SPAM Prevention Step #1

Okay, to avoid the increasingly annoying SPAM I've turned on word verification. Unfortunately it will require ligit commentors to enter a sequence of letters in order to post.

Sorry for the extra step, I'm currently contemplating my counter-attack.

Chicken Little

Nothing pisses me off more than.....wait a second. I think I use that phrase too much. I mean, in reality there should only be one thing that gets labeled as "Pisses Me Off More Than Anything Else!" Boy.....um.....what would that be. I mean there are sooooo may things to choose from. Oh yeah, stupid people. That’s definitely number one. But maybe that's not specific enough. I mean, I'd need a pretty big label. I don't think they make labels that big. Yeah, a big sticky "for stupid people" label. That would be sweet. Like a giant fly trap for stupid people. I could lay it out in a parking lot and put up a sign “Free Money”. Eh…too much work. I could just get a lot of little ones and slap them on peoples foreheads. That sounds like a lot more fun.

Anyway where was I. Oh yeah, this week’s labelee is the author of the following letter. It is from the Gotta Vent section of a local advertising rag. I have some comments when you’re done reading and you've picked yourself up off the floor. Yeah I know....shocking. Jimbo has comments.

I am sick of seeing my neighbors tree branch hanging at least 6 inches over the property line into MY yard. I knew this would happen the day he planted it.
At the time it was 5 feet from the line, but in just 2 years it has grown enough to where one of the branches started creeping toward the line and now it is OVER the line into MY YARD. I do not want to confront him but it just makes me sick, seeing that branch EVERY DAY in MY YARD!!!

Let’s take a look at this letter in a little bit of detail. The question of the authors gender should be dealt with first. It doesn't really matter if it’s a man or a woman, but I know all the guys reading this immediately thought “stupid bitch” and all the women thought “dumb bastard”. I believe this letter was written by a woman, and here’s why. If she can tell the different between 6 and 9 inches from her kitchen window, you know she’s been disappointed in the past. Secondly, she makes it a point to let everyone know she knew this would happen. The I Told You So syndrome. Third, she’s unwilling to confront the neighbor, but she’ll scream from the roof tops, and the local papers, that she’s been wronged. Classic female passive-aggressive response. And finally, she states that the issue has made her sick. Maybe this is a figure of speech, but it’s my guess that this woman has actually become physical ill from worrying over this situation. A guy would take action, not sit on the toilet writing letters. Now, it was suggested to me that the author could be a homosexual male. Good point, but my money’s on a woman.

Now that we’ve settled that, let’s take a look at the stupidity of this person. Let me get this straight. She owns a home, it has a yard, it’s not flooded, blown down, or on fire (I assume this because this type of person would be bitching about these things first). You have time to write this type of letter so I can assume you are either on welfare or have a job that provides you with more than enough food. What the hell do you have to complain about? In this world full of hurricanes, tsunami, and Michael Moores, the best you can come up with to bitch about is a 6 inch twig? Oh, sorry. I didn’t insult your husband there did I? Where the hell is the husband anyway? My guess is that we’re looking at a letter from a blue-haired spinster. But that can’t be because the woman knows how to SCREAM in electronic communications. That would be an indication of youth.

Are you such a sad little person that you’ve actually been watching this tree grow, waiting for the day you could write this letter? That branch doesn’t make me sick. You make me sick. The thought that you’ve had the privilege to be born and grow old in this country while others in this world only dream of such wondrous luck. I hope the tree falls over INTO YOUR YARD and CRUSHES YOU AND CRAPPY LITTLE HOUSE. That would truly be a sad day…FOR THE TREE.

The Poor: Problem Solved

Here is an interesting article with some good statistics on the situation of the poor in America. The most amazing quote is this one, "one of every three children—and seven of every 10 black children—are born outside marriage." What can this be attributed too? Stupidity of course. But not the one you think. I'm not talking about the stupid guys that act like R. Kelly or the stupid girls that can't find a way to keep their knees from springing apart. I'm talking about the stupidity of our government to think that social reform for the poor can be managed through food stamps, welfare, and other soft social programs with all the crutches in the world but no physical therapy. We can give them fish but we can’t seem to find a way to teach them to fish.

Since we’ve spent decades dealing with this problem without meaningful results I have decided that the government needs to take a different approach. We must begin a coordinated and well executed plan to “assist” our poor, both citizens and illegals, to see that their best opportunity for the American Dream can be found in Canada.

That’s right, we’ve go to get as many people moving north across our northern border as there are moving across our southern border, and then some. The Canadians, with their social systems, and vast natural resources are much better prepared to deal with these people than the tards running our government.

What better time to start than with the evacuation of the gulf coast from hurricane Rita. Let’s start IDing those people who fall below our poverty level, put them on buses and haul their asses to Minnesota. There we can give them border crossing packs with a small caliber hunting rifle, snow shoes, a copy of Hockey for Dummies, an English to French dictionary (just in case), a CD of Bryan Adams’ Greatest Hits, and a map with all the major landmarks identified like the Labatt’s Brewery. Then we point north, smack ‘em on the ass, and send them on their way.

Once we’ve cleared out southern Texas we can move on to other areas of the country, like Southern California. There we need to make sure we’re not looking at income only, but also living expenses. Dumb asses like Michael Jackson and Mike Tyson who have made millions and squandered it all should be put on buses too, but not with little kids. Maybe those two should just have a bus all to themselves. See I figure with a little creative accounting, I can get rid of most anyone I want, like that fat pig Best Grip Mike. I figure he’s made several million on his stupid “documentaries” like Fahrenheit 165: The perfect Internal Temperature of Hot Dogs. Dude’s got to eat at least a $100,000 a month in food. There’s no way his bottom line can be above $19,000. “On the bus Mike, before I take that Twinkie away from you.”

Problem Solved. Damn I’m so freaking smart. This took me, maybe, 10 minutes to figure out. Anybody else got a problem they want help with?

The Beast Cometh!

I'm not sure if any of you have had a chance to check out Lumpy's Oddyessy, but it is a great site. It's a great twist on a very common life change.

Lumpy, thanks for the laughs. And keep 'em coming.

People Don't Get It!

Hey, what’s up with people who get angry at sarcastic comments. I mean it’s not like the comments are swift and powerful sword strokes at an individual’s intelligence or lack there of. Except that most of the time they are sword strokes aimed at an individual’s intelligence. Some people get all worked, and all I can think is, “Yes I was mocking you. Can I have my fries now.” Most people take the Stooges approach to humor and beat you over the head with it. There’s no skill in that. If humor were food, sarcasm would be the meat food group.

Play Football in a French Maid Outfit

Football season is upon us and that can only mean one thing. Fantasy football is killing work productivity everywhere. Years ago fantasy football was for the true football fan. Players would pour over stats in the newspaper and watch all the football they could on three channels. Now you’ve got internet sites, magazines, and television shows devoted to the subject of which player will catch more passed or gain more yards this week. With this influx of information we’ve seen an influx of new players, people that probably shouldn’t be playing, but they’re willing to pony up their $50 or $100 league fee to take a stab. In poker we call them fish; easy money. Unfortunately you have to deal with the issues that these “easy money” players bring with them.

Here are a couple of quick questions you can use to determine if you are a fish (if you answer no to more than one of them then you are probably a fish):

1. Can you name all 32 NFL teams?


2. Can you name the starting quarterbacks for each team?


3. Can you explain the tuck rule in 15 words or less?


4. Would you say that Atlanta is more likely than Green Bay to win the Super Bowl this year?


5. Does Manning play quarterback for New York or Indianapolis?


6. Do you know that special team’s players do not ride a short bus to the stadium?


7. It is more important to watch a game in high definition for the game itself than for the cheerleaders?


8. Jeff George was run out of the league prematurely?


9. If your league bases scoring on REC, ATT, YDS, YPC, YPA, TD, TDT would you not draft a kicker?


10. Regardless of your leagues scoring system, would you prefer not drafting a kicker?

I also thought it might be interesting to outline the different types of players. If you play, you probably fall into one or more of these categories. If you don’t you’re probably not being honest with yourself.

Homer—This player just can’t put his favorite team aside come draft day. Claiming he wants to see his players play he’ll go out of his way to take players from his own team. Often this is also coupled with the concept of not taking players from arch-rival teams. Typical Homers will take players from their team 2-4 rounds before they should have been taken. Homers are dumb. Mostly because the team they follow isn’t the Patriots, but also because they take guys like Willis McGahee with the 2nd overall pick.

Hard Luck Loser—Actually a solid player, the HLL usually comes out of the draft with a team that can compete for the championship. That is until week 2 when his #1 running back blows out his knee. And then his kicker pulls a groin muscle celebrating a meaningless field goal. Of course, any player this person picks up will either get injured or simply under perform. This player is also likely to leave lots of points on their bench when 3rd and 4th tier players have a career game.

Ex-Jock—The ex-jock is the guy in high school (and possibly junior college) that thought he knew everything about girls, cars, football, etc. This attitude, despite his complete failure as an athlete and a contributing member of society, remains. During the draft he’ll rest each of 12 consecutive beers on his gut, while he shovels fists full of Doritos into his mouth. Having no clue, and thinking players have already been selected because of a cheese-stained cheat sheet, he selects players that were in their prime when he was in his. Ex-jocks are the easiest money of all.

Smack Talker—You know this guy. This guy likes to run his mouth pre-draft, at the draft, and during the entire season. He’ll rip on your players, your moves, and your mother. He could be 0-5 or 5-0 and he’ll still find a way to bust your balls. Personally I like the Smack Talker, they’re entertaining easy money who are distracted so much by their smack that they don’t pay enough attention to their team.

Gambler—This is the guy willing to fill his roster with “sleeper picks” and long shots. He’ll draft rookies, high profile backups, and anyone else he thinks he can get cheap and turn into a big find. Problem is there are only about two of those guys each year. Often he’s convinced himself that some of these players are coveted by everyone and he’ll take them rounds ahead of where they should be drafted. Occasionally they’ll win, but more likely they’ll lose and along the way develop resentment towards those players that under perform, like Michael Jackson with little boys...if they don't perform don't invite them over again.

Expert (Self-proclaimed) —No explanation needed.

Dweeb—The Dweeb spends the entire off-season developing and perfecting a points-based statistical system to stack rack each player by position. Also included in the calculations are: home/road records, day/night records, rain/snow records, altitude and heat index rankings, chunky soap cans consumed per week, law enforcement run-ins annually, cell phone calls received in the end zone per game, and total copulations with team mascots. The Dweeb then creates a spreadsheet to manage this complex system and spends hours entering the data into it. The Dweeb is most easily identified by this one simple draft-day phrase, “He’s the best value on my board.” Yeah, but he’s the second kicker you’ve taken in the first 6 rounds. Dumb ass.

(Note: The Dweeb is also likely to try to trade draft picks with you thinking that he knows exactly how the draft will play out and that the 3rd and 22nd picks are going to be more valuable than the 7th and 13th picks. What he fails to realize is that he’s drafting with a bunch of Gamblers, Homers, and other easy money that make all his calculations useless.)

Then of course there are the combos, Smack Talking Ex-Jock, Ex-Jock Homer, and of course the Smack Talking Expert (Self-Proclaimed). I hate them the most.

I Think I Threw Up a Little In My Mouth

No, not Dodgeball. There isn't much that can actually turn my stomach but this story did. Apparently trips in car trunks wasn't enough.

Children Found In Cages.

Arguments Are a Lot Like Poker

I dislike bad drivers a lot. Okay, I'll be honest....I think bad drivers embody what's wrong with our society. Driving is a privilege. Most people treat it like a right. Last time I checked the Constitution driving cars, wagons, or anything else wasn't protected. You have the right to pay income tax, even to own a car, but driving it is a privilege.

So my wife tells me this story which epitomizes those who: refuse to use their turn signal, drive at excessive speeds, tail gate, make unsafe lane changes, and generally don't pay attention to what they're doing. As she was about to enter a turn lane for a left hand turn the car behind her moved into the median before the turn lane started and began accelerating. As my wife began move into the turn lane she realized this car was about to rear-end her. The accident was averted but it didn't end there. Both of them pulled into the parking lot of the Post Office where, unlike her, my wife exits her car, approaches the other driver (a woman), and asks her, "Did you know you almost hit me?"

It was at this point that the woman of the other vehicle panicked, "You're crazy. Did you get out of your car to tell em that? You're crazy." My wife, in a calm manner began explaining to the woman why she was in the wrong. The woman continued to scream "crazy" never once thinking that a simple I'm sorry could defuse the situation. It's my right to drive, and it's my right to drive anyway I see fit.

But this is where it gets really good. After my wife gets the last word (or so she thinks) and begins to walk away the woman yells after her, "Who do you think you are? I was just diagnosed with MS and I only have two years to live." This is what I call the Big Raise. Because she didn't have anything to stand on she pushed more chips into the pot in hopes of stealing it (the argument). My wife is always really good at coming up with come backs, but usually it's about 5 minutes after they would have been useful. My wife simply walked away.

I don't know crap about MS but I do know that I've never heard of anyone dying from it. That's tell #1. Tell #2, and I didn't even have to see the exchange to know this, was the frantic "your crazy" bluff. I would have simply re-raised (or gone "all in"). I wouldn't give the woman the satisfaction of stealing anything. My all-in move would have been something like this:

• "Wow, and I just diagnosed you with a case of SD, Shitty Driving. Bad day huh."
• "Good luck with the MS symptoms, FOR THE NEXT 30 YEARS."
• "Keep driving like that and you might not make it two years."
• "Here's my address, have someone let me know when your no longer able to drive."
• "My advice, reduce the load on the medical system. Kill yourself now."

Dying from MS my ass. More like, I need people to feel sorry for me even when I'm a dumb-ass with no "right" being on the road. And why is it that we've become a society that is deathly afraid of conflict. I'll leave that topic for another time.

My Haiku to Bad Drivers:

Lack of attention

no signal; a person hurt

My foot in your ass

It's About Freak'in Time

It's about time someone with knowledge, experience, and facts spoke up.

Screw you and your lame-ass political agenda Best Grip Mike. You make me want to vomit.

Blame Amid the Tragedy

Ricky Williams Was (Almost) Onto Something

I know I'm in my prime earning years, but Ricky Williams and the situation in the gulf coast has gotten me thinking. I think I'm going to have to retire. I need to pursue some of my life goals. I've always wanted to be a marksman. I mean, headshots at 1000 meters kind of marksman. I also see a lot of suffering in the world that I'd like to try to fix. So I thought, hey why not retire and tackle both at the same time. My plan is to develop a new healing philosophy that I'm going to call Ballistic Medicine. I believe, through the appropriate application of high powered projectiles, that I can cure "what ails" most people.

These might be physical pains but, more commonly, these are going to "life pain". The things that drag you down. The things that cause physical and emotional damage. In many cases just suggesting that a large caliber weapon might be able to cure them will...surprisingly...cure them. But on the occasion where the person doesn't realize the source of their pain, or if they happen to be someone's source, a small piece of metal traveling at 800m per second will usually do the trick.

If Cupid can cure a broken heart with a stupid little arrow just think what I can do with an M82A1 sniper rifle. So while I won't be smoking pot or spending time as a roadie for Lenny Kravitz, I will be practicing my skills and trying to find patients.

I'm so committed to this idea I may even think about it again tomorrow.

Death, Taxes and the Retardedness of Michael Moore

The best thing (this week) about the star of Fat Bastard: The Movie is the sheer volume of material he gives me. And I was worried about topics for this week. Let's take a close look at his recent "letter" to President Bush. Rather than craft a response to his babble I thought I'd instead comment on it point by point. Feel free to chime in with any other reactions.

================================


Dear Mr. Bush (why is it that people who don't respect the person can't respect the office? From now on I'll be calling this ass-hat 'Best Grip Mike'):
Any idea where all our helicopters are? Do I even respond to this asinine question? Yeah, that's the best way to get people out of the city....25 at a time. What a douche bag. Maybe what you should be asking is why, if there was a mandatory evacuation, was there no public transportation provided out of the area? It's Day 5 of Hurricane Katrina and thousands remain stranded in New Orleans and need to be airlifted. Where on earth could you have misplaced all our military choppers? Asked and answered. Do you need help finding them? Dude, you can't even see your toes....how are you going to help him find helicopters. I once lost my car in a Sears parking lot. Man, was that a drag. Actually Best Grip Mike, it was a KFC parking lot and you couldn't find your car because your glasses were covered in chicken grease.

Also, any idea where all our national guard soldiers are? We could really use them right now for the type of thing they signed up to do like helping with national disasters. How come they weren't there to begin with? Shockingly, these are marginally good questions...but how about this one? For the nation guardsmen that were in-state, why weren't they used to assist with the evacuation?

Last Thursday I was in south Florida and sat outside while the eye of Hurricane Katrina passed over my head. Yeah right, there's not a chance in hell you could fit inside the eye of a hurricane. Exaggerating to make a point is just silly. It was only a Category 1 then but it was pretty nasty. Eleven people died (9 of 11 died because they were stupid and hundreds of others were scared to the brink of death at seeing Best Grip Mike shirtless.) and, as of today, there were still homes without power. That night the weatherman said this storm was on its way to New Orleans. That was Thursday! Did anybody tell you? I know you didn't want to interrupt your vacation and I know how you don't like to get bad news. Plus, you had fundraisers to go to and mothers of dead soldiers to ignore and smear. You sure showed her! Hey fat-ass, last time I check the Constitution of the United States there wasn't anything in there about the federal government taking action on US soil without a request (or at least permission) from the state. You remember that concept right, States rights. In fact Amendment X simply says:

The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people.

You and your kind want the federal government involved in everything. But I'm pretty sure the States don't want it that way, and most intelligent people don't either. It's not the federal governments responsibility. The state and local governments are the ones that f'ed this up.

I especially like how, the day after the hurricane, instead of flying to Louisiana, you flew to San Diego to party with your business peeps. Don't let people criticize you for this -- after all, the hurricane was over and what the heck could you do, put your finger in the dike? Seriously, does it really matter where he was. I mean, yeah showing support for the situation would have been better, but are you saying that having him "on-site" would have improved the situation? Are you telling me Mike that if you were President and something like this happened that we'd be able to pry you away from the Denny's All-You-Can-Eat Seafood Buffet?

And don't listen to those who, in the coming days, will reveal how you specifically reduced the Army Corps of Engineers' budget for New Orleans this summer for the third year in a row. You just tell them that even if you hadn't cut the money to fix those levees, there weren't going to be any Army engineers to fix them anyway because you had a much more important construction job for them -- BUILDING DEMOCRACY IN IRAQ! Read me lips....local and state governments have responsibilities for their own shit!

On Day 3, when you finally left your vacation home, I have to say I was moved by how you had your Air Force One pilot descend from the clouds as you flew over New Orleans so you could catch a quick look of the disaster. Hey, I know you couldn't stop and grab a bullhorn and stand on some rubble and act like a commander in chief. Been there done that. I'm sorry Best Grip Mike. Where were you during all of this? See, that doesn't really matter either. You see in this wonderful country we call the United States, and in this great time we call the 21st century we have things like telephones, emails, and other forms of communication that enable people, like the President, to get information and give orders without actually being there.

There will be those who will try to politicize this tragedy and try to use it against you. Um...you mean like you? Don't get me wrong, the feds dropped the ball once the states asked for help; they responded far too slowly. But the extent of this disaster is placed firmly on the shoulders of the states. Just have your people keep pointing that out. Respond to nothing. Even those pesky scientists who predicted this would happen because the water in the Gulf of Mexico is getting hotter and hotter making a storm like this inevitable. Maybe if you weren't vacationing in Florida contributing all that additional hot air the gulf coast might have been spared. Interesting, maybe I should make a documentary chronicling your vacation and subsequent involvement in growing Katrina from a Cat 1 to a Cat 5 hurricane. Retarded, left-wing conspiracy freaks might be interested. Ignore them and all their global warming Chicken Littles. There is nothing unusual about a hurricane that was so wide it would be like having one F-4 tornado that stretched from New York to Cleveland. Actually fart-knocker, it would be at least an F5, but more likely an F6 tornado. If you're going to try to sound intelligent get your facts (and scales) right. You realize that your personal size scale of small, big, and "in-my-belly" doesn't work for most people. If you had a tornado that "stretched" from New York to Cleveland, the corresponding hurricane (to scale) would be ~2100 miles across. About the length of you belt. As you can guess Katrina was quite a bit smaller than that. But it should be stated that the women in your life are right, size doesn't matter. Wind speed is where it's at with tornados and hurricanes. You're such a dumb-ass.

No, Mr. Bush, you just stay the course. It's not your fault that 30 percent of New Orleans lives in poverty or that tens of thousands had no transportation to get out of town. Wow, the first correct statement he's made. Wait, was he trying to be sarcastic. He's a funny, funny (looking) man. C'mon, they're black! I mean, it's not like this happened to Kennebunkport. Can you imagine leaving white people on their roofs for five days? Don't make me laugh! Race has nothing -- NOTHING -- to do with this! I'll save my feedback here for another time.

You hang in there, Mr. Bush. Just try to find a few of our Army helicopters and send them there. Pretend the people of New Orleans and the Gulf Coast are near Tikrit. You hang in there Best Grip Mike. Just try to find a couple more (dozen) donuts and stuff them down your throat. Pretend that there aren't hungry children the world over that would gladly lick the raspberry filling off your double chin. I hope someday soon you get diabetes.

It's Only a Matter of Time

The Katrina disaster is a horrible thing. I hope everyone takes a minute to think about how they can help, give blood, donate time or money, or simply pray for those that have lost loved ones, homes, and in essence their "lives".

There have been stories of people seeing poisonous snakes and alligators in the flood waters but interestingly no sharks. No, not the ones with gills and fins. The ones with designer suits and BMWs (or those Porsche Boxsters....seriously is that the most ball-less sports car ever made? Only complete douche bags drive those things.) Yes, I'm talking about...sigh...lawyers.

It won't be long until we see their kind circling the aftermath looking for their next victim. At some point we'll see someone sue the city/state/federal government, and the local weatherman for not giving adequate warning of the impending disasters. The lawyers will site Liebeck vs. McDonalds for precedent. Someone else will sue FEMA for not "getting to them quickly enough". I actually saw some guy complaining about this on the news last night. He's standing in his completely destroyed neighborhood wondering why help hasn't arrived. Maybe, and think about this, THEY CAN'T GET TO YOU. Or maybe, THEY'VE GOT MORE PRESSING CONCERNS. You want my guess, YOU'RE ON THE A-HOLE LIST SO THEY'RE EXCLUDING YOU INTENTIONALLY. Holy crap I am so sick of people who can't do for themselves. Maybe if you'd gotten out when everyone else did you'd be watching some other a-hole on TV whining, what about me, what about me. I hate people. Let's put just the "What about me" people in the Astrodome and accidently implode it.

Then we're going to see law suits regarding looting and police brutality. Screw that. Put the police on survivor rescue ops and bring in the marines and their M16s to handled the looters. Did you see there were dumbasses stealing electronics like TVs and such. God are you stupid. Do I need to count the ways that these people didn't deserve to live through this? Great idea, how about you go back to your semi-flooded home, fire up the generator and plug in the TV. Oh, no local channels...man that's surprising. Maybe you should swim up to the roof and hook up that DirectTV dish you swiped from the house that was floating by last night. What, no signal. Damn you knew at some point a polysyllabic vocabulary would come in handy. Words like longitude, latitude, and azimuth. "Damn...well, I can play this sweet Playstation I stole. Damn I'm good." (Insert electrocution sounds here)

Blame will be leveled. People from the President on down will take heat, and our court rooms will be filled with more frivolous law suits. Did I mention how much I hate people.