Happy Birthday, Jesus!

I would have posted before but I've had a few problems with the site recently, which I only just fixed this morning. But I did want to commemorate Jesus Day (a/k/a Christmas) with the following stories.

The first one is about a Christian pastor who was sponsoring a "Mr. Heterosexual" contest, where contestants will tear Oprah magazines, play "Name that Potato Chip" blindfolded, discuss the best use of duct tape and display a talent. I'm sure the talent will be something special like farting "Shall We Gather at the River" or belching the Ten Commandments.

The event will also feature an appearance by a man who once lived the "homosexual lifestyle," but has been freed through Jesus Christ. Oh goody. Because nothing really expresses the love and compassion of Jesus more than displaying a gay man as some sort of circus freak show alongside some awful Mr. Heterosexual contest. Fantastic.

The second Christ-tastic story comes via a new Christian video game that allows players to smite their opponents, as long as they have enough faith. The action/adventure game is built on the premise that one can do all things through Christ who gives one strength. Including, apparently, the ability to shoot lightening in order to kill..., err, smite your foes.

And if a player's faith gets too low, then they can pick up one of the many scrolls conveniently scattered throughout the game in order to renew their faith and continue their journey. Which is an odd contradiction since I always thought of faith as a steadfast belief in something you couldn't necessarily prove or see. Kind of like having the faith in finding weapons of mass destruction in Iraq.

You can almost hear the baby Jesus crying.

Are We Done Yet?

Given my intermittent posting schedule, I thought it would be best to wish everyone a Merry Christmas now while I sort of have my shit together (not to mention a nice lull in work). So, I hope everyone has a great and relaxing holiday.

Yes, 2005 has been -- despite what W. said -- a less than fantastic year, but it could be worse. You could have been the unfortunate Egyptian man that discovered on his wedding day that his fiancée of 3 years was a man who had been concealing his identity behind a veil. The fiancee was quoted as saying that he had intended to tell his husband the truth after they were married and had hoped to convince him to consummate the marriage.

Now I have no idea how you sell this one to the surprised groom. I mean, how do you even begin to position this? "I've got good news and bad news, sweetie. The bad news is that I'm a dude and I've been hiding it for the past three years. The good news is that we wear the same shoe size and I won't object to anal." Seriously, if this guy could pull this off, hats off to him for have crazy negotation skills.

The article also goes on to say that he was being held on charges of swindling and posing as a woman. Feel free to insert your own tasteless Starr Jones joke here.

Kill Me

Oh what I wouldn't give for some coffee right now. And some cyanide. I'm sitting here on a godawful conference call with some irrational shrew who keeps talking over me (Pet Peeve #1). I honestly would rather be at Elton John's bachelor party than listen to this banshee wail on about indemnification for one more minute. I seriously wonder what the hell I was thinking when I went to law school.

Simply Obscene

At first glance you probably think, "Oh, there goes that kooky KFed as he's getting out of his $200,000 Ferrari. Man, that is a really expensive car, but you know what? He's worth it. Love knows no financial boundaries. Blah blah blah."

That is, until you take a closer look at the rims and you notice this on the brake calipers:



Holy shit. Yes boys and girls, KFed actually replaced the word "Ferrari" with "Federline." And if you don't believe me, you can go to the original source.

Who was the braniac that came up with this idea? The only thing I can guess is that he's had a lot of problems in the past with confusing his $200K Ferrari with someone else's, so he felt like the only way to keep them straight was to put his name on the brake calipers. Makes sense, although it would have been easier to simply get the vanity plate "FUCKWIT" from the California DMV.

Haven't I Heard This One Before?

A Republican lawmaker from Pennsylvania was recently convicted of a felony for making his legislative staff do political campaign work on state time.

The felony conviction of conflict of interest means that state Rep. Jeff Habay, a 6-term Republican from Allegheny County, will lose his state pension and could be removed from office by the Legislature. He also could face punishment ranging from probation to 15 months in prison, prosecutors said.

Honestly, this shit just writes itself.

Nice to see that the felony conviction "could" result in the loss of his job. Funny, but I have to believe that my employer would drop me like a hot rock if I were convicted of a felony. Of course, they would likely can me for posting this blog during work time, but that's beside the point.

But let's assume for a moment that Jeff gets the maximum penalty and goes to prison (I can dream, can't I?). Can you imagine the looks on the faces of his cellmates when he announces that he's been sent to the big house for conflict of interest? You can bet that at the end of that 15 month stay that his ass is going to look like a wizard's sleeve from all the abuse he'll receive. Oh well.

I Need An Alcohol Swab

A while back, I visited my old Denver hood to attend my former roommate's wedding in Breckenridge. A couple of good friends offered to let me stay at their homes (thanks again), and I ended up staying at the home of a good friend/former co-worker who was also attending the wedding. Since I only needed a place for one night (he was out of town), I took him up on his offer and decided to crash at his house.

Now I am not one to complain about a person's hospitality, but I felt compelled to comment on what I discovered there. In fact, I had to take a picture of it because 1,000 words isn't enough to describe it.




Now let's review the contents of the bedside table. Alarm clock and beside lamp ... check. Book ... pretty standard. Shoe horn. Hmmm. A shoe horn?! What the fuck kind of statement is he trying to make?

It's made even more disconcerting when you take a closer look and notice that the title of the book lying next to said shoe horn is "Drinking, Smoking & Screwing." I'm shocked that he had the good sense to hide the tub of KY Jelly that I'm sure was also resting there before I arrived. Unless, of course, he finished it up before I showed up. I feel dirty just thinking about it.

Okay Denver friends, can you guess whose house this is?

The Worst Job In The World

Since when did drinking from a straw become such a laborious task for Mariah ? Jesus Christ, I will never ever complain about my job again.

Self-Loathing, Thy Name Is James West

The mayor of Spokane was recalled in a special election after allegations surfaced that he used a city computer to visit gay chat rooms and offered internships and other favors to young men he hoped to have sex with. James E. West, a former Boy Scout executive (hmmmm), was elected mayor in 2003 after serving more than two decades as a conservative Republican in the state Legislature, where he voted against gay-friendly legislation.

I honestly couldn't care less about his orientation and any annoyance I might have about his "you rub my back, I'll scratch your front" internship program is far outweighed by the contempt I have for this asshole. Jesus Christ, it's 2005 for crying out loud. Stop the denial and self-loathing, accept yourself, and move on, for fuck's sake.

The only good thing is that he's provided yet another shining example of how hypocritically fucked up the conservative right is in this country. Not that we needed it mind you, but it's always a welcome reminder.

Waiter, There's A Finger In My Chili!

Calling the NCAA College football Bowl Championship Series "deeply flawed," the chairman of a congressional committee has called a hearing on the controversial system used to determine college football's national champion.

Joe Barton, a Texas Republican (surprise!) and Chairman of the House Energy and Commerce subcommittee, which is charged with regulating America's sports industry, announced Friday it will conduct a hearing on the BCS after this season's bowl matchups are determined.

"College football is not just an exhilarating sport, but a billion-dollar business that Congress cannot ignore," Barton. The committee announcement called for a "comprehensive review" of the BCS and postseason college football because "too often college football ends in sniping and controversy, rather than winners and losers. The current system of determining who's No. 1 appears deeply flawed."

Loyal readers can predict my next question.

What the fuck wrong with this right-wing, dickhead? Oh wait, he's from Texas. That makes more sense now.

Seriously, who gives a shit about the BCS? Sure, I like college football okay and can enjoy the hypothetical discussions about college football rankings but I don't take it that seriously. For example, Cal got royally screwed last year by the BCS. I grumbled about it but I eventually got over it. And I certainly didn't let it stick in my craw, unlike Barton who seems to have a hard on for college football and clearly doesn't have anything better to with his time.

What Barton evidently has failed to grasp with that conservative little Texas brain of his is that the NCAA welcomes and encourages the controversy since it draws more media and public attention (and therefore, money) to their sport.

Let it go, Barton. You really had better focus on more important things, like helping your homey Tom "The Hammer" Delay avoid the big house.

Which is Number is Greater, 37 or 37?

Uh oh. A recent court ruling could lead to the shutdown of all BlackBerry service in the United States. Evidently, RIM has some major U.S. patent issues and may soon no longer be able to provide the service domestically. Ouch.

Fantastic. I can't wait for the day that my BlackBerry service no longer works and I'm stuck with a $300 handheld device that only good for playing Texas Hold 'Em Poker and Breakout. If posting this blog during work hours wasn't enough of a productivity drain, wait until my CrackBerry goes dead. I do most of my work on that thing. I wonder if I can get unemployment if I am fired?

In Re: BHug

In the latest in a series of position reversals, Enrique Iglesias has
lashed out suggestions that he has a small wiener. Evidently, the stories are having a detrimental effect on his relationship with Anna Kournikova. Says Enrique, "It's not true and hurtful to me and my girlfriend."

I hate to break it to you Iggy, but you brought this shit on yourself when you said that you wanted to launch your own brand of small condoms because "I can never find extra-small condoms and I know it's really embarrassing for people."

I am still at a total loss to explain what would possess someone to even suggest that he has a small crank. And while I do believe that it was some sort of sneaky way to trick Anna into having butt sex ("Don't worry baby, you won't even feel it"), you have no one to blame but yourself. This is a classic case of In Re: BHug.

(Kudos to the handful of readers, if any, that get that reference. Glad to see you're reading.)

Bald People Are Funny

So it turns out that Sen. Arlen Specter is a regular reader of my blog, as it appears that he quickly had a change of heart about the whole "perhaps Congress should investigate whether the NFL and the Philadelphia Eagles violated antitrust laws in their handling of the Terrell Owens suspension" musings from yesterday.

Glad to have you on board, Senator. While I wasn't a big fan of your dubious work for the Warren Commission, I am genuinely sorry if I referred to you under my breath as a pompous fuckwit. But I am glad that to see that you came to your senses, you pompous fuckwit. Oops, I did it again.

This Pot Is Making Me Crazy!

Sen. Arlen Specter has accused the NFL and the Philadelphia Eagles of treating suspended wide receiver Terrell Owens unfairly, and might refer the matter to the antitrust subcommittee of the Senate Judiciary Committee.

Specter, who chairs the Judiciary Committee, said at a news conference that it was "vindictive and inappropriate" for the league and the Eagles to forbid the star wide receiver from playing and prevent other teams from talking to him. "It's a restraint of trade for them to do that, and the thought crosses my mind, it might be a violation of antitrust laws," Specter said.

For the love of Christ, what the fuck is wrong with Congress? Can we focus on some more important things like the war or poverty or deciding which conservative nut will be our next Supreme Court justice or anything else which is even remotely important? Investigating the NFL for possible antitrust violations because of the TO suspension strikes me as slightly less important as determining whether Heinz or Del Monte makes the superior ketchup (for the record, it's Heinz).

If you have so much free time Arlen, how about cleaning up your own your own kind? You've got fellow asshole Republican Randy "Duke" Cunningham resigning after pleading guilty to taking $2.4 million in bribes and you're focusing on a goddamned sport? Or do you think that the Duke (what a retarded nickname) is being similarly mistreated as Terrell Owens?

Fuck, we waste so much time and resources on ensuring that baseball players be free of performance enhancing drugs, but we don't even require mandatory drug testing for Congress? God, we are an entirely fucked up country right now.

Festivus is Upon Us

I loved Festivus (f/k/a Christmas / X-Mas and a/k/a Jesus Day!) when I was a kid. I loved the decorations ... the Charlie Brown Christmas special ... the tree ... the music ... oh yeah, and the presents.

Speaking of presents, you know, Santa, I've been pretty good this year. I mean, other than a few particularly mean rants in this blog. And I would mostly chalk that up to too much caffeine. So given that the official shopping riot season is upon us, here are the top items for my Christmas wish list:

* More media coverage of Paris Hilton and the Britney-Kevin marriage
* Yet another conservative, right wing nut for the Supreme Court
* Another visit to the Green Lantern in Washington, DC
* Four more years of George Bush (will accept the Jeb BushTM model as a substitute)
* More major mechanical work on my Land Rover
* More long trip turbulent air flight
* No pesky annual bonus to bump up my tax bracket

Oh yeah, and more world peace, too! Oh wait a second -- that was Christmas "I Pray These Things Won't Happen Next Year, But Know Damn Well They Will" list, Santa.

Oops! Sorry for the confusion. In any event, I don't need one of these, though. Merry Christmas, WM!

What Is My Problem?

I swear to god, I thought this posting thing would be a lot easier than I had originally figured. "How difficult is it to write a 3 or 4 paragraph rant every day?" I wondered. And now I know. It seems like the only time I write any halfway decent shit is when I'm 30,000 miles in the air and trying to get my mind off of my seatmate who keeps belching up his Italian sub sandwich. (As an aside, it was so strong, I could taste the salami when I breathed in that lovely recirculated airplane air.... mmmmmm.)

Thanksgiving was okay, I guess. Holiday plans were scuttled when the eldest progeny came down with a stomach virus and had to make a quickie visit to Children's Hospital on Friday morning for some tests. It wasn't anywhere as serious as the virus that knocked him out of commission for 2 weeks back in June, but it was a fun reminder that our health is fragile. So I guess I can say I'm thankful for his continued health.

Which reminds me of other things I am for: my family and friends ... my job (at least it's not co-counsel for the Saddam Hussein trial) ... Charlie Brown TV specials (which I've seen at least 1,000 times each) .... the Internet (or how else could I do my afore-mentioned job) ... "The Office" (BBC version, thankyouverymuch) ... coffee .... uhhhh, world peace. And some really, really important stuff that I can't think of right now. But you get the idea.

Anyway, I promise my loyal reader(s) to get my shit together and post more often. After all, what's more important than scanning my retarded posts every day? Yeah, yeah, I know -- pretty much everything else. But even so, my get-rich-quick, Internet/blog/IPO scheme ain't going to happen with my occasional, half-ass posts about Nelly and strippers.

Jane Magazine CD

I'm please to announce that my sister's fiancee Taro and his band "Inside Seka" beat out over a thousand people to be one of the 10 upcoming bands selected for Jane Magazine's Annual Reader CD. Here's the link to the songs which comprise the CD. Inside Seka appears on Track 1. Click on it to see his band and listen to the song. Or better yet, purchase the entire CD.

Nelly Ain't Keeping it Real

"Musician" and "actor" Nelly purportedly spent over $10,000 on toys for underprivileged children after he reportedly felt guilty after a strip club binge. Nelly made the donation after he and another "musician" spent $10,000 on strippers and alcohol during a wild night out.

Oooooh, Nelly's a bad boy because he ran up a $10,000 strip club bill.

Oh please. I tell you what, until you run up a $241,000 credit card bill at a strip club, I don't want to hear about that -- and I certainly don't want to read how you unburdened your guilt by buying a bunch of toys for kids. Jesus Christ, you're supposed to be pimp/hip-hop star and you sound like a fucking contrite politician. Instead of buying toys, you should have said fuck it and bought more lap dances.

Because you know when you're career as a hardened rapper is dead when some white bread CEO from the Midwest knows how to represent better than you.

Disney-licious!

So I took the little ones this weekend to see the latest Disney extravaganza, “Chicken Little,” and I have to tell you I was pretty disappointed. Look, I wasn’t expecting “Citizen Kane” here but I also wasn’t expecting the ninety minutes of pabulum that I was force-fed on Sunday. Jesus Christ, I do not recall Disney movies being this bad when I was young.

That being said, “Chicken Little” was far better than the last Disney movie I saw -- “Winnie the Pooh’s Heffalump Adventure.” That movie was jaw-droppingly bad. You could almost hear in the movie background the faint sound of Walt Disney rolling over in his cryogenic chamber. I would rather watch Paris Hilton’s next OBGYN visit than see that movie again.

I’m Sorry

Dear United Airlines:

I know I’ve had some harsh things to say about you, but really it was more about those parts about flying that I don’t enjoy and over which you exercise no control -- passengers, turbulence and the like. I was frustrated and blaming you for those things. And while it’s arguable as to whether any of my statements rose to the level of slander (my counsel has advised me that they do not), I realize that, at the very least, the derogatory statements I’ve made about you in person and print could be charitable described as derogatory.

The reason I am apologizing to you is because today, I flew another airlines -- I flew Southwest Airlines from Oakland to St. Louis -- and let me tell you I never realized how good I had it with you. Yes, I’ve experienced some of the same nuisances with you as I did with Southwest today. Today, it was shitty turbulence into Salt Lake City (as opposed to Denver) and an annoying passenger that smelled vaguely of cheese and body odor. But there was a lot of shit that Southwest did to me that you never did:

* There is no reserved seating whatsoever. While I can appreciate the egalitarian approach of a First Class-free airlines, I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the seating free-for-all that ensued when we boarded. It reminded me a little bit of law school when whatever random seat you selected on the first day turned out to be your permanent seating location for the entire semester. So Southwest reminds me of law school …. and I hated law school.

* Unbeknownst to me, a “direct” flight is not the same as a “non-stop” flight. “Non-stop” means you don’t stop at all between Point A and Point B. “Direct” means that you don’t have to get off the plane, but you could land numerous times between Point A and Point B. You never lied to me like that.

* 137 seats. 140 passengers. You do the math. Sugar, I never had anyone sit on my lap during one of your flights -- ever!

* You always take me to cool places I actually want to go to, like Washington DC, San Francisco, Denver, and Mexico. But this time, Southwest is taking me to Missouri -- which is one of the reddest of Red States -- and I really have no desire to go there. You never did that to me, honey.

Baby, I’m sorry it ever happened. Please forgive me. I promise it will never happen again. Except for Wednesday morning because flying you was like $600 more expensive. But then I promise never to go back again.

Love,

David James
Frequent Flyer #3939872

P.S. You also never subjected me to a 10+ minute discussion among the passengers sitting behind me as to whether Credence Clearwater Revival’s musical genre should be classified as folk, blues rock, country or soft rock. Who the fuck cares? And now I have a headache. Thanks Southwest passengers.

P.P.S. On a side note, I noted that Southwest only charges $4 for a cocktail and $3 for beer and wine. I’m not complaining mind you, just trying to give you an idea as to what the competition is doing.

I Love Rick Santorum

And by "love," I meant "loathe."

If you recall, Santorum is the guy that tried to equate sodomy with bestiality and incest. He's also the guy that wants to put a $250,000 cap on medical malpractice awards.

In a wacky bit of irony, it turns out that Santorum's wife sued a doctor for $500,000 in 1999 for pain and suffering due to a botched spinal manipulation ... which, ironically enough, turns out to be twice the amount of the cap which Santorum supported. Funny that his wife's 1999 suit must have conveniently slipped his mind.

Or it could simply be that Santorum is a hypocritical, worthless piece of shit.

Die Motherfucker, Die

Pat Robertson recently told a Pennsylvania town not to turn to God if things go poorly after the voters got rid out a school board that had backed intelligent design.

Here's Pat's exact quote:

"I'd like to say to the good citizens of Dover: If there is a disaster in your area, don't turn to God, you just rejected him from your city. And don't wonder why he hasn't helped you when problems begin, if they begin. I'm not saying they will, but if they do, just remember, you just voted God out of your city. And if that's the case, don't ask for his help because he might not be there."

Let's put aside for the moment that there's no "there" there. Words cannot describe how evil and soulless this man really is. I wish he would simply drop dead, rather than continue to spew his vitriolic hate.

He's no different than that asshole "Reverend Fred" (or whatever the fuck his name is) from Oklahoma that protests gay and lesbian gatherings while holding a big "God Hates Fags" sign. Except Pat has a wider audience and is, fortunately, older and closer to death. Amen.

Wow

I saw a brief article that said that Enrique Iglesias wants to launch his own brand of small condoms. Evidently, Enrique believes there's an untapped target market, which apparently includes himself.

What the fuck would possess someone like Enrique Iglesias to even hint at the fact that he has a small crank? Sweet Jesus, I didn't think there would be enough truth serum in the world for a sane man to admit that to anyone, let alone the media (not that contactmusic.com is the New York Times or anything, but still).

I am still at a total loss as to why you would ever state something like that unless:

(a) you were totally hammered,
(b) you were testifying in front of a grand jury (although that didn't really stop Scooter Libby), or
(c) it was some backwards way of tricking Anna Kournikova into having anal sex.

If anyone else has any other rational explanation, let me know.

United Ramblings

I’m flying again, which can only mean one thing -- time for some more random, nonsensical observations from 30,000 feet ….

* As much as I love to look at Scarlett Johansson, I just cannot bring myself to watch “The Island” as it plays on the plane. Putting aside the fact that all air flight movies go through some sort of weird sanitation process before being screening (translation: no boobies), it just looks like a horrible mashup of “Logan’s Run” and “Minority Report.” And now it appears that there are a couple of separate Ewan McGregors running around in the movie like some sort of bad homage to “Face Off.”

* Fifteen minutes of non-stop turbulence. Jesus-fucking-Christ … is there some way to fly from DC to California that does not involve traversing the Colorado mountain range and subjecting us to turbulence? Seriously, this shit is getting old.

* In order to help her rise from her chair, some woman sitting behind me keeps doing pull-ups on my seat, causing me to pitch backwards like I’m on some sort of goddamned roller coaster. Hey lady, would it kill you to say “excuse me” before giving me whiplash?

* It appears that I will be traveling to St. Louis and Denver on alternating weeks through the balance of the year for work. (God, I must have done something pretty shitty in a past life to deserve this.) It hasn’t been formally presented to me as such, but I figure that was for fear I would rent an AK-47 and go Tim Carrier on someone’s ass. While I have lots of friends in Denver, I only know BHug in Shit Louis. So if anyone can recommend anything fun to do in the Show Me state, please pipe up.

Lastly, thanks again for VMD and D-Rek for showing me a great time on Friday night. Don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t a “Let’s-Blow-$241,000-at-Scores” night (evidently that’s reserved for bigwigs), but it was a fun night nonetheless. Also, thanks again to the Davis family for putting me up (and putting up with me) this weekend. Thanks again, bro.

And I Thought Roberts Was Bad

Karl Rove is a smart motherfucker. Not only did he manage to avoid indictment (albeit, temporarily), he also managed to play us all like a bunch of chumps as it relates to the latest Supreme Court nominee. As one friend sadly predicted in her blog, Harriet Miers was likely nominated just so that should be predictably rejected in order to make way for Darth Alioto.

We all should have seen this one coming. GW (i.e., Rove) saw a golden opportunity to replace a moderate with a right-wing freak. If you read a summary of this guy’s legal opinions, you’ll find that this guy is Bork-alicioius (minus the fantastic chin-weasel that Bork sported). One commentator went so far as to say (warn?), “if confirmed, Alioto will immediately become the most conservative member of the Supreme Court.”

Fuck me.

“The most conservative member of the Supreme Court?” How do you accomplish that when you have Antonin “The Federalists are for Commies” Scalia and Clarence “Uncle” Thomas? Those wackos are so far on the right, that they’re on the left. And now we have another one to deal with?

I would rather gargle anthrax than see this fuck stick get confirmed to the Supreme Court. But I must admit that part of me is looking forward to the spectacle which will be his confirmation hearings, which I predict are going to be a huge war, bigger than Ali vs. Frazier … Red Sox vs. Yankees … Mary Kate vs. Paris …

The gloves are off Dems. Time to go Fight Club or else say goodbye “Roe v. Wade” and civil liberties.

Karma is a Bitch

As I’ve previously noted (or is it “blogged?” God, I hate that word), I really don’t like flying. I realize it’s a necessary evil -- but it’s still evil. It’s kind of like being an idiot savant. At the end of the day, you’re still an idiot.

Anyway, today’s flight is no different than others, just chock full of fun memories. To wit:

* The middle aged woman sitting in the seat across the isle from me is driving me fucking nuts. It’s fine that she wears those non-sensical “motion-sickness-away” wrist bands. But to help her cope with the flight, she insists on doing Tai Chi for a solid 10 minutes. During her yoga time, it’s almost impossible for others to pass her without smacking my elbow/head/shoulder with their ass, including the 400 lb. dude who just assaulted me with his brontosaurus-sized ass (no way to avoid him). And seeing as how he was back there for a solid 15 minutes, he probably just pinched a huge colon loaf (Hello Lenny Kravitz!). Lovely visual there.

* The woman in the seat in front of me is vigorously knitting a sweater and her head keeps bobbing back and forth, like a goddamned woodpecker. Man, she is into it. I guess I shouldn’t care, but it’s goddamn distracting and makes my seat vibrate. Jesus, I’d be happy to just give her the money to buy a sweater if she’d only just stop.

* I just returned from the loo which the 400 pound Sasquatch must have just used. That was awful. I’m not sure what the guy ate, but I’m guessing curried lentils and/or spareribs were on the menu.

* I’ve mentioned my distaste/fear of turbulence, which is probably the thing I like least about flying. And today’s flight was turbulent-riffic. It kicked in around the time we’d be over the Colorado mountains and lasted for half an hour. I timed it. Somehow, I was able to distract myself with trying to figure out the plot nuances of “Fantastic Four.” That and the tight shirts that Jessica Alba wore during the entire movie.

* The Tai Chi master moved on to reading a court complaint. God, she’s an attorney. I hate attorneys.

* Since it’s an 11 hour flight from CA to DC, we get two movies for the price of one. In addition to the aforementioned “Fantastic Four,” we’ve been blessed with “Rebound” starring Martin Lawrence, where he goes way out of character to play a [ CHOOSE AN ADJECTIVE: angry / crazy / street wise ] [ CHOOSE A NOUN: sidekick / wise guy / coach]. This guy is a master thespian. He should change his name to Martin Lawrence Olivier. God, this movie looks awful. I can’t bring myself to distract myself with it, no matter how bad the turbulence gets.

I finally arrived at Washington-Dulles to spend a drunken weekend with VMD, D-Rek (his blog is great - check this out) and Bad Perm James.

If past drinking patterns are indicative of future ones, I predict my entry into rehab will likely occur by mid-week. Keep you posted.

Also, good luck to Berkeley RFC in Arizona this weekend. I wish I were there, lads. See you next week.

First Lenny, Now Lindsay

Evidently Lindsay Lohan has some problems using the toilet.

Look, I love a good scat story as much as the next person, but this is getting ridiculous. Could it be that Lindsay has the same dietician as Lenny? Inquiring minds what to ..., uhhh, maybe not.

Lenny Kravitz If Fiber-riffic

Lenny Kravitz If Fiber-riffic

If I ever move to Manhattan, please remind me not to drop $3 million on an apartment located anywhere below Lenny Kravitz. According to a Smoking Gun report, Allstate Insurance filed a complaint in New York State Supreme Court contending that Lenny was negligent and careless for allowing his crapper to become "blocked, clogged, and congested."

(((Hurl!)))

Now it should be noted that: (a) Lenny’s mystery river of poo somehow migrated from his toilet, and seeped through the ground floor and made it all the way down to the apartment a few floors down, and (b) this is the second time Lenny's been sued for his toilet's inability to choke down whatever colon loafs Lenny keeps pinching off.

Lenny’s a rock star, so this obviously can’t be his fault. There are a slew (or would it be s-loo?) of other parties to blame -- perhaps it was the fault of the toilet manufacturer .... or maybe the building manufacturer .... or perhaps his dietician (I’m guessing the tofu-black bean chili or the curried chicken was the prime culprit).

Now if I were Lenny I would just assert the classic defense of “coming to the nuisance,” since his neighbors must have been known about his faulty plumbing (double entendre intended) given the prior lawsuit. If not, they sure as hell know now.

Ro ...Sham ... Bo!

It was with much anticipation that I saw that the World's Rock Paper Scissors champion was finally crowned. Big ups to Andrew Bergel, who took home the gold for his ingenious paper throw to defeat second place finisher Stan Long who, sadly, cast rock in his final throw. What a loser.

And while I could certainly use the $7,000 grand prize, I would rather pleasure myself in front of my entire family than admit to everyone that I was the Paper Rock Scissors champion of the world. Of course, I would probably rather watch the RPS tournament than, say, NASCAR.

Here Come The Judge (Part II)

So I'm reading excerpts of Harriet Miers' Supreme Court questionnaire and I must say it's a fascinating read. And by fascination read, I mean "boring waste of time." Honestly, she seems as interesting as a yawning festival. But, she is the next right-wing freak to be nominated to the Supreme Court, so I guess it's incumbent upon me to learn at least something about the Texas attorney with the shrunken apple head appearance.

In perusing her responses, I noticed the following interesting tidbit:

"Earlier this year, I received notice that my dues for the District of Columbia were delinquent and as a result my ability to practice law in D.C. had been temporarily suspended. I immediately sent the dues to remedy the delinquency. The non-payment was not intentioned, and I corrected the situation upon receiving the letter."

Look, I don't really mind the fact that her license to practice law was suspended in Washington D.C. for failing to pay bar dues . I can empathize with your empty bank account, Harry - my funds are usually tight at the end of the month and I've been known to utilize the overdraft protection on my checking account. Rather, I am far more offended and shocked by her atrocious grammar.

"The non-payment was not intentioned ..."

What the fuck? Is it too much to ask that our next Associate Supreme Court Justice be able to compose a simple sentence? And I don't even want to think about how many trained editors actually reviewed this piece o' work prior to its submission. Lord knows I'm no Bill Shakesepeare, but then again I’m not up for Supreme Court nomination. Which is a bad thing, because I think the job would be pretty scrumtralescent.

Dumb Monkey

Donald Rumsfeld is giving George W. Bush his daily briefing on the war and tells him that three Brazilian soldiers have been killed in Iraq.

Stunned, George says "oh my god, that's absolutely terrible," and is at a total loss for words.

He holds his head in his hands for several minutes, almost in tears.

His staff is amazed at the response as the whole room falls silent.

Finally, with a trembling voice, George lifts his head from the table and says, "exactly how many is a brazillion?"

O, Cum All Yee Faithful

I read a humorous article about a Mormon book store that removed all the DVD copies of “Sons of Provo” when it turned out that the DVD was, in fact, a gay porno called “Adored: Diary of a Porn Star.” Now I’m sure it was an honest mistake, although you would think that the picture of a naked male on the DVD cover would have tipped off a reasonably intelligent book store employee. However, we are talking about Mormons, which might explain the obtuseness.

As it turns out, the book store might have been seriously misguided in removing the movie. According to this website, certain forms of Christian are perfectly acceptable given certain parameters. I think this is fantastic news, although it would have been nice to have had this insight during that time of my life when I actually believed in this stuff. While the website sadly neglected to go into great detail, I was pleased to read that anal and oral will be able to make it into the films (although I think it’s safe to say that donkey and scat videos are a no no).

Given the profound number of Red State voters who are presumably an untapped market in the adult entertainment industry, I’m thinking that the Christian porn market could be a huge money maker. And I’m the one that’s more than willing to exploit this market. Now I’m not really interested in starring in them (unless, of course, Jessica Alba is in it) and I don’t really want to produce, write or direct them. Rather, I just want to be the guy that gets to develop the names of the movies. There’s certainly a number of great, biblically-based porn movie names* that are just begging to be made:

"Touched Down There By an Angel"

"Nuns Gone Wild, Volume III"

"David and Goliath's Lap"

"Let There Be Wood"

"The Three Wise Men and the Hooker"

"A Lay in the Manger"

"The Father, The Son, and the Glory Hole"

"Sex, Lies and Communion"

"Shall We Gather At My Wiener?"

"Nearer My Crotch To Thee"

"Midnight Mass-ive"

"A Pew Good Men"

"Three in a Confessional"

"Repentance in My Pants"

* Special thanks to VMD for helping to compile this list during at extremely boring work day at Qwest.

Who knows, maybe one day we’ll be able to buy "Thy Kingdom Cum" or "Sanctuary Gangbang" in our local Wal-Mart, if not the Desert Book outlet in Salt Lake City.

And yes, I know I’m going to hell. What’s your point?

I Hate To Fly - And It Shows

For those that don’t know me, I’m not a big fan of flying. And by “not a big fan of,” I really mean “strongly dislike.” It’s not just simply the flight itself. I’ve actually come to loathe the entire experience. From the security line strip show …. to the cattle call boarding process …. to the annoying/chatty/snoring seatmate …. to the inevitable armrest wrestling match … it’s just a not so great time. However, the gods have smiled down upon me today and blessed me with a few new bonus experiences during this trip (forgive the verb tense, but I typed these notes as they were happening at the airport/on the plane):

* Remind me when it was that men become incapable of carrying their fucking luggage? Seriously, what grown man is incapable of carrying a 25 pound bag and instead has to rely upon one of those rolling luggage devices? I nearly collided with some asshole that refused to lift his bags as he rounded a 90 degree corner -- even as he saw me oncoming -- forcing me to dive out of his way in order to avoid him. I honestly don’t know how I restrained myself from knocking the teeth out of his mouth.

* The woman sitting across the isle from me just started eating some carry-on Indian food. Lucky me. It smells like curried skunk. God, I pity whoever has to use the restroom after her tomorrow. I hope her ass burns later on like my nostrils are right now.

* The 50+ year old flight attendant keeps brushing up against me with her ass during this flight. Now, it’s probably just a serious of accidents or one big mere coincidence -- or it could just have to do with the fact that she has an enormous caboose. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she were a hot 50 year old, like Kim Bassinger. But I’ve seen Kim Bassinger … I’ve masturbated to Kim Bassinger … and you, ma’am, are no Kim Bassinger.

* The woman sitting next to me keeps dividing her attention between my laptop and the book that the window seat guy is reading. Jesus Christ, did it never occur to you that you would be stuck on an airplane for 2 1/2 hours with nothing to do? Would it kill you to carry on your own reading materials? Or did the Oakland airport sell out of Readers Digest? At last, she’s finally decided to peruse the United in-flight magazine “Hemisphere.” I guess the “Things To Do In Scottsdale” article was too tempting to resist.

* I think the curried beef woman just farted. Fuck, it smells like a combination of ass, rancid beef and paprika. God, I am going to puke right now.

* When flying in and out of Denver, one invariably experiences some turbulence when flying over the mountains. It’s just inevitable, so I figured I was accustomed to the bit of choppiness I thought I would encounter. I was dead wrong. There was an awful 10 minute stretch where the plane was bouncing around and I found myself shaking uncontrollably in my seat like Katharine Hepburn in a wind tunnel. Fun times.

I finally arrived at DIA and, with bags finally in hand, was off to my friend’s wedding weekend in Breckenridge. Thank god, I could use a drink (or six).

It's A Great Day (Continued)

I said earlier that this was a great day because I get to wake up tomorrow morning knowing that (a) Tom DeLay is in a world of shit right now, and (b) the greatest rivalry in all of sports is about to occur the following day with the winner taking the AL East.

Ladies and Gentlemen, here are the current standings in the AL East with the baseball season 97% over:

Teams / W / L / Playoff Odds*
Red Sox 92 / 65 / 66.16490
Yankees 92 / 65 / 55.95053

* As calculated by Baseball Prospectus

The AL East race is headed down to the wire and should get a lot more exciting this weekend when the New York Yankees (cue hissing noises) travel to Beantown to play my beloved Boston Red Sox. As noted above, the Sox are a slight favorite to win the East, mostly due to the fact that the Yankees are faced with playing all of their remaining 7 games on the road. The 3 game series should be epic. Game 1 looks to be a match up between the rookie Chien-Ming Wang and the veteran David Wells, winner gets to be first in the buffet line. Game 2 will be a matchup between the ugliest pitcher in baseball - Randy Johnson - and Tim Wakefield, who's been the Red Sox best starter all season. Game 3 looks like another classic game between two pitchers who are both named "TBD." In any event, it should be a fantastic series. Final prediction: Sox win 96 games, Yankees win 95 games, and George Steinbrenner's head implodes.

Of course, if the Sox stumble in their 2 games before their Friday matchup and end up losing to the infidel Yankees, you can be sure that I will be drowning my sorrows. Given that I'm attending a wedding this weekend it remains highly likely that I'll be drinking regardless of the outcome of the series. Go Sox!

Today is a Great Day

I promised myself no political rants today, but I couldn't resist myself when I read that Tom DeLay was indicted today. I honestly couldn't be happier than to see this happen to him. To quote Office Space, "Watch your cornhole, Tom."

More detailed blog to follow later today. This stupid work gig is getting in the way again.

Senator Affleck

I really hadn’t intended for this to turn into a political blog, but it seems to be working out that way. It seems that every other day there's an amazing (i.e., awful) story emanating from Washington DC that causes me to rant. The stories usually revolve around conservatives that seek to undermine science by teaching "intelligent design" in schools or which work every possible angle in order to get prayer back in school (let's just refer to it as a moment of silence).

So today's political gem comes from a Washington Post article which states that Democrats may convince Ben Affleck to run for the Senate from Virginia.

That would be Ben Affleck, the actor. The same one that did an entire semester at University of Vermont before dropping out. The one that makes his brother Casey look like the reputable actor in the family.

Uhhh, did I get conked on the head at a rugby game and totally miss something here? When did Ben Affleck become a valuable commodity for the Democrats? Have you seen this guy's resume? Is this some backwards way of pumping up Warren Beatty in a potential run for Governor of California? Or did I miss the work Ben did in the State Legislature between his roles in "Pearl Harbor" and "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back?"

Yes, his life is less of a total train wreck now that he replaced the crazy-diva Jennifer for the girl-next-door Jennifer. But just because he was successful at knocking her does not mean he would be successful as a Senator. Please, tell me what skill set did he learn on the set of "Daredevil" which could possibly translate into public service? Oh wait, he was an attorney as well as a crime-fighting superhero, so that makes sense.

I appreciate that he's a staunch Democrat, as well as a big supporter of John Kerry's failed 2004 campaign. Big shit, so am I. You don't see me running for governor. I admit that being a big fundraiser is a significant talent, but it should not be sufficient to curry favor with Dems in order to get a Senator gig out of it. If the Democrats really want to see Sen. George Allen rousted in 2006, they should focus on a candidate that's more likely to do that than star in "Surviving Christmas 2."

I Love Bill Maher

I'm sure it's some sort of blogging faux pas to simply regurgitate another person's work (at least I am not passing it off as my own), but Bill Maher's closing monologue from a few nights ago really summed up the state of the nation well:

"Mr. President, this job can't be fun for you any more. There's no more money to spend--you used up all of that. You can't start another war because you used up the army. And now, darn the luck, the rest of your term has become the Bush family nightmare: helping poor people. Listen to your Mom. The cupboard's bare, the credit cards maxed out. No one's speaking to you. Mission accomplished.

"Now it's time to do what you've always done best: lose interest and walk away. Like you did with your military service and the oil company and the baseball team. It's time. Time to move on and try the next fantasy job. How about cowboy or space man? Now I know what you're saying: there's so many other things that you as President could involve yourself in. Please don't. I know, I know. There's a lot left to do. There's a war with Venezuela. Eliminating the sales tax on yachts. Turning the space program over to the church. And Social Security to Fannie Mae. Giving embryos the vote.

"But, Sir, none of that is going to happen now. Why? Because you govern like Billy Joel drives. You've performed so poorly I'm surprised that you haven't given yourself a medal. You're a catastrophe that walks like a man. Herbert Hoover was a shitty president, but even he never conceded an entire city to rising water and snakes.

"On your watch, we've lost almost all of our allies, the surplus, four airliners, two trade centers, a piece of the Pentagon and the City of New Orleans. Maybe you're just not lucky. I'm not saying you don't love this country. I'm just wondering how much worse it could be if you were on the other side.

"So, yes, God does speak to you. What he is saying is: 'Take a hint.'"

Amen.

Forbes Is Retarded

Forbes recently published its annual report on the “Best Cities For Singles’” which ranks the top 40 U.S. cities based on Culture, Nightlife, Singles, Job Growth, Living Cost and Coolness (whatever that means) and then comes up with a composite ranking given each city’s score (1 being the highest, 40 being the lowest). From Forbes:

“Feel as if you're looking for love in all of the wrong places? Look no further--the Denver-Boulder metro area is America's best city for singles. Topping our list for the second consecutive year, the Mile High City edged out larger metros like Boston and San Francisco, thanks to its booming job market, relatively low cost of living and large university population.”

Here’s the complete report : http://www.forbes.com/2005/07/25/singles-best-cities_cx_05sing_0725land.html.

Now I’m sure Denver-Boulder’s #1 overall ranking will come as a huge surprise to all my friends and readers that live in, and complain about, the sleepy, Midwest cow town. Hell, you can’t even get Bloc Party to tour there.

Having lived in several of the cities mentioned (Denver, SF-Bay Area, DC and San Diego), I’m not sure that I entirely agree with Forbes’ findings. There were some aspects of the ranking which I found particularly enlightening (i.e., absurd):

* Culture - How the hell can anyone in their right minds rank Denver (3) ahead of NY (4), Chicago (7) and San Francisco (8.) in terms of culture? Are we talking about Denver, Colorado? Or is there a Denver, Italy or a Denver, France that I am unaware of? Or by “Culture,” do they really mean “Homogenous Sports Town”? Because if that’s the case, that makes all the sense in the world. And don’t ask me how Minnesota-St. Paul ranks at #6. Ridiculous.

* Nightlife- There is no way that Denver (11) has a better nightlife than Miami (14), Atlanta or New Orleans (20, pre-Hurricane Katrina). Jesus, you can’t even find a place to get a decent dinner after 10:00. And if anyone is thinking of Pete’s Kitchen, they must be confusing “decent dinner” with “salmonella poisoning.”

* Singles - What does this category mean? And how the fuck does Denver rank as the #1 city in the US? Despite it’s reputation as “Menver,” both single men and women alike complain about their inability to find a suitable mate in the city. If Denver is #1, I’d better prepare myself for a number of long, lonely nights in the SF-Bay Area.

* Cost Of Living - Having seen cardboard shanties for sale in SF for $500K+, I have a hard time believing that there’s any city where the cost of living is higher than San Francisco (24). Where could it possibly be more expensive to live? The moon? Inside J-Lo’s vagina? WTF?

* Job Growth - Las Vegas (“Vegas Baby, Vegas!”) was #1, followed by Austin (2), Orlando (3), Phoenix (4), Salt Lake City (5) and Sacramento (6) in terms of burgeoning cities. Uhh, thanks, but I’ll pass. I would rather have an incurable STD than live in any of those cities. Why can’t any “cool” cities have “job growth”? Or are the 2 categories mutually in compatible, like oil and water?

There’s a lot of things I like (and miss) about Denver, but Culture and Nightlife aren’t two of them. Unless by “Culture” and “Nightlife” you really mean “friends” and “wings at the Cherry Cricket.”

Here Come The Judge!

John Roberts is on his way to being confirmed to the US Supreme Court today and will serve as its next Chief Justice. Hooray. I can't wait. Do you suppose that he’ll face resentment from other Associate Justices, all of whom were passed over for promotion? For the love of God, Stevens has been an Associate Justice for 30 years! Where’s the love? Oh well, I guess it could have been Scalia.

Now I would rather eat a popsicle covered with fire ants than see this asshole confirmed to the Supreme Court -- let alone Chief Justice. I don’t have any issues with Roberts’ legal qualifications. God knows he’s a far better attorney than me (of course that’s like winning the “Tallest Midget” contest).

The Washington Post -- which supports Roberts’ confirmation -- praised him by stating:

“Judge Roberts represents the best nominee liberals can reasonably expect from a conservative president who promised to appoint judges who shared his philosophy. Before his nomination, we suggested several criteria that Mr. Bush should adopt to garner broad bipartisan support: professional qualifications of the highest caliber, a modest conception of the judicial function, a strong belief in the stability of precedent, adherence to judicial philosophy, even where the results are not politically comfortable, and an appreciation that fidelity to the text of the Constitution need not mean cramped interpretations of language that was written for a changing society. Judge Roberts possesses the personal qualities we hoped for and testified impressively as to his belief in the judicial values. While he almost certainly won't surprise America with generally liberal rulings, he appears almost as unlikely to willfully use the law to advance his conservative politics.”

That sounds like wishful thinking to me and misses the point of the Roberts confirmation process. The issue has to do with his views and how he would respond if he were faced with certain legal issues. I think that the NY Times got it correctly when it stated:

“It has been difficult for senators to extricate his views. During his brief term as a judge, he has written few notable opinions. The White House has refused to release the memorandums he wrote in the solicitor general's office, which could have been revealing. Memos from earlier in his career raise red flags on issues like civil rights, women's rights and the right to privacy - which he dismissed, at one point, as the "so-called 'right to privacy.' " When confronted with this record, he often gave the impression of having moderated his views, but stopped well short. Over days of testimony, he dodged and weaved around many other critical legal issues. On abortion, church-state separation, gay rights and the right of illegal immigrants' children to attend public school - all currently recognized by the court - he asks to be accepted on faith.”

Accept on faith? Are you kidding me? The only thing I accept on faith is the fact that there will hot coffee at Peet’s when I go there in order to caffeinate after my ridiculously early 8:30 staff call. But that’s about it. Roberts represents a huge unknown risk, especially since he’s likely to serve 30+ years on the court. I recall that we did this same song and dance with Clarence Thomas when he was confirmed, where he refused to state a position on Roe v. Wade and trumped the confirmation hearings by throwing out the race card by referencing his high tech “lynching.” In fact, the only think I know about Roberts is that he looks like a right-wing freak and, evidently, he’s never sexually harassed Anita Hill. Big deal, neither have I.

First Amendment Repealed?

When it comes to free expression, I am as libertarian as they come. I am a big believer in the First Amendment. I strongly endorse freedom of speech, freedom of the press, and the free exercise of one’s religion (just don’t teach that “intelligent design” crap in public school). So I believe in free expression, I really do.

And this extends to expressing one’s self via clothing and choice of dress. As you could guess, I’m not a big fan of mandatory school dress or clothing conformity. However, my endorsement of the First Amendment extends only to the door of the 24 Hour Fitness where I work out, within which I have seen an amazing array of entirely unacceptable workout attire. To wit:

* Wool caps - you live in Northern California and it’s 70+ degrees outside. Why the hell do you think you need a wool cap in the gym? To keep warm? Try being homeless in Washington DC for a weekend and then see if you really need it.

* Do-rags - I like to think I’m hip, but I honestly don’t understand this fashion trend. Slightly less acceptable than the wool cap.

* Spandex - I can envision certain limited instances where a minimal amount of spandex is acceptable. However, to the women at the 24 Hour Fitness in Oakland who wears the same goddamned spandex outfit (black leggings with fluorescent pink “bathing suit/thong” top) every night -- please, for the love of god. STOP IT! I would rather watch Courtney Love get a pap smear than watch you prance around the gym in that ridiculous outfit, pausing in front of every mirror so you can admire your “double bicep” pose. Enough is enough.

* Baggy Parachute Pants - these went out around the time MC Hammer dropped the “MC” from his name. Please stop.

* Loafers - for the love of god, invest in some form of athletic shoe. There is no justification for doing leg presses in a tasseled loafer. Fucking ridiculous.

* Ninja outfits - this is a new entry and was actually spotted today at the gym. Jaw dropping.

* Work clothes - there is no reason to work out in khakis. Ever.

* Shoes without socks - disgusting. Why don’t you just wear a skunk on your feet instead?

* Headbands - hey Olivia Newton John -- are you really sweating that profusely? Can’t you just bring a towel to mop your sopping brow?

* Jean cutoffs - unless you’re Daisy Duke or an 8-year old on a camping trip, this is never acceptable attire.

I won’t even get started with the appalling mix of music, which included songs by each of the talentless Simpson sisters and, I think, the Pointer Sisters. Would it really cut into the gym’s profit margin to invest in XM Radio or Sirius satellite radio service?

Monkey No Like GW

I've uncovered a previously-unpublished photo which is either:

(a) GW working on his memoirs while in the Oval Office, or
(b) Current Supreme Court-nominee John Roberts typing up potential non-answers to questions he faces during the Senate confirmation hearings.

If you chose (a), I'm sorry but you guessed wrong. I admit that there is a stunning resemblance between GW and this chimpanzee, not to mention the fact that they both possess opposable thumbs. However, I have to put the monkey higher up on the evolutionary/intelligence scale than GW. Plus, I am pretty confident that GW lacks the mental capacity to type. I do believe, though, that if we got 99 more monkeys and 99 more typewriters, they could, in fact, type Shakespeare. Or perhaps GW's White House memoirs.

*** Disclaimer ***

If you are reading this then this warning is for you. Every word you read of this useless fine print is another second off your life. Don't you have other things to do? Is your life so empty that you honestly can't think of a better way to spend these moments? Or are you so impressed with authority that you give respect and credence to all who claim it? Do you read everything you're supposed to read? Do you think everything you're supposed to think? Buy what you're told you should want? Get out of your apartment. Meet a member of the opposite sex. Stop the excessive shopping and masturbation. Quit your job. Start a fight. Prove you're alive. If you don't claim your humanity you will become a statistic. You have been warned ....... Tyler Durden