What did my brain just say?

I was in the store the other day and I noticed this young lady in the produce department and my brain said

"She'd be cute if it wasn't for her face"

wait, what?

So now my brain is all backtracking...

"what I meant is she has a cool sense of style as far as her clothes, the haircut is nice, she's got a nice body....but the face? Not so much"



Oh, and while we're in the supermarket?

Have you ever accidentally store-stalked someone? Every time you turn into a different isle that person is there? Then just when you start to feel weird about it you get to lets say the shampoo isle and you think "thank God I don't need shampoo, I can break this pattern of accidental-store-stalking"....and she's skipped the same damn isle and oh here we are together again....
and it's not like you can start talking to this person and explain away the accidental-store-stalking...
"hey looks like we have the same shopping rhythm. heh heh..." that will just confirm her suspicion that she is being followed around the store....
I had this happen to me the other day kind of....actually it was worse. I was at Whole Foods with Turbo (who is dangerously close to being re-nicknamed Slo-Mo)
I was standing 10 feet away from the car looking back waiting for him to get himself together and get out of the car.
On the other side of our car a young lady was loading groceries into her Jeep. I realized she was looking at me all of a sudden.
My first thought, "she has gorgeous hair"
My second thought "oh crap! she thinks I'm staring at her"
so I said "come on turbo lets go"
(a part of me wanted to yell something extremely expository like "come on Turbo, my blond haired son, get out of that blue Miata which is sitting next to the black Jeep")
Then 8 hours later we're at the supermarket by our house. (which is pretty much on the other side of town)
I'm intently trying to find the Perfect red bell pepper or something equally important. I glance up in time to see a woman walking in the door.
My first thought was "she has gorgeous hair"
My second thought was "oh crap! it's the girl from Whole Foods"
I then spent the rest of the shopping trip skulking about the store trying to avoid having this woman catch me.
It was harrowing.

It's a key card Muthafucka!

One of the blogs I routinely read is Defective Yeti. He recently wrote a post about
knives hidden in a keycard .
It got me thinking...that is the ultimate disguised weapon!
Think about other disguised weapons....the pen that shoots a .22 shell?
whatever.
If I'm getting into a beef with some guy and he whips out a pen and points it in my face? I'm all like "get that shit outa my face!" and swatting it to the ground.
The sword inside the cane?
A seemingly healthy guy with a cane? I'm already suspicious of that guy. I really don't want to have to go to the ER because some asshole hit me in the face with a brass duck or something. It would never even get to the point that he could use the sword hidden within.

But a key card? Damn that dude could cut my ass to ribbons!

Who carries key cards? Nerds and corporate drones, that's who.
My sister pointed out that they usually issue you a pair of khakis and a polo shirt with your key card.
Can you picture it? You're in a bar and some guy starts some trouble and you size him up and you notice the key card hanging from the lanyard around his next and you think, "oh I got this"
So you start giving it back, right?
He takes a hold of the key card, points it at you and right as you're about to say something cool like "what are you gonna do buzz me in?"
He SHANKS YA' !
You'd never see it coming!
You'd be in the emergency room babbling " he was like some kind of a Nerd Transformer!"

Nerds With Knives on the next Dateline

Degenerate car dogs

Car-dogs are a degenerate lot.
In the car buisness you don't have the finest collection of men that society has to offer. I was considered a bit of a freak because I ...GASP! ...read things?!
I had a habit of sitting at my desk drinking OJ and eating yoghurt , fruit and granola and perusing the local police log to find out who needed to be bailed out.
That sounds altruistic...almost.
In reality I had a scrapbook that I kept. If you got a DUI? You were in my book brother.
If somebody pulled a no-show-no-call?
First call was to the house, second call? The Jail.
none of them ever really hit the big time ...other than Dave, the kid who got shot in the head over a girl, and Glenn who stole a check for $15k that he was supposed to take to the credit union for a payoff and instead figured out a way to cash it and bet it on a 15-3 horse and lose.
That boy had a gambling problem...which made him a great guy to go to vegas with. Free rooms at the Bellagio and Luxor because your boy has a problem?
Ok.
Whatever. I helped him rake in a pile at our local indian casino, it's not my fault he couldn't stick to black jack and make safe money.
anyway.

Normally if a car-dog got caught up at the jail it was alcohol related.
DUI, bar fight etc.

One kid in particular stands out.
Derrick. He was a 21 year old full blown alcoholic. Raging. He showed up most mornings bleary and reeking of alcohol.
I'll be honest. I miss him. He was the kind of guy who never figured out that he was not nearly smart enough to start some trash talking with me. Consequently I had a lot of fun at his expense.
I really felt as if I should have tipped him on occasion, because of all the fun I had at his expense. He was gullible, if you scared him he would scream like a girl...just lots of fun to have around...

So Derrick somehow managed to hook up with Balloon Girl.
Balloon Girl was this really cute blond chick who was putting herself through college by appearing at events/benefits/parties/etc and twisting up these amazing balloon animals. You name it she could twist it.
I am not making this up. A film crew followed her around for nine months making a documentary about this hot blond that goes to balloon twisting competitions/conferences and oh by the way she is going to medical school...
right?
so Derrick somehow gets this vixen to like him...and he fucks it up by cheating on her with his scag of an ex girlfriend
"hey she gives good BJ's!"
fucking loser.
so he starts drinking harder than before and gets a DUI.
and Then his life goes shitty.
His best friend /roomate OD's.
He feels responsible because he wasn't there.
So now he is on a jag. He shows up trashed at a barbeque we are having. He bails to get some food?
" I don't want no fuckin' house burger!"....
and goes to Jack In The Box...
ok...
he is just sober enough to order...but not enough to pull around.
the crew at Jack's can't rouse him so they walk across the street to the firehouse and get some paramedics.
Three paramedics rocking his car manage to wake him.
He blips down the power window and says
"Is my fucking food ready?!"
to shorten the tale a bit? he refuses medical treatment and instead goes to jail.
(wouldn't have been my choice...)
next day ? no Derrick at work...but an awesome story in the paper.
So, Wally goes down to check on the kid and see if he can't be sprung.
But wait!
Wally himself has a pesky little drunk and disorderly warrant so he gets tossed in with Derrick!
Our manager calls a meeting.
"Who here DOESN'T have any warants?"
Susan, Myself and Steve raise our hands definitively
(our collective age is over 120 years. I am the baby at 31)
the rest of our ragged band either keeps their hands in their lap out of propriety or, tentativly, kinda , sorta raises their hands..

Steve and I take a corporate checkbook and a used Maxima and go bail the chumps out.
Good Times.

Oh how I hate meetings...mostly...

For the last 7 years or so every job I have ever had has had at the minimum a weekly meeting.
(some places liked to double or triple up as they saw fit)

In my current state of salaried indenturedness we have the classic once weekly meeting.
It's always the same every week.
I usually bring a bag of Gardettos or Skittles and indulge in some classic o.c.d. sorting/eating behavior. It keeps me quiet

Last week I had no food and was therefore forced to pay attention.
The training manager was asking us to list five "SEIBEL skills" or "buying signs" or ...something, I don't know. I wasn't really listening.
He was holding his arm up at an angle halfway between the classic Black Power salute straight up and an angle parallel to the floor. It's kind of the "Look! Up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane!..." angle...
Picture it?
OK so his hand is in a fist and we are supposed to list off 5 things...as we are giving our answers he's ticking them off with his fingers until finally he is holding his hand out flat.
Picture it?
He suddenly is giving the classic "Seig Heil!" Salute!
I wait for him to drop it but he doesn't because this classroom of dumb fucks doesn't know the last answer.
(I would have known the answer had I been listening, right?)
So finally I say "ummm Steve?"
he rotates to me "yes?"
now I am getting the "Seig Heil!" Awesome!
I say "yeah.... maybe you shouldn't hold your hand like that?"

AND ...THE ...CROWD...GOES ..WILD!

this is the New Me disrupting a meeting .
It was fun.

Want to hear a story about the way the Old Me would disrupt a meeting?
(you know you do)

OK. This was back when I was selling Hondas.
Every week we had the exact same fucking meeting.
I worked with a raggedy assed band of complete fuck ups.
World class retards.
(I'm going to tell you how bad they were in the next blog. Hang for it, it's good)
Which was great for me.
It was like I got to go back and play Little League again. I was hitting home runs every at bat and pitching no hitters every time I took the mound.
In the land of the blind the one eyed man is king, right?
So every meeting I would listen while my compatriots got their weekly kick in the balls meeting and I would contentedly eat this heavenly sandwich the bakery around the corner made
(fluffy eggs, Emmentaller cheese, smoked ham on a croissant that had been baked that morning...I do miss those 1,200 calorie breakfasts...sigh)
And then once I finished my sandwich and my latte I would look for a creative way to get thrown out of the meeting.

One morning our boss was imploring us to set appointments with customers on days that we knew would be slow. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday?
OK.
Then he said "I know a lot of people want to make their appointments for Saturday, but please, that's our busiest day, so really try to set it during the week, OK?"
Then he looked around a conference room of hungover blank stares.
"Taylor, please tell me, what the fuck did I just say?"
and Taylor, God bless his "I dropped too much acid & smoked too much weed for the last 20 years" brain says with great enthusiasm
"Yes! Set appointments on Saturdays!"
Jeff, our fearless leader , stands stunned.
I step into the breach and say
"I have a question...how is it fucking possible that you still have all your fingers Taylor?"
He says "huh?"
" How is it possible that at some point in your life you have not at least once said ' hey what's this thingy do? Oww! Mah fingers! My beautiful fingers!'"

AND ...THE ...CROWD ...GOES ...WILD!!

Jeff looks at me, "dude, don't you have a deal to write up or something?"
I get up and leave, mission accomplished.

A couple of years later I'm selling Subarus.
These meetings were even more predictable. I actually got myself into a bit of hot water because I did a 5 minute stand up routine in which I acted out everything that would happen in the upcoming meeting and the general manager happened to hear the whole thing.
whoops.
Anyway. I wasn't top dog at this store; I was number 2 or 3...high enough in the food chain to tune out when the nut-kicking began.
One manger in particular...he deserves his own blog some day for his complete mis-use of the English language...but for the sake of semi-brevity, I'll just say he would ask rhetorical questions and then demand an answer.
"do I look like an ass monkey to you?"
" I asked you a question!"
Oh!...umm, no?
He is going off on this trio of green peas (that's "noob" in car-dog language.)
and he says
"do you think this is fucking Candy Land?!"
pause...
"I asked you a question!"
The poor fucking green peas are stunned...clearly this is a question that needs no answer, right?

Once more unto the breach
" No way! Cause' if this was Candy Land it would be way funner!"

AND ....THE ...CROWD....GOES ....WILD!!

exit stage left.

Clean Snatch!

Get your mind out of the gutter, Hey-soos Christo.
By snatch I meant grab. Sheesh.

So turbo was playing a video game called Destroy All humans 2.
The basic premise is you are a little classic looking "gray" alien named Crypto running around earth trying to ...well destroy humanity.
One of the features of the game
(in addition to being able to pull a humans brain out through their ass with a specialized ray)
is that you can zap them and take over (or "snatch") their body.

In case nobody has hipped you to this, video games have become progressively more freaky as the years have rolled on.

So Turbo is playing his game and I happen to glance up just as he zaps somebody and inhabits his body.
The screen displays in big bold letters

CLEAN SNATCH!

Wow.
here's what followed:

M: clean snatch? that's good?
T: (very enthusiastically) oh yeah, it's the best kind of snatch.
M: so you love the clean snatch then?
T: yeah , you know why?
(I assure you this is what he said)
T: it kind of sounds like "clean snack"
M :clean snack?
T: yeah ...like a donut that hasn't fallen on the floor or anything? Just clean. And you're thinking "I can't wait to eat that."
M: well if you like clean snatch that much then I guess I do too.

Bonding.
Isn't it these moment that we live for as parents?
I know there won't be too many more chances to have conversations like this.

I was on the phone one time and Hopper was just driving me nuts trying to get his way on something. He would not stop trying to argue with me.
I couldn't take it anymore.

M: Listen you can just stop debating this with me; you won't win.
H: I might.
M: no you won't. And I'll tell you why.
H: why daddy?
M: because son, you are no master debater.
H: (furious) I am too a master debater!
M not yet you aren't . One day you will be. But not yet you aren't .
H: (stomps away, enters bedroom) I can't wait to be a master debater! (slams door)

ahhh, good times.

Civil clerks are stupid. Yeah I said it.

Here in the Springs the crime rate is low so the Police Looooove to make traffic stops.
I got a ticket because I didn't have the proper registration card in my car....but originally
I got pulled over because it "sounded like I was going pretty fast".
I tried to have an intelligent discussion about the high-revving nature of four cylinder engines and the impression of speed that may be given off by an engine being wound out to 7,000 rpm.
The cop preferred to talk about how loud my exhaust was.
At any rate I got the ticket.
A week later I got pulled over again. Why? I was following a friend to a club that I was unfamiliar with. He was speeding, I was not.
He got pulled over. I waited for him to get his ticket in a nearby parking lot and the proceeded to follow him to the club again.
The cop circled back and pulled me over.
He went for the damn Twofer!
He comes up to my window and says in an extremely suspicious voice "what are you up to?"
I didn't know how to answer the question without sounding guilty of something so I said
" May I ask why you pulled me over?" In a conspicuously polite manner.
He said "seems like somethings going on. I pull your buddy over and then there you are circling around in your car and then when he pulls out you fall right in line"
All of this was said in the manner of the DA making his closing statements to the jury.
Clearly ladies and gentlemen of the jury the defendant was"up to" something!
So I explained what we were "up to".

Evidently that was too easy so he then pointed out that one of the bulbs in my tail-lights was out.
Fair enough, thanks for the heads up. The whole thing wasn't broken mind you, only one side of my brake light lit up...so I had one light on the left and 2 on the right.
I think it miffed him when his Something Is Up theory didn't pan out so he gave me the ticket.

Fine, whatever. 2 "fix-it tickets". Big deal, go down to the courthouse and get them dismissed.
So I go down and show the clerk my stuff and she says fine it's dismissed. I then ask who do I have check out the tail light to prove it's fixed.
She can't find a fix-it ticket for the taillight and says if it's not in the system by now I'm clear.
Great.
Fast forward a month. I get a message from an officer telling me because I didn't take care of this ticket I have a warrant.
Super Great.
I call the courthouse to get this straightened out.
The clerk informs me that the first time I was at the wrong courthouse. I said "did you guys move or something?"
Turns out you can get a ticket from an officer and they have the discretion to assign it to "City" traffic court or "Municipal" traffic court.
Asinine!
(this will be a big no-no when I'm President King I can assure you)
But here is what pisses me off...the fucking clerk at the first courthouse knew I had just moved here and would therefore have no idea about this 2 court BS. I explicitly asked her about the second ticket. I even made a joke about how it's comforting to live in a city so safe that I could anticipate at least 2 tickets a month. Surely at some point someone has brought in a ticket and waved it in her face only to find out they are in the wrong courthouse. I can't possibly the only person in the history of The Springs to make this mistake, right?
Yet it never occurred to her to say "hey you might want to check with "municipal court"

friggin idiot!

Post Script : On the freeway exit that I take every night if you are third in line you are directly underneath a street lamp that I have noticed randomly turns on and off. Normally my first instinct is to think that the guy behind me has just flipped his lights off or on.
Tonight?
Jesus.
the fucking light comes on and I just about fudged my huggies. My brain screamed "they found me!"

I have to go down to the courthouse tomorrow....

When I'm President King

You will not be allowed to name your kid whatever the fuck you want. There will be no more kids named Kal-El, OK?
Wait, am I being racist? Am i saying that an ethnic, possibly Muslim, name will not be allowed in My America?
Oh no no no.
Kal-El is what Nick Cage named his second child (it was the birth name of Superman)
You want irony? Nick Cage did a sketch on SNL a few years ago...the basic premise is that he and Julia Sweeny are going to have a baby.
(big fucking stretch there, no?)
They are discussing names and every name she comes up with he has a problem with it because the kid will be made fun of....I'm just going to paste the last part of the sketch here...

Wife: Alright. Um.. Nate.
Husband: "The Nate Rockne Story." "Hey, Nate, where's the Gipper?"
Wife: What?
Husband: [ pacing the room ] Na-ate! Na-ate! Do you like that sound? Well, you better get used to it! [ his wife walks across the room ] Hey, where are you going?
Wife: [ leafing through book ] I'm looking at this Baby Name book, I thought it could help us.. [ looking through book ] How about Bjaardker?
Husband: [ intrigued ] Oh?
Wife: Bjaardker. It's Icelandic.
Husband: [ considering ] Yeah.. that's a tough little name to crack. That could be good. [ puts his face up to his Wife's belly ] Hey, Bjaardker, little fellow. You might just have a good childhood, after all. [ Wife laughs ] Talk to you later.
Wife: I love you.
Husband: I love you. [ they kiss, as the doorbell rings ] You sit, honey.
Wife: Alright.
Husband: [ answering the door ] Yes?
Telegram Deliverer: Hi, how you doing? I've got a telegram here for a Mr. & Mrs. Asswipe Johnson. I'm supposed to read it. [ holds telegram ] "Dear Asswipe & Emily: Congratulations on your upcoming blessed event. All our love, Bob & Diane." Here you go, Sir. [ hands him the telegram ]
Husband: Uh.. listen.. that's "Os-wee-pay".
Telegram Deliverer: [ confused ] What?
Husband: Uh.. forget it, forget it.. [ closes the door and sits next to his wife ]
Wife: That was really nice of Bob and Diane.
Husband: [ sighs ] Yeah, but why do they have to mention my name so much?
Wife: Oh, honey..


Sorry, I know in America we have rights and freedoms....but your right to name your kid whatever asinine, fucked up thing you want is completely superseded by the right of your child to not get his ass kicked repeatedly for years to come and to not have to spell his name every single time he/she gives it.
Kal-El Cage? fucking come on.

There will be a simple process. If the name you choose for your child is found in any number of baby naming books readily available at your local bookseller?
Done.
Automatic approval. (even if it's Bjaarkder)
If however the computer rejects the name we go to step 2.
There is an appeal process.
If you can show that the name means something lovely in your native tongue? Or it's a traditional name?
Great. you're in.
If someone in your family had that fucked up name? I'm sorry, but it's in.
If it's a made up, vaguely Afrocentric name? Starquisha? You're in. (sorry, but my 4Th language is Ebonics)
If it's something you took out of the dictionary and it's lovely or poignant? In. stupid and arbitrary? out.
IE: Kestrel (a type of falcon)
Chrysalis (the stage of life representing transformation) or
Chance (which means...um chance?)
all in.
rumor, trouble, steed?
all fucking out.
(I did in fact go to school with a guy named Steed. How cruel.)

As my Lifetime Administration goes on it will become easier and easier.
we will keep a database of rejected, fucked up names so that the approval/denial process will become quicker.
If some asshole tries to name their kid 4Real (as a couple in New Zealand recently tried to do.....they saw the sonogram and realized the kid was "for real" and hence the name)
the name will get automatic rejection the next time.
Another feature of the process will be that as the database grows we will be able to offer alternatives to the retarded names. Someone will try to name a kid Castrateia and the system will say
"I'm sorry Castrateia is not available....if you liked Castrateia you might like Kestrel."

Now this system will completely be hands off in terms of nicknames. I will insure that nobody has too fucked up of a name on paper. However, my Elected-Monarchy will have a definite libertarian slant.
I grew up with a kid named Hot Rod Austin. He was one of the coolest fucking people I have ever met.
(And I grew up in Los Angeles where they spawn cool fuckers as prodigiously as they grow oranges and install saline implants. It's the place where the rest of the country sends their cool fuckers to flourish and thrive.)

If you want to call your kid Koolwhip The Destroyer? That is totally fine with me. Just don't put it in the record.

Give them the option of a normal life.

Beating Back The Boredom Volume 2

I embarked on a little social experiment today at the office.
I wanted to see if people would high five me for no reason at all.
My theory was that people who are willing to join in on the fun and have a good time will high five first and ask questions later.

I set up a couple of rules.
1st: I wouldn't say "high five!" because that may be seen as coercing the person into the act.

2nd: it had to be completely spontaneous. If I did it in the context of conversation it could be construed that there was a reason for the High Five. My method was to just say "Yeah!" and put my hand up for the High Five the second I made eye contact.

3rd: It couldn't be in front of another person. I didn't want the act of outside observation to affect the outcome.

So.... I won't go into the specific of the data, I'll just give you my conclusions.

People generally won't high five you unless you can give them some kind of reason.
One guy high fived me and then followed it up with "did you fucking bump your head dude?"
I think he just really likes high fiving. Like a guy that likes pizza so much he'll eat any fucking cardboard/sauce/cheese combo you slap in front of him.

I will consider this a semi-successful experiment. We now know for pretty damn sure that if you want to have a high five you gotta have a reason.

To solidify this conclusion I did another test.
I changed my method from "yeah!" and throwing up the hand to "Yeah! Wednesday..hump day!"
%125 success
(I actually did this to one person in front of another and the second guy jumped in and gave me five as well)

So do you need a reason to get Five?
Yes.
Can it be a completely specious one?
Yes.

I love science.

Beating Back the Bordom One Stupid Act At A Time

I clearly have some kind of attention deficit disorder. I have to work hard at keeping myself entertained.
I have started a new project for myself. I absolutely love music and so I have been going to the library a couple of times a week on my lunch break and looking through the Cd's. I check out any CD that is
1) from a band I have never heard of
2)ambiguous as to what type of music it is because the packaging/name of the band/song titles give no clue.

I know that BS about not being able to judge a book by its cover....
but if the name of your band is Fucking Puppies and you have a picture of your band on the back and you all sport more tattoos than Travis Barker I have an idea of what you may sound like.....or if you have 2 heavyset women with salt and pepper flat tops holding guitars? I kind of know what to expect.

So in my limited time at this game I am coming to the conclusion that if I haven't heard of you and the library owns your stuff?
You suck.

And that's not to say that the library buys crap music because I have checked out Modest Mouse, the Mars Volta and Cut Chemist to name just a few.

I'm going to keep trying and I'll let you know what my first Great Find is.

(by the way, Fucking Puppies is a made up band name that I invented while drinking with my friend Cindy...but that's another blog)

I have several blogs that I read on a fairly regular basis (defective yeti, alternadad etc) and I hate when the writer goes too long without writing and then comes back with a lame 2 sentence post.

Oh by the way, I had pasta for lunch.

She didn't know her Glastnost from her assnost

The spot where I brutally attacked a wall with my head has healed for the most part.
I do have a little bit of red discoloration that in a very obtuse way is reminiscent of Mikhail Gorbachev's birthmark.

A woman asked me today what happened to my head and I said
"I'm Gorbachev. I ended the cold war through the clever use of quitting."

She looked at me as if my answer to her question was to squat and crap in my pants.

Guess she's not a history buff.

Same Day Dentures

When I was driving from Texas more than once I saw a billboard advertising "same day dentures. "
Are we really in that much of a hurry as a country?
I thought it was bad when they came out with microwaveable Minute Rice. Are there really people out there saying
"Boy I sure would like some rice but ...a minute? I am Busy! I need that rice 5 minutes ago! Fuck it. I'll eat it raw"
Next we'll have drive through Lasik...
I figure by the time Turbo is old enough to get his eyeballs lasered they will have a little booth at the mall. You go up sit in the chair and give 'em your debit card. They'll have little Asian dudes harassing you as you get off the escalator.
"Rasik? Take, five minute buddy?"
Do we really need dentures the same day? Isn't dentures one of those things that you would want them to take their time on?
Besides that, it's not like dentures are a spur of the moment thing. You usually have an inkling that you're in need of some teeth well before you actually can get around to getting them....
Oh! Wait I get it!
This is a service for hicks! You go to the bar Friday night and get your teeth knocked in and then Monday you go down and get you some new ones....
It's all becoming clear...

I wonder if they ever run "buy one get one" specials ...that way if your old lady leaves you and runs off with your dog, your truck and your teeth you've got a spare set...
As Christina always says, It's all about the 'bogo'.

Koolwhip the Destroyer

I like giving turbo nicknames.
This actually runs in the family. My dad is a big one for giving nicknames. 2 of his most classics?
Poo-Doo (don't worry I won't reveal your true identity)
and another was The Great Wazoo.
shortened to Wazoo and then finally Waz.
I should point out both of these names stuck well into their teens and beyond.
Turbo's first nick name was Hopper.
It was as if he had gone one step ahead of us in the evolutionary process of locomotion.
1) crawl
2)walk
3)run
4)hop...everywhere.
He went from getting about in the normal fashion of a toddler (IE running, stumbling and smashing his head into any available hard surface) to hopping everywhere.
Then he devolved.
Around 4 years old he started sprinting everywhere. And still occasionally bashing his head into any convenient hard surface.
He once was sprinting down one of those people movers at the airport and by the time he got to the end he had reached terminal velocity (no pun intended) and rocketed out of the chute with so much force that he somehow managed to kick himself in the back and tumble about 15 feet onto the carpet. One of his more spectacular performances, I assure you.

So Hopper became Turbo.

Other people have attempted giving him nicknames to no success. One person wanted Mogli...no go. Another, in a horribly misguided attempt, tried the moniker The C-Man.
Seriously?
That dog won't hunt.

I have been lately trying to convince him to take on a Rap Name and form a group with me.
None of my suggestions has been acceptable...
C-murder, C-Money, C- Diddy....
no luck.
Then last night I told him his new nickname is going to be Koolwhip the Destroyer....
He loves that idea...
I think as a rap name it's kinda confusing, but as an extreme practitioner of the nonsequeter it fit's him nicely. (Turbo's my official nonsequetary. He can be counted on to inject into any conversation the most absurd word combinations and bizarre questions ever.)

Sadly I don't think this one will stick.

Hey, I hate you And the make believe you

One of the books I'm currently reading is called The Watchman. It's the latest in a series of hard boiled detective novels about this guy Joe Pike.
Pike is your classic tough guy.
Tough, shadowy past, cool red tattooed arrows on his biceps. He probably says a dozen words or less per book. He usually beats up or shoots more people than he utters sentences.
His business partner Elvis Cole does all the talking. He's a cool tough guy also but in the opposite way as Pike. He drives a yellow corvette and refers to himself "The greatest Detective in the world" only half facetiously.
Anyway, I told you all that to tell you this.
Their current case is protecting a girl from ruthless killers out to finish her off. Could be they are sent by a murderous Colombian drug lord....could be from the feds, at this point we don't know.
Here's the thing though....the character is completely styled after Paris Hilton....I find myself hoping Pike will just turn around and shoot her with his Colt Python and be done with it.
Is that bad?
Does it make me a bad person to dislike a "celebrity" so much that I even wish her fictionalized persona would be shot in the face? I just know I'm going to be disappointed because Joe Pike will not falter and whatever the malignant forces aligned against the girl will be dealt with in a lethal fashion.
Too bad.

When I'm President King

The minute you get labeled as a Celebutante or your name gets mashed up with another persons IE: Bennifer or Tomcat?
You are marked for death unless you redeem yourself.
If you can do something to show that you are worthy of the world knowing who you are.. or at least try...
Look, if you're Paris Hilton? and the President-King says "distinguish yourself or perish" and you say "well... I have no talent, no original ideas and there is no reason in the world why anyone should know I exist at all frankly...but I can make sure that every kid in this country has access to a Dell Inspiron at school ?
you live.
go on you merry way polluting the airwaves and Internet with your idiocy.
But if your response is
"what-ever"
well....i gotta shoot you into space.

literally.

I have a plan to end the tax system as we know it.
If you are a fuck-head celebrity? If you have the eyes of the world on you and you have riches beyond most peoples imagining and you act like an asshole?

I will shoot you into space.
We will have a live broadcast on Fox.

(for really special cases, true criminals like Senators Caught fucking underage boys?I will make it a pay per view...but at a reasonable cost..maybe $15-$20 bucks)
but the add revenue itself will be phenomenal...like Superbowl spots...maybe we'll do it quarterly I don't know...
but hey, all the drama of a NASA space launch.... with a live shot of Cher sitting in a space ship freaking out a bit? Come on!
then she's up there in the atmosphere...kinda digging the view...
and a hatch opens.... wait ...whats this?....her seat belt releases and she's sucked out of the side hatch.

THE CROWD GOES WILD!!

Bleacher seats available near the launch pad, Jumbo-Tron, commemorative cup...the works!
Look, this is a win-win
(except I'm tired of the phrase "win-win" so from now on if it's a "win-win" lets all say "everybody gets ice cream!")
We rid the planet of ungrateful asshole "celebrities" especially the ones who put out crap. And we get to have a violent crazy fucking spectacle with rockets and explosions and noise....which America LOVES..
oh I forgot to mention...right before take-off we're going to have Henry Rollins and Bad Brains doing a cover of"Kick Out The Jams" with Rollins screaming"Kick out the Jams motherfucker!" so hard he actually sweats blood.
(It'll be a different band covering a different song every time, because the President King loves an inspired cover song... but you get the idea)
this has so many benefits.
We don't have to go to other countries and invade them to make them think we are scary motherfuckers anymore.
Don't we all think the middle east is crazy based off of a few be-headings and some stupid fatwa's?
well if we take the biggest movie star in the world and shoot him into space because he's an asshole?
They will know for a fact we 'aint fuckin' around.
the ad revenue will make income taxes obsolete for all but the wealthiest Americans.
All of the assets of the deceased will be liquidated and used to repave the highways and build hospitals.
and it will be a great show.
Oh!...and Jimmie Kimmel will host, how cool is that?

everybody gets ice cream!

When good sentences go bad

I awoke pleased to see her head laying on the pillow next to mine ....
but became dismayed when I was unable to locate the rest of her.

What is it about the Toyota Prius that makes the owner go apeshit with bumperstickers?

Have you heard about the Cats Of Death?

If you haven't heard about this already, the Grim Reaper has apparently taken on the form of a cat in at least 2 nursing homes
A cat named Oscar living in a nursing home in Providence,RI. has the ability to "predict" when a person is about to die and he comes in and lays down with the soon to be departed to give them "comfort".
Riiight.
Then this other nursing home fires back with their own grim reaper cat. Buckwheat has apparently knocked off....I mean "comforted" about 36 fortunate souls.
In your face Oscar!
Oh and the name of the nursing home in Seattle? Providence Mount St. Vincent.

Coincidence?

Ok even if these cats aren't the Grim Reaper. I still think these murderous cats are responsible.
Maybe not the first few....but now that the cat has a "rep"?
Forget about it.
Imagine: You come back from bingo and there is Oscar lying on your quilt purring malevolently.
2 words.
Myocardial Infarction.

If I'm in the nursing home and that Damned Cat starts following me down the hall? Screw that. I'm hitting him with my cane like I'm Tiger Woods at a driving range yelling "not this time motherfucker!!"
then the men in the white coats come and sedate me....
and who is there when I wake up?
"Fuck you buckwheat! I never did nothin' to you!"

I picture the cat going around extorting treats and shit.
"look just give me that can of tuna and I'll get out of your hair. This will not end well for you if you don't cooperate Nana."

That's why if I'm ever in a nursing home I am taking out the cat staight away.

A typical conversation at my house

T: hey dad I have a terrible idea

M: dude all of your ideas are terrible

T: yeah but this one is really bad

are you ready to rock and roll?!

I heard a commercial on the radio today for the state fair.

Apparently the organizers of the state fair are of the opinion that the state fair rocks. I don't know why they think this because I turned the station before they could get to the point where they explain why the state fair rocks.

I only heard about 5 seconds but here is what I think I heard:

"the state fair rocks

it really really rocks

it rocks rocks rocks

it really really rocks"



I had to switch it before the blood started coming out of my ears. This was one of the least rocking songs I've ever heard.

I had a little bit of a flashback.

It's 1985 and I'm a junior in high school. My favorite bands are the Dead Kennedy's, Red Hot Chili Peppers (fuck you. they were a cool local band in 1985) and Suicidal Tendencies

This song comes on the radio that is an affront.

an abomination.

a fart in the face of rock and roll.

"we built this city...

we built this city....

on rock and rolllll"

I almost had a seizure!

This is the least rocking song about 'rocking' EVER!

And to put this in historical perspective? Just the year before Huey Lewis and the news crapped on our chest with "the heart of rock and roll"

How the fuck can you have a song that says you built a city on rock and roll but the song itself is completely devoid of rock?

You want an example of a song about rocking that actually rocks?
"Kick out the jams" by the MC5. That song rocks. It's loud and sweaty and lewd.
From the opening line when Rob Tyner yells out :
"Kick out the jams motherfuckers!"
You just know something good is about to happen.
You know you're about to rock.

I wish Jefferson starship would reunite and change their name back to Jefferson Airplane and then get onstage at some big summer festival type concert and rattle off some rambling diatribe about King George and his War of Terror and then go off on some tangent about trading blood for oil right before they set themselves on fire in protest like a Buddhist monk during the Vietnam war.

That's ok, when I'm president king I will have them shot into space and released. Take that Jefferson 'starship'!

but that's a whole other blog.

when I'm President-King

It will be law that if your stomach sticks out farther than your chest you will not be allowed to wear a shirt that exposes your midriff.

This applies to both sexes.

and in a related law?

Spandex will not be made in sizes larger than Medium.
Nothing personal, but if your fat ass can't squeeze into a medium? We don't need to be blighted with the sight of you in Spandex.

Elbony Capri get your feet off the sofa!

I had a customer today whose name was Elbony.
(I really could just end this entry right now. I find the name so funny I could leave it at that.)
Her middle name?
Capri.

My friend Cindy used to keep a list of funny names that she came across. I am officially thieving that idea and I am going to start posting the funniest names I come across....

hey! maybe a contest is in order ...leave the funniest name you have come across in the comments and I'll pick a monthly winner and the winner will get nothing!