Another Milestone on the Journey of Life - My First Root Canal

Last week at 3:14am I woke up with a throb in my rear left, bottom molar. During the day not too bad. The next night at 2:16am another celtic dance nerve party. The following day a throb that would incapacitate most mortals. Late Friday afternoon a date with the dentist. I got to the dentist's office 45 minutes early! On purpose. Ready for some immediate relief.

They promptly laid me down on the examining table and then had me wait the full 45 minutes with every heart beat sending my afflicted tooth nerves into a high pitch frenzy. Finally the doc shows up. He wanted to verify which tooth was the culprit by banging on it with a metal rod. Hello idiot. I've lived with this dental alien for 3 days so I should know which ivory needs to be attended to. Post haste. He banged anyhow and created a scream heard throughout the county.

His prognosis, a cracked tooth with a likely abscess. The options: yank it or root canal. That's like beat me in the head with an icepick or ballpeened hammer - some choice. I opted for the root canal because the extraction sounded more painful. Besides, I'm not ready for one of those hillbilly grammy gaps.

Little did I know that the real fun was about to begin. First the x-rays. The assistant was fresh out of the local dental training program. She couldn't get the hold my mouth open gizmo located in my mouth to her satisfaction and kept asking me to bit down on the handle. Yup, I got a tooth that would craze Godzilla and she wants me to bit down on a hard object. Next she couldn't get the x-ray lens close enough to my jaw. In the process she banged my jaw with the sore fang at least a dozen times. Finally I asked if I could simply move my head to the machine instead. BTW, all this happens before the sweet magic of novacane.

Next the drilling. Not too bad. Next the needle punch. Apparently the process is to drill to the very tip of the tooth roots, but not quite through. The through part is left to a thin needle that is used to punch through into the jaw where many more nerves reside. Well let me say that the magic of novacane hadn't prepared me for this new set of screaming nerves. The first root was a surprise and it was over before I knew what had happened. Well almost. But I had a second root and I had wised up to what as about to happen again. I soon realized that waiting for pain is much worse than the actual pain. Root number 2 took forever to punch through. Finally done.

Paid the $900 tab. Apparently, BMW payment was due. Went home and waited for the novacane to wear off, which happened all too soon.

Da Vinci Code

Saw this flick a few days ago. I have to admit that the professional critics got this one right. Entertaining with an interesting storyline. But overall, kinda boring. I and apparently 2 blind Austrailian outback aboriginies are the only 3 people left on earth that have not yet read the book. Anyhow, the movie was no better or worse than 100's of other adventure thrillers made and lost in the great panavision archives.

Regardless of the movie's entertainment value, what are the right wing Christians up in arms about? How could anyone think this was a spiritual wedgy on current Christian dogma. Get a grip folks, this is a movie not a scientific documentary.

BTW, how did Leonardo come to know the secrets. He only painted the Last Supper several hundred years after the alleged meal. And that "M" thing. Holy crap it could have been a "V" and meant that the vino had soured.

I on the otherhand would find it rather intriguing that someone like Jesus might have been human enough to have a wife and an offspring or two.

quiet winds

Some of life's aphrodisiacs:

- 80 degrees, quiet early summer air and a clear blue sky with a few scattered cumulus clouds
- serenading whipperwills
- a late afternoon training ride on carless back roads
- a freshly mowed lawn
- a freshly hayed field
- Venti sized Starbucks hot chocolate with the whipped cream while on a road trip
- the 10 mile bridge run on an early am in Colebrook
- mid summer, early evening, takeout dinner with family at the pond
- family ponies in the late afternoon grazing in the pasture
- fresh snow
- a pat on the back
- a tough 1 hour workout
- polished black foreign sports car
- OBX with the family
- Christmas eve lights drive
- dinner with the girls
- spring leaves
- hotel room with a king and chilled wine
- long weekend
- thought provoking movie
- 6 pack abs
- laughter
- 70's music
- underdog win
- well fitting jeans
- cowboy boots
- pets
- new car smell
- UPS delivery
- new book
- Sunday paper
- powdered sugar donut holes
- cow chewing its cud
- doe and fawns under the apple tree
- Munich Oktoberfest
-

when boys were men and skiis were wood

Yesterday, the day before the official start of fishing season, 1000's of farm raised trout were released into the favorite fishing holes of this wannabee wildlife state. Today, the official start of fishing season, 1000's of juiced up Daniel Boone wannabees stand shoulder-to-shoulder with carbon rods, reels of nylon and baited bobbers trying to lure yesterday's release. WTF!

I bet aquarium fishing becomes an Olympic sport.

It just makes you scratch your head and shout WTF!

- Why do car driving smokers crack the window while smoking?
- Why do people order the fat dripping kalbasa and supersize fries with a diet coke?
- Why do baldies do an ear-to-ear comb over with 9 12" hairs?
- Why are men with man-boobs not arrested for indecent exposure for going topless in public?
- Why are women without boobs arrested for decent exposure for going topless in public?
- Why doesn't the men's room have a sofa?
- How come men don't get to have a time of the month?
- Why would anyone willingly eat boiled cabbage?
- How come teenagers are so smart?
- Why do women who dress to the nines become offended if they are hit on?
- Why do men who dress to the nines become offended if they aren't hit on?
- Why do teenage boys dress like street alley beggars with more underwear than common sense?
- Why does our government subsidize tobacco and alchol and outlaw all other feel good drugs?
- Why are the income tax laws so complex they require a CPA and three Philadelphia tax attorneys to have an 80% chance of getting the 1040EZ form approved without an IRS audit?
- Why are there over 1,000,000 lawyers in the US and only 2,000,000 engineers?
- Why does our right to bear arms exclude surface-to-air missiles, rocket launchers, and Apache attack helicopters?
- Why does our right to bear arms include assault rifles, mace, and M50 rifles?
- Why do $100,000 RV's tow a second vehicle?
- Why would someone with nail bed fungus take a cure that puts their liver in jeopardy?
- Why is there a golf channel?

the pathetically clueless

What does one have to do to make it on the "pathetically clueless" list? Here's a few starters.

- toss a butt out the window of your car.....you have yellow teeth.....the car reeks of smoke.......your breath would knock a camel down.......but you can't stomach putting the butt in the ashtray
- toss a butt on the sidewalk and give it a good foot twist to grind the dark deep ash into the concrete.......real attractive
- toss a butt anywhere but in the ashtray
- wear a bumper sticker that says my kid made the honor role.....BTW, absolutely no one cares
- circle the parking lot 13 times looking for a spot closer to the door
- park between the only 2 cars in the lot.....if you're that lonely and need human contact......visit Manhattan and ride the subways at rush hour
- park next to my car..........the only other car in the lot
- park in the handicapped spot..........even if you're handicapped
- leave your grocery cart in the middle of the isle to read the label on the Campbells tomato soup can
- leave your grocery cart in the middle of the parking lot...next to my car...on a slope...in the wind
- run a red light......you're as likely to be deep-sixed as the poor fool you hit
- pass school bus while it's lights are flashing.......your kids might be on that bus
- pass a semi on the right
- sell cars for a living........never met one that I liked
- sell insurance for a living......
- work for the IRS.........if the tax system was simple and direct these drolls would be out of jobs and off the public payroll
- tailgate.......has anyone ever sped up because they were being tailgated
- let your kids loose in the store, resturant, ....
- talk on your cell phone on an airplane, in a bus, on the subway, ....
- write Dear Abby........for real
- internet date.......for real
- watch Survivor, Amazing Race, American Idol, Who Wants to be a Millionare, ....
- send me religous propaganda....of any kind
- send me political propaganda....of any kind
- wear your religion on your sleeve.....don't you trust your faith?
- whine about the weather.......like it's better in the Amazon and the Artic
- whine about the traffic......like you're not contributing to it
- whine about your job.......if you call it your job then it's a job and it won't be any fun by definition
- in fact, whine about anything
- state that you work very hard.........who doesn't in their own mind
- rubberneck at an accident............do you think that will save the victims
- ask for a tip for a service already paid for........charge the market rate
- perpetuate rumors.......scum
- gossip.......more scum
- start gossip.......worst than scum
- ambulance chasing lawyers......who advertize on billboards and TV
- sit next to me and my date in an 1/2 empty theater
- talk during a movie
- get to the movie 10 minutes after the trailers have ended
- hum or whistle in public.........it ain't cool
- talk about your personal finances......no matter how bad or good they are
- brag about your kids......no matter how bad or good they are
- condemn drugs but chain smoke cigs and swill alkie
- wish for the good old days.........like when caves were the new suburbia and the sabertooth was to be feared
- claim to be old fashioned.........like having a desire to do the laundry on a wash board and salt the meat
- proclaim God Bless America..........what's wrong with the rest of the universe
- don't understand today's kids.........were you understood as a kid
- watch golf on TV.........it's boring enough playing the game
- whine about being abused.........it's turning out that everybody was abused
- let the pets run your life
- put the vet's phone number on speed dial ahead of your doctor's number....and mine
- pay 2 dollars for a 10oz bottle of water and whine about the cost of gas.....and beer
- order Sam Adams beer thinking it's a fine microbrew
- order Budweiser thinking it's a beer
- a priest taking a vow of celibacy and abusing kids of the flock....if they truly believed, then offer them an option of being neutered

Olive Garden Disappoints

One could only hope that after a bad, bad cimematic experience that the dinner could save the evening. Not to be.

As a preface, the local Olive Garden has been a favorite feeding spot for me and family and even a few business meals over the years. In most cases the experience has been good. Last night was BAD.

Let's walk through the ordeal. First the parking was excellent with a spot very near the entrance door. Warm greeting by hostesses. No wait and a quick walk to non-smoking section. Planted right next to table with two large gals who had apparently arrived just before us. We might have just as well been seated at the same table. We walked right by a couple of more private booths but we must have looked like we wanted dining company. I ordinarily would have requested a nore private table but opted out this evening. We were seated and waitor was soon upon us. After a brief chat we ordered drinks and our meals. The salad showed up, what there was of it. Olive Garden serves their salads in a large bowl and the diners serve themselves from it. We must not have very looked hungry because our bowl wouldn't have fed a pigmy couple. Still no drinks. The breadsticks arrive. I love Olive Garden's breadsticks. I used to love Olive Garden's breadsticks. The four we got were cold, and had dried out on the ends. The drinks finally arrive. I had a direct view to the bar from my chair and there were no patrons in the bar so I am clueless why a Corona and red wine would take 15 minutes to serve. It got worse. No glass for the beer. Now this will seem very picky to most people but I like my beer in a glass, preferrably in a frosted glass even if the brew is already in a cold bottle. Not to be. BTW, I have rarely been in a resturant where they will serve the second beer in a new frosted glass even though the first one was frosted. Do the servers and proprietors think only the first serving needs all the frivilities. Apparently I looked like a college frat hack who will gladly take their swill directly from the keg spout this evening. In the meantime the waitor is back to inform my date that the meal she ordered couldn't have the chicken portion because they were out. How can a resturant be out of chicken on a Saturday evening at 9:00! She asked him to just add more beef. The meals eventually arrive and it turns out that the shish ca bobs she ordered were not shewered because they also ran out of shewers. WTF. Five minutes later her side vegetable arrived after she's well into her meal. I had the spagetti with sausage. The sausage was good, but the spagetti was already drying out on the edges of the plate. By this time I realize why we were seated next to Dawn and Donna. The other sections were already empty and the staff was cleaning them up. Apparently it is more important that the resturant be promptly readied for the next day than for today's diners to have a quiet spot to enjoy their dining.

I pay Jason and give him an overly generous tip for the service. Actually any tip would have been overly generous. Now one could put all the blame on Jason and he certainly deserves a good share. But the managemet owns most of it. They should not allow dried bread sticks. They should not tolerate depleted inventories. They own the quality of the full experience.

On a "I will definitely go back" to "I gotta barf" scale of 10 to 1 this experience was a 4. It will be awhile before you see me at the Olive Garden again. Oh, Jason get another job you suck at waiting.

Firewall Flop

Two movies in two weeks!! Holy cimematic freakout Robin. After the Brokeback experience my longing for widescreen entertainment drew me and my date to a more traditional movie storyline. What a disappointment.

I wasn't into this flop 10 minutes and I was starting the let's blow this joint countdown. This was soooooooooooo boooooooooooring and so like 100's of other hero action storylines. Let's recap. Hero action dude and family get's put into situation where action dude must save himself, his family and the world(in this case some money)from master villain and villain helper dudes. Hero dude tries various attempts of twarting the bad act and ends up getting son nearly dead and a villain helper shot by master villain. Of course, in today's digital world there's the need for banks of computers, an unimpregnable security system, hence the name firewall, and obviously a way around the umimpregnable. There was absolutely nothing new or stimualting in this flick. Let's see we had the usual near escape by the family and the recapture just as they we starting the car. Wow, so original. Then we have the action hero stumbling across all the right clues and a helper to put the villian on the defense. Then we had the family pooch wearing a GPS collar so action hero can find villains and family. And to top it off and played out so many times the action hero goes fist to fist with master villian. After a few broken windows, tables and walls action hero happens upon a pick and ends the villian dude. The only cliche not played was the final resurrection of the villain with the pick in his back to taunt the hero or family member one last time before we're all put out of our misery.

Man, this thing was bad. In the wise words of my oldest daughter that's two hours of my life that I'll never get back.

Brokeback Moment

I don't see many movies on the big screen but Brokeback Mountain dug it's claws into my sensibilities and won't let go. I don't pay much heed to professional movie critics as art is pure subjectivity and a critic is merely providing their opinion from their own context and prejudices and happen to get paid for it. My simple gage of a movie is how quickly the two hours passes, whether I merge with the characters, and to the degree that the movie haunts me afterwards. Well, score 10 on all 3 accounts. I didn't want it to end. I felt a deep connection with all three of the main characters and I can't stop thinking about it.

BTW. My sexual orientation runs as straight as a Kansas highway.

This is not a gay cowboy flick. Think Love Story between 2 people who happen to be Wyoming cowboys and not Boston preppies. Think Romeo and Juliet in a 1960's western setting riding horses, herding sheep and speaking in western drawl rather than Shakespearean English. This is a movie of human passion. It's a depiction of a raw deep connection between two humans in an environment of social and emotional conflicts and taboos. This movie hurts and fulfills on so many levels. One feels depressed at the ending but soon realizes that the characters experienced something to be cherished forever. I doubt many will ever be so fortunate to feel something as strong as this in their lives but I would argue that one hasn't truly lived unless they do.

To shun or be afraid of this story line is a lost opportunity of witnessing one of life's true passions play out in the cinematic art form.

Part 2: You might be a real Vermonter if

- your 1st power tool was a 30cc chain saw.
- your 2nd power tool was an ice auger.
- your 3rd power tool was an electric beer cooler.
- driving lessons were bull raking hay after school in the 1st grade.
- your wife drives your pickup more than you do.
- your wife can out arm wrestle you and all your male cousins. At once.
- your wife has more hand calluses. Than you. And your cousins. All together.
- you have more teeth than your wife, although yours are removable.
- pro-choice is drinking the beer of your choice.
- pro-life is Sunday morning after a Saturday night at the county fair.
- women's liberation is getting your pickup back.
- social security is a barn full of hay and a silo topped off.
- medicare is a care package with bag balm, horse liniment and ace bandages.
- subsidies are 5 cent returnable bottles.
- tax reform is for idiots that pay taxes.
- national security is a 30-06.
- border patrol is a 30-06, 3x scope and a stocked beer cooler.
- inhuman treatment of animals is an empty meat locker.
- kindergarten was cleaning manure gutters, feeding calves and getting down hay.
- sex education was a guy with an oversized plastic glove, 2 foot reach and a long glass rod.
- your family pets included a mad rooster, kid killing gander, a pair of roof perched guinea hens and a car chasing mangy cow dog.
- a Sunday country ride included equine.
- a snow day meant a long walk in tall boots.
- a mud day meant a day off.
- a hay day was a long day.
- a sugaring day was a longer day.
- a power outage meant hand cramps and mastitis.
- the world doesn't exist west of the Ausable Chasm, south of the Flume in Franconia Notch, east of Mount Washington, and north of Sherbrooke, Quebec.
- education reform is a bigger stick.
- college prep was 4-H animal husbandry.
- sand lot baseball was a freshly hayed field and 10 siblings.
- a morning jog included 60 head with bloated bags, bull thistles, and fresh lane pies.
- an afternoon workout included 200 75 lb overhead hay bale tosses.

You might be a real Vermonter if

- you plug in your engine block heater before your morning jo.
- your swimming pool brook trout ate the rubber duckies and the neighbor's cat.
- you really did walk to school in 2 feet of snow. Really.
- your "come bosssssssss" can be heard across two valleys and fill a barn before sunrise.
- your new boots are waterproofed with genuine fresh steaming cow shit.
- your fondest per-adolescent teats hung from a Jersey.
- your tractor is green with a hand clutch and has a 2 cylinder putt-putt deeper than any Harley Davidson.
- you enjoy 4 of the 5 seasons - summer, leaf peeping, hunting, skiing, and love the 5th - mud.
- you find the smell of a fresh manured hay field better than all the numbers of Chanel.
- you made half your summer wages as a kid driving tractors during the county fair cavalcade.
- your normal work day starts at 5am and ends at breakfast.
- your hand calluses are tougher than an old wire brush and not nearly as soft.
- you use your turn signals sparingly because you know where you're going.
- you define fine gourmet dining by what's new at the county fair.
- you lobby the international Olympic committee to make horse pulling an Olympic sport.
- you save the -30 degree days for ice fishing. You do lots of ice fishing.
- you contributed 3 months beer allowance to the Fred Tuttle for US Congress fund.
- you use your neighbors pink lawn swans for target practice.
- you make extra money water witching for flatlanders.
- knowing Ames was the original Walmart.
- you had a farmers tan in the 1st grade at age 6 and Popeye forearms in the 3rd grade at age 12.
- you were weaned on Black Label beer.
- your pickup is worth more than your house.
- your snowmobile is worth more than your pickup.
- your ice fishing shanty is worth more than your snowmobile.
- your gun collection is worth more than your fishing shanty.
- your pocketknife is your best friend.
- your next best friend doesn't dare borrow your pocketknife.
- your next best friend is welcome to borrow your truck, snowmobile and wife.
- your axe is double bitted and has an elmwood handle with your favorite Jersey's initials carved in it.
- you have 3 years of wood cut, stacked and seasoned. And years 4 and 5 on the ground.
- you found your wife at the weekend auction bidding against you for the used farrier's anvil.
- your yearly fireworks display is the January chimney fire.
- your favorite chair and prized tools were found at the town dump.
- dump day is the Vermont sabbath.
- post graduate work is shop class.
- you decreed town meeting day a national holiday.
- fancy grade refers to canned beer and maple syrup.
- knowing Vermont was the 14th original colony and claimed rights to half of present day NY and NH and are now damn glad you gave them up.
- your great, great, great, grandfather voted for Ethan Allen for president.
- you eat dinner at noon and supper at 5.
- your milk is straight from the pail.
- your bacon is hanging in the wood shed.
- your eggs are straight from the old hen roost.
- your last 2 deer took 3 flashlight batteries and a salt lick to bag.
- summer camp requires down jackets and a ream of black fly netting.
- bag balm is used for jock itch.
- horse hoof liniment is used for your toenail fungus.
- milkweed pod milk is used to clear your warts.
- your root cellar has sprouted potatoes from 3 years back and wilted carrots from the great depression.

billboard face shots

Would you purchase a house from a realtor that had their greater than lifesize face shot plastered on their foresale realty sign? Me neither. How about an insurance policy from a State Farm agent with their powdered nose on an oversized billboard? Nope, nada, no f'ing way. Then the ambulance chasing foursome of Gorge, Rape, Pillage and Pilfer, LLP peddling their legal wares to skewer your insurance company and causing all our premium rates to inflate. What arrogant idiots. Car dealership owners are some of the worse and ugliest. Why would I do business with a billboard droll for buying a car. We have the internet for squeezing the sleeze bags out of their high profits and fake invoice pricing. The south has the billboard preachers with their glistening combovers. Soul savers making themselves bigger than the originating prophets.

Now the Victoria Secrets' gals parading around in their just barely underwear selling their corporate products is for certain pleasant eye candy. We ain't looking at their faces anyway so it doesn't really count.

Loretta, what are you thinking

There's a chain of Loretta Lynn Kitcken's in the south that has lowered the bar for stomach raunch. On a northeast bound road trip and a weary stopover in eastern TN we should happen upon an exit catering to transient truckers and some of America's finest road warriors. The dining selection was like every other interstate exit in the northwestern hemisphere. McCraps, Arbites, Burger KlingOns, Pizza Puke, Taco Belch, Cracker Barf, IToss ..... You get the picture. To be different we opted for the presumably native fare by venturing to Loretta Lynn's Kitchen. What could possibly be disappointing with a brand moniker of one of America's most beloved country songbirds. Plus, the front facade was genuine artificial quaint appalachian clapboard. Well the first amonous sign was the single, and I emphasize single, patron seated by itself in a large dining room on a Friday evening at the peak dinner hour. This patron, undoubltly a trucker, had a gut paunch the size of Rhode Island, a road stare that only years of sniffing diesel fuel could possibly induce and an appetite that every southern wild bog boar would envy. The 2nd sign was the southern growl from bitch woman ordering us to plant ourselves at an open table. Then it gets interesting. BTW, trucker boy is still staring at us like we're ET's 1st cousins. I wasn't sure if I would need to protect my accompanying female companions or my own tight little butt. We soon had the menu choice to make. The 9.99 buffet was suggested by our underaged, overdressed but charming school girl waitress. So we opt for the all you can eat special. It has now been 12 hours since our diet mountain dew breakfast so the hunger pangs are strong and obviously clouding our judgement. We venture to the buffet spread and the real fun begins. The fried mystery looks wholesome with 1/2" thick crusts hiddening whatever lurks beneath. I quickly passed. The pulled pork is at least unbattered but it obviously has been laying in wait for at least a week if not longer and who knows what sauce it was stewing in. Next to it waits something that looks like barbequed ribs. Must have been some damn thin pig because the meat to bone ratio was heavy on the bone. The corn kernels appeared to be fully saturated with water and were as gummy looking as wallpaper paste. The oversized green beans looked no better, except the pie sized seeds poking through the skins. The bread rolls actually looked ok but like a true Americanized delicacy had been sopped in butter or pig lard. The mashed potatoes for sure had been poured from a can and had that crusty skin protecting the underbelly. The pickled beets were a deep violet and smiling at me. We cautiously loaded our plates. Back at the table the stainless fork was mangled so bad I had to straighten the tines out before it was safe to insert into my food shute. This was not a problem because this was the thinest gauge stainless I have ever seen. It was bending just from my glare. It soon became apparent that this southern country fare was not going to make it to my gullet. To top it off the diet coke had a distinctive chlorine hangover. So I'm sure the plastic glass was thoroughly disinfected as well has my stomach lining. Trucker boy had rolled himself out by now and was probably casing out our motel room.

The decor was pleasantly interesting. Pictures of past and present country and western performers were hang everywhere with what appeared to be real imitation autographs. I bet none of them high brows chowed at one of these joints more than once.

So if you should ever find yourself in a hoooowdieee state with a growling gut make sure to pay Loretta's a visit. Oh, and pack a lunch beforehand.

Perfection can not be improved

This is such a simple concept yet it is violated continuously by corporate marketing idiots. Take for example, Chips Ahoy cookies. The original Chips Ahoy's are sheer perfection. The designers stumbled across a divine combination of just the right mix of small dark chocolate chips captured in a crispy, but not too hard cookie batter blend. Even the size is perfection with 3 manly chomps and it's gone and you're onto the next one. Then the unthinkable. Out comes a soft version. And then a version with M&M's. WTF. Who wants a soft cookie. That's cake. Are they targeting ivoryless geriatrics and former hockey players that need to gum their food? Why add extraneous ingredients. M&M's by themselves are near perfection directly from the bag. Mixing one perfection with another perfection does not enhance perfection. You simply negate all that was perfect and end up with warm stinking dog dung. In case you wonder, dog shiat is not perfection, not even to a dung beetle. It stinks like crap and sticks too easily to my waffle treads. Let me repeat. Perfection can not be improved.

The list goes on. Original Oreos are perfect. Nobody wants double stuffing so why offer it. And what's with Hydrox cookies. I ain't eating nothing that sounds like some inorganic synthetic conjoured up by Dupont's sickest chemists. Fig newtons another perfection. Nobody wants cran or apple newtons, only figs. Cheerios. Drop the honey glaze. Beer. Stop serving that diluted horse piss labeled "lite" or "light". Friar Tuck has been tossing in his drunken grave since the late 70's when this sorry excuse for manhood brew hit the NFL half time shows. Lite beer is for girly men and washing my underwear. Hersey's kisses. Who decided that adding an almond made sense. Chocolate and peanut butter. Again two perfections mixed making warm cat shiat look attractive. And what's with white chocolate? Chocolate is brown! Even the name sounds brown and cocoa beans are brown. Not white. There should be no confusion on this point. Porsche and SUV. What a stupid idea. A Porsche is for blasting the twisties at 110 mph and for attracting arm candy. A Porsche is not for soccer moms and snot-nosed kids with suburban attitudes.

Now admittedly some products are in desparate need of improvement. Brussel sprouts come to mind. Why would anyone willingly put something that smells so bad into their mouth? Expect possibly a dung beetle. Or I suppose the cortex dead that also consume boiled cabbage and tapioca pudding. How do these drolls keep from tossing their stomach poo. Same for poached eggs. Cook the damn things. Eggs are not supposed to run. Anywhere.

Time to end this rant. My perfection needs a little primping.

Another Player Bigger Than the Game

Well, I hate to join the T.O. deserves this sh*t bangwagon but another athlete dives headlong into the oblivion spiral. But I gotta get my dig in. T. O. of the Eagles has lost his job. He apparently never bought into the team concept and he got booted. An ego run amuck. Bigger than the game. He's now spoiled goods. Do the fans care? Doubt it. Talk radio will have a field day! Bring on the next one. There's never a shortage of idiots and divine wannabees from any venue of life.

why aren't fax machines next to the buggy whip

I ordered cable modem service for my office and had to sign a 10 page contract basically stating that I would keep it for 2 years or more. I don't believe I promised sexual favors to the salesman. No idea on why it took 10 pages of legal gibberish, but I suppose lawyers have to eat. Anyhow, the sales idiot wanted to fax me the contract so I could sign it and fax it back to him. Time out idiot! I don't have a fax machine because I went paperless when the century rolled into the 21st. I then reminded the modern Neatherthal that his supposedly high tech company should also be paperless. They do promote the sale of their cable modem for highspeed internet access. Why not email me the contract and I'll email a signed version back. Is that so high tech?

Why do fax machines still exist? Do their users not understand the digital age with electronic communications. Paper should be saved for the John Crapper throne room.

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?