Saturday, March 22, 2008

Something to do.

I need something to do. I'm as bored as a Priest at a Girls' Choir practice.

It's not that I don't have things I should be doing. I don't want to to do those because they're not fun. So, I guess more specifically, I need something fun to do. The problem is there is a direct correlation between fun and incarceration. The better the ideas I have and more fun things tend to be for me, the longer the minimum mandatory sentencing guidelines are.

It's not that I'm trying to harm anyone or anything. It's just a distinct lack of any semblance of a sense of humor on the part of the government. Albeit true, I work for said government carefully dispensing anti-fun. That doesn't mean I don't appreciate the art.

To take a completely unrelated example, I present to you Murray Head.

Murray Head you ask? Yes, and stop giggling you ninny. You will recall Murray Head as the artist who provided us with the one-hit-wonder "One night in Bangkok". Again stop giggling at the word Bangkok. Apparently, the officials of Thailand were none too happy with this song. Let alone using it in any tourist board advertisments.

The intrigue gets deeper when you learn the song was written by former members of ABBA. Yes, the same band that was solely responsible for the Munich Massacre.

Speaking of Massacres, Kool-Aid is a brand of Kraft Foods Incorporated. That said, why do we spell Kool-Aid and Kraft with a K? To avoid the ambiguity of the oft-mispronouced C? No, I think not. In fact, K is a part of the larger Penguin Konspiracy.

By the way and For what it's worth....

There's something happening here. What it is ain't exactly clear. There's a man with a gun over there, telling me I got to beware. I think it's time we stop, children, what's that sound? Everybody look what's going down.

Speaking of going down,


Bill Clinton has disappeared from Hillary's campaign in the last few weeks. It's got to be killing him. I'm suprised that he's been able to do it. The guy didn't want to be President. He wanted to be the winning Presidential Candidate. Sure, he's a policy wonk, a teflon Don, and McDonald's poster child. Not because it was part of his ethos, but because that's what you wanted him to be. In fact, he's like a bad sci-fi movie. You created him from inner-scary-secrets. This phenom is documented in the original Ghostbusters.

Now that we're talking about Ghostbusters, we can skip Ray Parker Jr. and examine the oddity which we know to be Walter Peck. There is a distinct lack of documentation showing William Atherton and Kenneth Brannaghghghghghhhh er Branah.. Branagh ever having appeared at the same location.








By the way, Ron Jeremy was in Ghostbusters. It's true. On the Internet and everything.

See, I told you I need something to do. Maybe I'll make fun of the upcoming Olympics. In all seriousness though, I hope ABBA stays away.

Monday, March 17, 2008

My relationship with beer.

Beer.

Beer and I go way back. Sure we've had our tough times, but it's always seemed to be a relationship for the ages.

Of course, just like any other relationship, we have our fights. We get together most times though, and it's just fine. Right now though, beer and I aren't talking again.

It started out as a great night. Beer and I were having a great time. Then I did something really stupid. I tried to spice up my relationship with beer by introducing Beer to Vodka. Vodka and I haven't talked in years. Vodka and I were really close at one time but we had a REAAAAALLLLLLY bad break-up and hadn't talked since.

But, on that magic night of a St. Patty's Day Party, Vodka was there. Vodka was sitting in little cups, mixed with J E L L O. Beer and I were having a great time. I trusted Beer and Beer trusted me. I, like all stupid people, decided I would try for a three-some. (You know everyone wants to do it once.) Anyway, I went for it.

Beer, Vodka, and I got our groove on. It was a fantasy-happy. We all passed out together.

Suddenly, in a cold sweat I awoke. Vodka and Beer we're having a battle in my stomach and my head. Both made a run for the door, leaving me alone with my headache and an intense urge to die.

Beer and I haven't talked since. I'd like to think we'll get back together. I didn't need more than you, Beer. I'm sorry Beer. I'll never think I need anything but Beer....

...If you'd only let me drink you without an instant gag reflex once again.

Sunday, March 2, 2008

It's been about a year.

It's been about a year since I posted anything. Not that you noticed.

A lot can happen in a year. Your wife can leave you. Your friend can get cancer. You can believe that nothing is left to believe in.

That's what happened. Not that I want anyone to feel sorry for me. Certainly not. In fact, I'm not sure that I feel sorry for myself. I don't think I do. Rather, I believe I'm rather cold to the whole thing.

And while some my consider my plight rather intolerable; let us look at other people's lot.

Darfur: No one has systematically raped me nor lopped off my hands.

Iraq: I'm alive. I have the ability to write anything I want on this blog, yet I only do so when I get round to it.

China: Again, I can write or look at what I like without fear of being re-educated or executed.

Russia: While I can make jokes about the mismanagement or corruption of my government, I don't truly fear them. I have the ability to redress my greivences.

Afghanistan: I can enjoy my freedoms without fear of the next potential power. As much as I might dislike Obama, Clinton, or McCain - I do not have to fear retribution.

France: I'm not French. Enough said.

Yeah, I pay too much for gas, my dog is going to die, and my wife took me for everything I own. Sounds bad? In consideration of all it could be a lot worse. In fact, God be praised. All is well in my soul.