Where We've Been

Coitusers!

Earlier this week The Baker Report recommended peace keeping forces be removed from Iraq. Meanwhile speculation reigned that President Bush would wait to make a definitive time table not only to try to show his confidence in the new formed Iraqi government but also to shift blame from himself and his administration should things go wrong. The UK based Telegraph has this interesting article depicting the two sides in the region, the Sunni-Muslims and the Shia. Making this worse is this chilling quote from Mohsen Rezai, the secretary general of Iranian Expediency Council.

"America destroyed all our enemies in the region. It destroyed the Taliban. It destroyed Saddam Hussein… The Americans got so stuck in the soil of Iraq and Afghanistan that if they manage to drag themselves back to Washington in one piece, they should thank God. America presents us with an opportunity rather than a threat — not because it intended to, but because it miscalculated. They made many mistakes".

But who are we to listen to the actual people that are about to fight over Iraq when we have Bill O’Reilly who knows for a fact that, "[T]he American media is not helping anyone by oversimplifying the situation and rooting for the USA to lose in Iraq."

But Bill O'Reilly isn't the world's only xenophobe. Regardless, here is an excellent website depicting actual English translations that made it into Hong Kong movies. I think I like number 21 the most but number 11 is tempting.

Ah, it is Christmas time. A time to spend time with loved ones; a time to burn through savings accounts like money is of no consequence. But relax, dear reader, it doesn’t make a difference anyhow when two percent of the population has half of the worlds wealth and
“net assets [that’s not savings dear readers] of $2,200 per adult would put a household in the top half of the world wealth distribution.”

Furthering the Christmas spirit an area boy in South Carolina is arrested for opening up his Christmas present early. According to local sources this “Way ups parents street cred across the nation.”

But if you work for Wal-Mart doesn’t Christmas come all year round? After Wal-Mart passed new regulations where it largely cut down it’s full time work force to part time and working for lower wages they pass this morale booster! I honestly wonder what the t-shirt looks like for working there for 20 years.

Last and certainly not least… the trailer for Who Killed the Electric Car…

Diary From the Edge of the Bar… Or For Craig Finn

Smoke peels off the bar in thick strips of conversation. The enamel of thought is left bare in an empty glass of whisky the guy in a studded leather jacket left; he’s the one who should've been the most intelligent one in class but who drops a quarter towards the motion of some local teeny pop band.

Sitting in the Clash there is little left to absorb on a Tuesday night, but there is everything to be had, everything to be gained. The soft wager of another night of an enlarged liver and a child drawing in black against a picture of your lungs are gambled against sit-coms and a micro beers enjoyed in moderation. If there is a Costello’s than this is the only bar that really matters.

The best conversations in the world roll off the tongue in nicotine kisses. An idea, thought by many as rotund, is offered up as the word of God to believers. Questions with no dignity are drawn, quartered and marked, considered and answered in the premium that only a Grain Belt can answer. Hamms steps in as Mother Mary.

Will, you bastard, you always promised me that this stupid world was a stage but what more hope could there be than this thrust theater that’s been thrown at me? What more need be than these belly’s that thrown their silver at a horseshoe bar on the Northside? What more redemption is owed to those blessed with the gift of thought than the therapy administered by the simple servings of a degenerate armed with a public radio degree and a means of a mind cooling liquid?

Yes, mirror… this is me. I am looking at us now. I know who you are. I am the one that does this to us.

Yes, this is it. Fuck… this is it…

Holiday 2006: Back to the Basics!

remember the good days, back when you owned red footie pj's and bounced out of bed at 5am to see what santa left you under the tree? remember shaking each package, and counting the number of presents you got vs. the number your siblings got? it was pure joy, folks. innocent, child-like joy.

where did that joy go? ... i ask myself as i peruse the 8th tshirt website. i used to love the holiday season. i thrived on the advent calendars (bonus if they had little boxes w/ chocolates in them), the garland, tree shopping, light untangling (little fingers are perfect for it, if you dont care about minor shocks along the way, which only builds character, as my dad told me) and anticipation of christmas morning.

for gifts, back in the day, all you had to do was attend your school class' holiday craft day and squish your fingers into clay for a pinch pot, or squish your hands and feet into non-toxic paint and make prints that would, in turn, get framed with popsicle sticks. mom and dad could not have been happier or more surprised!! all that oo-ing and ah-ing... oh the joy!

i ponder exactly this crafty innocence while searching through the 100 entries for "kitchen-aid, anything" at Kohls.com. maybe this year i should avoid the headache of hours wasted in front of screen. maybe this year i can save my aching back the marathon mall walks. maybe this year, i will make hand prints on newsprint, frame them in glittery popsicle sticks and proudly beam as my friends and familly open the package.

oh, what glorious joy will fill us all! now, what would i need.... recycled newsprint paper, popsicle sticks (that means i should go buy popsicles), glitter glue, regular glue, non-toxic paint in festive colors, a plastic bin and my favorite: a smock. i can feel it already!!! the joy is happening! its almost here!

Where We've Been

Coitusers!

The new music website from Bad Mother Coitus is now available for viewing pleasure. In a way it turned into my Chinese Democracy and in a way it still isn’t completely done. If you are unfortunate enough to be operating on either Explorer or Safari you’re not going to see the entire website but… well hopefully it still delivers something.

Further proof that our schools are not in a happy place. It appalls me that our government continues to cut taxes so that we need corporate spending to make up for the losses. The further fact that these special interest groups our able to then influence what and the method that our children learn is despicable.

It’s Chris Matthews so it does take a little to get into it, but it is also an interesting thought. In this piece they make the argument that the next individual to leave Bush's political ensamble will be vice President Dick Cheney. I do believe, and now can’t find any proof to back it up, that the Vice President of a two term President has always run for the office of Presidency in the next election. Cheney probably has limited interest or little support in winning the Presidency but it could be interesting to see whom Bush would replace Cheney with. It would be interesting to see if he tries to save his legacy by appointing the first woman to that office and that woman is Condoleeza Rice.

How do we make ourselves feel better about our government? By drafting our own Fantasy Congress, of course. Frequent reader and pundit of Bad Mother Coitus, Jebus Gurl was kind enough to pass this little peice of awesomness along to me. In your new Fantasy Congress league you draft congress people and then score points with their winning. Seriously, if there is enough interest in this I will draw up a Bad Mother Coitus league.

I don’t know if this is proof that we should have faith in the world and that there is still good out there or if humanity finally has too much time on their hands. A good buddy of mine and I actually shared this dream but instead of capitols we wanted to do it with pizza places. We began that dream on and around the Cathedral Hill and Grand Ave area’s of St. Paul and that is also where the dream ended in sickness. Of course this is also the same individual that is competing with me for who will die of a heart attack first...

Because if that isn’t proof that humanity has too much time on their hands this certainly will.



The proof, dear readers, is in the pudding that the end of the world is upon us. In a small town in Colorado a home owners association and a resident of the sub-division spar over the appropriateness of a Peace sign that has been hung up. A sign that the evil doers are winning or maybe the world is coming to an end.

And finally Coitusers we have Miss Patti Labelle. I really don’t know what disgusts me the most about this: the fact that she is touring mega-churches, the fact that she is touring mega churches and being sponsored by Chrysler or the fact that Patti Labelle is touring mega churches sponsored by Chrysler and all parishioners will be given the opportunity to purchase a Chrysler at the ending of the service in the church’s parking lot. Seriously, Jesus where are you and where is your bullwhip?

We Have Been Gone... and we feel terrible about it

Aaaaaaaaaaand we’re back. Apologies as always to everybody concerned for the delay in the daily articles. We are, of course, embarrassed by all of the happenings, though we do feel much better since the completion of our Customer Service week. The only person that was really hampered by it was Harmon, poor bastard.

One of the speakers, in an attempt to show us what unity is or was or whatever I wasn’t really paying attention, had us doing this thing called a “Trust Fall”. Now in this “Trust Fall” people are supposed to stand in a semi-circle and an individual (Harmon) stands on top of a desk, or elevated level surface, and then the dumbass (Harmon) is supposed to fall backwards and apparently we are all supposed to catch him.

So Harmon fell and there wasn’t any padding or anything so… yes, I’m sure it probably hurt. The art chic concrete floor that we have here at the BMC is not all that forgiving, but Harmon is in a good place now.

No, sorry, not dead. Not yet at least.

He should be coming out of this coma any day now. The only difficult piece is that he only has our corporate health care plan with the savings account thingy that nobody can really understand. So we had to put him in more of a morally ambiguous hospital that may or may not be the basement of the local Day’s Inn. Not that he probably really needs a hospital. I mean for heaven’s sakes he’s just sleeping. I’ve had plenty of hangovers that are far worse than what he is going through.

So the BMC staff was ready to have a little bit of time away from one another and what’s the best way to do this when you work for the cat dropping salary that we are paid? Why you create a Second Life avatar of course (in hind sight, yes we should've joined World of Warcraft).

The process of creating a character then refining the character and then acclimating yourself to the world is quite time consuming. Furthermore is the damning evidence that once you’re in the world of Second Life you need to talk to people, which is the entire reason that I created myself to avoid.

There is, unfortunately, no smiting button within the game. In fact it all works in a queer science fiction like realty where there is no pollution and everybody lives harmoniously. Baldee was the first casualty though he has not been aware of the fact that you could not kill yourself. Gonzo tried to cruise for guys but then realized that you had to spend real money in order to buy them the virtual things they want in the game. Me, I got kicked out. Apparently the makers of the game tend to frown upon those of us who have a language repertoire that involves “shit” or “cum dumpster”.

Seriously, why can't I be the one in the coma?

Buy Now!!!!

The human race has been blessed by Brahmagupta who gave us zero and the negative numbers, Thoth who gave us the ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics, and the Easter Elchies House who continue to give us Macallan whisky… the only whisky that really matters. And now… the next in this Pantheon…

Yes my dear friends how often do you find yourself wondering if you should eat that last piece of pie, wagering that if you worked out later perhaps you could have it? How often do you come home from work and feel tired, realizing that you have put eight hours of your life and soul into your place of employment that you hate and depressed by the fact that tomorrow only brings another day of it? How often are you tired when you come home from work and don't feel like you want to work out?

But what if there was more to life than just that? What if one part of your life could be accounted for by knowing that… it didn’t need to be accounted for?

Yes friends I speak of the mystery and glory that is… the un-opened gym. For the low fee of just $25 dollars a month you have the opportunity to become part of the newest rara avis that is sweeping our fair country. The Holiday's are right around the corner and you know what that means... MORE FOOD! What could be easier than having a little turkey or extra pumpkin pie with whipping cream when you could promise yourself that you would work out… if you could?

Our promise to you is advertisements all over town, to erect buildings that stand with the promise of occupation by large, complicated machinery designed to do something more complicated than the human would ever be capable of comprehending or performing. To give you the freedom of telling your friends, your loved ones, yourself that you will be going to the gym just as soon as humanly possible. As soon as that bloody, sod of a gym opens.

It is the beginning of a new year and resolutions must be made… why not find one for yourself that is keepable?

martha? is that you?

so i'm obsessed with tupperware. its everywhere. in my cube at work, in my drawers at home, on the floor of my car, even in my purse. little square containers that hold graham crackers. big round containers for soup. sandwich holders, m&m boxes, you name it!

i find it soothing to plop leftover stuffing into the appropriate sized container and snap on the lid. i realize this is a tad OCD, but when i dont have the right size at hand, i will wash a dirty, more apt storage device, even if it is crusted over. how joyful i become when i look into my fridge and see the shining rows of food - glowing away in their dull milky facades.

of course, i always store the biggest ones on the bottom. whether it's clean containers being put away in the cupboard or fresh and full containers placed in the fridge, bulky goes on the bottom! it's a mantra of sorts. a calculated methodology, if you will.

for that reason, thanksgiving is my favorite holiday! so many beautiful leftovers to box up and send off with people in nice, even layers. so many ways to use my brand new seasonal tupperware (bought on special at the container store in hues of red and green). i expect this year will be the topper of my tupperware tittering. they say alliteration is gratuitous, but they also say tupperware is gratuitous, and how i disagree!

this year, grandma bought the normal sized turkey, prepared the normal amount of stuffing and cranberry sauce and pirogies... and this year, almost everyone canceled. and so the 30 lb bird will be cut up into equal parts and distributed to the remaining family members for home consumption. a great task for any human! but i welcome this challenge! yes, i shall stuff my face along with everyone else. yes, i shall watch football and rub my belly. and yes, i shall help divvy up all thanksgiving accoutrements accordingly.

and when it's time to bid farewell, i shall ask, would you like red or green?! happy holiday!

The Schedule

Acquire foods for Thanksgiving dinner.

Try to talk wife out of buying "chargers" for the dinner plates. Do this because until recently did not know what a "charager" was and now that I know I do not want to spend $75 on them.

Help wife set out the china so she can plan how Thanksgiving will go over at the Harmon Household.

Much consternation over the lack of a gravy boat. Must find new and creative way to store gravy in an attractive manner.

Acquire silver polish. Do think of the work created by having tarnished silver and silver polish in the same place at the same time.

Re-stock liquor cabinet with good rum (Flor de Cana) and better scotch (Glenmorangie 12 year). Buy some egg nog just so I have an excuse to try the rum.

Laugh vigorously every time I ask the wife for a little Nog.

Do impression of a Chuck E. Cheese bandmember so that the wife can laugh. Strongly consider which song will be the best if forced, in a drunken state, to do the Chuck E. Cheese bandmember impression in front of people other than my wife.

Burn some cd's for my wife, my co-workers and myself so that I don't have to listen to these people say they're bored with music.

Listen to "boys and girls in america" by the Hold Steady again. Man it's fucking good. Listen to "separation sunday" by the Hold Steady because, much like watching Batman Begins and wanting to know how such a force could be created, I have to look back at their previous albums to see them discover their powers.

Make sure the house is spotless so that when I spend way too much time at a friend's house playing video games the wife will not have to be sitting at home alone AND cleaning up after Harmy. Which leads to phone calls and much disruption.

Must purchase some bad port wine and drink it with my father on Thanksgiving, because that's what life's about.

Response :to How to please My Lady

Survey says: Give her Your Credit Card!!!

This is a serious topic near and dear to my heart, Balddee loves to hear the lamentations of the women but I digress at first I wanted to just put a lot of points like #1 tickle her ass with a feather ect, but as with anything training yourself is the first step, my first question to you is "Are you sure your not pleasing her”?
Have you talked to her about what gets her off the problem with us (Men) is that we are trained to think that as long as your thrusting her insides out, your doing the job and sadly that isn't the case it's not even part of the solution.

Whaaatt t dats crazy talk.

Well lets say your above average in size you may be hurting her and not pleasing her, talking to her about what she likes helps and also gives you an idea of what you can do to help the situation plus what pleases you, are you some over achiever?
Are you so into the Porn orgasm that you’re not in tune to what is going on in your own bedroom?
There are certain things you can do, I am a firm believer in conditioning oneself into a fighter in this case you want to be a sexual one can you dance?
I ask this because knowing how to move your body especially your hips helps a lot especially if your small and there's no shame in it, just don't say stupid things like "Who's your daddy “ or Am I wrecking you Honey am I wrecking you " saying those things when you are small or if you just are a lame missionary man is pathetic so forget the porn style ramming and think selfless lover instead.

There's the old know your prey mentality if you don't know where the special parts are maybe it's time to slow down and first read a book especially one with pictures so you have an understanding of where the target is and I don't mean the vagina you cant be a big game hunter if you don't understand what your hunting.

The clit needs to be your friend Master the Clit you Master the Universe.

That is the key to victory and yes I said victory slow down your approach and work on the Foreplay yeah it's redundant, you’ve heard it a millions times but really it's the best way to provide her with the best overall experience. Imagine if you get her going and more importantly get her off several times before you even begin to think about penetration then you my friend have arrived, there is nothing better then seeing a women orgasm, to feel her body tighten and shake, to hear her breathing change as it gets faster and deeper and yes even deeper to see her taunt breast tremble ever so tenderly, to kiss her lips as they get cold from the wetness of her saliva, reel in the joy, as she looses herself to the sensation, to feel her soft yet firm thighs relax and release on your shoulders sorry ..

You will notice I didn't ask if you shot the sheriffs to soon or if your Pipe isn’t up to code those are situations that are difficult to solve well at least the second is if your a quick shoot, there are squeeze techniques that you can practice to hold off it will take some time and if rod manipulation isn't your bad well my friend get over it. Jerk that pole and recondition yourself. Yoga is a great way to help with this stretching and breathing control act . But if you rocking 3 inches Hard!
Public Enemy comes to mind " I can’t do nothing for ya man "

I really would like to help you so if there is a specific thing you are having problem with let me know then we can really try to solve the problem good luck and happy stroking.

They

The blinds closed and I want to sleep. They’re talking. They keep talking. Talking. Talking. Talking. I don’t care.

They have put images up around the office. Feel good comic strips that show me why I should care. The feel good people in the images say that this is something that I should want. That I should want this in order to better me: better me in the company, better my career or better my life.

They feed us into a hall like cattle. The high point is a day away from my computer, away from my thinking about my job; I don’t need to think about my job. They put fun things on the table. They want us to play with these things, to be creative with them but ultimately realize we are not supposed to pay attention to.

We put things up on the wall. They ask us to write what we think about the company. So we write. They gently correct us, No not what you think about the company what you think the company should think about you. We scratch over and draw again. They shake their heads again a slight smile breaking through, No, not that… there should be more positive comments, maybe a nice comment about your bosses…

They fire the girl next to me who stood up and said that all of this is bullshit. She put it a lot more eloquently than that. They fired her a lot more eloquently than what we heard.

They reiterate to us that this is important. They tell us that this is good for everybody and that the most important person is us. They ask us what message we received from our training. They challenge us to retain the lingo and the diversity of the message. Another guy is fired because he doesn’t know what was said in the message. Another nameless temp is hired to replace him at half the price.

And in my head I tick off the dollars of this customer service project. Because I am not really We or They or even Them I know the costs. I know what we spent on this and what could’ve been reinvested in the company towards their employees. In my head I question what was gained by being away from work for the entire day, by us abandoning our customers versus… this…

They draw a line on a board. This line begins at a low part and squiggles in dramatic ups and downs before resting on the up and up. They give me two post it notes and ask me to put them on the board. One post it note is to indicate where I felt I was before the Customer Service Training, the other to indicate after. The journey of my contemporaries already dot the board.

I’m tired. So tired. I don’t want to wake up. I don’t know what I don’t want to wake up from. I hold two post it notes. Neither of them matter to me. They care. I know what I should do. But why?

the first 18 hours

resisting was futile. we were to become a team whether we wanted to or not. together, blindfolded. together, shoved on a shortbus. together, lead kindergarten-style into an undisclosed hotel room. you can tie our hands together, make us wear each other's clothes and even (lord help us) sleep next to each other, but you cant, that's CAN-NOT, folks, force me to let Todd hump my leg. that is NOT, in my humble opinion, a positive team-building experience.

piled into the two rooms with the blinds closed and the in-between safety/fire door propped open, it became apparent that at least 50% of us had not showered in the last few days. Simon #1 remedied this by exiting the room. close on his heels was Simon #2 promising towels and soap. this was about when i realized how bare bones our abode was. i was sitting on a cot with white sheets shelacked in place. so was harmon. so was balddee, mule and ellen. todd hovered over marjorie who was sitting in a desk chair backwards, legs splayed. the chair seemed to be the only other thing in the room besides sterile beds, smelly people and white walls.

it did occur to me that we may have been placed in an asylum. i was confused as to why i was included in this mass raid. i dont think we'll be given answers any time soon.

the following events occured last night. i have only now opened my eyes to the day, scared to do more than paraphrase as the Simons are coming back and have promised macreme, trust falls, motivational speeches and jello.

contraband flasks were passed. contents not available for disclosure.

mule donned the french maid costume

marjorie demonstrated her rage on balddee's ego

todd [humped] - edited for discresion

harmon stood idly by... and yet participated

the temperature rose... and fell... and rose again

a lightbulb was broken

the bathroom door stayed locked for over an hour. head count in room: 4

mule played the part of the Professor and hooked up the curtain rod with a paperclip to his iPod and managed to magnify the sound using only a complementary plastic cup.

the music blog was born.

Balddee cant Wait to vote

The world is a shallow place, full of people who would rather see others suffer for there own gain no matter what .
The basic needs of our society are tossed to the side the old shell-game is displayed mercilessly, in television ads, all across the country every excuse is used to blame the other side for the fall of the country when they both profit from the chaos.
We live in a communist society we have been for years but it's real obvious now, false words and the bravado of Democracy, hypocrisy and denial rule the day.
Fear of other Races, Sexual Preferences and Religions have finally begun to surface, the false melting pot mentality that this country has always been has finally begun to show true to the rest of the world but we all don't see it.

To have a different point of view on any of the major topics of the day are strictly forbidden, your told what stance to have on anything I'm wrong, pick your News station or Radio Shock talk analyst and then correct me, the Nation that thrives on Assimilation is being challenged to have your own opinion is dangerous, to feel differently about a cause is incorrect, but we hate Dictatorships.

Go and vote

Growth

We're all gathered here today for the big announcement from upper management. I don't even know who they are, half the guys on the board of directors look like the uglier Simon of Simon & Simon fame. I'm mesmerized by the combined power of their mustaches. This may be less than coherent due to my infatuation with really shitty facial hair.

Anyway, like I said, we're all here in the conference room. It's got a nice view of Coitus Lake (one of the less popular of Minnesota's revered 10,000). Satchel and Bel are looking dreamily off onto the horizon and just smiling at each other. Get a room! Or wait, are they brother and sister? Who hired them again? Bel's kinda hot.

Mule, being the jackass that he is, has his Chuck Taylor's up on the table. Ellen is wearing a French maid's outfit but she's been refusing to clean for the last week and she's totally ruining the whole French maid vibe. Where's the inappropriate feather dusting? She's training in the new girl, Marjorie, who so far as I can tell is a militant lesbian. I don't think French maid outfits are supposed to come with camo stockings but it's not hot. It's the opposite of hot. Which fucking sucks. I thought we specified in the application that sexy lesbians were okay but not angry militant ones. I'm okay with people being indifferent to my penis but c'mon, don't hate the guy. Also, Marjorie has a horrible lisp.

Todd Dancer looks like an old horse. As my grandma used to say he's been rode hard and put away wet. I think he just shaved in the bathroom. His chest. Shaved his chest.

Baldee and Dr. Gonz are chattering about some social issue or something. It's cute how they care. I don't know. Why are we here? Whatever happened to Remo? I think the board members are gonna talk.

Yep, Simon #1 just confirmed what we all knew was coming. We have a growth problem. Later this week The BMC will be adding a few new websites to the mix. Dealing with Music and Movies and possibly books or something. Watch for more info. We're just setting it up now. Here's what Simon #2 just said.

Simon #2: With the exciting new growth this quarter we're looking for you to be more consistent as a workforce. We feel like there isn't a lot of trust between you. This is evidenced by the recent ripping on Harmon in polls and the comments. We can't grow if we're not a team.

Todd Dancer: I'll show you growing, c'mere Ellen!

Marjorie: That ith groth!

Todd Dancer: If you're lyin' you're dyin' babe.

Baldee: Fuck Harmon!

Mule: Yeah!

Simon #3: See, this is the problem we're having. So we've signed you all up for Team Building at the Richfield Sheraton. You'll all be staying together for the week and going through various excercises as a unit.

Todd Dancer: Fuck Harmon!

Simon #1: Duly noted Todd. Thanks for the input.

Harmon: I'd rather get ripped on by them then do a teambuilding thing in Richfield.

Simon #5: You don't have a choice. You each have suitcases ready for you by the doorway. I suggest you grab one on your way out. As part of the teambuilding, to create a real sense of unity, we've supplied you all with team uniforms for the week. We've arranged a bus to transport all of you to the Richfield Sheraton immediately. Don't let us down.

So we're all sitting in the "bus" which is actually a minivan. Marjorie is on Todd's lap and I can actually see the lawsuit pending right now. They should have gotten another bus or van or something. Ellen is whispering in Dr. Gonzo's ear and they're both laughing. We'll be at the Richfield Sheraton in minutes but it feels like days.

They've got us all rooming together in two side by side rooms with the super lame mini door for convenience. But it's just two rooms. 9 people in two rooms. No cots. It's like The Real World: Richfield or something. What happens when coworkers stop being civil and start teambuilding? You'll know soon enough...All I know is that Baldee must have gotten one of the women's suitcases because he's wearing a t-shirt that stops at his belly button and a skirt. Either that or he thinks this is prison and he's hoping I'm gonna go gay for the stay with him.

I just saw Marjorie wearing baggie men's zubaz and mock turtleneck. They have The BMC logo all over 'em. I guess we know why Baldee's got the girly stuff on now. Are we sure this team is worth building?

Conversations ~ three of nine

i saw an old photo of myself.

how old were you?

i don't know. i'm good with memories and monuments, not age.

explain.

i was old enough to know i wasn't unbreakable. but i hadn't been broken yet.

there's a certain kind of grace required of getting older.

grace is just a pretty way of handling failure.

so your plan is to dismiss it?

no.

you have no plan.

yes.

it wasn't a question.

i know.

the boy in the picture, what did he want in life?

that's the only part about my past that i understand. i didn't know what i wanted back then either.

so you never grew up?

i've grown.

we learn a lot as time passes. sometimes we don't realize it.

the more time you've had the less it means.

that applies to more than just time.

what about a life?

that's for you to decide.

i'm not good with decisions.

decisions are made whether you make them or not.

yes. no.

do you want to be the little boy in the photo again?

no. i just want him to get what he deserved.

what's that?

everything.

Random thoughts

I'm just sitting back listening to some Down tempo Jazz from Bugge Wesseltoft -Change .

Just kicking back and these questions start popping into my head, so I decided to jot them down and share them with you the people, please remember these are in no order and there really isn't a purpose or deep subject matter to any of this there just some Random thoughts .

If you Could be a Thundercat who would you be and Why ?

If people are rude to you at Work or in general is it because your to Sexy?

Why cant you run pedestrians over when there walking against the light or really slow on purpose ?

Which is worse someone hitting you in the Nuts OR, your nuts are itching and you cant scratch them ?

Why do Americans call Futbol, Soccer when the rest of the world call's it Futbol ?

If Animals could talk what language would it be ?

Is there an Italian Kiss, or do the French corner the Market ?

Is the Incredible Hulk the Strongest Superhero ?

Can you say something in a sexually harassing tone to someone on there last day at work and not get in trouble ?

What are Sweaters Puppets ?

Who came up with the name Cocks for Male Chickens ?

When you fart really loud and long do you too feel your stomach relax ?

Why don't they bring back Dance Fever ?

Balddee's Halloween

Going anywhere over the weekend you see the scenario that Halloween has become everyone running around as Sluts, and Whores not that I am prude by any means I'm all for it but what happened to the horror ?

What happened to the Ghost's, Ghouls and Goblins that should over take this silly celebration .

I guess it wouldn't bother me if guys weren't doing it as well dressing as a Stripper or hunky doctor is sad to me maybe I'm being sexist or maybe I'm being prudish your thought's kids .

Should Halloween try to return to it's scary roots I mean the Naughty nurse has it's place don't get me wrong but when you go out and every female looks like a rejected member from Vanity 6 isn't there something wrong ?

The Places to Be

Good morning Coitusers and a joyous impending Halloween to all. Halloween is interesting as it provides us yet another pagan holiday to get drunk but it has also been described as the only holiday where we only purchase items for ourselves. Take that Dad!

QUESTION OF THE WEEK

Last weeks question took stock of the legal problems of actor Wesley “Blade” Snipes. In our poll we questioned our readers what should be done with the Blade series now that Wesley “Blade” Snipes is no longer an American. Overwhelmingly the public has spoken and by a resounding 20% voted that they don’t actually care as the Blade trilogy has sucked balls.

This week's question focuses on our countries physical policy with Mexico and how this would inpact our personal national security. President Bush recently signed a bill into law that would allocate 1.2 billion dollars towards the construction of a 700 mile fence with our neighbors to the South. While we here at Bad Mother Coitus recognize the fact that our schools are growing far too large and that there are definite homeless, jobless and hunger issues that also need to be solved but we first wanted to poll our readers.

Who Would You Like to Build A Wall Against
	My Boss
	My Spouse
	My Family
	My Children
	The Mexicans
	The Canadians
	Harmon
	Starbucks
Free polls from Pollhost.com

This site cracks my shit up. The good General JC Christian, Patriot uses this space to help guide the morality play that is America. Follow him and also make sure to check out the Operation Yellow Elephant. Yellow Elephant keeps a staunch hand on an even keel while reporting on our US Military recruiters. Not only does it show what is making our country great, it also frees us from evildoers.

A hard hitting expose by the Twin Cities own Channel Four news. Toddler Trapped in Crane Machine.

Only in the South could this be used as an explanation to justify murder. Or, rather, only in the South could this be something that could actually happen.

I really don’t know how this came about but it was an extreme treat to find. It does make you long for the days of only a few years ago.

Man Day Eve...Eve

This Saturday all good men will rise in unison, look at their spouses/loved ones/shebeasts, look them in the eye and say "I must go." The women (or for the single men, the computer and assorted lotion bottles) will look on longingly as they head out to the field of battle. Out of spite the women might just call repeatedly or accidentally wash the man's favorite shirt with something very, very red. (The lotion and computer are sort of limited in what they can do but it's likely the lotion will hose down the keyboard with a mixture of aloe vera, random chemicals and other assorted items that work just fucking spiffy on skin but not so much on delicate electronic goods.)

There is work to be done. Manly work. The repeated killings of teenagers and stoned guys in Texas and possibly bilingual fellas with crazy Mexican handles like "chupacabra14". It will be glorious this killing. Repeated killing. Mixed in with occasional deaths and shouts of "what the fuck just happened?" and "beer me".

There will be pizza consumed and severe reprimands if any grease ends up on the controller which then leads to the offender failing to offer cover fire when needed. Yes there will be shame, but there will also be glory. And maybe, just maybe, the single guy will casually mention how to shoot around fucking rocks rather than using your face. The married men will be pleased.

In between killing sessions the assorted Men of MANDAY will feel awkward about killing people who lack hair in the bathing suit area and have voices vaguely reminiscent of Hilary Duff or possibly her sister.... Mmmm Duffs. But we shall kill them nonetheless. Unless they're one of those shut in kids that just gayms all the damn time and has a USB port for a belly button. We'll boot those kids. They're crazy good.

It is MANDAY EVE...EVE. You can almost feel the excitement can't you? If you listen closely on MANDAY, behind all the shouting and gunfire you can just barely make out the sound of Angels singing. Because God likes this sort of shit. Let's make it happen fellas. You never know when the next MANDAY will come along.

Explanation of American Football by Position

Due to lack of caring for the sport of American Football and having removed myself from the epicenter of the head moron fan capital (Minneapolis) I believed myself removed of this five month headache. But it is everywhere here in the Midwest, especially here in Wisconsin and the fans are equally as big of morons as those in Minneapolis (seriously, I think I met a girl named Brett Farve the other day).

Instead of going down the tried and true method of disproving the entire league this year I’ve elected to prove what a worthless sport it is by position.

Tight Ends: Too stupid to play the Defensive Line, now they find themselves running simple passing routes and throwing their body’s at Linebackers during running plays.

Offensive Line: Too fat and stupid to play the defensive line. Although this position should be congratulated as it is the only position, in all of sport, not have a statistical way of keeping track of it.

Defensive Line: Too fat and stupid to play linebacker.

Linebackers: Ah, Sam, Mike and Will. A linebacker may be the only respectable position on the field.

Quarterback: Sure they may have to run the offense. Sure they might have to be able to read zone or man or cover two before the snap. But all quarterbacks are douche bags. I guarantee you that all quarterbacks definitely have had some history of child abuse in their past or are, themselves, child abusers.

Running Back: Recently proven a worthless position on the field with the advent of the Denver style of running game. No longer is a skilled person needed to achieve 1000 yards a year. A group of large, in charge and Hungry Man eating Offensive lineman capable of falling forward will suffice!

Strong Safety: Too stupid to play Free Safety; too small to play Linebacker

Free Safety: Too slow to play Cornerback; too small to play Linebacker

Cornerback: Too short to play Wide Receiver

Wide Receiver: Honestly the only position producing more douche bags than the Quarterback and single handedly why this article must be written. The NFL has finally given in and turned into the National Football League of Terrell Owens (or the NFLTO). Now not only is this a stupid sport it has finally reached its’ ultimate devolution of turning into NASCAR II. No longer do the fans no longer care about scores but they have replaced these scores with contimplating what sort of sandwich Terrell ate for lunch.

Ladies and Gentelman... I give you American Football



Next Week: Bad Mother Coitus: Stats and The Year in Review

chicago dictionary

ok folks, i said no more blogs about traffic, and here you go. what do we gots instead? your first comprehensive chicago-speak dictionary. words every chicagoan takes for granted but tourists "scratch their heads" about.*

chicagoland – chicago and it’s surrounding suburbs. the only important part of illinois.

TJ's – Trader Joe’s. quite possibly the best, friendliest, cheapest grocery store out there. all the cool kids shop there.

the bean – the giant bean-shaped sculpture in millennium park. actually titled Cloud Gate. The biggest funhouse mirror you have ever seen. also, rediculously horrendous tourist trap in the middle of summer.

parking ticket – a small piece of paper slipped into an orange envelope and stuck to either your windshield or your driver’s side door (adhesive is very sticky and will mostly likely leave residue for 2 weeks after original removal). usually listed at $50 for breaking some sort of vague parking law. examples of violations include: parking in a regular zone during a cubs game, parking in front of a faded yellow line on the curb, and parking on the street during an alleged “street cleaning” day (whether or not they actually clean the streets is up for debate). legend has it that if you’ve got out of state plates, the ticket will not be entered into the system.

el – the elevated train. runs around the loop and branches out to the ends of chicago. see: chase scenes from blues brothers & the fugitive.

work commute – the length of time it takes you to get from home to work or work to home. varies by person. commute can be from suburbs to city or vice versa, from south side to north side (or vice versa), from north/south/west side to the loop, but NEVER the reverse. if your commute is under 20 minutes, you are fucking lucky. if it’s over 2 hours, that’s shitty. if it’s anywhere from 35 min – 85 min, you’re normal!

suppertime – the time at which you eat supper. suburbanites eat after designated parent arrives home, cooks supper and calls the family to eat (aprox 6:30pm). city dwellers… this varies… but the hardest time to get a table at a restaurant is after 8pm. if you eat before 7:30, you're out for the early bird special.

closing time – the time at which bars close. there is no closing time in chicago. some bars will wuss out at 2 or 3am, some eek out life till 4am, but really, you don’t have to go home. just don’t pass out there or you’ll end up in jail.

da bears – if you don’t remember the ’86 bears, that’s ok, see below to jog your memory. i only remember the football helmet shaped cookies our teacher brought to class to celebrate the superbowl win. apparently, all other NFL teams should look out: the ’86 bears have been reincarnated. oh yeah.



*definitions subject to irony and situation: not set in stone.

The Places to Be

Gadzook and Gadzoondo’s my little Coitusers, Uncle Mule seems to have developed quite the headache after last night’s new holiday. But fear not, I will battle through and make the best of this little posting.

QUESTION OF THE WEEK

Last week’s question was a little bit obtuse as we quizzed everybody as to how comfortable with electronic money they are; it irked some of our readers so much that they went as far as to put a comment in stating such. The fear and loathing that began the question was how is all of the electronic money backed up. It certainly seems like play money when you think about it, especially since most of us don’t handle that much cash on a day to day basis. My fear was that it would represent something similar to the market crash of the great depression where banks were investing heavily into the stock market so that there was no real money that left over.

http://static.flickr.com/105/297047897_be791ef83d_m.jpg

I talked with an economic friend of ours who assured me that electronic money is backed still by real money. That electronic money is actually better backed than paper money because it is easier to keep track of. Good stuff though peeps!

Wesley Snipes was recently indicted on charges of tax fraud to the tune of claiming tax refunds of $12 million and not filing from 1999 through 2004. The problem for the US government is Snipes is currently filming in the country of Namibia, Africa a country that does not have an extradition process.

Now that Snipes is no longer an American what does this do to the Blade Series
	I never considered Snipes to be the real Blade
	Snipes was out anyway after they brought in the two abercrombie models
	The next Blade should be shot in Africa
	Who cares, the Blade movies sucked balls
Free polls from Pollhost.com

First Steve Irwin and now an American, this latest Sting Ray attack shows why the ocean is rising against us and action must be taken. As previously discussed on the pages of this website, this is obviously another direct attack from Namor the emperor of the sea and his do right lieutenant Aquaman. Each of you should write to your local congressman today and make this a prime topic of conversation in the upcoming elections. AND START EATING MORE FISH STICKS!!!



Before these are taken down I strongly believe that we should send Baldee to investigate. Before Baldee’s thoughts turned to women bathing in blood, which on a scale of 1-10 for creepiness is a 100, his first wishes were to pee on people- on the same 1-10 scale this only measured out at a 10. The Austrians have done it though but now it is about to be taken away from us.

Ladies and Gentlemen: The Leader of the Free World.

Apologies to Dave

"We're coming up on Alexandria" he said. Eyeing the map with a little flashlight in the dark. I know that. I've made this trip 100 times. Every other venture I've known what was on the other end. New friends, new classes, a degree on the one end. Pumpkin pie, snow football with my high school friends, gifts by candle light with my family on the other.

I don't know why he's looking at the map to begin with. From Minneapolis to Moorhead is all one road anyway. Probably just killing time. Trying to not be so damn awkward every second we're together. Can't say I blame him.

I still don't know why I asked him to come. He's just a friend of a friend. Another guy stuck at home in January with nothing to do except stare out the window at the snow. And he's not all bad. I just don't know him. He's good to drink with though. We'll have to grab a beer or maybe some cider once we get to town. After we see her anyway. Maybe before. Yeah, definitely before we see her.

We're almost there now. He's got Ani Difranco on the radio. She's not bad. I could definitely use this on her. She'd love this stuff. Pick out a line, a lyric to remember. It's got to be good. Memorable. Ooh, this song's good, not really a love song or anything but it's really fucking good. Remember the line...

you know i don't look forward to seeing you again
you'll look like a photograph of yourself,
taken from far, far away
and i won't know what to do,
and i won't know what to say...

"That line's really good. What's this song?" He says "Untouchable Face." Cool. I don't think he uses this stuff on girls. I think he likes it for real. He's not really a ladies man. Pretty much dead weight as a wingman. In fact worse than deadweight since he doesn't care. Sabotage the whole damn night just for a laugh. Weird guy, good, but I just don't get him. Why did I ask him to come along again?

We're almost to Moorhead. To her. I don't know what to say. "What do you think I should tell her? I don't want to be too obvious." He says "You just drove 4 hours in the snow for the express reason of seeing her. I think obvious has already been established." Dammit. "But there's nothing wrong with letting her know you're there to see her. I mean, you did drive 4 hours in the snow for her, that's kinda flattering isn't it?" Right, that's why I brought him.

There's her house. Not yet. Still need a cider. And we've got another friend that both of us will enjoy seeing first. Calm the nerves. Get the stupid road chitchat out of the way with friends instead of...well, whatever she might be to me.

The house is on a quiet street. I park the car and we move noiselessly up the walk. He stops. Looks like he's gonna say something but just sorta smiles. It's nice how quiet it can be up here. I should be at her place. It's perfect right now. How could she not fall in love with me when it's so quiet and the snow is falling and the air is crisp like this? I should be there. "Can we make this quick?"

He says nothing and just knocks on the door. A girl answers. One of the roomies. The arty one. She lets us in and we talk for a bit. Our friend isn't here. He makes her laugh. Why can't he do that when he's supposed to be a wingman? He only makes himself laugh. The arty girl's in a hurry if her walk is any indication. We'll go, grab something to eat, get a beer.

We head out the door. It's still silent outside. Still perfect. "She's the one." he says. "What?" "Her, she's the one for me."

What the fuck just happened?

"Let's get something to eat."

"What about the girl?"

"She knows I just drove 4 hours in the snow just to meet her. She'll still be here when we come back."

And she was.

Pharrell to Pharrell: I Want To Work With You!

In a recent release from pharrellwilliams.com, mega producer/artist Pharrell announced that he will be the featured artist on his next album. After working with an assortment of artists from Dave Matthews Band to Jay-Z, from Britney Spears to Ol’ Dirty Bastard, Pharrell states in the release that “Finally it is good to be working with me.”

Bad Mother Coitus has obtained information that Pharrell’s attitude may have turned sour when as many as three artists, over the past year, have released albums that did not feature Pharrell.

Though not directly alluded to in Pharrell’s release, Bad Mother Coitus has also discovered that Pharrell was disappointed in the fact that long time friend and collaborator Justin Timberlake had elected to re-use rapper Timbaland. Our anonymous source close to Pharrell sites, “When Pharrell heard that Timber was gonna use Timbaland again he was all like… ‘Sheeeit’ but the whole posse of skateboarders in the house all thought it was fucking sweet. Timber and Timber, you know… like fucking trees and shit.”

This also heralds the end of the feud between Pharrell and Sean Combs (who begat Sean “Puffy” Combs who begat Puff Daddy who begat P. Diddy who begat Diddy) to see which artist could appear in the most music videos. Questions solicited to the Diddy camp have been left un-returned. BMC insiders report Diddy has poured out a small quantity of Crystal for the death of the feud.

This came as a large shock to the music community who as late as August 2003 had 43% of music played on the radio being produced by Pharrell and his group the Neptunes. Jessica Simpson, formally of Jessica and Nick now of boobies.com, was reached for comment and offered up this tearful remark “Musically, I’ve always wanted to be like Pharrell. I can’t play any instruments or produce, but to sit next to the producer or the instruments and sing. Yeah, that’s what I want to do.”

Next Week: The Annual Football Article

unfolding the intricate oragami of chicago driving

yeah, i know last week's entry was about traffic, but for some insane reason (perhaps due to increased traffic incidents) it still remains on my brain. when i have extra time to ponder annoying things, i usually succumb, stewing in my own revelations.

pontification #1 - some people feel that it's to the benefit of traffic flow to keep a distance of 3 car lengths between them and the car in front of them. theoretically, this is a good idea. no stopping should be needed. just a slow coasting. it would prevent rubber-banding and break wear and tear. theoretically, if all cars on the road did this, we would have no stand-still traffic.

but communism looks good on paper too.

what really happens is, when that hole is spotted, at least 5 cars will attempt to squish into the 3 car length spot. this space gives the illusion that the lane is moving fast enough to create space. so you change lanes. you want to go faster too, dammit. fill that gap! why is there a fucking gap?! who does that? MOVE bitch!!

why? well, because it's every car for itself, that's why. i can safely say that chicago drivers are selfish byotches. i have heard that we honk more than other cities (excluding new jersey, of course), and that driving on lake shore drive causes most tourists minor heart attacks.

pontification #2 - traffic cops. i have seen the hirarchy. downtown and on major intersections, you see the uniformed cops in hats, with cuffs and a ticket board, sporting a bright orange POLICE safety vest. they have ear-piercing whistles and white gloves. you dont mess with them. then there are the kiddos you see lining every street corner after a sporting event.

i'll use cubs games for my example here. before and after cubs games, there are joes in blue polos and unmarked orange vests, holding dayglo orange singals. And, they stand in the middle of every single intersection for a 2 mile radius. Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum (they work in pairs) attempt to usher traffic through the probable gridlock that would happen with an influx of cars at said sporting event. these douche bags are part time city workers. they have no authority to issue tickets. they have no whistles or white gloves. hell, half the time they dont even move aside for cars turning left. my biggest pet peeve is their disregard for traffic lights. if you neglect to take these into account, you invariably cause a back up down the road. why? traffic lights are synched. result: GRIDLOCK. you heard it here folks. these schmoes are traffic causers.

i did find a good interview about the traffic cop hirarchy and why traffic cops exist in the first place. But this is still no consolation when it takes me an extra 15 minutes to get the last 4 blocks home.

pontification #3 - driving in chicago is hazardous to your health unless you aquire the proper vaccinations. only experience will truely vaccinate you, but for visitors and fresh meat, here are a few hints: 1. make sure you know your route 2. yes, we honk at you when you dont know where you're going. try to ignore this. it's not personal. well, yes it is, but it's only because you annoy me. 3. if you're on lake shore drive and you start having heart palpatations, please, please, dont pull over or go 30 mph. simply get into the right lane and go the posted speed limit and pull off AT AN EXIT. 4. cabbies go anywhere they like. just think of them as 600 lb gorillas with no morals.

ok folks, that's it this week. i'll try to focus my attention elsewheres for next week's pontificating.

Dancing with the Down low

A friend of mine is a Professional Dancer well formerly she and her husband teach Ballroom locally in the cities I bring this up because I was at there place a couple of days ago and they were watching Dancing With the Stars yeah I watched it big deal, the topic of conversation came about the current favorite Mario Lopez aka Slater from Saved By The Bell.
He and his partner are rumored to be an item good for him if it's true but as my friends pointed out to me he was married to the Nacho's Girl Remember her.

Since I didn’t care or know anything about this man I asked to be filled in, and he was married to this extremely Hot Women for a short space of time, this lead me to do some pondering.

Why or how could a Man divorce or lose an extremely hot women a poster girl if you will.

My answer, is because secretly they are Gay, and they are in denial, so they unconsciously sabotage their relationship, that may seem extreme to some of you but think about it for second lets look at an example.

Ex.
Eric Benet /Halle Berry

This dork lost her because he claims he’s a sex addict....

So let me get this straight your Wife is one of the most desired Women in the world and you are going to claim that doing the Retail girl from BeBe is sufficient?
I understand his image is that of a sultry soul singer type (Yawn) so he cannot come out and say that he likes guys but he does.

Let me Clarify Men, straight men for the most part are always thinking about the dream girl, the women that when you walk into a room everyone is envious yes it's shallow yes it's lame but it's true .A proven example of the shallowness of men look no further then Christie Brinks hubby yeah the girl was a teenager which I do not condone but was she prettier then Christie depends on who you ask.

But that’s another story.

The Places To Be

A glorious Friday the 13th to one and all. On this Holiday, of sorts, let us not lose perspective on hwat is most important: Cat Sacrifices. Please let us know how you slayed your cat and we’ll make sure to post your email next week! If anybody needs a cat to sacrifice please contact me as well. I have two (not Pedro of course). One is rather large and the other is quite cagey. But… you know, first come first serve.

Happy Thanksgiving Weekend salutations are in order to our Canadian Coitus Cousins to the North. While the actual day does not arrive until next Monday, it is still good to know that fellowship will be occurring somewhere in the world. Especially if it is a day spent breaking bread with the Thanksgiving cat coming out of the oven (where the cat is perfectly cooked, not too tender not too dry with a nice stuffing).

QUESTION OF THE WEEK

Last weeks question of the week ended with our most lopsided victory as you pathetic, non-God loving, bleeding hearts voted in a resounding fashion. You, Coitusers, stated that Lynchburg is a fitting home to Jerry Falwell because it is also the home of J. Crew. Emails from the BMC to see if J. Crew ever considered including religious passages on their articles of clothing (a la the In and Out Burger) have not been answered.

From the deposit of paychecks to the use of check cards while buying food at a grocery store electronic money seems to surround us. With the exception of the major hiccup of the Millennium Bug there has been little opposition to electronic money and in fact the currency continues to build and become a more powerful tool for the future. With the creation of ATM’s and electronic deposit the physical bank has become more and more invisible to the common man.

How comfortable with electronic money are you?
	Very and I understand the system well.
	Very and don't care about the system as long as there is money in my account
	I'm neither uncomofrtable nor comfortable with it.
	Not at all. Having electronic money is a recipe for disaster.
	Don't know and don't care.
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Here is another brilliant and informative site brought to you by the smartest people in the world. As frequent followers of Bad Mother Coitus know this website is a blue state website and very pro Ninja. We despise the red stated Pirates that seek to usurp us. Ask A Ninja is both informative as well as helpful. This segment, which dispenses advice on how to kill a ninja, is offered to our pirate brethren both as an olive branch and a foreboding warning.

This may seem like an innocent proposition but I assure you as an American you should oppose this with every bit of God loving patriotism within you. First they’ll start being in our homes, then people will start saying we cannot treat them as lesser beings and then, finally, some liberal sympathizers will implore all of us not to eat them for Thanksgiving. Lest we forget, please view this hard hitting picture.

It would seem that Mr. T has not only begun his own talk show but is also helping our President. Instead of “pitying fools” our President is declaring things “intolerable”. The best bit is when President is talking to some eighth graders about how their test scores are “intolerable”. Pot is to ______ what us pitying a fool is to our President.

To bring the article full circle the artist of this week is a Canadian girl who goes by the name of Esthero. Her voice lacks the sweet soul of the finer jazz singers and ends up sounding more in the realm of a pop singer with a sense of history. Still her music does grip to a body like refreshing breeze after leaving a sweaty dance floor. It grooves and chills you out like a beer at the bar; not taking you out of the party but giving you that sultry acidic jazz that taps a tow while making you feeling cooler than you are.

At Mule's Funeral

Three days and 50 years ago Don Larson through the sixth Perfect Game in the history of baseball and the only perfect game ever thrown in the World Series. In the two hour and eight minute epic it would be nice to believe that everybody observed the common courtesy and not mentioned that a perfect game was occurring, but there are a lot of assholes out there, especially in New York.

Life does not resemble a Perfect Game. Most people spend their time talking about what is going on, living life in the past and, on occasion, take abbreviated looks towards the future. The vanishing point on the horizon is not a concept discussable; according to custom It is a subject that should not be broached as if not speaking Its’ name will somehow either prevent It or not jinx It into happening.

A person that discusses their own death is often considered to be suicidal or an attention seeker, the purpose of this article is not for either of them. It is more in the vein of: ensuring that a Romantic Comedy or item of similar ilk is not played in a room should I fall into coma. It is to tell you that I love you. That my ashes should be placed into a bottle of 18 year old Macallan whisky with only a mouthful of scotch left in it (the rest is to be enjoyed by friends and loved ones at an earlier date). It is to tell you that my ashes should be spread on the pitching mound at the new Twin’s Stadium (should that not be possible hopefully technology would evolve to the point where I could be made into a CD, though as further proof I am not ready to shuffle off the mortal coil it would take at least 400 years to construct the play list for this album)

The service should be simple, the location is not important as long as it does not occur in Minneapolis or the suburbs.

At the service the following texts should be enjoyed in the following order (Seriously, I’m not trying to be a Corpsezilla here but… c’mon it is my big day):

Opening Song (join in everybody!): Satisfied Mind by Rhodes & Hayes

Opening Text: By Mule (to be read by a well trained eight year old)
Okay, this hasn’t been written yet, but the general theme will be designed to make everybody cry and feel generally bad that I’m not there to celebrate. Heaving bosoms and general lamentations on how much people loved me are expected.

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
(Chapter 9: “Gatsby’s house was still empty when I left”… “So we beat on, boats against the curtain, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”

John 15:9-17

A two-hour interlude for everybody that wishes to say nice things about me will be opened and moderated upon. In all expectations this will go significantly longer. Also at this point the open bar (This is to be a full bar. None of this wine and beer only bullshit!) should begin handing out drinks and little sandwiches or quartered sandwiches. In the unlikely event that people do not have two hours worth of praises to say about me, everybody is expected to sit reverently and stare at my rotting corpse until they do think of something good to say (the booze will help with this).

Mr. Tambourine Man by Bob Dylan
(only this verse)

Then take me disappearin' through the smoke rings of my mind,
Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves,
The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach,
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow.
Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free,
Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands,
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves,
Let me forget about today until tomorrow.

Closing text
The Lake of Innisfree by W. B. Yeats

Close: Go, Tell it On the Mountain by John W. Work, Jr.

Why? Why not? It’s my fucking funeral. Boom, done. Having gone through a few dry runs, the estimated time for the entire thing is only 7-10 hours.

I’m aware that there is a noticeable lack of songs and that this will cause a bit of a stir. I think that Mule’s of all ages will agree that people cannot sing as well as they think.

Okay so that’s pretty much that, kind of a grisly business, huh? But again, planning ahead is all part of the game. Don’t let Dad or Jordan get too involved in the texts. I mean they can read something, I’m sure they’ll do that well. Do not, this cannot be stressed enough, let them “enhance” the reading by adding to them or reading a different text from the same book. It’s my special day dammit.

Next Week: Pharrell Williams

mythbusters: more people ride than drive??

i'm not a typical Chicagoan at this very moment in time. ok, let me clarify. when i think of a real Chicagoan, i think of, say, my roomie. she gets up at the crack of dawn, stumbles bleary-eyed into the sunless morning and hikes 4 blocks to the el. she switches lines at the belmont stop, gets squished into the red line car with the 200 other early morning commuters, blesses her ipod and yawns toward the horizon. after fighting up the stairs and pulling her coat close against the wind, she arrives at work. 7:30am. come quittin' time, she does the same in reverse.

it is said that a typical chicagoan will bump elbows with humanity at least 500 times a day. after all, this is a city of 2.8 million.

i bump elbows with the girl from accounting while she gets off the elevator at the 3rd floor. that's about it. why? because i'm a reverse commuter. i get into my car and plunge into the arteries of the windy city, avoiding blockage where possible, hating my long commute into the demure southern suburbs. however, when i return home, and i hear about how smelly the el was from said roomie, i am grateful for my car.

i digress... more on the glory of car in another entry. my point is that the myth is: a good, typical chicagoan is my roomate. i am here to debunk that myth today. from observations made by yours truely.

1. on any given day, the travel time on the Kennedy, getting into Chicago is at least 45 minutes. This is a 16 mile stretch of FREEWAY that totes EXPRESS LANES.

2. at least 27 million daily trips happen in the greater chicagoland area. in my experience, at least 1 million people are moron drivers. then you have the 2 million grannies and little old men in hats driving huge sedans. then you have the 12 million other drivers (aka ME) just trying to arrive at a destination in one piece. in my best estimate, that leaves less than half of chicago commuters as public transportationists.

3. you always see construction on illinois highways. you rarely see construction on public transportation (only the brown line right now, and yes, albeit ishy, still gets people to work). i'm going to get flack for this observation. but seriously folks, look at how much highway construction there is, and for how long it lasts, and how much havok it reeks on drivers in illinois. why would we do this? so that we can fit more people on the roads.

based on these weak observations, many hours in the car spent fretting about lost time and many minutes spent on rare public transit trips, i believe that the majority of chicagoans drive to work. the myth will always be there, guys. but i am living proof that this myth is debunked.

why am i debunking this myth? because i need to live with myself every day. or perhaps the exhaust fumes finally got to me...

Why men Cheat -Has been cancelled

Due to an email I received from a source that I cannot disclose at this juncture.

" The Why Men Cheat Blog has been cancelled due to pending Legal action that will be transpired against my person if it's posted .

Thanks to the hundreds of people who took part in my survey .

Conversations ~ two of nine

i know i am loved.

of course.

it hurts.

why?

i have nothing greater to earn. i've achieved everything without doing anything.

love is not achievement.

agreed.

you've achieved nothing.

i understand.

no, you don't.

i care what people think.

i know.

i hate that about myself.

i know.

i'm helpless to stop it.

i know you think that is true.

why?

helplessness absolves you of guilt.

i should be more than what i am.

you are.

and yet nothing changes.

you're searching for the honest conversation. the connection with others.

yes.

maybe you should be searching for something else.

like what? my grandmother's watch? my favorite t-shirt?

the end of conversation.

go on.

where you don't have to talk. where it's all in the eyes. where your every movement means something to someone and you can understand and feel and honor and love and despair and destroy and open yourself to a life without words.

that could take years.

years you have.

i don't understand.

you will.

when?

the moment you look yourself in the eye.

How You Feelin?

So I was watching South Park last night and it got me to thinking, which it usually does, which is why I watch it. The kids were playing a video game and the thematic joke of the show was that people take their fake lives within the game more seriously than their real life. Which is obviously sad and yet completely understandable.

I work at an office doing a job that any reasonably intelligent person can do. If you measure how important something is by how many people can capably do it then it ranks fairly low on the list. But I'm pretty dang awesome at video game baseball. I can make trades and make financial decisions and everything and I'm successful. So why would I bother investing time into the real life when I'm just average at it? We all want to be special and I'm pretty fucking special when it comes to certain video games.

This also applies to other hobbies. I'm a solid golfer. I've shot par, which is something few golfers have any chance of doing. The average golfer shoots something like 90. I typically settle in 10-12 strokes less than that. If everyone was measured on their golfing ability I'd be in the top 15 percent, or higher if the non-golfers of the world weren't given some time to learn the game before being tested. And yet I only golf once a week at the most.

So why not pursue the things I do really well? Other than the fact that they don't pay me? Good question. I think I need to find out. I'm not saying I'm quitting my job to play video games, I'm gonna need electricity for that so I have to keep money coming in, I guess that I'm just bummed out that much like Loverboy predicted, I'm still Working for the Weekend.

the fruits of autumn

so yesterday i donned a clothespin on my nose, put on sunglasses and ventured into the BMC headquarters to post my latest hum drum. but when i entered the shag carpeted room, i stopped, stared, stepped back out to check the number on the door, blinked, took off the sunglasses, stepped back in and let my jaw fall to the floor.

ellen is back.

i know most people dont read comments as religiously as Balddee, so please refer back to Harmon's shame-faced return for my comment about last week's awkward encounter.

it was embarassing (not for Todd). it was revolting (again, not for Todd). and it put me off cleaning for a good long time, especially since the last time the swiffer saw that much action, it was in Ellen's hands, who was wiping harmon's fluids from the tabletop a few months back.

ok, i'm exiting memory lane now. and showering. thoroughly.

anyways, so i'm in the headquarters, not expecting anyone to be there (and who could stay in there for more than a few minutes at a time - it stunk of sex and rotting bananas and the naked lightbulbs dangling from the ceiling were enough to blind a bat), i'm ready to fire up the computer, enter article, press "submit" and run outta there at top speed when what to my wondering eyes should appear, but Ellen the Intern-cum-Senior Vice President of Advertising.

smiling a Tom Cruise crazy-ass, pearly white smile, Ellen gestures to the table in front of her: carmel apples (6), cranberry torte (1), blueberry pie (1), double fudge brownies (2 dozen) and chocolate chip cookies (3 dozen). all of the goodies piled high on the checkered cloth, accented with seasonal gourds and a crock pot of spiced cider. i looked at Ellen and noticed that her left eyelid was twitching in an unnatural way. i followed her dazed, glossy eyes behind me. i turned around to behold a fresh coat of paint on the walls (a nice latte brown), all of the previously random literature sitting well-organized in seperate bookshelves and stacked on coffee tables - wait, coffee tables? yes, i saw brand new ikea tables, chairs, pictures, shelves and even a vase of fake flowers, standing solemnly in the windowsill.

"did you do this?" i ask

no reply. just a creepy jerking motion in her right shoulder.

please understand that when i agreed to bestow my presence at the BMC, i immediately tried to form an alliance with Ellen, the only other girl. but after a few fruitless attempts, we came to an understanding of respect (her to me) and distance (me to her). Now i can see that this distance was absolutely necessary. i can see that if i dont back slowly out of the room thisverysecond, that she will accost me, and i will know about Todd, the closet and the swiffer. in detail. i will also have to deal with the reprocussions and (probably) be her anchor and confidant about said events for the year to come.

so i casually pick up a cookie, shuffle my feet a bit, turn tail and RUN. and so, yet again, i am submitting via internet cafe, another article that was not what i had intended. but who else will report this shit to you guys? right?

Quality vs. Quantity or Why Men Cheat coming soon

I'm wasting my brain power on one of those talk shows like Extra or whatever and the topic on the table was "What Men Find Sexy or something like that,
what they did is go around and ask various men what they think is sexier Breast or Butt , Smile or Touch , Walk or Laugh ect .

The end result I didn't agree with, what it was is unimportant but if you want to know the winner was, well at least on that Poll was Breasts and Laugh which I disagree with 200 % .

This lead me to a different thought, If you have not gathered by now I am a Love Wizard I am the Sultan of Amore I bring people together it's what I do .

And if you have just stumbled onto our little blog site welcome and do yourself a Favor and inspect some of my past insightful relationship pieces Life altering ?

Yes they are ..

What I was thinking about is testing the mental state of Men with a little ditty we will be calling Quality vs. Quantity

As I have said countless times over, Men are Mentally inferior to Women I don't give a rat's ass if you disagree that's the way it is .

So next week, this topic will be put to the test " What is it oh Wise Balddee " thanks for asking in a nut shell one question women ask is" Why do men look at other Women or Why do Men Cheat ."

There are a lot of Ideas going thru my head on this one and it will take some time to cover it correctly .

In the meantime I will be pounding the Pavement this week doing research and trying to setup educated scenarios to better discuss this topic until then kids ..

Feel free to express different ideas that you would like me to cover .