Henrico Monumental Foolishness

Henrico County is mulling a decision to erect a monument to 9/11 which would cost $1.2 to $1.5M.

Henrico's Congressman is my good buddy, Eric Cantor, who of course is one of the princes of the "I'm gonna stamp my feet and pretend I'm not taking federal money!!!!" movements. But he seems to be somewhat aware that people need jobs, as he hosted a jobs fair a few months ago:

The Richmond-area unemployment rate is inching upward, slightly, to 7.6 percent, and the region’s public employment center in Henrico is preparing for millions less in federal stimulus aid.

“Government spending money doesn’t create jobs. This jobs fair is trying to match up people looking for employment to be hired,” Cantor said.

The money for the monument is going to be raised privately, so obviously they can do what they want with it. But with unemployment on the rise and knowing the federal flow of $$$ will be less, perhaps if people are lucky and willing enough to raise $1.5M, it can be better spent in finding a way to create jobs (remember - private citizens create jobs, not the evil gub'ment.)

In the scheme of things, it's not a ton of dough. And maybe if it was for something other than a monument it wouldn't be raised at all. But while I suppose you'd have to agree the intention is a nice and honorable one, using the money for yet another way to fetishize the events of 9/11 and it's ensuing war et al is an incredible waste of money and opportunity. As usual, there's a big difference between doing actual things that are useful to people in real ways, and wondering why good things aren't happening just because you're waving the flag around harder than anybody else.

I Feel I've Been Misled.

Halloween Bummer

I'm super-bummed out because I missed trick or treating with the fellas tonight because I'm sick in bed with a bad cold  :(

At least I have memories of years past.

And, of course, maybe my greatest post of all-time: COUNT JACKULA!

Halloween Memories III

From 2008:

Here in Corporate America, everyone’s having fun laughing at the costumes some of the people have worn today. There are some “stars” of the office who with their lavish, loud costumes are getting all the attention and laughs as they bray about the office. But my heart is breaking for the girl in the cubicle in the corner that has a simple pair of mouse ears on her head and ain’t nobody talking to her. Dang.

UPDATE: 2:08PM. Just noticed she took the ears off. :(

UPDATE: 2:28PM. Now she's going around the office handing out cookies to everybody. There is no justice in this world.

UPDATE: 2:32PM. I took two. Poor thing.

Halloween Memories II

From 2007:

There is no movie scarier than The Omen (the original, obviously.) The score alone sends me sprinting around turning on every light in the house shriekinjg "lord jesus, jesus lord save me jesus!!!" while my eyes roll in the back of my head. No, wait - that's when I walk up to the Pizza Hut buffet for the first time. My other horror slices are Jaws, The Shining and The Amityville Horror. I've always wanted to watch Nesferatu, I know what would make me shit myself. Maybe next year.

I see that at 4 o 'clock today Roger Corman's "The Fall of the House of Usher" is coming on - both the short story and movie are Xmastime slices o'slices. But I remember coming home from church one time, I reckon near Halloween, and my brother, father and I landed on some random made for tv version. I believe it was 1982, which would make ten years old.

I have never, ever been so scared in my life - while watching I literally BEGGED my dad and brother to turn the channel - even offering them money!! Gee, what good times...apparently I had disposable income to throw around. I mean, I was terrified. And I couldn't leave - no WAY I was gonna go be by myself. Way too terrified. And mind you, this was at about one o'clock in the afternoon. Broad daylight.

I remember going to bed later on and I was literally shaking so badly my brother yelled at me cause I was shaking the whole bunkbed. Wow. Unreal. Would love to track down a copy of this flick. I'm sure now it's prolly laughable now, but jesus I was terrified.

Halloween Memories

The whole "poisoning kids on Halloween" thingee is busted HERE as fiction, not fact.

But of course I already had that figured out four years ago today:

Lookin forward to tonite, my first Halloween in 20 years that i can enjoy with KIDS instead of getting shit-faced hitting on chicks in their drawers pretending to be a squirrel. Can we get an official number of women that were "horrified" by Monica Lewinsky yet snapped their ankles in half sprinting to dress up as her for Halloween? And does anyone know anyone who knows anyone who actually got the 'ol razor in the apple? Seems like if anyone pulled that on a kid he'd get busted - seriously, if some asshole tried to pass an apple off on you during trick or treating, you'd fucking remember who it was, no? And what kid came home, dumped out his bag of candy on the table and immediately reached over the piles of Snickers and candy corn to shove an APPLE into his mouth? Who's this Poindexter? I would think you'd eventually SEE a razor since by the time you had gorged on your loot the damn thing woulda rotted away. "Oh look, there's a razor in this apple."

Anyways, this is the most excited about a Halloween since the first year I went as "The 7-Up Dot", my freshman year of college. Was a hit then and for the next 3 years. I believe the axiom is "Don't fix what ain't broke, especially if it's directly responsible for a blowjob in the bathroom." And I will make a point to remember to use "Poindexter" more in the future!

Sad Day in Camelot

Slice Info

First Visit by the Great Pumpkin

It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown was first broadcast on October 27, 1966, on CBS (it pre-empted My Three Sons). It was nominated for an Emmy award and has been re-broadcast every year during the Halloween season since. Charles Shulz was pleased with the positive response to his cartoon with one exception: thanks to Charlie Brown’s trick-or-treat lament “I got a rock,” bags and boxes and mountains of candy were forwarded to his studio from all over the world earmarked for Charlie Brown. The Great Pumpkin TV special was, of course, inspired by Schulz’s daily comic strip; the first mention of the benevolent Halloween gift-bringer was mentioned in the October 26, 1959, Peanuts strip.

via here. 

Me.

I do not like tomatoes on my sandwiches. But I like tomato sandwiches.

Hmm. I am one enigmatic, sexy motherfucker. A riddle in dungarees.

No Bruce?

I am less surprised Bruce wasn't at the Jon Stewart rally because he's spent a lot of time at liberal rallies over the past few years as I am because Stewart's from New Jersey.

Awesome.

You wrote The Shining. And Salem's Lot. And Christine. And Pet Sematary. You've scared the shit out of over 500 million people, one book at a time. And yet you're still not the scariest dude alive named "Steve King." Incroiable!

Rep. Steve King has a theory: Under legalized gay marriage, children would be raised collectively in "warehouses," a la Ancient Sparta, effectively ending civilization.

Stewart Rally

Just like a Springsteen concert, there appears to be more black people onstage than in the crowd. Zing!

WHEN WILL THE GODDAM GOP HIRE ME?!?!?!?!?!?  :)

Oh Oh.

About ten minutes ago I flipped to the Jon Stewart/Colbert rally sanity thing, and John Legend was onstage. I just now flipped back, and he's still there. If the whole three hours is John Legend singing about hard times, we're fucked.

BREAKING NEWS!!!

Sarah Palin doesn't believe in religion and thinks man is descended from apes!!!!


Gee. It's almost as if Sniffy had no idea who Darrow was, but, just like when someone mouths "Reagan" or "Hatcher" to her, she nods her head like a fucking retard who has never read a goddam book in her life and copies/pastes whatever tropes some intern gives her. But gee, THAT can't be true, right?

Sniffy. Incredibly, even dumber than I had fucking thought. Wow.

Hold Up. Hoooooold the Fuck Up.

Sniffy? Pro Clarence Darrow? Is this an internet prank?

A Celebration.

It was 15 years ago this month I bought my Telecaster (pictured above.) I bought it in Memphis for $900. Gee. That's paid for itself.

Anyway, I'll be sharing my favorite memories of this guitar for the rest of the month.

April 2003: melting some faces with my fretwork, electricity turns off. Shrug, think fuck it, that's the show, they're making us stop. Go to the bar, drink a beer. Think "hey, I know that song..." Realize the power was back on, the rest of my band was playing. Casually strolled back onstage, played Summer of '69.

Sigh.

Question.

Jimmy Carter was first elected president 34 years ago, and is still alive. Is that a record?

I know Bush 41 is at 22 years, but I think he and Carter were born in the same year, so I doubt he's gonna pass him. Interesting.

I suppose Clinton has a chance, he's already at 18 years and is only 64. But is this a title that belongs to single-term (non-dying in office, of course) presidents?

Aires

It's probably somewhat arguable, but John D. "Ballsweat" Rockefeller is generally seen as the nation's first billionaire. Who will be our first trillionaire? And if it's me, will my high school girlfriend finally decide it's time to stop "seeing other people"?

A New Low in the Search for Stupidity

Tom whatshisface, making absolutely no sense:

TANCREDO: It is an attitude that you see all the time. Yes, I spent 10 years in Congress. I could certainly see it there. There is a sort of an elitist idea that seeps into the head of a lot of people who get elected. And they begin to think of themselves as, really, there for only one purpose and that is to make laws. And why would you make laws? Well, because you know, better than anybody else what to do.

Of course this is just the latest, lowest attempt to patronize incredibly stupid people for whom the word "elite" has come to mean "somebody who might be smarter than a mouth-breathing, illiterate dumbfuck like myself, which means eff them since it's very important to only let people as dumb as me run the country so I can feel good about myself."

YES, lawmakers are supposed to try to...MAKE LAWS. And yes, I would like to presume that any member of Congress is better at making laws than, say, Zippy the night clerk at Wal-Mart, or myself.  I suppose if Joe the Plumber would show up at Tancredo's ouse to fix his toilet, Trancedo would be indignant re: "who does this guy think he is?!?!?!?!"

The very people dipshit here is trying to land political "who do they think they are, even though I was once one of them, and of course tried to run for president, and would do anything in my power to become one of them again!" points with should be the ones greatly offended he is assuming they're so stupid, but of course shit like that works on the people who fall for the "government is worthless, vote me in!" crowd. I think that if-.....heeeey, wait a minute. Turns out Tancredo is part of the "get paid to do nothing gang":

Similarly, many Republicans running for Congress are actively pushing the idea of a government shutdown if they don’t get what they want. Powerful Tea Party-allied Sen. Jim DeMint (R-SC) even said recently, “This idea that government has to do something is not a good idea. So I think the less we do, the better.”

Dude. Nobody's more of a lazy fucker than me. And am I seeing that I can get paid $169,300 a year for not only DOING nothing, but DOING NOTHING IS WHY PEOPLE WOULD VOTE FOR ME??? For $169K???!!?!?

I'm Xmastime. I'm running for Congress on the GOP ticket. Vote for me, and I promise not to get out of bed for two years. I was gonna approve this ad, but I just told you, I ain't doing shit!  You're welcome!

Peep Show

I have never watched this show, but when I read "I like to think of it as being like a more warped version of Seinfeld, if the show was presented from inside George Costanza’s brain." you know for damn sure that I run to put in in my "queue."

The Curious Case of Sniffy

Long, long ago I knew that even if I thought it was bullshit I had to give up crying and moaning like a baby and accept the "results" of the 2000 presidential election. Bush was our president, and that wasn't going to change no matter how many times I shook my fists at the sky.

But I have NEVER forgiven Al Gore, MY guy, The Prince of Tennessee, for losing fucking Tennessee. To say nothing of it being the difference in the outcome, but...to lose your own fucking state? Which your own father also represented in Congress for 32 fucking years? Are you fucking kidding me?

This has come into my mind because of Sarah Palin (of course.) One interesting thing I find myself reading again and again is how much people living in Alaska HATE HER FUCKING GUTS. If she ran for president, who knows what states she'd win, but from what I can tell my left nut has a better chance of winning Alaska than she would. Every newspaper/media outlet in Alaska seems to be incredulous beyond belief at how seriously people in the rest of the country take her, and within each concentric circle you hit that's closer to her, the more hatred there is for her. ANYONE in the state that has actually come in contact with her seems to want to scream to the rest of us about what an awful, awful person she is. The entire state is one colelctive "are you motherfuckers out of your goddam minds?"

That's very interesting to me. And of course we're now seeing time and time again, the Palin Model prescribes letting as few people as possible find out as little about you as is humanly possible. Which makes perfect sense when you realize that while it's possible she could win 49 states, there's no way in hell she'd win the one that knows her best.

KNOW FEAR. (hot, sexy, prolly loves assplay fear, but fear nonetheless.)

Soup for Halloween

One of my all-time favorite Halloween literary memories is from my slice Soup & Me:

Take this passage, where Soup is convincing Rob to steal a prize pumpkin from a neighbor's patch:

I looked where he pointed, and sure enough, there was the biggest old pumpkin in the whole State of Vermont. I wanted to say something, but the words that came to mind just weren't big enough or orange enough to fit the size.
 
"That's some vegetable." said Soup.
 

"You know Soup...if God were to carve a jack-o-lantern, that there is the one pumpkin he'd pick."

Soup uses his influence to talk Rob into loading that jumbo pumpkin into a wheelbarrow, with the ultimate goal of arriving with it at the church Halloween party looking like a couple of heroes. Unfortunately the church is at the bottom of a very steep hill, and you can probably guess that even though everything doesn't go to plan, they still end up making one memorable entrance.

Oh, Soup...the Zack Morris of the 1930s!!

Credit Where Credit's Due

TweetSniffy:

Hey, at least she knows what the "Obama Doctrine" is!

Halloween. Sexy Because of Gays!

The "Halloween is an excuse for chicks to release their inner sluts" memé has become as old and tired as Halloween being an excuse for chicks to release their inner sluts, but THIS ARTICLE HERE gives us a little history, and gives credit for this movement's start to the gays.

Thanks, gays!!! :)

I guess that squares us on the whole "why 9/11 happened" thing.

Also, I feel like this is the first Halloween I've noticed businesses posting "Holiday Hours." Wtf? This seems odd, no? "Please respect our employees need to get off in time to go home, change into their Ultra-Sexy Laura Ingalls as prairie slut costume and pass out candy corn to little fuckwads while guzzling enough Jaegar to make them forget that Half-Pint would never, EVER do a threesome with Almonzo and Nels." But then, what the fuck do I know - all I did on a cold Saturday morning a quarter of a century ago as a 7th grader was wander into the wrong math contest that was meant for people in college and STILL kicked everybody's ass, so why should you listen to little ol' me?

An Iguana Farting in a Bathtub.

What more can you say?

Consistency.

I guess Sniffy is pissed off that someone brought up Joe Miller's military service during a debate.

During the contentious debate earlier this week, Murkowski asked Miller, "What would your instructors, what would your classmates at West Point say about how well you have lived up to your code of honor?"

But at the rally Thursday night, Palin indicted the "lame-stream media" for not fully conveying Miller's record of military service.

"I read his resumé, I read his accomplishments, I read his passion for America and I think, 'Are we even fit to tie his combat boots?'" she asked. "You are not getting the truth from the left, and you are not getting the truth from the lame-stream media about the real Joe Miller," she added, noting Miller served in the Gulf War and was awarded a Bronze Star."

Perfectly valid, since I'm sure she pitched a shit-fit when John Kerry's military service was swift-boated.

Goals. I Have Them.

To open up a restaurant that serves only Stove Top stuffing.


Christ, who the fuck do I think I am? I still haven't changed the landscape of super gonzo scat porno, and already I'm thinking about a restaurant? Christ. Me and my fucking ego. Rein it in, asshole.

"Ills Hazzanaddah One, Barskeeeepah!!"

Interesting.

Linus: "You don't believe the story of the Great Pumpkin? I thought little girls always believed everything that was told to them. I thought little girls were innocent and trusting."

When guidance counselor Van Pelt gets banned from the US school system, this will be the moment we all look back on and say "dammit, didn't we see this coming?"

The Great Blumpkin (Heh Heh Heh)

I could watch any Peanuts classic on a loop. Which is surprising, since they always seem to make me angry. Hmm.

Hey, remember back when I used to be funny?  Sigh.

Superslice That's On Right Now

Monday, September 06, 2010

It's the Gay Pumpkin, Charlie Brown

Nobody's lips are moving. Are they just staring into each other's eyes? Really?

Headscratching, Plus a Furry Snatch

I'd love to hit it myself so I'm enjoying the "I banged Christine O'Donnell" story like everybody else, but I'm curious as to how a story can gain so much traction and be taken so seriously when the author is anonymous. Can't I just type up some shit about banging Sniffy (Lil Sniffs filmed!) and sit back and enjoy my fame and newfound credence?

Also, I'm saddened that the insane batshit woman = wild in the sack thing is apparently a myth   :(

Oh, Shizzle Mys Nizzle!

I am about to become Hannah Montana's stepfather!!!!

 

Same Shit, Different Year.

As we speak I am toggling between

THIS

THIS

THIS

and

THIS.

Fucking christ.

"Reality" Tv

The thing about watching Keeping Up with the Kardashians is it's pretty impossible to not find yourself screaming at the television "Dude - you're Bruce fucking Jenner!! What the fuck are you doing????"

I'll Never Have a Kid of My Own

But I feel like this is by far the greatest "oh my god, there's a reason I'm alive, and it's because of my kid!" song there is.

In My Slim Defense

Years ago on Bra Day I wrote:

February 2, 1988: Lora Combs every day for a week while we watched some series of films in English class let me feel her up the whole time. Learned another lesson: was told “you shouldn’t ask, just do it” to the question of “can I go inside your bra?” 

Here's Lora at my 20th reunion. She's kept an even better figure than in high school. I shoulda taken her seriously  :)

Re-Post for No Reason

Other than Charles Barkley is the funniest person ever born.

Gravi-loss

Karl Rove has come out and said Sniffy lacks the gravitas to be the President.

This is funny for two reasons. One, I look forward to the eye-rolling "Rove is part of the lamestream media" snark from Tweetzilla that should be coming any minute now.

Secondly, Rove didn't seem to mind his puppet Bush lacking the appropriate gravitas for the job. Hmm.

Great Cover

of my superslice!  :)

Must Say.

It's not that The Blues Brothers is a bad movie choice for Illinois, but I'm a little surprised that one of the 9 million John Hughes flicks set in the state wasn't chosen.

(also, I love Groundhog Day, but Deerhunter just FEELS more "Pennsylvania.")

(Wait...Rocky? What's more Philly than Rocky?)

(I like how Hawaii's is a flick about a buncha Japs attacking....Hawaii.  Hahaha - FUCK YOU, Obama!  Shoulda stayed in Kenya!!)

February 9, 1958:

The last day anyone ever saw Larry Bird smile.

Question.

How come when it's inside your head it's "brain", but the second it leaves it's cozy confines it becomes plural?

"Say, what's going on in the great big brain of yours right now?"


"Wear a helmet, or you'll crash and your goddam brains will be splattered all over the place, you dirty fucking pig."

Sure there may be different PIECES of your brain scattered, but it's still ONE brain, n'est-pas?

Sigh. I am one sexy, inquisitive motherfucker.

Drop a Dollah for a Scholah (I Just Made that Up!!!!!!)

Word Nerd (see blogroll to the right) has had four of her poems published in a magazine, so go HERE and buy it!

I wonder how many of the poems are about her ex-boyfriend Big Bear, who dumped her rather unceremoniously a few months ago...    ;)

Well. This is Somewhat Awesome.

Also: The Shining!  :)


 

  Jaws in 30 seconds with bunnies.
- Watch more Videos at Vodpod.

Today in Brooklyn.

I wonder if some asshole is gonna lose his shit and become a celebrity.

Xmastime Hath Decreed.

I'm officially rooting for the Giants to win the World Series.

First of all, fuck Cliff Lee. Yes, he's become Mr. Postseason, but I'm sick of hearing about how he's Matthewson x Beckett x Sandy fucking Koufax x that fucking kid in the movie where he has some weird bionic arm and Gary Busey was his (surprise) creepy coach on the Cubs.  And fuck that dumbass wife of his too. Yeah, I'm sure when he sees that the Yankees will pay him about $50 billion more than any other shitkicker team he'll turn them down since some fans were spilling beer around his whore wife. Yes, when you're the starting pitcher's wife, I'm sure the Yankees stick you in the middle of some goddam toga party of fucking schlubs in the bleachers. Fuck you; you'll probably be watching the games from a goddam space shuttle carved out of fucking gold. No no, I'm sure he'll go to the Royals for fucking $12 an hour so his wife can sit in the stands with nice people playing fucking canasta or some dumb shit. Maybe they'll put together a fucking comedy improv group. Fuck you!

And fuck Josh Hamilton too - I hope someone slips some goddam booze into his O'Douls so he goes fucking bananas and ass-rapes Cliff fucking Lee in front of his fucking kids.

Mostly, I want the Giants to win for this guy.

Where I Am At in This Thing Called Life.

While waiting to pick up The Short Bus from school, I actually hit on a pregnant woman. I honestly thought to myself, "hey, no wedding ring."  Man.


"Smooth move, dickhead!"

New Name I Am Giving Myself

"Charlie Shark"

Aaaargh, matey!!

I'll say this: if you're going to be such a fucking dickhead that you claim that living on $21 of food stamps for a week is "too darn comfortable," at least have the decency to be wearing an eyepatch.

Hope your eyeball wasn't sucked out by an AIDS monster, fuckface!!

One Thing I Don't Miss About Being a Manny

No matter what sippy cup I pick out it's the wrong one, and of course the one he insists on having, the fucking top is nowhere to be goddam found. Grrr.

Eulogy for the Hipster (RIP 1999-2009)

The New Yorker tries to puts it's finger on What Was the Hipster?


Basically, co-opted art as commodity:

Of course, there are artists of hipster-related sensibility who remain artists. In the neighborhoods, though, there was a feeling throughout the last decade that the traditional arts were of little interest to hipsters because their consumer culture substituted a range of narcissistic handicrafts similar enough to sterilize the originals. One could say, exaggerating only slightly, that the hipster moment did not produce artists, but tattoo artists, who gained an entire generation’s arms, sternums, napes, ankles, and lower backs as their canvas. It did not produce photographers, but snapshot and party photographers: Last Night’s Party, Terry Richardson, the Cobra Snake. It did not produce painters, but graphic designers. It did not yield a great literature, but it made good use of fonts. And hipsterism did not make an avant-garde; it made communities of early adopters.

Previous hipster zing HERE.


OOOOOH, AN EXCUSE TO POST MY SLICE!!  :)

ATTENTION CANOE COLOGNE:

Get dressed. We're going to work.

Wit & Wisdom

The Roger Sterling book...IT'S REAL!!!!  :)

"When God closes a door, he opens a dress."

Kenfucky (I Just Made That Up!!!)

People are giving some Rand Paul worker in Kentucky a lot of shit for stepping on some chick's head and now demanding an apology for her putting her head in the way of his foot as he was stomping the ground. I don't know what the big deal is - 18 years ago, Christian Laettner stepped on some Kentucky dude's chest, and then hit the greatest last-second shot in NCAA Tournament history. So what's the problem?

Decoys. Fascinating.

I find it very interesting that the people who hid their racism by wringing their hands claiming they couldn't vote for Obama because "gee, I just don't KNOW him, I don't know anything ABOUT him, gee, I wish I knew more about him..." etc etc are the exact same people who are very comfortable with candidates going to great lengths to let people know as little about themselves as possible, including using decoys to evade the media. Hmm.

Doesn't Naming a Catastrophe an "Event" Make it Somehow Creepier?

I walked around my loft a few years back with my hog ballz in my hand wondering about the Tunguska Event HERE. I will now pause to let you be startled by my brilliance (and let you ladies spin that pea.)

Anyways, I guess the reason for it* HAS BEEN SOLVED, thanks to observing the cloud plumes of the Space Shuttle.




* the Liberty Bell?!???!!

Cinematic Map du Jour

Remember the Titans!  :)

How great is it that Dick Cheney's state is represented by a coupla fags?  double :)!

Again: just fuck the sheep, fellas. Or THIS BEAR might getcha.

A Celebration.

It was 15 years ago this month I bought my Telecaster (pictured above.) I bought it in Memphis for $900. Gee. That's paid for itself.

Anyway, I'll be sharing my favorite memories of this guitar for the rest of the month.

April 1999: played an entire show at the Continental without realizing my amp had been turned off the entire time.

Sigh.

Oh My God...That Stereotype is True?

Elite Me.

Some complete fucking fucktard HERE has been making the rounds this week with an asinine article trying to claim that the key to be an "elite" member of society is not only KNOWING the right books and tv shows, but also NOT knowing the right books and tv shows. Seems like an awesome guy, perfectly at home at both the Elks Club and the other, even more exclusive Elks Club.

Anyways, someone put together an How Elite Are You? quiz HERE.  I present you with my answers:

1. Can you talk about "Mad Men?" Yes.
2. Can you talk about the "The Sopranos?" Yes.
3. Do you know who replaced Bob Barker on "The Price Is Right?" Yes.
4. Have you watched an Oprah show from beginning to end? Yes.
5. Can you hold forth animatedly about yoga? No.
5. How about pilates? No.
5. How about skiing? No.
6. Mountain biking? No.
7. Do you know who Jimmie Johnson is? Yes.
8. Does the acronym MMA mean nothing to you? No.
9. Can you talk about books endlessly? Yes.
10. Have you ever read a "Left Behind" novel? No.
11. How about a Harlequin romance? No.
12. Do you take interesting vacations? No.
13. Do you know a great backpacking spot in the Sierra Nevada? No.
14. What about an exquisite B&B overlooking Boothbay Harbor? No.
15. Would you be caught dead in an RV? Yes.
16. Would you be caught dead on a cruise ship? No.
17. Have you ever heard of of Branson, Mo? Yes.
18. Have you ever attended a meeting of a Kiwanis Club? No.
19. How about the Rotary Club? No.
20. Have you lived for at least a year in a small town? Yes.
21. Have you lived for a year in an urban neighborhood in which most of your neighbors did not have college degrees? Yes.
22. Have you spent at least a year with a family income less than twice the poverty line? Yes.
23. Do you have a close friend who is an evangelical Christian? Yes.
24. Have you ever visited a factory floor? No.
25. Have you worked on one? Yes.

Hmm. Well. This was fucking pointless.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Your 2010 Dallas Cowboys

You Might Not Have Been Born to Run

If the guy that donates $2400 to your campaign is the one who gets his picture in the article instead of you.

Hmm. This is Interesting.

Satan and some little girl from The Babysitter's Club are on the same list. And Satan comes out as more likable.

Helpless.

People who can't give up drinking or smoking yet sneer that fat people need to "just quit fucking eating like a pig" should read this.

The feeling of despair and helplessness to stop doing something you know is going to kill you is not exclusive to things that are sexy, like heroin or coke.

Well. This Seems Fairly Amazing.

An all-sky picture from the darkest sky on the planet:

There’s so much going on here it’s hard to know where to start. Basically, Stéphane wanted to get the darkest sky possible for this shot. So he went to the Atacama desert in Chile, not far from the Paranal observatory. At that latitude, and at that time of year, the Milky Way — usually seen as a band of light across the sky — circles the horizon! That glow you see around the picture is not from cities or anything else like that, it’s from the galaxy itself.

Sigh.

It just don't feel like Halloween. I don't really know why. I guess it feels like Christmas with no snow right now. Ah well.

Well. This is Curious.

I just finished eating my first ever flatbread sandwich from Subway. Interestingly enough, I am no closer to understanding what the fuck flatbread is than I was 10 minutes ago.

My Befuddled Life.

On two separate occassions yesterday while walking home I stopped upon seeing a large group of people gathered together looking in the same direction and wondered "hey, what's everybody looking at?" And both times, after about a minute, I realized "oh....this is a bus stop."

Sigh.

Oh No - Divorce? What Happened??!?!?! :(

J'ACCUSE!!!!!

JANUARY JONES
Crime: hiding those awesome titties from us all these years on Mad Men. Had me fooled until I saw Pirate Radio. Bitch.

Today's Goals

1. Continue my drunk streak to at least 52 hours.

Super Slice

Slice of Slices

Music from People I Love

Incredibly, he's even nicer in real life :)

Funeral Slice

Pledge.

One day I will be stripped down to my bones.
I will be ripped of flesh, and nothing but sinew and bone.

And yes, I will be better than you. I'm sorry - you're nothing, you are;
I am cutting you loose so that I can take off my coat.

I am ready to fucking explode.

Woof, Again.

After spending $19B, the Pentagon's best bomb detectors are still dogs.

Drones, metal detectors, chemical sniffers, and super spycams — forget ‘em. The leader of the Pentagon’s multibillion military task force to stop improvised bombs says there’s nothing in the U.S. arsenal for bomb detection more powerful than a dog’s nose.

This seems to come up every year, to which I always shrug my shoulders totally unsurprised and recommend that anybody involved read the wonderful book Always Faithful. 

We could've put that $19B towards trying to figure out why every woman in America is under the impression that the Doors were a better band than The Beatles. Come the fuck on, people.

There Is No Justice in This World.

The Village Voice just put out it's annual "Best of" issue, including it's Top Food Picks which, AGAIN, doesn't include my Chef Boyardee Ravioli Lasagna.

Fuck you, hippies!!!

Honest Restaurant Signs

More HERE.

Alton Brown

We all know I loves me some Alton Brown, so here's 5 Interesting Things You Didn't Know About Him.  I love his line about finally graduating from Georgia:

Brown eventually graduated in 2004, 19 years after thinking he’d dropped out of school. The school eventually changed the core curriculum so that fourth-quarter language classes were no longer required, which cleared the way for the now-famous Brown to finally graduate. Brown later told the Athens-Banner Herald, “I outlasted the high standards of the university.”

HAPPY BIRFDAY

Watty!  :)

sniff snifff...memories!

Ob-La-Dumbass

It wouldn't make my single-record version of The White Album so I can't say it's a slice of mine, but I just noticed something funny about Glass Onion.

I told you about the walrus and me-man
You know that we're as close as can be-man.
Well here's another clue for you all,
The walrus was Paul.

That's not a "clue." That's just telling us something. A doctor finding fecal matter in a midget prostitute's throat is a clue, not her telling him "I gave Xmastime $100 to shit in my mouth."

Stupid English fop.

Question.

How the fuck long are they gonna make me wait for a Ratatouille sequel? Wtf?

I Love John Lewis

Even if found here.

Oh My God.

If you're wondering why you've continued the act of living, this is it.

Happy Birthday Penny Marshall!

Today is Tom Petty's 60th birthday. Petty is an odd sort because it's hard to find someone passionate enough to go crazy and flip a table over arguing about how great he is, and it's just as hard to find someone to go crazy and flip a table over arguing how much he sucks. His music is "yeah, that's fine" personified. As I wrote HERE:

I just watched about an hour of a Penny Marshall Tom Petty concert on tv. It's a weird show to watch; it's an endless series of "Hey, I know that song. That's a good song." But there's no GREAT songs, there's no "ohmygod" moments. I mean, at a Bruce show you know you can take a piss break during the 57-minute middle of Mary's Place, but there's no way in hell you're missing the breakdown on Badlands. At the Petty show, every minute could be a piss break or not a piss break, it never seems to matter.

I will say this. You couldn't pay me to sit through a Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers album, but back during the first semester of my senior year of high school, I wore the fuck outta Full Moon Fever in my 1978 Ford Fiesta.

Wow.

Callin' Bullshit.

A reader calls Sully out on his lazy, thoughtless comparison of Palin to Nixon.

Say what you will about Nixon, but he came from absolutely nothing and for decades outworked, out-studied, out-hustled and outsmarted everyone else. In other words, the exact OPPOSITE of Tricky Sniffy. While it's safe to say that once he got into office he was incredibly destructive for the country and became the poster boy for the corruption of power (or the power of corruption), there are few people in history who were more qualified than Nixon to become president based on intellect and experience.

Xmastime Restaurant Review: The Pies N Thighs Chicken Biscuit

Yesterday being Mickey Mantle's birthday got me thinking of the many similarities there are between The Mick and me. For one, his birthday is 10/20, meaning the date is double the month just as my own 7/14 is. Fucking spooky, right? And you know how obsessed I am with 8/16.  Even the Jews got into the act back in the day, when on 12/24 a Jewish chick with the most gullible husband in the world ("it was God, he got me drunk!") started to go into labor to pop out a certain little shit that would one day give us Jerry Falwell, pedophilia and, worse, Catholicism.

Of course the one negative is 11/22 in Dallas when that whore Jackie O. couldn't bother to take a bullet for her husband (it's called a wedding vow, people...to love and PROTECT!!!...what is with wives - Jackie, Yoko...bullets are chivalrous? Repelled by estrogen? Wtf?) Although on that same day C.S. Lewis died, so losing JFK's lady-killing coolness was at least equaled out by the loss of the dystopian hero of Nerd-dom.

Also, The Mick and I both played center field. Though to be honest, it's only fair that I point out Mickey played almost 2500 games for the most storied franchise in sports history and was elected to the Hall of Fame while being considered one of the greatest ballplayers ever, while I got pulled from center field in the middle of an inning, so. 

And to keep the "Oh my God, this is getting creepy they're so alike!!!!" going, Mickey was a notorious boozehound who plowed through half the women in the country, while I am notorious for plowing a truckload of vodka into women and dragging them back to my loft, dead or alive  banging a girl in the Dairy Queen bathroom.

But what really got me thinking about The Mick's birthday is I decided to finally try Pies N Thighs' famous chicken biscuit, which I've been drooling over for awhile now since reading it was named "Best Sandwich in New York City," and, just like the Mick, is 1) white  2) All-American  3) known to make grown men cry.

I hadn't been to Pies N Thighs since it re-opened on South 4th Street after closing down for two years; I went once back when it was on Kent Ave, but mostly from that I remember sitting outide next to the dumpster to eat, so I was very pleased to walk in and be hit with an indrebly distintive smell that even an amateur shnozz can discern to bea perfect mix of hot biscuits, fried batter and pies cooling on a windowsill.

I walk in and right away the waitress is on me, and I tell her I know what I want: the chicken biscuit. The next 60 seconds goes like this:

XMASTIME: can I have it without the sauce?
HER: without the honey butter and hot sauce? Really?
Well....is it more honey than butter, or more butter?
Oh, it's definately a lot of sweet, sweet honey. (places hand on table and leans over. Helly, Titty.)
Ahhhh...okay, sure...keep the honey butter on.
How bout the hot sauce? Camon, you gotta have the hot sauce.
Oh, I dunno...I don't really like hot sauce.
Well, it's really vinegar-y. It's not TOO hot. But yeah, (Leans over more. Makes sure I'm looking right down her shirt) it's hot.
Ahhhh...ummm....not TOO hot?
Oh, it's hot. JUST hot enough. You can handle it. (still peeping.)
Hey, you know what, ahhhhh, sure...hot sauce too.
Great! (straightens up, spins around and heads back to place order.)

After about 30 seconds the blood goes back to my head and I become slightly chagrined that my order has been changed thanks to some Jedi Boob Trick, so I say "fuck this!" and start to rise up to go tell her NO honey butter and NO hot sauce when she senses I'm standing up and spins back around to face me from 20 feet away. Like Pecos Bill about to draw his six-shooter she cocks her eyebrows up as if to say "are you fucking kidding me?" I freeze, crouched over my chair, and slowly her eyes drop down to her chest, pulling my ass back down to my seat as if attached to her eyelids. Fuck!

The wait was long. I feel like twenty minutes is too long for such a simple order. I understand I'd be suspicious if it came back out in thirty seconds, but still, twenty minutes feels long. Luckily, and I must give them credit here, the radio was tuned to Little Steven's Underground Garage, so at least I got to hear shit like Psychotic Reaction and the Dave Clark Five, which is a huge improvement over the last "authentic-looking, roadside Southern dive" diner I went to, Union Picnic, who assualted the senses with some fucking techno Williamsburtg house music crap. Ugh. You can't try to sell me on "Mama's real collards" to the sounds of some Japanese import-only Yeah Yeah Yeahs instrumental b-side.

Finally it came, and just in picking it up I could tell this was the best biscuit I've ever fucking had. Just the right feel of dusty grease, and a crispy shell that yields into a soft pillow of fluffy inside. I immediately thanked the waitress for using her titties to convince me to go with the butter/hot sauce. This is the best biscuit I've ever had (although I wouldn't mind a taste-off with Bojangles.)

The chicken was..I don't wanna say "disappointing," but it was completely overshadowed by the biscuit. It wasn't very thick, plus it was scalding hot so instead of enjoying it I just tried to get through it. I can't say I liked the chicken more than on the wildly surprisingly good KFC Double Down. To my own shock I found myself soaking up all the butter and hot sauce that had pooled onto my plate.

Since I'm planning on losing 50lbs by Christmas I can't be hitting this joint every day, but next time I'll get the fried chicken and biscuits box. Maybe some butter/hot sauce on the side. Of course, that waitress will prolly "convince" me to get sliced tofu doo-doo nuggets instead, so what the fuck do I know.

Here's a picture of a dog watching some guy piss into a paper bag as I'm walking in. Sweet.

You, Kid, are Correct.

Finally. A Deli That Gets Me.

Wanna Grow Up to Be a Debaser

Apparently The Pixies are celebrating last year being the 20th anniversary of the release of Doolittle by offering fans a free live album.

Doolittle is a great album. For one, at that point it was the only album I had ever bought sight unseen, never even having heard of the band. More importantly, it's the album I bought when this happened.

Nom nom nom!!!

John McCain

is apparently no longer the oldest motherfucker in the universe.

Sorry, dickhead!

Happy Birthday, Mick

Maybe he'll bring some luck to the Bronx today.

I don’t want to remember him as a womanizer and teller of dirty jokes, but as the man who would go out of his way to help a teammate or a friend.

I don’t want to remember Mickey Mantle as a drunk who came to plate and hit a home run.  I want to remember him as a great hitter who came limping to the plate in pain and hit a home run, and as he crossed the plate, saw blood ooze from his leg.

That’s my kind of hero. - Mark Skousen

Perspective. It's a Funny Thing.

A few years back HERE I brilliantly wrote:

1) Big Ben’s big accident yesterday reminded me that a few weeks ago Dubya met with the Steelers at the White House to congratulate them on the Super Bowl victory. Dumbass couldn’t even make it through this little playful ceremony without saying something completely inane:

About halfway through the season, some people were counting the Steelers out, Bush said.
"They said you didn't have a chance," Bush deadpanned. "I kind of know the feeling."

Cause yeah, if you’re born into an amazingly rich and powerful family, get into Yale even though you MIGHT be retarded, get handed a Major League Baseball team, have the keys to the White House while your dad is vice-president/president for 12 years, and then get handed the presidency even though you might not have actually won, I guess it’s natural to feel like the deck’s stacked against you. Poor guy.

And now we see Dubyanuts coming out with this one in a speech:

Bush said he misses certain aspects of the presidency.

“I miss being pampered."

Yeah. Must've been tough on him, having to go back to his hard-scrabble, Joad-esque pre-2000 life.

Sigh. Oh, George. You deluded, simple, dumb motherfucker. At moments like this, I DO miss you.

That Sound You Hear Right Now

;..is millions of chowderheads up by Fenway siding with Bin Ladin:

LeRogue, who changed his name from Joe Rogan, also carried a photograph of terrorist mastermind Osama bin laden, calling him his 'master' and vowing: 'I will serve you.'

First of all, is Grim LeRogue the greatest name ever?

But more to the point, he gets this shit wrong:

And he also allegedly had a photograph of A-Rod on which he had scrawled an X across his face and drawn a gun pointed at his head.

'You have to go bud, you've ruined too many of our white queens,' was also written on the image.

Since, as we remember, the MVP of the World Series last year was the remarkably unsexy but white Kate Hudson!

Yearbook Autograph from 1987

To Larry Byrd,

Don't let this go to your head but you're a descent basketball player. Maybe some of it rubber of me.

Partners,
________

Album du 1987

More 1987

In one of today's creepier coincidences, someone else is pining for 1987:  13 Nostalgia-Heavy Commercials To Make You Pine For 1987.

Including, whaddya know, Dick Vitale before he was a fucking cartoon, as I wistfully wrote HERE.

Today's "5 Minutes with Beverly Hills 90210"

More 1987

Sigh.

Most albums I love somehow remind me of fall or winter, and this is the only album I've ever loved that reminds me of burnt, dead summer grass in 98 degree heat. Summer of 1987, my first summer of freedom (my brother having gotten his license); thanks mostly to RRTHUR and a tape of "Burning Ambitions", I without a doubt found more amazing songs and bands that I still love today during that summer than any 3-month stretch before or since. First summer I hung out at French's parking lot. One of only 2 sophomores to make varsity that year, I can still feel what a thrill it was when the Northern Neck football preview came out in the paper and Coach Lewis took 2 paragraphs to talk aboput how good I looked, the promise I held. Summer my brother and I started working on the horse farm. Boy. I promise you I have never had a summer that good since. Ah well.

1987

I feel like being sad and mopey today. I don't know why, maybe it's my time of the month. Fuck you if you don't like it.

ESPN has another series of old NFL photos, this time from 1987, which makes me all mopey and nostalgic since 1987 for some reason is romanticized in my head as a great year.

Oh Oh

I just noticed the Yankees game starts at 4:00. This has snuck up on me; I am not prepared for the Yankees season to possibly be over in 8 hours. This makes me very depressed.

Good Deeds

I'm always touched whenever Bruce doesn't let a show go by without demanding that people take food to their local food shelter, so it feels good to report on good things being done by people I know:

As part of the anniversary celebration, the store is holding Donation Days, in which customers can donate their accrued store incentives to local charities. For their purchases, customers earn "T-Bills," which are applied toward future discounts. From Oct. 21 to Oct. 24, customers can give those earned rewards to a local charity on the market's list. The store will cut checks to charities for the amounts donated. "Over the years, we've given well over $100,000," said Stewart.

BIG BEAR'S NEXT PROJECT!

What did dinosaurs taste like?

More like hawk meat than chicken. Many people have glibly suggested that a hunk of dinosaur flesh might have tasted like an oven stuffer. Birds taste a bit like crocodiles, they reason, and both are related to dinosaurs. (Birds are the direct descendants of dinosaurs, and crocodilians are their cousins.) But this simple logic is probably wrong. Countless factors determine the flavor of meat, including the composition of an animal's muscles, its eating habits, and its hormones. Based on the evolutionary tree, we might speculate that T. rex tasted more like poultry than, say, beef or pork. Its flavor would likely have been closer to that of a carnivorous bird—perhaps a hawk—than a chicken. 

 

Dang.

Mr. C has died  :(

And just the other day I was excited Happy Days was back on tv.  WHY DOES THIS SHIT ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME?!??!!?!?!?!