Tilting at Ginmills & Whacking at Molehills

Inspirational Newt

2011-11-15T14:38:00.003-06:00

I
There once was a fella named Newt
Who coveted all of the loot.
With a smile on his face
And no hint of disgrace
He'd give his 3rd wife The Big Boot.

II
There once was a fella named Newt
Who did seem like quite the galoot.
With a mouth well past full
The strings he did pull
And made Herman Cain go kaput.

III
GINGRICH! One hell of a name!
Made others sit back and exclaim:
"With a name spelled like that -
And an apron so fat -
Our passions he he can't help inflame!"

IV
With Eye of Newt, Spawn of Hate,
The Other we all should berate.
But when it is known
How much he did owe,
They'll all say, "Not HIM! We will wait!"

Well, Allow Me to Re-TORT....

2011-02-14T13:39:00.000-06:00

A friend of mine sent me one o' them "funny" chain e-mails a few days ago. In it, the original "author" relayed the "hilarious" story of a gun-suckler who lived next to a liberal (I pointed out we prefer the term "DurtyStinkin'Commie-Fasco L-l-l-l-ib'ral) who liked to stir the pot. The fetishist put a sign in his yard with the following text:

"BURGLARS! My neighbor is a gun-control advocate. Feel free to rob him, but THESE premises are protected by guns."

The sign had a large arrow on top, pointing to his neighbor's house.

OH, the HEE-LARITY! However, as a gun-owning DurtyStinkin'Commie-Fasco L-l-l-l-ib'ral, I thought of an appropriate response:

"BURGLARS! My neighbor has a LOT of guns which you can easily trade on the black market for drugs or money! And he's a TERRIBLE shot."

The arrow would point right back at him....

The 2nd Amendment goes both way, bitches, even if DurtyStinkin'Commie-Fasco L-l-l-l-ib'rals don't view it as a religious document. And I'm sorry about the size of your penis, morans [sic].

Of Mama Grizzlies & Messages

2011-01-13T12:12:00.000-06:00

A bear and a rabbit are relieving themselves near each other in the woods. The bear turns to the rabbit and politely asks, "Do you have a problem with shit sticking to your fur?" The rabbit, thinking it an odd question, warily replies, "No." The bear says, "Well, that's good," grabs the rabbit, thoroughly wipes it's own ass, then tosses the rabbit aside as it walks deeper into the woods.

Palin (along with all of f*x (ItAin't)News, beck, et al) is a scatological mama grizzly and your everyday, run-of-the-mill republican is her rabbit.

/scene

Scenes from Geo. W. Bush's "Book" Tour, Pt. 1

2010-11-17T01:09:00.002-06:00

A Tea-Bagger is Borned [Best read aloud]

"Heh heh...jist read th' book. Aifter Ah read uncle dickie's notes fer his VP/S&M memoir, Ah 'membered how Ah bawl-gagged Say-Damn H00-sain inta almost tellin' me where them ol' DubyaMDs were...um, was...were...at. Mommy wouldn't let me use her-n-pappy's favorite, so Ah had'tuh improverize with an ol' football an' some ~~duck~~ duct tape. But that ol' moose-lim wuz a tough nut ta crack, which is exactly whut Ah tol' 'im: 'Say-Damn, you are one tough nut tah crack!' That gave me an idear.... So Ah took off m'chaps, then m'Wranglers loose fit jeans, then put m'chaps BACK on...aind assumed th' position tuh contin-yuh the inter'gations....

"Heh heh.... Ah jist 'membered a funny detail: SH didn't have no gag reflex, which prob'ly explains why he never tol' me where them ol' DubyaMDs were...um, was...were...at. Heh heh...coulda used him at summa mah frat parties cuz th' goats couldn't handle...*

Never mahnd that shit now...mommy's a-callin'. Prob'ly wants ta show me another jar in her prahvate collection...."

And Now, an Excerpt From the Holy Scriptures*

2010-11-06T12:45:00.009-05:00

A passage from the words of Christ, as recorded in chapter 19, Gospel of Matthew*, verses 16-21.

19. And, behold, one came and said unto him, Good Master, what good thing shall I do, that I may have eternal life?

And He said unto him, Why callest thou me good? there is none good but one, that is, God: but if thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments.

20. He saith unto him, Which? Jesus said:

Thou shalt do no murder, unless it take the guise of an illegal war based on falsities. (Verily, get thee to force others to do thy oppressive business.);

Thou shalt not commit adultery more than two score times;

Thou shalt not steal, unless it be from stockholders and taxpayers;

Thou shalt not bear false witness, unless it aids thy lust for power;

Honor thy father and thy mother, unless they vote Democrat, and;

Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself…with the following exclusions: foreigners, the GAY, kikes, wops, micks, welfare queens, intellectuals, integrators, vegetarians, anybody “brown”, (hath I mentioned The GAY?) l-l-l-l-ib’rals, people who fail to buy American, pansies, those thou dost deem “less” than thee, socialists, those that drive a hybrid or compost, (I hath covered The GAY, yes?) and most of all: black presidents.

21. Lo, I say unto thee, it is easier for such as these to overcome the security system of a BMW or take yer jobs than be loved by the Father…even though He made them, too.

Go forth and doest thou likewise and thou shalt have an eternal place at the seat of power.

* Tea Bagger Edition, abridged and corrected.

A GOP Successory

2010-11-02T13:13:00.000-05:00

This is just a quick-n-dirty rough edit......

Of Tea-Baggers 'n' Protesters

2010-10-31T13:31:00.000-05:00

Let’s try a thought experiment:

A self-identified protester shows up to yet another event of a candidate or cause. Said protester is identified by supporters of the candidate/cause as this particular protester has been to several previous events, is known to security and volunteer staff, and is carrying a sign that clearly displays (as usual) clear distaste for the candidate. Said protester is also wearing an apparently intentionally crude costume intended to reinforce the protest. Five goons (not Joe "I Gots Me a Problem with the Truth" Miller's crack(head) "security team") who are neither cops nor security surround said protester and start muttering veiled threats like, "We are here to do crowd control we might have to take someone out." Said protester tries to flee the threat and an honor beating ensues.

You may have a spark of recognition: this was no thought experiment; this actually happened.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/bob-cesca/when-in-doubt-they-beat-u_b_775094.html

Now don't get me wrong: IF a protester charges a candidate‘s vehicle and takes any threatening action toward the candidate (which she didn't), I have no problem with a couple of cro-mags blocking her way or even restraining her, then letting security or cops nearby handle the situation.

But that's not what happened.

As she initially ran up to paul’s car, she was blocked by his security staff, who quickly and rightly determined she was no latter day Squeaky Fromme, just another protester. After that, she was trying to run away from the Viagra-dependent brain-stemmers who decided paul’s security and law enforcement failed in their duties, so they took matters into their own hands…or feet…. Once the protester was caught, she offered NO RESISTANCE WHATEVER. She was then, for some inexplicable reason, forced to the ground, whereupon two of these backwater ass-thumbers launch some pot shots at a non-combative, fully subdued protester. SHE gave up; THEY escalated.

Nice job, He-Men. Jesus will stamp your Man-card now. (But He’s gonna beat the Dumb outta you with his whip soon thereafter.)

Now if a tea-bagger charges a Dem's car and goes for an open window, one would be batting with the averages to assume said pants-shitter might be about to exercise their "2nd Amendment rights," so the danger is distinctly different. (When’s the last time progressive protesters showed up to a palin rally with assault rifles en masse ?) The collective Ignorami and its whores of complicit republican candidates and cheering pundits have repeated veiled threats of violence so often and with such impunity I think we must consider them armed and brainless: dangerous and stupid is a potentially lethal combination.

What I and anybody with a fully developed frontal lobe (so tea-baggers and all their defenders are right out) find objectionable in this particular incident is when the obviously subdued and non-resistant woman gets three cheap shots from two of the dipshits, one of which results in her head smacking into the curb. What I and anybody with a fully developed frontal lobe find objectionable about the tea-baggers in general is their fetishistic enslavement to the idea some ‘Mer’cans are “real” and others - those who disagree with them - are subject to the mewling minority’s violent heel.

Assholes like tea-baggers are the reason that I'm voting straight ticket for the 1st time in my life.

Fuck tea-baggers.

Fuck candidates who embrace, defend, or at least fail to rePudiate them repeatedly.

Tea-Bag America: What’s In It for Me

2010-10-13T00:10:00.003-05:00

I practically drool at the chance to rail against tea-baggers and their id-dominated, fact-challenged, hypocritical hordes. (Litmus test: Where were all these douche bags in 2002? 2003? 2004? 2005? Fini.) I relish the very thought of giving them a taste of their own medicine: casting aspersions on their “ideas” (and I use the term as loosely as the GOP has used them); insulting their costumes; mocking the legitimacy of their birthing/hatching/budding, and; farting in their general direction. (I realize such an approach forces me to lower myself to the level of mentally imbalanced Cro-mags, but sometimes one must indeed stoop in order to conquer…or just bash. I‘m fine with either.)

Glenn beck, Grand High Poobah of the Legion of Dumbfuckery (a.k.a. the "Tea Party"), recently called out the family in TN who lost their mobile home in a fire while a private subscription service fire department responded…only to stand idly by as the family home burned to the ground and their pets died inside. Why? The family was late paying the $75 annual fee for fire protection. (See also: Racketeering.) While the more sensible among us engaged in "compassion," Beck and loads of his minions held this out as a perfect example of what happens when you don’t play by the rules and fail to pay your fair share. (Lost on every smear of the stains left by the single-cell thought-like process shared by Beck’s Drecks is the county could’ve taxed the citizens OF that particular county an additional 0.13 per year based on property values and funded a professional, public fire department. C’est la chickenshits.) While that alone is bad enough, Beck and his loyal sidekick - whose name I neither know nor have the inclination to Google - started mocking these people, parading them across his national stage in order to do nothing but subject them to national embarrassment while they had absolutely no platform from which to defend themselves. (A sidebar: I’m fairly certain that makes Beck an “elitist.” …and a pansy….)

My natural first reaction was, of course, to:

*gag*cough*sputter*choke*asphyxiate*expire*be mourned by fam-n-friends: all so I could roll over in my OWN GODDAM GRAVE*self-resurrect*back to slingin' the vitriol*

...but not JUST at Beck, from whom I expect such drivel. The firefighters - wait, that’s not the right term…. Fire…mercenaries? Firemercs? OK, the people who showed up with all the equipment and presumably expertise to put out a mobile home fire said they were simply following “orders.” (Ibid, Nuremberg Trials; op cit, Iran-Contra.) As an ACTUAL public servant (as opposed to a service merchant), I understand the importance of following orders…but I also understand a public servant’s right and responsibility to DISOBEY orders when such orders are illegal, unethical, or flat-out immoral. At least ONE of those guys should’ve had the sack to turn just ONE hose toward what was early on a manageable fire and put it out, orders be damned.

But then…EPIPHANY! A society in which every citizen pays for every service on either a subscription or pay-as-you-go basis (a Tea-Bagger paradise) is PERFECT for a guy like ME!

Disband the filthy s-s-s-s-s-socialist union!

Get rid of the “paycheck” system that rewards employees equally, regardless of productivity!

Pay me based SOLELY on individual, measurable performance. Public service on a commission basis…

Each enforcement action garners a 20% commission. (Why 20%? It’s what the market will bear, of course.) A seat belt ticket puts $12 in my pocket. Speeding? $24. Operation of an Uninsured MV? Oh, that’s damn near college tuition. (I would also get 20% commission on any court fees, since my find started the whole process.) Each offense would be necessarily monetized in such a way, but ya get the basic concept.

Here’s an easily achieved scenario: Writing three speeding tickets an hour for seven hours (allowing one hour to make the appropriate computer entries) means I would make $504 per shift. Figure at least a warrant arrest a week earns the finder 20% of the most common bond amount ($1000), plus a commission for each felony arrest based on a Table of Severity and voila! Pay ME as I go gets me to about $15,000 a month…$225,000 per year. (I couldn’t be docked simply because someone beat a ticket, criminal charge, or got a warrant quashed, either: such things fall under the purview of the State’s Attorney, so go after HIS check. It would be my job to CATCH, not clean.) Combine that with a Tea-Bagger's philosophy on taxation and I could retire comfortably* in just a few years.

In other words: Bring.It.ON!

Oh, I DO relish a Tea-Bag America! One in which we ALL finally embrace Social Darwinism! Back to the L-a-a-a-a-a-a-w of the West! Survival of the Fittest! We could finally get rid of those stupid borders, too. After all…as ‘Mer’kins, we can surely beat back a wave of people willing to work longer, harder and for less pay because…well, cuz we’re ‘MER’KINS, dammit!

As the Tea-Baggers (those REAL Merkins**) would put it: “THEY” ain’t “US,” morans!

* But it won't be here...Too many batshit crazy 'baggers....
** Please don’t google that term….

The Pledge to America, abrigded and corrected, Pt. 1

2010-09-23T23:47:00.004-05:00

America IS more than a country.

America is an idea – an idea that free people can govern themselves (as long as we can manipulate their unrealistic fears), that government’s powers are derived from the consent of the governed (unless we didn't win), that each of us is endowed by their Creator with the unalienable rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness (unless your definition of happiness violates our delicate sensibilities). America is the belief that any man (preferably white and/or rich) ~~or woman~~ can – given economic, political, and religious liberty – advance themselves, their families, and the common good of the rich and corporate.

America is an inspiration to those who yearn to be free and have the ability and the dignity to determine their own destiny...unless they're foreigners. Fuck them, no matter what that Frenchie slut in NY harbor says.

Whenever the agenda of government becomes destructive of these ends, WE'LL BE THERE!

These first principles were proclaimed in the Declaration of Independence, enshrined in the Constitution, and have endured through hard sacrifice and commitment by generations of Americans....and slavery...and genocide...and an economic system that insulates the wealthy and connected from real competition.

In a self-governing society, the only bulwark against the power of the state is the consent of the governed, except when we don't like the results of the legal and verified elections. Then, we pledge to whine and bellow until we get our way. Regarding the policies of the current legally elected government, the governed do not consent....except that they overwhelmingly did just a couple of years ago. Thank the Creator for our abilities with monkey wrenches real and metaphorical!

An unchecked executive, a compliant legislature, and an overreaching judiciary have combined to thwart the will of the people and overturn their votes and their values, striking down longstanding laws and institutions and scorning the deepest beliefs of the American people. So we ask that you once again give US the unchecked executive, compliant legislature, and overreaching judiciary. We pledge it'll work THIS time!

An arrogant and out-of-touch government of self-appointed elites makes decisions, issues mandates, and enacts laws without accepting or requesting the input of the many...which is totally cool as long as it's US, of course....

Rising joblessness, crushing debt, and a polarizing political environment are fraying the bonds among our people and blurring our sense of national purpose, which boogey-men we have flogged and flogged and flogged until a bunch of you discovered the implied permission to act like the intellectual children you are.

Like free peoples of the past, our citizens refuse to accommodate a government that believes it can replace the will of the people with its own. The American people are speaking out, demanding that we realign our country’s compass with its founding principles and apply those principles to solve our common problems for the upper 2% good.

The need for urgent action to repair our economy and reclaim our government for the people cannot be overstated. BUT we're doing it anyway. We're also lying about it, just to be safe. Seriously, y'all will swallow anything...almost.

With this document, we pledge to dedicate ourselves to the task of reconnecting our highest aspirations to the permanent truths of our founding by keeping faith with the values our nation was founded on, the principles we stand for, and the priorities of our people. This is our Pledge to America, written in the freshest of flung poo.

We pledge to honor the Constitution as constructed by its framers and honor the original intent of those precepts that have been consistently ignored – so start saving to get some slaves so you can have durty s-s-s-s-s-ex with them and tell no.one. Also, if you've been eying your neighbor's land but he hasn't been gracious enough to simply leave it to you, it will again be legal (and justified under God's sweet, sweet will) to simply kill them and take it...after raping the women, of course.

We pledge to advance policies that promote greater liberty, wider opportunity, a robust defense, and national economic prosperity...as long as you can afford the membership.

We pledge to honor families, traditional marriage, life, and the private and faith-based organizations (well, the ones we AGREE with, anyway) that form the core of our American values because we are VERY concerned with what you do with YOUR crotch. We're watching, you pervies...delicious, succulent pervies....

We pledge to make government more transparent in its actions, careful in its stewardship, and honest in its dealings. To promote this approach, we will tailor some new clothes for the once and future Emperor! That's why many of our newer candidates have lots of these "tits" you so like: TRANSPARENCY NOW!!!!!

We pledge to uphold the purpose and promise of a better America, knowing that to whom much is given, much is kept in long-term tax shelters and speculative financial derivatives that can be sold off juuuust before the bottom drops out.

We make this pledge bearing true faith and allegiance to the people we represent*, and we invite fellow citizens** and patriots*** to join us in forming a new governing agenda for America: Exactly the SAME agenda we had before, but we pledge it WILL WORK THIS TIME!

*We do not represent 98% of you, so stop asking, you filthy, unwashed workers! LOOK! ATHEIST FAGS-N-DYKES GOT YER GUNS!!!!!! Don't forget to vote!

**Citizens must be prepared to show proof of status. White skin and/or lotsa liquid assets shall be prima facie evidence of legal status.

***No Dems allowed.

Revisiting Newt Gingrich, Flaccid American

2010-08-10T23:42:00.002-05:00

Newt Gingrich: American politician, author, chicken-hawk, faux-conservative, and a flaccid dick.

Newt started life as a bastard, born out-of-shotgun-wedlock to a 16 year-old harpy and a 19 year old gelding in 1943, plopping into the world June 17. He promptly slapped his mother for being a single mom, berated the doctor for being a “fer’ner,” and told his gelding father “Get a job, deadbeat!” Thus, the transformation from mere bastard to dick began in earnest.

The first hard evidence to the world-at-large of Newt’s burgeoning
dickish nature is the fact he survived Grammar School with a name like “Newt” paired with a surname like “Gingrich.” (It doesn’t help that “Newt” is short for “Newton,“ either.) Millard Fillmore Junior High records show other such foul-named taunt-targets as Saxby, Nigel, and George failed to make it past Day 3 on the playground without chronic noogies, but Newt inexplicably thrived. (Attempts to locate “Knuckles” McPhee--MFJH’s most notorious and prolific bully--to explain this phenomenon have been unsuccessful. However, according to a scrawled, cryptic message found on the recently unearthed 7th grade boys’ bathroom, “Knuckles” may have met an untimely end by swirley.) His high school career was unremarkable save two awards: Best Turkey-Neck, and; voted Most Likely to Eat His Own Young. Newt received no grades, only the marks, “Get this MFer outta my class!”

During his undergraduate years studying the effect of Lizard-Think on Economics and Fer’ner Affairs, Newt discovered “girls,“ though his experimental endeavors on that subject have been lost to Time as witnesses failed to survive or are unwilling to come forward. His graduate thesis--Worrying More About What People Do In the Privacy of Their Own Bedrooms (Cuz I Ain’t Getting’ Any)--won rave reviews among remaining proto-humans, aka Young Republicans.

Newt is a loud, staunch voice for “Family Values,” valuing families so much, he’s created three of his own along the way. An early family, created with Jackie Battley, gave opportunity to show his early dedication to empathy by divorcing her while she was battling cancer. However, rather than elevating him to Colossal Prick status as might be expected by such a bold move, he became a mere Dick, Common Flaccid by reportedly trying to get her to sign a handwritten settlement while she was in the hospital recovering from related surgery. As might be expected from one of such a name, Newt is all-class, babe.

A short time after divorcing Battley, Newt corralled another lobotomized filly in 1981, Wyf #2. In a fantastic display of a man’s reach exceeding his grasp, he actually groomed Wyf #3 while married to Wyf #2, via extramarital affair. When asked what first drew her to Newt the Flaccid, Wyf the 3rd mumbled something unintelligible through a Quaalude-induced fog. She then slobbered a bit. Newt’s personal mantra seems to be, “Third Time’s a Charm (especially with pharmaceuticals and vodka.)”

Newt’s political career and accomplishments can rest on their respective sphincters, needing no further glorification here. To sum up: he single-handedly saved America during the Clinton years. “The Contract On America” was a watershed moment.

Newt’s personal interests include hardcore Bulgarian necrophilia porn, hypocrisy as an art form, genital self-mutilation, and discovering the tensile strength threshold of his lower abdominal wall. It’s widely rumored he was the original inspiration for the South Park character of Mr. Garrison, just so “Suck my balls, Mr. Garrison” could be uttered.

Newt the Flaccid is scheduled to go supernova in 3... 2... Duck.

A Ditty for a (Not So) Pretty (Not So) Little Liar

2010-07-20T12:19:00.003-05:00

There once was an ass from Wasilla
Whose lips gave a rise to some fellas.
She played on some fears,
Then said with a sneer:
"My boobs are my brains, so they're jealous."

Go ahead...refudiate THAT.

Look at Your Tea-Bagger.....

2010-05-01T14:17:00.002-05:00

Hello, ladies.
Look at your tea-bagger.
Now look at me.
Now back at your tea-bagger-
Now BACK to me.
Sadly, they aren’t me.
But if they stopped using words incorrectly
And switched to Intelligent Argument
They could sound like they’re me.

Look down.
Back up!
Where are you…?
You're in a conversation
With a man your tea-bagger could sound like

What’s in your hand?
Back at me…
I have it!
It’s an oyster with two tickets to that thing.you.love……
Look again.
The tickets are NOW diamonds
Anything is possible when you have reasonable debate based on fact,
Not cowardice.

I’m on a horse.

That Cra-Zay Ike!

2010-04-06T13:03:00.003-05:00

A friend sent a quote to me recently, reminding me why the current crop of conservatives (PSST: They aren't really conservatives--they just play them on TV. Totally.Welcome!) leave me in a swearing, lathered heap every time they open their gaping hate-holes.

"Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed.

This world in arms is not spending money alone.

It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children.

The cost of one modern heavy bomber is this: a modern brick school in more than 30 cities.

It is two electric power plants, each serving a town of 60,000 population.

It is two fine, fully equipped hospitals.

It is some 50 miles of concrete highway.

We pay for a single fighter with a half million bushels of wheat.We pay for a single destroyer with new homes that could have housed more than 8,000 people.

This, I repeat, is the best way of life to be found on the road the world has been taking.This is not a way of life at all, in any true sense. Under the cloud of threatening war, it is humanity hanging from a cross of iron."

--> Crazy socialist and renowned hippie, Dwight D. Eisenhower.

(Psst to the asshats: he was a Republican. ;))

Someone forward this to Sarah "Got Putin?" p*lin and her frothing minions ASAP. Ike was a pragmatic conservative and had the mentality of a grown-up.

Avoiding Socialism: A Checklist

2010-03-24T17:55:00.017-05:00

BROTHERS!!!! (For we are all brothers, regardless of how some godless, gub’mint approved doctor or hippy midwife or fer’ner cabbie interpreted our naughty bits.)

BROTHERS!!!! It has recently come to our collective attention that s-s-s-SOCIALISM--that pre-cursor to Communism, Fascism, and Malapropism--has finally taken serious root in the Homeland.

***I PLEDGE ALLEGIANCE TO THE FLAG OF THE UNITE--***

Not now, Brothers! Time-n-place; time-n-place……

BROTHERS!!!! This e-Vil health care insurance reform stuff bein’ rammed down our collective throats is CLEARLY meant as a way for Obama (***IS DEH DEBIL***) to take yet one more step toward Authoritarianism! WE MUST BEAT IT BACK!

***(Much Ha-rumphing....)***

…however…

Some smart-ass, pinko/fasco/commie/hippy l-l-l-l-L-IB’RAL has recently pointed out the hypocrisy of our ways by elucidat….

Elucidati….

Ok…

Um…

Enumerat-ah, shit.

OK, look-see: this smart-ass listed a whole lotta thangs that are actually even MORE s-s-s-SOCIALIST than regulating the amazingly generous and shining examples of Capitalism that constitute our Private Health Care Insurance System, God grant them peace-n-profit.

***(Much genuflecting)***

So, the call has done rang out, cuz this guy was RIGHT. We MUST cleanse ourselves of this demon called "s-s-s-Socialism" in the name of all that is holy! (For an exhaustive list of “All Things Holy,” please contact Sarah Palin.) So, here’s a partial list of how we can go about cleansing our national soul the way Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, and John Adams woulda wanted.*

*[Author‘s. Note: For your own safety, please do not research any of those names, especially by reading Mark Brown's thoughts at www.jurist.law.pitt.edu.]

Pull your kids outta public schools. (Extra credit given to those brothers who burn said schools to the sacred, sacred soil as "ground zero" infection sites.)
Stop using publicly funded roads (esp. interstates).
Demonstrate against the military, since all they do is suck the public teat.
Don't call police.
If shot with your own gun(s) during a burglary, make sure the doctor has no medical license.
Stop watching TV and cable and listening to radio. “Public airways,” indeed!
Don't eat anything inspected by the FSIS. (Don’t forget to use unlicensed medical people for trichinosis-n-such.)
Carry your baptismal certificate. Present that next time someone asks you for your insurance provider.
Don't go to a national park.
Pull your money out of banks w/FDIC backing.
Steal gramma’s Social Security and Medicare, then donate those funds to SarahPAC.
Stop recognizin’ “sunrise” and “sunset.” Cuz everybody knows the world has ended!

BROTHERS!!!! Please add suggestions as you think of them!

***(Standing, collective ovation)***

Oh...one last thing...and this is a little... um... delicate, so “discretion” is the word: we need volunteers for an exploratory committee. It seems j-j-j-Jesus was a dirty liberal and a s-s-s-Socialist, too, what with his redistribution of loaves & fish, slingin’ free booze at weddings, healin’ the sick and dead FOR FREE, even OUT.OF.NETWORK!!!! He prolly din’ even have a green card, fer Christ’s sake!

Therefore, we need a new Messiah. (But blasphemy will be good ta go.) Do I have any nominations from the collecti--I mean, floor?

Perhaps we start with Glenn Beck. I like the wiggle o‘ his waddle.

The Latest Assault

2010-03-17T21:42:00.004-05:00

Yeah…so my census form arrived in the mail yesterday. I’ve been steeped in the panicky swill of Michelle b*chmann and Glenn b*ck, lately (their mendacity is almost impossible to escape, given the breathless nature of panic-journalism), so the arrival of Das Presidente’s latest mind control apperatti (yeah, I made up that word) caused consternation, hiccups, as well as swelling of the colon.

Consider the power of a president--any president--knowing *gasp* how many people live in MY house! How DARE he!?! It’s time to arm ourselves, fellow Homelanders! This Emperor-in-Waiting must be stopped at all costs! (Except anything resembling actual ACTION, that is….)

But then again…the true patriots tell us President Obama is: Omniscient; Omnipresent; Omnipowerful; Omninational, and; Omni-Curious…. Defiance is sure to have consequences!

So for the safety of all Americans (or, as some prefer, “’Mer’kins”) and all the ships at sea: I just finished the form indicating I’m an “American,” though there could be suspicions about YOU, apparently. (See "'Beck, Glenn.').... Copy-n-paste this as your status and twitter and RS feed (then follow the instructions below) or Nancy Pilosi will eat yer face after forcibly reproducing with you. (Word of warning: everyone knows lib-Dems from Cali reproduce by… um… “being the Man,” so at speak, so lube is muy importante’. It‘s gub‘mint lube, so you know it can‘t be trusted. Maybe your colon can filibuster…?)

Make sure to implant the chip that comes with the census form. (Luckily, said package conveniently (and socialistically) includes the gub’mint-provided syringe along with digital copies of Mein Kampf and Marx' entire bibliography as edited by Das Presidente with instructions on how to import them to iTunes accompanied by a warning to listen on "repeat" until our respective AND collective medula oblongati (did it again!) oozes out of nasal passages and we can all rhythmically chant same. (CAUTION: Side effects may include getting a gig as a recurring caricature on f*x “news.”).

For those perhaps less-than-attuned:

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! Reading the above is likely to result in “Sarcasm” and “Satire” infiltrating yer brain! Re-read with caution!

C’mON, man! I’m a liberal agnostic vegetarian living in So. IL where we apparently have both kinds of political thought--Tea & Baggin--so I’m bound to have a big mouth and sharp elbows!

Jebus-copulating-Chee-rist, people! It’s one thing to disagree; it’s quite another to see the Doom of the Republic every time a liberal (or, as we prefer to be called, a “dirty, stinkin’ commie-bastard/bitch lib’ral”) tries to do something. The once-a-decade census has been happening with great regularity since 1790. In fact, the census is a constitutional requirement! So for Michelle “1000-Yard-Stare” b*chmann (and others) to suggest we not participate because of some unsubstantiated fear of President Obama is to go AGAINST the very document to which she claims such allegiance!

Wait a minute… The census is required by...the Constitution...?

That must mean...

Oh, nozerz!

Even the founding fathers have been retroactively hypnotized by Buh-RACK Who-SAIN O-BAM!a!!!!!

That being the case…if you'll excuse me…I need to stretch in preparation for my nightly genuflections, then practice the M00slim version of Kum Bay Ah so I may hail my Socialist/Marxist/Commie-Nazi overlords in such a patriotic manner they never suspect I might come from "Real America."

ALL HAIL!

(Dumbfuckery is outta control. I can only swing the cudgel so many hours a day!)

E-Mail Scammers; A Love Story

2010-03-08T07:40:00.004-06:00

I was recently contacted by someone claiming to be "Sgt. Chad Cook," who needed my assistance to claim his portion of $28M, which he obtained after discovering barrels of money buried in Sadam Hussein's palaces. Obviously, such a thing is highly illegal, so he contacted me to act as a go-between.

A sample of the e-mail:

I want you to tell me how much you will take from this money for the assistance you will give to me. One passionate appeal i will make to you is not to discuss this matter with anybody, should you have reasons to reject this offer, please and please destroy this message as any leakage of this information will be too bad for us soldier's here in Iraq. I do not know how long we will remain here, and i have been shot, wounded and survived two suicide bomb attacks by the special grace of god, i honestly want this matter to be resolved immediately, please contact me as soon as possible with my e-mail address which is my only way of communication.

God bless you and your family.

Sgt. Chad Cook

Not only am I offended that the scammer ripped off "Three Kings," thinking people wouldn't recognize that basic plot, I'm also shocked these dumbasses don't realize the very first giveaway it's a scam is their language.

So...

I have offered to *aherm* "help."

My reply:

Since absolutely NO American would express themselves in the manner you do, I would like to offer my writing services to you and your organization. It is clear from your correspondence that you are not a native English speaker. I understand you and your colleagues are merely trying to earn an honest living by getting gullible people to give up the information and/or money you request and am indeed sympathetic to your cause; Unfortunately for you, such stilted writing as the correspondence below undoubtedly hinders your efforts and limits your organization's profitability.

However, I am willing to help.

For the low, low price of sucking my balls, Mr. Garrison, I am willing to edit all of your future attempts to make sure it at least sounds like an American might have written them. In return for sucking my balls per each piece edited, I can assure you your recipients will utterly believe that all your future correspondence comes from an American. While many will still see through your ruse (most of us in the US have seen Three Kings and remember it, since we are all madly in love with George Clooney), I can absolutely guarantee you a far higher response rate than you enjoy now.

As to my qualifications: in addition to being born in a predominantly English speaking country, I have a degree in English as well as composition and am, therefore, highly trained and skilled. Additionally, for the last 11 years, I have earned a good living as a professional writer, editor, and proofreader. All you need to do is send me the rough draft of any correspondence you would like to use and within one week (five business days), I will return to you or your designee one perfectly Americanized solicitation. You may use each and every edited piece as many times as you like, in perpetuity.

Even though I am absolutely willing to offer my services, I need to know you have the means to pay for my skills. As such, I must insist on proof of your ball-sucking expertise. (I've had bad experiences in the past with ball-suckers from your country who assured me their skills at said task were highly polished, only to discover they were amateurs, at best.) Where did you receive your ball-suck education? Did you earn a degree? If so, do you possess a Ball-Sucking Bachelor of Arts, Bachelor of Sciences, or did you earn an advanced degree?

Please send a video or photographic portfolio of yourself sucking the balls on a person of your choosing so I might better determine that your skills at sucking my balls, Mr. Garrison, are commensurate with my skills as a writer. Please forward references from three (3) recent ball-suckees

I look forward to your reply and sucking of my balls, Mr. Garrison.

Sincerely,

Me

I certainly hope the good Sgt. doesn't get into trouble since I'm-a post any and all replies here. I've actually had a couple of scammers respond in the past, but have yet to get any photos. Let's see how far down the rabbit hole this fool is willing to follow me, eh?

Appropriate Metaphore....

2010-02-24T16:43:00.001-06:00

Personalize funny videos and birthday eCards at JibJab!

I Must Share!

2010-02-22T16:05:00.002-06:00

Dog Malfunction

Over The Handlebars | MySpace Video

Philosophy Time!

2010-01-30T10:10:00.003-06:00

A philosophy professor stood next to a table in front of the classroom. The table displayed a large empty jar and several boxes neatly arranged. When the class began, she picked up the empty jar and filled it to the top with rocks from the first box. She then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed it was. The professor then picked up the next box and poured small pebbles into the jar. She shook the jar lightly. The pebbles, of course, rolled into the open areas between the rocks. She then asked the students again if the jar was full. They again agreed it was.

The professor picked the last box and poured sand into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. Now, said the professor, I want you to recognize that this is your life. The rocks are the important things - your family, your partner, your health, your children - things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car. The sand is everything else. The small stuff. If you put the sand into the jar first, there is no room for the pebbles or the rocks. The same goes for your life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical check-ups. Take your partner out dancing. There will always be time to go to work, clean the house, give a dinner party and fix the disposal. Take care of the rocks first - the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.

But then... A student approached the table, took the jar which the other students and the professor agreed was full--and proceeded to pour in a bottle of beer. Of course the beer filled the remaining spaces within the jar making the jar truly full.

The moral of this tale is that no matter how full your life is, there is always room for BEER.

I wish I could take credit for this OR that I could find the original source so I could give proper credit. Suffice to say: 'tis BRILLIG!!!!

Shooting a Pair of Deer

2010-01-18T21:42:00.008-06:00

You were thinking something else, eh? This is to balance out some of the Dead Bambi/HeapBigHunter pics we tend to see published around these here parts, from time to time. This is how I shoot deer....

I was just driving along when I spotted a group of five or six deer, grazing near an overgrown pond on the outskirts of town. I happened to have my camera with me (I calls 'er "Betty," but you can call 'er... "Betty.")and the 70-300mm lens attached, so I pulled over as quietly and quickly as possible, though at least two of them kept eyes on me. I didn't have time to mess around with settings, so I just left the camera on Program, popped the lens out to its furthest reach, and started firing away.

This is easily the best shot of the group, as the deer kept some distance between themselves (not to mention, away from me) and moved around quite a bit. These two had their heads down grazing, quite still and relaxed, so I did an experiment and discovered: the "kissy noise" works on deer! As soon as I got this pic, these two separated.

I squeezed off maybe 7 pics before they all bolted toward then melted into the tree line. Little did they know that this is one well-armed redneck around whom they are infinitely safe.

Ass On the Ground, Or: I Have Impr-r-r-o-o-o-ved It

2010-01-18T21:37:00.003-06:00

The possibilities for writing parodies based on "Pants On the Ground" aren't limitless...but damned if we can't get close! Opening salvo....

Beer in the glass
Beer in the glass
Drinkin’ like a fool with your beer in the glass

With the pint to your mouth
Legs turned sideways
Ass hit the ground
Call yourself a cool cat
Lookin’ like a fool
Walkin’ downtown then your ass’s on the ground

Get it up, hey!
Get your beer in the glass
Lookin’ like a fool
Walkin’ talkin’ with no beer in the glass.

Get it up, hey!
Get that beer on the glass
Lookin’ like a fool with no beer in the glass.

Totally.Welcome!

New & Improved Facebook Meme

2010-01-15T12:38:00.004-06:00

This little meme has made several rounds ‘round the Intertubes and I thought it needed…refreshing. ENJOY!

Pick the month you were born:
January-------I kicked
February------I pimp-slapped
March----------I karate chopped
April------------I dropped a 16-ton weight on
May------------I choke slammed
June-----------I did the deed with
July------------I did the significant other of
August--------I mopped a dirty, sticky floor with
September----I snogged
October-------I incessantly berated
November-----I spit on
December-----I ran over

Pick the day (number) you were born on:
1-------mich*el steele
2-------r*d blagojevich
3-------the entire f*x “news” mo(u)rning show cast
4-------Speidi
5-------Simon Cowell
6-------Deh Debil
7-------h*rry p*tter
8-------glenn b*ck
9-------r*sh limb*agh
10-------d*ck ebersol
11-------jay leno
12-------pat robertson
13-------t*by keith
14-------the entire “cast” of “jerkey shore”
15-------m*rk mcgwire
16-------d*ck cheney
17-------barry b*nds
18-------every tea-bagger
19------- bill *’reilly
20-------jeff z*cker
21-------people using “socialism” wrong
22-------(Up)chuck n*rris
23-------every “character” in “Twilight”
24-------ann c*ulter
25-------l*z cheney
26-------miley cyr*s
27-------sarah p*lin
28-------steve j*bs
29-------karl r*ve
30-------the guy who sings “Pants on the Ground”
31-------the 2 llamas with hats

Pick the last number of the year in which you were born:
1--------- in my front yard
2 --------- in the town square
3 --------- in the Lincoln bedroom
4 --------- in your FACE!
5 --------- on camera
6 --------- all over youtube
7 --------- in front of the gathering hordes
8---------- …that would hafta be in the butt, Bob…
9 -------- in the lake…BIG lake!
0 -------- in public

Pick the main color of shirt you are wearing:
White---------because of the rottenness and e-Vil in me.
Black---------because I take Veni, vidi, vici literally.
Pink-----------because L‘il Wayne did it too!.
Red-----------because the meds ran out.
Blue-----------because I’ve been touched by His Noodly Appendage.
Green---------with hee-larious! results....
Purple---------because I'm a professional and amateur hour was OVAH!!!
Gray----------because the hooker with a penis told me to and he/she's my leader.
Yellow---------because I forgot what 8 is for and this helped me remember.
Orange--------because it desperately needed doing.
Brown---------because I can‘t be stopped, helped, nor contained.
Other----------because I was offered a reality show.
None----------because my Netflix account was suspended and I‘m bored….

Then, combine the results into a sentence.

Mine would then be:

I dropped a 16-ton weight on pat Robertson…that would hafta be in the butt, Bob…because I was offered a reality show.

What to Call This Sort of Photography....

2009-12-10T22:20:00.002-06:00

I took this in a basically abandoned oil field equipment site. The manufacturer is, apparently, "Happy Medart," which I've cropped to my own purposes. I like this kinda thing, but can't think what to call it.... Industrial Decay? Semi-Urban Industro-Trek? Shit I Like So Who Gives a Flying Rodent's Exposed Hinder Parts What We Calls It?

More Anon....

The Swearing Handyman: Hot Water Heater Edition.

2009-11-23T18:28:00.001-06:00

The following is another in the Putziler Prize winning series, The Swearing Handyman. Today's edition outlines tips, tricks and steps to replace a hot water heater that has suddenly--and gushily--decided to give up the ghost...and the 40 gallons of water that had been so recently and neatly stored. Anyway, on to the steps.

1. Come home late, ready to go to bed and discover water running all over.

2. Freak in as dignified a manner as possible. I suggest streaking the neighborhood while swearing in tongues, but go with what feels natural. This is key. But avoid firearms...also: key.

3. Remember: the little knob that cuts water flow. It looks like...a little knob.
3a. You may not recall this until you've gone through your personal #2 process.
3b. Also...the gas...ya might wanna turn THAT knobby, too.

4. Choke back the overwhelming paralysis that creeps up on you when you realize a plumber is about to put at least one of his kids through a private community college on your dime.

5. Call reinforcements--I call mine, "Dad." There is no shame in this step; cold showers for the next week while burning through 3 returned and ineffective heaters because you were too friggin proud to call someone who's been there/done that...it's called st00pid.
5a. Avoid st00pid.

6. Do the requisite research. (It ain't called "The Google" for nuthin.) In other words, read the side of the old one and call around for $$ on new ones.

7. Repeat step 2. Perhaps a coupla times. Then just buy the damn thing, unless you like stinking.

8. Have it ready and waiting when reinforcements show up.

9. Watch intently. You may face this again, and it might be nice if you could contribute.

10. Lift, connect, switch stuff back on, light.

11. Enjoy!

OOOOH! Heap, Big Hunter, You’s a MAY-UHN....

2009-11-20T14:03:00.002-06:00

I don’t really mind deer hunting all that much. In fact, if it came down to a question of survival between me and Bambi…sorry ‘bout yer spot in the food chain, l’il buddy, but I have opposable thumbs and good aim. I appreciate the skill necessary. I even understand deer overpopulation is a huge problem for people and deer alike, so responsible, ethical hunting is necessary and good. ….

But…

I have had it up to my over-developed Id with all the bragging, status updates, front page newspaper pics, etc. about the big buck that just got itself bagged. Ever had the uncomfortable “Where meat comes from” discussion with a 6 year-old when they realize beef = cow? Now imagine a similar convo when your soft-hearted kiddo (and almost all of them are) sees Bambi’s mommy field dressed in the back of a blood-drenched, seeping pickup, tongue awkwardly drifting out of the mouth as you wait behind it for a McD’s Happy Meal…or when a smiley bohunk poses next to Dancer on the front page of your local daily.

For fuck’s sake, here’s what your *aherm* “accomplishment” as heap-big hunter tells me about you: you’ve spent hundreds - if not thousands - of dollars on equipment, then waited hours and hours hidden way up a tree (usually) in freezing weather at 5am (or earlier) to wait for something that has a brain the size of a child’s fist to just wander on by….

Bra-fucking-VO!

Meanwhile, I can go to the store and buy food. Ya won’t see me with veggie burgers tied to my hood or a gallon of milk mounted and displayed on my wall….

TaG&WaM Presents: A Very Bad Haiku....

2009-11-19T10:37:00.000-06:00

Mmmmm… Girl Scout cookies--
Variety! Nutrition!
Daily breakfast *munch*

BLARGLERS! See Debils Everywhere....

2009-11-13T11:24:00.005-06:00

I recently posted a link elsewhere to a site that supports Net Neutrality. [An excellent definition of and summation on net neutrality can be found HERE. The site itself: HERE.] What followed very quickly was something that could be loosely defined as a “discussion” about this particular issue with someone who disagreed ostensibly because…Net Neutrality would lead to freedom of speech being stripped from us all.

*blink*blink*

It took a mere two posts to get there...making it illegal for ISP providers to restrict access to information would lead to making the First Amendment moot. This is not a stupid person; she’s not “bad." (However…she does likes herself some WrongWing NutJob radio and TV, apparently.) She kept arguing that OF COURSE! net neutrality was going to lead to an oppressive state with Obama as its Emporer--a senseless, panicky position I found as incomprehensible as the *aherm* “reasoning“ behind/on top of it--then, I suddenly saw what caused that knee-jerk reaction: the link’s summary started, “President Obama has repeatedly called for Net Neutrality.”

The clouds parted; the music from angels-n-harps swelled to crescendo and it hit me like a ton of rendered fat: Rush, Beck(y), Ann “Is It Cold In Here, Or Is It Me” Coulter, Palin, Hannity and all the rabid tea-baggers, birthers, death panelers, and faux-patriots-- they’re all Helen Boucher.

You know Helen Boucher. No? Well, you certainly know Kathy Bates’ extraordinary turn as Helen Boucher…”Momma” in The Waterboy? Am I ringin’ yer bell yet? Y’know…the one who hated “foo’s-ball,” even though she had no real reason and it was something her son was good at and wanted to do. Remember? Her only explanations for being against ANYTHING revolved around brow-beating anyone who DARED like “foo’s-ball” and calling it and anyone who encouraged Bobby “Deh Debil,” along with anyone or anyTHING else she just didn’t like.

The Republican Party response and that of the (Not So) Great BLARGLING! Masses to anything the president wants and or/supports is:

...Obama is Deh Debil!

Limbaugh is their de facto leader (as much as Beck(y) pretends to the throne) and has become Momma Boucher. Rush in drag - full throated BLARGLE! - calls to his minions with the mating…I mean “rallying”…cry:

Obama is Deh DEBIL!

Close your eyes and go with me to ImaginationLand: Picture Rush in all his *COUGH* “Glory.” (Need a vomitous break? I can wait…mind the splatter. TYVM.) Mentally strip off the overpriced, overstuffed golf shirt (a waste of money AND fabric) and those laughable, if voluminous, khakis. (Mentally leave on the man-thong/garter/hooker boot set he wears underneath--y’know--fer decency.) Slap Momma Boucher’s wig on that pate, a cheap cotton dress from the 1970’s (with all the matching accessories, including hat-n-purse)on that ass…then just listen to what oozes outta his mouth; watch the ludicrous turkey-neck wobble as he tries to form coherent arguments with lips still begging to suckle just one more time at Reagan‘s overrated teat (nom-nom-NOM!): Rush in drag and at full-throated BLARGLE! Do you see it? How could you not!?! He IS Momma Boucher…. They’re ALL! become Momma Boucher…. We’re damned near surrounded by an (almost) army of BLARGLING! Mommas!

Don’t get me wrong, there is actually much to criticize about the president. (I’m especially afraid health care reform, if it passes in its current iteration, is going to be terrible, but mainly because the Corporate Spankerchiefs that make up the national Rethuglickin Party were allowed to have way too much influence. But not because it‘s “Socialism.” Seriously, if you‘re gonna use big words…know what the fuck they mean AND how they apply first. But that’s all for a later rant.) But just because the president wants something is no reason to be reactionary-ily agin’ it.

BLARGLE!

There is legitimate room for reasoned debate on nearly every issue. But…being reasonable with the preternaturally Unreasonable is to invite chaos, migraines, and unintentional proximity to tea-baggers and an Oxycontin infused splatter.

Looky here, BLARGLERS! And lemme hit ya in that pronounced brow ridge with the Cudgel of Knowledge, as Bobby might put it: Everything is deh debil to you, Momma! Well, I like educated leaders, and I like my internets neutral! And I'm gonna keep ‘em both because they make me feel good! And by the way, Momma, "Joe Liebermans" are ornery 'cause of their "Medula Oblongata"! And I like the internet, and it likes me back! And it showed me its boobies and I like them too!

THIS JUST IN!!!! DEMS LOSE VIRGINIA AND NEW JERSEY!!!!!

2009-11-04T09:05:00.004-06:00

Oh, NOZE! Ah...ah can’t believe it! Repukes WON!?! The Commonwealth of Virginia and...and...Jersey.... Jersey.... (Well, what makes New Jersey palatable...? I got nuttin'.) ...both lost...utterly lost....

Oh, mah…someone get mah good faintin’ couch…. (Not THAT one, ya stupid git; the one with the comfy pillows, crushed velvet upholstery, and extra large cup holders…don‘t forget the Mint Julep.…) That’s bettah! Back to panic….

Whatevah shall we DO without VA and NJ? Ah mean…besides have better hair, fewer guidos, and nearly all our teefs? Really!?! The thought of a traditional Red state like VA going (R) again after voting (D) once in the last 30 years…it’s a SHOCKAH! (...much like that unfortunate incident involving a confused frat boy and drunken Jersey girl...but Ah digress...again....) And N.J.! That’s a bad, BAD l’il Garden Gnome--I mean, State!

Look, those gubernatorial races were little more than panicky voters in a couple of distressed states (are there any other kind of either right now?) combined with a collective ADD expecting the Dems to fix in 8 months what it took Rethugs 30 years to ruin…and not getting it now, Now, NOW!!!!! However, it is a bit of a wake-up call…

And there’s only one appropriate response:

Boldness.

Bring the Audacity, not of Hope, but of Action.

Stop asking the Disloyal Opposition for input; stop seeking their permission; do what you were sent to do. Say clearly, “This is our vision; this is how we’re gonna do it.” Then…enact those initiatives without compromise. Go ahead and stake your future on your actions. There is little better than doing what needs done, despite vicious attacks, and being right. And if it turns out you're wrong...then you didn't deserve to be there in the first place.

Be bold; Be bold now.

(BTW, a big congrats to Bill Owens, who won the heavily Republican NY 23rd district, despite the fact Palin, Huckabee, and several other BLARGLERS! bullied the moderate republican out in favor of the far more right-wing (and in their twisted minds, more republican) Conservative Party candidate. That's a wake-up call to repubs, too: just keep on keepin' on...ride your reckless brand of faux-conservatism directly into irrelevance. That way, when your done, the adults (read: moderates on both sides) can go back to having the grown-up conversations again.)

Oh, mah delicate sensibilities!

A Manly Day For a Conquering Hero....

2009-11-01T10:09:00.002-06:00

In every man's life, there are moments where he must face fears-n-facts head on or be sucked into the oblivion. Today was such a day for me.

Those among us who are married know the significance of the "Honey-Do" list. We all know its import; we all know it's there, and; men especially know the only thing worse than not getting to something on said list is screwing something up ON that list and having to call a professional in to fix the mess created.

(An aside for the ladies: that last is EXACTLY why so many of us seemingly ignore the list! It's not that we don't WANT to fix the leaky faucet; it's that we secretly fear the seemingly simple fix isn't simple at all and we'll turn a $25 problem into a nice coupla billable hours to a guy/girl/goat whose derrière is coverage-challenged AND we'll look far more foolish than if we ignore the chore AND! we'll owe someone else a chunk o' change!)

Such was the dilemma facing your hero and mine - um, that'd be me. Do try to keep up....

The master suite's garden tub has been functional, but cantankerous of late. A few niggling issues that, taken individually, could be tolerated by even the most high-maintenance among the better halves out there, but taken together, caused Sweetie great consternation. So much so, she put "Fix tub" on the dreaded list.

Oh, I put it off for a while.... "Ya just hafta wait for the water to cool down." Or: "I'm waiting for a tool/part/time/miracle from on high...." Y'know--I stalled. But then.... the secret weapon......

Sweetie: Well, should I just call the plumber?

(Tip for the ladies: that approach always works! DAMMIT! The fear of someone else making an easy fix far outweighs the fear of Handyman Projects.)

After the all-important Procrastination Stage, I tore out the offending part (Aside: It took several trips under the house, maneuvering through a crawl space CLEARLY! Not designed for anyone taller than the minimum height requirement for a Kiddie Coaster at the county fair.) and took it to Ye Olde Hardware Store (I've learned to avoid those terribly ironic "How May I Help You?" vests at the Scourge of the Earth, a.k.a. Wal-Mart.) for much needed help. I then learned whoever MADE the inlet originally screwed it up, so I had to go back and get the REST of the valve…by getting under the house…in that crawlspace…. (Seriously, Gollum would love it; Dracula could set up his master bedroom; Dick Cheney could escape the Wrath of God there….)

But in a display of true Manly Fortitude and Swearing Frustration/Determination…I got the offending bauble and took it back. So, naturally, the guy finds the bad washer, replaces it In seconds, then utters the most fearsome words he could have possibly birthed:

“Just pop that back in and your set! It should just take a few minutes.”

Smug, competent, mechanically-inclined jackhole....

A wave of handy-man inadequacy overwhelmed me! What If I couldn't install this gizmo in minutes!?! What if I were the only man on Earth to bring about damnation because he couldn't fix a faucet!?! What if I got stuck in the crawlspace!?! WHAT IF DICK CHENEY HAD MOVED INTO THE CRAWLSPACE WHILE I WAS GONE!?!

Alas, I took the Emasculation Kit home. Then, I just dove in…literally (I did mention/bitch-mightily-about that maternal-forbear copulating crawlspace, right?). And…I conquered the beasty. After a hook-up, a couple of nuts re-tightened, one blast of cold water to the face, one more critical re-tightening…I had it. I was careful; I was deliberate; I was swearing juuuust a little!!!! But no tools were thrown… No l'il ol' ladies were offended....

And then…

HUZZAH!!!!!! Cold water flowed! The tub: RESTORED! My Queen is happy!

And that, my virtual friends, is how we all know this: Gary is all that is Man. Therefore, the Apocalypse begins in 3...

...2...

...1.........

iWon't

2009-10-30T13:21:00.000-05:00

The following is an LAPD PSA video for their iWatch program.

Ever read Orwell's 1984? Seen the movie? Danced nekkid in yer bay window, worried the neighbor's think you're doing it on purpose? Fackin' mind readers, ain't they?

The intent of iWatch is ostensibly good: have as many eyes-n-ears tuned in so terrorists (and wannabes) can‘t slip under the radar. If you look at the website, actual suspicious behaviors are listed (For example: “People drawing or measuring important buildings. Strangers asking questions about security or building security procedures.”) and had someone been doing that when Timothy McVeigh was in Oklahoma City…. But let’s face at least this fact: most people are too damned lazy to get beyond the PSA and look at what behaviors might be deemed “suspicious,” so the potential for abuse by even well-intentioned citizens is very real…especially in Post-9/11 America….

It's not the intent of iWatch--it’s the execution that causes me concern….

I’m not going to use Tilting to tell too many war stories or talk much about my job (that’s what memoirs are for, eh?), but I happen to be a cop; yet, the very thought of a program like this (much less its implementation) sends shivers up, down and across my spine such that all the Guinness I can hold won't calm because the cop on the street represents the first line of defense for civil liberties. (The fact some officers don’t live by that is another matter.) But when something like this pops up--something that explicitly asks you to watch your neighbors, look for “suspicious activity“ even though you haven‘t been trained--it gives the kooks, idiots, Chicken Littles, abusive exes, stalkers and even well-intentioned citizens legitimate cover to use the police to bother someone only because something “looks” odd.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been called out because a breathless caller wanted police to check out someone in the neighborhood, only to find out the suspicious behavior was something not at all suspicious, but based on the caller’s own panic (which I can accept) or bigotry (which I cannot). The worst example, in brief: I was sent to check out someone lingering in a neighborhood one afternoon the caller thought was “suspicious,“ a very common call. I checked the area and found no one, so I spoke to the caller to see what exactly said person was doing that seemed “suspicious.” She said (quoting, here), “He’s black.”

I blinked, and busted out the patented, “WTF?” look on my face. (For those unfamiliar: I arch my right eyebrow, squint my left eye (LEFT ONLY!), and lower my face slightly and fifteen degrees to the left. It’s like a slightly horrified/mildly amused free range Mona Lisa as performance art.)

I asked for clarification as to the actual behavior that made her “suspicious” and she said, “Well, he’s black and he was just standing there.” (An aside: this is where I called in I was going on break, took off the badge, grabbed the nearest red herring and slapped her about the face and shoulders ‘til I gots bored--at least that’s what I did in my mind.) I blinked at her…then, I turned and left. Surely, even a mouth-breathing Twinkie repository like that felt the “ARE YOU FUCKIN’ KIDDING ME!?!” was understood and needed not be spoken….

This country was founded on many principles, but the most basic (and the one from which all the rest flow) is this: each of us has the right to be left alone, unless we’re causing harm to the rights of others. That includes freedom from unsubstantiated suspicion, freedom from being subjected to increased scrutiny for what someone “thinks” another “might” be doing.

For all the panicked talk the Ridic(k)ulous Right throws out about “fer’ners” and “mooslims” and linking Islam directly and inexorably to terrorism, it’s not hard to see how brain-stemmers would translate iWatch to mean iWatch fer Fer’ners. (Didja miss the big-eyed cutie saying “I watch my America.”?) And in this country, we don’t hassle people for something they might do…well, ideally, we don’t do that…there was a time we didn‘t do that. Combine iWatch with panic, toss in a metric shit-ton of Beck-fueled paranoia and jingoism, a dash of bigotry, mix well….

I'm not saying turn a blind eye; I'm saying let's not sacrifice a little liberty for a little security.

I’LlHaveNoneOfIt……..

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a bay window to install….

The Journey From Angry Young Man to Old Man Yelling @ Clouds, or; What a Long Strange Trip It Continues to Be

2009-10-22T10:57:00.001-05:00

My journey started innocently enough: I plopped outta me mum and began ranting immediately, as I saw the doctor was inappropriately dressed for the occasion. More mewling followed, until I discovered "Language." After that, I waxed rhapsodic on many a topic, my soapbox-of-choice being a rather ungainly and (in hindsight) rickety set of unusually tall monkey bars. Then...the discovery of my true super power: Swearing Mightily!

I was quite the Angry Young Man for a long (some would say, "too long") time. But as the realization of Mortality has set in, I realize what a difficult, strange journey I am on, like the rest, begging the question: how does one transition from AYM to Old Man Yelling at Clouds?

It reminds me of the time I sailed across Lake Superior on a dinghy the size of a very large shoe (why anyone thought to name that lake "Superior" is beyond me, as there are several examples of better in Minnesota and Wisconsin, including a charming, though smaller, example just outside the Fon Du Lac area named for a once proud, though little remembered by history (due to the horribly racist policies of the Jackson administration) Native American tribe, though the name escapes me now as easily and completely as did the rascally cod I tried to wrangle on Day 3 of my excursion...but I digress and wax further rhapsodic....)

Anyway, t'was early on in my water-board adventure when I stumbled upon--rather, nearly sailed over--a merchant marine floating on what can only be described as a pile of rubbish loosely bound together by what appeared to be strands of his own hair. He was resplendent in his own way: well-worn boots that had clearly seen soil from Jakharta, Tripoli, Bangladesh, and more than a few Seattle night clubs at the height of grunge; pants and shirt from an ancient Sears collection; a long, scruffy beard that popped out in every direction from his jaw, complimented by an unusually thin, wispy mustache he must have gotten from his mother's side; no hair could be seen as it was apparently tucked away under a disconcertingly jaunty red wool cap. As I barely steered clear of this unusual sight, this man began swearing at me in the most profane, yet creative, of ways. (He was obviously the Shakespeare of sailor-talk.) Called into question were the following (though not necessarily in this order as his obscene observations looped back over themselves numerous times): my character; my mother's moral certitude and chastity; my father's ability to pick out healthy cattle; my sister's ability in the art of love; the size of my dinghy, and; the legitimacy of my birth.

As I sailed ever further away from this Tasmanian Devil of a Tourette's-afflicted example of the basest human creature ever to straddle a piece of flotsam, I was so stunned I could barely make reply. Finally, my days as Captain of the debate team at a famously prestigious university I need hardly mention (though, if you are interested, I shall send my CV for your perusal) came to bear and serve me well as I crafted the most succinct, cutting, and concise comeback in the history of history. I steeled myself again' the waves of the lake (again, not exactly "Superior," but they presented a challenge to me yet-to-be-developed sea legs, as this was early in my adventure, as I said), put one foot 'pon the edge of my craft, and replied:

"Go bloviate yerself!"

Judging by his stunned silence, I can only conclude it was the first exposure to bloviation as witty rejoinder of which he'd ever been the target.