chaotic moments

Ever take a broad view look at human sports and see how chaotic their creation has seemingly been. Why do they tend to be ideally suited for the fringes of the species? The average basketball bling bling whiner is a foot and a half taller than the average fan. The average foolsball player is 100 lbs heavier than an average fan and we're a country of soft obese people. What's the purpose of neckless highbrow giants whomping each other to move an ellipical inflated pigskin covered ball down a 100 yard flat plastic carpeted field? How about bowling. Who had the time to randomly come up with an activity centered around a hard plastic ball being tossed down a hardwood lane to knock down 10 wooden pins shaped like belly dancers? And who devised the scoring, a frustrated high school math teacher? What's with soccer and the rule not allowing the use of hands and arms. Was the first game between armless tribesmen in northern Europe. Some sports just plain make sense like running, swimming, and jumping. Evolutionary survival required and some inner cities and bog hollows still require these skills. But tennis, golf, badmitten, volleyball, speed walking, racketball, cricket and of course America's favorite past time have no connection to survival what so ever. Where in nature does one need the split second reaction to hit a little white ball that another idiot just hurdled at you at 90 mph 60 feet away. And what explains the viewer obsession. A tiny fraction of the 6 billion humanoids ever play these games yet some create revenue exceeding the GNP of 95% of the world's countries. What value to the advancement to mankind does these activities create? Do owners, players and fans go to their graves feeling fulfilled having participated in a no value added activity for, in many cases, most of their lives.

I propose a sport that's ideally suited for middle aged, balding fat people with a two beer IQ. Damn, it's already been done - Nascar.

A Christmas Story

How did we go from mirth, frankincense, and a little gold to a family room of guttony built from at least 3 months of multiple state shopping binges.

Darrell goes hunting

The game of hunting is upon us. Let's take a look at the team rosters.

On the high brow side we have Darrell and his best friend Darrell. The weekend wonderkins are packing semi-automatic AK-47'S with 30 round clips with the anti-jam option. A high powered, variable focus 3x-20x scope mounted to each. One never knows if the widow in the neighboring trailer might be taking a shower. Three weekends at the local range has these annihilaters tuned in for 300 yard kill shots compensated for a 3 beer buzz. Camo blaze orange from toe to bonnet. Camoflauged orange, WTF, that works. Doe piss for activating the buck pheromones. It reportedly has the same effect on middle aged hairy men libidos. Just in case, everyone is packing a 10 day supply of the little blue pills tucked safely in the soft leather belt pouch. A 10" stainless hardened steel buck stabber with a seratted edge for ripping warm bellies is neatly strapped to the right calf - true Rambo style. Anti-human smell potion freshly misted on. Ya right, if that stuff really worked every wife and girlfriend in America would be stocking a case of this mystery elixir. Two-way, crackling walkie talkies are fired up for reliving the blonde jokes. Battery powered thermal underwear with the undersized weiner flap is zipped up tight. Military grade GPS locators and a 5 dollar compass for the direction challenged are part of the arsenal. NASA reflective body wrap for a night in the woods is tucked away next to the little blue pills. Ya right, these boys won't get anymore than a 100 yards from the camp and the beer cooler. For the real rough necks with the ape hair backs a tree stand with a portable HDTV plasma flat screen with a Direct TV hookup awaits.

On the game side we have a wise old buck who knows that it's time to take a two week hike to the deep woods. Any distance more than a quarter mile from the road and camp will be all the protection needed for this annual Darrell fest.

basketbrawl, bring it on

I believe my ideas are starting to catch on in pro sports. A major brawl took place at an inconsequential NBA game yesterday. Inconsequential because who really cares about mutated giant humanoid tattoed freaks running up and down a hardwood court lobing a beach ball into a netted hoop. Remember this is mutation entertainment with the same viewer appeal as web porn surfing. But this incident has my attention for a fleeting moment. There apparently was some real fist-in-your-face fan-player interaction. A few liquid ladened cups thrown onto the court followed by a few players charging into the stands. Now that is getting the crowd into the game. I think they maybe onto something here. Why not make the game interactive between the players on the court and the fans in the stands other than the usual verbal abuse going each way. Hearing "I'm doing your grandmomma" gets a bit boring after awhile. Besides everyone's done your grandmomma and she ain't that good. Certainly would increase viewer appeal. I might even tune in for a few minutes. Why should the physical part of the GAME be limited to the human mutations and a trip or two to the urinal in the men's room. Get everyone into the game. Bring it on.

Of course, the usually OMG's from the league officials, owners and new born evangelists. "This will ruin the game." "This can't be tolerated." "Evict the barbarians." "Throw the hoodlums into the Bubba bin." "Check testosterone levels at the gate." "10 beer limit." Idiots crying in public but snickering at the board meetings.

I gotta go git me a beer. I need to throw somethng.

another foolsball incident

ABC must have read my previous blog on the idea of juicing up the aura around foolsball. Apparently before the Monday night game they aired a clip promoting their new show, Desparate Housewives, by showing a naked babe jumpimg into the arms of a player. Of course, to the chagrin of every hot blooded male in America, doped up on Levitra the babe was only shown from the waist up and from the rear. But the new minority morality quickly showed their new found mandate. ABC got the calls for indecency and of course our choir boy FCC head has gone on record as being "disappointed" for the lack of judgement by ABC. Interestingly, he hasn't said anything about the show this clip was promoting. But get this, one of the coaches spewed a couple of brain burps. First, he found the clip racially offensive. WTF. A white, blond babe seductively jumping into the arms of a black athlete. Wow, that's got a multitude of stereotypes working for it. I wonder which one pulled his ultra sensitive hair trigger insult meter. Shouldn't the blondes be speaking up. How about Caucasian, Hispanic and other race athletes - seems like they've all been slighted. Second, he was aghast that a foolsball player was being portrayed as someone who might, for an instant, think of something other than the GAME. WAAAAAAP. WAAAAAAP. That was a double reality check biatch slap. Butt boys, let me repeat myself. IT'S ONLY A GAME. YOU'RE ENTERTAINMENT. NOTHING MORE AND MANY TIMES LESS. IT'S EITHER WATCHING YOU BEAT EACH OTHER'S ASSES SILLY OR VISITING A WWW PORN SITE. FACE REALTY. The reaction is perpetuating a stereotype that crosses gender, babe hair color, genitalia size and racial boundaries. Just more evidence that juiced up jocks and dense synapse connections don't cohabitate.

Two things for sure. I'll be watching the next Monday Night pregame show and tuning in for Desparate Housewives. Of course, only after I gitta cold beer.

smackdown football - now we're excited

This past weekend 2 players from opposing rust belt pro teams got into it during pregame warmups. Resulted in both being suspended from the game before it even started and fined 10 grand. Like 10 grand means anything to the bling bling boys. I don't get it. These guys ought to get a bonus check and a night with the chearleader of their wife's choice. The irony in this over reaction is multi-fold. First, within a 1/2 hour of the "incident" 22 members of these same teams were brawling on the field each trying to move an inflated pigskin into one of two happy zones, all while inflicting permanent brain damage, torn cartlidge, blown out knees, miles of abraded skin, and 100's of deep tissue contusions onto each other without a hint of remorse, except possibly the rat deal their agent got for them. All in front of millions of sh*tfaced, blood smelling fans hung over from the tailgate fest. Of course, the key tactical element of each play is designed to knock each other silly so the network can run a 2 minute beer ad. The helmets, pads and pain killing syringes are not just for show - they need this shit and then some. The winner is usually the team with lowest injury count. BTW the actual winner, is the one that makes the most bucks for the owner over the course of the season.

Second, the league brass needs to be reminded that this game and everything surrounding it is simply entertainment. Let me repeat for the brain damaged with questionable comprehension - it's only ENTERTAINMENT. World karma is not remotely at stake. Human survival is not being prolonged. We won't be out of Iraq any sooner. North Korea will still have nukes. The betterment of mankind is not being enhanced. No more kids in Sudan are being fed. We're still one viral mutation away from extinction. Watching a 3 hour football game is NO different than watching 2 hours of Laurel and Hardy reruns except that it will lighten your wallet a hellva lot faster and may get you beat up if you're wearing the wrong jersey or wave cheer out of synch. Another hint for the brass: Take a lesson from smackdown wrestling - add some drama to the pre and post games. Let these doped up human, neckless giants with wired up knees and more testosterone than brain matter get it on before and after the "game". That's what the fans want. This isn't Indian/Pakistani cricket with tea and scoons at intermission. This is American football where it's expected that the big boys maim each other. Why else would anyone pay $250 for a ticket and $20 beers in the ozone layer seats.

Here's a hint: there was more press time and talk radio banter on the pregame "incident" than on the actual game. Figured it out yet.

Time to go. Smackdown is starting. Gotta git my beer.

nevolutionists

The November '04 issue of National Geographic cites some interesting statistics based on Gallup polling regarding American views on the theory of evolution. "no less than 45% believe "God" created humans in their present form within the last 10,000 years and evolution played no role whatsoever". Only 12% believe humans evolved from other life-forms without intervention from God. The article goes on to summarize all the evidence that supports the evolutionary theory. It however, does leave the door open for a divine start of the process which many scientists and even many theologians also believe. Contrarily some theologians believe all 8,000,000+ species were planted on earth at time zero. I suppose their explanation for all the fossil finds dating back millions of years is voodoo science conspiracy. As further pointed out in the article the survey results haven't changed in the last 20 years with strict creationism being soley believed by at least 44% in each poll.

What's interesting and disturbing about these stats is the sheer arrogance it portrays about the human species and our profound lack of security in our existence. Apparently our brains have "evolved" to where we have too much time to think about why we are actually here. And because we are able ask the question we must therefore need a reason that sets us apart from the "other 8,400,000 species." Apparently for most, the reason lies with the writings of a few other humans a couple thousand years ago.

Will our arrogance be the basis of our survival for the next 10,000 years or even 10 years. Or the basis of our extinction.

Here's a scary thought: we are only one viral or bacterial mutation away from extinction. Whoops. That's Darwinism and evolution in its most simple form!

some choice

In a few daya I'll be in the booth with choices to make. I've read the endorsments, watched the debates, laughed at the cartoons and John Stewart, read the political blogs, snoozed in front of endless FOX, CNN, MSNBC, ABC, NBC, CBS, C-Span ............. analyses. Live in a swing state. Had countless "vote for my guy" phone calls.

The choice comes down to:

- someone who claims a broadband link to his god
- has unwavering convictions with no gray fringes
- selected a cabinet and advisors that view the world from a 60's vantage point
- took us to a war where the very reasons have been proven unfounded and yet continues to justify the error in the face of continuing deaths and injuries to both sides - go back to point one, which god does he talk to?
- alienated most of our friends and neighbors
- spends like a Massachusetts liberal without a hint of fiscal responsibility
- pretty much anti-human choice except for the unborn?

or

- someone who will promise anything to everyone for a vote
- wavering convictions
- carried by a gigantic political sail
- has as much gray thinking as explanations for position changes

It boils down to a right wing fanatic with left wing spending habits versus a left wing moderate wannabe.

Is this the best our political system can offer us. Some choice!!

them and us, you and me

Them and us, you and me, him and her, mind and yours, WTF. Has the golden rule become the tarnished exception. Where's the tolerance for difference. Don't you idiots realize that if we were all the same, doing the same shit that it would be boredom to the extremes. Don't you social neanderthals understand that the fringes create change and drive progress. Lighten up and embrace difference. Be different. Is your humanhood so lacking that your self value is dependent on ridiculing another. Are you so uptight with self doubt that demeaning another is your self validation. Is your self worth so meaningless that enrichment must come from the expense of others. Can you not comprehend that humanoids, you, need social acceptance. It's key to survival. How is alienation from fellow uprights creating acceptance. Seek peace and zen my friends for the world is a lonely place alone.

I know I'm better than most of you drolls but I'm not going to ridicule the idiots.

sports performance enhancements - WTF

I'm very confused. BTW, some would not be shocked by this admission. Anyhow, it's not clear to me why the line for banned sports performance enhancements has been drawn at the use of synthetics. The high profile cases we hear about are the doping charges by the various athletic governing bodies on some of their enhanced athletes caught by drug testing. But it seems to me that there's major inconsistency in what is being defined as artificial enhancement. Steroid use is currently a no - no for bulking up, but weight lifing and protein gorging is ok. In fact, the use of any of the high tech workout machines is encouraged. But is it natural to work the body on an electric powered stair master with every bodily function being monitored to millisecond percision by some digital computer gizmo. Oh, and guzzling a 9 egg white party mix is something everybody does for breakfast. EPO and blood doping are frowned on, but altitude training is encouraged. Same end result. WTF. Most event day stimulants are banned including the minute amounts found in over the counter niffle stoppers but downing a gallon of your favorite jo is right on. How about other unnatural enhancements like super glove stick for catching a wet football - that's real natural. How about body shaving for slipping through the water a little quicker - yup all that body fuzz is darn right unnatural and even more natural is the new shark skin swimwear. Carbohydrate loading before an endurance event - ok, all humanoids are guttons and willingly gorge on pizza when given a chance. So why are certain enhancers banned and others encouraged. Damn upright logic has no logic. We always find a way to do everything halfass. (Must be the same logic that says wacky weed is off limits but willingly subsidizes and promotes a product that kills 10's of thousands of addicts a year by a broad leaf plant called tobbaco.) BTW, it's just a matter of time before the self appointed regulators have to deal with genome tampering and custom mutations. Gotta believe it's already happening. Animal breeders have been doing this for generations. This will spin some heads into a deep regulation fog. Testosterone enhancement will seem like child's play.

For some reason my enhancement of choice, cold dark beer sipped in the comfort of my soft sofa, never got me to world class status.

nip, tuck, snip, slice, fold, hide, pare

The recent cultural trend of cosmetic rejuvenation has been bantered about in the press, around the water cooler and between beers. I personally find myself on the side of the more the better. Here's my simple logic. Ugliness needs to be purged. Why discourage improvement for the human eyesores. The world is ugly enough without all the scary uprights making it worse. And if self control loses to guttony and subsequent rotundness then let the liposuction technology clean the mess up. If inbreeding played a cruel joke on Darrell's sister then let technology fix it and save them from the glaring and mutant jokes. If Auntie Claudette tobacco induced winkles wins first prize at the Chinese chow show then tighten them up. If Uncle Matt's butt droops worse than Aunt Millie's boops then give both a lift. We need to keep the beautiful in "America the Beautiful". Sag and droop needs to be banished. If we could only find a scapel that could fix ugly personalities.

Pass the mirror I need to look at my wonderfulness.

move it, lard a**

Since when did pulling up a few dandelions equate to aerobic conditioning. When did a stroll to the mailbox pump the heart up. How is it that vacuuming the laundry room creates cardiovasular improvement. Heck most folks achieve higher cardio excitation thinking about sex. BTW, I bet there's a correlation between the girth size of these slime slugs and their propensity to define a workout as any activity that keeps them away from the grocery bag. I hate to be the bearer of bad news to these inactive trolls, but there is no easy fix. Real exercise takes effort and unfortunately if ya ain't sweating buckets of pore goo ya ain't working out. And for you naysayers with the bucket of medicinal oral pop products, real exercise might just cure most, if not, all of your flab induced afflictions. Do ya think a marathoner has regular constipation and a need for one of the myriad of bowel regulators. Do ya think a real power walker takes a breather half way up a flight of stairs. Do ya think the aerobics instructor needs acid reflex blaster. Speaking of instructors when did this fad of personal fitness trainers transcend to our easy fix culture. The weak minded have lowered the bar another notch for inadequate self responsibilty. They pay some muscle bound neanderthal to shout expletives in their face to induce them to move their lard butts. OMG. What's next, surrogate trainers. Yup, that'll keep the adipose disposed from cardiovasular disease and in tip top shape for the dessert tray.

I need a breather. I've gone anaerobic from all this key stroking.

STOP EATING SO DAMN MUCH!!

I got a diet plan that will work for anyone, everyone and even for all you fatties and there's an added bonus - it's free. It's simple and will actually save you money, especially for the double wides where major bucks can be had. There's no snake oil, no magic pills, no special herbs, no portion weighing, no books, and just plain no excuses. Here it is: STOP EATING SO DAMN MUCH!! I can't believe how much American culture has evolved around weak minded obese people and their meekly desire to have waist lines smaller than their inseams. And worse yet how many millions have been made off weak minded flabby uprights that owe it to themselves to try every fat fad that these modern day snake oilmen pander. Well people, if you keep shoveling excessive groceries into your mouth, quess what. The flab will keep on growing and rolling. It's really a simple relationship. The more you consume the more sweat creases you can proudly show off at the beach - thank Speedo for tight one piecers. The less you consume and the more you burn, the smaller the jelly pods become. There's no magic, no slight of hand, just plain caloric equilibrium. Ok, some folks claim a slow metabolism. And I say, so what. Good for you. Enjoy it and live a long and healthly life. But the caloric relationship still holds. You fortunately just need less stuffed into your mouth to survive. BTW, I do believe some chubbos do have slower metabolisms, but not because of a genetic difference or inbreeding. They are couch slobs. Very simple, no movement no reason for the bod to burn those twinkie rich calories. Same logic with the big boned pondits. Ya right, everybody has big bones. Again, live strong but you can't fool caloric balance. Ever been to an Asian country. Well you won't find any fat people in China, Thailand or Vietnam. Reason, they work their butts off. Many use 100 lb road pedal cruisers to get about, i.e., they work to move their ass. They also eat anything and everything that breathes or spouts and waste nothing. I mean nothing. No garbage for these folks. If it dangles off a mangy dog then it's good for some human nourishment. Ever been to Europe. Not many wide loads across the pond. The descendants of our founding fathers still walk to work, serve human sized portions and don't have an obsession with fries with that please. When we have a society accepting stomach stapling as a remedy for weak mindedness we've crossed the line in personal self control and responsibility. Think about this. What does punching pop rivets into your new pigmy sized food bag really do. Well it tells your food trap that you shouldn't eat anymore. Didn't I just say that eating less causes less fat to be plopped onto your double wide ax handle hips. Why does it take major surgery to accomplish the same thing as common sense but drive up overall medical costs for the few remaining leanies. It gets worse. My guess is that tubby tonto with the megabuck stainless lined micro gut still finds a way to keep krispie cremes in the food trough to maintain that attractive double pudgy profile. You know the one that you always find yourself seated next to on the 2 hour commuter flight to Chicago. Come on people get a backbone, get some real exercise and leave the onion and cream chips in the bag.

Could you extra size that for me, I'm famished.

CSI: Muskogee

CSI:Crime Scene Investigation, CSI:NY, CSI:Miami, NCIS, CSI:Hawaii, Without a Trace, Cold Case, Medical Investigation .......... WTF. Are upright couch slunchers this brain drained to be perpetually entertained by the same plot and robotic actors. Don't these programmers understand saturation - you know, that concept of too much, too the same, too boring, and just too damn annoying. Humanoid murder only has 23 permutations and Alfred Hitchock had those all figured out and televised a few TV generations ago. It's not a perflexing mystery why cable networks are getting ever more viewership. With Law and Order clones, surreality TV, CSI:Everywhere and of course the gazillion TV news magazine dribs also focused on reality murder there's no time left to broadcast anything good like smackdown wrestling. We need some imagination by drunken hairy men. How about CSI:Jessica Simpson with a focus on finding out why blondes who act stupid get rich off of drunken hairy men. Or maybe 60 Minutes:Drunken Hairy Men on rampage over low carb beer.

Pass the remote I think CSI:Muskogee is on and the previews suggested a drunken hairy man has a suspicous demise.

where's my feminine products

What's with all the feminine products being plastered all over the plasma screen during prime time in front of innocent children and me. Every commercial not peddling feel good drugs or Kerry and Bush verbally pussy whipping each other with half truths is peddaling a feminine enhancer. Which BTW is a goal we should wholeheartly embrace. The last time I took a wide screen viewing sample suggested that half the viewing public is still XY'ers with decidely higher proportions on weekend afternoons. So half the public doesn't want to know about the 17 available styles and sizes for na-na land pads and plugs with a potpourri of scents and the 6 different absorbancy ratings. Warning!! Do not drop a carton of these gully washer terminators in Lake Ontario, it could be the end of a major mid-Atlantic water wonderland. Other mother nature enhancers being pushed include fragances, lubricants, whiteners, conditioners, cleansers, straighteners, fillers, liners, glosses, waxes, brushes, bloat busters, wrinkle fanisher, hair pluckers, boob builders, butt hide, cellulite camo, face spackle, body puddy ...... Any respectable XY'er with any hint of manhood can find all these male equivalents at any AutoZone or TruValue including the appropriate tools. A rather odd thing about these adverts is that products for rectum swellings, crotch stink, anal psoriasis and bladder leakage are targeted for the feminine half of the species. I beg to differ but these are without debate, fat old hairy men afflictions and we demand our fair share of the curatives.

Pass the scratch creme my swellings have been acting up since my big slurpee and 4 corndog lunch.

unreal reality TV

Reality TV. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT. Realty TV with a star wannabee called the Donald with a combover that could cover the lower half of Central Park and an ego larger than the other half. Reality TV with Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie slopping swine dung. The closest these two undernourished barbie dolls get to real farming is the salted home fries they munch on at the chic downtime LA "I'm trying to be a celebrity" clubs. Survivor number whatever held in Jeff Probst's backyard. Do you think Mark Barnett would actually use a true cross section of the American population to backstab and show more skin than Hilton in her xxx-web movie on their way to a million bucks. He maybe a barnyard leach but he ain't stupid. Do ya think the Orange County chopper dudes saw gold in them there hills by playing on us idiots by being all testosterone od'ed. These guys even got a gig with AOL - idiots and the web, now there's some reality. I have no idea who's marrying who on TV these days but I thought the soaps played during the hours between Montel and Oprah. Anyone remember any of the winners and also rans of the Simon star search series, except of course William Hung who everyone knew was a "star to be" behind those awesome pearly whites. Then there's the whole makeover thing - wives, boyfriends, houses, rooms, hetero's being groomed by gays, whatever. I wanna see some real boring reality with real boring people just like us.

I'm available for auditions anytime before Montel and after Oprah.

true cold box innovation

Where's the innovation in that old trustly kitchen appliance fondly called the frig. We've seen hi-tech ice dispensers. We seen electronic sensors and smart thermostats. We've seen stainless steel interiors and exteriors. We've seen matching cabinetry doors. We've seen magnetic latches. We've seen magic and mystifying defrosters. We've seen erroneous claims of 100+% efficient compressors. Some will even have a conversation with you and tell you when you need to replace the 15 day old curdled milk. All well and good but quite frankly these are all frivilous window dressings that only tempt the weak minded to replace old faithful. What would be true innovation and provide real value to us homo sapien uprights is a "top shelf only" cold box. That's right a beer and luncheon meat chiller with only one shelf - the top shelf. You know that eye level convenient resting spot for all those goodies that need chilling before grilling or swilling. I can't believe that the world has waited for me, Captain Oblivious, to point out to the appliance manufacturing giants of the world that any shelf other than the top shelf is totally useless and employed only under death threatening and agonizing duress. If an upright humanoid has to flex its arthritic knees and calcium deficient vertebrate to view the inventory below the top shelf then odds are that the stash of mold infested chinese take out and last month's burrito leftovers with 3rd degree freezer burned refries will remain in their deserved resting spots until the house burns down or a pigmy family moves in. The solution is right in front of us. Design an 8-10 foot wide temperature chiller that's mountable to the wall at eye level. Oh, and make it height adjustable because the naysayers will claim eye level varies a bit from Shak to Wee Man. Nothing from the nipple ring level and south is needed or desired. Two swing out doors is all that is required. No ice dispenser wanted as any civilized humanoid only uses frosted beer mugs. Who cares about the fancy exterior design, what matters is the surface area of the one and only shelf. It must have the capacity for all the chiller's important cargo. What to do with the large emptiness left below the new and greatly improved frosting unit. That becomes a tidy spot for the digital big screen or a roll away stand for the handily mounted brewster keg. For the pussy clobbered among us it could also serve as another dusty nic-nac haven. All problems easily solved.

Somebody get me a frosty dark one for my work is now done.

Wow, look at that hook

When did the human excitement threshold sag to a level when two legged uprights get chills watching other uprights smacking little white dimpled balls around. I don't mean the 6:00 news hilights or even a few minutes of a major tournament on prime time viewed in the comfort of your TV room with a cold brewski. I mean to actually drop a crisp Jackson, hike 5 miles to a fenced off strip of sloppy mud with another 108 human morons near the driving tee of the 8th hole in the rain. Is the brain dopamine saturation at a point where this provides excitement for a select few amongst us. Do these same chill seekers watch latex paint dry in humid Alabama in July or Bermuda grass grow in arid Arizona when the nearest putting tournament is a continent or two away. This pathetic thrill fringe has even spawned a golf channel. What's next 24 7 bocci news. Come on fellow high brows get a life. At least watching a game of America's favorite past time with its whining overpaid tobacco chewing Caribbean Neanderthals is boring enough but at least all the players are within viewing distance and you can sit and be comfortable and shout disparaging remarks at the players and the other fans and even participate in a drunken brawl or two all for one over priced ticket. But watching golf on site takes fanhood to uncharted depths of what a boring life. To further biatch slap these club envy morons strict rules are in place enforced by a retired fortune 2000 CEO with a 23 handicap: no shouts, no belches, no profanity, no woots, no catching and keeping the errant clobbered balls, no seats, no view and no retractable, climate controlled dome. And worse, at most tournament venues the fortunate few only get to see one stroke and, if lucky, a miff or two by each passing player. Sounds like a mighty fine way to pee away lots of hours of a meaningless existence.

BTW, there's a future blooping blog blurb about the actual game of golf. You know that wonderful past time of smacking and then chasing a petite little pocked faced white ball into the woods so you and your best friends, who don't have any other friends, can waste the next half century looking for it amongst the poison sumac and rhodadendums and claim a few aerobic conditioning points between warm beers. More on this Scottish joke on fellow homo sapiens in a future blog soon to be playing near you.

FORE!!

My last 2 cents

Feel privileged to pay federal, state and municipal income taxes? Enjoy the state sales tax? Pay the county tax months ahead of time? Happy to fork over the township tax? Smile while submitting the school tax? Can't wait to hand over the capital gains tax? If yes to all the above you have a mutation that provides you joy snuffing out cigarettes on your forehead and scratching yourself with a rusty wire brush. How about the more obscure fees like toll roads and bridges, hotel and occupancy taxes, dog license fees, vehicle registration, death and estate taxes, professional license fees, federal and state gas taxes, hunting and fishing licenses, recreational vehicle registration, tax on tires, vice taxes on cigarettes, liquor and gambling, parking fees, park entrance fees, luxury vehicle tax, and retirement taxes like social security and medicare. And the really, really obscure methods of government financing like lotteries, gambling, state run liquor stores ............ Still smiling or puking up your last dollar!!

How about the peripheral costs associated with these taxes, fees and other money sucking methods. For example, the bureaucracies needed by the government agencies for collecting, processing and of course, jailing subversives. We commonly think of the infamous IRS, but each tax and fee needs a corresponding bureaucracy to administer and enforce the laws and rules and to collect the moola. How about the paying side that wants to spend Christmas with their family and not between Bubba's hairy cheeks. Companies need bloated sized bean counting organizations to administrate their product and service proceeds and to make sure uncle gov gets its mandated share. Even small companies need CPA's on staff or retainer to keep themselves out of jail. How about the average wage earner that needs to hire H&R Block to fill out their 1040EZ form and pay a pencil geek $250 for the privilege. Then there's all the tax attorneys. You know, the brethren of the attorneys that wrote the laws so only other attorneys could understand them.

Then there's the incurred costs that are cleverly disguised as improving social order. Examples include all the rules and regulations that add cost to products and services. Meat inspectors, health inspectors, EPA and OSHA regulations, equipment safety requirements....... Guess who pays. And of course, some more obscure costs from bureaucratic and local politico decision making. Every traffic light and stop sign causes loss time and fuel expenditures. Mis-engineered roads cause premature vehicle wearout and abnormal maintenance. Nonsynchronized stop lights cause traffic blight. I could go on adinfinitim but I just ran out of money.

I'm going to fist spam your flat screen

Web rage has become the digital version of I'm going reposition your butt ugly nose to the back side of your head. Email banter and other forms of e-chat have brought a whole new perspective on testosterone charged internet communications. Persumably sane fools are losing all their low blood pressure cool in e-chat battles that would make Attila the Hun back off. Apparently the cold world of bits and bytes with it's lack of voice tone and body language have made some folks a bit touchy - you know the ones easily pushed over the edge. Interpretations of literal word choices without the human nuances used with other forms of communication sends the hard core fringe freaks into adversarial orbit. I've noticed that the personality types that tend to be crisp and pointed with their e-words will always get into an e-war with the personality types that read everything literally with no room for gray fringes. I'm sure we all know folks from these two scary segments of the anal school of black or white interpretation.

These e-fisty cuffs all have the same characteristics and draw upon the same schoolyard tactics everyone fondly remembers and enjoyed while pubescing. First, there's the initiating e-comment. Usually a "to the point" e-banter about nothing. Second, the receiver interprets the message as an attack on their sorry ass manhood. Now the e-gloves are off. The response amounts to the first e-punch from the one with the insecure manhood. The response has all his e-friends cc'd as e-backup. One can't enter into war without backup. The original sender now has one of two choices. Go for a return e-strike or provide a more tactful interpretation of the original e-exchange. 99% of the time the original e-sender goes for the e-attack - how dare anyone misinterpret their e-message. They return an e-blast with all of their e-friends cc'd - again, one can't have too much e-backup. Now we have a full blown e-war with both sides slinging every e-disparage possible and occasionally some new ones. By round two everyone has been labeled a sexual deviate. Volley three is reserved for picking on spelling and grammar. Return four is for e-smucking relatives. And finally attack five is reserved for "I'm paying you a visit with my black belt in "pick your Asian people thumper mode" friends to womp your butt. At this point the e-war is over. Everyone meekly realizes that no one knows where the offending parties live, and if they do it's usually half a continent away.

Ya wanna e-go. My e-server will e-boot your e-ass to the recycle bin without return e-postage.

where's my tip?

This tipping for service thing has gone way over the edge or not nearly far enough. Generally I'm dead set against tipping for service in its current social form. Why are we only allowed to tip a small portion of the experience? I want to be able to reward or penalize all aspects of the product. For example, a fine meal includes the food, china and stainless, linens, free beer refills, nonsticky chair arm rests, frosted beer mugs (even for rounds two, three, four and five), service, view, temperature, hostess cleavage, atmosphere, ambiance, quiet neighboring tables without brattie kids, parking, nonchatty server, dessert tray, weather, a ride home, and your date. If any one of these equally important elements of a meal go awry then the whole experience heads south real fast. If you get a charred steak buried in a fungal green sauce that your doberman pincher would back away from served in a slop bucket delivered by butt scratching Armond with a tude then you should have the privilege of not paying anything - nada. And why should you be limited to only taking your angst against butt boy? Surely the establishment honchos have a play in making sure the entire experience is exemplary. And if Armond is a single mutation from cro-magnum then way is he on the staff to begin with. I suppose if your date is butt ugly, slurps his wine and spits his s's then you can't fault the fine dining establishment except for possibly too much light and not enough background noise.

Another perspective on this process is that the culinary honchos should pay the anal scratcher decent wages so he doesn't have to promise sexual favors for a reasonable tip. Does the proprietor think that folks are fooled by the lower prices on the greasy plastic laminated menu because decent compensation for the service is not included. BTW, why has it become standard practice to include a predetermined gratuity for large parties, usually at a higher rate than standard. WTF. Why is serving a large party any more troubling than several small parties with individual idiosyncrasies. I digress. Pay the peasants some decent coin and get off our backs.

Still another perspective. If this blog doesn't put tipping out of my misery then it should not be limited to certain services like meals brought to your table, Jack Daniels poured from one glass container to another, haircuts with lice ladened clippers, taxi thrill rides in smoke stained iron coffins and full body massages by callus knuckled Slovik women. If I can stiff my barber for the buzz cut look from Terminator II then I want to stiff the doctor that didn't cure my pedifungus and the pilot that 3g'ed the landing. I want to stiff the auto mechanic for selling me a rear end lub job I didn't enjoy and the cable company for not carrying my favorite sex help talk shows. I want to stiff my insurance company for overcharging me and my electric power provider for not supplying enough charging.

And of course, one final and most important perspective on tipping. Give me a piece of the tipping economics. Just a small token for my contributions towards enhancing the good will and fortune of humanity. A gratuity of 25% for single contributions and 50% for any party over 3 is more than fair. The cashier will take care of the math.

I want my drugs

The next time you watch one of the national evening news broadcasts count the number of drug advertisements. You will be bombarded with today's drug assault with feel good brands like Paxil, Claritin, Levitra, Vioxx, Cialis, Zoloft, Zyban, Viagra, Aleve, Lipitor, Propecia, Xanax, Celebrex.... (Disclaimer: I'm being very presumptuous that any sane person still watches one of these liberal bastions of American news outlets. It is however, safe to assume a majority of America's hypochondriacs view this dribble.)

Some interesting aspects to this barrage of chemical enhancements. First, they require perscriptions - you know an MD's recommendation and signature before the visit to your local Paxil pusher. Apparently the advertising strategy is to convince the drug happy and gullible public that they have an affliction that needs attending to posthaste and then arm the buzz heads with 10 second sound bits of medical jargon to browbeat their doctor with. If the doctor doesn't play their role pronto then one simply opens up the spam filters on their email server and before the first keystroke they'll have two dozen internet options to procure their favorite brain fog, delivered conveniently to their doorstep. Second, the ads use vibrant and healthy actors - too healthy. In fact, it's clear that they use twenty-something youngsters and add the temple gray and the 1970's wardrobe. This is quite clever. The subliminal process convinces the cloudy minded viewer that if Tarzan and Jane need arthritic soothing creme or acid refex terminator then their sore ass with it's 30 pounds of excess human lard hanging off a stiff jointed carcess for sure needs some synthetic pick me up.

Now I will say every once in awhile a covalent bonded wonder is introduced that catches even my holistic attention. The recent ED curables are such products. I was never a Viagra convert - too many stories of heart stoppages for my libdo. My simple brain rationalizes that if you're dead you can't do the belly dance. But the two new brands have a new twist. I need to point out that ED has never been nor will ever be an issue for this willy wacking wunderkind. However, when I hear that four hour marathons are possible my pheromone antennae perk up. This maybe the answer to the bravado that every testosterone laden male has promised their partner(s) but failed miserably at many times during their prime manhood years. That all elusive all night sweatfest. Captain Chemical has created an energizer bunny for the nuggie noggie.

you need counseling

For all of you Dear Abby fans, what's with this advice chick? I have to admit that I've read her column over the years to keep a pulse on the whiner scale both from the zeros that write in and her same old, 1960's morality peppered with the 1990's feel good. First of all, if ya got a real life problem who in all persumed sanity would compose a letter to a pseudonym and have it plastered over every newspaper that ran out of sports scores to print. And then get one of three canned responses. 1) you need counseling, 2) you and your, insert as appropriate "worthless husband, disrespecting teenage, or wicked mother-in-law", should get counseling and 3) get another counselor. Whenever she tries to get a bit creative and meander ever so slightly away from the bare your soul mantra she steps right into a 7" pile of steaming, wet dog poo. Then her lurking readers put the hammer down, give her a verbal biatch slap and get her refocused again for the next set of human slugs to send to counseling.

If all the "world is kicking me in the crotch with number 17 Wolverine mud stumpers" whiners would just realize that some things are a given in life and just accept the inevitable they could boot Dear A off the gravy train and she'd have to get a real job like composing obituaries. Cultural chi would return and I'd have to read Dave Barry for entertainment.

For the Paxil addicts here's a sampling of life's certainties:

- It's not your wedding so get over it and remember half of you will drop the loser within 5 years anyhow, so why be a perfectionist now.
- Mother-in-laws have a mutated gene, so they can't help it.
- Male genes never mutated so they carry with them the Neanderthal complex and will always be slime balls. BTW, they can't be changed so stop trying.
- Teenagers will always hate their parents, it's the process of preparing them for their kids.
- Everybody gets senile, some just a little earlier than others.
- Everybody was abused, just ask them.
- Counselors have all the same problems as you whiners so how can they help you when they can't help themselves.

My office hours are 11-12pm on the 5th Friday of the month. Slap sauve provided.

sunday church dress up

A recent flurry of editorials have hijacked the local newspaper's editorial page regarding the proper attire for church going. The fact that this is even an issue with anyone activates my dopamine. It further blows my mind that I'm wasting bit space and bandwidth adding to this bad brother banter. But hey, it's the sabbath and this is my contribution to organized spiritually.

The pro dress up fringe argues that it shows disrespect for the almightly one to show up in church with beachware and tee ready golf clubs. Nipple rings would most likely be frowned upon as well. The dress as you are fringe points out that some of the more famous biblical folks wore sandals to church and hence set the precedent a couple millenia ago for casualware. Interestingly, no where is it mentioned that the majority of folks these days don't even attend church. Correlation?

It seems to me that the solution is obvious. Attendence allowed only in one's birthday suit. I bet attendence would go up significantly or at least the traffic near the venue of worship. There certainly would be no argument over who's the best and worst dressed. Aunt Mary would have to leave her Sunday bonnet in the shiny Lincoln. All members would bring their own seat doilies. We wouldn't want naked butts and periphery tainting the naturally stained fake oak pews. There might be side bets on who wins the sag and droop contest but people are people and we all know pettiness is part of the species' genome. It would also be a clever way to expose all those nipple rings. Everybody wins.

See ya in church.

Is world order dependent on Friday night HS football?

What's with Friday night HS football?! Thursday evening news interviews with coaches, players and fans by highly (overly) compensated communications experts suggest that world order is riding on the outcome of Friday night football games. Must be, because >20% of the local news show is dedicated to the sports anchor rambling on about this team or that rivalry!! WGAF. Listen to any of these interviews and only 10 words are ever used, albeit in different combinations to keep us near idiots on our toes - "execution", "turnover", "defense", "offense", "focus", "fundamentals", "control", "penetration", "contain" and "field position". Isn't there a loser for every winner and hence total neutrality at the end of the day? Add the win/lose columns at the end of the season and doesn't it always equal zero? So what was gained besides blown teenage cartilage, fired up testosterone, and an adult brawl in the stands? Ok, maybe the middle aged, beer bellied coach with the bully complex that played two years of undistinguished Division III college ball, including his redshirt year, never transgressing beyond puberty can keep his physical education job at the local HS. And that the megabuck sports budget can be justified another year to the overburdened taxpayers. You're probably now expecting me to lament on how the sports $ are spent at the expense of slighting the more intellectual outlets like the debate and chess teams. Nope. That's another post.

For a postscript, I suppose it's noteworthy that <10% of the HS players go onto college ball and major in creative class skipping with a faint hope of pro ball and nailing the cheerleader(s). College sports is definitely worthy of another post.

more freaks in Austraila and Cuba

As a follow on to yesterday's olympic fringe freak commentary I decided to look closer at the medal winner tallies. The total medal count went something like US - 103, Russia - 92, China - 63, Austraila - 49 and Germany - 48. At first blush it appears the US kicked some serious freak ass. But wait. Let's play nerd and normalize the medal count on a per capita basis. The numbers now look like US - .4 medals per million people, Russia - .6, China - .05, Austraila - 2.5, and Germany - .6. Holy crap, we got soundly trounced!! Austraila had over 5 times the medal production rate than the US. In fact, of the top 11 medal producers we only beat China and Japan, two Asian countries where the average height is less than a bar stool and average weight is 137 lbs soaked in soy sauce. Interestingly, Cuba matched Austraila's freak rate. We got our marshmallow butts handed to us by a geriatric dictator and a continent of former inmates. We look pee poor on the freak fringe scale. It's time for some major American mutations. Come on America it's time to freak out!! BTW, was I the only American routing aganst the US b-ball team - what a freak show!

freak show in Athens

The 3 week freak show in Athens was great, although NBC way over played gymnastics, swimming and commercial breaks during US primetime. 10,000 athletes performing at an odd lot of events to a level that 99.99983% of the human population can't come remotely close to - even on the best drugs money and fame can buy. Swimmers of 6'-4" stature, equal size wing span, piddling 32" inseam and size 17 pedifins! The only mutation missing is a set of gills. Definitely a pool freak! A 10,000 meter track sprint at sub 4 and 1/2 minute mile pace with a closing 1/4 mile of 54 seconds. A damn fast track freak! Triple, backward, single handed somersaults with a twist or two thrown in on a 4" wooden beam by a 4' 2" emaciated barbie doll. A tiny, flexible freak! 100 lb women weightlifters throwing more than twice their body weight of iron above their heads. Strong, scary freaks! Barrel chested, neckless human muscle masses heaving 16 lb steel balls over 70 feet. Very big, strong and hairy freaks! What percentile of the human population do these genetic variations fit into? Well it's the freaky fringe. And to spot these freaks of freaks look for a gold medallion drapped around their necks. The less fortunate freaks carry other markers. Definition from Webster: freak (freek) n. 1, an abnormal person, plant or thing.

flogging blogging

I've been aware of blogging for awhile, but didn't pay much attention until now. WTF. I've recently browsed through a few typical blogs and after a few head bobs and 10 second power snoozes trying to get through these dry dribbles decided that we've found another means of creating huge piles of cyber dung. My goodness - booooooooooring. Do folks actually get off reading about Jeeny procrastinating over homework. Darin reminising about last night's coconut shrimp. Tomas wondering why his ladyfriend dumped his bums ...... over the phone, after 5 years of supposed bliss. My biggest kick - so far - is the typical opening comment "I apologize for not keeping this updated". Like the world is gnawing it's nails waiting for Pauli to tell us about the day she had. Personally I'd like to thank Pauli for not updating her blooping blog and saving server space!

boyze's first blip

I found out about blogger.com from a bike forum which I learned about from a Nissan 350Z forum which I stumbled across from internet car shopping. Don't ya love the internet!! Cosmic order or virtual randomness?