Coitusers, welcome to September!! The month that if Caligula wanted to re-name Germanicus after his father. If the cruelest of Roman Emporers would have had it his way what would the top 40 stations of made of “Wake Me Up When Germanicus Ends”?
QUESTION OF THE WEEK
This is more of a biography of Baldee2’s life than it is something that should be laughed at. Some of the conversations are actually similar to Harmon and Baldee2 before they had their sissy fight. That and I swear I’ve heard Baldee2 say “Have you ever been chased by the entire JV football team just because you chose to wear your cloak?”
Our sister site, Barber College, has been doing a hard hitting expose on the hotties of My Space. We here at the BMC are hoping that they are not in too deep.
For all of the Lost geeks here is a quick fix. The most vexing issue isn’t complete but it is being added onto by a few seconds every day. If I weren’t so desperate this probably wouldn’t be as interesting.
Second place is the first loser (except if you’re in a playoff situation then it’s the last loser… or whatever). St. Paul/Minneapolis, let’s see what we can do to reclaim our rightful place as the drunkest city in the US.
Developing news on the Transformer movie. Bumblebee is going to be a Camaro? I assume there will be at least 35 comments on this.
To bring this all back home, this is the latest brain… I don’t know, I honestly don’t know what Baldee is trying to do… first he wants to look like Blade, now he thinks that we should all buy Thundercat Swords. The end is night.
It’s been a rainy week here in Chicago and when there is no hope in site there is no finer way to watch one’s day’s go by then to zone out to Brazilian Jazz. Bebel Gilberto is not a new artist but her delivery and style breathe through your headphones making you feel cooler just for listening to her. Unfortunately her main website does not have any mp3s on it but it is still worth checking out.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
The Heckler
New York is such a straight forward town every one is quick to tell you like it is if, You piss them off mind you .
It's the only town I think I've been to where I heard two homeless guys arguing and one of them tell's the Other "Why don't you get your Shit together "
So here I am in the Big City taking in the sites, I went to a Comedy Club where I witnessed the saddest site the Heckler.
I think these types of people fall under the Neanderthal portion of society they are so dense that they don't see that what there doing is soooo annoying .
Heck as I call em comes into the place and before the show starts he's all ready trying out his material on us, the poor saps in the audience who are just minding our own business sipping our Sweet booze and hoping to have a good time .
The show starts and I find myself more interested in watching the Heck and it is a site to behold you can see the guy he's there listening attentively laughing at the jokes a tad to much , I began to think I was wrong about the guy until I seen it hidden, there he was clenching the table with his left hand
( he was to my left ) that's when I knew what was happening .
He wasn't into the show he wanted to be the show, he was studying the comics timing waiting for the joke that he can throw his 2 cents into and it happened .
The comic did his thing and bam Heck started yelling out like he was a Cowboy
" yE HAA MAN DAT RIGHT der is funny man ye haa"
As you can tell his comments were not funny and kind of sad cause Heck is a Dominican guy from the Bronx who thinks he's Larry the Cable Guy that right there was material enough
After that it was an hour of Comedic bashing I have not seen the likes of in some time .
The best part is Heck obviously torn a new one decides to pretend it didn't hurt I think in some ways by getting dumped on he thinks he killed .
sad
It's the only town I think I've been to where I heard two homeless guys arguing and one of them tell's the Other "Why don't you get your Shit together "
So here I am in the Big City taking in the sites, I went to a Comedy Club where I witnessed the saddest site the Heckler.
I think these types of people fall under the Neanderthal portion of society they are so dense that they don't see that what there doing is soooo annoying .
Heck as I call em comes into the place and before the show starts he's all ready trying out his material on us, the poor saps in the audience who are just minding our own business sipping our Sweet booze and hoping to have a good time .
The show starts and I find myself more interested in watching the Heck and it is a site to behold you can see the guy he's there listening attentively laughing at the jokes a tad to much , I began to think I was wrong about the guy until I seen it hidden, there he was clenching the table with his left hand
( he was to my left ) that's when I knew what was happening .
He wasn't into the show he wanted to be the show, he was studying the comics timing waiting for the joke that he can throw his 2 cents into and it happened .
The comic did his thing and bam Heck started yelling out like he was a Cowboy
" yE HAA MAN DAT RIGHT der is funny man ye haa"
As you can tell his comments were not funny and kind of sad cause Heck is a Dominican guy from the Bronx who thinks he's Larry the Cable Guy that right there was material enough
After that it was an hour of Comedic bashing I have not seen the likes of in some time .
The best part is Heck obviously torn a new one decides to pretend it didn't hurt I think in some ways by getting dumped on he thinks he killed .
sad
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
The Same Old... Same Old
Perhaps every generation has their great, uncontrollable nemesis. These nemisi could be shared father to daughter or mother to son or the problem could persist in similar spirits from generation to generation. Not necessarily on a global scale though many admirable articles have been penned with an argument as such.
On days, such as today, I leave my friends house full of bravado and bluster filled with the feeling that my freshly configured computer and I are capable of taking on the world. A few quick keystrokes here an alt-tab there and the world will soon be kneeling before Zod (or at the very least I will be capable of using my email).
However, when I arrive home and call my computer to life I am remiss if I do not remember my Grandfather and the motorboat. Grandpa, with glorious production, wheeling her out of the garage; the sparkling blue decals rippling on her sides, the ebony motor mounted on her back, prone, like a raging bull. Grandpa would always start it up in the driveway and after a few hard cranks of gasoline and oil, in short gray farts, the engine would kick to life.
The engine, as it was, would never start in the water. I’ve been assured by countless mechanics, since my Grandfather’s passing, that motorboat’s engines do not have acute fears of water, nor do their creators or assemblers have ironical senses of humor that they are capable of instilling within the machine.
It is probable that the disappointed looks on my friend’s faces mimic mine as a child when the motorboat wouldn’t start; it was never so much disappointment as fear for the Evinrude. This loveable engine that caused Grandpa so much grief yet would give the family so much to laugh about. Surely the pain it sacrificed behind closed garage doors was justifiable to the comedic gold it gave my dysfunctional family.
Man v. Machine, or more accurately Man v. Self, is a battle as old as the wheel. As, perhaps, are the friends and family that find the joy in laughing at those that attempt to tangle with technology. For now, if everybody would be kind enough to refrain from sending me email and rather mail letters direct to my post it will cease and desist me from smashing computers.
On days, such as today, I leave my friends house full of bravado and bluster filled with the feeling that my freshly configured computer and I are capable of taking on the world. A few quick keystrokes here an alt-tab there and the world will soon be kneeling before Zod (or at the very least I will be capable of using my email).
However, when I arrive home and call my computer to life I am remiss if I do not remember my Grandfather and the motorboat. Grandpa, with glorious production, wheeling her out of the garage; the sparkling blue decals rippling on her sides, the ebony motor mounted on her back, prone, like a raging bull. Grandpa would always start it up in the driveway and after a few hard cranks of gasoline and oil, in short gray farts, the engine would kick to life.
The engine, as it was, would never start in the water. I’ve been assured by countless mechanics, since my Grandfather’s passing, that motorboat’s engines do not have acute fears of water, nor do their creators or assemblers have ironical senses of humor that they are capable of instilling within the machine.
It is probable that the disappointed looks on my friend’s faces mimic mine as a child when the motorboat wouldn’t start; it was never so much disappointment as fear for the Evinrude. This loveable engine that caused Grandpa so much grief yet would give the family so much to laugh about. Surely the pain it sacrificed behind closed garage doors was justifiable to the comedic gold it gave my dysfunctional family.
Man v. Machine, or more accurately Man v. Self, is a battle as old as the wheel. As, perhaps, are the friends and family that find the joy in laughing at those that attempt to tangle with technology. For now, if everybody would be kind enough to refrain from sending me email and rather mail letters direct to my post it will cease and desist me from smashing computers.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
just... dirty
ok so with ellen's promotion and harmon's expulsion, balddee, mule & todd have decided to run amok in the damn break room. a few days ago i decided to venture in there for a cuppa joe and a few asprin. but what to my wondering eyes should appear, but 8 tiny roaches, circling the carpet (who puts carpet in a kitchenette? how bad of an idea is that really?), marching across the countertops through the plates of moldy nachos and swimming in small pools of mysterious liquid and generally having a blast in their newfound home. i promptly turned around and walked to my shrink for a prescription stronger than asprin.
so, until further notice, i shall be turning in my articles via email. i refuse to return to the hell-hole that is BMC headquarters until the fire marshall deems it habitable again. also, i will not give up my stronger-than-asprin prescription until my cube has been sterilized of all evidence of harmon's humping episode.
so now i'm supposed to segue into something witty and interesting. i'm supposed to jump through the entertainment hoop for your pleasure. dance, mothafucka, dance! you know, that shit. right? that's what you want. you want me to give an opinion on something involving interest in this boring world. well... i'm having a hard time with that right now. what with the proposed debate between the presidents of iran and the good ol' u-s-of-a, the one year anniversary of hurricane katrina and its reprocussions abounding and unabating, the unresolved conflicts in lebanon & israel, the upcoming state government elections (blgojobitch or tostinka? pawlenty-of-money or ha-ha-ha-hatch?), nail biting baseball stats, the upcoming football season (sigh. it's already that time again?)... i cant really pick just one. i'm a bit overwhelmed, and i direct you here, to the program Wait, Wait... Dont Tell Me, because Peter Sagal will do a much better job than i can.
so, until further notice, i shall be turning in my articles via email. i refuse to return to the hell-hole that is BMC headquarters until the fire marshall deems it habitable again. also, i will not give up my stronger-than-asprin prescription until my cube has been sterilized of all evidence of harmon's humping episode.
so now i'm supposed to segue into something witty and interesting. i'm supposed to jump through the entertainment hoop for your pleasure. dance, mothafucka, dance! you know, that shit. right? that's what you want. you want me to give an opinion on something involving interest in this boring world. well... i'm having a hard time with that right now. what with the proposed debate between the presidents of iran and the good ol' u-s-of-a, the one year anniversary of hurricane katrina and its reprocussions abounding and unabating, the unresolved conflicts in lebanon & israel, the upcoming state government elections (blgojobitch or tostinka? pawlenty-of-money or ha-ha-ha-hatch?), nail biting baseball stats, the upcoming football season (sigh. it's already that time again?)... i cant really pick just one. i'm a bit overwhelmed, and i direct you here, to the program Wait, Wait... Dont Tell Me, because Peter Sagal will do a much better job than i can.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Friday, August 25, 2006
Where We've Been... Again
Another week gone Coitusers and what have we done?, Another week older and a new one just begun. For those of you interested in applying to Bad Mother Coitus or are just interested in making asses of yourself, make sure to fill out the application and send to us at badmothercoitus@gmail.com
After being slapped around by Harmon, Baldee2 has spent no less than the past 36 hours determining what sort of weapon he wants. To help out our, TEST OF THE WEEK determines what blade is best for you. Remember, most stores and businesses ban concealed fire arms but they don’t give a shit about swords! Touche!
This girl has taken a picture of herself for the past three years. It’s interesting in the aspect that… well it’s interesting.
And this is the male rebuttal.
Just when you thought the world couldn’t be anymore white trash than it actually is, the world gives us this. Truly this is what Isaac Newton meant when he stated that he has only seen further because he has stood on the shoulders of giants.
Sorry Rock and Roll bands out there. With the firing of Harmon and the glorious victory celebrations that have resulted as he has been cast out, we’ve been too partied out to find a new band this week. The official anthem, for Harmon’s leaving, has been Good Luck by Basement Jaxx featuring Lisa Kekaula we thought it was appropriate.
After being slapped around by Harmon, Baldee2 has spent no less than the past 36 hours determining what sort of weapon he wants. To help out our, TEST OF THE WEEK determines what blade is best for you. Remember, most stores and businesses ban concealed fire arms but they don’t give a shit about swords! Touche!
This girl has taken a picture of herself for the past three years. It’s interesting in the aspect that… well it’s interesting.
And this is the male rebuttal.
Just when you thought the world couldn’t be anymore white trash than it actually is, the world gives us this. Truly this is what Isaac Newton meant when he stated that he has only seen further because he has stood on the shoulders of giants.
Sorry Rock and Roll bands out there. With the firing of Harmon and the glorious victory celebrations that have resulted as he has been cast out, we’ve been too partied out to find a new band this week. The official anthem, for Harmon’s leaving, has been Good Luck by Basement Jaxx featuring Lisa Kekaula we thought it was appropriate.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Harmon October 2005-August2006
It is with great regret that Bad Mother Coitus sees fit to terminate our relationship with Harmon. Harmon was one of the founding members of Bad Mother Coitus and will be deeply missed. After the slapping contest that he and Baldee2 engaged themselves in yesterday, and the vomit that was sprayed on the floor from him in fishnets, action needed to be taken.
There comes a time in every relationship when a new beginning is needed and so we will be fielding new applicants for Bad Mother Coitus. Please take a few moments to fill out the application and then forward it to us at badmothercoitus@gmail.com
BAD MOTHER COITUS
An Equal Opportunity Employer
General Information
1) Name: _________________________________________________
2) Address:
Email: _________________________________________________
Website: _________________________________________________
3) Male: _____ (If you checked this yes please skip to the next section)
4) Female: _____
5) Hot Female: _____ (if you are not a hot female please advance to the next section)
6) Complete this sentence:
My knowledge of sexual harassment laws is __________ (poor, fair, good, excellent)
7) Finish this statement:
I would like to have __________ with you in the _________ and then take you out for _________ followed by more _________.
General Knowledge
1) The movie _________ should be considered the best movie ever made.
2) If, God forbid, Arnold Schartz… Shwartz… Shwartzenegge… the Gov. of California (circa Conan the Barbarian) and Mike Ditka (circa 1985) were to get into a fight who would win?
a) Conan
b) Ditka
c) The world would end in the conflict that would ensue
3) On any given day I will play video games for:
a) I don’t play video games
b) 4-6 hours
c) 12-15 hours
4) I consider my knowledge area to be primarily based in:
a) Extremely Attractive Women
b) Video Games
c) Star Wars
d) Marvel Comic Books
e) DC Comic Books
f) Girls that aren’t necessarily attractive but have… certain moral deficiencies
g) Geography
h) Seinfeld
i) Music
5) In my possession I currently own:
a) 0-500 Albums or CD’s
b) 500-1000 CD’s
c) 1000+ CD’s
6) In my possession I currently own:
a) 0-500 DVD’s
b) 500-1000 DVD’s
c) 1000+ DVD’s
7) To my best knowledge appropriate work attire would be:
a) Cheerleader Outfit
b) Like Morpheus from the Matrix
c) Like Princess Leia Slave Girl from Return of the Jedi
d) Like Ironman
8) If a pirate and a Ninja were to quarrel and fisticuffs erupted who wins?
a) The Pirate
b) The Ninja
c) Whoever Wins, Humanity Looses
General Knowledge of Bad Mother Coitus
1) Who is the most attractive member of the BMC staff?
a) mule
b) Harmon
c) Baldee2
d) Dr Gonzo
e) mule
f) Remo
There comes a time in every relationship when a new beginning is needed and so we will be fielding new applicants for Bad Mother Coitus. Please take a few moments to fill out the application and then forward it to us at badmothercoitus@gmail.com
BAD MOTHER COITUS
An Equal Opportunity Employer
General Information
1) Name: _________________________________________________
2) Address:
Email: _________________________________________________
Website: _________________________________________________
3) Male: _____ (If you checked this yes please skip to the next section)
4) Female: _____
5) Hot Female: _____ (if you are not a hot female please advance to the next section)
6) Complete this sentence:
My knowledge of sexual harassment laws is __________ (poor, fair, good, excellent)
7) Finish this statement:
I would like to have __________ with you in the _________ and then take you out for _________ followed by more _________.
General Knowledge
1) The movie _________ should be considered the best movie ever made.
2) If, God forbid, Arnold Schartz… Shwartz… Shwartzenegge… the Gov. of California (circa Conan the Barbarian) and Mike Ditka (circa 1985) were to get into a fight who would win?
a) Conan
b) Ditka
c) The world would end in the conflict that would ensue
3) On any given day I will play video games for:
a) I don’t play video games
b) 4-6 hours
c) 12-15 hours
4) I consider my knowledge area to be primarily based in:
a) Extremely Attractive Women
b) Video Games
c) Star Wars
d) Marvel Comic Books
e) DC Comic Books
f) Girls that aren’t necessarily attractive but have… certain moral deficiencies
g) Geography
h) Seinfeld
i) Music
5) In my possession I currently own:
a) 0-500 Albums or CD’s
b) 500-1000 CD’s
c) 1000+ CD’s
6) In my possession I currently own:
a) 0-500 DVD’s
b) 500-1000 DVD’s
c) 1000+ DVD’s
7) To my best knowledge appropriate work attire would be:
a) Cheerleader Outfit
b) Like Morpheus from the Matrix
c) Like Princess Leia Slave Girl from Return of the Jedi
d) Like Ironman
8) If a pirate and a Ninja were to quarrel and fisticuffs erupted who wins?
a) The Pirate
b) The Ninja
c) Whoever Wins, Humanity Looses
General Knowledge of Bad Mother Coitus
1) Who is the most attractive member of the BMC staff?
a) mule
b) Harmon
c) Baldee2
d) Dr Gonzo
e) mule
f) Remo
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Harmon must be Punished !!!
In a world of uncertainty one thing is clear .
Harmon must be terminated or Flogged
It all began with our Annual Office Party .
Rest assured true believers We here represent good old fashioned American drinking to it fullest .
Having said that it all began with a drinking contest between Todd Dancer,Remo and our Hero of the hour Harmon .
Alcohol is a truth serum and every Skelton in Harmy's closet came a flying, from Farting in a bowl of Halloween Candy and then dispensing them to happy trick or treaters . To his favorite past time acting out various Genius Filled blogs posted from Mule , Dr Gonzo, Remo and of course yours truly.
This is where the problems arose .
I was fine with a lot of what he did until he cross referenced 2 pieces of my work I almost fainted at the site of Harmon dancing on a pole suspending himself in the air yelling out Here fishy fishy heerrreee Fishy fishy
I was appalled Yeah ME !! and I wrote that shit .
He must be punished !!!
Harmon must be terminated or Flogged
It all began with our Annual Office Party .
Rest assured true believers We here represent good old fashioned American drinking to it fullest .
Having said that it all began with a drinking contest between Todd Dancer,Remo and our Hero of the hour Harmon .
Alcohol is a truth serum and every Skelton in Harmy's closet came a flying, from Farting in a bowl of Halloween Candy and then dispensing them to happy trick or treaters . To his favorite past time acting out various Genius Filled blogs posted from Mule , Dr Gonzo, Remo and of course yours truly.
This is where the problems arose .
I was fine with a lot of what he did until he cross referenced 2 pieces of my work I almost fainted at the site of Harmon dancing on a pole suspending himself in the air yelling out Here fishy fishy heerrreee Fishy fishy
I was appalled Yeah ME !! and I wrote that shit .
He must be punished !!!
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
orange shoes/commie bastards
it has come to my attention that some of the writing on the BMC may be a bit disturbing for our conservative viewers. after receiving complaints from harmon's great aunt tilly; bob-joe, the redneck guy that used to sit next to mule at work; and the entire nunery associated with balddee's "religion", i feel that it is necessary to investigate.
before i share my findings, i shall discuss the pair of shoes that is currently on my wish list. i am planning on obtaining these shoes in the near future - as soon as i can swipe $20 in $1 bills from Todd Dancer's ever-optimistic wallet. they are a glorious shade of orange and by now i can see that the remaining members of the bmc have stopped reading. you see, nerdy males do not like discussing women's shoes (even if they are gay, they only want to discuss thier own shoes). so i now have the attention of all our readers. here is what i found: the founding members of the bmc are "bleeding heart liberals"... socialists, if you will... sneaky think-gooders who preach the betterment of society as a whole through the general goodness of mankind.
note: harmon's last entry.
note: balddee's anger is directed to equal opportunity recipients.
note: mule's new bff is "Per, an illegal immigrant from sweden schooled in the art of computer technology". mule has started a fund to Keep Per Here - i have not yet discovered how much he has raked in, or how he is re-disributing this wealth.
i will continue to investigate this new finding in the coming days. if you need more proof of what i'm talking about, please click here.
before i share my findings, i shall discuss the pair of shoes that is currently on my wish list. i am planning on obtaining these shoes in the near future - as soon as i can swipe $20 in $1 bills from Todd Dancer's ever-optimistic wallet. they are a glorious shade of orange and by now i can see that the remaining members of the bmc have stopped reading. you see, nerdy males do not like discussing women's shoes (even if they are gay, they only want to discuss thier own shoes). so i now have the attention of all our readers. here is what i found: the founding members of the bmc are "bleeding heart liberals"... socialists, if you will... sneaky think-gooders who preach the betterment of society as a whole through the general goodness of mankind.
note: harmon's last entry.
note: balddee's anger is directed to equal opportunity recipients.
note: mule's new bff is "Per, an illegal immigrant from sweden schooled in the art of computer technology". mule has started a fund to Keep Per Here - i have not yet discovered how much he has raked in, or how he is re-disributing this wealth.
i will continue to investigate this new finding in the coming days. if you need more proof of what i'm talking about, please click here.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Follow the Money
One of my biggest beliefs in this world, sadly, is that when you're in doubt about the motivation of a particular person/country/party just follow the money and you'll soon have your answer. It's cynical as hell but I'd rather be known as overly cynical than highly naive.
That being said, I watched the documentary "Why We Fight" this weekend. It's a film about the American military might, how that might was forged and why, and most importantly what that might is being used for today. It's fascinating.
The movie itself leans to the left and so many of the people who would actually be swayed by it won't bother to watch because they'll be offended. These people are retards. The movie leans to the left, it doesn't go all Michael Moore on the bit, it just throws out some opinions. The sad part is that the politics of this issue hardly matter. It's not about WHO is doing it, it's about WHAT is being done.
The film opens with the farewell speech by Dwight Eisenhower as he leaves his post as president in '61. It's amazing. After many years I finally realize that I too, like Ike. He warns the people of the world that now that we have a military we may be compelled to use it for less than ideal reasons. Which of course we have done and continue to do. His prophecy is bitterly accurate. In an aside that speaks volumes he mentions "God forbid what would happen if the President of the United States didn't know the military like I do".
And of course subsequent presidents have been completely incompetent in managing the american war machine since he left the office. So he nailed that one too. Ike was fucking brilliant.
The movie moves on throughout the years and conflicts and elaborates a bit on the mechanications of war. Most frighteningly focusing on Cheney and his plans (in 1992 mind you) to become the world's only super-power and to then manage the world with an iron glove. On the one hand this sounds good, I'm an American and I want clean streets and smooth running engines under the hood and all that. On the other hand, he's basically saying he wants to kill brown people in foreign lands so I can have all that. Which puts me at odds. I kinda like brown people, and I certainly don't want them killed even if I don't like them personally. It's ugly. And it's American Policy.
I recommend this movie to anyone who wants to maybe put the pieces together a little more easily. Basically it comes down to this. We, the american people, spend roughly $750 billion a year annually on "defense". You think we spend that much without expecting some payback? Hence you get your Halliburtons and Lockheed Martins and whatnots. War is business, and in 2006 business is good.
That being said, I watched the documentary "Why We Fight" this weekend. It's a film about the American military might, how that might was forged and why, and most importantly what that might is being used for today. It's fascinating.
The movie itself leans to the left and so many of the people who would actually be swayed by it won't bother to watch because they'll be offended. These people are retards. The movie leans to the left, it doesn't go all Michael Moore on the bit, it just throws out some opinions. The sad part is that the politics of this issue hardly matter. It's not about WHO is doing it, it's about WHAT is being done.
The film opens with the farewell speech by Dwight Eisenhower as he leaves his post as president in '61. It's amazing. After many years I finally realize that I too, like Ike. He warns the people of the world that now that we have a military we may be compelled to use it for less than ideal reasons. Which of course we have done and continue to do. His prophecy is bitterly accurate. In an aside that speaks volumes he mentions "God forbid what would happen if the President of the United States didn't know the military like I do".
And of course subsequent presidents have been completely incompetent in managing the american war machine since he left the office. So he nailed that one too. Ike was fucking brilliant.
The movie moves on throughout the years and conflicts and elaborates a bit on the mechanications of war. Most frighteningly focusing on Cheney and his plans (in 1992 mind you) to become the world's only super-power and to then manage the world with an iron glove. On the one hand this sounds good, I'm an American and I want clean streets and smooth running engines under the hood and all that. On the other hand, he's basically saying he wants to kill brown people in foreign lands so I can have all that. Which puts me at odds. I kinda like brown people, and I certainly don't want them killed even if I don't like them personally. It's ugly. And it's American Policy.
I recommend this movie to anyone who wants to maybe put the pieces together a little more easily. Basically it comes down to this. We, the american people, spend roughly $750 billion a year annually on "defense". You think we spend that much without expecting some payback? Hence you get your Halliburtons and Lockheed Martins and whatnots. War is business, and in 2006 business is good.
Friday, August 18, 2006
Where We've Been... Again
Another week another dollar, kiddos! And the end of this week brings all of us that much closer to death! Of course for most of us, compared to our work-a-day lives, the cold comfort that is death might be a welcome reprieve.
A couple of quick notes: it has been brought to my attention that locating links is difficult for some of our many readers out there. Ergo, if you see words like this that are underlined or highlighted, you have the opportunity to move your mouse so that the electronic curser is directly above it. Then, but clicking on the left button of your mouse (this is still using your right hand, but the left or pointy finger in compassion to you middle finger) you will then be able to follow the link to the destination that Bad Mother Coitus intended.
That light spring-cleaning out of the way. Readers! Here is your…
TEST OF THE WEEK!!!
Sex and Rock and Roll have gone together like peas and carrots since the dawn of time. Regardless, with this new invention, perhaps the future has been taken a little too far. But, again, dear readers, we leave that for you to decide.
There is quality reporting out there, dear readers, you just need to go out and look for it. Look at this quality programs to Legalizing Drunk Driving.
A place to buy more crap! This intriguing website offers a product of the day at a discounted price available for only 24 hours. Today it is a Scooba, which admittedly does suck, but in the past they’ve had mp3 players and Russian brides (well, technically they don’t have Russian brides but sex sells and, apparently, I’m buying).
Cold War Kids! Congrats you are the BAND OF THE WEEK! They are post punk with a little bit of funk in their junk, blend in some vocals and the piano and you’re programmed for destruction. A fun band as we finish up this trip through the dog days of August and gird up our loins to combat the hardships that come with the Fall.
A couple of quick notes: it has been brought to my attention that locating links is difficult for some of our many readers out there. Ergo, if you see words like this that are underlined or highlighted, you have the opportunity to move your mouse so that the electronic curser is directly above it. Then, but clicking on the left button of your mouse (this is still using your right hand, but the left or pointy finger in compassion to you middle finger) you will then be able to follow the link to the destination that Bad Mother Coitus intended.
That light spring-cleaning out of the way. Readers! Here is your…
TEST OF THE WEEK!!!
Sex and Rock and Roll have gone together like peas and carrots since the dawn of time. Regardless, with this new invention, perhaps the future has been taken a little too far. But, again, dear readers, we leave that for you to decide.
There is quality reporting out there, dear readers, you just need to go out and look for it. Look at this quality programs to Legalizing Drunk Driving.
A place to buy more crap! This intriguing website offers a product of the day at a discounted price available for only 24 hours. Today it is a Scooba, which admittedly does suck, but in the past they’ve had mp3 players and Russian brides (well, technically they don’t have Russian brides but sex sells and, apparently, I’m buying).
Cold War Kids! Congrats you are the BAND OF THE WEEK! They are post punk with a little bit of funk in their junk, blend in some vocals and the piano and you’re programmed for destruction. A fun band as we finish up this trip through the dog days of August and gird up our loins to combat the hardships that come with the Fall.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
The Sunday Drunk
Surely there is no finer thing in the world than having alcohol readily available to one at their local grocery store. This is much more fine to a newly arrived immigrant who truly appreciates having alcohol at the grocery store; compounded by the fact that this sweet sin is available for purchase and later consumption on Sunday.
It was good for Pedro as well. He has been going through strenuous ninja training and was in need of a beer. Ninja training, for those of you that have as yet to partake in it, is a fairly rigorous endeavor. It requires one to stay on a strict diet of White Russians and to maintain vitamin balance and constant viewings of Shark Week on the Discovery Channel to bolster one’s soul.
Pedro has been doing his best to maintain both of these stipulations. But tonight the two of us held counsel to re-go over our plot to overthrow our vile nemesis: Xanathar the Despicable.
There is, of course a large reward for Xanathar’s capture, a hefty sum that Pedro and I have not overlooked (what with me still being in the “negotiating job stage” and him in Ninja school and all; ninja school, for all that haven’t attended or are thinking of attending is not cheap). Which is why our counsel was held in the only privacy that we knew.
And that is how I landed in jail again. Chicago, while being an incredibly forward thinking community when it comes to having spirits ready to the faithful on the day of rest tends to frown upon counsels of any species in the bathroom.
So as penance for my “crime” they’ve forced me to go to a place far worse than Hell. The Hippie infested vista that overlooks the Pacific: Seattle. I’ve been told that coffee will be readily available to me and I will get to see the EMP and the Science Fiction Museum, which I’m also looking forward to, but it does detain me from bringing Xanathar the Despicable to justice.
I think the whole world suffers.
Pedro meanwhile has to go to Indiana. Which is something I wouldn’t wish on anybody.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Male Strip Clubs ( Public Service by Balddee)
Gina is getting married in a week and her girlfriends are preparing to throw her a shower or party and in the mix they are bragging about taking her to a Strip Club for Women.
Now......Let's just hold on a second here .
I have stated time and time again that Women are smarter then Men and I really do believe this statement to be true .
But let's discuss the notion of Strip Clubs designed for Women .
What is the Fucking Point !!!!
We are all aware of what goes on at a normal strip Club and why they exist.
Why do they exist you may say ?
They exist because men overall are pigs, and I confess to that, porker jokes aside the real reason we have strip clubs is because they help men cope with the hard restraints in real life that can never happen they are there to ease the pain that only women can and could experience .
As I have stated in previous Genius Filled Blogs such as http://thebmc.blogspot.com/2006/04/charade-of-decency.html
This is just another display of the more intelligent sex not being honest with themselves and what they really want .
What is that ?
Simple Strip Clubs exist because every Man would like to see a women put there ass in his face . or Lap dances ect .
Imagine if a guy knew he could get these things he would not go to a Strip Club, but women , oh you smarter sex you deny yourselves the true pleasures that many of you want secretly women desire some man's junk shaking in her face, she wants lap dances she wants some guy to pick her up and dry hump her like a 2 cent whore and it's time to stop fucking fighting it and simply ask for it together united we can change the law and have open in public displays of Strip club dancing all over this fair land .
But all you naysayers must be stopped .
Ladies you don't have to pay for a dance just walk down to the grocery store or local gym and simply ask for some guy to wiggle his junk in your face why not is It because you know that it will happen do you see the power is in the palm of your hand ( pun intended )
Now......Let's just hold on a second here .
I have stated time and time again that Women are smarter then Men and I really do believe this statement to be true .
But let's discuss the notion of Strip Clubs designed for Women .
What is the Fucking Point !!!!
We are all aware of what goes on at a normal strip Club and why they exist.
Why do they exist you may say ?
They exist because men overall are pigs, and I confess to that, porker jokes aside the real reason we have strip clubs is because they help men cope with the hard restraints in real life that can never happen they are there to ease the pain that only women can and could experience .
As I have stated in previous Genius Filled Blogs such as http://thebmc.blogspot.com/2006/04/charade-of-decency.html
This is just another display of the more intelligent sex not being honest with themselves and what they really want .
What is that ?
Simple Strip Clubs exist because every Man would like to see a women put there ass in his face . or Lap dances ect .
Imagine if a guy knew he could get these things he would not go to a Strip Club, but women , oh you smarter sex you deny yourselves the true pleasures that many of you want secretly women desire some man's junk shaking in her face, she wants lap dances she wants some guy to pick her up and dry hump her like a 2 cent whore and it's time to stop fucking fighting it and simply ask for it together united we can change the law and have open in public displays of Strip club dancing all over this fair land .
But all you naysayers must be stopped .
Ladies you don't have to pay for a dance just walk down to the grocery store or local gym and simply ask for some guy to wiggle his junk in your face why not is It because you know that it will happen do you see the power is in the palm of your hand ( pun intended )
I like L.A.
I stayed over at Carl's and Brenda's place the night before I had to Leave L.A they had a barbeque for me and a couple of other people from the class who were going back home now that the Class is over .
( For any new Readers I was in an Anger Management Class for a couple of weeks )
Carl is a great guy and Brenda is a nice lady and smart and she made a lot of Progress when we were Class.
" Yeah Brenda was the Angry one in there relationship ".
I don't think I have ever been to a barbeque where there was so much Fucking Tofu good gracious it was fine, but man can I get a STEAK nothing like partying with a bunch of recovering Angry people / vegetarians that reminded me that for this one evening they were saving me from having Super Smelly Shit and MEAT INDUCED BALL SACK ODOR ha good times indeed .
So during the course of the barbeque we all decide to sneak up the hill where the famous Hollywood Sign resides since they live a block away from the fucking thing.
Something about sitting there at the cusp of dusk listening to Massive Attack
( That's all Carl will listen to ) watching the City was beautiful and sad I can see why they make flicks here, the sight can inspire, it makes you to want to do something cinematic . Carl rambled off how many Movies have used Mezzanine as there soundtrack, I just sat there in awe of the City I never really take in my surroundings I will try to change that once I return home .
You sit there and watch the sky change color it was beautiful until you realize that the change in color of the sky was mainly due to the fucking Smog L.A is not the place for Asthma suffers .
The best thing about a bunch of tipsy people is the geek in other people starts to surface all sorts of silly conversation, Sarah and Fritz yeah his name is Fritz (I think he was from Amsterdam) starts to come out talking about Vampires, which triggered memories of the Lost Boys for me and that kind of freaked me out for a second , love the sweet sweet booze the Conversation got heated cause someone threw in the race topic
" Can White writers ever do a Black Superhero Justice without him being a thug " Which I will blog about at another day . that GOT UGLY .
As the sun continued to set someone talked Carl into changing the music and as if Massive Attack was keeping the last remaining flickers of the sun up in the Sky, the change of music brought the City's night lights into full spectrum slowly they began to creep into supremacy over the last inkling of natural light .
The intro of Riders of the Storm came on . I smirked .
And had another Beer I like L.A .
<
( For any new Readers I was in an Anger Management Class for a couple of weeks )
Carl is a great guy and Brenda is a nice lady and smart and she made a lot of Progress when we were Class.
" Yeah Brenda was the Angry one in there relationship ".
I don't think I have ever been to a barbeque where there was so much Fucking Tofu good gracious it was fine, but man can I get a STEAK nothing like partying with a bunch of recovering Angry people / vegetarians that reminded me that for this one evening they were saving me from having Super Smelly Shit and MEAT INDUCED BALL SACK ODOR ha good times indeed .
So during the course of the barbeque we all decide to sneak up the hill where the famous Hollywood Sign resides since they live a block away from the fucking thing.
Something about sitting there at the cusp of dusk listening to Massive Attack
( That's all Carl will listen to ) watching the City was beautiful and sad I can see why they make flicks here, the sight can inspire, it makes you to want to do something cinematic . Carl rambled off how many Movies have used Mezzanine as there soundtrack, I just sat there in awe of the City I never really take in my surroundings I will try to change that once I return home .
You sit there and watch the sky change color it was beautiful until you realize that the change in color of the sky was mainly due to the fucking Smog L.A is not the place for Asthma suffers .
The best thing about a bunch of tipsy people is the geek in other people starts to surface all sorts of silly conversation, Sarah and Fritz yeah his name is Fritz (I think he was from Amsterdam) starts to come out talking about Vampires, which triggered memories of the Lost Boys for me and that kind of freaked me out for a second , love the sweet sweet booze the Conversation got heated cause someone threw in the race topic
" Can White writers ever do a Black Superhero Justice without him being a thug " Which I will blog about at another day . that GOT UGLY .
As the sun continued to set someone talked Carl into changing the music and as if Massive Attack was keeping the last remaining flickers of the sun up in the Sky, the change of music brought the City's night lights into full spectrum slowly they began to creep into supremacy over the last inkling of natural light .
The intro of Riders of the Storm came on . I smirked .
And had another Beer I like L.A .
<
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
No More Accents
Who was the Master Mind behind the about face of the British Accent ?
I mean we have all said it at one time that the Most wimpiest Accent in the Known world is the British Accent "To any British readers don't get mad read on before you try to beat me to death" this is actually a compliment to any British person it's because your accent is so Proper that it sounds Wimpy .
We all know American English is all but Fucked up I mean c'mon people Why the fuck is Camel Pronounced Kamel but it's spelt with a C .
But that's another issue .
American TV and Films have been bombarded with the Accent and the association that a British Accent = Tough guy or it equals a tough rude smart Ass.
American Idol , America's got Talent, So you can dance or whatever shit even the Cooking Show !!
This really has to stop !!
O.k. I get it a British Accent can sound tough quite ramming it down my throat .
This has worn itself out bring on the Rude Russian or the Crazed Aussie
"NO Mel GIBSON COMMENTS "
I mean we have all said it at one time that the Most wimpiest Accent in the Known world is the British Accent "To any British readers don't get mad read on before you try to beat me to death" this is actually a compliment to any British person it's because your accent is so Proper that it sounds Wimpy .
We all know American English is all but Fucked up I mean c'mon people Why the fuck is Camel Pronounced Kamel but it's spelt with a C .
But that's another issue .
American TV and Films have been bombarded with the Accent and the association that a British Accent = Tough guy or it equals a tough rude smart Ass.
American Idol , America's got Talent, So you can dance or whatever shit even the Cooking Show !!
This really has to stop !!
O.k. I get it a British Accent can sound tough quite ramming it down my throat .
This has worn itself out bring on the Rude Russian or the Crazed Aussie
"NO Mel GIBSON COMMENTS "
Monday, August 14, 2006
hot dog version 5.1
We roamed the streets in a general south easterly direction. After disembarking the el train (packed & clammy like a handful of sardines in oil that had been sitting in the sun all day – and quite as pleasant smelling), our little posse struck out towards the Celebration on the Shore. This year, it boasted of 25+ boats, all personally owned by the richest CEOs and trust fund babies in the city (and surrounding suburban vicinity). The boats would be decorated in the traditional array of Christmas lights, gaudy enough to bring a tear to Clark Griswold’s eye. After the glittering parade passes, a $4M firework display will leap from the pier and into the air, exploding in a frenzy for Your Viewing Pleasure. And predictably there will be food. Lots of food.
My posse consisted of Medtronic Girl and her husband School Boy – famous in their hometown for their ability to voraciously eat their way across foreign cities. Other party members were B and myself – infamous for our mass consumption of processed goods. Together, our posse was on a quest to find a Chicago Hot Dog.
Our soul reason for jumping on an el at 10pm on a Saturday night, on a festival night, on an 85 degree night, was NOT, as we had previously claimed and still verbally expounded on, for the fireworks and gaudy boats. No. it was for the food. Food, glorious food!
Our trek began in high spirits – it was still early enough for a street vendor. But we could not find any. The streets were packed with people, but not a cart in sight. We tried the side streets, searching for one of those falafel/hot dog/funnel cake stores you only find in Chicago (if they exist elsewhere, please, don’t go unless you’re drunk). Unfazed, we headed towards grant park and the amassing crowd.
It has been my experience at these functions that street vendors form in gaggles, creating long lines of hungry humans that disrupt the flow of traffic. Perhaps it was due to the lateness of this event. Perhaps the heat wave was to blame. But when we arrived at our destination, not a whiff of food was to be inhaled.
Dejected, we gathered at a light pole on the bridge that crosses Lake Shore Drive. Boats tooted and people waved. Cheers rose and lights blinked. Coordinated music filtered around us through loudspeakers, headphones and boom boxes. Fireworks filled the air. But with each explosion, my stomach grumbled. With each cheer I bestowed on the gorgeous yet expensive display, I groaned a little inside. And I knew my compatriots were grumbling and groaning along with me.
It was a beautiful show. I have to say, it was mind boggling when the 5000 foot yacht arrived in disco splendor, spouting the beegees, adorned in disco balls and draped with scantily clad men and women in fake afros.
But the greatest of all was missing – the feeling of a stomach full of local fare.
Medtronic Girl’s hunger had been distracted by the fireworks and she couldn’t stop comparing them to her quaint hometown’s meager display each fourth of july. School Boy nodded along with her, but his lip was visibly trembling with frustration and hunger. B? well… I can she was in the same sad boat as me – crabby, tired, hungry and jaded.
Our faith was fading fast. The Chicago food scene had not let me down yet. And still, my optimism was challenged with each heavy step back to the el train and home. But then, a guy accosted me while we waited for a traffic light to change.
Creepy Middle-Aged Gang Banger: “hey, thems my colors! Why you wearin my colors?”
Me: “um, my bandana?”
CMAGB: “yeah! Mah colors!” laughs… mutters something unintelligible…
School Boy: “pink? Your colors are pink?”
CMAGB: “no, mothafucka! Dat!!” and he points to the paisley print on my pink bandana, which is a rough, generic swirl with a few dots strategically placed – nothing I had really taken notice of before.
School Boy: “you mean… your SHAPES?”
CMAGB: laughs… “mothafucka...” laughs more, “yeah!! Mah colors!! She’s wearin mah colors! What you lookin for? Trouble? In my hood, you get CUT…” mumbles…
Pause.
Me: “well, we’re actually looking for hot dogs.”
CMAGB: “mothafucka, they right THERE! Sheeeit… dumb asses”
We look to where he’s pointing. It’s a booth in Millenium Park. It’s one of those permanent stands, a titch overpriced b/c of the nearby tourist trap… but it was open.
Me: “huh… thanks”
CMAGB: “you gonna help a brotha out? I need a light. You got a light?” he shows us his “cigarette”.
School Boy: “no… we don’t smoke. Sorry. But thanks for the recommendation!”
CMAGB: “yeah… hell, mothafucka!...” laughs… mutters…. Turns around and accosts the people behind us.
The light changes, and we stay put. People push past us and kick our ankles. But in our sights, what we behold in our shining eyes is a hot dog stand. As if our souls had been sucked away to the great unknown, we shuffled forward and paid homage.
It is said that a true Chicago dog is as follows:
1 poppy seed bun
1 Hebrew National or Vienna Beef hot dog
Tomatoes (sliced in half moons)
Diced white onions
Sweet relish
Hot peppers
1 pickle spear
Mustard (NO KETCHUP)
Celery Salt
It is also said that a true Chicago dog lover is in heaven after shelling out $3 for one of these glorious creations to a street vendor.
Our posse licked our fingers clean, disposed of the napkins and tinfoil and sauntered back to the sardine can el train, a little fatter, a little wiser, and a little happier. Mission accomplished.
My posse consisted of Medtronic Girl and her husband School Boy – famous in their hometown for their ability to voraciously eat their way across foreign cities. Other party members were B and myself – infamous for our mass consumption of processed goods. Together, our posse was on a quest to find a Chicago Hot Dog.
Our soul reason for jumping on an el at 10pm on a Saturday night, on a festival night, on an 85 degree night, was NOT, as we had previously claimed and still verbally expounded on, for the fireworks and gaudy boats. No. it was for the food. Food, glorious food!
Our trek began in high spirits – it was still early enough for a street vendor. But we could not find any. The streets were packed with people, but not a cart in sight. We tried the side streets, searching for one of those falafel/hot dog/funnel cake stores you only find in Chicago (if they exist elsewhere, please, don’t go unless you’re drunk). Unfazed, we headed towards grant park and the amassing crowd.
It has been my experience at these functions that street vendors form in gaggles, creating long lines of hungry humans that disrupt the flow of traffic. Perhaps it was due to the lateness of this event. Perhaps the heat wave was to blame. But when we arrived at our destination, not a whiff of food was to be inhaled.
Dejected, we gathered at a light pole on the bridge that crosses Lake Shore Drive. Boats tooted and people waved. Cheers rose and lights blinked. Coordinated music filtered around us through loudspeakers, headphones and boom boxes. Fireworks filled the air. But with each explosion, my stomach grumbled. With each cheer I bestowed on the gorgeous yet expensive display, I groaned a little inside. And I knew my compatriots were grumbling and groaning along with me.
It was a beautiful show. I have to say, it was mind boggling when the 5000 foot yacht arrived in disco splendor, spouting the beegees, adorned in disco balls and draped with scantily clad men and women in fake afros.
But the greatest of all was missing – the feeling of a stomach full of local fare.
Medtronic Girl’s hunger had been distracted by the fireworks and she couldn’t stop comparing them to her quaint hometown’s meager display each fourth of july. School Boy nodded along with her, but his lip was visibly trembling with frustration and hunger. B? well… I can she was in the same sad boat as me – crabby, tired, hungry and jaded.
Our faith was fading fast. The Chicago food scene had not let me down yet. And still, my optimism was challenged with each heavy step back to the el train and home. But then, a guy accosted me while we waited for a traffic light to change.
Creepy Middle-Aged Gang Banger: “hey, thems my colors! Why you wearin my colors?”
Me: “um, my bandana?”
CMAGB: “yeah! Mah colors!” laughs… mutters something unintelligible…
School Boy: “pink? Your colors are pink?”
CMAGB: “no, mothafucka! Dat!!” and he points to the paisley print on my pink bandana, which is a rough, generic swirl with a few dots strategically placed – nothing I had really taken notice of before.
School Boy: “you mean… your SHAPES?”
CMAGB: laughs… “mothafucka...” laughs more, “yeah!! Mah colors!! She’s wearin mah colors! What you lookin for? Trouble? In my hood, you get CUT…” mumbles…
Pause.
Me: “well, we’re actually looking for hot dogs.”
CMAGB: “mothafucka, they right THERE! Sheeeit… dumb asses”
We look to where he’s pointing. It’s a booth in Millenium Park. It’s one of those permanent stands, a titch overpriced b/c of the nearby tourist trap… but it was open.
Me: “huh… thanks”
CMAGB: “you gonna help a brotha out? I need a light. You got a light?” he shows us his “cigarette”.
School Boy: “no… we don’t smoke. Sorry. But thanks for the recommendation!”
CMAGB: “yeah… hell, mothafucka!...” laughs… mutters…. Turns around and accosts the people behind us.
The light changes, and we stay put. People push past us and kick our ankles. But in our sights, what we behold in our shining eyes is a hot dog stand. As if our souls had been sucked away to the great unknown, we shuffled forward and paid homage.
It is said that a true Chicago dog is as follows:
1 poppy seed bun
1 Hebrew National or Vienna Beef hot dog
Tomatoes (sliced in half moons)
Diced white onions
Sweet relish
Hot peppers
1 pickle spear
Mustard (NO KETCHUP)
Celery Salt
It is also said that a true Chicago dog lover is in heaven after shelling out $3 for one of these glorious creations to a street vendor.
Our posse licked our fingers clean, disposed of the napkins and tinfoil and sauntered back to the sardine can el train, a little fatter, a little wiser, and a little happier. Mission accomplished.
10,000 pounds of love
i spent all of saturday morning and most of the afternoon working harder than i can ever recall working. the old guy needed help with the removal of a cement slab in his backyard. the cement slab was reportedly assisting water in getting into the basement. a terrible crime. the cement slab was not available to comment.
so the plan was to use a jackhammer and break up the cement. To then remove it via a rented trailer and finally to drink a beer or two in contented weariness and move on with our lives. the players include myself, the old guy and the poor guy that my sister married. the poor guy is actually a great guy but also gets stuck helping with these monstrous endeavors because he's tough and handy.
so we broke up the concrete with the jackhammer. which, if you haven't tried it, is a great way to kill a few hours and an even better way to destroy every muscle in your forearms. it hurts to hold a pen today. thank you jackhammer for this fantastic new realm of pain.
unfortunately the concrete was 8 inches thick instead of the standard 3-4 inches. and it was reinforced by wire. so we had to use the jackhammer, then a prybar to further separate the chunks, then snip the wires that were holding them together. and then, as a reward, we got to pick up the chunks and throw them into the trailer.
in total we dropped off just short of ten thousand pounds of concrete at the dump. so what makes this all okay? the old guy. harmon tends to have issues with respect for most individuals, but not with him. the sad part is, even if i busted my ass helping him with projects like this every day for the next three years we'd still be a long way from even on the ol' favor scale. dad's are tough to keep up with that way.
so the plan was to use a jackhammer and break up the cement. To then remove it via a rented trailer and finally to drink a beer or two in contented weariness and move on with our lives. the players include myself, the old guy and the poor guy that my sister married. the poor guy is actually a great guy but also gets stuck helping with these monstrous endeavors because he's tough and handy.
so we broke up the concrete with the jackhammer. which, if you haven't tried it, is a great way to kill a few hours and an even better way to destroy every muscle in your forearms. it hurts to hold a pen today. thank you jackhammer for this fantastic new realm of pain.
unfortunately the concrete was 8 inches thick instead of the standard 3-4 inches. and it was reinforced by wire. so we had to use the jackhammer, then a prybar to further separate the chunks, then snip the wires that were holding them together. and then, as a reward, we got to pick up the chunks and throw them into the trailer.
in total we dropped off just short of ten thousand pounds of concrete at the dump. so what makes this all okay? the old guy. harmon tends to have issues with respect for most individuals, but not with him. the sad part is, even if i busted my ass helping him with projects like this every day for the next three years we'd still be a long way from even on the ol' favor scale. dad's are tough to keep up with that way.
Friday, August 11, 2006
Where We've Been... Again
Good Morning Kiddos... Another lame link article for all of you anonymous folks out there. Still, hope that you enjoy them...
TEST OF THE WEEK
When pop icons go bad. Or at least get drunk... this is what happens.
Signs that the apocolypse is upon us. If this doesn't convince Baldee that the world will be ending soon, I don't know what will
The official band of the week.
Okay, sorry lame-o link post, but you all try working with these savages. I'm sure that the folks that invented Easter Island, even though they're dead are still smarter than this group of folks.
TEST OF THE WEEK
When pop icons go bad. Or at least get drunk... this is what happens.
Signs that the apocolypse is upon us. If this doesn't convince Baldee that the world will be ending soon, I don't know what will
The official band of the week.
Okay, sorry lame-o link post, but you all try working with these savages. I'm sure that the folks that invented Easter Island, even though they're dead are still smarter than this group of folks.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Cobra
Could all the world really stop COBRA !!!
I mean really if all the world unified together could they defeat Cobra LA LA LA LA
Serpentor was a complete do as I say not as I do or was it just simply "DO AS I SAY" ( that by the way is my motto )
"You know shut your hole do as your told "
He was stronger than your average person Why ?? That was never really made clear I mean Cobra had the technology to make a living person off of DNA from a thousand years ago.
"And were making a stink about Stem Cells ? "
He had the war experience to take over Washington for a while but of course they made them loose whatever Propaganda
Anyway Cobra really was a tight moving operation and there really was no way GI Joe could of won if it were real .
Yeah cobra commander was just a fruity yet no so androgynous rip off of various other drodgy type villains from G-Force to Transor Z.
But his raspy voice and obsession for world domination is something even the Hippest one of us could understand and relate to .
I mean we all have said at one time "the world would be better under my Rule" and please save your self righteous Bullshit for another day you know good and well that you agree with that setintment .
The Baroness aside from her curves was a blood thirsty power hungry chick who could probably kill her lover with her firm yet shapely thighs can someone say Pussy Galore .
I always thought that Destro would be ramming the Baroness while Xamot and Tomax filmed it for Cobra's Porn division have I gone to far on that on .?
I wont discuss GI Joe cause basically they suck
I mean really if all the world unified together could they defeat Cobra LA LA LA LA
Serpentor was a complete do as I say not as I do or was it just simply "DO AS I SAY" ( that by the way is my motto )
"You know shut your hole do as your told "
He was stronger than your average person Why ?? That was never really made clear I mean Cobra had the technology to make a living person off of DNA from a thousand years ago.
"And were making a stink about Stem Cells ? "
He had the war experience to take over Washington for a while but of course they made them loose whatever Propaganda
Anyway Cobra really was a tight moving operation and there really was no way GI Joe could of won if it were real .
Yeah cobra commander was just a fruity yet no so androgynous rip off of various other drodgy type villains from G-Force to Transor Z.
But his raspy voice and obsession for world domination is something even the Hippest one of us could understand and relate to .
I mean we all have said at one time "the world would be better under my Rule" and please save your self righteous Bullshit for another day you know good and well that you agree with that setintment .
The Baroness aside from her curves was a blood thirsty power hungry chick who could probably kill her lover with her firm yet shapely thighs can someone say Pussy Galore .
I always thought that Destro would be ramming the Baroness while Xamot and Tomax filmed it for Cobra's Porn division have I gone to far on that on .?
I wont discuss GI Joe cause basically they suck
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Minutes from the 29th Congressional Meeting of the State of Mule
The following issues have been brought for advisement as the 29th Congressional House of Mule conveys.
Issue #1 Tooth Brushing: This has been a problematic issue that has long been tabled and has never achieved a bi-partisan bill. Largely because the brain, while cognizant of the need to ensure a well balanced appearance to the outside world, has always been in favor of arriving on time (or around time) for necessary appointments.
The work around model has been Proposition #32 which stated: “Mule shall always brush his teeth with his shirt off in order to maintain the maximum amount of toothpaste residual from escaping mouth and dropping onto his clean shirt”
While Proposition #32 has, for the most part, been a large success, with the amount of free time that seems to have fallen into my lap the hands and eyes are bringing a joint proposal to retrain myself into the art of tooth brushing thereby ensuring that once I am busy again a better system will be in place.
Issue #2 More Better Mental Map of Chicago: This is an emergency bill that was paper clipped to the Resolving to Watch More Cubs Games Bill. The original bill was thought to breeze through the Mule Congress but with this paperclip, proposed by Sensibility, it appears that it might be stalled.
It is a good bill, made more poignant by a wrong turn taken yesterday that launched the entire state of Mule on a scenic tour through Chicago’s Little Mexico and the South Side. However, the Go On and Party (or GOP) group has vowed to stonewall this at the brain, sighting that this goes against their bill of “No Fun Left Behind” that has been in effect (and as they say, “working”) for the past twenty odd years.
Issue #3 Finding a Job: The GOP stands firmly against this issue as it goes against what they say their group was founded to guard against. However, the pangs and arrows that are attached to Inevitability and the Bank Account will forever menace the GOP. Still, it has to be better than the warehouse I was told to interview at yesterday or the hour and a half of traffic that I was forced to wade through as I attended Chicago’s Southern Suburbs yesterday.
Issue #1 Tooth Brushing: This has been a problematic issue that has long been tabled and has never achieved a bi-partisan bill. Largely because the brain, while cognizant of the need to ensure a well balanced appearance to the outside world, has always been in favor of arriving on time (or around time) for necessary appointments.
The work around model has been Proposition #32 which stated: “Mule shall always brush his teeth with his shirt off in order to maintain the maximum amount of toothpaste residual from escaping mouth and dropping onto his clean shirt”
While Proposition #32 has, for the most part, been a large success, with the amount of free time that seems to have fallen into my lap the hands and eyes are bringing a joint proposal to retrain myself into the art of tooth brushing thereby ensuring that once I am busy again a better system will be in place.
Issue #2 More Better Mental Map of Chicago: This is an emergency bill that was paper clipped to the Resolving to Watch More Cubs Games Bill. The original bill was thought to breeze through the Mule Congress but with this paperclip, proposed by Sensibility, it appears that it might be stalled.
It is a good bill, made more poignant by a wrong turn taken yesterday that launched the entire state of Mule on a scenic tour through Chicago’s Little Mexico and the South Side. However, the Go On and Party (or GOP) group has vowed to stonewall this at the brain, sighting that this goes against their bill of “No Fun Left Behind” that has been in effect (and as they say, “working”) for the past twenty odd years.
Issue #3 Finding a Job: The GOP stands firmly against this issue as it goes against what they say their group was founded to guard against. However, the pangs and arrows that are attached to Inevitability and the Bank Account will forever menace the GOP. Still, it has to be better than the warehouse I was told to interview at yesterday or the hour and a half of traffic that I was forced to wade through as I attended Chicago’s Southern Suburbs yesterday.
Monday, August 07, 2006
I shall now attempt to fistfight my subconscious
blink by Malcolm Gladwell
I finished Blink this past weekend. It's a quick read and I recommend it to anyone who likes to A) read something profound B) feel the need to share this amazing discovery with others immediately and C) kinda want to learn about themselves without discussing which planet their sex hails from. Pretty fascinating book. The essence of which is that we all, in a matter of milliseconds, make a decision with our subconscious mind that impacts our conscious mind without us necessarily knowing it.
For example, let's say I tell Balldee that I think he's an idiot. In the split second after saying this his face will register anger, then calm, then a smile because he knows I'm just trying to get him riled up. This all happens in maybe 2 seconds but I understand it all. How? That's what the book attempts to answer.
The fascinating part, which also doubles as the part that pisses me off, is how our preconceived notions impact us. In the book Gladwell explains a study conducted at Harvard (or some other ivy league school, it matters not) in which the subject is shown a series of photos. These photos are shown for less than a second at a time and the subject has to associate them with each other in a split second, basically without consciously thinking. A gun, a wrench, a white person and a black person make up the photos. I don't recall exactly but the subjects associated the gun with the black person and the wrench with the white person. This happened for all subjects of all races. This happened around 85% of the time.
That's sad because it means somewhere deeply imbedded within us we have certain notions about people that WE DON'T EVEN GET TO WEIGH IN ON CONSCIOUSLY. We just see the photos and automatically unite "gun" with "black person". That's just sad, particularly because I think most people aren't intentionally racist. This study shows that they may not have a choice.
The amazing thing is that even when the subject is told ahead of time what he's going to see he still makes the same decision. So good natured people who are not racists still associate "gun" with "black person" even when they're consciously trying not to do so. The school did many tests. The only way to change your score in a significant manner was to "prime" the subject. Before the test the subject would be shown photos of successful and respected black people. Colin Powell, Bill Cosby, Nelson Mandela. After looking at these photos the scores changed dramatically and basically split the gun votes between white and black people.
What does this tell us? That spending time with people other than those from our backgrounds (after all this isn't just about race, it can be about gender, sexual preference or D&D enthusiasts) is the only way to change your subconscious choices. The only way to overcome the bullshit shown in the news is to have personal experience to rely on.
So folks, I implore you, hang out with people who are not like you. It's the only way we're going to change what our stupid fucking subconsciousness is telling us. We can't control what our subconscious thinks right now, but that can change if we want it to. Let's start today. Let's start with a hug. Who wants a hug? Come and get your love!
I finished Blink this past weekend. It's a quick read and I recommend it to anyone who likes to A) read something profound B) feel the need to share this amazing discovery with others immediately and C) kinda want to learn about themselves without discussing which planet their sex hails from. Pretty fascinating book. The essence of which is that we all, in a matter of milliseconds, make a decision with our subconscious mind that impacts our conscious mind without us necessarily knowing it.
For example, let's say I tell Balldee that I think he's an idiot. In the split second after saying this his face will register anger, then calm, then a smile because he knows I'm just trying to get him riled up. This all happens in maybe 2 seconds but I understand it all. How? That's what the book attempts to answer.
The fascinating part, which also doubles as the part that pisses me off, is how our preconceived notions impact us. In the book Gladwell explains a study conducted at Harvard (or some other ivy league school, it matters not) in which the subject is shown a series of photos. These photos are shown for less than a second at a time and the subject has to associate them with each other in a split second, basically without consciously thinking. A gun, a wrench, a white person and a black person make up the photos. I don't recall exactly but the subjects associated the gun with the black person and the wrench with the white person. This happened for all subjects of all races. This happened around 85% of the time.
That's sad because it means somewhere deeply imbedded within us we have certain notions about people that WE DON'T EVEN GET TO WEIGH IN ON CONSCIOUSLY. We just see the photos and automatically unite "gun" with "black person". That's just sad, particularly because I think most people aren't intentionally racist. This study shows that they may not have a choice.
The amazing thing is that even when the subject is told ahead of time what he's going to see he still makes the same decision. So good natured people who are not racists still associate "gun" with "black person" even when they're consciously trying not to do so. The school did many tests. The only way to change your score in a significant manner was to "prime" the subject. Before the test the subject would be shown photos of successful and respected black people. Colin Powell, Bill Cosby, Nelson Mandela. After looking at these photos the scores changed dramatically and basically split the gun votes between white and black people.
What does this tell us? That spending time with people other than those from our backgrounds (after all this isn't just about race, it can be about gender, sexual preference or D&D enthusiasts) is the only way to change your subconscious choices. The only way to overcome the bullshit shown in the news is to have personal experience to rely on.
So folks, I implore you, hang out with people who are not like you. It's the only way we're going to change what our stupid fucking subconsciousness is telling us. We can't control what our subconscious thinks right now, but that can change if we want it to. Let's start today. Let's start with a hug. Who wants a hug? Come and get your love!
Friday, August 04, 2006
All right Kiddos, here it is… let us know what the scores are that you’ve achieved, it’s Bad Mother Coitus’
TEST OF THE WEEK
What would happen if Darth Vader would quit the business of Dark Lord of the Sith prior to throwing the Emperor from the newly constructed and fully operations Death Star. Perhaps… this.
self-proclaimed "greatest website in the universe". From one dumbass to another: read the hatemail here. Feel better about yourself and worse about the world.
This is something that also blew my mind. Of concern:
#1 That there is a game show that documents this
#2 That the four people after the original contestant still went through with it
#3 That people watched it.
#4 That we watched it and are now posting it here
ladies, we love that you do this, aaaaannd this, just for our enjoyment
Jumping Jehosafat! This is something that deserves at least 10,000 words from this website alone. Angel by Shaggy is only #91! The 111 Wussiest Songs of All Time
These sites, and commentary, arranged and whatnot by Mule. Unfortunately he's too stupid to manage the links that he enjoys so much. Sorta like a porn star who can't work with zippers. Fatal flaw my friend, fatal flaw.
TEST OF THE WEEK
What would happen if Darth Vader would quit the business of Dark Lord of the Sith prior to throwing the Emperor from the newly constructed and fully operations Death Star. Perhaps… this.
self-proclaimed "greatest website in the universe". From one dumbass to another: read the hatemail here. Feel better about yourself and worse about the world.
This is something that also blew my mind. Of concern:
#1 That there is a game show that documents this
#2 That the four people after the original contestant still went through with it
#3 That people watched it.
#4 That we watched it and are now posting it here
ladies, we love that you do this, aaaaannd this, just for our enjoyment
Jumping Jehosafat! This is something that deserves at least 10,000 words from this website alone. Angel by Shaggy is only #91! The 111 Wussiest Songs of All Time
These sites, and commentary, arranged and whatnot by Mule. Unfortunately he's too stupid to manage the links that he enjoys so much. Sorta like a porn star who can't work with zippers. Fatal flaw my friend, fatal flaw.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Actual Conversation 4am L.A . TIME
Phone rings at 4:30 am my time and who's on the other end but Mule .
Music blaring in the distance I get this .
Mule : Yo yo yo Mother Fucker what up ..
Balddee : Who the Fuck is this !?
Mule : It's M --to the U to the U to the L It 's Mule man .
Balddee : Man it's fucking 4 in the fucking Morning man what the fuck's wrong with you .
Mule : Hey man where the fuck are you Dog I'm at the K-fed listening party Harmon' s DOING THE ROBOT with Todd Dancer on the bar to Pooposow c'mon thru !!
Balddee : popo, what the, look man I'm going back to sleep man don't call me with this bullshit .
Mule : I'm sorry I'm a fucking idiot POPO ZOW !!!
Balddee : All right go drink some fucking coffee I 'm hanging up .
Suddenly Todd Dancer grabs the phone .
TD : BALLLDDEEE BITCH !! what UP !! .
Balddee : For Pete's sake Todd what the fuck do you want !!
TD : You love L.A ..duh duh duh oh oh YOU LOVE IT !
Balddee : Good night guys .
TD : Wait mother fucker don't hang up did I tell you I'm a Flaccid Penis .
And with that I hung up .
Music blaring in the distance I get this .
Mule : Yo yo yo Mother Fucker what up ..
Balddee : Who the Fuck is this !?
Mule : It's M --to the U to the U to the L It 's Mule man .
Balddee : Man it's fucking 4 in the fucking Morning man what the fuck's wrong with you .
Mule : Hey man where the fuck are you Dog I'm at the K-fed listening party Harmon' s DOING THE ROBOT with Todd Dancer on the bar to Pooposow c'mon thru !!
Balddee : popo, what the, look man I'm going back to sleep man don't call me with this bullshit .
Mule : I'm sorry I'm a fucking idiot POPO ZOW !!!
Balddee : All right go drink some fucking coffee I 'm hanging up .
Suddenly Todd Dancer grabs the phone .
TD : BALLLDDEEE BITCH !! what UP !! .
Balddee : For Pete's sake Todd what the fuck do you want !!
TD : You love L.A ..duh duh duh oh oh YOU LOVE IT !
Balddee : Good night guys .
TD : Wait mother fucker don't hang up did I tell you I'm a Flaccid Penis .
And with that I hung up .
Haircut 100
I recently escaped a very intense situation .
I was out celebrating a birthday with one of my fellow Class mates and for those of you just tuning in ( I'm still in Anger Rehab )
So were out and lets just call this guy Mitch, now Mitch is in the class because he defended his property against a would be thief Mitch was asleep and a thief broke into his home Mitch is a 6'3 300 pound Professional well former Heavy weight boxer .
This thief broke into his home and sadly for him old right hook Mitch is a light sleeper . So he surprised the thief , there was a struggle, and somewhere as he said he set the thief's balls on fire .
Hence he's in the class .
So were at a bar celebrating his birthday and for all his massiveness Mitch really is a ole softy he loves the 80's and still listens to the music heavily , Thompson Twins , Cutting Crew you got the point . So were drinking and Mitch decides to hit up the jukebox to play what appears to be my old high school dance party all over again .
It starts off with Rebel Yell and Mitch is gone in shot air guitar a blazing and screaming the lyrics .
Yes that was annoying but so what it's his birthday .
Four songs later were into the English Beat and clearly some of the patrons are getting annoyed that the variety of music has not changed then I noticed left side of the bar several fellows making gestures our way and pointing to Mitch and yours truly making ugly looks , pointing and laughing murmuring amongst themselves .
And I knew where this was going.
By the time Eurythmics came on our little band of men made there move it was four of them and they were drunk and from there ranks arose there leader He walked up to us and yelled out some very nasty words , made inquires if Mitch and I were a couple and told us that last night was 80's night so stop hogging the jukebox and let the latest song from Fergie play .
I laughed at him and exchanged a couple unpleasantries right back at him and also let him know that it was Mitch's b-day and he's right we shouldn't hog the machine . ( I needed an excuse to end the dance party )
As he turned around one of his boys yelled out "Hey Drew get you another beer."
Upon hearing his name Mitch snapped I mean you can see everything get red around him and I swear I could hear that beeeep booong you know the fight music from Kill Bill.
" Drew your Fucking name is Drew" Mitch yelled out.
You got a chicks name and your stepping to people , within minutes Mitch was beating him senseless with Joe Jackson's Stepping out in the background, for all there talk his buddies were shocked I told them not to get involved She Sells Sanctuary was up next and the rock gets Mitch even more hyped to fight they took my advice someone yelled out " The cops are coming"!
We high tailed it out of there before the cops showed up in beers in hand on to another bar
I was out celebrating a birthday with one of my fellow Class mates and for those of you just tuning in ( I'm still in Anger Rehab )
So were out and lets just call this guy Mitch, now Mitch is in the class because he defended his property against a would be thief Mitch was asleep and a thief broke into his home Mitch is a 6'3 300 pound Professional well former Heavy weight boxer .
This thief broke into his home and sadly for him old right hook Mitch is a light sleeper . So he surprised the thief , there was a struggle, and somewhere as he said he set the thief's balls on fire .
Hence he's in the class .
So were at a bar celebrating his birthday and for all his massiveness Mitch really is a ole softy he loves the 80's and still listens to the music heavily , Thompson Twins , Cutting Crew you got the point . So were drinking and Mitch decides to hit up the jukebox to play what appears to be my old high school dance party all over again .
It starts off with Rebel Yell and Mitch is gone in shot air guitar a blazing and screaming the lyrics .
Yes that was annoying but so what it's his birthday .
Four songs later were into the English Beat and clearly some of the patrons are getting annoyed that the variety of music has not changed then I noticed left side of the bar several fellows making gestures our way and pointing to Mitch and yours truly making ugly looks , pointing and laughing murmuring amongst themselves .
And I knew where this was going.
By the time Eurythmics came on our little band of men made there move it was four of them and they were drunk and from there ranks arose there leader He walked up to us and yelled out some very nasty words , made inquires if Mitch and I were a couple and told us that last night was 80's night so stop hogging the jukebox and let the latest song from Fergie play .
I laughed at him and exchanged a couple unpleasantries right back at him and also let him know that it was Mitch's b-day and he's right we shouldn't hog the machine . ( I needed an excuse to end the dance party )
As he turned around one of his boys yelled out "Hey Drew get you another beer."
Upon hearing his name Mitch snapped I mean you can see everything get red around him and I swear I could hear that beeeep booong you know the fight music from Kill Bill.
" Drew your Fucking name is Drew" Mitch yelled out.
You got a chicks name and your stepping to people , within minutes Mitch was beating him senseless with Joe Jackson's Stepping out in the background, for all there talk his buddies were shocked I told them not to get involved She Sells Sanctuary was up next and the rock gets Mitch even more hyped to fight they took my advice someone yelled out " The cops are coming"!
We high tailed it out of there before the cops showed up in beers in hand on to another bar
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Castration and the Dating Girl
With all of the changes that have been happening at the BMC, I took a quick time out to meet with Marlon Maxey, legal representative to Bad Mother Coitus and the Greatest Beer Drinker in St. Paul, to re-evaluate the implications that could occur should we decide to let Ellen the Intern go.
Maxey has one of the finer legal minds in the entire metro area, however with the mantel of Greatest Beer Drinker in St. Paul also comes responsibility; the responsibility to consume mass quantities of beer in order to keep up his reputation- it's a vicious, vicious cycle. Regardless of however his slurred speech came out, it didn't sound positive and thus we decided to promote Ellen.
Elevating Ellen from an intern to Senior Vice President of Advertising may seem like a brash move on our part. This is made more complicated as we have three people that actually read the articles and, there-by, don't have much of a market to promise our would be advertisers.
But Ellen and I sat down to have our chat about where she feels the advertising in the company should go and what she is going to do to take it there. In all honesty my heart wasn't really in it. Ellen's wasn't really either. She has broken with the Communistic party sighting the abdication of power by Fidel Castro. When I told her it was only for a brief time she pushed her index finger against my lips and told me not to say another word.
She's been reading books on castration lately; light reading for the girl that recently completed reading the Communist Manifesto, and selected works by John Locke and David Hume. The castration, she tells me as she catches my eye eking over the cover, is for her boyfriend. She has grown vexed with him as she believes he slept with another woman.
She sites an evening when her boyfriend was taken out to dinner by a mysterious female friend on a trip down to San Diego. When he didn't respond to a Photoshopped picture of the two of them with Comrade Lenin from a worm’s eye angle, she became nervous. The next day he told her that he had fallen asleep. She doesn't have proof that he slept with this other woman and worse, now doesn't know if she wants to know the truth or if she already does know the truth. But she has become obsessed with it.
But one person's mental breakdown is another person’s gain! With Ellen being promoted to Senior Vice President of Advertising the door opens for other would be internees with the BMC! Think of it as the perfect fall job where you don't get paid but receive tons and tons of great experience. I take my coffee black!
An application will be posted on the site by Friday and we'll close the application process on or around Wednesday of next week.
Good luck to all and congrats to Ellen on her promotion. Sorry your boyfriend is cheating on you!
Maxey has one of the finer legal minds in the entire metro area, however with the mantel of Greatest Beer Drinker in St. Paul also comes responsibility; the responsibility to consume mass quantities of beer in order to keep up his reputation- it's a vicious, vicious cycle. Regardless of however his slurred speech came out, it didn't sound positive and thus we decided to promote Ellen.
Elevating Ellen from an intern to Senior Vice President of Advertising may seem like a brash move on our part. This is made more complicated as we have three people that actually read the articles and, there-by, don't have much of a market to promise our would be advertisers.
But Ellen and I sat down to have our chat about where she feels the advertising in the company should go and what she is going to do to take it there. In all honesty my heart wasn't really in it. Ellen's wasn't really either. She has broken with the Communistic party sighting the abdication of power by Fidel Castro. When I told her it was only for a brief time she pushed her index finger against my lips and told me not to say another word.
She's been reading books on castration lately; light reading for the girl that recently completed reading the Communist Manifesto, and selected works by John Locke and David Hume. The castration, she tells me as she catches my eye eking over the cover, is for her boyfriend. She has grown vexed with him as she believes he slept with another woman.
She sites an evening when her boyfriend was taken out to dinner by a mysterious female friend on a trip down to San Diego. When he didn't respond to a Photoshopped picture of the two of them with Comrade Lenin from a worm’s eye angle, she became nervous. The next day he told her that he had fallen asleep. She doesn't have proof that he slept with this other woman and worse, now doesn't know if she wants to know the truth or if she already does know the truth. But she has become obsessed with it.
But one person's mental breakdown is another person’s gain! With Ellen being promoted to Senior Vice President of Advertising the door opens for other would be internees with the BMC! Think of it as the perfect fall job where you don't get paid but receive tons and tons of great experience. I take my coffee black!
An application will be posted on the site by Friday and we'll close the application process on or around Wednesday of next week.
Good luck to all and congrats to Ellen on her promotion. Sorry your boyfriend is cheating on you!
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
the rescue mission
there are a lot of puddles in my apartment. furry ones with tails. they ooze into dark nooks and spread themselves out on the bathroom tiled floor. it's easy to pick them up - they're rag-doll limp and drip fur with every jostle. it's hard to keep a grip to carry them into the living room. not the clawsteethhissing difficulties usually associated with annoyed cats, but a benign resignation to the oppressive heat that radiates from floor, windows, ceiling and gets trapped close to body by layers of thick fur. these are hot cats. hot DUMB cats.
you see, i'm picking up pedro because he shouldnt be sitting in the sun in on the 100 degree porch. he should be sitting on the couch in the air conditioned living room, getting pet and pampered (even annoying rebels need a little love). you may not have realized this, but pedro has 2 counterparts. They get along rather well. think, the 3 Amigos in fur, not hats. anyways, bailey (aka Chevy Chase) is already in there, sitting on the blue polar fleece blanket, sprawled out and purring. romeo, jealous that i picked up pedro first, is still sitting in the kitchen, sulking. once pedro is in the safe haven, next to b, with a little treat, i go for romeo.
"hi kitty kitty! are you hot? you look hot. lets go to the other room where it's cold!! good boy... good boy!" one must cajole jealous cats. i'm a girl, this is acceptable behavior. I pick the gray puddle up and he collapses in my arms - halfway grateful for attention, halfway resenting the excess body heat. once in the a/c room, he jumps down, swishes his tail and flumps on the ground, exuding "dont touch me". i dont touch him.
the puddles are re-forming into cats again. still dripping fur everywhere, but perking up - playing lightly and enjoying some treats. b and i, ourselves recovering puddles, searching through mindless monday tv for anything at all.
"i'm hungry. lets eat"
"ok, what do you want?"
"leftovers"
"you get them"
"no. you get them"
"rock, paper, scissors?"
"too much effort"
"eff you"
"eff you"
...
"i'm still hungry"
"i'm getting the pizza"
"grab the ice cream too"
"eff you"
"eff you"*
*slightly dramatized for heat intensive purposes (but not by much)
i get up, and brace myself for what lays behind the blanket tacked onto the door frame. WHOOSH. note the lack of exclamation point. it's like getting hit in the face with a sizzling frying pan, minus the bonus bacon. the second i open the fridge i hear "meow... meow... meow?" and 3 newly revitalized kitties have rushed to my "assistance".
"its useless to beg. go away." is all i can muster. i take food into safe haven.
20 minutes later i notice - no cats. dammit. i look out into the abyss. sulking, sloppy, furry puddles again. rescue mission #2 commences...
you see, i'm picking up pedro because he shouldnt be sitting in the sun in on the 100 degree porch. he should be sitting on the couch in the air conditioned living room, getting pet and pampered (even annoying rebels need a little love). you may not have realized this, but pedro has 2 counterparts. They get along rather well. think, the 3 Amigos in fur, not hats. anyways, bailey (aka Chevy Chase) is already in there, sitting on the blue polar fleece blanket, sprawled out and purring. romeo, jealous that i picked up pedro first, is still sitting in the kitchen, sulking. once pedro is in the safe haven, next to b, with a little treat, i go for romeo.
"hi kitty kitty! are you hot? you look hot. lets go to the other room where it's cold!! good boy... good boy!" one must cajole jealous cats. i'm a girl, this is acceptable behavior. I pick the gray puddle up and he collapses in my arms - halfway grateful for attention, halfway resenting the excess body heat. once in the a/c room, he jumps down, swishes his tail and flumps on the ground, exuding "dont touch me". i dont touch him.
the puddles are re-forming into cats again. still dripping fur everywhere, but perking up - playing lightly and enjoying some treats. b and i, ourselves recovering puddles, searching through mindless monday tv for anything at all.
"i'm hungry. lets eat"
"ok, what do you want?"
"leftovers"
"you get them"
"no. you get them"
"rock, paper, scissors?"
"too much effort"
"eff you"
"eff you"
...
"i'm still hungry"
"i'm getting the pizza"
"grab the ice cream too"
"eff you"
"eff you"*
*slightly dramatized for heat intensive purposes (but not by much)
i get up, and brace myself for what lays behind the blanket tacked onto the door frame. WHOOSH. note the lack of exclamation point. it's like getting hit in the face with a sizzling frying pan, minus the bonus bacon. the second i open the fridge i hear "meow... meow... meow?" and 3 newly revitalized kitties have rushed to my "assistance".
"its useless to beg. go away." is all i can muster. i take food into safe haven.
20 minutes later i notice - no cats. dammit. i look out into the abyss. sulking, sloppy, furry puddles again. rescue mission #2 commences...
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