Unsuccessful variations on rock, scissors, paper
man, hot dog, battery acid
cheetah, antelope, hewlett-packard
telephone, internet, gravy
amazon, bulldozer, michael jackson
god, nietzsche, jumper cables
cold, hot, ennui
beer, tequila, shame
heuristic, stochastic, wheel of fortune
Double Flee A
Tuesday
oops!
I forgot that yesterday was memorial day. Happy memorial day, when we celebrate the guys who fought so we could be free, like both my grandfathers, one of whom who liberated Europe from the Nazis.Which is different than this:
The last (chronologically first) in a series of fights at Riverside Military Academy.
Episode four, the time I got beat up by a stupid Christian.
When I was 13 I was sent to military school for the summer because I was not taking my studies seriously. As you will no doubt recall, I then did start taking my studies seriously so I wouldn't have to go back, which later backfired.
At the time, though, learning was at the top of the list, and I was 13. I was studying as everyone usually did between the hours of seven and nine PM, when I got engaged in a discussion with a suitemate about evolution. The original words are lost to my memory, but they were something along the lines of "You can't reconcile that the world was created in six days with the theory of evolution. Adam and eve, or evolution. Pick one." Come to think of it, because of what he then obviously did, this might have been the beginning of my not liking people my age during my teenage years. The gist of my statement was "You can't have both."
At Riverside during the two hour evening study period, there is a fifteen minute break for those who want to touch base with their friends, throw a frisbee, etc. Basically, you are allowed to leave your room. I left the room on this break and wished I hadn't.
No more than twenty minutes after my discussion with my dumbass suitemate, whose name I can't remember either, my words had been twisted, and I was whisked away to a room far away, in front of a group of about thirty people, with a guy named Maples in front of me.
The group pronouncement went thusly: "We heard what you've been saying about how the bible's bullshit, Shipley." My statement had been made for me. The question went up to Maples: "Whose side are you fighting on?" He answered in one word, which I will never forget. The rest of this is only approximate, but Maples, the dope, the idiot, said simply "Christianity."
Then he popped me in the face with a quick right and I just stood there bleeding. I was aghast at this development, and looking back, to take a hit was a far more Christlike thing to do than go around beating up people smaller than you. (I was small at 13. Only a few people send their 13-year olds to military school, the rest are 15-18.) He didn't punch me again. Nobody did anything but at first, try to egg me on, and then when it didn't work, soak up the awkwardness and leave.
It's important, now that you've been reading my diatribes against the "moral" "majority"'s hypocrisy and impenetrable fascist rhetoric for years, that I make it clear that when I was 13, I wasn't railing on the idea of "Adam and Eve, wonder twins from Miracle Heights" the way I do now. I was just making a point that it took some good old American violence to screw up into meaningless confusion. I was a person who was being taught a lesson. Don't ask questions. Obey. Like it.
A funny thing. At the time I got socked in the mouth, my mouth was already swollen. A few days before I had whacked my face on a diving board as part of a really poor bounce, so my face was already a wreck. I still get asked what that scar above my upper lip is to this day. At the time it got busted by Maples' righteous fist of stupidity, my lip was already sticking out about a mile. I had got the nickname Howard the duck, because my lip looked like a duck bill.
I wonder how many Christians have been beat up by people not believing in the virgin birth. I bet it's not very goddamn many.
That's too bad, too. The virgin birth is totally ludicrous. Noah's ark is even worse. And the creation of everything by a big being "somewhere" just complicates the problem of how it got here, and in a way totally consistent with "mankind's need to make itself feel important" trumping common sense. In my opinion, it's the combination of ignorance and zealousness that should be punished. And I would love it if somebody tried to argue it with me, because I would enjoy embarassing them. But I think that's pretty clear by now.
"But Dale, you're wasting your time! And that's pretty childish and obviously revenge for some dunb crap that took place so many years ago!" I know. But a long as there is stupidity, there will be somebody trying to tell people there is stupidity. And I'm the guy that does that.
Well, that's the end of the fighting stories from Riverside Military Academy. Thanks for bearing with me.
Episode four, the time I got beat up by a stupid Christian.
When I was 13 I was sent to military school for the summer because I was not taking my studies seriously. As you will no doubt recall, I then did start taking my studies seriously so I wouldn't have to go back, which later backfired.
At the time, though, learning was at the top of the list, and I was 13. I was studying as everyone usually did between the hours of seven and nine PM, when I got engaged in a discussion with a suitemate about evolution. The original words are lost to my memory, but they were something along the lines of "You can't reconcile that the world was created in six days with the theory of evolution. Adam and eve, or evolution. Pick one." Come to think of it, because of what he then obviously did, this might have been the beginning of my not liking people my age during my teenage years. The gist of my statement was "You can't have both."
At Riverside during the two hour evening study period, there is a fifteen minute break for those who want to touch base with their friends, throw a frisbee, etc. Basically, you are allowed to leave your room. I left the room on this break and wished I hadn't.
No more than twenty minutes after my discussion with my dumbass suitemate, whose name I can't remember either, my words had been twisted, and I was whisked away to a room far away, in front of a group of about thirty people, with a guy named Maples in front of me.
The group pronouncement went thusly: "We heard what you've been saying about how the bible's bullshit, Shipley." My statement had been made for me. The question went up to Maples: "Whose side are you fighting on?" He answered in one word, which I will never forget. The rest of this is only approximate, but Maples, the dope, the idiot, said simply "Christianity."
Then he popped me in the face with a quick right and I just stood there bleeding. I was aghast at this development, and looking back, to take a hit was a far more Christlike thing to do than go around beating up people smaller than you. (I was small at 13. Only a few people send their 13-year olds to military school, the rest are 15-18.) He didn't punch me again. Nobody did anything but at first, try to egg me on, and then when it didn't work, soak up the awkwardness and leave.
It's important, now that you've been reading my diatribes against the "moral" "majority"'s hypocrisy and impenetrable fascist rhetoric for years, that I make it clear that when I was 13, I wasn't railing on the idea of "Adam and Eve, wonder twins from Miracle Heights" the way I do now. I was just making a point that it took some good old American violence to screw up into meaningless confusion. I was a person who was being taught a lesson. Don't ask questions. Obey. Like it.
A funny thing. At the time I got socked in the mouth, my mouth was already swollen. A few days before I had whacked my face on a diving board as part of a really poor bounce, so my face was already a wreck. I still get asked what that scar above my upper lip is to this day. At the time it got busted by Maples' righteous fist of stupidity, my lip was already sticking out about a mile. I had got the nickname Howard the duck, because my lip looked like a duck bill.
I wonder how many Christians have been beat up by people not believing in the virgin birth. I bet it's not very goddamn many.
That's too bad, too. The virgin birth is totally ludicrous. Noah's ark is even worse. And the creation of everything by a big being "somewhere" just complicates the problem of how it got here, and in a way totally consistent with "mankind's need to make itself feel important" trumping common sense. In my opinion, it's the combination of ignorance and zealousness that should be punished. And I would love it if somebody tried to argue it with me, because I would enjoy embarassing them. But I think that's pretty clear by now.
"But Dale, you're wasting your time! And that's pretty childish and obviously revenge for some dunb crap that took place so many years ago!" I know. But a long as there is stupidity, there will be somebody trying to tell people there is stupidity. And I'm the guy that does that.
Well, that's the end of the fighting stories from Riverside Military Academy. Thanks for bearing with me.
wannabe russ meyer movie
Pervert! The Official WebsiteWho knows? Maybe it'll be good. I mean bad. I mean good.
Monday
funny voice mail
/mp3
/mp3
christian puppets!
via mefi, where it was called "the scariest tv show that I have ever seen in my life."with Gray, the space alien!
And Chip, the black boy! See, people of all races know how much the bible rules!
When christian puppets die, they go to puppet heaven to live with puppet jesus forever and ever.
the junior christian science bible lesson show
When I was 13, I was probably a terrible person, but I don't have any idea. I remember failing my Tennessee history class in eighth grade, a class taught by a Mrs. Upchurch, and because of this, having to go to military school. Passing was 70. I got a 69. I concluded that Mrs. Upchurch was a bitch.
All you kids out there, when your dad says he's going to send you to military school he's probably pulling your leg, but rest assured that some of the time people do have to go to them, and they might come from families like yours. To make matters worse for me, I was sent to summer school at military school, in the summer following my eighth grade year. Boy, did that suck. Once I saw that this whole military school thing wasn't an idle threat, that I was in fact going to have to go there again for the regular year if I didn't do as I was supposed to do, I decided to work hard in school. So I got "A"s for that term, and advanced to tenth grade classes in science, math, and english the following (ninth grade) year.
My logic was that if I got good enough grades, it would be clear that I was willing to do better in school, and maybe I could go to public school and live a life that approximated normality, that pipe dream, that paradise I saw depicted so orgiastically in Juicy Fruit commercials. One guess how my little academic superstar plan backfired. I was doing so well all of a sudden that it was like a miracle and I was back for the much more highly regimented regular school year. After that, in ninth and tenth grade, my grades were mostly hovering around 75. I do have to admit that that place had a great academic program.
I was a regular cadet after that, an "old boy". I knew where things were, how to cheat on shoe shining (it's called future floor wax), and how to stalk quietly through the woods to get to "wedgy's pizza" just off campus, behind the superintendent's mansion. I sometimes wonder if I could do it from memory. When I'm working on a lathe, watching spinning steel for hours at school, I think about the geography of places I was once familiar with. Riverside comes up pretty often.
Anyway, as a ninth grader I was pretty unhappy. I started smoking that year and got yelled at a lot. I guess everyone was getting yelled at all the time too, but I thought I was supposed to care.
Once I got into tenth grade things evened out. I got on a good hall in D company, which was less gangstery, and was a more mellow crowd of pot smokers, etc. I became friends with a bunch of guys on my hall and we had a pretty good time. This is the story of them, and when they all beat the shit out of my suite-mate, Kligman.
At the end of the hall next to the commandant's apartment lived Jason, Cal, Garcia, a latin guy, and the tall, lanky Atkins. Atkins always had cigarettes and you could get him to give you one. They were menthols. Cal was from a town near Gainesville. Garcia would say "beef" like "BIF", which we thought was funny. Jason was a black guy but he didn't hang out with black guys. He hung out with us. We had a pretty good time.
The hall was under the supervision of master sergeant (remembering all these names isn't easy, I'll have you know) Chris Beckman, who roommate was a popular egyptian guy named Aziz, a good soccer player. A short way of describing the supervisory abilities of Chris Beckman, is that he probably would have noticed if the whole hall was on fire. Beckman and I were pretty good buddies. Up until the time I was about 22 or 23, he would call my mom asking how I was doing every year or so. He was probably drunk. People usually are when they make those kinds of phone calls.
I lived in a room with a guy named Lancaster, who got kicked out of school for testing positive for weed. That was because a guy named Attaway gave a bunch of names to ass't commandant Bisso, who tested all of them, including me. Lancaster was the only one to get kicked out. Attaway left the school when he did that. If he had stayed, I honestly think they would have killed him. Due to the Lancaster drug episode, I eventually had the place to myself. In the suite with me (connected by a shower stall and a toilet) were Egizio, an amiable Italian kid whose uncle drove a cab in Atlanta, and Kligman, whose family owned Mustang cigarettes, Colombia's number one brand. He brought me a pack back once from a trip home. They were like sawdust, but I was polite and didn't say anything but thank you.
Kligman and Egizio weren't in the clique of Jason, Cal, Atkins, myself, a guy named Searls, and Garcia. They weren't big on socializing. It was no big mystery why. Those other guys were always hog-tying and throwing each other outside naked for all the passing cars to see. (I didn't have to undergo this because I was taped in a ball the week before.) I had a lot of fun with this group of guys. We would put our hats on sideways and tackle every single person who came down to D company after dinner. We called it "trucking", and it was a blast.
Anyway, we had these dress hats (click here for a picture) like ones the cops wear. They have an emblem on the front and that's held on with a screw in the back. If you lose that screw, the little eagle or whatever will fall off, and that's unacceptable. Kligman lost his screw at some point so he stole Garcia's screw. He got caught doing it.
I walked into the room as Kligman was hitting the floor. I really don't remember who was punching him at that point but he got picked up, beat down again, and kicked around. It was completely unfair. Kligman's eyes were both swollen shut, his arm or wrist was broken, and he walked with a gimp after that. And I'll wager he will never steal again. He did notice I was in the room even during his destruction. I would find this out later.
When Kligman decided to press charges against the guys who beat the shit out of him, he asked me for a statement. He was going to do me a favor because he liked me, and let me write the statement rather than be subpoenaed and testify. No one else enjoyed this luxury. All my friends down the hall had their story together, that only those who were under 18 had been beating up Kligman. They were thinking (probably rightly) that adults would get a harsher sentence. If I'm not mistaken, they went to court with their story straight. It must have sucked when they read mine.
Assistant Commandant Bisso was a fat, unhappy, mistrustful man who liked to know what was going on. His nickname was batman because he would just show up unnoticed. He'd been creeping around that campus since he was a cadet there as a young man, and was good at catching people doing things they weren't supposed to be doing. He also liked to be in the middle of whatever was taking place legally. Bisso found out about my and Kligman's arrangement and hounded me for that statement daily. Looking back on it, I would guess the school was also being sued.
I prepared my statement and gave it to Kligman, asking him to give it straight to his lawyer and not Bisso. Having more people than necessary in on my intrigue and duplicity could only be a bad thing.
The first day of court when all those other guys had to go to court and I very suspiciously didn't, was the day before graduation. Bisso let me leave a day early, because I'm guessing he communicated the gravity of my personal safety situation to my family. That day was the day before graduation, when everybody normally gets to leave school. While the bomb was getting dropped in some stuffy courthouse downtown, I was drinking a Yoo-hoo, with Riverside, finally once and for all, in the rearview mirror where it belonged. Best car ride ever.
There was no way I could go back there the next year or ever again. I would have been marked as a rat, lumped in with the likes of that punk Attaway, which I only deserve on a technicality. I wish they hadn't made me do what I did, but nobody deserves a beating like that. Kligman wasn't such a bad guy.
That marked the end of that leg of my five-year high school odyssey, which would take me to Virginia and to Idaho before it was over.
I occasionally dream I'm back at Riverside, and in my dream I know I'm almost thirty now, but it somehow makes sense that I have to do military school over and over again until I get it right. As far as I'm concerned, I got it right when I left that place, but my subconscious apparently can't let go at some level. Which is too bad.
The names and places are real.
All you kids out there, when your dad says he's going to send you to military school he's probably pulling your leg, but rest assured that some of the time people do have to go to them, and they might come from families like yours. To make matters worse for me, I was sent to summer school at military school, in the summer following my eighth grade year. Boy, did that suck. Once I saw that this whole military school thing wasn't an idle threat, that I was in fact going to have to go there again for the regular year if I didn't do as I was supposed to do, I decided to work hard in school. So I got "A"s for that term, and advanced to tenth grade classes in science, math, and english the following (ninth grade) year.
My logic was that if I got good enough grades, it would be clear that I was willing to do better in school, and maybe I could go to public school and live a life that approximated normality, that pipe dream, that paradise I saw depicted so orgiastically in Juicy Fruit commercials. One guess how my little academic superstar plan backfired. I was doing so well all of a sudden that it was like a miracle and I was back for the much more highly regimented regular school year. After that, in ninth and tenth grade, my grades were mostly hovering around 75. I do have to admit that that place had a great academic program.
I was a regular cadet after that, an "old boy". I knew where things were, how to cheat on shoe shining (it's called future floor wax), and how to stalk quietly through the woods to get to "wedgy's pizza" just off campus, behind the superintendent's mansion. I sometimes wonder if I could do it from memory. When I'm working on a lathe, watching spinning steel for hours at school, I think about the geography of places I was once familiar with. Riverside comes up pretty often.
Anyway, as a ninth grader I was pretty unhappy. I started smoking that year and got yelled at a lot. I guess everyone was getting yelled at all the time too, but I thought I was supposed to care.
Once I got into tenth grade things evened out. I got on a good hall in D company, which was less gangstery, and was a more mellow crowd of pot smokers, etc. I became friends with a bunch of guys on my hall and we had a pretty good time. This is the story of them, and when they all beat the shit out of my suite-mate, Kligman.
At the end of the hall next to the commandant's apartment lived Jason, Cal, Garcia, a latin guy, and the tall, lanky Atkins. Atkins always had cigarettes and you could get him to give you one. They were menthols. Cal was from a town near Gainesville. Garcia would say "beef" like "BIF", which we thought was funny. Jason was a black guy but he didn't hang out with black guys. He hung out with us. We had a pretty good time.
The hall was under the supervision of master sergeant (remembering all these names isn't easy, I'll have you know) Chris Beckman, who roommate was a popular egyptian guy named Aziz, a good soccer player. A short way of describing the supervisory abilities of Chris Beckman, is that he probably would have noticed if the whole hall was on fire. Beckman and I were pretty good buddies. Up until the time I was about 22 or 23, he would call my mom asking how I was doing every year or so. He was probably drunk. People usually are when they make those kinds of phone calls.
I lived in a room with a guy named Lancaster, who got kicked out of school for testing positive for weed. That was because a guy named Attaway gave a bunch of names to ass't commandant Bisso, who tested all of them, including me. Lancaster was the only one to get kicked out. Attaway left the school when he did that. If he had stayed, I honestly think they would have killed him. Due to the Lancaster drug episode, I eventually had the place to myself. In the suite with me (connected by a shower stall and a toilet) were Egizio, an amiable Italian kid whose uncle drove a cab in Atlanta, and Kligman, whose family owned Mustang cigarettes, Colombia's number one brand. He brought me a pack back once from a trip home. They were like sawdust, but I was polite and didn't say anything but thank you.
Kligman and Egizio weren't in the clique of Jason, Cal, Atkins, myself, a guy named Searls, and Garcia. They weren't big on socializing. It was no big mystery why. Those other guys were always hog-tying and throwing each other outside naked for all the passing cars to see. (I didn't have to undergo this because I was taped in a ball the week before.) I had a lot of fun with this group of guys. We would put our hats on sideways and tackle every single person who came down to D company after dinner. We called it "trucking", and it was a blast.
Anyway, we had these dress hats (click here for a picture) like ones the cops wear. They have an emblem on the front and that's held on with a screw in the back. If you lose that screw, the little eagle or whatever will fall off, and that's unacceptable. Kligman lost his screw at some point so he stole Garcia's screw. He got caught doing it.
I walked into the room as Kligman was hitting the floor. I really don't remember who was punching him at that point but he got picked up, beat down again, and kicked around. It was completely unfair. Kligman's eyes were both swollen shut, his arm or wrist was broken, and he walked with a gimp after that. And I'll wager he will never steal again. He did notice I was in the room even during his destruction. I would find this out later.
When Kligman decided to press charges against the guys who beat the shit out of him, he asked me for a statement. He was going to do me a favor because he liked me, and let me write the statement rather than be subpoenaed and testify. No one else enjoyed this luxury. All my friends down the hall had their story together, that only those who were under 18 had been beating up Kligman. They were thinking (probably rightly) that adults would get a harsher sentence. If I'm not mistaken, they went to court with their story straight. It must have sucked when they read mine.
Assistant Commandant Bisso was a fat, unhappy, mistrustful man who liked to know what was going on. His nickname was batman because he would just show up unnoticed. He'd been creeping around that campus since he was a cadet there as a young man, and was good at catching people doing things they weren't supposed to be doing. He also liked to be in the middle of whatever was taking place legally. Bisso found out about my and Kligman's arrangement and hounded me for that statement daily. Looking back on it, I would guess the school was also being sued.
I prepared my statement and gave it to Kligman, asking him to give it straight to his lawyer and not Bisso. Having more people than necessary in on my intrigue and duplicity could only be a bad thing.
The first day of court when all those other guys had to go to court and I very suspiciously didn't, was the day before graduation. Bisso let me leave a day early, because I'm guessing he communicated the gravity of my personal safety situation to my family. That day was the day before graduation, when everybody normally gets to leave school. While the bomb was getting dropped in some stuffy courthouse downtown, I was drinking a Yoo-hoo, with Riverside, finally once and for all, in the rearview mirror where it belonged. Best car ride ever.
There was no way I could go back there the next year or ever again. I would have been marked as a rat, lumped in with the likes of that punk Attaway, which I only deserve on a technicality. I wish they hadn't made me do what I did, but nobody deserves a beating like that. Kligman wasn't such a bad guy.
That marked the end of that leg of my five-year high school odyssey, which would take me to Virginia and to Idaho before it was over.
I occasionally dream I'm back at Riverside, and in my dream I know I'm almost thirty now, but it somehow makes sense that I have to do military school over and over again until I get it right. As far as I'm concerned, I got it right when I left that place, but my subconscious apparently can't let go at some level. Which is too bad.
The names and places are real.
Sunday
an IM I received twenty seconds ago: "three day weekend" is a wonderful three word phrase like "ice cold beer" and "all lesbian porn"
Saturday
Another fight story from Riverside Military Academy.
Dave Wilbanks was well known to be a skinhead, so the administration of the school gave him a black roommate. His roommate's name was Armbruster, who I think was in the band. It's kind of weird that they would have had a band member away from the rest of the band, which was housed securely in a dorky haven of personal safety (unlike the rest of the school) in HQ company, which sat by itself at the top of a hill, away from the fighting and drinking and craziness. So I'm now thinking he wasn't in the band, just some other special group like the band that I've forgotten about. Anyway, Armbruster wasn't accepted by the rest of the black guys. He actually didn't fit in at all. It was like he was gay or something. Dave Wilbanks knew the administration was screwing around with him by putting him there, so he didn't get worked up about it. It was the cost of doing business as who he was.
In 1990-91, the black guys were the most powerful single minority group in the school. The next year that somehow changed and it became the egyptians, but that year they talked pretty loud all over the school. Nathan Scott, who you may remember from before, was not a part of this group. Nobody outside B and C companies really was.
There was kind of a silent contract between the blacks and Dave Wilbanks. He didn't pick on any of them, and they didn't provoke him. There was the danger that Dave had people that they just didn't know about, and so the power balance remained, uh, balanced. Out of the big black guys, there were about three you really didn't want to piss off at all. The two I can remember were Manley and Laurent. They kind of "ran shit" around B and C companies, which were adjacent.
I don't know what happened here. There's no back-story that I know of. I just know I opened my door and there was Armbruster getting the beating of a lifetime.
Laurent had Armbruster up against the railing and was uppercutting him like crazy. There were three of Laurent's friends there saying "show that nigga what time it is!" over and over. You may have seen this on television at some point. I guess they're cheerleaders. And Laurent was showing him what time it was, and it was time to get your ass kicked. Once Laurent had beat him till he was on the ground, they left, and Armbruster lay in a pile of lonely, bleeding blackness in front of my room.
I want to tell two more of these. The time they beat the shit out of Kligman, if that's his name, and the time I got beat up by a guy who fought on the side of Christianity.
Off to Elko.
Dave Wilbanks was well known to be a skinhead, so the administration of the school gave him a black roommate. His roommate's name was Armbruster, who I think was in the band. It's kind of weird that they would have had a band member away from the rest of the band, which was housed securely in a dorky haven of personal safety (unlike the rest of the school) in HQ company, which sat by itself at the top of a hill, away from the fighting and drinking and craziness. So I'm now thinking he wasn't in the band, just some other special group like the band that I've forgotten about. Anyway, Armbruster wasn't accepted by the rest of the black guys. He actually didn't fit in at all. It was like he was gay or something. Dave Wilbanks knew the administration was screwing around with him by putting him there, so he didn't get worked up about it. It was the cost of doing business as who he was.
In 1990-91, the black guys were the most powerful single minority group in the school. The next year that somehow changed and it became the egyptians, but that year they talked pretty loud all over the school. Nathan Scott, who you may remember from before, was not a part of this group. Nobody outside B and C companies really was.
There was kind of a silent contract between the blacks and Dave Wilbanks. He didn't pick on any of them, and they didn't provoke him. There was the danger that Dave had people that they just didn't know about, and so the power balance remained, uh, balanced. Out of the big black guys, there were about three you really didn't want to piss off at all. The two I can remember were Manley and Laurent. They kind of "ran shit" around B and C companies, which were adjacent.
I don't know what happened here. There's no back-story that I know of. I just know I opened my door and there was Armbruster getting the beating of a lifetime.
Laurent had Armbruster up against the railing and was uppercutting him like crazy. There were three of Laurent's friends there saying "show that nigga what time it is!" over and over. You may have seen this on television at some point. I guess they're cheerleaders. And Laurent was showing him what time it was, and it was time to get your ass kicked. Once Laurent had beat him till he was on the ground, they left, and Armbruster lay in a pile of lonely, bleeding blackness in front of my room.
I want to tell two more of these. The time they beat the shit out of Kligman, if that's his name, and the time I got beat up by a guy who fought on the side of Christianity.
Off to Elko.
GPS-enabled underwear
for those who do not trust the whereabouts of the ladies.forget-me-not panties : with sensatech technology
Friday
overdue health update:
My normally outstanding health has hit a bump in the metaphorical health road. I am dizzy and it is because clogged eustachian tubes have got water backed up behind my eardrum. Consequently, my semicircular canals are sluggish and this sends my brain mixed signals about motion. Because of this, my brain experiences "motion sickness", which the good doctor decided we ought to treat with meclizine 25, tid, commonly sold over the counter as a less-drowsy motion sickness drug. Let me tell you, though, less drowsy still means drowsy. Yawn.
I am treating the underlying cause with pseudoephedrine, and if it doesn't work to get the tube cleared, I will eventually have to get the stupid eardrum pierced and ear drained. Which I just know is going to hurt like a bitch.
I'm feeling fine, though. Strong enough to pull the ears off a gundar.
My normally outstanding health has hit a bump in the metaphorical health road. I am dizzy and it is because clogged eustachian tubes have got water backed up behind my eardrum. Consequently, my semicircular canals are sluggish and this sends my brain mixed signals about motion. Because of this, my brain experiences "motion sickness", which the good doctor decided we ought to treat with meclizine 25, tid, commonly sold over the counter as a less-drowsy motion sickness drug. Let me tell you, though, less drowsy still means drowsy. Yawn.
I am treating the underlying cause with pseudoephedrine, and if it doesn't work to get the tube cleared, I will eventually have to get the stupid eardrum pierced and ear drained. Which I just know is going to hurt like a bitch.
I'm feeling fine, though. Strong enough to pull the ears off a gundar.
From last month's Harper's,
Inside America's most powerful megachurch
Soldiers of Christ (Harpers.org)
The guy in charge of this craziness is named Pastor Ted, and he gets invited to hang out with the president all the time. Read it and weep for the future.
In case you just want the gist of it, this is pretty good:
Meet your new puppet master: Pastor Ted
Here's the man himself, from his own website. When you apply your noggin to the incredibly simple task of figuring out there's no such thing as hell, this starts to seem pretty creepy.
Inside America's most powerful megachurch
Soldiers of Christ (Harpers.org)
The guy in charge of this craziness is named Pastor Ted, and he gets invited to hang out with the president all the time. Read it and weep for the future.
In case you just want the gist of it, this is pretty good:
Meet your new puppet master: Pastor Ted
Here's the man himself, from his own website. When you apply your noggin to the incredibly simple task of figuring out there's no such thing as hell, this starts to seem pretty creepy.
Thursday
McSweeney's Internet Tendency: An Open Letter to the Couple Who Found My Panties in Their Yard Last Summer.
I mentioned that a guy named Flanagan died at my military school.
You can read all about it at this site.
Reading it should give you an idea how out of control the whole situation was at athat school. Students had far too much power over other students. It was like Lord of the flies all the time there.
You can read all about it at this site.
Reading it should give you an idea how out of control the whole situation was at athat school. Students had far too much power over other students. It was like Lord of the flies all the time there.
I was in the shower when it occurred to me that I have been missing an opportunity to tell stories that people might remember from military/boarding school and then look up via google. Stories about guys getting in fights, mainly. Those are the big ones that military school revolves around, or at least it did from where I was standing. So I thought I'd just go ahead and put one down.
At Riverside Military Academy, in Gainesville, Georgia, in about 1990, there was a student named Nathan Scott. Nathan Scott had the biggest mouth in D company. He was a black guy who liked to fight, and he liked to talk about how he liked to fight. I remember him saying that "I like to fight in Nikes." He got in a fight over not much with another student whose last name was Cherico, and Scott kicked his ass. Not too bad, though. Word got around about this, there was normally a fight or two a week that made gossip headlines, and eventually this guy named Dave Wilbanks heard about it.
Dave Wilbanks was the toughest guy in school. Out of 500+ "cadets", he was the one who would destroy any of the other ones. It was rumored that he was on steroids and was prone to flying off the handle. Dave Wilbanks was also a "white power" guy. He made this symbol
all over the place. If there was dust on a table, he would trace it with his finger. To us the circle with the line through it meant Dave Wilbanks. To the rest of the world it means "white power".
Once Dave heard about this big black guy beating up a smaller white guy over something small and then talking about it, he put a bandana on over his shaved head (of course it was shaved) and went from B company over to D company, and found Nathan Scott.
What happened next varied depending on who you talked to, but there was no doubt people would have skipped lunch for a week for a ticket. It was an ass-beating like only a few others we had that year. A guy would die in one of them. His name was Flanagan.
But back to Scott's demise. Tables and chairs were turned into kindling, there was no doubt of this. (There's always a period during which people survey the evidence and recreate events in their minds' eye. That's when you have to show up if you want to know what happened. That's what the CNN newscrews are are always doing on the scene making noise, but CNN is always bigger than the story, so everything gets messed up.) Some people said that Dave smashed them over Scott's head or body, but I think most of the things that were smashed were smashed by Nathan Scott's body flying through them. Dave was a big guy among big guys. After whatever it was that happened, Scott's eyes were swollen shut and one arm was in a sling, and Dave got in trouble. Not too much, trouble, though. Scott had it coming. Had he known how hard he was going to get his ass beat, he would have quieted down earlier, but too late. Justice was served, in its own weird way.
Later in the year, I moved from company D to company B. Some kids named Rojas from Panama (who I trounced the next year, satisfyingly), and Berenger, a Cuban, were messing with me in my sleep and I had no recourse but to move to a different company. When I got to B company, I was on Dave Wilbanks's hall.
Incidentally, there was a kid there named Seth Ramsbottom, who was a known fighter, but wouldn't you be, too, if your name was Ramsbottom?
More about me:
In West Philadelphia born and raised, on the playground is where I spent most of my days. Chilling out, maxing, relaxing all cool and shootin' some B-ball outside of the school. Then a couple of guys who were up to no good, started making trouble in my neighborhood. As you can imagine, I was disturbed. I got in one little fight and my mom got scared; she said "you're moving with your auntie and uncle in Bel-Air".
At Riverside Military Academy, in Gainesville, Georgia, in about 1990, there was a student named Nathan Scott. Nathan Scott had the biggest mouth in D company. He was a black guy who liked to fight, and he liked to talk about how he liked to fight. I remember him saying that "I like to fight in Nikes." He got in a fight over not much with another student whose last name was Cherico, and Scott kicked his ass. Not too bad, though. Word got around about this, there was normally a fight or two a week that made gossip headlines, and eventually this guy named Dave Wilbanks heard about it.
Dave Wilbanks was the toughest guy in school. Out of 500+ "cadets", he was the one who would destroy any of the other ones. It was rumored that he was on steroids and was prone to flying off the handle. Dave Wilbanks was also a "white power" guy. He made this symbol
all over the place. If there was dust on a table, he would trace it with his finger. To us the circle with the line through it meant Dave Wilbanks. To the rest of the world it means "white power".
Once Dave heard about this big black guy beating up a smaller white guy over something small and then talking about it, he put a bandana on over his shaved head (of course it was shaved) and went from B company over to D company, and found Nathan Scott.
What happened next varied depending on who you talked to, but there was no doubt people would have skipped lunch for a week for a ticket. It was an ass-beating like only a few others we had that year. A guy would die in one of them. His name was Flanagan.
But back to Scott's demise. Tables and chairs were turned into kindling, there was no doubt of this. (There's always a period during which people survey the evidence and recreate events in their minds' eye. That's when you have to show up if you want to know what happened. That's what the CNN newscrews are are always doing on the scene making noise, but CNN is always bigger than the story, so everything gets messed up.) Some people said that Dave smashed them over Scott's head or body, but I think most of the things that were smashed were smashed by Nathan Scott's body flying through them. Dave was a big guy among big guys. After whatever it was that happened, Scott's eyes were swollen shut and one arm was in a sling, and Dave got in trouble. Not too much, trouble, though. Scott had it coming. Had he known how hard he was going to get his ass beat, he would have quieted down earlier, but too late. Justice was served, in its own weird way.
Later in the year, I moved from company D to company B. Some kids named Rojas from Panama (who I trounced the next year, satisfyingly), and Berenger, a Cuban, were messing with me in my sleep and I had no recourse but to move to a different company. When I got to B company, I was on Dave Wilbanks's hall.
Incidentally, there was a kid there named Seth Ramsbottom, who was a known fighter, but wouldn't you be, too, if your name was Ramsbottom?
More about me:
In West Philadelphia born and raised, on the playground is where I spent most of my days. Chilling out, maxing, relaxing all cool and shootin' some B-ball outside of the school. Then a couple of guys who were up to no good, started making trouble in my neighborhood. As you can imagine, I was disturbed. I got in one little fight and my mom got scared; she said "you're moving with your auntie and uncle in Bel-Air".
Wednesday
interesting, ominous clouds
It's huge, it's funny, it's P U N C H B A B Y . C O M
not good, newsweek
I like honesty as much as anyone, but I thought the point of progress was elevating the debate. This is pretty sloppy.Riding Sun: Newsweek: America is dead
why oh why would anyone want to look at a scantily clad brunette?
heavens no, it isn't safe for work.
heavens no, it isn't safe for work.
French fries protester regrets war jibe
"now the US politician who led the campaign to change the name of french fries to "freedom fries" has turned against the war.Walter Jones, the Republican congressman for North Carolina who was also the brains behind french toast becoming freedom toast in Capitol Hill restaurants, told a local newspaper the US went to war "with no justification". "
Guardian Unlimited | Special reports | French fries protester regrets war jibe
Tuesday
totally desktop-worthy pictures
Yesterday was very recreative. Firsbee golf at Kaposia park, where I found a disc in the tall weeds (score). Then later we went to lake Calhoun and fished. My brother caught a walleye on a spinner bait and Chet caught a couple of bass. I, as usual, didn't catch a damn thing. Chet did finally pay me for a car, though, which I think I gave him in August. Whenever it was, I have been paid. Yay.
Speaking of money, someone just called me from my school's financial aid office and there is apparently money available from a certain kind of loan that I was told by someone else (the new girl), wasn't. The loan I applied for in place of the loan I wasn't going to get has a higher interest rate so the lady who knows what she's doing called me to ask me what I was thinking when I applied for the expensive loan and broke it down to me. Now I have to get some of the money I was going to get at a lower interest rate and some of the other money at the high rate. It requires a comprehensive reshuffling of data. So that's another thing I have to get my fiancee to deal with. She deals with it all as long as I don't screw it up.
The book mediated has opened my eyes to the phenomenon of events becoming "events", and I had a moment of irritation yesterday related to this. While my brother and I were waiting for Chet to go get his trailer and truck to haul the boat out of the lake, someone was at the bottom of the ramp letting their boat off. That truck's tailpipe was about four inches under the surface and the exhaust was bubbling up out of the water. I remarked to the lady accompanying that truck's driver that I liked watching the exhaust bubbling up like that. She said
"Why, is that poisonous for the lake?" I said, "No, I just like watching it come up like that." Then she said "Well, are you saying you don't like it because it's ugly?"
At that point I lost patience. In a world where people are so accustomed to using saying one thing to mean another, I am forced to defend the simplicity of my original statement. "No, I actually just enjoy the sight of it. Like looking at it right there. I like the way it looks. Water bubbling. That's all." God damn.
My lovely fiancee tore a wall down in a closet yesterday. It was plaster and lath, and now it's just lath. There must have been sixty, maybe seventy pounds of stuff she tore off the wall. We're trying to get the wall to where we can hang stuff on it, like a closet rod. A carpenter is coming today to drywall it.
I have a doctor's appointment at eleven twenty, to try and figure out why I'm dizzy all the time. And I am. Ranging from slightly dizzy to very at times. Not "lying in bed drunk as hell with the spins" dizzy, but "reading in the car" dizzy, which is a pretty unpleasant experience. I'm also going to thank a diffrent doctor for motivating me to quit smoking. It's been nine or ten months now.
For anyone looking for someplace to go where the weather is perfect, come to Minneapolis right now. This is what we spend the six-month winter looking forward to. It's seventy two and sunny. Also, it's too early in the day for the obnoxious Harley guys to fire up their hogs, so the sound of the city isn't unpleasant either.
Speaking of money, someone just called me from my school's financial aid office and there is apparently money available from a certain kind of loan that I was told by someone else (the new girl), wasn't. The loan I applied for in place of the loan I wasn't going to get has a higher interest rate so the lady who knows what she's doing called me to ask me what I was thinking when I applied for the expensive loan and broke it down to me. Now I have to get some of the money I was going to get at a lower interest rate and some of the other money at the high rate. It requires a comprehensive reshuffling of data. So that's another thing I have to get my fiancee to deal with. She deals with it all as long as I don't screw it up.
The book mediated has opened my eyes to the phenomenon of events becoming "events", and I had a moment of irritation yesterday related to this. While my brother and I were waiting for Chet to go get his trailer and truck to haul the boat out of the lake, someone was at the bottom of the ramp letting their boat off. That truck's tailpipe was about four inches under the surface and the exhaust was bubbling up out of the water. I remarked to the lady accompanying that truck's driver that I liked watching the exhaust bubbling up like that. She said
"Why, is that poisonous for the lake?" I said, "No, I just like watching it come up like that." Then she said "Well, are you saying you don't like it because it's ugly?"
At that point I lost patience. In a world where people are so accustomed to using saying one thing to mean another, I am forced to defend the simplicity of my original statement. "No, I actually just enjoy the sight of it. Like looking at it right there. I like the way it looks. Water bubbling. That's all." God damn.
My lovely fiancee tore a wall down in a closet yesterday. It was plaster and lath, and now it's just lath. There must have been sixty, maybe seventy pounds of stuff she tore off the wall. We're trying to get the wall to where we can hang stuff on it, like a closet rod. A carpenter is coming today to drywall it.
I have a doctor's appointment at eleven twenty, to try and figure out why I'm dizzy all the time. And I am. Ranging from slightly dizzy to very at times. Not "lying in bed drunk as hell with the spins" dizzy, but "reading in the car" dizzy, which is a pretty unpleasant experience. I'm also going to thank a diffrent doctor for motivating me to quit smoking. It's been nine or ten months now.
For anyone looking for someplace to go where the weather is perfect, come to Minneapolis right now. This is what we spend the six-month winter looking forward to. It's seventy two and sunny. Also, it's too early in the day for the obnoxious Harley guys to fire up their hogs, so the sound of the city isn't unpleasant either.
"Even though your ultimate goal in life is homemaking..."
blinkytreefrog: On Becoming a Woman - A tale of many unspeakable dangers.
blinkytreefrog: On Becoming a Woman - A tale of many unspeakable dangers.
Monday
LAURA BUSH BRINGS PEACE TO MIDDLE EAST
JERUSALEM (AP) --
Peace has broken out in the Holy Land following a Sunday statement by First Lady Laura Bush.
In her statement Bush said," We're reminded again of what we all want, what every one of us pray for.What we all want is peace."At which time the crowds of jeering Palestinians grew silent.
"Hey! She's right!" came a shout from the crowd, amd a spontaneous outbreak of peace began.
Israeli soldier Lev Nussimbaum, who had been providing security for the First Lady's trip to the Temple Mount, unloaded the M-16 he had kept aimed at the crowd of protestors and tossed it aside. "Won't be needing that anymore," he said before laying a big kiss on the first Palestinian he saw.
"I am so happy! Thank you Laura! Thank you so much!" said a former Hamas terrorist wiping tears of joy from his eyes as he embraced a Jewish settler.
Ultra Zionist Rabbi Ari Katz and Militant Imam Mahmud Izzat were seen skipping through the streets of Jerusalem arm in arm, cotton candy sticking to their coarse beards. Katz's nickname for Mahmoud is reported to be "Slim", while Mahmoud has been heard calling Katz "Dozer". "I can't tell you how happy we all are," Rabbi Katz said, before a giggling Mahmoud interupted him to say that now he'll have to use all those nails from all those nail bombs to fix his screen door.
Jerusalem's sanitation department was forced to declare Monday "Weapons Disposal Day" as the tons and tons of now useless rifles, grenades, and suicide belts have become piling up in the streets. One bewildered Sanitation worker said "Folks just don't need 'em anymore thanks to Laura."
As she left Bush waved to the crowds of cheering Israelis and Palestinians who held signs reading "Why could't you have come 4,000 years ago?" and "Stay and Be Our Queen". She then said "My work here is done," boarded the plane, and flew back to Crawford, TX.
Thanks for the email Joel.
JERUSALEM (AP) --
Peace has broken out in the Holy Land following a Sunday statement by First Lady Laura Bush.
In her statement Bush said," We're reminded again of what we all want, what every one of us pray for.What we all want is peace."At which time the crowds of jeering Palestinians grew silent.
"Hey! She's right!" came a shout from the crowd, amd a spontaneous outbreak of peace began.
Israeli soldier Lev Nussimbaum, who had been providing security for the First Lady's trip to the Temple Mount, unloaded the M-16 he had kept aimed at the crowd of protestors and tossed it aside. "Won't be needing that anymore," he said before laying a big kiss on the first Palestinian he saw.
"I am so happy! Thank you Laura! Thank you so much!" said a former Hamas terrorist wiping tears of joy from his eyes as he embraced a Jewish settler.
Ultra Zionist Rabbi Ari Katz and Militant Imam Mahmud Izzat were seen skipping through the streets of Jerusalem arm in arm, cotton candy sticking to their coarse beards. Katz's nickname for Mahmoud is reported to be "Slim", while Mahmoud has been heard calling Katz "Dozer". "I can't tell you how happy we all are," Rabbi Katz said, before a giggling Mahmoud interupted him to say that now he'll have to use all those nails from all those nail bombs to fix his screen door.
Jerusalem's sanitation department was forced to declare Monday "Weapons Disposal Day" as the tons and tons of now useless rifles, grenades, and suicide belts have become piling up in the streets. One bewildered Sanitation worker said "Folks just don't need 'em anymore thanks to Laura."
As she left Bush waved to the crowds of cheering Israelis and Palestinians who held signs reading "Why could't you have come 4,000 years ago?" and "Stay and Be Our Queen". She then said "My work here is done," boarded the plane, and flew back to Crawford, TX.
Thanks for the email Joel.
Sunday
David Cross: Pitchfork Artist List
Newsweek relied on faulty intelligence to write a magazine article. George W. Bush relied on faulty intelligence to start a war which has cost over $200 billion, and which has taken the lives of over 1600 Americans and tens of thousands of Iraqis.
Here's the difference. Newsweek didn't know its intelligence was phony. And Newsweek apologized.
-the Huffington post
Galloway vs. The US Senate: Transcript of Statement
Roadcasting
Newsweek relied on faulty intelligence to write a magazine article. George W. Bush relied on faulty intelligence to start a war which has cost over $200 billion, and which has taken the lives of over 1600 Americans and tens of thousands of Iraqis.
Here's the difference. Newsweek didn't know its intelligence was phony. And Newsweek apologized.
-the Huffington post
Galloway vs. The US Senate: Transcript of Statement
Roadcasting
here comes the creationist museum
Ministry uses dinosaurs to dispute evolutionlooks like there's already one in another red state
The Observer | International | Would you Adam 'n' Eve it ... dinosaurs in Eden
1-800 numbers
The first time I ever saw 1-800 phone sex numbers was in the back of a hustler magazine. There were hundreds of them. I would remember this years later when I wanted to play a trick on somebody at work, and dialed one of those numbers and handed him the phone.If you take any seven letters that together spell something extremely sexual, you will probably be rewarded with a recording of some woman telling you how happy you will be if you give her your credit card number. Today I did 1-800 WET TITS. I used to like 1-800 FAT GIRL but I decided to branch out and try something new. Fat girl was funnier, but wet tits is more extreme.
If you hear any that are as good as those two, let me know. I have a lot of coworkers to play tricks on.
i love McSweeney's
REASONS I DON'T FEEL LIKE I'M FAMILY WHEN AT THE OLIVE GARDEN.By Matthew Rorem
The hostess never hints that she'd really like it if I went to law school.
The busboy is always very polite about denying my requests for money.
The waiter never hits me, pulls my hair, or tells on me for things I never did.
The manager never cheats on my dad.
The dishwashers don't like it when I hug them goodbye.
McSweeney's Internet Tendency
overheard:
"My brother's going to think all we do is fight if you don't shut up."
Last night about ten rows back a guy was reaching up his girlfriend's shirt at the racetrack. So I blew a whistle and the morality police showed up and took them away for re-education without having to interrupt the races. I like it when everybody wins.
John popped a tire on his car and since the spare tire compartment is occupied by speakers and stuff, his father drove down to pick us up. He got there just as it was starting to rain. Excellent.
When Merle Haggard sang about being a highwayman, what the heck is a highwayman? A hitchhiker or a trucker, or something else entirely?
first lady's stupid speech saved by awesome dunk
"My brother's going to think all we do is fight if you don't shut up."
Last night about ten rows back a guy was reaching up his girlfriend's shirt at the racetrack. So I blew a whistle and the morality police showed up and took them away for re-education without having to interrupt the races. I like it when everybody wins.
John popped a tire on his car and since the spare tire compartment is occupied by speakers and stuff, his father drove down to pick us up. He got there just as it was starting to rain. Excellent.
When Merle Haggard sang about being a highwayman, what the heck is a highwayman? A hitchhiker or a trucker, or something else entirely?
first lady's stupid speech saved by awesome dunk
Saturday
Friday
Thursday
Poop on Ryan Seacrest
"Um, his Walk of Fame star, that is. Someone named "Assistant Atlas" is having a contest on his site: poop on Ryan Seacrest's star and win $50."
"Um, his Walk of Fame star, that is. Someone named "Assistant Atlas" is having a contest on his site: poop on Ryan Seacrest's star and win $50."
"o'er yonder"
A play in one act.Act I.
THE END
I think my favorite lie I ever told, just for the sake of telling a lie, was that my mother's sister was a backup singer for Billy Squier. That when you heard "STROKE!" being chanted on the radio, that was my aunt. I told this lie for no reason, other than I thought the idea of that woman singing that song was hilariously out of character, and there was really no way to introduce someone to her so they would get it, but the idea kept bugging me so I had to just get it out and move on.
Today I am, well, doing nothing, obviously, so far, but my brother is scheduled to arrive some time this afternoon, and I am going to read more of, and hopefully finish "mediated" by Thomas De Zengotita.
the funniest video of a topless woman you will see today.
These things are too big. Much too big.
NSFW
These things are too big. Much too big.
NSFW
Kiefer
There might be something funnier than when American actors whore themselves to cheesy advertisers in Japan, but right now nothing springs to mind.calorie mate video
This video has terrible music, and fairly low quality. The good part doesn't even come till about a third of the way through. But if you don't know how exciting a boxer Mike Tyson was in the eighties, this will clear it up for you.
Mike Tyson in the Ring
Mike Tyson in the Ring
Waiting for C.E.O.'s to Go 'Nuclear' - New York Times:
"(Quick review: We spend 15 percent of G.D.P. on health. Other rich nations spend 10 percent or less, but they manage to insure everyone - and have equal or better public health outcomes. And we have huge variations in practice patterns and medical spending that bear no relation to quality. Bottom line: radical inefficiency.)"
"(Quick review: We spend 15 percent of G.D.P. on health. Other rich nations spend 10 percent or less, but they manage to insure everyone - and have equal or better public health outcomes. And we have huge variations in practice patterns and medical spending that bear no relation to quality. Bottom line: radical inefficiency.)"
I'll never be able to find the post she was commenting on (there are 3,252 to choose from), but I found this comment from Linda on my haloscan comment manager:
I know that this comment is towards an obscenely old post, so I'm engaging in necrophilia BIG TIME, BUT... ...No matter how many months pass from Election Day 2004, this explanation seems the best one, no matter how many other respectable editorials and op-eds in other magazines try to convince readers of otherwise. There was NO excuse. No matter how many jerks and idealists try to convince me that somehow I don't relate to huge chunks of my own country (particularly on MY side -- I live in Atlanta) because I thought that crooked, lying, two-faced benefactors of nepotism and warmongering imperialists were somehow less qualified to hold the highest offices of the land than an actual war veteran with barely any egregious crap on his record (not that war veterans are immune to wrongdoing, but Kerry, at least, wasn't some sanctimonious jerk like Bush & Co.), and that I didn't think the world as I knew it was going to end tomorrow because gay marriage and abortion were thought of by some as NON-ISSUES and that I actually wanted some guy who might bring gas prices and the deficit down rather than attempt to take away every safety net known to man...Medicare, Social Security... ...Sorry for thinking that Bush didn't deserve a second chance, but those of you who did were dupes and you know it...
BitTorrent Goes Trackerless:
"As part of our ongoing efforts to make publishing files on the Web painless and disruptively cheap, BitTorrent has released a 'trackerless' version of BitTorrent in a new release.'
"As part of our ongoing efforts to make publishing files on the Web painless and disruptively cheap, BitTorrent has released a 'trackerless' version of BitTorrent in a new release.'
things Roger Miller says you can't do
roller skate in a buffalo herdgo swimming in a baseball pool
change film with a kid on your back
take a shower in a parakeet cage
drive around with a tiger in your car
Wednesday
wow
This is the most offensive thing I've seen since the HOT 97 tsunami song. (If you want a copy of that let me know.) It's neo-nazi guys who have sex with black hookers! Hell no, it isn't safe for work!Nazi Niggers - White is Right
For my brother:
Hey man, all I'm saying is vector marketing has gotten some really bad reviews,
Student Group Wants to Slice Up Vector
students unite against vector
STOP the Scamful ways of Vector Marketing and Cutco Cutlery Petition
U of M - The Manitoban - 3 November 2004: "A company that recruits students at campuses around North America, including the University of Manitoba, is being accused of unethical business practices by an Internet-based student group."
Hey man, all I'm saying is vector marketing has gotten some really bad reviews,
Student Group Wants to Slice Up Vector
students unite against vector
STOP the Scamful ways of Vector Marketing and Cutco Cutlery Petition
U of M - The Manitoban - 3 November 2004: "A company that recruits students at campuses around North America, including the University of Manitoba, is being accused of unethical business practices by an Internet-based student group."
Sometimes it takes a Brit.
George Galloway stomped Norm Coleman (whose rise to political power is your prototypical uninspiring story) thusly:
In typical American "fair and balanced-ness fashion", placed prior to this in the story was this:
Does it strike you how funny it is that that's all Norm's got? That is some weak shit. For CNN even to call that pussy move hitting back, is just pathetic. More like "With his tail between his legs, Norm muttered something totally predictable to try to save face." After the session he "hit back"? Where was he during the session? Bound and gagged? Did he hit back strongly? Did he dish the pain To Galloway's British ass? Miserable!
A long time ago, we passed the point where everybody who likes the president was going to be able to like the news, as long as that news was actually true. At this time, it's very clear that whoever contradicts the party's opinion has to be immediately harangued by general accusations along the lines of Coleman's "credibility" bilge. The wound has to be cauterized, and this party's shtick is in the ICU. It's a good thing for them that major news organizations will snap up whatever crumbs McLellan and the pentagon gang throw out any given day.
Sooner or later, "the news" is going to show what a dishonest criminal the president is, and exactly how much damage the extreme right wing's agenda has done to this country. I'm always hoping that stories like this are going to signal the sea change.
CNN.com - Galloway: I won Senate showdown - May 18, 2005
George Galloway stomped Norm Coleman (whose rise to political power is your prototypical uninspiring story) thusly:
"I told the world that Iraq, contrary to your claims, did not have weapons of mass destruction. I told the world, contrary to your claims, that Iraq had no connection to al Qaeda. I told the world, contrary to your claims, that Iraq had no connection to the atrocity on 9/11, 2001," he told Coleman.
"Senator, in everything I said about Iraq, I turned out to be right and you turned out to be wrong. And 100,000 people have paid with their lives -- 1,600 of them American soldiers sent to their deaths on a pack of lies, 15,000 of them wounded, many of them disabled forever, on a pack of lies."
He added: "Senator, this is the mother of all smokescreens. You are trying to divert attention from the crimes that you supported."
In typical American "fair and balanced-ness fashion", placed prior to this in the story was this:
But the panel's Republican chairman, Sen. Norm Coleman of Minnesota, hit back, telling media after the session that Galloway's credibility was "very suspect.
Does it strike you how funny it is that that's all Norm's got? That is some weak shit. For CNN even to call that pussy move hitting back, is just pathetic. More like "With his tail between his legs, Norm muttered something totally predictable to try to save face." After the session he "hit back"? Where was he during the session? Bound and gagged? Did he hit back strongly? Did he dish the pain To Galloway's British ass? Miserable!
A long time ago, we passed the point where everybody who likes the president was going to be able to like the news, as long as that news was actually true. At this time, it's very clear that whoever contradicts the party's opinion has to be immediately harangued by general accusations along the lines of Coleman's "credibility" bilge. The wound has to be cauterized, and this party's shtick is in the ICU. It's a good thing for them that major news organizations will snap up whatever crumbs McLellan and the pentagon gang throw out any given day.
Sooner or later, "the news" is going to show what a dishonest criminal the president is, and exactly how much damage the extreme right wing's agenda has done to this country. I'm always hoping that stories like this are going to signal the sea change.
CNN.com - Galloway: I won Senate showdown - May 18, 2005
In the contemporary United States, reality sounds increasingly like a joke. Boldface mine.
Air Force Seeks Bush's Approval for Space Weapons Programs - New York Times
To make this sound as much like star wars as possible,
"Pentagon documents say the weapon, called the common aero vehicle, could strike from halfway around the world in 45 minutes. "This is the type of prompt Global Strike I have identified as a top priority for our space and missile force," General Lord said."
But that's nothing. The end of the story:
"But General Lord said such problems should not stand in the way of the Air Force's plans to move into space.
"Space superiority is not our birthright, but it is our destiny," he told an Air Force conference in September. "Space superiority is our day-to-day mission. Space supremacy is our vision for the future.""
Air Force Seeks Bush's Approval for Space Weapons Programs - New York Times
To make this sound as much like star wars as possible,
"Pentagon documents say the weapon, called the common aero vehicle, could strike from halfway around the world in 45 minutes. "This is the type of prompt Global Strike I have identified as a top priority for our space and missile force," General Lord said."
But that's nothing. The end of the story:
"But General Lord said such problems should not stand in the way of the Air Force's plans to move into space.
"Space superiority is not our birthright, but it is our destiny," he told an Air Force conference in September. "Space superiority is our day-to-day mission. Space supremacy is our vision for the future.""
Tuesday
Let's pretend I didn't kill that guy.
Inmate Penpals. Lonely Attractive Male and Female Inmates in the USA Seek Penpals
In which is asked, how exactly did the resurrection of Jesus occur?
ABC News: The Resurrection of Jesus Christ
ABC News: The Resurrection of Jesus Christ
Corporation for Politicized Broadcasting: Tune In, Turn On, Turn Right: Mark Fiore
More on this actual thing:
A Battle Over Programming at National Public Radio - New York Times
More on this actual thing:
A Battle Over Programming at National Public Radio - New York Times
"Kansas Debate Challenges Science Itself"!
That's worded so, so badly.Kansas Debate Challenges Science Itself - Yahoo! News
lol
I know lol is stupid, but this deserves it.Mexico's Fox [says he] Regrets Comment About Blacks
"In a speech Friday, Fox praised the dedication of Mexicans working in the United States, saying they're willing to take jobs that "even blacks" won't do."
Monday
I am not a lover of mankind. I often wonder if it weren't for us, how the food would get to the toilet. That's about all the need the world has for us. It needs us to use it up and throw it away.
Sometimes I wonder how old a person has to be to comprehend that suicide is an option that might be the best one. Does a baby who dies of "crib death" just kind of give up? Is sudden infant death syndrome, and pediatric suicide, actually something else entirely that we call suicide for a lack of understanding? Couldn't be! People understand everything. Especially about babies.
I was asking this question to a co-worker yesterday, and was irritated by what happened next. The meta-commentary that saturates everything sucked it away; we were unable to have the conversation without his addressing the fact we were having it, which had the effect, as it always does, of making it dumb. "Man, that's a pretty cheerful thing to contemplate, Dale!" Growl.
The reason this came up was my being upset. I am gradually growing more annoyed by the fact that some people get to feel all happy when they think about god, and I don't. Why do they get to feel fuzzy and warm inside, and I have to know that that feeling is a euphoria that I bring on myself? It isn't fair. I could work myself up into speaking in tongues if I felt like it. I could go on a guided meditation (prayer) and give someone control of the way I feel, for the short-term payoff. It must feel really good when a preacher-man gets you feeling gooey about the lord. It's a bummer that there's no holy spirit. At least for me.
I had a conversation about "spirituality" earlier with Colleen, a friend who I haven't seen in months, over a coffee. Actually I had water, but whatever. Spirituality is what people talk about when they want to be cooler than religious people but want all the same benefits. Try telling them about it, though.
Me: If there's a soul, it deserves to be studied, looked at, learned about. Wouldn't you say? I mean, could there be anything more important to study? But every time you start asking serious questions about it, it turns out not to be anywhere at all! So what's the fixation?
Her: Well, actually, quantum theory sums it up quite nicely.
Me: How?
Her: Well, it's that when you look for it, it changes. Or something. I should get you some of those books to read.
Me:...
As I then learned from her, after the spiritual ones' arguments are beaten, they're just going to come back with some sopping tripe about love.
To which I replied: "Ok, two people love each other. Magical. Until they have to fight for food. We're no different from the rest of the animals." That kind of deconstruction is so easy, so correct, so irrefutable, and so absolutely ruining to the concept of spirituality overall, that I am bewildered that the world hasn't collectively awoken to the fact that spirituality and fifty cents will get you a cup of coffee. It won't do you or anybody else a damn bit of good, other than accomplish mental laziness, so that you can space out and think about how cozy hearts and bunnies make you feel inside. And big hugs! Awwwww...
Yes, I am angry. Angry at everyone who can't have a conversation about this on a purely realistic level, angry at everyone who can't have a conversation about this without a running meta-commentary alongside and over the top of it to make the situation sufficiently regular, and comfortable and bearable, and safe for them to hide in, so that they can continue to believe in shit that doesn't exist while taking part in a serious conversation. Why bother being angry? Because if the world is ever going to change into a place where people take each other seriously, it has to come as a shock to the fantasists, who would rather close their eyes to the reality that life is temporary, that spirits do nothing but provide comforting illusions to people like women whose babies die for no reason.*
So here we go. I say that spirituality is a waste of time. Feel free to disagree, and we will talk it over. But there is no special treatment for family or anyone on this one. This goes beyond my irritation with christianity; I think it's a good opportunity to strike at the roots of willful ignorance.
*Now that I think about it, this kind of spirituality may have served an evolutionary purpose. A female who can use the tool of thinking her dead baby is in magic-land might have a better chance of trying again to reproduce. The truth is a little more bitter.
Sometimes I wonder how old a person has to be to comprehend that suicide is an option that might be the best one. Does a baby who dies of "crib death" just kind of give up? Is sudden infant death syndrome, and pediatric suicide, actually something else entirely that we call suicide for a lack of understanding? Couldn't be! People understand everything. Especially about babies.
I was asking this question to a co-worker yesterday, and was irritated by what happened next. The meta-commentary that saturates everything sucked it away; we were unable to have the conversation without his addressing the fact we were having it, which had the effect, as it always does, of making it dumb. "Man, that's a pretty cheerful thing to contemplate, Dale!" Growl.
The reason this came up was my being upset. I am gradually growing more annoyed by the fact that some people get to feel all happy when they think about god, and I don't. Why do they get to feel fuzzy and warm inside, and I have to know that that feeling is a euphoria that I bring on myself? It isn't fair. I could work myself up into speaking in tongues if I felt like it. I could go on a guided meditation (prayer) and give someone control of the way I feel, for the short-term payoff. It must feel really good when a preacher-man gets you feeling gooey about the lord. It's a bummer that there's no holy spirit. At least for me.
I had a conversation about "spirituality" earlier with Colleen, a friend who I haven't seen in months, over a coffee. Actually I had water, but whatever. Spirituality is what people talk about when they want to be cooler than religious people but want all the same benefits. Try telling them about it, though.
Me: If there's a soul, it deserves to be studied, looked at, learned about. Wouldn't you say? I mean, could there be anything more important to study? But every time you start asking serious questions about it, it turns out not to be anywhere at all! So what's the fixation?
Her: Well, actually, quantum theory sums it up quite nicely.
Me: How?
Her: Well, it's that when you look for it, it changes. Or something. I should get you some of those books to read.
Me:...
As I then learned from her, after the spiritual ones' arguments are beaten, they're just going to come back with some sopping tripe about love.
To which I replied: "Ok, two people love each other. Magical. Until they have to fight for food. We're no different from the rest of the animals." That kind of deconstruction is so easy, so correct, so irrefutable, and so absolutely ruining to the concept of spirituality overall, that I am bewildered that the world hasn't collectively awoken to the fact that spirituality and fifty cents will get you a cup of coffee. It won't do you or anybody else a damn bit of good, other than accomplish mental laziness, so that you can space out and think about how cozy hearts and bunnies make you feel inside. And big hugs! Awwwww...
Yes, I am angry. Angry at everyone who can't have a conversation about this on a purely realistic level, angry at everyone who can't have a conversation about this without a running meta-commentary alongside and over the top of it to make the situation sufficiently regular, and comfortable and bearable, and safe for them to hide in, so that they can continue to believe in shit that doesn't exist while taking part in a serious conversation. Why bother being angry? Because if the world is ever going to change into a place where people take each other seriously, it has to come as a shock to the fantasists, who would rather close their eyes to the reality that life is temporary, that spirits do nothing but provide comforting illusions to people like women whose babies die for no reason.*
So here we go. I say that spirituality is a waste of time. Feel free to disagree, and we will talk it over. But there is no special treatment for family or anyone on this one. This goes beyond my irritation with christianity; I think it's a good opportunity to strike at the roots of willful ignorance.
*Now that I think about it, this kind of spirituality may have served an evolutionary purpose. A female who can use the tool of thinking her dead baby is in magic-land might have a better chance of trying again to reproduce. The truth is a little more bitter.
Lion Mutilates 42 Midgets in Cambodian Ring-Fight
BBC NEWS | World | Lion Mutilates 42 Midgets in Cambodian Ring-Fightinteresting
Guardian Unlimited | The Guardian | Do you know this man? Mystery of the silent, talented piano player who lives for his musicI may have found my pianist.
one block from my school,
Priest Denies Gays' Supporters Communion
What's with the gays versus the church thing?
Priest Denies Gays' Supporters Communion
What's with the gays versus the church thing?
After "stomping over two women and socking a third" during a 2004 concert, gifted musician known as 50 cent, whose real name is probably something like Clarence Winthrop, has eluded a jail sentence for promising not to commit crime or partake in illegal substances.
Shit, I have to do that and I didn't even get to stomp women. If fifty cent needs help grooming his "image" to more closely resemble anything but what it is, a silly caricature of a black glam-gangster that only meth-lab wigger suburban white kids are too homoerotically tittilated not to see through, he should call me. I can show him what it's like where people work for a living. Mr. Cent wouldn't last a day in my world, where you have to be nice to people, be honest, and not hit any women, whether they need to get hit or not.
Oops. I stupidly read more of this stupid article and his name is Curtis, not Clarence. The article refers to him as "Fiddy", which is fucking moronic, and anyone who goes to a concert that exists only to glorify senseless violence shouldn't bitch when they receive some.
For all the aforementioned closet homosexual white kids who found this site by accident and want to suck Fiddy's G unit, please drop by his website, where you can beat off to pictures of him in the privacy of your parents' low budget clapboard house.
What, me hit a woman? Certainly you must be kidding, your honor!
Black Entertainment | Black News | Urban News
Shit, I have to do that and I didn't even get to stomp women. If fifty cent needs help grooming his "image" to more closely resemble anything but what it is, a silly caricature of a black glam-gangster that only meth-lab wigger suburban white kids are too homoerotically tittilated not to see through, he should call me. I can show him what it's like where people work for a living. Mr. Cent wouldn't last a day in my world, where you have to be nice to people, be honest, and not hit any women, whether they need to get hit or not.
Oops. I stupidly read more of this stupid article and his name is Curtis, not Clarence. The article refers to him as "Fiddy", which is fucking moronic, and anyone who goes to a concert that exists only to glorify senseless violence shouldn't bitch when they receive some.
For all the aforementioned closet homosexual white kids who found this site by accident and want to suck Fiddy's G unit, please drop by his website, where you can beat off to pictures of him in the privacy of your parents' low budget clapboard house.
What, me hit a woman? Certainly you must be kidding, your honor!
Black Entertainment | Black News | Urban News
Does anyone that easy to impersonate sort of deserve to be impersonated?
Robin Williams in a lawsuit with his impersonator - Softpedia News
Robin Williams in a lawsuit with his impersonator - Softpedia News
further proof that I am great
John Cleese is writing a comedy set in prehistoric times.Where have I seen that lately?
Oh yeah. Here on this blog yesterday.
I hope it's good.
Sunday
four tater tot poems
Tater tots are good to eatA tater tot’s a tasty treat
If you find yourself in need of fun
A tater tot’ll git ‘r done
Whenever you’re feeling blue
Or when you’re happy or just looking for something to do
Or when the telemarketers are calling you
Or if your name is Wasiu
Or you’re going to the zoo
(Or just thinking of going to the zoo
You can see the pandas eat bamboo)
A tater tot is right for you
The king of Tater tots sends his regards
His kights are tired, they’ve ridden hard
They wanted me to give you a card
But I ate them all and farted instead.
In tater land the tots are gathered
The ketchup man had scared them scattered
Around the fire they huddle close
To hear the tale of tater’s ghost
He comes in the night and steals the souls
Of tater tots who rock and roll.
A guy I work with was telling me about a guy who is a prisoner at Stateville penitentiary outside Joliet, Ill., where he's from. The guy's called "killer bone", and he is a guy who will tell you to your face "I'm going to rape you tonight" and then, true to his word, he will rape you. I didn't think there was any record of him on the net, so I thought I'd go ahead and make one. He's a bad person and he makes me want to drive the speed limit.
whee
Last night I went out with my friend John, who has a fast car. It thinks it has 17-inch wheels but it actually has 18-inch wheels. So when it registered 132 miles per hour down a long, straight, back highway in southern minnesota, it was actually going 139.7. That's pretty goddamned fast. At that speed the cars that I had seen up ahead of us in the distance suddenly appeared right in front of us, but other than that, 139 isn't too different from a hundred.Elko was closed for rain, so we hit some honky-tonks, and John tried to get us killed by playing Michael Jackson on the jukebox. It didn't work, but it was fun to try. Next time I'm wearing a singlet that says "Fuck the troops and the president". That will do the trick.
Today I'm working late. Congratulations to my family, who caught a fair percentage of the fish in the Atlantic last week. That's cool.
sad but true. a comic that illustrates how I feel about post-Jar-Jar.
Ctrl Alt Del - Tragically l337
Ctrl Alt Del - Tragically l337
your daily bling
I am speechless, much like the people who trust their teeth to dentists who would put these on.triplexgoldteeth.com- Spinning teeth page 1
Insane Shane McKane, a country singer.
I saw this show once and since then it's become a guilty pleasure. On the rare occasions when I watch TV, I check if this is on and if it is, I can't look away. Except for commercials. I mean, look at that guy. The ESPN host guy treats him like a god the entire time. He's half a buffalo wing away from a triple bypass, and he knows all about sports. The show is called "stump the schwab", and he's the Schwab.
Stump the Schwab on ESPN2 - Weekdays at 7:30pm
Stump the Schwab on ESPN2 - Weekdays at 7:30pm
sexy cheerleading segment, for those without the comedy channel, courtesy of the daily show.
COMEDY CENTRAL
/video
COMEDY CENTRAL
/video
Saturday
Here it is early in the morning again and I've got to go to work. I tell myself I'm going to start making breakfast and whatnot; you feel better after not only a cup of the vital, but a mess of eggs and toast. But I don't want to hop up and get cooking, I want to crawl out of bed and surf the internet with a steamin' hot pot of old faithful. Once an automatic breakfast cooking device is invented, life will be perfect. Maybe it's called a wife. Not mine, though. I'll be up before she is for nearly two years while I'm in watch school. Watch school's first term ended yesterday and some of us went out for drinks at Costello's, a high-class beer joint near the capitol, where I saw more than one lawyer with a cellular headset, and a woman sliding into a booth with a rock that looked like it belonged on Kobe Bryant's wife if he had been caught sleeping with her mother. Appetizers were had, beers were drank. One time they brought me a harp instead of a bass but I drank it anyway. I shouldn't have. Harp might be Irish and all, but it sucks compared to Bass.
I dreamt I wrote a screenplay called "caveman", though in the half-sleep of dawn I thought "cave" might be better, because wasn't Ringo Starr in a movie called caveman? Caveman is a movie that makes fun of modern life by showing cavemen going through what we are going through. But maybe we'd have to introduce some other elements having not so much to do with cavemen, if we wanted to get it right. Like a printing press, because to have a commentary on modern world and not include the media would be missing a lot. Also it needs a part about a blacksmith, which is historical hogwash, who makes pans for people to cook with, but a juicy defense contract presents itself, and he talks it over with his wife and friends. The government/army wants to kill the Neanderthals or something maybe, and they won't until they get the means, and the blacksmith is a pacifist, so we watch his progress into a money-hungry warhawk. Since abandoning historical strictures is a theme, late in the movie our new defense contractor could roll up in an SUV with flags all over it and honk at an old man pushing his wagon full of pans, pans not nearly as good as the ones they used to have, through the street. "Get out of the way!", and so on. There are many good headlines for the cave newspaper for comic relief, such as ""God" new answer to every question", and "Woman suddenly angry, nobody know why". Typical jokes there.
Am reading a book loaned to me by a friend, who said it was "a stick of intellectual dynamite" that would smash my mind. And it is all that and a bag of chips.
Read Mediated.
Before I was through with the introduction I knew it would take some serious doin' for this not to be the best book I read this half-year. That was a garbled thought and it means I should shower and get going. I hope you check out the short essay from last night, clusterfuck nation, and take advantage of a free frosty at wendy's over the weekend.
I got a nice compliment yesterday from the guy who writes the spoonbender, who said this is one of the few blogs he reads. So thanks.
If it isn't raining tonight, the usual: races at Elko speedway, so let me know if you want to attend. If it rains we'll just drink some cheap beer at some joint outside the city.
I dreamt I wrote a screenplay called "caveman", though in the half-sleep of dawn I thought "cave" might be better, because wasn't Ringo Starr in a movie called caveman? Caveman is a movie that makes fun of modern life by showing cavemen going through what we are going through. But maybe we'd have to introduce some other elements having not so much to do with cavemen, if we wanted to get it right. Like a printing press, because to have a commentary on modern world and not include the media would be missing a lot. Also it needs a part about a blacksmith, which is historical hogwash, who makes pans for people to cook with, but a juicy defense contract presents itself, and he talks it over with his wife and friends. The government/army wants to kill the Neanderthals or something maybe, and they won't until they get the means, and the blacksmith is a pacifist, so we watch his progress into a money-hungry warhawk. Since abandoning historical strictures is a theme, late in the movie our new defense contractor could roll up in an SUV with flags all over it and honk at an old man pushing his wagon full of pans, pans not nearly as good as the ones they used to have, through the street. "Get out of the way!", and so on. There are many good headlines for the cave newspaper for comic relief, such as ""God" new answer to every question", and "Woman suddenly angry, nobody know why". Typical jokes there.
Am reading a book loaned to me by a friend, who said it was "a stick of intellectual dynamite" that would smash my mind. And it is all that and a bag of chips.
Read Mediated.
Before I was through with the introduction I knew it would take some serious doin' for this not to be the best book I read this half-year. That was a garbled thought and it means I should shower and get going. I hope you check out the short essay from last night, clusterfuck nation, and take advantage of a free frosty at wendy's over the weekend.
I got a nice compliment yesterday from the guy who writes the spoonbender, who said this is one of the few blogs he reads. So thanks.
If it isn't raining tonight, the usual: races at Elko speedway, so let me know if you want to attend. If it rains we'll just drink some cheap beer at some joint outside the city.
Friday
everybody has religious feelings
Everybody but poor old me.Anti-U.S. fury spreads over report on Koran
So much to say, so little time to do it in.
I bought digitized copies of the first three stephen moore-read hitchhiker books from a guy I met knocking around on ebay. He's sending them to me along with the tapes of the first one, which is awesome. I paypalled him last night.
Also last night, bumsfeld burned me mp3s of life, the universe and everything, which is great. There were serious quality issues with the other two sets, which will hopefully be negated altogether when those mp3 cds show up from the ebay guy.
I have to go to wok today. Once the people in the financial aid office told me I don't get any more financial aid for the summer term (INFORMATION I COULD HAVE USED A LITTLE EARLIER!@%$*) it hit me that I have no chance of slacking off and calling in sick to party about school being out.
I got lucky on the sopranos pinball game last night and got most of the way to acting capo, with only 10 million points. That's got to be some kind of record.
School is out. Yee-haw. Now it's back to work at the damn pharmacy. While I was making pivot gauges this week all the men in my family (other than me, besides me, not me) went deep sea fishing. I hope they caught some big 'uns.
There is a hole in my left brown shoe. I didn't know about it until my foot became wet yesterday.
I bought digitized copies of the first three stephen moore-read hitchhiker books from a guy I met knocking around on ebay. He's sending them to me along with the tapes of the first one, which is awesome. I paypalled him last night.
Also last night, bumsfeld burned me mp3s of life, the universe and everything, which is great. There were serious quality issues with the other two sets, which will hopefully be negated altogether when those mp3 cds show up from the ebay guy.
I have to go to wok today. Once the people in the financial aid office told me I don't get any more financial aid for the summer term (INFORMATION I COULD HAVE USED A LITTLE EARLIER!@%$*) it hit me that I have no chance of slacking off and calling in sick to party about school being out.
I got lucky on the sopranos pinball game last night and got most of the way to acting capo, with only 10 million points. That's got to be some kind of record.
School is out. Yee-haw. Now it's back to work at the damn pharmacy. While I was making pivot gauges this week all the men in my family (other than me, besides me, not me) went deep sea fishing. I hope they caught some big 'uns.
There is a hole in my left brown shoe. I didn't know about it until my foot became wet yesterday.
Thursday
muddy
Winner of the Mark Hammill tragedy award!His hard drive ate shit and he lost 50 gigs of porn. My heart goes out to this man.
My logs contained this referral, which is somebody's list of favorite blogs. I'm on it with some pretty good company. I like that. There are many ways to find cool stuff you didn't know about, and this is one way I was unaware of until now.
blo.gs favorites for user #4535
blo.gs favorites for user #4535
irony?
"Should any political party attempt to abolish social security, unemployment insurance, and eliminate labor laws and farm programs, you would not hear of that party again in our political history. There is a tiny splinter group, of course, that believes you can do these things. Among them are [a] few other Texas oil millionaires, and an occasional politician or business man from other areas. Their number is negligible and they are stupid."- President Dwight D. Eisenhower, 11/8/54
from kos
Last night her loveliness and I went to the bar to have a drink with Noel, one of my writer friends.
Rudolph's made me a pretty good manhattan, though it is hard to screw up with maker's mark. I like when they serve it in the shaker, even when the shaker is just a pint glass.
This was after the three of us went to liquor lyle's and decided that that place is a complete shithole. Now that the smoking ban is on, you can smell that place, and it's sour and dreadful. Combine that for the surly servuce that made Lyle's famous, and I don't think I'll be back, ever, unless Julianne Moore is there naked giving away suitcases full of money. We went in, got scowled at by most of the employees, and did a U turn. I can't figure out if that used to be a good place or I just think it might have been. Any of your thoughts on this will be appreciated.
Rudolph's made me a pretty good manhattan, though it is hard to screw up with maker's mark. I like when they serve it in the shaker, even when the shaker is just a pint glass.
This was after the three of us went to liquor lyle's and decided that that place is a complete shithole. Now that the smoking ban is on, you can smell that place, and it's sour and dreadful. Combine that for the surly servuce that made Lyle's famous, and I don't think I'll be back, ever, unless Julianne Moore is there naked giving away suitcases full of money. We went in, got scowled at by most of the employees, and did a U turn. I can't figure out if that used to be a good place or I just think it might have been. Any of your thoughts on this will be appreciated.
Betty butterfield is back, along with her new site under that one in the lnik bar. Problem is, the PSAs are gone. I want the one about mobile homes catching on fire.
Wednesday
El Spoonbender points out this story, about some guys who flew an airplane over the white house by accident today. Dick Cheney and Laura Bush had to be evacuated to secret locations. The capitol building was also evacuated. Two guys in a cessna fly over the capital of the United States and everybody craps their pants. That is some sorry shit.
CNN.com - Intruding pilots released without charges - May 11, 2005
CNN.com - Intruding pilots released without charges - May 11, 2005
lots of videos
Watch the 'Dukes of Hazzard' trailer
BTbot - BitTorrent Search Engine
How to have your own TV show online, sort of:
Participatory Culture Foundation
What Color Eyes Would Your Children Have?
With the lovely JV, my children would have green eyes.
Watch the 'Dukes of Hazzard' trailer
BTbot - BitTorrent Search Engine
How to have your own TV show online, sort of:
Participatory Culture Foundation
What Color Eyes Would Your Children Have?
With the lovely JV, my children would have green eyes.
christian novelties
Behold! The miracle of the Fire Bible!!
Navigate around the page for more, though less spectacular, novelty items. Christian novelty items.
Funny that science, the enemy of religion, has been incorporated by religion for its own purposes. You never see science borrowing from religion, though, do you?
Props to Rania for the link.
whose pivot gauge? run's pivot gauge!
It looks like I passed, or will pass, or whatever, the final exam that's getting sent to WOSTEP in Neuchatel. My pivot gauge was good enough. The dimension on the pivot was 0.18 mm give or take .005 mm, and I wound up at 0.179, so that's well within the required range. There is damage to the surface finish of my pivot, but it's visible only under intense magnification, and I would describe it as the amount of damage done to a bronzed baby's shoe by the respiration of a fruit fly's ghost. So that's good. I'm spending the rest of my week in a contest with my benchmate to see who can do better on a less important test piece, to try to get my grade as high as I can for the semester. Basically, though, put a fork in this term, because it is done. Yeeow!The term, summarized:
Winding stems were a filthy whore. They were our introduction to micromechanical though, so our heartbreak was guaranteed. If I were making a stem for the first time, I'd want to use some normal steel, and once I got the hang of it, I'd switch over to sandvik's terribly expensive soft stuff. It cuts beautifully.
Pivot gauges weren't as bad, but the jacot tool kind of came out of left field. Getting the hang of that was fairly complicated. Keeping the burnisher going straight and not pushing too hard or fast was what I had to learn how to do. If anybody reading this wants to know something useful about bluing: when bluing the steel for the pivot gauge, cook it to purple and most of the way through blue. The hardness difference within the blue range is profound. If you get it right, which isn't that hard to do, you can cut it with plain old WS. Granted, it is sandvik.
So now it's back to school, and then next week my brother is moving here, then the bachelor party, and so on. I've got a feeling the next three weeks will pass in the blink of an eye.
that pastor quit
He went to start his own church, the first baptist church of totalitarianism down on the river road. Swing by and don't forget to bring your armband!newsobserver.com | Local & State
That gives me an idea. Best patriotic republican armband design wins something. I don't know what yet. I say beat them to it.
"I think we are welcome." - GW Bush
Boston.com / News / World / Insurgents kill 60 in spate of attacks across country
Boston.com / News / World / Insurgents kill 60 in spate of attacks across country
an outrage!
"the american society for the defense of tradition, family and property" reports that "six-year-old School Children Taught about Same-Sex "Families""Can you believe the irrepairable harm this is going to do to these children!? They should be learning that gay people are dirty and bad, that the life of a gay person is one of irresponsibility, and that god hates gays and will hate them too, if they turn out gay. Children should learn that there's a place where after you die you burn forever and scream in pain if you're a dude and another dude touches your wiener. God is pretty obsessed with what people do with their wieners. That lake of fire is where a guy named "satan" pokes you with a thousand hot sticks and you cry and cry but no one can hear you and it goes on pretty much forever. There is proof of this somewhere, but no one can find that proof right now. Come back later.
Some people know more about what god likes and doesn't like than others, and those people should be in charge of what everybody learns in school. That would be much better for families and america. These kids would be better of getting all whipped up into a righteous fury over the wrongness of gays! Groups of people getting whipped up into a righteous fury over the wrongness of gays is always a good thing. If you don't believe me, just ask nazi Germany. They'll tell you the same thing.
kladblog is pretty great.
Not safe for work.
why would anyone want to look at a bunch of naked women anyway?
Kladblog web-extracter
Not safe for work.
why would anyone want to look at a bunch of naked women anyway?
Kladblog web-extracter
Tuesday
I before E except after C
Or when sounded like A
As in neighbor and weigh
And except seize and seizure
And also leisure
Weird, height, and either,
Forfeit, and neither.
Things which, in addition to fifty cents, will get you a cup of coffee
a sociology degree
a winning attitude
faith in god
love
happiness
enthusiasm
Or when sounded like A
As in neighbor and weigh
And except seize and seizure
And also leisure
Weird, height, and either,
Forfeit, and neither.
Things which, in addition to fifty cents, will get you a cup of coffee
a sociology degree
a winning attitude
faith in god
love
happiness
enthusiasm
BushFish.org: Supporting God and Country
Do you believe God belongs in government?Do you believe President Bush is doing The Lord's Work?
If so, then show your love for God & the USA!
BushFish.org: Supporting God and Country
britney
I saw the following headline: Britney likes eating for twoand wondered about celebrity. Why is it that some people are famous? I think it's that who is famous is a direct consequence of "the marketplace", a concept so nebulous that Minsky would yell at me for rewording "emergent". So we obviously have needs for these people. Their paths to and from stardom reflect the hopes and desires of the group. But the special people couldn't exist without the journalists themselves creating stories that the everyday people like, or without the massive multi-national media corporations having to compensate their cost of chopping down trees, slathering the paper with bight colors, and paying the guys who take pictures of the special people on vacation.
I believe every society has to have its celebrities, the cult of personality not only being a hit pop song in much the same way denial isn't just a river in Egypt. People have always had their leaders and heroes, and their village idiots and drunks and so on. These people were famous where they were, and the massive distribution of the same information has given us a global level of celebrity. I know the same person is famous that some guy in rural china knows is famous. That's pretty wild. Our need to have things to relate to other people about, specifically other people to talk to other people about, gives us a glimpse into what makes us the way we are with respect to other people. We use these stories and examples of famous people to know what gets you good and bad publicity, and I think it keeps everybody more or less acting in a manner that steers them right down the middle of the road. People, in other words, use celebrities to socially flock.
Another thing about celebrites, sort of:
If you are in the year 1000, in a town of a certain size, your town has developed certain roles for people. There's going to be a lot of wives, maybe the largest single group of people, a bunch of children, then there's a couple police-types, some soldiers, a bar owner, some chicken farmers, a blacksmith, and a tax collector. These types of roles emerged to fit the needs of the group.
These days, because our society is mind-bogglingly enormous, we have specialized to an extent that is absurd. For every thousand people, there are a bunch of wives and tax collectors, like always, but there is also a dentist now. Maybe one in every ten thousand people is an anesthesiologist, every one in a hundred thousand is a rock star, one every six thousand people is an inventor, and one in every four hundred is a computer programmer. I say maybe because those numbers are definitely wrong but I don't know where to get good ones. Because we can imagine statistics shedding some light on this accidental societal arrangement, it's possible to imagine the rock star as having "emerged" to fit into a position that may not have existed per se, but was in some way vacant. This is a weakness of my brain, and maybe of yours, when trying to comprehend emergence. A thought I've found myself gravitating to as it pertains to this is, if the society grows twice as big as it is now, what other specialties would emerge? But I think now that I've spent the time at the keyboard thinking about it, that it would all be basically the same. We would still have our wives, our children, our advertising executives, our evil CEOs, our crazy politicians, and of course our rock stars and celebrities, and we'd also have people that fit into technologies that didn't exist before; there was a time when lunch-meat processors couldn't exist.
Celebrity, I think, is a phenomenon that scales well to populations; no matter where or when you go in human history, you're going to have them. They may appear to be famous for fame's sake, but they're fulfilling a very special purpose. They're not only selling newspapers, they're also letting people know what and what not to do.
The human nose can sniff out a suitable sexual partner, working especially well for gay men, according to the first study of how body odours are linked with sexual orientation.
Having a drop of whiskey can help reduce the risk of cancer according to the latest report on the health benefits of moderate alcohol consumption.
Monday
This is an impressive flash site dedicated to the holocaust. Too bad the thing's in german.
Holocaust Mahnmal - Ged�chtnis aus Stein
Holocaust Mahnmal - Ged�chtnis aus Stein
stolen from mcsweeney's
Dear Mr. President,
You can be walking down the street and suddenly bump your head into someone else's thought. Sex thoughts are the biggest. They come in the shape of toast, or falling leaves.
I used to skip along on a beautiful song called dirt. Once some big boys beat me up and kicked the song in my face.
Our tree house was the closest point to the moon.
Sincerely,
Eric Morgan
Dear Mr. President,
I feel rather betrayed about the whole weapons of mass destruction thing. I think you owe your constituents an apology. You portrayed the situation as an "imminent threat," but clearly it was not. In hindsight I feel foolish for defending you when the war began. By doing so, my reputation has been criticized.
At least make an attempt at legitimizing the whole ordeal to the public.
Sincerely,
Kevin Andrews
Sunday
I'm not doing this but if you want to maybe that would be fun.
Help with Annoyances Revenge Collection
Help with Annoyances Revenge Collection
wtf?
WAYNESVILLE, N.C. -- The minister of a Haywood County Baptist church is telling members of his congregation that if they're Democrats, they either need to find another place of worship or support President Bush.newsobserver.com | NC News Wire
more from kos
Should I buy this?
eBay item 3973292111 (Ends May-10-05 15:17:05 PDT) - AL GORE PRESIDENT 1988 Wrist Watch New in BOX
eBay item 3973292111 (Ends May-10-05 15:17:05 PDT) - AL GORE PRESIDENT 1988 Wrist Watch New in BOX
surf bad sites at work
SneakySurf.com - Be Free to Surf the Web - Bypass Firewalls at Work and School
SneakySurf.com - Be Free to Surf the Web - Bypass Firewalls at Work and School
topless woman dancing, wearing headphones
video
fully go-go-esque. I approve of go-go.
not safe for work
video
fully go-go-esque. I approve of go-go.
not safe for work
from yahoo,
photo of the sombrero galaxy, taken by hubble
gimme mardi gras beads, people having fun at the KY derby
NYT:
U.S. to Spend Billions More to Alter Security Systems
photo of the sombrero galaxy, taken by hubble
gimme mardi gras beads, people having fun at the KY derby
NYT:
U.S. to Spend Billions More to Alter Security Systems
Saturday
Right now, my apartment is under siege by the lovely forces of my fiancee. She is moving in, so if you're around, go and give her a hand. And stay away from my beer!
My bachelor party is set for May 28, so mark that day in your calendar, and if you don't have a calendar, go buy one. Maybe try the one with the fast cars that you will never ever afford, or one with the hot women you will never ever sleep with. That'll get you nice and bummed out, and by the time the 28th rolls around, it hopefully won't take much to get you in a good mood.
We'll be in Elko MN at about six thirty and take it from there. For arrangements, gmail me and I'll direct you from there. I'll probably be forwarding you to the illustrious mister N, who is kind of stranded in Twin Peaks right about now. Speaking of which, do you need a rescue mission or what, dude?
My bachelor party is set for May 28, so mark that day in your calendar, and if you don't have a calendar, go buy one. Maybe try the one with the fast cars that you will never ever afford, or one with the hot women you will never ever sleep with. That'll get you nice and bummed out, and by the time the 28th rolls around, it hopefully won't take much to get you in a good mood.
We'll be in Elko MN at about six thirty and take it from there. For arrangements, gmail me and I'll direct you from there. I'll probably be forwarding you to the illustrious mister N, who is kind of stranded in Twin Peaks right about now. Speaking of which, do you need a rescue mission or what, dude?
i like lifehacker
Safari's private (porn) browsing modeFind torrents with Torrent Typhoon
And check this out, with firefox, clicking a link with the wheel automatically opens it in a new tab. No more right clicking and context-menu-dinking-around with.
"Dear Mr. President, What happened to the 'Mission Accomplished' banner? Can I have it? Sincerely,Ali"
Timothy McSweeney's Internet Tendency: Dear Mr. President Letters
I found this very hard to stop reading.
Timothy McSweeney's Internet Tendency: Dear Mr. President Letters
I found this very hard to stop reading.
This is the probably the best editorial I will read today.
Herald.com | 05/07/2005 | Enough's enough on that bride
Herald.com | 05/07/2005 | Enough's enough on that bride
In time, everyone will have naked photos of them accesible via the internet. For now, it's mainly girls with bitter exes.
FormerGirlfriends.com - Former Girlfriends - Show the world what you had!
not safe for work
FormerGirlfriends.com - Former Girlfriends - Show the world what you had!
not safe for work
Friday
elko
If you want to go to the races tomorrow, gmail me at daleshipley@gmail.com and we can arrange travel plans.my mean letter to a stranger
subject: a question for Mr. Brightside
Dear sir(s) at friend mafia,
Your weblog is an egregious effrontery to all sentient beings, living and dead. What you lack in taste cannot be repaid to those unfortunate enough to have found it, so I recommend you all kill yourselves immediately, and pray that history will manage to forget the awful crimes against taste which you, by appearances, haven't the decency to feel shame for.
Your weblog is so bad that if waved a juicy bacon cheeseburger in front of the hungriest prisoner in a North Korean concentration camp and offered to give it to them if they could think of anything worse than your weblog, I still would be holding that bacon cheeseburger an hour later.
I once thought I saw your weblog on the side of the road and swerved to hit it with my car, but realized at the last minute that it was just a fat, stupid bum covered in dog shit holding a sign which read, in large, red lettering, "I SUCK".
That being said, I have a question for Mr. Brightside.
How much dick would a woodchuck suck if a woodchuck could suck dick?
Toodles,
Dale
http://doublefleea.blogspot.com
Now, we'll see what happens. My guess is that the person reading this will click over here to see what the hell that was all about, and seeing that it was in jest, call me a loser and wash his hands of me. That, or since I have predicted that this was likely, come up with something else, which he wouldn't have had to do if I hadn't just made that prediction about him. A third possibility is that I will be ignored, not just artificially ignored because of the annoyingly kaleidoscopic recursions that are born out of this strange state of affairs, but genuinely ignored. Unfortunately there will be no way to ascertain the nature of the being ignored that is occurring at any time, and so the mystery will remain; we will wonder forever what could have been had I had a second way of letting you all know about this childish pestering but not let him know. Boy oh boy, there's really no telling what's going to happen now, unless he calls me a loser, in which case I will definitely say "See, I told you so."
bowling green sewing machine
retina barbecue
- learn something
- popurls
- 0tv.com
- betty butterfield
- new betty
- concrete tv
- dale's mails
- exile
- fairlane
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- pretty pictures videos
- something awful
- spoonbender
- sutton impact studio
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- today's front pages
- upenn online library
- watch links
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- ween
- the current
- wfmu
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eustachian justice league
many moons
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