November 30, 2004
out of touch
I sat around the beach on Sunday and felt lonely. I moved from the Hotel Robelar to the Canciones Del Mar that morning and I liked my new digs a lot better than the old ones. I had a TV, air conditioning and hot water now. All I needed to complete the perfect picture was a woman to keep me company.
I decided to get one. I figured that if I could find dope for Herve without even looking for it, I could find myself a woman if I asked The Right Person. That's one of the tricks about Costa Rica. You can engage in any kind of vice you want, but you need to ask The Right Person first.
People here do not act the way Jamaicans do, crawling out of bushes and doing everything short of an open-field tackle to get you to buy what they're selling. Costa Ricans are more subtle. YOU have to ask first. If you ask The Right Person, you're exactly where you want to be.
I went down to a street (called "Calle de Putas" by the locals-- but I didn't know that until later) and I saw a well-dressed, greasy-haired, important-looking guy standing on the corner. I walked up and asked him where I could find some nice company for the next couple of days.
That was easy. He shouted "Oye! Muchachas!" and three absolutely beautiful wimmen appeared from out of nowhere. I asked "how much?" and greasy-guy told me that the girls set the deals--- you make your own bed, so to speak, and he stays out of the negotiations.
I picked a short, shapely black woman, a genuine Caribe, and I've been lost in a time/space continuum ever since. Her name is Rosemary. She has been a most entertaining partner and we settled on a price of 40,000 colones (less than $100) for two days, which was a bargain at the price, even if I did feed her, water her and buy some clothes for her, too. Just having fun, that's all.
She's gone today to visit her mama in San Jose, but she wants to see me again tomorrow. That sounds good to me, because I could use a day off after some really intense sport-fucking. I leave here on Thursday and I wouldn't mind going out with a bang.
Rosemary likes "la machine," which is her name for the bionic Roscoe. She tried her best to wear it out, but she lost that battle. I endeavored to persevere and I came out on top--- to use an apt phrase. And I'll tell you something else, too. If Costa Rican wimmen fake their enjoyment of sex, they are the best actors I've ever seen.
I learned a lot over the past two days. I will share some of the details when I get back home.
November 27, 2004
I went ahead and booked my flight back home for December 2nd. I think Delta's gouging me on the price for a one-way ticket, but I'll pay it just for peace of mind. I have a ride to the airport and a seat on a plane, so I'm happy. All decisions are made.
More decisions... What to eat last night? Have a steak or go to the "Lobster-Fest" down the street? Guess which one I picked?
After I rolled out of the lobster fest with a belly full of shellfish, I took a few pictures and waddled back to my room for the night. Man, I was full. If I stayed here for six months, I'd be fat as a hog.
I can't find Alia. Maybe I'll see her during my wandering today.
I think I'm gonna eat "The Best Chicken In Costa Rica" tonight. But that's a decision I'll put off until later.
November 26, 2004
I ate breakfast at a place called The Sunrise Cafe this morning. It proclaims to offer "The Best Breakfast In Jaco," and I can't argue with that brag after trying the food. Eggs, bacon, rice & beans, fried potatoes, fried plantains, assorted fresh fruit and toast, all for 1,200 colones (about $3.00). THAT was a breakfast.
I met a guy named Herve there. He is from Florida and he came to Costa Rica to get a face-lift. He's about 60 years old (OLDER THAN I AM!!!) and I think he might be gay--- but that's immaterial. He's getting his face lifted here because it's about 1/2 the price of the same thing in the United States. I have heard that a lot of people have plastic surgery in Costa Rica because of the inexpensive price.
Herve also asked me about buying some reefer here in Jaco. (I guess I look like an old-timer who knows how to find dope.) I told him that I had never bought any weed here before, but I ALSO never tried to buy ANYTHING that I COULDN'T get here. I suggested that we take a walk and I would help him look for some smoke.
We went down a side road near the beach where surf shops and small cafes are crammed together like sardines in a can. I saw what seemed to be a transfer of cash for a plastic bag full of something green occurring in a small alcove next to a "One-Hour Ding Repair" sign. I walked over and told the young man taking the money that my friend wanted something to smoke. I introduced him to Herve.
That was easy. How much do you want? I've got it right here.
I left before the deal was consummated, but I gathered that Herve was going for a full ounce for $80 US. I hope he ended up happy with his purchase. I probably could have dickered the price down some if I had been interested in doing it, but I left Herve on his own for that part.
Now I know how to buy dope in Costa Rica. Just damn!
If You've Seen One
...you've seen the mall.
Driving home this morning, listening to an Atlanta news station, the traffic reports weren't about the roads, they were about the mall parking lots.
Why would anyone actually like going shopping on the busiest shopping day of the year? Fighting the traffic, finding a parking space in the same time zone, walking over the fallen to get into the stores...
As Yogi Berra once said, "Nobody goes there anymore -- it's too crowded."
Or, to make it comply with Gut Rumbles Standards & Practices, "Nobody goes there anymore -- it's too FUCKING crowded."
Posted by McGehee.
My assault on the Fortress Inga was unsuccessful last night. We had a nice meal together and I planned to seduce her. I turned up the old Acidman cham to warp factor 10, and I launched everything from photon torpedoes to maximum phasers at her. I think I threw in a couple of disrupter beams, too.
But Inga had her shields up and she repulsed every attack I made. She actually wanted to SLEEP instead of "go to bed" last night. Oh well. You win some and you lose some, but the game is always fun to play. I walked her back to her room at 9:00 last night and left after a very polite and demure kiss.
I didn't feel like going to sleep after we parted, so I went down to the beach to gamble. Unfortunately, the casino where I won all that money playing blackjack last time here is no longer a casino. It's a "Beach Entertainment Center" now, with an armed guard out front and late 70s disco music blasting out the door. I didn't go there.
I went to a little bar on the beach to have a beer. I walked in, sat down on a stool, and the bartender said, "Oye, Old Timer! What'll you have?"
"Old Timer." Fuck! Do I REALLY look that old? Is THAT what went wrong with Inga? She didn't want to sport with an "old timer?"
I didn't get laid but I DID get insulted last night. That bartender blew the hell out of his goddam tip with that "Old Timer" remark. I shoulda dragged his ass over the bar and laid a good whuppin' on him for his audacity. I shoulda beat the shit out of him. I shoulda...
I shoulda done just what I did, which is drink a beer and leave. I am too old for bar-fights anymore and I might hurt my back. I have to face reality every now and then, no matter how young I think.
I'm a goddam old-timer.
November 25, 2004
life goes on
I am in Jaco now.
I caught my ride right on time this morning, but the van broke down on the road and left me stranded at a small cafe on a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean 35 km from Jaco. You know how my yuppie ass hates it when a schedule goes awry, so I
I also started taking pictures today. I'm gonna make a real statement on this blog: Costa Rican wimmen are BEAUTIFUL, and I am gathering the proof. So far, I have asked 30 wimmen to pose for me and all 30 agreed. I haven't been slapped yet, either. These aren't porno shots---just smiling Costa Rican wimmen--- but if you see the pictures and have pornographic thoughts, I won't blame you. Costa Rican wimmen do that to a zesty man.
I have a nice room right on the beach. I rented it for seven days, at $20 per night, which means that I won't be making my scheduled flight home on schedule, which is very frightening for a schedule-freak yuppie such as myself, who wants everything scheduled, according to Recondo. Of course, he's off bitching and lost somewhere, while I'm staying at the beach in a town I know well. Who is the asshole here?
I don't know how to get in touch with Rick and Georgia, but I imagine that when I don't show up at the airport on Sunday, they'll figure out that I'm either dead or being a well-scheduled yuppie. I really don't care what they think.
Fuck 'em. I'm going home when I feel like it and not one minute before. Yup THAT, and stick that schedule stuff up your ass!!! Enjoy fighting in the rental car, cussing each other and seeing Costa Rica at 60 kilometers per hour, you sophisticates.
I'm going out to dinner tonight with Inga and I intend to see an old friend named Ailea tomorrow. If things go according to my "schedule" I may get laid by three different wimmen in four days. Not bad for an old goat.
I LOVE Costa Rica!!!
November 24, 2004
I´m supposed to go see Fernanda in two hours. I´m not sure I want to go. When I met her last night, I thought she was about 30 years old. She is very beautiful, with skin the color of a fresh-picked pecan and one of the brightest smiles I´ve ever seen. Her eyes are wide, limpid and very attractive. Yes, she is a goddess.
But she´s ALSO 20 years old. My goddam DAUGHTER is older, and once I learned how young Fernanda was, I really felt like a cradle-robber. That fact didn´t stop me or her from doing the dirty dance last night, but I felt bad about it today. I´m not kidding. I did.
I told her that I was an old goat. She said (as nearly as I could translate--- Fernanda speaks no English---), "You are not old. You are ALIVE!¨" I think she also said that I have a light in my eyes that shines like moonbeams on a rusty hubcap on a wrecked car in the summer night, and my smile should be dragged off and shot for crimes against humanity. My Spanish isn´t that good, but I think that´s what she said. Something about me attracted her. Hell, she liked the way I sang ¨"Hotel California."
I´ll probably be there. I´ll do that even if it´s just to say goodbye. I owe her that respect.
I walked the streets of La Fortuna today and found myself down some scruffy alley around lunchtime. I could smell something good cooking, so I followed my nose and wound up at a little cafe/bar that the locals really seem to like. All the construction workers and bus drivers showed up there to eat.
I had something called "Sailor´s Rice," as near as I could translate from the menu. I believe that they make that stuff in an industrial-sized cement mixer out back and put it on plates with a snow-shovel. They almost needed a fork lift to bring me my meal. That plate was LOADED with rice, shrimp, fish, chicken, beef, sausage and assorted vegetables. I ate until I thought I would bust and the plate STILL looked loaded when I was finished. Muy Grande.
Why aren´t Costa Ricans fat from eating such food?
Costa Rica has more pretty wimmen per square inch than anyplace else I´ve ever been. Maybe they aren´t all 10s, but the 9 and 1/2s are EVERYWHERE. My face gets tired from gawking at them.
I also see no reason to ever get in a hurry or become pissed off here. According to Rick and Georgia, I´m that way because I am a "yuppie" and I like my life scheduled. I don´t understand the REAL Costa Rican experience of clusterfuckdom, fightdom and fitdom in a rental car that resembles a kid´s purple high-topped basketball shoe, but with worse suspension. Bwhahaha!!! Whatever. They´d rather scream at each other while lost in a rental car going bat-out-of-hell to nowhere, speaking not a word of Spanish nor making any attempt to learn, stressing, yelling and making those obnoxious tooth-sucking sounds that they like so much than be a "yuppie" like me. Fine.
I don´t think I´m going back home on time. I´m supposed to be at the San Jose airport on Sunday, but I don´t believe that I will make that flight. I´m gonna hang around for another week or so, maybe longer. I enjoy "La Pura Vida" and my yuppie ass likes using the bus or a taxi to get where I want to go. As long as it´s all "scheduled," don´t you know.
I believe that I´ll see Fernanda tonight-- I just don´t know for how long or what for. I believe that I´ll be in Jaco tomorrow. I also believe that I will have a good time no matter what I decide to do.
I really like it here.
I parted company with my dear friends this morning. They hopped in the rental car and went off for another eight hour day of driving, cussing and bitching-- which seems to be their idea of how to enjoy Costa Rica--- and they abandoned me alone in La Fortuna. I was so distraught by the experience that I fucked around taking pictures of the volcano and eating a Tico breakfast this morning, worrying about how I was going to survive, and I missed the last bus to Jaco today by the time I finally got around to checking on one.
I was so upset by THAT experience that I made reservations on the bus for tomorrow and rented my room here for one more night. Alone. Adrift. All by myself. In Costa Rica. Auntie Em! Auntie Em! I think I´m gonna die!
I made a new friend last night. Her name is Fernanda and I completely charmed her britches off by singing Karaoke in a local bar. The old Silver Throat still attracts the ladies. She´s another reason I don´t mind spending another night here. I won´t exactly be by myself.
I do have one problem. After all the rain along the Caribbean beaches, my clothes are beginning to smell like sweaty feet. I intend to wash them once I get to Jaco, but for now, I´m going to buy some after-shave and mask my musk that way. Then, I´ll smell like sweaty feet drenched in Old Spice. That works for me.
Anyway, I´m just checking in. Y´all keep playing.
November 23, 2004
I'm in a secure, undisclosed location for the next few days, from which blogging appears to be a more difficult proposition than I had expected. So while I'm stuffing my face with holiday feast food, I'll be all but AWOL from guest-blogging. Maybe I'll make this an open thread`and let the inmates run the asylum until I get back to my own bugbox.
Posted by McGehee.
i am alive
I have just a few words to place here before I go off to... be Costa Rican again.
1. Anybody who says the Caribbean coast is a shit hole either has never been there or is one hell of a lot more snobby than I am.
2. My guest blogger promised cats, and he delivered. I cannot heap profanity on his head, because he warned me ahead of time. I got what I asked for.
3. Rick and Georgia are two of my dearest friends in this world. They are like family to me. But I will NEVER go on another trip such as this with them, because right now, I want to KILL THEM BOTH!!! With a machete. In their sleep. Bejus on a fucking bicycle. If I hear Georgia bitch one more time (I counted seventeen seperate bitches during a ten minute drive last night) or if I see Rick pitch another four year old boy hissy fit over nothing, I´m gonna go ballistic. I don´t come to Costa Rica to be with the Battling Cramdens.
4. Spammers had fun while I was away. I had to pay for the privilege, and it took some time, but I deleted every bit of that shit they tracked all over my site. I told you assholes before: I´m not gonna let you win.
5. Internet has been available where I´ve been, but I just haven´t bothered to use it. I am on vacation.
I´m alright, and having a wonderful time. Wish you were here.
November 22, 2004
Carnival of the Guts
As in, my guts and those of Omnibus Driver, which may be scattered far and wide when Acidman returns. Why?
<evil, maniacal cackle>
Two thugs broke into a home in metro Atlanta Saturday. Only one survived.
I call that a start.
Posted by McGehee.
Who Asked You!?
Iraq Election May Yet Be Postponed: Arab Ministers Agence France-Presse
You got nothing to say about it. Iraq is a sovereign country that sure as fuck doesn't need your permission to hold elections. Who the fuck do you do you think you are?
What these crapgeysers are up to, is trying to encourage the terrorists to keep the heat turned up to prevent the elections going on as scheduled. Well, it ain't gonna work.
Posted by McGehee.
November 21, 2004
I Voted for Him
And I'm damn proud of it.
Hat tip to Blogs for Bush.
Posted by McGehee.
Damn, I'm Good
Democrats Size Up Perdue James Salzer, Atlanta Urinal-Constipation
I said in a comment here that I thought Taylor will run against Perdue. Being a Democrat lite-gubnor, he had already been stripped of his state Senate powers by the new Republican majority in January 2003. Now that neither house has a Democrat majority, he really has nothing to lose by going for the brass ring.
I also said I don't think Cathy Cox will run for governor, and I stand by that. She's well respected as secretary of state, and if she decides to stay put and run for re-election to that office I think she stands a good chance of winning.
Thurbert Baker I don't know so much about. It's quite possible he could be vulnerable if he seeks re-election as attorney general -- but I read somewhere he's the first black constitutional officer in Georgia elected in his own right without having been appointed to the job first. That speaks well of Baker, if not well at all of Georgia's Democratic Party leadership. They ought to have been grooming black candidates for high office all along (as should the national party, which also hasn't) to be able to win on their own merits. Thurbert Baker being the first, you can be sure the ranks of the not-first are thin.
In this post back at blogoSFERICS, I quoted from a column by political columnist Bill Shipp, a Democrat. One of Shipp's points I didn't quote had to do with the Georgia Democratic Party becoming increasingly the party of black voters. Shipp was careful not to say that was by itself a bad thing, but he was concerned that if the party's face in Georgia continued to change in that direction, it would make its recovery far more difficult. This attitude bears on the situation with Baker, and I believe it derives from the continued Democrat self-delusion that white Southerners aren't ready to share power with blacks on an equal footing.
All this makes Thurbert Baker a wild card; either the party leadership will discourage him and succeed, or it will discourage him and fail. I have no doubt they will try to discourage him.
It's going to be a very interesting two years in Georgia for people who go in for this kind of thing.
As for this line:
If the Democrats here in Georgia had any better idea why they're suddenly losing elections, than their national counterparts, they might have a chance of avoiding that train wreck. But I think their campaign against Sonny Perdue is going to look a lot like Kerry's campaign against George W. Bush.
Posted by McGehee.
November 20, 2004
That Boy Needs to MoveOn®
Apparently Billy Jeff wasn't paying attention when the Democrats and the media (but I repeat myself) were going after Nixon over a "third-rate burglary."
Oops, but wait. That was a threat to the Constitution itself. That was an attempt to subvert the holy electoral process. That was a totally unnecessary effort to defeat a Democratic presidential nominee who, as it turned out, lost in a 49-state landslide.
That was Nixon -- a Republican. Going after Republicans is always justified, and going after Democrats never is. Besides, the perjury, the abuse of power, that was all about sex (with a subordinate, which would be cause for a major scandal if, say, Ken Lay had done it while he was head of Enron).
Bill, shut the fuck up and go the fuck away.*
*The above paragraph has the approval of the Gut Rumbles Board of Standards & Practices.
Posted by McGehee
November 19, 2004
Did y'all know that Bush is to blame for everything? I'll admit I had a feeling, but Liberal Larry has confirmed that suspicion. His latest discovery is especially frightening:
The Gut Rumbles Board of Standards & Practices has informed me that there are certain rules for posting here. On this my initial post, I'm going to violate all of them -- including the one requiring at least one unadulterated swear word in each post.
On that one, I'll try to make up for it over the next few days, though. But for now....
Mickie has turned out to be quite the big bully. She attacks Lucy's paws, tail or nose, whichever is in reach. She drives Suzie-Q to the top of any available appliance or piece of furniture. And then there's Taz.
Taz, a.k.a. The Amazing Seismic Kitty, the cat who coughed up Michael Moore, whose purr registers 6.2 on the Richter scale. The cat so big that when he climbs the stairs he has to make two trips. The cat we can't allow outdoors lest he take down and devour a passing jetliner. The cat whose name is still invoked, ten years later, by mother dogs in his natal state of Oklahoma to frighten their puppies into behaving.
Even Taz cannot intimidate Mickie. She chases him away from wherever she finds him. He growls, he hisses, he even swats at her. All to no avail. And as you look at the picture, you can surely understand why Mickie is First Feline in our household. Truly, a monster among cats.
And someday, when she weighs more than three pounds, we expect the reign of terror to escalate.
UPDATE: The links to pictures of Suzie and Taz may not work, and I don't know why. When I click the links from here, I often get my 403 error page instead. I also had difficulty getting the picture included in this post to display.
Methinks Rob may have set things up to try to thwart the posting of cat pictures while he's away, the bastard.
a money belt
You ever had one of those? I bought one about a month ago and I think it's cool. It looks just like a regular belt with a plastic zipper on the inside (should cruise right through an airport metal detector) that exposes a narrow slot just perfect for the storage of folded-up American greenbacks.
I loaded some cash in mine this morning and I feel like James Bond now. Acidman with a money-belt. Ain't life a hoot?
Okay, that's it. I'll blog from Costa Rica or I'll see y'all when I get back.
the best revenge
I am off to live well for a week. Maybe two. Hell... maybe THREE!!! If I decide to stay in Costa Rica longer than my reservations reach now, it won't be the first time I've done that. I can handle la pura vida. Life played on the first bounce ain't bad.
I've been through a lot of shit in the past three years. I've lost a lot of things that were important to me, and the experience has cost me a WHOLE LOT of money. Lawyers are gnawing prime rib and drinking expensive wine in fancy restaurants on my tab, and they've been doing it for a while now. That's okay.
I'm gonna eat huevos fritas, con arroz y pintos for deseuno every day, con frutas frescas and I will flirt with las chicas every time I get the chance. I've been on the wagon for a while now, but I'm going to have a few cervesas Imperials, con no hielo y no vaso on this trip. I also intend to gamble. If I win, that's great. If I lose, what the fuck? I'd rather piss that money away on cards than pay it to a lawyer.
Yeah, Jennifer. You beat me up bad, but you didn't kill me. I'm still living well in spite of you. Or maybe just TO spite you.
Maybe I'll send you a post card from Costa Rica. Cunt.
November 18, 2004
i hope not
Bejus! Don't tell me that the antichrist is coming back to the SEC. NOOOOO!!! Shoot him with a silver bullet! Drive a wooden stake through his heart! Douse him with holy water! DO SOMETHING!!!
Do not allow such evil to stalk the earth again.
it all fit
I have everything I'm taking to Costa Rica packed into one bag. This is good. I ain't taking a whole lot with me, but I think I've still got more than I need. I am ready to go tomorrow.
I went by and had a nice visit with my mama today. She and my grandmother think I am very handsome now that I have a short haircut and no beard anymore. Awww... they love me even when I'm ugly.
I arrived back home this afternoon and had a typical polite, articulate message from Recondo 32 on my machine: "Hey, asshole! Turn off the porno movie, get your cock out of your paw and stop jacking off. Pick up the goddam phone, shit-bird!" See how MY FRIENDS talk to me? No wonder I'm so depressed all the time.
I watched a movie that had a hysterical woman in it. If I were a feminist, that kind of shit would piss me off. EVERY movie that has action and violence in it features at least one hysterical woman, you know, the one who goes to screaming pieces at the sight of blood, who can't see through the torrents of tears streaming from her eyes, who walks backward, trembling with fright and whimpering like a whipped dog, until she bumps into something she didn't see and screams some more.
What kind of message does that send? I AM WOMAN! Hear me whine and watch me act with the maturity and intelligence of a three year-old boy in a crisis situation. Got Dam! I can't call 'em "broads" anymore, because that's a sexist term. But Hollywood keeps showing hysterical wimmen by the truckload. Go figure.
I got a holiday greeting card from the US Post Office today. Why? What am I going to do if I DON'T receive that greeting card? Take my business elsewhere for home mail? What a useless gesture. How much did that shit cost?
I almost signed up for an internet dating service today. I chickened out at the last minute, mainly because I'm leaving the country tomorrow, and I want to be around to see what kind of fucked-up woman might be interested in ME when I post the bio I composed especially for the ad. Yeah, I like candle-lit dinners, long walks on the beach and taxidermy. You oughta see my stuffed armadillo collection.
I may have a guest blogger posting while I'm gone. I dared him, and he SAYS he has cast-iron balls. We'll see. He has the keys to the joint.
You gonna miss me while I'm gone???
This story is too good to be true.
She made that shit up.
I had more than 200 spam comments today from a very clever individual. He kept changing one little dot or slash on every piece of spam so that I couldn't go through and delete bunches of them at a time. I had to do them all one by one.
He ALSO spammed comments from posts in that missing year-and-a-half of my archives that I can't find. This fucker is GOOD. If he would show me how he found my missing archived posts, I might LET him spam me for that privilege.
But that ain't gonna happen. I deleted his comments one by one, then banned his ISP for good measure. I spent an hour and a half doing that. Spam all gone now, and I hope I didn't catch any innocent bystanders in the ISP ban. But sometimes, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. I had to do this, and I will every time a spammer attacks, no matter how long it takes me.
Asshole. I ain't lettin' you win.
November 17, 2004
i don't mind
I'm always surprised when I write about my experience with prostate cancer and receive a lot of emails (well... four or five PRIVATE emails on one post are a lot to me) from guys going through the same thing I did or just getting ready to face it. That's some pretty spooky stuff for a guy, and I damn sure don't mind talking about it if I can help anyone else through a rough time. I wish I had known someone to talk to when I was going through it.
Breast cancer gets a lot more publicity, but prostate cancer kills more people than breast cancer does every year. That's a fact, and the treatments for prostate cancer are myriad. I suggest that every man past the age of 40 have a PSA test done every year, and if you come up positive on a subsequent biopsy, do a lot of reading before you make a decision about what to do. Once you make that decision, there's no turning back.
Talk to more than one doctor. If you're an old fart with a slow-moving cancer, tell everybody to kiss your ass and wait for something else to kill you first. That's a good bet. If you're 48 years old, the way I was when I was diagnosed, you have to weigh your options and select the best one. There IS no good one, but you can choose the lesser of several evils.
I made my choice and it appears to be the right one, because I'm still at a zero PSA more than three years after a radical prostatectomy. The doc killed my dick, but he saved my life. I consider myself to be a lucky man.
Yeah, I wish none of that shit ever happened to me. But it did, and I was stuck with it. Knowing what I know now... if I had it all to do over again... would I make the same choice? I've spent more than three years thinking about that question and only recently have I made up my mind about the answer.
Yes. I would. I did the right thing.
Guys... don't hesitate to write me about this problem. I don't claim to be an expert, but I'll tell you what I know from my personal experience. I won't lie to you, either.
I may not be much more than a candle in the dark, but that's more light that I had when I walked into that tunnel.
in case you were wondering
I believe that this wonderful marketing idea was the biggest, most steaming turd I've ever seen on network television. Got-Dam! Who the hell is running ABC Sports now? Bart Simpson?
Who the fuck approved that hare-brained idea? I can understand Terrell Owens doing it, because he's a total, self-absorbed prick. But the Philadelphia Eagles? ABC? People who get paid a whole lot of money to make important decisions? What brain-sucker latched onto them?
I am no prude, but that juvenile exhibition was a complete disgrace to football AND network television.
teach your children well
This idea may seem somewhat drastic to some parents, but it doesn't to me. I don't think smart-ass kids get enough humiliation in their lives for acting like smart-assed kids. If they did, they wouldn't be so smart-assed.
Compared to what I see today, my parents were goddam TYRANTS! Corporal Punishment? FUCK! My folks didn't stop at "corporal" when they launched an attack on my ass--- they went all the way to Five-Star General Punishment. My "self-esteem" never entered into the equation. Self-preservation did, because if I showed my ass, my parents busted it, and I learned quickly not to do that kind of shit.
I don't believe that my parents ever lay in bed and night and wondered whether they were too tough on me or my brother, either. I think they lay there and wondered what we got away with that we needed our asses busted for if they only knew about it. They had us there. We were ALWAYS guilty of something.
My folks didn't make their sons little angels, but they damn sure taught us how to behave in public. I don't think enough parents do that dirty work today. I cannot abide an undisciplined child, nor can I abide parents who allow a child to behave that way.
If you're not willing to bust your kid's ass when he or she needs it, don't bring that ass into the world. It's YOUR job to teach 'em to be civilized; if you can't handle it, don't volunteer.
It's not an easy job and sometimes... you have to get your hands dirty.
I took two years of high school Spanish, where I learned very little, then 20 hours of Spanish in college, where I learned a lot. But I let every bit of that knowledge rot on the vine until my first trip to Costa Rica. I was surprised at how fast some of my old lessons came back to me.
Vocabulary in a foreign language goes to shit in a hurry if you don't use it. Mine ossified. But I still remembered the basics, and once I started hanging around people who spoke nothing but Spanish, I got better fast. Gerio, my driver, was VERY impressed by the great strides I made from the time he dropped me off in San Jose and the time he picked me up to return to the airport two weeks later, since I spoke nothing but Spanish with him that time. When he first met me, I remembered about five words in Spanish. The second time, I was putting together sentences.
"Roberto! Es muy impresiontante. Hablas espanol ahora! Bueno!"
I'm not fluent in the language, because I still have to think in English and translate what I want to say, and if somebody gets too rapid-fire in Spanish with me, I can't understand a word they're saying, but I am one hell of a lot better than I once was. I would like to go spend about six months there, take a couple of Spanish courses (They teach conversational Spanish EVERYWHERE down there) and immerse myself in the language.
I believe that I could become fluent. Spanish is a very melodic language and I enjoy trying to speak it. Right now, I speak it like a retard, in the present tense all the time and with a limited vocabulary, but I get better every time I go to Costa Rica. Practice makes perfect.
I would like to speak a second language. Just because.
loss of package
I know this feeling and it ain't pleasant. I'm not talking about a satirical, tongue-in-cheek play on words, either. I'm talking about a REAL, PERMANENT loss of package.
A dead dick ain't no fun. I suffered from that affliction for 19 months after prostate surgery. I had experiences such as this during that time, where I was actually desperate enough for a piece of ass that I shot myself in the wanger with a hypodermic needle to achieve an erection. Bejus! Those were terrible times.
I can't stand that fucking Viagra commercial where "Wild Thing" sprouts the blue horns from his head while looking at some Victoria's Secret shit in a store window and leering at his girlfriend. I want to kill that bastard. I want to kill his goddam slut girlfriend, too.
I want to BE "Wild Thing" again. I always was, and I didn't like that part of my life being taken away from me.
I have a $38,000 bionic package now, and it works just fine. Oh, it's ever-ready and it'll get the job done, but it just ain't like what I once had. I always LIKED my dick before it died. I still DREAM about the old Roscoe. He and I were a team for many years, and I miss him today. This "tool" I have functions (dry-fire and all), but it just ain't like it once was.
And I have to watch all these got-dam commercials about some prick taking a pill and making his lady see stars again, like that penis-enhanced "Bob" with the frozen smile on his face to reflect his "woody." I'd drown that grinning sumbitch in his swimming pool if I had the chance, or beat him to death with a sand wedge if I met him on the golf course. And I wouldn't fuck his slut of a wife on a dare, even if I were piss-ass drunk at the time.
Even the WIMMEN are doing those commercials. Have you seen the one with the sexy bitch on the floating dock at the lake? You know, the one where she's sitting there with a lasting case of pussy-tingles and talking dreamily about the glories of Cialis? Bejus! I just keep waiting for the camera to zoom in on the wet spot on the dock when she stands up. Slut. I WANT HER!!!
Bah! Ignore me. I'm just having a flashback to my Dick-Depression from years past. And unlike the song, it isn't as if I didn't know what I had before it was gone. I KNEW and I damn sure missed it.
I still do.
I shamelessly stole this picture from here and I ain't apologizing for it. I saw those faces and something really strange washed over me, a feeling that I haven't known for a long time. I almost started to cry.
Don't whine to me about "hopelessly average" people. I see the salt of the earth and the rock-ribbed foundation of our country in those two faces. I see my grandmother and grandfather, I see love that endured through fire and rain, and I see faith, trust and hope in those elderly eyes. Ah, the stories they can tell.
History books tell us of "great" people who did "great" things: explorers, inventors, writers, leaders and philosophers. But there's not enough room in those history books for the stories of the "average" people who built this country and keep it running strong today.
Maybe people such as these never shook the world, but the world wouldn't be the same place without them. Appreciate them. Acknowlege the contributions they made to holding this country together.
And don't call them "hopelessly average."
i started packing
I'm leaving for Costa Rica again on Friday. I'm going to spend Thanksgiving there and see some parts of the country I've never been before. The weather looks kind of funky, a little chilly and rainy, but I'll survive somehow. If I become desperate, I'll rent a woman to keep me warm at night.
I'm staying out of San Jose this time and heading over to the Caribbean side. I've heard that the east coast of Costa Rica is the armpit of the country, but I don't know that for a fact and I want to get my own perspective on the situation. If I don't like it there, I'll go somewhere else. Transportation is no problem.
I really like Costa Rica. I cannot recommend it highly enough as a great, beautiful, inexpensive vacation spot. The last time I was there, I spent 14 days, lived like a king, got laid, ate well, drank well and saw a LOT of interesting sights and the entire trip, including round-trip air fare, cost me $1,400 total.
That ain't bad for two weeks in a tropical paradise. It's less money than I pay in child support every month for a son I can't visit. Hell, I pay the bloodless cunt more money than I spend on MYSELF every month. I could buy Quinton a got-damn HOUSE and a CAR with the money I'm paying my ex-wife. That just ain't right, but it's the law. More than $40,000 and counting, so far. That's the most expensive pussy I ever had in my life, and it looks as if I'll keep paying for it for a long, long time.
The truth is, it wasn't THAT good. NO pussy has EVER been THAT good. Do you realize how much young, good-looking ass I could rent for $40,000 in Costa Rica? Holy Bejus! I could fuck myself to DEATH with that kind of money. The ex GAVE that pussy away to somebody else when she was still married to me and she never charged that bastard a dime. Now, I'm paying her and her lawyer, too.
Life is just ridiculous sometimes.
I'm taking one bag with me and it's 90% packed. I travel light, and I'm getting good at it. Clothes, cigarettes, camera, passport and cash. That's all I need. Besides, it's about time I got out of here for an adventure again.
I'm going to see my mama tomorrow, then finish packing and head out of here on Friday. I'll blog from the Costa Rican internet cafes, among the monkeys, mangos and muchachas bonitas. I hope to have excellent stories to tell when I return.
Hell.. I'll tell excellent stories even if I have to make them up.
Pardon me while I try to work up a good case of give a shit about Sunni "outrage" over the Marine killing a wounded terrorist in a mosque. We'll investigate the incident and handle it properly. We are civilized.
We DON'T behead innocent civilians, send homicide bombers into crowds, or celebrate in the streets with uulating and dancing when others do. I'm sorry, but people who supported a brutal regime that fed citizens into shredders and planted mass graves all over the country don't occupy the high moral ground when it comes to protesting senseless slaughter. They are too drenched in blood themselves.
``The troops not only violated our mosques with their sins and their boots but they stepped on our brothers' blood,'' said Khalil, the shop owner. ``They are criminals and mercenaries. I feel guilty standing here and not doing anything.''
Fine, Kahlil. Pick a gun and go fight the Marines, you stupid bastard. They'll assuage your guilt for you. And the "insurgents" need to understand that they reap what they sow. There are no innocent bystanders in a Guerrila War and when you dispense brutality, expect to get some back, a lot worse than panties on the head, too.
Fuck 'em. Those murderers made their own bed. I don't want to hear them whining about lying in it now.
November 16, 2004
This post gave me a headache. I believe that the topic is worthy, because I always wanted to be GREAT at something, but I never got beyond Pretty Good. No matter what I tried, or how HARD I tried, somebody else was always better at it than I was.
But I've NEVER thought of myself as "average." Especially not like this:
I am just like you - hopelessly average. Don't kid yourself either, you too are hopelessly average, in fact 99.9% of the world is hopelessly average.
I'm not going to explore the bell-shaped curve that Dawn's math would yield (it defies statistical analysis), but I AM going to quibble with her "hopelessly average" remark. I know very few people that I would describe as "average" in every way. I know some people that I WOULD describe as "below average" in a LOT of ways, but I don't see any of them being "hopeless," except for some of the true lefties out there. Hopeless is a terrible word.
When I die, very few people in this world will remember, 20 years later, who in the hell I was. 100 years from now, NOBODY will remember. I'm not going to be in the history books, I'm not gonna cure cancer, and I ain't gonna win a fucking Nobel Peace Prize. But I don't feel "hopelessly average." If I did, I don't know if I would bother to get out of bed in the morning.
I've made a few marks in this world. They aren't deep marks or high marks, and they won't endure long, but I made 'em just the same. They're MINE! I've influenced dozens of people's lives. I've saved two people from drowning. I've done some things I'm very proud of and I've also fucked up royally on several momentous occasions.
It's been a rocky ride, but it wasn't boring, it wasn't average, and it damn sure wasn't hopeless. It was just life, that's all. It's average ONLY if you allow it to be. I've damn sure got some good stories to tell, and some of them make me laugh while others make me cry. Some stories make me do both at the same time.
It's been a fun run, dings and all. As my wise daddy always said, "If it was easy, any asshole could do it."
Maybe THAT'S the true definition of "hopelessly average."
it's a red state
I own several guns and I like to shoot, but I don't hunt deer. I tried it a couple of times and simply didn't like freezing my ass off in a tree-stand at sunrise while waiting for a deer to walk by, which never happened for me. That crap just ain't my cup of tea.
But it sure IS for a lot of other people. Here in Effingham County, Georgia, the first day of deer season is damn near a religious holiday. Half the local population heads for the woods that day--- some with dogs, some with young'uns, and some all by themselves, but ALL of them with guns. They'll haunt those woods every chance they get until the season's over, too.
I can see how that might present a problem for the Secret Service, if ex-Presidents were wandering around nearby.
The Acxiom building overlooks the library, where President Bush and former presidents Jimmy Carter, George H.W. Bush and Clinton are to speak.
I am a staunch supporter of Second Amendment rights, but I also have a lick of common sense. If you stick a rifle in your truck where it can be seen when three ex-Presidents and a bunch of other political bigwigs are having an Affair Of Import in the vicinity, you're just asking for trouble.
Use your head here. What would YOU do with somebody like YOU with the rifle, if YOU were in charge of security? You'd rough the shit out of yourself, slap on the cuffs and drag yourself off for some serious questioning, THAT'S what you'd do.
You shoulda had more sense than to bring a rifle anywhere around that place, you dumbass. That's like walking into a BANK with a gun, for crying out loud. People see the gun and they ASSUME that you're up to no good because your behavior is.... inappropriate. People react to inappropriate behavior, and generally, they don't like it. So, DON'T DO THAT SHIT!
Heh. Actually, I believe that it's WONDERFUL that red states have such "issues."
this is good
I don't feel much like writing today. I've had a case of the blahs. But I keep finding really good links that you should check.
I like the "subliminal" message.
i thought she was dead
I almost dropped her from the blogroll after more than a month of silence. Now, I'm delighted that I didn't, because she's back, still full of piss and vinegar.
As long as I'm wallowing in the gutter today, I may as well link this impressive photo of our Vice-President.
Holy Bejus! No wonder people call him "cocky."
what the hell...
A lot of other people linked to it, so i will, too.. It's a pretty clever site, especially if you get adventurous with your "drink" orders.
Tammi can tend my bar anytime.
You've all seen the picture. Now, put a name with that face.
"I was just smokin' a cigarette and someone takes my picture and it all blows up," Miller told them Friday.
We grow 'em tough in the hills of eastern Kentucky.
(UPDATE: Wouldn't you know it. The picture offended anti-smokers. My aching ass...)
great moments in sports
You can see a new world's record high-jump here.
smart state/dumb state
Here's a nice display of education state rankings, which says that Massachusetts is the smartest state in the union and New Mexico is the dumbest. It's an interesting list, but I'm not sure it says very much.
States were graded on a variety of factors based on how they compare to the national average. These included such positive attributes as per-pupil expenditures, public high school graduation rates, average class size, student reading and math proficiency, and pupil-teacher ratios.
Other than factoring in student reading and math proficiency, this "finding" seems more a rating of how well-entrenched the educational bureaucracy is rather than a reflection of actual educational performance. The asumption seems to be that if a state throws a lot of money at education, hires lots of teachers and graduates a lot of students, then the state is "smart." Sounds like bullshit to me.
But that's just MY humble opinion, Maybe I'm just jealous because Georgia ranked #38.
November 15, 2004
I'm a male chauvanist pig. I don't like whiny wimmen. But even I say that the man in the picture above needs to be dragged off and shot.
That sorry bastard! He ought to AT LEAST get behind her and push.
I've been watching war movies on Fox News. These aren't Hollywood productions, with expensive special-effects and dead extras. These shots are showing REAL troops in a REAL war. I'm pulling hard for those boys. They are goddam good at what they do and I am proud of every one of them.
Watching that stuff made me think about war movies, and here are MY Top Ten:
10) The Great Escape. If nothing else, for Steve McQueen jumping the barbed wire on the motorcycle at the end.
9) A Bridge Too Far. Incredible fuck-up by the military, mitigated into a live-with military defeat by the incredible bravery of the troops.
8) The Longest Day. Glamorized too much for my tastes, but still a good movie. I don't believe that the true nature of that battle can EVER be captured on film, but that one had John Wayne, so it couldn't be bad.
7) The Dirty Dozen. GOT-DAM!!! Was Lee Marvin a bad-ass, or what? Telly Savalas did a good job as a total prick in that movie. Jim Brown got killed. too. Oh, man. That was a great movie.
6) Midway. That's another one that didn't do justice to what actually happened, but it remains a damn fine movie. We won World War II in the Pacific Ocean that day, and a lot of people died achieving that goal.
5) Battleground. That's an old black-and-white movie about the Battle of the Bulge. You can spot a young James Arness in there, before he became Matt Dillon, if you watch closely.
4) Platoon. I don't want to get into a fight here, but I'll go ahead and tell you that I don't give a shit what you think. I liked the movie. If it didn't accurately portray the war in Vietnam, it accurately portrayed young men under severe stress. So, shut up. I liked the movie.
3) Das Boot. I saw that movie the first time with sub-titles. I've seen it a dozen times since with the dialogue dubbed. It doesn't matter. That's a teriffic movie, with a terrible ending, which fit the German U-Boat command.
2) The Sand Pebbles. Maybe that's a "conflict" movie rather than a "war movie," but it's still about fightin' and dyin' on a Navy ship under the US flag. Steve McQueen gave his life's-work performance in that film. Famous Last Words, as McQueen's character, Jake Holman, was dying, wide-eyed and wondering just how the fuck he ended up where he was: "I had it MADE!!!"
1) Saving Private Ryan. The first time I saw that movie, it bowled me over. Parts of it still do today, and I've watched it at least 20 times. I could do without the cemetary scene at the end, but that one stain of syrup doesn't change my mind. This one is, without a doubt, the best War Movie ever made.
That's just MY humble opinion. of course. Feel free to disagree.
I've seen 'em
Why are anti-American protesters such flaming assholes? I'm serious about that question. If I were organizing a revolution and I really wanted to bring my message to "the people," the LAST THING I would do is make myself out to be the leader of a raving band of complete nut-logs.
Got-dam! Even the Black Muslims understood that simple fact. Sometimes, you Dress for Success, and have some RULES, even if your cause is is orbiting somewhere out there beyond Pluto. Nobody's gonna take you seriously if your idea of "changing the world" is to drop your britches and shit on the sidewalk. If THAT'S your point, you damn sure proved it, whatever it was.
I'm sorry. I'm ranting. But I visited here and I got carried away.
Theirs was the usual confusing mass of mixed messages: religious pacifists mingled with anarchists; communists selling newspapers for a dollar each; anti-capitalist vegans holding up a banner advertising a “yeast-free” bread shop; a woman -- made up to appear like a victim of multiple gunshot wounds -- lay supine on the sidewalk, draped in an American flag.
Go see the pictures. They're good, too.
If I got a hit from this search, I'd lock myself in a closet with a couple of firearms, a canteen and a piss-bucket for a couple of days, until I made sure it was safe to come out again.
Man. That's frightening.
When I made my diagonal car-ride across America, the state that impressed me the most was Montana. I went all the way from the northwest corner to Billings, so I saw a lot of that state. It is unbelievably beautiful. And yeah... it has a Big Sky.
Montana bloggers, getting newspaper coverage. That's GREAT!!!
Existential thoughts again
I have a serious, heart-felt question to ask, and I want an honest answer. This is for all you Wimmen who read me:
"Do you think you have a fine ass?"
I realize that I just asked a LOADED QUESTION (BWHAHAHAHA!!!) but I'm serious about it. Wimmen and their asses have always intrigued me. I believe that the feminine Butt-Ox is the most sexy part of a woman's body, just because the SHAPE is so different from a man's. Plus, wimmen alway WORRY about their butts, where men never think twice about theirs unless the dookey-chute gets plugged-up, or something. This is a really species-specific question.
I wanna know. Ladies, when you put on a new dress, turn seventeen different ways in the full-length mirror, primp, strut and slut while admiring your own bounty, why do you THEN turn around and ask your husband, "Honey, does this dress make my butt look fat?"
WHAT THE HELL IS HE SUPPOSED TO SAY???
*"Yeah, darlin.' Your butt's blocking the TV and it's fourth and goal from the one. Get out of the way."
*"No, honey. Your butt looks fine."
*"Bejus! You are AWESOME! Come to me! I must have hot, wet passion RIGHT NOW!"
*"Christ! If you were gonna haul ass, you'd have to make TWO TRIPS!"
*"Butt? WHAT butt?"
*"Why do you ask me about your butt every time you put on a new dress? When I married you, I married your butt, too. You know, thick and thin, better or worse, yadda, yadda. Get dressed and let's go."
I ask only one True Confession from you wimmen. If you've got a nice ass and YOU believe it's a nice ass, you FLAUNT IT, don't you? C'mon, don't lie to me. You wear stuff to make your ass look good, you walk to make your ass look good and you LIKE knowing that your ass looks good.
You ALSO like it when men notice your fine ass. I'm not talking about the pawing and slobbering shit that some dorks do to give all men a bad reputation. I mean guys who turn their heads, raise their eyebrows or nod approvingly when you walk into a room. If you've got a fine ass and you dressed to show it off, you EXPECT that kind of appreciation.
THAT IS NOT SEXUAL HARASSMENT!!! That is simple he-ing and she-ing and we would have died out years ago if we didn't do such stuff. Welcome to Human Nature, 101.
I just don't like people pretending that they don't understand the game. Big-titted wimmen wear low-cut, spagetti-strap tops that spill half their breasts out for a suntan and they become "insulted" when some man notices. Is THAT ridiculous, or what?
Suppose men walked around with HALF OF THEIR DICK hanging out of their pants. Would wimmen NOT notice? Would it be really rude and impolite to say, as a female in a group of females, "Holy Bejus! Look at the rack on THAT ONE! DAMN! I'd ride it in the Bedroom Rodeo." I don't think that behavior is crazy. I think it's NORMAL.
Okay, enough diversion. Back to my original question: Do you have a fine ass, or not?
I sat down and paid all of my bills this morning. Water bill, phone bill, electric bill, Comcast bill, Blue Cross bill, and
I stood there next to the street for a minute or so and felt the cold, fall wind whip up the backside of my bathrobe and caress my bare, withered shanks with the clammy fingers of frozen death. I didn't like that feeling. I got goosebumps on my ARMS while my ASS was freezing. I went back inside.
I also decided, that since I don't OWE anybody right now, and I have no place that I HAVE to be today, I'm gonna be Hugh Hefner and wear my bathrobe all day long. I am showered, shaved and clean, but I'm not going to put on clothes today. I can clean my bedroom nekkid if I want to.
I'm taking a Bathrobe Day. You should try it sometime.
no big surprise
I never was a big fan of Colin Powell. I respect the man, and I believe that he's done a lot of good, hard work for his country, but I am NOT sorry to see him resign. Powell always struck me as the perfect "Good Soldier" type, the person willing to perform the work, accomplish the mission, do whatever was required for success and back his boss right to the gates of hell.
Don't get me wrong. Those are EXCELLENT qualities for a professional bureacrat to have, but they are NOT what George Bush needs in a Secretary of State. I never believed that Colin Powell was a wartime performer. He's always been too worried about pissing other people off.
National security adviser Condoleezza Rice is the "likely" choice to succeed Powell, a senior U.S. official told CNN.
Hmmm... a Black Female Secretary of State. Obviously, the Bush administration is so hopelessly racist and devisive that it will stop at NOTHING to widen the gulf between its Nazi minions and ordinary people in this country. Affirmative Action is one thing, but giving Condi Rice the position of Secretary of State is... well, it's just WRONG!
If self-appointed "Black Leaders" called Colin Powell a "porch Ni**er" (see? I TOLD you I would NEVER type that word again), what are they going to say about Condi? I'll guarantee you that they ain't gonna mention her educational background, the fact that she's fluent in several foreign languages, that she came from nothing in Bumfuck, Alabama to get where she is today, and she's got a set of balls bigger than most men dangle.
Colin, you did an okay job. Good soldiering. Now go away and write some fine history books, with history seen from the inside out. You'll do an excellent job of that, because you are a fine, trustworthy man. I'll always appreciate you for the service you gave your country.
But it's time for someone else to run your former job. I believe that Condi is a superb choice. Colin, I don't mean to hurt your feelings here. I always liked you and thought you did a good job.
But I never ADMIRED you as someone who played a star position on a really good football team. You were good to carry the ball on third-and-one, get the first down and not fumble. Every team needs a reliable, go-to guy in those situations. But you weren't gonna break that play for a touchdown. That wasn't your style.
Maybe I'm wrong about Condoleezza Rice being the dynamic, high-octane performer I see her as being, but I say give her a chance to PROVE me wrong. I don't believe she will. I believe that she's got The Right Stuff.
And I'll finish with a typical Acidman racist comment: If Condi Rice turns out to be a real mover and shaker in this "racist" Republican administration, how will the Democrats and the race-baiters explain that fact away? What about black families raising black daughters?
Personally, if I had a six year-old daughter now, I'd show her Condi on television and tell my daughter, "Look at HER. She's one of the most powerful people in the WORLD and she got there through hard work. You can do that, too, if you work hard enough. There's a worthy goal to pursue: Be Like Condi!"
And I'd be talking to a white daughter.
According to the thermometer on my back porch, the temperature was 38 degrees F at 7:00 this morning. No frost on the ground, but pretty chilly outside for a Southern boy. I don't like cold weather.
But I like the fall. It's football season, time to steam fresh oysters, and have back-yard parties. It's jacket-weather and temperatures where it's really nice to build a big fire in the back yard while neighbors stand around, cooking hot-dogs on a stick, warming their hands and drinking alcohol.
It's the time of year when the kids come running into the house with red ears, rosy cheeks and runny noses and they are shivering from the cold. You fix hot chocolate with marshmellows and make them all sit still while they drink a cup; then, you send them outside to play again.
Gawd! I remember what fall was like when I was a boy. And it hasn't changed.
Some people are suggesting that I wrote this post. I, right now, deny any connection with that blather. You can't find my name anywhere in there, and I
I'd lie to you about something UNIMPORTANT, but that's just my situation ethics kicking in. Ask me, straight-up and forthright: "Did you write that post?"
I'll give you an honest answer. But you'd better phrase the question just right, because I still quibble about what the definition of "is" is.
I really need to put this site on my blogroll. Rube is in Germany and he speaks with the wisdom of a philosopher:
The entire country is full of moonbat lefties. Even the conservatives here are moonbat lefties. People who seem perfectly normal are just barking mad once you talk politics with them.
I LOVE YOU, man!
I've had the peoria pundit on my blogroll for a long time now, and I read Bill regularly. I'm really disappointed that time constraints didn't allow me to hook up with him and quaff a couple of frothy ales at a titty-bar while I was on my cross-country trip and spent the night just outside of Peoria. I hope to rectify that mistake sometime in the future.
I've alway respected Bill because he is a genuine journalist, with bona-fide credentials and by-lines and all that impressive shit. But I ALSO KNOW, locked deep inside that yankee body, is a red-necked Rebel trying desperately to break free. I have proof.
He sent me this link with the comment, "I thought this might tickle your fancy." Well... he was absolutely RIGHT, but I wouldn't recommend opening that site at work. It involves nekkid wimmen with red toenails doing things with their feet and... never mind.
Bill, you made my day.
November 14, 2004
I never thought Quinton resembled me very much. He always looked a lot more like his mama than he did me. But I had an amazing experience when I saw him today for the first time in almost six months. I don't know whether he's changing or I just never was away from him long enough to notice before.
My boy looks a LOT like me, especially when I was his age.
He's still got eyes the shape of his mama's, almost oriential, with a curious downturn at the corners; but the irises are Scots-Irish hazel-green, the same as mine. He's damn sure got the famous Smith Chin, which my daughter still curses me for giving her. The Smith Chin is long and pointy, almost like a garden spade.
Personally, I believe that a strong chin is a sign of strong character. I don't trust chinless fuckers. They ain't got no grit. I don't trust a man with an ass wider than his shoulders, either, but I'm getting off-topic here.
Quinton isn't bow-legged the way I am, but he's short-waisted and stocky, just like daddy. He even RUNS with that odd, almost straight-legged gait that I've had all my life. His nose is looking more and more like mine every day, too, which may be more of a curse than a blessing when he grows older. But I think a formidable nose is a sign of strong character, too. Maybe it also means he has a big dick. I hope so.
Basketball tryouts start in two weeks, and Quinton is going out for the 11-to-12 year-old league. He won't be eleven until December 28th, but he wants to play with the older boys. "I'll be eleven before the season's over," he explained. "Besides, I'm better than most of 'em anyway."
I think he also inherited my humility.
a whirling dervish
I don't know what's gotten into me the past week or so. I've been reading a lot, taking walks in the woods, going shooting every couple of days and....CLEANING HOUSE!!! Yes, you read that correctly. I actually have been trying to bring some semblance of order and hygene to the Crackerbox again.
Now, I'm not KILLING myself with the cleaning, because I can take only so much of that shit at one time, but so far I have managed to shampoo the carpets, scrape and scrub all the grime off my kitchen stove, polish the kitchen cabinets, mop and wax the kitchen floor, shine all the countertops and even clean the refrigerator, inside and out. All the clothes piled in the laundry room are either on hangers in a closet or folded in a drawer now.
The house is starting to look pretty good.
Yesterday, Recondo 32 and Georgia came over to watch the Bulldog's game with me. Georgia walked in, looked around and said, "Holy shit, Smith! What happened here? I think I'm in the wrong house!" She was very impressed with my efforts, but she couldn't help observing that if I didn't let it get so filthy in the first place, the cleanup wouldn't be so much work. Yadda, yadda.
I'm just taking one room at a time for a few hours off and on every day. I'll be tackling my bedroom tomorrow, then on to the computer room. (THAT mess may take a week to unfuck.) When I am finished, I will have a clean and orderly house, which means that I probably won't be comfortable here anymore.
I don't know if I'm doing this cleaning because sobriety is so got-dam BORING or if I'm getting in touch with my gay side. But I find myself sitting on the couch and staring at my nicotine-and-dust-stained ceiling fan. I'm going to remove the blades and the light globes tonight, clean the blades and run the globes through the dishwasher. Then, I'll put it all back together again, CLEAN.
If my mama saw me doing this shit, she would worry about me.
the hostile work environment
Sexual Harassment law is a grotesque, confusing piece of feel-good legislation that ENCOURAGES feel-bad behavior in the workplace. It caters to the most sensitive, neurotic whinebags in society at the expense of sane, well-adjusted people. It's also a fucking WEAPON, wielded by the venal and the vindictive to punish an employer.
She was hired to be a writers' assistant, to take copious notes while the high-powered writing team brainstormed for the show. But Lyle said her excitement soon gave way to feelings of degradation when the writers' conversation grew raunchy. At times, she said, she felt nauseated.
Did she quit? Did she say, this is just too disgusting for MY tastes and go find another job? Of COURSE not!
After being told she was being fired for typing too slowly, Lyle filed a sexual harassment lawsuit against Warner Bros. Television Productions, Inc. and the producers and writers she had worked under for four months in 1999. She alleges that they created a hostile work environment.
Poor, delicate little flower. The language spoken by professional comedy writers was just too much for her fragile psyche to handle. Therefore, comedy writers should speak ONLY in ways that fit Lyle's precise, anal-retentive rules, and to hell with everybody else.
Bejus! Do you know how long this woman would last at a Jawja Blog-Meet? She'd dissolve into a quivering puddle of jello before we even got to the Home Made Wine. That bunch I party with could put Hollywood comedy writers to shame when it comes to raunchy language and sexual double-entenders. And THOSE are our WIMMEN. The guys are even worse.
I've got no sympathy for people who file these kind of lawsuits. In fact, I wish the judge would stand up in court, raise his robe to reveal nothing underneath, shake his wang at Lyle and say "I've got your hostile environment RIGHT HERE, BITCH!"
But that's just MY humble opinioin of sexual harassment law.
that's my boy
I finally got to see my son today, for the first time since Father's Day. Quinton needs a haircut, the shaggy little poot.
We had a good visit. We threw a football for a while and then sat on the grass and told stories. I gave Quinton some pictures that I took back during his visitation days and we laughed about what we were doing at the time. He gave me a big hug and said, "I sure do miss you daddy. I think about you every day."
I had to suck up my emotions to keep from blubbering like a baby, but I maintained an even keel. "I think about YOU every day, too," I told him.
And I do. I dream about him at night. I look at his pictures and feel as if my heart has been ripped out of my chest and tossed into a shredder. I NEED my boy and he NEEDS me. Man, this stuff depresses the shit out of me sometimes, because I see no end in sight.
But it can't go on forever. It'll get better. Quinton still loves me and I love him. Even the Bloodless Cunt doesn't have the power to change that fact.
November 13, 2004
auburn 24, Georgia 6
Don't talk to me. Just shut the fuck up. I am in a bad mood and I don't want you trying to be my friend. If you're an Auburn fan, congratulations. I hope you get toenail fungus, venereal warts and a terminal case of crotch-rot. I pray that cockroaches devour your dead eyeballs. You are the son of 60,000 whores.
I don't know why I am so upset. It's ONLY a got-dam, muther-sucking, sack-of-shit, kiss-my-ass, oh-Bejus-not-again, fuck-me-dead GAME! It's not like anything SERIOUS, such as cancer or divorce.
No, it's a LOT more serious than cancer or divorce. You can get over cancer or divorce. A butt-whipped loss is forever a butt-whipped loss. Excuse me while I mourn.
When my Dawgs lose, my world goes to shit. My world went to shit today. I need sympathy. I need a hug. I need reassurance that the sun will rise again tomorrow.
Okay, if I can't get any sympathy, I'll settle for a blow-job.
in a mellow mood
I hope each and every one of you get laid tonight. Enjoy.
to mike the troll
Yeah, Mike. When we red-state, knuckle-dragging, ignorant gungoons aren't showering money on churches the size of shopping malls, we occasionally do this kind of thing. We really ARE crazy, aren't we?
"It just got under my skin that these lawyers and association people would do this to that guy," said Hoskinson. "That gentleman's signed up to protect our country, and you've got lawyers who haven't signed up for anything, trying to make him pay hundreds of dollars."
Anybody who thinks we're dumbass jesus freaks because we give WILLINGLY when somebody we don't even know is in trouble has been living behind locked doors too long. I've never met Catie in my life, and I probably never will, but I gave $50. I want her to live long and prosper. I can't make her well, but I did what I could to help.
And if that makes me a red-neck, so be it. I qualify.
At CBS News, it's okay to lie about a story, use forged documents to push a political agenda and otherwise flaunt the rules of respectable journalism. But don't you DARE break into the final moments of a hit program to announce that Yassir Arafat finally died after a week of being semi-dead, almost dead, brain-dead, not dead and dead again.
They'll fire your ass for that kind of mistake. After all, CBS News has high standards.
Hell-- at least the fired producer got the story right, which is more than I can say for Dan Rather, who still has HIS job.
I don't blog much on Saturdays anymore. Readership always goes way down on the weekends and I prefer watching football this time of year anyway. Today will be no exception, because my beloved Georgia Bulldogs play that vile bunch of Alabama cow-fuckers from Auburn on national television, and I WILL be watching that game. Blogging will be light.
So, rather than write anything original, I give you this, via my friend, catfish.
Have you ever spoken and wished that you could immediately take the words back...or that you could crawl into a hole? Here are the testimonials of a few people who did....
There. At least I posted something today.
November 12, 2004
I haven't paid much attention to the Scott Peterson case. I suppose that fact makes me really weird, but I don't watch Survivor, either. My life is real enough that I don't need "reality TV."
The Peterson jury has reached a verdict and they're supposed to announce it in about 15 minutes. I claim to be no expert on the case, but from what I've read and seen about the trial, I have an opinion.
1) He probably did it. He strikes me as the kind of guy who would.
2) The prosecution has no hard evidence against him. Even the circumstancial evidence is pretty flimsy.
3) If their case against him were solid, they wouldn't have tried to convict him the the press before the vase ever went to trial.
4) I predict that he will be found "Not Guilty."
I believe that Scott Peterson is a real scumbag. I've seen plenty of evidence to confirm that fact. But being a real scumbag, fucking around on your spouse and lying your ass off ARE NOT reasons to send somebody to Death Row (If they were, Scott would have to stand in line behind my ex-wife and wait his turn.) and I don't believe that the prosecution proved that he killed Laci.
If the prosecution didn't prove the case beyond a reasonable doubt, then the jury must let him walk. And I think that's what will happen.
I'll know in 10 minutes.
(Wow! I was wrong about that one. They threw the book at him.)
Yep. These people deserve a "homeland." If a funeral turns into this, just imagine what the country would look like under self-rule. Palistineans need to evolve a long way just to achieve a decent clusterfuck government. They're stuck in the raving, hysterical lunatic stage right now, and they seem happy there.
Nine people were wounded, one critically, by gunshots fired wildly into the air. Hundreds of mourners were treated by medics after fainting in the crush or falling off walls.
Assholes. Yassir was a fitting "leader."
red state/blue state again
We red-staters really are a foolish lot. We don't make as much money as the blue-staters do, but we give more of our money away. Bejus! What's the matter with us?
It's gotta be those fucked-up values we have.
no thank you
I don't want one of these on my vehicle. The got-dam government has plenty of files on me already. They don't need a Black Box in my car recording every move I make.
EDRs are certainly not new. Information gathered on black boxes — typically everything from speed, brake pressure, seat belt use and air bag deployment — has already been used in determining guilt in criminal and civil cases across the country.
Obviously, EDRs are such wonderful devices that the government should MANDATE that one be installed on every new car, no matter what it costs and no matter whether the consumer wants it or not.
Sure it does. Let's mandate Black Boxes in every new home or apartment built from now on, too. Think of how much more helpful the government could be if it could monitor everything you do at home, 24-7. Doesn't that idea make you feel safer already?
If I ever am FORCED to buy a car with a Black Box on it, I'm sure that I can find a clever guy to disconnect it for me. And I will.
Government has no business doing this kind of shit.
couldn't happen to a nicer guy
I do not like Bill Maher. That smirking, sanctimonious bastard just has an air about him that makes me want to walk up, head-butt him in the face and leave him whimpering in a fetal position on the floor. Let his sycophantic, moonbat audience members applaud THAT, with their usual hoots and hollers.
I'm always suspicious of vindictive ex-girlfriends who hire lawyers--- vindictive wimmen will LIE---but I'm all for Ms. "Coco" in this lawsuit. I'll bet Maher thought Bill O'Reilly's problems were pretty damn funny. How's that shoe fit on YOUR foot, wiseguy?
NOVEMBER 11--Comedian Bill Maher was slapped yesterday with a $9 million palimony suit by an ex-girlfriend who alleges that the HBO star subjected her to physical and verbal abuse, including "insulting, humiliating and degrading racial comments."
I believe that Bill's SHOW commits physical and verbal abuse every time it airs, and it makes me feel degraded, so he gets no sympathy from me. Fuck him.
It couldn't happen to a nicer guy.
As I was despamming my comments this morning, I ran across a new one. The penis-enlargement offers, prescription drugs, barnyard sex, on-line gambling, mortgage refinancing, gay anal orgies, Asian incest, direct TV and discount car rentals are common spam material. But I found a first today.
That's right. I was spammed by an outfit seeking members for a class-action suit against a drug manufacturer. I should have known that those maggots wouldn't stop with Robert Vaughn television commercials, ads on bus-stop benches and full-page color blubs in the phone book. No place is too low for them to go.
Over the past three years, I have developed a real intense dislike for lawyers. After all, they take cases such as this one.
November 11, 2004
GAWD!!! It's got me! I was cooking supper tonight and I started to put some chives on my baked potato. I was almost out of chives. I shook the last few crumbs out of the spice-jar and started to throw the empty container in the trash. "I'm out of chives," I thought. And that's when the Worm attacked.
"And I'm down to seeds and stems again, too."
DOES ANYBODY REMEMBER THAT SONG???? I heard it back in the late 60s or early 70s and it's about a guy who has everything go wrong at once in life, and to top it all off, he's down to seeds and stems in his pot-stash. I don't remember who did the song, but I kinda liked it. It had some lyrics something like this (I am totally guessing here, but you'll get the jist.).
"The old lady ran off, the dog is dead
I have no earthly idea why I suddenly remembered that song tonight. I haven't heard it or thought about it in years. In fact, I hope such a song actually exists. Bejus help me if I'm dreaming this shit up on my own.
Is anyone else familiar with that song? I'm pretty sure "Down to Seeds and Stems Again, Too" is the title, but I could be the victim of feverish hallucinations. But damn if it ain't driving me crazy right now.
C'mon. Tell me there really is such a song.
What would YOU DO in the middle of a titty crisis? I probably would have just stood there and gawked. Or invited her out to lunch.
I dunno. I guess you had to be there.
more blog wisdom
When I don't feel like writing, I surf blogs to see what other people are thinking. I find some really creative, concise and almost coherent Bits of Wisdom out there.
* "USMC: Only branch of the military conceived, created and formed for battle ... in a Bar!" No wonder they're such bad-asses, courtesy of this blog.
* “Now he’s dead, his eyes are open.” You had to be there, via dax Montana.
* "lots of people have suddenly decided that this place is about as appealing as the men's room in the Port Authority Bus Terminal." So sayeth jim, in a complaint unto his Site Meter.
* "There is nowhere else in the world for conservatives to go." That's why we're staying here. Brutal honesty from kim.
* "The CBS Manifesto: We know what the truth is -- what difference does it make if the facts don't support it?" I gotta meet this guy some day.
* "Lord, I love a man on a horse. Or a Harley." Uh... how about a riding lawn mower? Sometimes she makes me feel funny in my pants.
* "Well it's Saturday night and I aint got no money." Been there, done that. Via snug Harbor.
* "Just die dammit! Die you filthy, corrupt murdering bastard." the ville echos my sentiments about Yassir Arafat.
* "Arafat, in a gesture of love and respect for cheated should-be President John F. Kerry, nobly "reports for duty" in Heaven, even as….oh, Christ, I can’t go on, I can’t bear it. *sniff, sob*". Mike, at cold fury breaks down with grief. I feel his pain.
* "You may be suffering Post-Election Selection Trauma, my friend. There ain’t no cure. A group of PEST victims are meeting today in Sydney; please assist their recovery by laughing, singing, and otherwise expressing joy." I'll do MY part. Via tim blair.
* "I considered not showering for a week or two, but that would just be too gross and unfair to the rest of the household." I don't know why I picked this quote. I just DID. I think wimmen smell GOOD when they're just a little bit on the funky side. That scent stimulates my primordial instincts and gives me an intense urge to mate. No, darlin' that's not a proposition. It's just the usual filth spewing from my corrupt mind.
* "THIS is the biggest pile of steaming crap I have read this week." That's really saying something in the blogosphere, but I think stoney was pissed.
If anyone I linked believes that I took any of these quotes out of context, well... you can just bite me. You wrote it, and I borrowed it. You can have it back now.
it might work
Here is a real plan, which actually has some details, unlike that mysterious, undefined shit John Kerry was going to let us in on after he became President. Hell, this one might work to really energize the Democrat base. I say "GO FOR IT!" because what you did last time damn sure didn't work.
I'm just really curious about the uniforms these shock-troops are gonna wear.
I didn't want to forget to mention that the murdering, blood-soaked cocksuker is dead. I'm all for his doctor's idea of an autopsy, too--- and the sooner the better, just to make sure the bastard doesn't reanimate from the dead the way he's been doing for a week now. Cut him up in little pieces.
He was a
Western analysts said he had amassed a fortune — with estimates of $300 million to $1.3 billion — by diverting money from the Palestinian Authority.
Of course, maybe I'm wrong about Yassir. Jimmy Carter liked him.
why did I wait so long?
I've lived here in the Crackerbox for three years now, and ever since the day I moved in, I've wondered where a two-lane rut road goes from where it cuts away from the street at the back of the neighborhood and off into the woods. Today was a cool, cloudy fall day, and I felt like going for a walk. I loaded my derringer with rat-shot, clipped the pistol on my belt and went hiking off to see where that road went.
Bejus! It reminded me of the woods where I grew up as a boy. The "road," which really is just a set of tire ruts, seldom traveled by the looks of it (lots of fresh deer tracks on top of ancient tire tracks), snakes through the woods for about a half a mile before it dead-ends at what I believe is Little Ebineezer Creek. It turns into a footpath there and follows the creekbank quite a ways, farther than I wanted to walk. I did find several good fishing spots there, and that water looks like it might be thick with bream and crappie.
The woods are really open in places, with very little secondary growth among the trees. I saw numerous places that would make excellent campsites. I would love to take Quinton and Jack down there some evening and spend the night in a tent. It's really woodsy back there, and I'll bet a good ghost story around the campfire would have those boys trembling in their sleeping bags at night.
There's nothing back there but woods and creek. The land isn't posted and I saw no fences anywhere. I scared up a flock of turkey buzzards while I was walking around and they took to the trees with all kinds of squawking and gobbling, giving me the hairy eyeball. I wondered if they were dining or reclining when I disturbed them.
I walked out of there thinking that I don't need to drive to the woods to target shoot anymore. I've got a great range right there. I'm going back tomorrow if it's not raining. I'll see if I disturb any neighbors by walking down the street with a rifle in my hand.
I don't think I will.
i like it
I think this is a clever idea. The possibilities are endless.
you look mahhhhvelous!
I don't remember when this picture was taken or by whom. I found it on a disk under a bag of fossilized potato chips on my coffee table during one of my infrequent and half-assed housecleaning efforts today. I didn't know where that disk came from, so I slapped it in the computer.
Oh. My. THAT disk doesn't need to fall into the wrong hands. That'd be end end of MY political career once the tabliods ran with THOSE pictures. I'm gonna deny everything.
In fact, I don't believe it's a real picture. Somebody photoshopped that shit.
My hair NEVER looks that way in the morning.
I have some really good commenters on my blog. Here is a missive from one of my favorites, and I think it fits well with the post below.
Take a hard look at the map, rural , small town america has a different set of values than the urban swamps. The left coast which produces brain dead actors, tree huggers and computer programs is not the main stream, it never has been. What happened is the main stream, hard working , usually non voting population of the United States stood up and said, enough is enough. Main stream Amerca likes stability, security, and values hard work and fair play. Main stream America realizes gays exist but does not condone the life style. Main stream America realizes that there is a war on and we need a leader that will not bend with the political wind. Main steam America is tired of paying taxes to support people who choose not to work and live on welfare. Think about the message that was sent, think about all the main stream Americans that sent that message, they don't have or need fancy coffee, they drink plain coffee at 5AM go work and earn their pay and just want to be left the hell alone.
I think he may be Scots-Irish.
Christmas is coming soon, and I would be forever grateful if someone would buy this book for me. I don't usually solicit gifts or rattle my begging cup on this blog, but I'm going to make an exception here. I want that book.
I was born in the armpit of the Appaltachian Mountains and I come from a long line of Scots-Irish people. Except for my mama, almost every one of us has hazel-green eyes, a distinct Scots-Irish trait. I totally agree this this assessment of such people:
Their theme song is country music and when people talk about rednecks, this is the group they’re talking about: this is the group that voted for Bush.
I am one of those people and I never expect "intellectuals" to understand us. They think we're stupid. We believe that they are eat-up with the dumbass. I don't see either side changing the other's mind anytime soon. I just wish the lefties would stop the post-election hysterics and take a more Scots-Irish view of their defeat, just to maintain a little dignity.
"Yep. We got whupped, boys. Let's lick our wounds and get ready for next time. Always remember: The sun don't shine on the same dog's ass every day."
That may not be intellectual, but it works better than a temper tantrum.
To you who served your country so that I can live free: THANK YOU!
November 10, 2004
logic eludes them
Leftists are essentially brain-dead. How else do you explain this typical piece of leftist thinking in the comments on a previous post?
"See how deeply ingrained Political Correctness is in our society today? 50% of the people answering that question obviously believe that just because Arab males between the age of 20 and 42 were responsible for... well, 100% of the 9/11 terrorist attacks... that's no reason to SUSPECT Arab males of any potential wrongdoing when they want to board an airplane. No, wave Apu-Abdul right on through and search that Japanese woman in the wheelchair, just to be "fair." My aching ass."
Mike, where do I begin? First of all, the Oklahoma City bombing was carried out by a lone lunatic, acting on his own twisted thoughts, with one dimwit accomplice. It was not the beginning of a race war or a terrorist uprising. The bombing had nothing to do with the "race" of the perp, you bubbling douchebag. To suggest that Timothy McVeigh was no different than that bunch of Islamofascist murderers we're at war with today is either incredibly stupid or unbelievably naive. In other words, a typical nitwit leftist stance.
And I gotta ask... Huh? "Don't you remember all the chest-thumping non-sense about how you and the other gungoons were gonna overthrow the Government when Clinton was president?"
No... I don't remember thumping my chest and threatening, along with my gungoon friends, to overthrow the government when Clinton was President. Do YOU remember it, Mike? Were you off your meds at the time? Were YOU threatened by goony men with guns that only you could see? Are you POSITIVE that happened, or are you... just making shit up?
You're damn right terrorism is a domestic issue. The Democrats practiced it all during the election--- vandalizing Republican campaign offices, ripping up campaign signs, sending union thugs into crowds to intimidate citizens, slashing tires on Republican cars and even using gungoons to shoot up Republican campaign headquarters. Yeah, Mike. But I don't hear you mewling and moaning over that shit. That's because YOUR SIDE did it, and whatever your side does is automatically good because... well, it's your side and it's for the Cause. You poor, lobotomized fool.
This whole Jesusland thing has really turned my crank. Bush's reelection was a slam-dunk that repudiated the blue-state philosophy. The blue states didn't react by wondering, "where did we go wrong?" No, they jumped up, started screaming and flinging feces like rabid monkeys, while accusing most of the country of being ignorant. THE RABID MONKEYS couldn't be wrong! The rest of the country was just fucked-up.
Let 'em keep thinking that way. We'll see who's really fucked-up.
You can call me names, insult me, tell me that I'm stupid, hurl invectives at me or even tell people that I have cooties. I don't care. I cannot be insulted by someone I do not respect; if I do not respect you, your opinion doesn't register on my radar screen. I just try to aviod you the way I would dogshit on my lawn.
But there is one very irritating quality that most leftists share that really chaps my Cracker ass. They are so GOT-DAM CONDESCENDING!!! I HATE THAT SHIT!!! Who died and made these leftist, insulated, cocoon-dwellers The Sacred Keepers of True Wisdom in this country? I damn sure didn't elect them.
Insult me if you want to. I can handle that. I look at where the insult came from and I dismiss it immediately. I don't give a rat's ass what you think of me. Just DO NOT condescend to me. That's putting yourself on a pedistal that you don't deserve to occupy and my first gut instinct is to knock your pompous ass off of it.
I am reminded of something I once heard a big, easy-going friend of mine say when a yankee got too lubricated in a bar one night and started to tell my friend what he OUGHT to do, if he was smart, instead of being such a red-neck fool. The yankee was condescending.
My friend said (And I have NEVER seen this guy get in a fight, although he is big and strong as an ox), "Mister, the only person who talks to me like that is my daddy, and you ain't him. If you open your mouth again, I'm gonna be forced to shut it for ya. I suggest you either shut up or get outta here before something happens that we'll both regret tomorrow."
The yankee left before he got his jaw ripped off and shoved up his ass.
The sad part is, leftists don't even REALIZE that they're being condescending when they are. They've been condescending all their lives and that's the only behavior they know. You see, they're just so fucking SMART that they are CERTAIN that they must be right all the time. And if you can't see the light of their brilliance, you're a sheep, desperately in need of a wise shepherd. So, they treat you with condescention.
And they wonder why they lost the election.
these people have experience
Maybe we should listen to this idea as a solution to the red state/blue state crisis in the United States today. After all, Israel has been there and tried that, sorta.
The only thing missing to make it a really good plan is UN involvement.
When liberals don't get their way, they can throw pucker-butted temper-tantrums that would put a two year-old brat to shame. Bejus! It's time to start handing out the pacifyers and the pink anti-cholic medicine to these crybabies. And THEY wanted to run the fucking country? Waaah! Waaah! Waaah! What awesome qualifications they have.
Now some of the sore losers are talking about secession--- as if that's supposed to scare the shit out of people in Jesusland. I don't know if I speak for the majority of my fellow Jesusland citizens, but MY humble opinion is-- GET THE FUCK OUT!!! GO!!! Take your whiny, pouty, self-righteous selves to Canada or France or wherever else you want to go. Just GIT!!!
Trust me. We won't miss you.
The idea isn't just a joke; one top Democrat says, "The segment of the country that pays for the federal government is now being governed by the people who don't pay for the federal government."
Isn't that a wonderful piece of irony? Democrats have been working for YEARS to assure that people who didn't pay taxes voted for THEM, and that the Evil Rich would be raped to pay for all the wonderful government largesse dispensed by generous Democrats. Now that the grand plan has blown up in their faces, they are SHOCKED! How can people be so ignorant?
Or, you get this kind of vomitus:
"You know what? Just let me make one point. You were talking about the map before. If indeed all those blue states all got together and seceded from the union, think what would be left for those red states, nothing. There would be no educational system. You would have nothing. What would be left to you? I mean, where is all of this talent in this country? It's on both sides, the Northeast corridor." -Geraldine Ferraro to Sean Hannity on Hannity and Colmes, November 6.
I wish I could buy those people for what they are worth and then sell them for what they THINK they are worth. I'd give Bill Gates a run for his money. Just consider the sheer ARROGANCE and IGNORANCE in Ferraro's remarks. We in Jesusland are "nothing" without the blue states?
We grow your food, asswipe. We shoulder more than our fair share of military duty in this country. While your rustbucket northeast has decayed, our industrial base has thrived. We CREATE jobs while you lose them. You have Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream. We have Wal-Mart.
Yeah, we have our own schools, too... even colleges and universities. And believe it or not, indoor plumbing, running water and decent medical care are available in Jesusland, as primitive as we may be. Our weather is better, our wimmen are more beautiful and our men are more manly than that pack of botoxed harridans and gelded Alan Aldas you have freezing your asses off up north.
Fuck you and the misguided high horse you ride.
You know the biggest favor you could do for us ignert red-necks? SECEEDE!! Take your spoiled, candy asses to Canada or France and stop calling yourself Americans when you aren't. You people hate the very things we hold dear in Jesusland: Hard work. Self-reliance. Independence. Love of country. Honesty. Minding your own business. Respect for your fellow man.
You people have been holding us back from our true potential for decades. So, do us a favor and get the hell out of our way. But once you leave, don't ask to come back. You never liked it here anyway.
I LIKE it here. I just don't like YOU.
okay, it ain't great
Still, I'm not too disappointed by the spread on 5 shots from eight feet at a 4" X 3 3/4" target (that's the black UPS rectangle) slightly downhill the first time I fired the gun. The two inside the UPS shield were my last two shots. That little pea-shooter is fairly accurate for a derringer.
I want to wish a happy 229th birthday to the United States Marine Corps. Semper Fi!
Good night, Chesty Puller, wherever you are.
November 09, 2004
I read this post with great interest. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that I'm not too far out of the mainstream with my opinions about the War on Terror, but I'm not exactly IN the mainstream, either.
Would you favor or oppose the following measures to combat terrorism?
1. Working through the United Nations to strengthen international laws
Just as a feel-good gesture, I probably would favor that proposal, but I still believe that the UN is a fucking corrupt, incompetent clown-convention and it doesn't have the balls, the will or the ability to enforce International Law. I see no problem with granting the UN lip-service, just to make the preening poultroons happy, as long as we don't listen to anything they have to say.
2. U.S. air strikes against terrorist training camps?
Oh, HELL YES! Rain death from the sky on those murderous bastards. Blow them into bits so small that ants can carry the corpses away. Then, blow them up some more. If they want to be martyrs, let's give them every bit of assistance possible.
3. Attacks by U.S. ground troops against terrorist training camps?
See my answer to question #2. Kill the bastards before they get a chance to kill us. If we're going to call this a war, then let's fight it like one. Kill them all.
4. Assassination of individual terrorist leaders?
I've always puzzled over our reluctance to use assassination as a tool of war. It seems perfectly legitimate to me (you think the terrorists would balk at assassinating OUR President if they could?) and I believe that often, when you kill the head, the body dies. Israel should have assassinated Arafat years ago.
5. Using racial profiling in airport security checks?
See how deeply ingrained Political Correctness is in our society today? 50% of the people answering that question obviously believe that just because Arab males between the age of 20 and 42 were responsible for... well, 100% of the 9/11 terrorist attacks... that's no reason to SUSPECT Arab males of any potential wrongdoing when they want to board an airplane. No, wave Apu-Abdul right on through and search that Japanese woman in the wheelchair, just to be "fair." My aching ass.
6. Using torture to extract information from suspected terrorists?
I may surprise some people here. I do not believe that torture EVER is justified, under ANY circumstances. I'm not talking about sleep-deprivation or psychological trickery or putting panties on someone's head. I'm talking about vise-grips to the genitals, ripping out fingernails, using cattle-prods or just beating the shit out of somebody. That's barbaric behavior and we should not countenance it.
How about that? I'm a bloodthirsty, war-like bastard who wants our enemies dead, dead, dead by whatever means we can find... but I don't believe in torture under any circumstances. If we stoop that low, we're as sick as the people we are fighting.
Does that make any sense?
I stole this picture from marcus because for some reason, it made me think of Dan Rather.
I love blogs
I've felt really good today. Inhaling all that gunsmoke yesterday did did a complete makeover on my psyche. My depression is gone. I've had a hearty appetite. I feel ALIVE and SHARP and HONED.
That feeling won't last, but while it's here, I want to share some snippets of wisdom that I harvested from other blogs today.
"What can I say? I had a sordid childhood.". via the "sworded one".
"...they better keep their waxy hands off my butt.". via the got-dam mouth of the south.
"Slack. Ass." via this philosopher.
"Ted Rall would be proud." via evil white guy.
"Yes, I'm feeling rather chilled and exposed at the moment." AHEM! I won't speak of the picture that flashed in my perverted mind when I read that here, but stiff nipples were involved.
"It has occurred to me that while I may be an utterly useless human being devoid of all redeeming qualities, there is one thing I do well. No, I don't mean finding choice bits of rare midget porn. Although I AM really good at that. I mean cooking." via this guy.
"For instance, today I was thinking about why the sky is blue, how come frogs croak and where the darkness goes when you enter a room and turn on the light." You'll always find such wisdom here.
"Funny how CBS says that there is no journalism in the Blogosphere. That's exactly what the blogs are saying about CBS." via mad ogre.
"But I guess this is how aging, has-been fairies behave. I can call him that because I'm gay and we're allowed to eat our own..." from alphecca.
"If I could get me some Ingrid chili served in a bowl made from her upturned and hollowed out skull I might be tempted to take out a second mortgage on the house." via gramagus.
I like the way bloggers think.
Leftists can rejoice. Satan Himself has resigned from the Bush cabinet. Just in time, too. He was about to start sacrificing children to the Great and Powerful God Uulla any day now.
I'm not sorry to see him go, but I never thought he was the incarnation of pure evil, either. The guy had a tough job. I didn't always agree with the way he handled it, but he wasn't burning witches in the street the way some leftists suggested. Adios, John.
Okay, who's up next for the demon post?
this is just so wrong...
Why would anybody even consider this idea? Why would anybody actually buy and drink the shit once the bad idea came out in a bottle? I have lost all my faith in the nobility of mankind.
We are wretched, nasty creatures.
Send this link to one of your depressed liberal friends. It may help with the grieving process.
(Shamelessly stolen from here.)
I've written about it before, but I'm going to say it again: Poker is the very best card game in the world. It's a pure test of will, guile, intelligence, acting, brass balls and blind luck with money as the scorecard. You can reach the height of ecstacy or tumble into the pit of despair at the poker table, and sometimes you can do both on the same night.
I read a couple of other like-minded card-players who seem to think about poker much the way I do. It's a gamesman's game. You're playing your opponents, going for the POT, not going for the best hand every time. The cards fall as they will, but as "Cool Hand Luke" said, "sometimes nothing can be a cool hand."
Luck is not the ultimate factor. You need good cards to really clean house, but I submit that a good poker player will beat a poor poker player 9 times out of 10 even if the good player doesn't have the best cards. Knowing when to bet, how to bet and when to get the hell out are skills that you don't develop overnight. Some damn painful and expensive lessons went into teaching me what I know today.
I love poker. The only thing better than raking a big pot is sex, and the older I get, the more I... well, never mind. I don't like poker THAT MUCH yet.
Well, I suppose the weighty part depends on the ass. The idea of a Brazilian Butt-Lift just does strange things to the Acidman imagination. I thought. I pictured. Then, I just had to link that post.
I've found a lot of neat stuff on blogs today that made me stop and go "hmmmmmm...."
That was one of them.
don't try this at home
Having met this individual on several memorable occasions, I can testify that he ain't right in the head. He is a typical resident of Jesusland: salt of the earth, good as gold and crazy as a bedbug.
Who else do you know who would post something like this?
i couldn't help myself
I just had to steal this from a fellow guitar player (he's GOOD, too!). I don't know why, but the picture made me think of Democrats after last week's election.
Yeah. It's priceless.
verily I say...
Wisdom from Jesusland:
*Don't name a pig you plan to eat.
*Country fences need to be horse high, pig tight, and bull strong.
*Life is not about how fast you run, or how high you climb, but how well you bounce.
*Keep skunks, lawyers and bankers at a distance.
*Life is simpler when you plow around the stumps.
*A bumble bee is faster than a John Deere tractor.
*Trouble with a milk cow is she won't stay milked.
*Don't skinny dip with snapping turtles.
*Words that soak into your ears are whispered, not yelled.
*Meanness don't happen overnight.
*To know how country folks are doing, look at their barns, not their houses.
*Never lay an angry hand on a kid or an animal, it just ain't helpful.
*Forgive your enemies. It messes with their heads.
*Don't sell your mule to buy a plow.
*Two can live as cheap as one if one don't eat.
*Don't corner something meaner than you are.
*It don't take a very big person to carry a grudge.
*Don't go huntin' with a fellow named Chug-A-Lug.
*You can't unsay a cruel thing.
*Every path has some puddles.
When you wallow with pigs, expect to get dirty.
*The best sermons are lived, not preached.
*Most of the stuff people worry about never happens.
Yeah. We sure are ignorant in Jesusland.
Sam, over at the Briar Patch, has an interesting post about hostage-taking. I agree with his central point, although he is a little more John Wayne and less "nuanced" than I would be if I were in charge of a hostage situation.
I'm about to say something cruel and heartless here, and I'll probably offend a few people, but I didn't come to believe what I believe without thinking about it for a long time. Sometimes reality is harsh.
When faced with a hostage situation, we should proceed to end it with the assumption that all the hostages will die. We should act with force and ferocity, untempered by any fear of collateral damage, and we should behave that way EVERY SINGLE TIME. To act otherwise is to encourage more hostage-takers.
If we can get the kidnappers and save the hostages, that's just great, and we should try that tactic, but we NEVER should give the kidnappers what they want, or even let them THINK that they have a chance for what they want. The only negotiation is "Do you want to surrender, or die?" And if they choose door #2, give it to 'em.
Sam asks, "As a civilian, would you sacrifice your life for your country?"
That depends. I'm not much into that "sacrificing my life" mindset. I would much prefer to kill a terrorist for Jesusland and keep my own Cracker ass alive than to die for my country. But if I were in a hostage situation, I would chalk it up to a bad hand from the Deck of Life and expect the good guys to do what they needed to do to end this crap. If I died in the ensuing conflict, well... shit happens. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and I was swallowed up by events larger than I am.
And I would feel the same way if my son or daughter were one of the hostages.
a good deed
Damn if I didn't get some serious warming in the cocklear regions of my heart when I read this post. I don't want to make too big a deal over a simple act of kindness and thoughtfulness, but people, THAT IS THE GLUE THAT BINDS US!
We have 'way too much "hooray for me and fuck you" philosophy in this country. That crap makes us distrustful and suspicious and it builds walls between people. It's a sad state of affairs, and I believe that you sacrifice a great deal of your humanity if you chose to live that way. I don't believe that it's a natural way to be, either. It stifles the best impulses we have. If your idea of success is screwing somebody in a business deal to make money, you've got some fucked-up priorities.
Trust me. A random act of kindness, performed simply because you wanted to do it, rewards both you and the recipient many times over. That feeling is better than money.
That's my appetizer. Shrimp and oysters fried in Tempura batter, with a dash of Tarter Sauce on the side. The entree is rib-eye steak, grilled medium-rare, with mushrooms and a nice tossed salad. Hey! I'm hungry and I believe in conspicious consumption.
If I hadn't quit drinking two weeks ago, I'd have a glass of wine with that meal.
Ignorant denizens of Jesusland like this kind of story. We are easily entertained.
Of course, we have watermelon-seed-spitting contests, too.
follow the bouncing terrorist
Okay, he's dead. Good riddance.
Oops! MISTAKE! He's maybe not dead. Damn! That's a shame.
Actually, it's not a shame at all. For all his blustering, bullying and bastardy he pulled in his life, Arafat is going out the way he should: a broken, decaying shell of a man, rotting from the inside out, being kept alive by machines in the fervent hope that he'll tell his "supporters" where he hid all the money he stole before he dies. What a pathetic figure he is now.
So much for a great martyr.
I live in Jesusland. In fact, if Jesusland were a human body, I would be part of one of the really vital organs--- maybe not the heart or the brain, but at least the liver or pineal gland.
In Effingham County, Georgia, we have more churches than we do 7-11 stores. People take their God-fearing seriously here. I don't see anything wrong with people exercising their freedom of religion and as long as they don't come knocking on my door trying to recruit ME, and except for a few misguided Jehovah's Witnesses, they don't.
People get along well here. We don't have much crime, people are polite to one another and little children mind their manners. We get to know our neighbors and if somebody needs a hand with a project, you offer yours without being asked. They do the same for you. I live around a lot of nice people.
The fact that I'm an athiest never enters into that equation.
The bowel-plugged yankee whinebuckets who tear their hair and scream about the ignorance in Jesusland don't know what they're talking about. Those prick-fiddles have a lot more in common with the French than they do the people of Middle America. They claim to be "intellectual" when they don't have a lick of common sense. They claim to be "compassionate" when they spew hatred at anyone who disagrees with them. They claim to worship "diversity" when they scorn anyone who thinks differently than they do. They claim to be "tolerant," which is a cosmic joke.
I may live in "Jesusland," but it sure as hell beats that "Bizzaro World" those deluded fucknuggets inhabit. I'll tell you an honest truth. You'd have to scour Jesusland far and wide to find a fire-and-brimstone fundamentalist preacher more sanctimonious and intolerant than a northeastern liberal. And the preacher is one hell of a lot more honest about his beliefs, because he doesn't try to pretend to be something he's not, unlike a liberal.
We like to keep things simple. We like God, guts and guns. (Pickup trucks, good dogs, pretty wimmen and some of the best cooking on the planet aid in our struggle against the oppressive forces that other people see closing in on our country when we don't. We're more concerned with killing fire ants than we are with Global Warming. After all, we have hot weather ALL THE TIME down South.) Yeah, we are a quaint, provincial bunch.
Just a note from Jesusland, where I live, and where I am happy in my blissful ignorance of important issues.
The left says George Bush won the election because "ignorant" pople voted for him. I wonder what the left thinks of those sophisticates in France, you know, the intelligentsia who were supposed to be part of a "global test" we needed to pass before the United States did anything in our best interests.
The French regard Yasser Arafat as a hero rather than a terrorist, according to a new poll.
Yeah, Yasser Arafat is a regular fucking saint and George Bush is EEEEVILLL. If that kind of brain-fart is what passes for intellectual thought among the pate-eating crowd, I'd just as soon stay ignorant.
.357 Blackhawk, with gunslinger holster, .410 shotgun and .22 rifle. My buddies.
calling all martyrs
Here's a good post about the battle in Fallujah. I wouldn't want to be a jihadi in there right now.
"I got myself a real juicy target," shouted Sgt James Anyett, peering through the thermal sight of a Long Range Acquisition System (LRAS) mounted on one of Phantom's Humvees. "Prepare to copy that 89089226. Direction 202 degrees. Range 950 metres. I got five motherf****** in a building with weapons." A dozen loud booms rattle the sky and smoke rose as mortars rained down on the co-ordinates the sergeant had given. "Yeah," he yelled. "Battle Damage Assessment - nothing. Building's gone. I got my kills, I'm coming down. I just love my job."
Get 'em, boys!
November 08, 2004
they never grew up
Once upon a time, I was a liberal. Yes, sweet children, it's true. In 1968, I wanted George McGovern to become President. I wasn't old enough to vote at the time, but I was a McGovern fan. I thought the guy had a lot of good ideas.
I was as full of shit as a Christmas turkey.
I remained fairly liberal through my first couple of years of college. I was young, dumb and full of cum, living in a psychedelic world full of idealism and ignorance. I never opposed the Vietnam War, and I never joined a protest, because I knew too many guys fighting there, and to be against the war was to oppose THEM in my mind. I couldn't do that. I played football with a lot of those guys.
But I never volunteered to go fight myself. I won the draft lottery and was delighted with my good fortune. Had I been drafted, I would have gone. But I didn't have to... lucky me.
I don't know when exactly I started to evolve into the person I am now, but I think it started with an English Literature course called: "Existentialism: Man in the Face of Chaos." I got really carried away there. I read every book required for the course, plus a lot of other stuff I ran across in bibliographies. It blew my mind.
People had been pondering "What is the True Meaning of Life" and writing about it for centuries. No two of those great philosophers agreed on what life really means. That's when I decided: That question has no universal answer.
My basic philosophy NOW is, "We're all in this alone. Then, we die." Yeah, I am a jaded old fart, but I try to live a good life, not out of fear of punishment, but because it's the right thing to do. That's MY decision. Once I abandoned the concept of a "Brotherhood of Man," my liberal inclinations drained out of me like used motor oil, but that transformation didn't turn me into an evil man.
I just stopped swallowing the cant and started thinking for myself. I believe that I grew up.
Too many leftists can't do that today.
I went out and shot some of the guns I don't own today.
I was depressed yesterday, and I didn't sleep well last night. I miss my boy and sometimes I start really getting down in the dumps about my situation. I try not to dwell on things I can't do anything about, but sometimes the old mind just doesn't want to cooperate. You get a brain-worm that just won't go away.
I still had that worm when I woke up this morning. I could feel the walls closing in on me. I knew that I couldn't just sit around and fester all day, so I went and got the haircut I planned to get. Hey! I resemble a respectable human being now! I musta lost 10 pounds of hair.
When I got back home, I opted for some therapy. I loaded up a .357 magnum, two .22s, a .38, a .410 shotgun and
People who fear guns or hate guns don't know what they're missing. I may have shot-up $35 worth of ammo, but that's cheaper than a visit to a shrink, and a lot more effective in my book. When you shoot, you concentrate on shooting and everything else goes away. It can be absolute bliss.
If you don't believe me, try it sometime.
I am totally amazed by the outrage, the grief and the whiny-assed temper tantrums thrown by the Left since the reelection of George Bush. Bejus! If you listen to those people, you'd think we just elected the Anti-Christ as President. It's Armageddon. It's the end of life as we know it. WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!!!
My aching ass. It was a got-dam ELECTION, people, not an invasion from outer space. I've never seen such wild hyperventilation and swooping vapors since that palmetto bug flew down Aunt Tessie's bodice at the Orchid Club garden party in 1971. Even then, with a huge insect fondling her ample breasts, she maintained more decorum than most Democrats have lately.
Those idiots are acting as if their dog died, they were just diagnosed with terminal cancer and their mama got run over by a train. WTF? Pardon my lack of sympathy for these hystronics, but if I could deal with two terms of Bill Clinton, YOU can pull your head out of your ass and deal with two terms of George Bush.
Life is rough. You don't always get what you want. You can sit on your pity pot and cry, you can leave the country in a fit of outrage, or you can do us all a favor by committing suicide to get your weak ass out of the gene pool. None of that will change a damn thing. We won. You lost. The end.
Yeah, all we Crackers, gap-toothed red-necks, Bible-thumping evangelists, truck-driving yahoos, gun-toting hillbillies and Deliverance types shore are ignert. We ain't never gonna be as smart as you-all yankees. We'd feel real bad about that, too, if we gave a shit what you think of us.
We think you're a bunch of sick fucks.
Think about this for a moment:
The trouble with fighting for human freedom is that one spends most of one's time defending scoundrels. For it is against scoundrels that oppressive laws are first aimed, and oppression must be stopped at the beginning if it is to be stopped at all. -H. L. Mencken
Oppressive laws may be aimed at scoundrels at first, but the government never fails to warp that law to whatever purpose it chooses farther down the road. Just look at the rico Act, for crying out loud. That law was supposed to target organized crime. It morphed into a tort-lawyer's wet dream instead, becoming a vehicle to pilot lawsuits against Tobacco Companies, abortion clinics, and whatever else some clever lawyer could dream up. Rico didn't destroy Organized Crime, but it damn sure destroyed a lot of our liberty.
That's why I don't like the Patriot Act. If it CAN be abused, government and lawyers will abuse it. It's not a question of when, but how and how badly. I love my country, but I don't trust my government and I have no use at all for fucking lawyers. Maggots.
Give me a lone scoundrel who wants to break into my house, do me harm and steal my things. I believe that I can deal with him.
But if government scoundrels or lawyers get after your ass, you are fucked. Period. Even if you're innocent of any crime, you'll go broke trying to prove it and clear your name. An ordinary citizen cannot win a fight against the State. That's an implacable, heartless, soul-less entity, made up of thousands of heads, all part of a Borg Collective, and it will grind you to sawdust if you dare attract its fancy.
The time to stop oppressive laws passed long ago in this country. We're stuck with an oppressive government now, because government NEVER gives up power once it has it, and it always wants more. What it can't get through legislation, it attempts to get through the courts. Citizens are meat for the sausage grinder.
And that's gonna happen no matter who is President. We just have too many got-dam laws today.
that's a rant
This guy's full of shit, but at least he's passionate.
"Fuck the South," indeed.
November 07, 2004
i see a pattern
I've been to two blog-meets and read numerous accounts of others elsewhere in the country. They all go a lot like this. I can't imagine a blog-meet being one of those quiet, coffee-house whisper-fests that beatnicks did in the late 50s. No, I see more of a controlled riot, with lots of alcohol, cigarette smoke, off-key singing and maybe a pair of panties whirling around on the ceiling fan.
And if the next day you remember everything that happened, you didn't drink enough.
I didn't feel like writing today. I woke up in a foul mood and I never shook it off. After I took a shower this morning, I decided to shave my beard, so I did. I kept the moustache. I'm gonna get a haircut tomorrow, too, and try to look somewhat civilized again. My last haircut was 15 months ago. I resemble a combination of Fido's Ass and an Old Hippie.
Today was a beautiful fall day, so I decided to take a Sunday drive. Effingham County is perfect for that sort of thing, because county roads criss-cross the land and you can get to the middle of nowhere fast. There's really not a whole lot to see, just pine barrens, mobile homes, farms, churches and miles of curving road, but I did some exploring and enjoyed the ride.
I don't know how I ended up there, but I found myself on Highway 30, just a few miles away from my old mini-farm. I drove by to look at it. Hey! They've paved the road! The old casa looks good, too. Damn, but I loved that place. That's where I intended to live the rest of my life, once upon a time. Oh, well.
Hell, I thought ... since I'm HERE, I'm only a few miles away from...
I did something that could have gotten me in trouble. I drove by Jennifer's house. I was hoping to see Quinton playing outside. I haven't seen my boy since Father's Day, and that visit lasted all of two minutes. I wanted to SEE him. I'm his DADDY! I miss him a lot.
But he wasn't outside and I didn't stop. I drove around a while longer, aimlessly, just driving to be driving, and then I went back to the Crackerbox. I fried the pound of shrimp I bought yesterday and ate a sumptious meal while watching NFL football. I don't remember who was playing because I didn't care about the game. I was thinking about Quinton.
Yeah. It was a shitty Sunday.
This is cruel. Post a picture of those lovely red FINGERNAILS and don't post a TOE-SHOT, too? That's just plain mean.
As fetishes go, I don't think my red toenail kink is that bad. I mean, it sure as hell beats coprophelia or necrophelia. I just happen to get a real thrill out of pretty, red, feminine toes. I am, literally, a "sucker" for them. And I also have discovered, through countless hours of research, that toes are an erogenous zone for some wimmen.
But I digress, and I'm starting to fog up my monitor...
I do have one question about that post. If her old man thinks posting a picture of her red toenails on a blog is the same as posting hard-core pornography, does he allow her to wear sandals?
why i like comments
It's a pain in the ass to de-spam my comments every day, but it's worth the effort to me, because occasionally I get some really good feedback from readers. Take this post below. Johannes, who I assume is German, offers a good look at the European opinion of George Bush, and it's not pretty. But most Americans who pay any attention to European politics don't think Germany is very pretty today, either.
It is dangerous to be a foreigner in your country and you can be sent to prison without reason. There is "America first" patriotism, and you want to rule the world. And the Bush government invented this strange war against non-existent enemy to keep the people following.
Yep. We have gangs of government thugs arresting foreigners left and right today and sending them to prison for no reason. It's a goddam jungle out there. We also have a government department responsible for Pulling the Wings Off Flies, too. We'll work our way up to better things when we evolve past "Gestapo Lite."
My aching ass.
Beware an ignorant person who makes up his mind on a subject he knows nothing about. Arguing with such a person is like talking to a wall. You won't make an impact. And I believe that ANY European has a lot of gall to criticize the United States of America for having a set of balls. Those girly-men gave up their cods a long time ago, and they don't WANT them back, because with balls comes responsibility. They chose the illusion of "security" over freedom a long time ago.
I prefer this idea about Americans:
When one examines Brian Reade's anatomy of redneck disfigurements - "gun-totin', military-lovin', abortion-hatin' " - most of them are about the will to survive, as individuals and as a society. Americans tote guns because they're assertive citizens, not docile subjects of a permanent governing class. They love their military because they think there's something contemptible about Europeans preening and posing as a great power when they can't even stop some nickel'n'dime Balkan genital-severers piling up hundreds of thousands of corpses on their borders.
Docility has NEVER been an American trait and I hope it never becomes one. The fact that we are NOT docile and we DO NOT believe in subservience to a governing class are the best guarantees we have that government will not become totalitarian and run roughshod over our rights. Johannes, I hate to tell you this, but YOUR government is more of a menace to you than ours would be if you came here.
As Americans were voting on marriage and marijuana and other matters, the Rotterdam police were destroying a mural by Chris Ripke that he'd created to express his disgust at the murder of Theo van Gogh by Islamist crazies. Ripke's painting showed an angel and the words "Thou Shalt Not Kill". Unfortunately, his workshop is next to a mosque, and the imam complained that the mural was "racist", so the cops arrived, destroyed it, arrested the television journalists filming it and wiped their tape. Maybe that would ring a bell with Oliver James's mum.
Welcome to the European Union. Now, tell me again how the US is "fascist?"
November 06, 2004
i'll post about it, too
I have a ritual when I sit down at the computer to begin my blog-day. I check my email first, and spend however much time it takes to weed out the spam comments (252 this morning). After I get rid of the shit, I try to reply to as many emails as I can, although I never get around to all of them. If I missed you, I apologize.
I usually surf a few blogs before I start writing. That exercise gets me in the mood. I check some news links and see if I find any good fodder. Sometimes, I find EXCELLENT FODDER, but other people already wrote about it before I did. Just Damn! If somebody else already beat that horse to death, I'm not going to go there.
But occasionally, a story is just too good to pass up, such as this one. EVERYBODY will be blogging about Arafat's death, and I'm not going to miss that boat. I'm going to write him a damn good obituary.
Besides, I think the bastard is already dead. You don't think "Arafat's spokesman" would lie to us, do you?
Nope. The Democrats don't resemble a religious cult. They don't have suicidal maniacs in their ranks.
I really don't understand that kind of behavior. This is the United States of America. It's NOT a third-world banana republic where a dictator can take over and rule with an iron fist, with the military to back him up, no matter what the people think. The Left seems to believe that we're on the brink of becoming a nation ruled by jack-booted thugs.
I call bullshit! George Bush IS NOT Hitler, and if you think he is, you're out of your fucking mind. Plus, how can you people call him a "moron" and a "chimp" and then accuse him of launching the most Machivallian, sinister, complicated and devious scheme in the history of the country?
Oh. That was all Karl Rove? Whatever.
Darwin Award candidates just keep rolling in.
Did you like to hear scary bedtime stories when you were a kid? I did. The scarier the story, the more I liked it, too, even if it gave me nightmares. My great-grandmother told stories about "Red-Eye," some monsterous creature that came in the night and snatched misbehaving little boys out of bed and ATE THEM! She made it clear to me and my brother that Red-Eye was watching and waiting to get US if we didn't do what she said.
We behaved. We didn't want Red-Eye to eat us, and he was just as real as the moon and stars when I was seven years old. Old Red-Eye scared the shit out of me. I BELIEVED that crap.
But I eventually outgrew Red-Eye and other monsters from the scary stories. I became an adult (where I learned to fear wimmen) and I put away those childish fantasies. I came to realize that scary stories are designed to entertain you, but also to make you behave in a certain way. If you do a good enough job of frightening people, they'll do what you say. Fear is a great motivator.
That's what's wrong with the Left today. They see Red-Eye coming to eat them when there IS NO RED-EYE!!! Bejus! Just read some of the liberal editorials and the left-leaning blogs in the election aftermath. RED-EYE WON!!!! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!!!!!
Let's see... okay, the Religious Right is taking over the country. Red-State Rednecks are gonna start lynching Negroes again. Bush will use the Patriot Act to kidnap your children into a life of slavery. GUNS WILL BE EVERYWHERE!!! (not a bad idea, in MY humble opinion.) Abortion will be outlawed, homosexuality will carry a death sentence and BUSH IS GONNA POISON THE ENVIRONMENT!!!! He'll put arsenic in the water, toxins in the air and radiation in our food!!! He's gonna REINSTATE THE DRAFT!!!
Never mind that all those charges are a big, stinking, lying bag of shit. A lot of otherwise sane people actually believe that way. It's a shame that some people never grow up, because there's plenty of REAL things to worry about without going off the deep end about Red-Eye. But you can't convince a leftie of that fact. They are True Believers.
Red-Eye will get you if you don't watch out.
i need it
Somebody send me some of this. Bejus knows, I need it. I am not the man I once was.
Gravity is more powerful than it's supposed to be. Pussy is stronger than it used to be. Uphill is more uphill than I remember it being. Downhill is REALLY downhill, with no brakes. Bejus. I'm so decrepit now that when I'm putting groceries in my truck, OLD MEN come over in the parking lot and offer to help me unload the buggy because THEY feel sorry for me.
Gaaah! I hate falling apart once piece at a time.
(Thanks, I think, to jim for the link.)
the mind is a terrible thing
I am beginning to distrust my subconscious mind. I've ALWAYS been suspicious of it, because it is awake when I'm asleep and I never know what it's up to when I'm away. Once upon a time, I believed that my subconscious mind was not my friend, but at least it was a COMPANION that I could get along with.
It occasionally gave me some really fucked-up dreams, but it also helped me study my way through college. That's no kidding. I always studied for a big test right before I went to sleep. I woke up the next morning remembering shit that I didn't know the night before. My subconscious mind never stopped studying.
I often sat down and wrote a 30-page term paper at one sitting, with no outline and no rough draft. My subconscious mind already had the paper composed. All I had to do was type it. Good subconscious.
Lately though, I believe that my subconscious mind is plotting revolution, a coup d'etet against me. It's tired of lurking in the background and kow-towing to my conscious mind while getting no credit for its work. It's trying to take over. It means it, too.
Last night, I dreamed that I could play the accordian.
Well... what can I say? Sometimes I deserve it.
My beloved Georgia Bulldawgs beat Kentucky 62-17 today. Yeah, the game was a blowout, but it SHOULD have been. Kentucky is not only the worst team in the Southeastern Conference--- they are one of the worst teams in the country. Georgia did what they should have done to them.
Now, let's see if the Dawgs can jock up for next week against Auburn. That will be one hell of a game. Georgia had better play with zero defects if they intend to win.
I needed some groceries this morning, so I went to Kroger's, and then ended up stopping off at a local seafood market and buying a pint of fresh Harris Neck oysters (shucked) and a pound of shrimp. I ate every one of the oysters (raw) with some tabasco sauce and horseradish while I watched football.
Those small Harris Neck oysters are incredibly delicious. They are salty, slick and sublime. Pop one in your mouth and you become one with the marsh, the salt water, the tides and all the creatures therein. Savor that experience. Mother Ocean, I can TASTE YOU!
Tennessee put me right off my oysters by losing to Notre Dame this afternoon. Bejus on a bicycle! Georgia fucked up, played like Fido's ass and let the Volunteers beat them earlier this year. That made Tennessee the flagship of the SEC East. And the Volunteers honor that position by letting a bunch of interlopers from South Bend, Indiana beat them in Neyland Stadium?
Today is a sad day for the South. But the oysters were good.
November 05, 2004
Jawja Blog-Meet debauchery here.
Mainstream Media took a big hit in the credibility department this year. They discovered, much to their anger and chagrin, that new watchdogs were watching the old watchdogs for a change. They got their asses fact-checked and often came up wanting.
Bloggers did that. A lot more people know what a blog is now than before the election. Dan Rather knows (BWHAHAHAHAH!!!). He might appreciate this poem.
I certainly did.
Looking for a Christmas gift for that hard-to-buy for person on your list?
One trait of leftists that really chaps my Cracker ass is that smug air of superiority they wear like a cloak. They are self-appointed nobles, a cut above the rabble and the riff-raff of middle America. Intellectually, morally and spiritually, they consider themselves to be The Elite, always correct on every issue.
If you don't follow them blindly, it's not because you disagree with their ideas. Oh, no. It's because you don't UNDERSTAND those ideas. You're just too fucking stupid to get it.
Go read this and take another look at that red/blue election map. We sure do have a lot of stupid people in this country. I must be one of them because I voted for Bush.
The error that progressives have consistently committed over the years is to underestimate the vitality of ignorance in America. Listen to what the red state citizens say about themselves, the songs they write, and the sermons they flock to. They know who they are—they are full of original sin and they have a taste for violence. The blue state citizens make the Rousseauvian mistake of thinking humans are essentially good, and so they never realize when they are about to be slugged from behind.
Take a valium, Jane. Bush won. I suppose that means for ME, ignorance is bliss.
(UPDATE: El Capitan performs his first fisking on his new blog.)
the final frontier
I don't know where jim found this site, but it is a must-visit for... hell, I don't know. It was a must visit for ME, anyway.
Boldy go here.
Go check out these photographs, but be warned. You'll need a barf-bag if you don't share certain blue-state values.
Link shamelessly stolen from here.
November 04, 2004
I was thinking about writing a post about what Bush should do with his second term, but this guy beat me to it. I believe that he laid out a pretty good plan there.
As for me, I just hope that Bush maintains his resolve to win the War on Terror, caps the gusher of domestic spending he's allowed for four years and goes after the Democrats fang and claw if they try more of their obstructionist tactics to stall the Bush agenda.
Bush isn't running for office now. I want to see the real man.
is he dead yet?
Nobody's saying for sure yet, but it shouldn't be long. The blood-soaked bastard is sinking fast.
I don't believe in the afterlife, but if their IS one, I hope Yassir Arafat gets the seat right next to the fire where he belongs.
(UPDATE: There HAD to be a pool somewhere and there it is. I say Saturday 11/6/04 at 0638.)
I don't know if these numbers are correct, but I'm going to post them anyway. I received them in a email and they look about right to me.
Source: The Political Junkie Handbook
Bush 2000/Bush 2004
Assuming that the numbers weren't simply pulled out of someone's ass, I am puzzed by two things. First, Bush LOST support among Protestants from 2000 to 2004? Somehow, that statistic doesn't fit with the Religious Right plotting to take over the country the way Democrats said.
Second, why do the vast majority of Jews vote Democratic? I've NEVER understood that phenomenon. Do American Jews dislike Israel? They must, because it damn sure ain't the Rebublicans sucking up to Yassir Arafat and kissing on his wife. Democrats do that.
But HEY! Republicans made giant inroads into the black community this time. From 8% to 11% of the vote is a 40% increase!!!
That's a step in the right direction.
If you're a Democrat, I'll bet seeing all that red makes you feel blue. You should. Outside of urban population centers and a few leftist asylums in New England, you don't have a whole lot going for you. But that's not because you're not delivering the right message to the people. Oh, no. The message is BRILLIANT.
Those morons in the hinterlands are just too stupid to understand it.
the youth vote
Remember that much-ballyhooed "youth vote" that was supposed to roll to the polls and sweep John Kerry to victory? You know, the "youth vote" that never showed up? Yeah. That one.
I'm sure the "youth vote" enjoyed the rock concerts and all the publicity, but when push came to shove, the "youth vote" couldn't be bothered to put down their Playstation II games and make it to the polls. The Democrats believed that they had discovered another mother lode of dupes to vote for them, but the "youth vote" duped the Dems instead.
Oh, well. At least the Democrats kept their lock on the dead man vote.
According to this lovely lady, I am a blog-grandparent now.
Go check out the bouncing bundle of joy here.
I am all for this idea, although I'm more inclined to favor the death penalty over prison.
A conman who sent millions of junk emails has been jailed for nine years in the first prosecution of its kind.
Of course, now I see why those maggots do what they do.
Prosecutor Russell McGuire said Jaynes from Raleigh, North Carolina, amassed a net wealth of $24 million peddling worthless products to AOL customers.
If that kind of money can be made from spamming, nobody's going to stop it. Still, we need to throw as many spammers as possible in jail.
Maybe that would at least slow down the traffic.
When I saw Arlen Spector trailing in the early returns, I hoped that the trend would hold. I have never liked the man, even if he does claim to be a Republican. I'll never forgive him for that weasel "not proven" vote during the Clinton impeachment. What a no-balls vote that was.
But the dickhead won, and now he's rattling his saber about how he intends to run the Senate Judiciary Committee.
The Republican expected to chair the Senate Judiciary Committee next year bluntly warned newly re-elected President Bush today against putting forth Supreme Court nominees who would seek to overturn abortion rights or are otherwise too conservative to win confirmation.
Yeah. The Court lacks "giants" but the senate has YOU, right? Asswipe.
November 03, 2004
what does it mean?
President Bush's solid victory in yesterday's election provoked a response from the Democratic Underground that I find typical of Leftist thinking:
I cannot possibly put into words how disappointed, angry, and perplexed I am right now. The reported results coming out of Florida and Ohio simply make no sense to me. I cannot comprehend how we could have such a massive increase in turnout and not win the election. To paraphrase that little weasel Tucker Carlson: You don't wait in line for five hours to vote for more of the same. Who knows, maybe some people really would wait in line for more of the same. But my impression is that something just stinks here. As EarlG told me this morning: The result is either massively fraudulent or deeply disturbing.
I vote for "deeply disturbing."
I sometimes don my Level-A Haz-Mat suit and wade into the DU for a few laughs. That place has more asswittery per square inch than any other blog on the planet, and the people posting there believe that they are brilliant and reflective of the mood across America. How could their candidate possibly lose the election unless the Republicans cheated?
The Democrats need to take a good look at that red state/ blue state map; then, think about the word "values." Mainstream America does not share the values (whatever the hell they are) of the Democrat party and I believe that fact cost the Dems this election.
I also believe that trotting out Michael Moore (okay... they didn't trot him... they ROLLED the fat bastard onto the stage) as a spokesman for the party was a mistake. Moore's hysterical antics in Florida didn't seem to help the cause. All Moore did was show people how anti-American lefties have become today.
You don't win back red states by having Bill Mahar read translated exerpts from Osama Bin Laden's latest video while the crowd cheers the anti-American screed and Maher says that he agrees with a lot of what Osama said. You WOULD, Bill.
Keep up the good work, Democrats. I don't want you running my country, and if you keep going the way you're going, I won't have to worry about it.
George Bush won. John Kerry lost. End of story.
I promise not to gloat. Oh, I am mightily tempted to jump up and down, shout "neener, neener, neener" and go "BWHAHAHAHAAA!!!" But I'm not going to do that. At least you won't SEE me do that. What goes on in my mind is my business.
I promise not to drop trou and moon Michael Moore, George Soros, Barbra Striesand or Bruce Springstein. I promise not to ask why all the celebrities who vowed to leave the country if Bush won are still here. I promise not to tell Dan Rather to kiss my Cracker ass.
Whoa! I'm getting carried away here. Forget that last one. Dan Rather, kiss my Cracker ass.
Bush won. Kerry lost. I intend to be a gracious winner, because today is a good day to be an American.
November 02, 2004
Read this post and try to imagine how a $1 bill managed to get from Rhode Island to Colorado. If George could talk, he'd have interesting stories to tell.
I'll be interested to see how well this guy did on his predictions about the outcome of today's election. I certainly hope his magic eight-ball works.
So, here are MY predictions:
Bush will defeat Kerry by a margin much larger than the polls suggest. Bush will win the popular vote, too.
Tom Daschle will lose. Johnny Isakson will stomp Denise Majette and Georgia's US Senators will both be Republicans. Florida goes handily to Bush.
We know who is President before Thanksgiving, unlike 2000.
Here is an exerpt from an email I received today:
LIsten yoiu sorry sack of pus. I just cancelled out your vote and only wish I lived in Georgia so I could vote two or three more times. Bush is sacked, sent back to Texas. HURRAH!
See what I mean about most Kerry supporters? They don't have a fucking clue. I may be a "sorry sack of pus," but at least I know that YOU can't cancel MY vote unless you live in Georgia, which you don't, numbnuts.
Ever hear of the Electoral College, you pathetic, pea-brained cumbucket? Your vote in any state other than Georgia has NOTHING to do with my vote here. And if you want to vote two or three more times, go to St. Louis or Chicago. Fuckin' cretin.
Fan mail. I love it.
I couldn't have put it any better myself.
(Picture shamelessly stolen from here.)
don't get technical
This hindu bastard is trying to screw up my over/under bet on the election. He makes a valid point, but I still don't believe that dead people, dogs, cats, or cartoon characters who vote Democrat will push the "over" to 70%. I figured in the 10% Democrat voter fraud factor when I made my bet.
Besides, we have michael moore and his band of merry cameramen out in force today, guarding the polling places to ensure that the election is fair. Or ensuring that Fat Mike gets enough footage to make another propaganda movie. Or... hell, I don't know what the fat bastard is doing except hogging the spotlight.
I wonder if he filmed any of the voting machines in philadelphia?
Here is an interesting article about voting for President. I don't know whether I believe his central thesis or not.
I see three kinds of people when I vote. First are the die-hard Democrats or Republicans who vote a straight party ticket every time. They don't stay in the booth long. Click one lever, pull the handle and the voting is done.
Second are the informed voters who don't intend to vote a straight ticket. You can recognize them by the sample ballots they usually have in their hands. These people listened to the candidates, decided who to vote for, and then used a sample ballot to prepare. They don't stay in the booth long, either.
Third are the ones who should be dragged off and shot. These people haven't listened to a damn thing during the campaigns, haven't glanced at a sample ballot and they don't have a fucking CLUE who they intend to vote for until they step into the booth. They can damn sure clog a voting line.
They drive me crazy. They'll be in that booth for 30 freaking minutes, going "eenie, meenie, minie, moe" over everything on the board. They sometimes stand there so long that I start to believe that they died standing up. Bejus help us if referendums are on the ballot. These idiots will read every one of them for the first time in the voting booth, and onlt THEN try to make up their minds.
I think we should set up voting the way grocery store checkout lines operate. We need a couple of express lanes, you know... one of those "10 items or less" registers for people who want to shit and get in a hurry. Let all the cluless dingbats stand in line with their ilk.
I really don't see many "deep breath" voters. But I DID like this:
Then there is Teresa.
Yeah, you're gonna need a deep breath after picturing Teresa as First Lady.
Here are ten reasons why I voted for George Bush:
10. The moonbat left. If Kerry wins, the Moveon.org people will be convinced that LUNACY WORKS and they'll never go away.
9. Bush is gonna reinstate the draft. If Bush wins and DOESN'T reinstate the draft, will a single Democrat demagogue admit, "I was wrong?"
8. Bill Clinton. I am against ANYONE Bill Clinton campaigns for. If Bush wins, you can bet your sweet ass that he ain't gonna ask Clinton for advice. I can't say the same for Kerry.
7. Larry Flynt. I want to see if means it, or if he's just pulling an Alec Baldwin. Leftist assclowns are always threatening to leave the country if an election doesn't go their way, but the never leave. Dammit!
6. Swift Boat Veterans. When the people he served with despise a "war hero" such as Kerry, something ain't right. Kerry could stop a lot of speculation about his performance in Vietnam if he simply released his service records. He won't do it. What's he hiding? Besides his Fonda-Kerry behavior after the war was reprensible.
5. John Edwards. Scum-sucking, ambulance-chasing, well-coiffed asswipe. I don't want that sleazy bastard anywhere near the White House.
4. Dick Cheney. Anybody so hated and villified by the Left is my kind of guy.
3. Europe. Fuck Europe. I don't give a rat's ass whether Europe likes us or not, and I'll be damned if what WE need to do must pass some kind of "Golbal Test" before we do it.
2. Teresa Heinz-Kerry. ARRRGGGGHHH!!!! MY EYES!!! The very idea of that harridan becoming First Lady curdles my blood.
1. The War On Terror. John Kerry does not have the balls to fight this war. Bush does. That reason alone was enough for George Bush to win my vote.
let the games begin
According to drudge, poll watchers found nearly 2,000 votes already registered on voting machines in Philadelphia before the polls opened. Must be those wascally webublicans engaging in their dirty tricks and election-theft.
After all, Philadelphia IS a Republican stronghold, right?
November 01, 2004
quote for the day
John Kerry? "He is a man no one should worry about, because he has no beliefs at all. He is not going to introduce some manic radical plan, because he is poll-driven, and it is therefore impossible to know where or for what he stands."
--Tom Wolfe in the guardian.
He surely didn't pull any punches with his post. I can't argue with a damn thing he said, either.
i'll bet the under
Over at suburban blight, Kelley is convinced that voter apathy is a thing of the past. In fact, she believes that people are so polarized, so energized and so mesmerized by this election that voter turnout will exceed 70%. I hope she's right, but I don't think so.
I don't know how many of you ever bet on football games (I would never do such a thing. It's illegal in Georgia), but one of the bets you can make is the "Over" or "Under" on total score. For example--- last weekend Georgia beat Florida 31-24 (I LOVE being able to work that line into a post!). Total points=55)
I believe that the over/under on that game was 48 points. I you bet "over," you won. If bet "under," you lost. See how it works?
If Kelley is offering 70% as the over/under number, I'm betting everything I own on the Under. You couldn't get 70% of our lazy-assed, disinterested voters to show up at the polls for ANYTHING. If voter turnout exceeds 60%, I will be astonished.
Froth and lather, sound and fury and great weeping and gnashing of teeth marked every step of the Presidential campaign, at least according to those paid to either cause or report on froth, lather, sound, fury, tears and sound-bites. They TRIED to polarize, but I don't believe that even their best efforts are enough to overcome good, old American voter apathy.
This is a bet I hope I lose, but I'll take the Under.
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