bit of red wine, judging by our recycling bin. As were in new territory, we're trying new things, and this includes local vineyards and labels that we hadn't seen in Colorado. So far, there have been one or two pleasant surprises, but that's not what this post is about. This post is about a vile swill that would gut kick you in a New York Minute. Schmoopie found it somewhere, or it was planted in her shopping by nefarious shadowy characters while she was otherwise engaged. The angry fluid could not be harnessed by something as organic and wholesome as cork, and so a threaded cap was responsible for containing this toxic elixir and keeping the environment safe from contamination.

Upon breaking the seal, an unwelcome exhale of decay and pain jetted into the room, and poked our sinuses with pointy poo-laiden barbs of humid cruelty. This was not a wine to be trifled with. The "Big Red House" it would seem is a home run over with the blood of the innocents. Not since a World Series bet was begrudgingly paid off to me with a railroad/flood salavage bottle of blush (complete with an E.P.A. label warning the consumer that the bottle was distressed, and that the consumer is advised against ingesting the contents) has this much unamusing nastiness been brought into my home.

No, we didn't drink it. I had concerns about pipe damage in pouring it down the drain.

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Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Bad Week Shaping Up...

Rough week at work, and I find out that a good friend who'd been ill for a spell has died back in Colorado.

Phil Hogue

Knowing you was my privilege.

Monday, February 19, 2007

What Is It With That Guy, Stucco Anyway?

Many people seek explanations from me about how I became and why I am the way I am. To these people I usually plead the fifth and move along, but from time to time I indulge thier curiosity. I once asked a man named Travis Shakespeare how he ended up the way he was, an he answered in a booming voice common to stage actors "I am this way [dramatic pause] as a result of arguing with tuk-tuk drivers in Thailand!" I always liked that answer, but am loathe to rip off such a cool motherfucker.

Here's my daily stab at a self-realized neo-hippy bullshit explanantion: I'm an openly perverted, pleasantly vulgar, overly observant and disinterested gimp of a man. Gimp? Yes, gimp. I'm wounded. Schmoopie posted a day-1 pic of the damage that's visible, but things have blossomed since then. She took and posted a day-3 pic, that also featured my filthy nutsack, to the horror of the world (since removed). Now, I've written about my nutsack before in gory details, and am far from bashful (although perhaps I should be, now that I'm so far past my prime), but if I wanted pictures of my package on the net, I would NOT want them anywhere near this god foresaken bruise. You know- I'd want favorable lighting and all...

I am however, the sort of man that will go into the handicapped stall of the bathroom at work, and drop my pants, hike my hula girl underpants, and take a picture of myself with my phone, and post the picture online. It's not pretty- this isn't the soft lighting that would be suitable for genital photography. It's the harsh drunk-tank, toilet at the gas station kind of lighting that amplifies shock and horror. Consider yourself warned (plus, the bruise is really gross too).

Click here to see the cruelty.

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Thursday, February 15, 2007

Car Meme Theeng

Reading Hammer's blog entry about various cars he's owned, the idea of this meme came to mind- name the car (of those you've owned) that you wish you had back, name the one that you wish you never had, and maybe the car that you'd get if money were no object. He's breaking that into seperate write-ups, but I'm a whole lot lazier than he is, plus I'm really hurting still from the fall.

Car I wish I had back. This was a tough one, as I still really love and miss my Vanagon

But that thing has/had the single dumbest engine ever mass produced. It's a "boxer" engine, which isn't in and of itself a problem- that merely means that the pistons travel staight towards one another. Some engines are "V" shaped, but this one was a "T" shape. Big whoop- Subaru makes boxers that are fine. In the case of the Vanagon, this was a Porsche design that was screwed with by monkies. Take a Porsche 6 cylinder boxer, and lop off one third of the engine, so that it's really weak, then build it badly, then stick it in the heaviest vehicle you can find. Brilliant.

At any rate, this requires a special skillset not found many places. We spent $5K on a new engine on this deal and it lasted a little over a year. Suck. I still love the design, but never again will I deal with that. Been thinking about a '70's style bus tho...

No, in the end, I'd want my MG back.

I bought it in '86 and it had 20K miles on it and was in really good shape. I paid $500. It had been sitting in a garage for 10 years and eventually was owned by a chief of police in a neighboring town. He was busted for making book, and the car was auctioned to a classmate of mine, and I bought it from her for what she'd paid. It didn't run much, and having just been properly screwed by a Datsun and a Toyota (apparently, everyone has good luck with Toyota's but me), I was loathe to put any money into the MG. Turns out this was a mistake, as the guy I sold it to reported great success with it- better than any of his other MG's. *sigh*

The car I wished I'd never owned was my first car which I inherited after my grandmother died.

What a gawdawful turd excreted from the empire of the rising sun. The 1973 Datsun model 610 four door in baby blue. Not only was it ugly, smelling of grandmotherly things, noisy and expensive to operate, it had the most psychotic carbuerator ever "thought" up. It fed fuel in horizontally mostly by air draft, which was also intended to oxygenate before falling into the engine. Seriously. Someone must have mentioned "suck" in the design phase and some brain damaged engineer took that as a suggestion for the fuel flow. It was a free car, and I emptied my savings on keeping the damned thing running. That prevented me from buying lots of drugs and alcohol, and didn't help at all in compromising the girlies. It was a failure on all fronts.

Okay, on to dream cars. I'm going to chat and name a list (well hey- money being no object, right?)

#1 Talbot Lago

Just like that- and it looks like Ecure Ecosse blue- my favorite color for European cars. Problem here is that there is a limited and diminishing supply of these.

#2 Duesenberg Speedster

Well, it was that or a Stutz.

#3 Bugatti Veyron

Yeah, I know- pretentious and fashionable, but a W16 engine? I'd have to try that.

#4 TVR Tuscan S

I have a soft spot for British sportscars, what can I say?

#5 Jaguar E-Type

In either British Racing Green, or Ecurie Ecosse blue.

Bonus material-

Cars that I might actually end up getting one day:

#1 Old Volvo P1800

I like a Swedish car with fins- a real anachronism, like me.

#2 1988 Mercedes Benz 560SL (V8)

The SL series like this ran through 1988, and I remember all through high school wanting one of these desperately, and wishing I'd be rich enough to afford one. At the time, this little number would set you back about $45-50K. Now they can be had for $10K-ish. I suspect that this is close to a "bottoming out" price and will climb before long as they are collectable and the supply is fading.

Okay, so I'm not going to tag anyone on this, as I sort of pressed it on Hammer in the first place, but I'd be interested to hear feedback, even if it's only in list format.

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

I Fell Down... Went "Boom!"

For Z's big number 7 we went to the pool, where I made every effort to kill myself. It stared with me trying to enter the pool gracefully. I leaned to the left and intended to put my hand on the tile edging and that was about all I needed to do. My hand slid on the incredibly slippery tile and I fell on my left hip and bent my arm behind me at a bad angle as I then bounced into the water to the amazement of little children nearby. In one swift motion I think I may have dislocated my shoulder, and created such swelling on my hip, that if it were further toward my backside people might think I have an ass. While I have no doubt that the swelling will beget some colorful bruising, it's my shoulder that's killing me most of all. I can't hardly use my left arm today.

But that wasn't my only abandonment of gracefulness yesterday. I also was diving (they have a high dive at the local pool, which is cool and uncommon) on a REALLY springy board and ended up scraping my nose on the concrete bottom of the pool.

Today in summary- Had to get up early for work. Crippled. Red nosed.

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Monday, February 12, 2007


I'm so happy I don't have to hate the Chargers anymore. They've come to their senses and fired Satan. Now the question is who will be the next miserable team to sell out to ole Marty. And as an aside- Dallas hired Wade Philips? What the?

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Consequences Schmonsequences, So Long As He's Rich...

So, thinking fondly of the taxes we have to pay this year (thanks to Schmoopie for doing the taxes), and listening to the testimony of L. Paul Bremer and hearing him talk money, I'm miles beyond disgusted. I'm so fed up with the grift, idiocy, jingoism, and pointless sensational outrage of our elected officials, I'm ready to pardon those D.C sniper guys with the understanding that they only target politico's. Maybe the Fox News and CNN tards too. Why isn't anyone upset? Why isn't anyone saying anything? Where are the riots in the streets? What the fuck? Aren't there any REAL patriots anymore?

You may remember the 8 BILLION FUCKING DOLLARS that got "lost" in Iraq. Well, that's chump change my friends, and we're the chumps. They shoveled 363- that's three hundred and sixty three TONS of $100 bills over there and DIDN'T KEEP TRACK OF IT. Only our idiot filled government could deal with money by the pound (no- not Pound, like Pound Sterling). I'd like to stop paying now please. I'm starting to think that there is not one thing I'm getting for my money that I like. I don't trust the FDA, FTC, ATF, FBI, CIA- any thing that's an acronym and ends its website in ".gov", and I'm tired of underwriting things that don't work and have no credibility or accountability. If I did my job the way the government does, I'd be fired years after it was obvious that I hadn't been working, people would be dead, the nation in ruins, and I'd be a billionaire.

Remember the words of our leaders- "Ask not what your big-brother-overlord-guardian-corporate-plutocratic-oligarchy can do for you, ask what you can do for your big-brother-overlord-guardian-corporate-plutocratic-oligarchy."


Tuesday, February 06, 2007

Bat Shit Crazy Woman In Space

Spreading lunacy across the cosmos

Maybe I'm shallow, but this story is cracking me the hell up. This woman is a special kind of nuts, and I can respect that. The next time I drive a long interstate, I'll be wondering how many women drivers are holding diapers up to their snootches so they don't have to stop to pee. And she's married with three kids. I'd call that divorce a slam dunk. Plus, what does it say about NASA (over and above my previous ranting about how everything they do anymore is glorified poking at shit with a stick) that they can't even find "can do" astronauts/astronuts. When I am talking about the best- I mean the best at all challenges. This crazy broad should have been able to abduct, hogtie, dice and slice, whatever- this other gal. How on earth did she withstand all that g-force stress and crap, and can't even kidnap another woman who was alone? I would LOVE to hear her explaining her plans. Where are the movies based upon this true story?

And I wonder if she had zero-G sex with that other astronaut guy?

She's astro-naughty.

Friday, February 02, 2007

Go Ahead, Be Offended

So at various colleges and universities, some white-as-white-bread kids got together and had parties with gangsta/ghetto themes. "Bling and Bubbly" as one instance called it. On the MLK holiday too. Okay. Que the overreactions.

So I'm the first to admit that as a white guy, I'm probably wildly unaware of how much more unpleasant life can be with darker skin color. I'm also an adult male and don't have a screaming case of vaginitis.

What I think may not be appreciated by the black community (See footnote) is that white people are, by and large, operating from a style deficit. That's why when a style is adopted by whites, it's no longer cool. As a result, white people are always ready to rip off another culture. No sense in whining about it.

So they want to have a gangsta-style party. Fine. Here's the standard: this is only okay under if these two conditions are true:

1.) If these future-soccer-moms and "daddy got me my job" mouth breathers HAVE any black friends, they must invite them and explain the theme. If they don't have the balls to look a black person in the eye and spell this out- they don't have the character to pull it off.

2.) The inverse must be acceptable. If a bunch of students at say, one of the historically black colleges like Grambling decided to have an Enron party, or country club party, or whatever the fuck white people do that is worth mimicing, would THAT be okay? If the crowd at Grambling wanted throw a party where they all dressed in lots of polyester and drink wine coolers and Zima, and talk about fucking golf, more power to them- although my bet is that ANY other party idea would be more fun.

So if these two conditions are met, let the dumbasses do their thing. Yes, I think having a party like this on the MLK holiday is in bad taste, but here's the bottom line- it's legal and permissable to be an inconsiderate asshole. Why on earth some offended party thinks that a private gathering merits an institutional investigation, or what outcome they hope to see is a mystery. These young people are not enlightened, and judging by the party photos that beget this nonesense, they aren't interesting either. Best avoided in any event.

And, while I'm thinking of it- if these gangsta fashions are desparaging to black people, why doesn't anyone within the black community tell the black people who are the source of this? Oops. Not even Bill Cosby gets to ask that.

Note: No- I'm not being intentionally provocational by failing to use the word "African-American". All but one of the black people I know are not from, and have never been to Africa. So long as I am "white", they can be "black. I've gone round after round with a black friend over this subject, and she assures me that I'm mistaken, but understands that I'm trying to rationalize an emotional matter, and am not doing so out of malice. I still fail to understand how "African-American" is appropriate or sensible. Where is the corrollary? How am I a caucasian-American? I'm not decended from the people of Caucasia, nor have I ever been there. It's all a ridiculous verbal circle jerk that I see no reason to use. I'm from the US, just like Jesse Jackson, and that makes us both the same, except for our skin color. And if it were really that big of a deal, wouldn't the NAACP, United Negro College Fund, Congressional Black Caucus, Historically Black Colleges and Universities, and the others that don't immediately spring to mind using more antiquated names have updated their names?

Related Rant: I am also told to avoid using the word "oriental" to describe a person. I'm sorry- I'm going to push back on this one too. Not only do I not use the word to be perjorative or mean spirited, it's fucking accurate. Asia (as in "asian", which they would have me use) is a BIG FUCKING CONTINENT. Look it up. I know that most of us from public schools have a poor grasp of geograpy and are easily duped by the PC police, but this is absurd. Asia Minor, for example is a geologically and historically significant part of Asia, is populated with Persians, Arabs, Kurds, and Turks, plus whatever smaller ethnic groups that are under my cultural radar. None are "Asian" in the sense of say, Korean, Japanese, Chinese, Laotian, Cambodian, Vietnamese, or any other ethnicity that might be described as being of the Orient. Now, to be specific, the Orient is a debated term without specific boundaries, like the "Western World" (and I expect it's use in colonial times lead to this issue) in that some include Persia and some don't. I don't know that it matters, and here's why- it doesn't include Russians. Yeah, you know Russia? That nation that covers most of Asia? Yeah. You may see where I'm going here. Calling a guy from Japan "Asian" is about as specific as calling him "Russian" or "Earthling" and it's a useless concession to over-sensitivity.

Alright, so if you think I have my head up my ass on this (wouldn't be the first time) feel free to set me straight.

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