Movie classics.

Recently my friend Joe asked me to write a list of my favorite "classic" movie that I would suggest he see. That is a real tough one. I had to decide what I considered classic and what I considered just amused my own strange sensibilities. I decided that the dictionaries definition of the word was best, IE: "Classic: A work recognized as definitive in its field" that works for me so let us now talk fields. No let's not talk fields, that will stretch this into an all night write and an all day read. I will just tell you a few of my classic picks that I will watch every time they are on, some of these are simply clumped by actors by the way. Oh, I will also not venture into the 80's or beyond.

That said, first their are the Marx Brothers, if Groucho and Chico never made you laugh then you have either never seen them in action, or you are a very boring person and must stay away from me. Then absolutely anything with Cary Grant in it, the man was the embodiment of what a Hollywood acting legend should be, Philadelphia Story(1940), His Girl Friday (1940) and Arsenic and Old Lace (1944)top the list of Grant movies for me.

I am a big fan of Basil Rathbone and Nigel Planer in the Sherlock Holmes series for m the 40's and 50's. I consider these must sees if you are a Homes fan that is. The Lady Killers(1955), the remake was good but the original was messed up and had Sir Alec Guinness in it. On the subject of Sir Guinness, the movie Murder by Death (1976), which he is in as well, is one of the greatest comedies of all time. Okay one foray into the 80's, Clue (1985) is the grand child of murder by death and must also be seen.

Now if you have a Steve McQueen movie anywhere that to, you must watch. The Great Escape (1963) The Cincinnati Kid(1965) and of course the Magnificent Seven (1960) top my list there. Since I am on the subject of the Magnificent Seven I should also point out its grand father, the Seven Samurai(1954) the Akira Kurosawa master piece see that also.

Okay this will take forever like this so what I will do is compile a list decade by decade and when it is done I will put it up for your perusal okay? sounds good.

Damn you Joe, there is not enough hours in the day for this kind of mad typing.

Here this will be fun and this way everyone can understand the "One of us" chant my friend Marty and I do to people on the street. Google the movie Freaks(1932) and stare in awe of the scene where the guy with no arms and no legs sloshes towards a person with a knife clenched in his teeth.

Toilet paper pets.

I had a thought the other day. Some of my friends and I were discussing activists like the ones on that show Whale Wars or those people you see at Green Peace rallies. These people take saving animals to an extreme, placing themselves in the line of fire so they can save a creature or two. Standing on a dingy between a spear gun and a mammal that forgot to evolve, leave the ocean and buy a digital watch (Thank you Douglas Adams), chaining themselves to trees to save a habitat and, I am sure, we have all seen the anti-fur protesters outside of your local Macy's, picketing and releasing Patchouli fumes into our ozone. It is these anti-fur folks that I have the biggest problem with. Not because of their tactics or motives but the fact that they are avoiding the most obvious play on their activist chessboard. So listen hippies and listen well, I will only explain this to you once.
The plan is simple. Go into the forest, find an cute, fuzzy animal that you wish to keep safe and vested and wipe it slowly across your anus. Yes you read it write, unless you're dyslexic, place that beloved, woodland critter betwixt your scrawny, fetid cheeks and give it a good knuckle drag and twist.
What is the purpose? If you can't guess, it's pretty simple. No up and coming parvenu would be caught wearing the skin of beast that was repeatedly raked on ones rectum (damn near killed 'um. that one is for my friends). Instead these people would be forced to move on to a more feces free cloth. Faux, non-pooped on fur springs to mind. If you have ever been in your bathroom, cleaning it after a party and discovered a strange looking scrunchy of toilet paper that seems to have a brown streak evident on its surface, you will remember the level three Haz-Mat containment devices you broke out to deal with it. Now picture wrapping said TP wad around your neck and wearing it to the regatta.
So come on hippies, start snatching and wiping. Sure you may get bitten or scratched. Maybe you will catch the rabies. Really thought, isn't that a small price to pay for the safety of a species? I say no. Now the simple fact that I am not in league with the activists, I do not condone nor disapproves of their actions, you may wonder what stake I have in all this. It's simple really. Watching a bunch of hippies get mauled by wild animals they are trying to shove into their cracks would be really funny and the videos would sell more that Girls Gone Wild and Bum Fights combined.

Here is a slogan:

Dependence on fur will surely shrink, just wipe your ass with a mink.

Eleven lessons TV has taught me.

Someone recently told me that I watch too much television. They said it rots the brain and doesn't do anything for mental, or spiritual growth (hippies). I say that is untrue. Television can not only help you break free of social taboos but it can also expand your mind and teach you about tolerance. So I give you eleven things I have learned from various TV shows throughout my life.

1) Miami Vice taught me that Florida was a tolerant state being that an interracial, gay couple could become the top vice detectives in city laden with machismo and Glenn Frye music.

2) C.S.I. has taught me about the dangers of being a hot woman in any major city in the U.S. Now I know if any of my female friends go to Vegas, New York or Miami (again) they will be raped and killed within the first five minutes of their arrival if they are not prepared properly. Avoid poorly lit hotel rooms, alleyways and the desert, oh and pools after hours and you should survive.

3) I never learned anything from the show Growing Pains but, years later, when I discovered The Way of the Master, an evangelical website, hosted by Kirk Cameron (Mike Seaver), I learned that not all child stars turn to drugs, booze and sex and end up dieing young in a gutter but some of them should.

4) Syndicated television has taught me the importance of actual swear words when trying to act like a tough guy. "Yippie ki-yay Mister Falcon" and "Why don't you suck my donkey?" just don't cut it for me.

5) The media, with all it's biases and back and fourths, can still really come together as one and truly help out when a hot, white girl vanishes.

6) In the early years of television, most bathrooms did not have toilets. It was considered to be poor taste to show one on television. That is why I have a TV in my bathroom, as a subtle protest to the old ways. Also I poop a lot and hate missing Spongebob.

7) The British are way more relaxed than us when it comes to TV. In the 80's in America, it was thought to be pushing the envelope to say the word ass. At the same time in the U.K., you could regularly hear the words twat, assface, bitch, feck, arse and semprini.

8) There is always room for Jell-o and there is always room for naked jell-o wrestling as long as Bill Cosby has nothing to do with it. Just to cover this once more, since I have in other blogs. If I had stolen my dads car like Theo did in one episode of the Cosby Show, I would have gotten a hell of a lot worse than just grounded, flayed alive and fed to ants is more like it. Stupid nuclear family B.S.

9) Good beers are rarely advertised but ass beers are everywhere. What does that tell you about the tastes of the average American?

10) The show Lock-up Raw has finally helped even the playing field for suburban kids that want to be gangsta but don't know enough about prison slang to be accepted by real thugs. Plus, finally my shank making skills can improve.

11) Last of all, television has taught me that if I concentrate hard enough, if I stare long enough, if I strain my mind to it's breaking point, I can delete all thought from my head for at least a half an hour at a time. I can have a brief respite from the rage and evil that wells up within me when I have to face the stupidity of the average Gump on the street. Then I see a commercial for Oxi Clean or Disorono on ice and the monster is right back in my throat.

Thanks for watching.

Hey Mr. Deejay just stop already.

Just a quick thought that has I need to get out there. I work in a warehouse. About 98% of the people I work with are male. Absolutely all of them are old enough to be out of high school. At our work we are aloud to listen to the radio. Okay, that out of the way, let me tell you of my sorrow. These people tend to only listen to two radio stations. Either the Nu-metal, jock rock station or the local tweenie, hip-hop/ top forty station. Being that I walk around this warehouse about a million times a day, I have no choice in radio stations and, I am serious here, it is always the same stations every day. My questions, feel free to answer if you like.
Is Metallica really still that popular? That's a big one for me. I grew up listening to a lot of metal and in the mid to late eighties they were pretty good but after the massive sell out into Gapfaggery, aren't they just washed up? I was never happy with them and that damned Black Album but the song Unforgiven two, they can stick that right back up the horses ass they pulled it from. I love Kill Em All, Ride the Lightening and it's ilk but now they are just sad and way too popular. Dethklok rocks way harder than they do now and Dethklok is a cartoon. Sad, pathetic, pathetisad.
Now I come to Pink. Ah the perky minx, her hair all mussed and her moles now seemingly non-existent. Boy, she is popular so popular that apparently some damn radio stations feel the need to play her newest song "So What" about a jillion times a day and make a remix just to change it up a little. Look, Pink is hot. She seems like the insane girl you had a crush on in high school but never made a move on because you heard a story about her burning an ex-boyfriends penis with a cigarette. Now, I hate her songs but not as much as I hate certain other pop diva music but I am seriously wondering how many more times I can hear that song in the background of my work before I jump in front of a forklift. Plus, no Pink. you are not a rock star, you are a pop star. It's different, so stop trying to blur the lines. Not taht they aren't overly blurred as it is. The fact that grown, working class men feel the need to listen to this is dumbfounding to me.
okay, parting thoughts about radio play.
If you like Linkin' Park, go pick up an old 311 album, not that they were that good either but far more bearable.
If you like Metallica's new album, go but Master of Puppets it is a far superior album with no retarded ballads that do not belong in a metal album.
If you are an Offspring fan, go buy early Pennywise. That way you can listen to the sweet sounds of copy write infringement.
If you are a Disturbed Fan, go stick your head up the ass of a gassy babboon, the sound is clearer and more melodic.
If you are a fan of Kid Rock, go find something really high and jump off of it.
I just hadda say that.

Bye

On the topic of babies.

I decided I had to chime in on this subject. The other day I walked into the break room at work and witnessed a circle of men and women surrounding one of the guys from the warehouse, shaking his hand and congratulating him. I edged closer to see what the big deal was. A promotion? a new car? A firmer penis in just five weeks? No. none of them. The big deal that he was accepting the kudos for was simply this, his wife was pregnant. Upon making this discovery I quickly tried to excuse myself from the room, knowing that, if I did not escape, I would be confronted with the rosy shouldered sperm donor. I did not escape, instead I was moved toward this man. He looked at me, expecting me to express my awe at his accomplishment. "My wife's pregnant", he said sappily. "Really?", I replied, "I brought a hoagie for lunch". There was suddenly a silence in the room, the kind of silence that is almost loud. Then some glares and uncomfortable laughter and then I was out of the room. I thought I had escaped but I was wrong. Later that day I realized that I was getting sneared at by a few of the local clucking hen party. I asked a friend if he knew why and he told me that I was very rude about the pregnancy news. Okay, i do not feel I was rude and I make no apologies for what I said. The fact is that people have been having babies for a while now, actually since the dawn of man I would venture. Maybe nine months after the dawn of man anyway. In fact, next to breathing and pooping, making babies may be the next easiest thing for a person to do. I don't congratulate people on eating or drinking water, that is, unless they eat the worlds biggest sandwich, then I might be inspired to cheer for them. Pregnancy though, that takes no skill, no training of body or mind and no education. In fact, babies are usually formed from an accident and that accident usually involves alcohol. If you can do it drunk and it doesn't involve balancing, it is not deserving of a slap on the back. Now, I would congratulate the mother but not because she was pregnant but after she had the kid, that is impressive. Think of the biggest dump you've ever taken, multiply it by fifteen and imagine it had shoulders and screamed, that is impressive. But there is no way I am gonna congratulate the guy. He did the easiest job in the world and he wants to be recognized for it? Screw him, oh way to dunk that cookie in milk Edger, here's a cigar. Dumb. I think it is way more difficult to go through life and not have a baby. I congratulate my friends when they don't impregnate anyone or anything. I think I will start throwing a yearly party. a "Hey you didn't have a baby" shower. With adult beverages and no stupid footy pajamas, unless that is what the strippers choose to wear to the party.

If this isn't wrong, nothing is.

As you all know, we are about to switch Presidents. As per normal, when one President is about to leave office, he tends to pass as a few legislation's on his way out the door. Our current Pres. is no exception. Mr. Bush is trying to pass many, many little laws and legislation's before he gets the Presidential boot. Some of these are loosening restrictions on environmental and safety issues, which I consider bad hoodoo. Yet the worst thing, in my mind, (not to be mistaken for the actual "worst thing in my mind", which is sick and dark, like a chocolate bar mad of pure evil) is the Presidents power to elect people into certain offices. Alas a chair had recently opened on the National Arts Council and guess who Bush appointed, with the help of the Senate I might add. That's right kiddies, Lee (God Bless the USA) Greenwood. Yes, that Lee Greenwood, the butt monkey that actually sang that song at the Republican National Convention while wearing one of those, just super tacky American flag Leather jackets. Now, I am not opposed to people and their flag lusts but anyone, anywhere that puts on a flag, shirt, jacket, dress, or hat is a screaming douche in my book. I actually believe that the people that wear these items, wear them not out of patriotism but to avoid gay men. They know that any gay man worth his flames would not come within twenty feet of something that ostentatious ( note: I do not believe this applies to Hawaiian shirts). So now Lee Greenwood is going to be on the board that heads the NEA or the National Endowment for the Arts. The folks that help keep artist from completely starving, not that some of them shouldn't starve. I am a huge fan of starving, for instance, anyone that makes art from poop. Sorry, I retract that, if you can make a number two that truly conveys your emotions at that point in time, you should definitely get funding. Even more so if you can poop statues. God poop is funny. Lee Greenwood is not, however and now he has a say in who gets funding. Alright. can't wait to see the NASCAR commemorative Plate Museum or the Painting of dirty hick descending from his double wide.
I know I am being mean, music is an art form too right? Yes it is but so is a black and white photo of a young boy being sodomized by a pickle if its hanging up in the Guggenheim but that ain't art my friends, that's just a pervert getting away with it. That pretty much sets up how I feel about Lee Greenwood, just a pervert getting away with it. Come on he was just another two dollar whore until he jerked off the conservatives with that god awful song that is apparently meant to fill us all with pride in our country but just ends up making you feel like you ate a pie full of vomit. I guess if you toss a powerful enough salad it pays off in the end and old Lee's toungue will probably be numb until the new year from licking al the brown stamps in the White Hoes and the Senate. This all goes to show you. The rednecks are running the establishment. Really, I grew up around these people, they can't be trusted with matches or sexy animals. How can we trust them with the future of art?

A final point. It turns out that Lee was in rehab for a cocaine addiction in the early sixties. Wait, that was right around the time that George Bush Junior was getting into all his trouble with drugs too... and the puzzle pieces just fall into place don't they?

On to the Anti-Christ.

I have been hearing a lot of thingy about the Anti-Christ lately. You know, people saying that Obama is the Anti-Christ because he is a political figure, was unknown up until recently and was born in Hawaii. Apparently the AC is supposed to come from the water and I guess that implies Hawaii. Well, I decided to research this Anti-Christ business to help smooth it all out for you, my readers.

I began my research in the Bible. I was using a King James Bible because it is the most popular version in our country. Being that deciphering the Bible can be a mind numbing and tedious task, I grabbed myself a little glass of bourbon to help me relax. Two hours and a lot of bourbon later I was researching my television, face it, the Bible may be the greatest story ever told but it is really lacking in gunfights car chases and cleavage. I actually think that adding these very things to the Bible would dramatically increase church goership. The Ten Commandments was a pretty successful movie but if the Pharaoh had been played by Steve McQueen in a 1970 Boss 302. It would have been tha much better and instead of all those shawls and birkas, how about Rossario Dawson showing a little sweaty slave girl boobage? Maybe a velociraptor or two for dramatic tension. That could only make it better. Now I realize that is all far fetched but Hollywood can do some amazing CG stuff these days and, as I had been reading through all that wacky "Beast rising from the ocean" stuff, what I wrote didn't sound as far fetched at the time.

Now back to my research. Originally I was pretty sure that the Anti-Christ was Namor, the Sub-Mariner. After all he comes from the ocean and does have a lot of power, also he is reletively unknown, not like that flashy Aqua-man. Then I realized that he doesn't have any really powerful religious figure to help him control the world and the Anti-Christ needs that. I actually believe that his tag line "Sub-Mariner" either meens he is a gay bottom to a Navy navigator or, he delivers sandwiches in Atlantis for a living. It's hard to say, the Sub in Sub-Mariner could have several different definitions. One thing is for sure though, he donned the first faux-hawk.

More booze, more TV and suddenly I had a feeling that Higgins from Magnum P.I. was the Anti-Christ. He had his hell hounds, Zues and Apollo. A secret identity, Robin Masters. He lives in Hawaii, from the ocean. He rode in a flying demon, TC's chopper. It was all coming together. Then I realized that he also, did not have a strong religious leader to help him on his way to power.

I decide that I alone could not get to the bottom of this mystery so I gave up and ate an Ego in my hands, no plate, bourbon does that to a man. Then I fell asleep on the couch. Research done. Booze gone. Bible in the fireplace along with a stuffed Garfield window sticky and someones hat. God I love a good whiskey.

Finally back to basics.

So the election is finally over and, love the out come or hate it, at least I won't have to hear about how hot Sarah Palin is for a while. Seriously, being crowned Miss Wasilla is the equivalent of being crowned Miss Sever Burn Ward. That aside, I can finally get back to writing about things that are truly close to my heart. Therefor I give you...

Joe Bjorklunds favorite Poop and fart references as well as my favorite dirty joke punchlines.

Please try to hold your applause until the end of the world as we know it.


Farting in public, for some odd reason, can be very embarassing to some people. I am not one to be embarassed by my butt gasses, however, I find being suave after letting one rip is kind of difficult. One way to save face and look like a hero in the eyes of lesser mortals is, after letting a loud one depart from betwixt flexxed cheeks, is to say "Whoa, theres the whistle, better get the luggage to the depot before the train gets in". This of course implies that you are sufferring from feces farts and must poop soon lest the gas become unbearable. This is a good tactic because it brings farting and talking about your bowel movement in public. This racks up the social taboo points and makes you look pretty cool, even to the most anti- poop conservative. Other good phrases to use in this situation are " There's the starting gun and Turtlehead is infront by a nose". You could also go with " The French horn is signaling the start of my first movement", this is to be used in very posh situations, obviously.

I was down here all night eating hot buttered corn. One of my favorite dirty joke punchlines. The joke in and of itself is not so good but the punchline has a certain special something.

Now back to poop.

If you have ever been attacked by one of those people that can't stop showing people pictures of their damned offspring, you know the guy or girl. They lurk around at your job, waiting for people to mention children and God help you once you do. A flip book of fat, ugly and bewildered by the camera flash children is suddenly forced upon you and since killing this person with a mallet and a well placed Snickers bar is illegal and will not only cost you your jobs but, send you off to the slammer where a convict named Big Meaty McAssrammer will tell you some of his favorite anecdotes about sodomy, you choose to drop the candy bar, take a deep breath and regret ever being born. Well, now there is a way out. Go home, sit down and begin consuming fiber like there was no tomorrow. After the fifth bag of oats you devour, go drink yourself a huge bucket of prune juice. Then wait. When nature takes its horrible sphincter ripping course, don't flush the by product of your intestines battle with wicker, instead, get some photos. Lots of photos, take a picture of your massive poo in the bathtub, get some shots in a crib, hell get a picture or two of you colon sculpture kissing grandma. The point is get pictures. Then all you have to do is place them in your wallet and wait. Wait until that asshat brings up his kiddie pics and then, break out yours. If the horror of seeing a giant bowel movement taking a bubble bath doesn't end their constant annoyances, I am confident that the picture labeled "Babies first spagetti dinner", will fix them and how.

Well, i was gonna tel more punchlines but I am tired and thinking about getting some vacation snaps of a turd in a onesie. So, good night gentle readers.

Am I twisted or do I just see the big picture too well?

I ask the header question after watching the third Presidential debate. Obama and McCain bounced over their regular talking points and argued their points. McCain tried to attack Obama but seemed to strike with the accuracy and deftness of an elderly pit viper, that has lost its sensitivity to vibration and just cant seem to sense differentials in temperature as well as he once could, also, he has a partially paralyzed left snake muscle (note: I never claimed to be a snake biologist) and Obama was, well Obama. The guy was top of his class at Harvard and a trial lawyer to boot, not the best person to have to argue against. I was not impressed by either candidate, hell, I dislike both sides of the major political coin anyway. I was relatively bored throughout. Then, towards the end, something caught my mind. It was when the candidates were talking about education. A subject near and dear to my heart because of my seething hatred for the ignorant in our world. What was it? it was when McCain said this...

"We need to encourage programs such as Teach for America and Troops to Teachers where people, after having served in the military, can go right to teaching and not have to take these examinations which -- or have the certification that some are required in some states"

Examinations? Certifications? I don't know bout you but, if I had kids, I would want them to have a certified teacher that can pass an exam or two. That is not what bugs my though. What got to me was the thing about sending people right from the military to teach without exams or certifications. I checked up on Troops to Teachers and, sure enough, they even want some certification to be a teacher, well, they want this...

Who May Apply: (specifically) Former members of the U.S. Armed Forces, including members of the Armed Forces Reserves may apply. Applicants must apply to the Defense Activities for Non-Traditional Education Support (DANTES) for assistance. Applicants aspiring to be an elementary or secondary school teacher must have a baccalaureate or advanced degree and:

• Have retired from active duty;
• Will retire within one year of application;
• Have been transferred to the ready reserve;
• Have been released from active duty after six or more years of active duty immediately before separation;
• Have completed at least 10 years of active duty;
• Have executed a reserve commitment agreement for not less than three years;
• Have been retired or separated due to physical disability;
• Have been involuntarily discharged or released from active duty due to a reduction in force between Oct. 1, 1990 and Sept. 30, 1999; or
• Have applied and qualified under the previous Troops-to-Teachers program statute (10 U.S.C. 1151).

Now this, I have no problem with. I had teachers that were ex military and they weren't all half bad. They new the subject they were trying to teach and the had the credentials and ability to teach it. Sure some of them were gung ho about getting us to sign up right out of school but most of them were alright. Then I thought back to my junior year of high school. I was in my Social Studies class when two Marine Drill instructors walked into the room. They sat for an hour telling us why we should join up and, they had an RV outside to collect preregistration info. That is the same year that our economics class had us take a non-voluntary ASVAB test (Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery). This didn't bother me at the time, I was just a stupid kid but now that I am older and so much more cynical, it bugs the hell out of me. I have felt, for a good chunk of years now, that our government is trying to form a true, military police state. So this is what I heard in last nights argument.

First, calling Obama "Pro-abortion) that is a buzz word kind of deal used to rile up his religious zealot base. Fine, I can understand being against abortions and, when I look at most of the kids around me as I go grocery shopping, I can understand being pro-choice. Hell I think we should be able to abort certain adults if they don't stop having stupid children. The fact is the McCain wants more babies out there and he doesn't care if having the kid will kill the mom, baby first, mom second.

Next was the education issue. Why is education of such low importance to our government? Most of my teachers were atrociously ignorant and slow witted when I was growing up but apparently now, they are far worse. For decades or education systems funding has been eaten away by things the government has deemed more important and I am not just saying Republican government, it has been both sides of the isle here. Shouldn't teaching children how not to be completely ignorant be a top priority? I guess not.

Then you have all the medical garbage flying about, well, we know it would be near impossible to socialize medicine in America but, we also know that no one is trying to control costs in a market that is running rampant. One thing us poor folk do have on our side is the Hippocratic Oath. That is a help everyone or lose you license kind of thing. The scariest thing about McCains privatization of the medical industry idea is that it would throw that oath out the window and turn your pre-existing condition into the the medical equivalent of having really bad credit. Sure, you can drive or fly to another state for care but that is gonna cost you a hell of a lot more than five grand. Plus, I pay enough taxes as it is I don't need my insurance taxed as well.

Now, this is where I stretch it all apart and smush it into my point. What happens in a world full of poorly educated, babies that are worried about their future health? They join the military. It becomes really easy to assimilate kids when they grow up with teachers that talk about their service all the time. especially if those teachers don't really have the credentials to teach anything other than Phys-Ed. Sure, maybe I am reaching but, with all the other crap going on in our government, all the shady deals and over the top, secret "spy on your own people" kinda crap. I feel that reaching a little is fair. Maybe, if a few people caught it in time, Mussolini, Hitler, Stalin (even though, Stalin came in pretty well set up) could have been stopped just short of their little plans for world domination to really kick off and get a lot of innocent people killed.

I know, not as funny as usual but I think, if I ever win the lottery and move to the South of France like I would like to. Then the American police state comes to fruition. Then I will feel that this is much funnier, to me at least.

Damn you WE network

It was 2:30 AM and I was up, couldn't sleep, lazily flipping through the channel guide on my tv when something caught my eye. A show called "Transgender women in prison". I thought that sounded like a winner, figuring, since it was on that late it was probably one of those poorly acted and edited, soft core pornos that used to be run on "USA: Up all night" back in the late 80's. Regretfully, I did not take notice of the channel on which this movie was being broadcast. It was not on USA, Spike, The CW, TNT or even Telemundo. No, it was on the Womens Entertainment network and, also to my chagrin, it wasn't even a movie but a documentary about the lives of transgender inmates. How appauling. Here I am, bored out of my mind at 2:30 in the morning, thinking I have scored a late night BDSM flick that has been edited for content, which makes them, oh so funny, yet, there I was, faced with the horrors of a chickumentary that was like watching an episode of "Lock up, Raw" but everyone in it hated their birth genitals. Granted, when I realized the ow humor value of the show, I moved on. I would have taried a while if, say, a mustachioed gaurd holding a fire hose, would have, at any time walked up to a cell and said, "shower time ladies, get those uniforms off", then he licks his lips as if drooling. I am not kidding, that scene is in every movie of the "in prison/ in chains" genre. That is one of the things that makes them so beautiful to watch. So I will just say, I was saddened and disappointed, so I went back to the menu and reactivated my thumbs search for anything to relieve my ennui. Suddenly something else caught my eye and it looked like a winner. "Confessions of a go go dancer". "Hooray" I though, this one had to be a video nasty, with all the nasty spliced out. I immediately highlighted the selection, pressing the enter button, hand trembling in anticipation of getting to see a woman, strung out on cocaine and her ever budding hatred for the male gender as she grings her hips and breast on the body of a woman that she only ever thought of as a friend, until the night her no good, drunk, abusive boyfriend smacked her up a bit and left her crying on the couch, the slightest drip of blood on her quivering lip. Seriously, you gotta watch these movies, it is always like that. Well, the channel comes on and what do I get? Some "more than just friends" girl on girl dancing? No. How about a scene where a bad ex boyfriend gets hit by his ex girlfriend who stole his car out of the garage? Nope. Anything good and sexually and mentally degrading in any way? No. What I did get was a show about a girl that became a go go dancer to pay the bills and then her life went down the toilet and she went to therapy to figure it all out and blah, blah, blah. Boring. I went back to the channel guide and low and behold, I was on the Oxygen network.

So, in conclussion of this story I would just like to say this. Damn you womens entertainment networks of the world. Your misleading titles are ruining television for the surly, latenight viewer with an eye for the depraved, class C movie. Is it funny to you? Some kind of joke? You are ruining the lives of men and women everywhere that can't abide soft core movies unless they have been hacked to bits by an editor with one eye and Parkinsons disease. I know everyone loves when a woman is ripped out of her prison jump suit, hit in the face with delousing powder as three female guard approach her and they say something to the effect of " Let's get you cleaned up and, all of a sudden, there is a horrible jump cut and the same inmate is crying in her cell, the only evidence of any mistreatment is the utter lack of lice. These are the moment fans of crappy movies live for and you had to go and ruin them womens entertainment networks. Well I say damn you, damn you, damn you, damn you all to Hell.

Just had to get that off my chest.

Oh yeah, that's another one. When the sexy lady warden says to the hot prison yard snitch, " Is there something you want to get off your chest?" then she touches the snitches shoulder and rubs her tits, or twirls the snitches hair. If the warden is a man, he will usually smell her hair and the snitch will look down at the ground, to timid to say anything.

'Til death do us part?

So I have recently been besieged by people wondering when I am gonna get married. I just want to put this out there for everyone. Why is it so damn important to get marriaged? Maybe I am weird, in fact, I can damn well guarantee that I am but I am very good at seeing perspectives and ideals of other people, yet this marriage thing, the older I get, the less I get it. Sure when I was nineteen, living in a small town and worried that I would never find love as pure as the psycho hell bitch I was with at the time, I thought marriage was a good idea. Get hitched, pop out a couple a brats, accidentally shoot myself in the throat while while watching Austrian mongoose porn and masturbating with a handgun to my face, you know, the small town American dream. Now, many years later I find it absurd. Why get married? Is it a religious thing? I have read the bible, a few of them and I gotta say that there is no real definitive "get married or else" clause that I can find. It says a lot about not being an adulterer but, since adultery is for the married, the unmarried can't really commit it. Not a loop hole the pro marriage folks like to dwell on. The bible does say this though and I just like to write it out for you.

"You have heard that the law of Moses says, 'Do not commit adultery.' But I say, anyone who even looks at a woman with lust in his eye has already committed adultery with her in his heart. So if your eye , even if it is your good eye, causes you to lust, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. And if your hand, even if it is your stronger hand, causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell.

Thank you King James Bible for that image. I always wondered why there were all those eyes and hands laying in the parking lot of my local, neighborhood strip club. So if it isn't purely religious, how about political? The government seems to be pretty keen on all of us finding our one and only and staying with that person, even after we decide that we hate the very flesh their blood ozzes through like bile through a cold sieve, just because we don't want to lose half our stuff. Really though, it seems that the government boosts marriage for another reason, taxes and children. If you are single and owe someone money, dieing pretty much stops that in its tracks, sure the people you once owed can harass your kin folk but good luck squeezing a dime out of them. Yet a spouse, they can be squeezed nasty, anaconda on the scrotum style. If you once owed, they will pay what you owed. Nothing like getting a bill for grieving. Then You have children. Apperantly being married makes it more likely that you will have kids. I don't know who came up with that idea but I can say, with tempered certainty, that they have never been to a McD's in North East Minneapolis around wellfare check day. Eight thousand screaming children and two women, both on cell phones, both ignoring said kids and, of course, talking to eachother via said phones. Get a recruiter in there today and you have your Army of tomorrow, all with out one single diamond band or " I take thee".

Which comes to another of the many things that bug me about marriage...weddings. What a waste of money, resources and time these things are. An average wedding costs about ten thousand bucks in this country, so for every Justice of the Piece wedding that costs about a grand max. There are weddings that are getting up to the hundreds of thousands of dollars. Wow, that much money to prove that you love someone, I always thought the bast way to show someone that you care was to not eviscerate them with a sharpened Weeble-Wobble but I guess to each their own. And forbid that you get a religious wedding, you have to rent a tux, a church, a limo and a priest. That's another strange thing about weddings, you rent a church for them. If the church feels that marriage is so important, why don't they do all that crap for free? Also, if adultery is so wrong, why do bridesmaids always show so much more cleavage than the brides? It's like saying to the poor groom," Look at all these tits, they are forbidden now, you will be with the tits that hide 'neith the lacy death throw, forever" (insert evil, Vincent Priceian laugh here)

So why is marriage so important to people? I guess it is this simple. For hundreds of years it has been beaten into our heads that we need to live life like everyone else has since the dawn of history. Well I say, screw those guys, they're dead, I am not, yet. So see how all that worked out for them. Suckers.

Oh yeah, in answer to when I am getting married, I say PPPffffffftttttttt!

Ha ha, it is to laugh.

I am so sorry that I have had so much political commentary on this blog lately but when it is so ripe, you just gotta pluck it. If you have never seen this video it is a riot. Sarah Palin and her pastor, he is praying for her to be protected from witches. It is super ridiculous. Call Buffy, Call Macbeth, call Ulleses. There are witches about you best be careful or they will hug your trees and say "blessed be", to your neighbors. So funny.

The Stupidening. An addition.

I bet you know that I hate stupid people. Hell, that sentence was enough to give it away. Sadly, idiots abound on this planet in herds far greater than even the once mighty North American Bison. Unlike our friend the Bison, however, there are no tribesmen gathering together on horseback and forcing idiots off of cliffs in droves. That saddens me further.
As you all have guessed, our country is in the midst of an election for President and this is were the story I am trying to get to comes from. You see, the Republicans nominee for Vice President is a woman named Sarah Palin. She has very little credentials as a candidate, which doesn't bother me too much, credentials, cresmentials as I see it, a person with very few credentials can, sometimes, do the job better than someone who has been doing it for too long and has lost their edge. To clarify, from a personal side of this, I do not like Sarah Palin, I have not met her but I have known enough needy, manipulative, high maintenance women in my life to be able to identify one once I get a sight line on her and I would bet bottom dollar that she is one. Being a dformer beauty pagent contestant doesn't help in this area either. But I digress, I am off track, so back to the story. It goes like this.

I am in line at Cub foods, waiting to make a purchase. There are two middle aged women in front of me, also waiting in line. They are discussing politics. One of them said this.

You must imagine this in the voice it was used, Minnesotan, nasal talk, almost like Fargo but not as over exagerated. Actually, come to think of it, they sounded like Sarah Palin.

" Oh, I tell you, I like that Sarah Palin, she is very well dressed and just sharp as a tack. She doesn't even get angry at all the sexist remarks from that other guy."

To which the other replied.

" Yah I like her too You know that she raised five kids and one of them has mental problems. If you can raise a family that size being the Vice President would be easy. She's got my vote fer sure."

Ladies and gents, as much as I'd like this to be a joke, it is not. I heard it, right there, in the check out line under the eyes of Britney, Angelina, Oprah and Nostredamus. As I pondered the irony of beating these women with a rolled up Oprah magazine, I realized that these were the voters I had been hearing about so much recently. The dumb vote, the idiot vote, the imbecile vote, call it what you will. it is the vote that comes from that portion of our society that wants its voice heard but that is the voice that calls out for the most retarded crap.

I kid you not, that is a real conversation and those were real, uninformed voters. Hell, if that was what it took to be Vice President my mom should have been elected some time ago. She not only raised six children and one of them was me, a child that could considered the "unbreakable" sticker on a Tonka truck to be a personal taunt and challenge from the good people at the Mound Metalcraft Company. The woman should get a medal for that and a cabinet post to boot.

There is a reason I don't go out and mingle that much anymore. I tend to stay at home a lot, watch Survivorman and think about how nice it must be to live like Les Stroud does for seven days. No one around but himself and the opportunity for a lonely yet, highly youtubeable death at the hands of an angry marmosset. It must be so nice to just get away and not hear idiots talk for a few days. That is why my vote will go to the first candidate that comes up with an airtight plan to make it a criminal act for stupid people to breed.

Viva Castration! Bye.

Oil for stupidity.

If you ever read this site you probably know I have a lot of problems with hypocrisy and stupidity. The greatest examples of these problems tend to come from the governmental and religious sectors of our planet. So many things about those areas irk me. Things like electing public officials because of their strong religious leanings, even though we are supposed to separate church and state in this country. Having pious people, who believe that scientific advancement is a tool of the devil, in charge of our military arsenal. What has recently began to chap my cheeks recently is this. A majority of our elected officials in D.C. are members of the United Methodist Church. Many of these same people are investors in large oil and power concerns. United Methodists are, for the most part, Short Earthers, who tend to not believe in dinosaurs or a billion year old planet. Now, this is a wishy washy argument but some believe that dinosaur bones are a trick from the devil to test man kinds faith, others believe they are there as a trick from God to test man kinds faith, either way it's a dick move on both parts. But do you see the problem here? Oil comes from millions of years of decomposition of organic material. Several of the coal and oil men have made billions from this organic material. That's right, billions of dollars off of a geological event that they don't even believe occurred. Damn that pisses me off. Using the devils/ Gods test to make billions, isn't that some kind of sin. I am no bible scholar but I would expect that to not sit right on some side of the heaven vs. Hell hierarchy. Do you think they even thought this through? "Hey Bobby Jean, the Earth is spewing forth some useful, yet sinful dark liquid. Shall I seek the path of righteousness and cover the sin hole? Ah screw it let's get rich for a while and see if we can buy our way into Heaven." That is what I figure was the first pious Pete conversation about oil. Conveniently, for old Pete, in most major religions, you can now tithe, IE., buy your way into Heaven. So I guess that worked out for some of them. The rich ones. If you own an oil company you can sin way more than if you just work in a rig, then you can only afford to be a little sinny. Okay, this is a rant but I think you get the idea. If you do not believe that the Earth is absolutely ancient but you use any oil based product, you are using something that, in your mind, does not exist. If this is a religious belief, then, on some level, you are a sinner and a hypocrite. Sinners I am used to and friends with, hypocrites are another story and I hate them and do not care if they are ground into organic matter, left to rot for a million years and used to heat my house, screw 'em.

In my research fo rthis rant, I found this quote from a Pastor Bob Weeks, of the New Creation United Methodist Church. He was asked:" Why can't we, as Christians believe in Dinosaurs?

His answer: " About dinosaurs. Many Christians DO believe dinosaurs once inhabited the earth. I personally believe that science has done more to make my faith stronger, especially as we look out into an incredible, complex universe that gives evidence of a master designer. I believe it takes more faith to not believe in God when we see the amazing creation around us"

Pretty week answer there Weeks. In fact, that is down right crap and has nothing to do with dinosaurs or anything really.

This is why I avoid the South.

The lunatics now officially own the asylum

I am sorry , dear readers, to bring up the RNC again but it's really on my tits and driving me batty. Our current government irritates me to a level of here to fore, unimaginable chaffing. Not the dish type of chaffing but the, rubbing wet skin against other wet skin kind of chaffing. When I heard that upwards of six thousand police and security would be on hand for the RNC in St. Paul this year, two things went through my head. The first was the song "Police State' by Agnostic Front and the second was "Wow, this is gonna be ugly and stupid". Now, on the second day of the convention, I realize that I am right. It is bad, stupid and very, very, police statey. Amy Goodman was arrested for "interfering with a peace officer" . If you do not know of Amy Goodman, she is a writer and investigative journalist and former news director of Pacifica Radio in New York. She was arrested in St. Paul while still wearing her press passes to the RNC and, word has it, treated rather physically by the fuzz. That is a very sad part of the story, partially because, even though the press pisses me off on a regular basis, their freedom is part of our constitution and also, even though she has been through a lot of turmoil in her reporting career I am sure, I could probably tear Amy Goodman apart like a wookie that lost at space chess. She is not an imposing mountain of angry bull dyke after fourteen years on a prison barge with no company other than fat, flatulent man mounds. She is a fifty one year old journalist that hapens not to agree with the sixth reich of Reaganism that is currently in power. I just wanted to rant, because, as a writer of things that bug me, i wish to keep the freedom to write about them sacred
. Here let me leave you with a Bush quote, I believe it was March 22nd 2006

" I mean, the minute we start trying to suppress our press, we look like the Taliban."

Hey, I know who you are gonna be for Halloween, Osama Bin Login' . Sorry, that's a Northern Minnesota joke.

Did I ever tell you guys how much I hate stupid people?

Good night and good luck.

On the topic of protests

I was recently invited, by a friend of mine, to protest the Republican National Convention in St. Paul. Yes this is the same convention that claims the protesters are anarchists and not protesters, like I wrote in my last online piss fest. I will not take my friend up on this offer to protest, not because I like the good old boys and their fat old club but, well for one, I do not believe that protesting really works in numbers smaller than twelve million and second, if I am in, or near a crowd during a riot, protest, concert, what have you, I become a target for security and cops. Not to arrest but to sometimes harass and test pepper spray on. I guess I do feel that this country is heading down a slippery slope toward creepy third world status but I also feel that spending three hours in the shower washing my skin with whole milk is really not gonna change the face of politics in America. For those of you that do not know, whole milk can be very soothing on the skin if you have recently been maced. Just a helpful hint for any of you, would be, criminals.

I do have to admit that I do love a good riot, not so much being involved but more or less, watching from the side lines. I have seen a few good ones in my years on this planet but, if you are not above or well outside of the action, you do face the threat of blow back landing on your shoulders, even though you are simply observing. Case in point. I travel back in my mind to a anti-fur rally near downtown Minneapolis. A couple of my friends along with myself and several adult beverages, decided we should go watch the commotion and craziness. Apparently some of the protesters were placing tungsten bike locks around their necks and locking them to the stair railing outside of a fur supplier downtown. We could not miss this. Not only was there the opportunity to witness and accidental strangulation but when the cops came to cut those locks off with the diamond edged blade a possible decapitation or evisceration was on the books to boot. Anyway, we got downtown and I decided to wander near the mess of crazy people that hate it when other people wear dead animal flesh, even though the animal is done with it. So there I was about a half a block away from the edge of the crowd, just being drunk and enjoying sitting and laughing at the people I felt were below me because I was not crying over my leather boots. As I sat and giggled at misspellings on signs, a fight broke out in front of me. I did nothing I simply sat and watched it happen and smiled my drunken smile. Suddenly two of MPD's finest show up and pull the fighters apart, they quell the situation, survey the area and...pepper spray me. FWITT right in the face, no rhyme, no reason just spray the guy that is watching and not joining in. I could not have even been mistaken for a hippie. Shaved head, black boots, white t-shirt. Not a hippie! Just pepper sprayed for being me.

There was no follow up after the spray hit me, I was not arrested for loitering and I was not offered a "sorry man" I just laid back and clawed at my eyes for a few minutes. Then I went home and had some whiskey. That is just one experience I have had like that but there are others and that is why I do not go to protests. That and I hate the stank 'O' hippies.

Yay, I am pissed off again.

Sorry dear readers. I know I have been slacking in my rants as of late, not much to write about really. Brett Favre is over done. Our President is a moron. John McCain is insane and losing it more each day. Barrack Obama is okay in my book as far as politicians go. And as far as life goes, I work so much that I don't have a lot of time to be pissed off. That is, until today. I thought the high point of the Republican National Convention coming to Minnesota was when I explained to a "Young Republican" uber conservative Christian, that him, having tickets to the Rage Against the Machine concert, was probably the most explicit example of music to person irony that I could think of off the top of my head.

Then I turned on the T.V. and the world was fun again.

The local Fox channel was airing the local news. They were discussing security or something for the upcoming RNC thing in St. Paul and the assholes at Fox news were spewing the average amount of mouth dookie that they tend to spew about our living rooms when we accidentally flip them on as we search the airwaves for Survivorman. Usually I pay them no mind and make them go away but this time was different. They said a word that caught my attention. The word was "Anarchists".

Let me clarify the story. Apparently there are protesters planning to block bridges and motor ways to the convention. Form human blockades, sit ins, all the things peace lovin' hippies do when confronted with the international war machine that is the RNC. These people are normal, average, every day people that know that our country is getting screwed and they know who is doing most of the screwing. It's the right wing, conservative Christians that are taking America in the corn shoot sans lube and these people just want to show them a bad time. Seems fair to me, more power to ya, you dirty hippies. Dirty hippies that Fox news has decided to call anarchists.

Here is the anger point for me. Three months ago, while diddling away some time trying very hard not to do anything that seemed like moving. I left my remote across the room and was forced to deal with two hours of the actual Fox News channel. It was horrible. You know that feeling you get when someone is lying to your face and you know it but they get that smug look because they think you are oblivious to the fact that they are lying? That is what it was like, for two hours. Toward the end of the second hour I became furious and had to actually flop out of my chair and change the channel. Why was I so mad? Because I witnessed that beginnings of another witch hunt. This one would be different though, it was not gonna be like the Salem debacle but more ike that whole,"Who's a Commie Pinko thing from several decades back. But this time the red threat is not what we should fear but instead, anarchists. In two hours the word "anarchists" was spouted more times than it was written on Sex Pistols fans' jackets in the 80's. It crept up on me and made me realize that this was a new threat to freedom. a word. You see a protester is just a person that is against something and wants to make their grievance public. Anarchist however. That is much worse. First off, it is not unlike anti-Christ in the way it is spoken, It becomes very easy to demonize and twist in that simple sense. Then you add the connections the word was given with the occult and the militias over the last three decades and you get a pretty scary buzz word. That buzz word is some seriously bad hoodoo my friends. People that don't agree with the regime that is in place will become "Anarchists" and the government and news organizations will twist and bend that word every way they can until people are being jailed or losing their property for being "anarchists".

Anarchy:

1.	a state of society without government or law.

2.	political and social disorder due to the absence of governmental control: The death of the king was followed by a year of anarchy.

3.	a theory that regards the absence of all direct or coercive government as a political ideal and that proposes the cooperative and voluntary association of individuals and groups as the principal mode of organized society.

4.	confusion; chaos; disorder: Intellectual and moral anarchy followed his loss of faith.

I should add a fifth definition here

5. Not protesters, different from them.

The media and the government are calling you morons America. They will use your ignorance to crush you. Now call your local news and media outlet and let them have it you anarchic, separatist, fat bottomed, black eyed maniacs. Don't let stupidity eat us.

I love whiskey and getting pissed off. Thank you Fox news pricks.

On the subject of me.

I am always happy to get an e-mail from someone that I do not know and the person is curious about me. I recently received just such an e-mail. It comes from Alli in New York. She did not clarify if that was City or State but I will just pretend it is City.

Alli wrote: Mr. B ( you can see why I think it is NYC, she called me Mr. B, how East Coast is that?)
I recently came across your blog and got hooked. You seem to be an odd person, an angry person and a somewhat heartless person in short... you remind me of several of the people I grew up with. That being said, I have a few questions for you. Were you abused as a child, hit alot? What trauma did you go through to become so jaded? I just want to know what makes you tick. Also you say that you are from MN but seem more like a person from my side of the country.

Well Alli, I don't often open up about my childhood but, since you asked, here goes. First off, let me just say that I was never abused as a child. I was hit, yes, and spanked, yes but that was not abuse. That was my parents trying to prevent the creation of a super villain. I am serious there by the way. There is something about my family bloodline that makes us, if we don't like you, not give one damn about you or your offspring. I think it's a Scandinavian thing. Therefore it is very important to instill a deep respect for pain in some children as soon as possible, I was one of those children. That respect for pain doesn't come through regular, severe beatings but sometimes you have to jog a kids brain to make him see things clearly. Now I am not heartless, I will help people out if they are polite about asking I just despise stupidity, rudeness and ignorance and will not piss a fire out on someone I find to hold these attributes to their breast. Okay, maybe if they are really hot, then I give them a bit more lea way. I am a human male after all. SO, why am I so jaded? I really don't feel that I am. I am not jaded, nor a cynic, I am a realist. I look at a situation or a person and I try to see what is beneath what they are saying or doing to find the real purpose or intention. It is a survival tactic in Minnesota, where what people are saying and what they mean are almost always opposing or off track. When you realize that almost 80% of everything people said to you growing up was a lie, it really opens your eyes as long as you are smart enough to get around the initial shock of being lied to throughout your childhood. I like it when people try to lie to my face now, it's like a game to pull the truth out of them but, since my parents did a good job of quelling my evil, childhood urges, I pull the truth out with my intellect and not a red hot set of salad tongs. That is not to say I don't sometimes want to use the tongs, I just know better. As for what makes me tick, I really don't know, it's little things, classic cars and classic cartoons. A really good pastrami on rye with hot mustard. I nice pale ale, Scotch Whiskey. A pickle in my Bloody Mary instead of olives. And, of course, the idiots I share this planet with. If it was not for them I would not be so angry and would have nothing to write about. Oh, did I mention beer and whiskey? Oh I did well just to verify. Beer and whiskey. Thanks for the letter Alli.

Okay, I gotta talk here!

You might know that I am a Green Bay Packers fan, yes indeedy. Every Sunday and some varying Mondays and Thursdays, also occasional Thanksgiving Days. I don my beloved 66 Ray Nitschke jersey and root for the Pack. I also usually get retarded drunk but that is another story. The end of last season was a gut wrencher for me. The bad pass that was picked off, ending the Packers inconceivable run toward the Super Bowl hurt. Then old faithful himself, Brett Favre calls it quits and tells the world he is retiring. It was a crappy way to end a heart breaker season.
That being said, you may also know that I am a rabid news fan. I really have a sick obsession with world news, politics, current events, what have you. I just enjoy it.
So what's my beef today and why do I bring up Brett Favre, the Packers and world news? Well, I'll tell you. As if you thought I wouldn't.

In the last couple of weeks it has become apparent that Brett Favre wants to play football again. At 38 years old, he still feels that he has a couple more throws in him. Now the fact that he has retired brings up many questions about what the Packers organization should do. GM Ted Thompson, a man that I and several of my fellow Cheeseheads Feel less that friendly toward, wants Brett to stay retired to "preserve his legacy". It could be understandable that the legacy of a man that played for sixteen seasons in this age of constant trades and money hungry players and agents, should be protected but the fact is that no matter what happens for Favre from this point on, his Green Bay legacy will remain intact. The more appropriate comment from Ted should have been " I want Favre gone so I can prove my legacy". Favres backup for the last three years, being Aaron Rodgers . Thompson's first major pick for the Pack and the slide rule by which he will be measured over and above all his other, rather impressive acquisitions. Brady Poppinga, A.J. Hawk, Donald Lee. Yet he will live or die by Rodgers. There is a lot of behind the scenes back an forth in the land of cheese and has been since the beginning of the Thompson era and a lot of vets were let go when Ted got to work. It seems to many people I have talked to that I young team is being built on the foundation laid by the veterans, passing the old guard to the new. That's fine, it's the way it's usually done in most sports but this time it seems different. People yammer about how Favre has been waffling about retiring for the last three years. Gee, you mean around the time that Thompson took over as GM ousting Mike Sherman? No one ever mentions the possibility that Favre might have been placed under pressure to retire by a GM that really wants to show that he is more than just the guy that picked Shaun Alexander. I never hear anyone talking about the big picture just what they see on ESPN.
But you know what bugs me the most? The fact that, in an election year, people are more wrapped up in ridiculous sports melodrama than worrying about the future of our country. Brett Favre's "waffling" pisses people off, yet they totally disregard John McCain's constant flipity flopping on policies, his bald faced lies and his pandering of the politics of our current President. People also seem to miss the fact that our country is being slammed into the poorhouse by Washington and its filthy ilk. As all houses of government in both major parties, twist and spin around laws and the Bill of Rights. Look at a sports blog and then compare to some news blogs and tell me I am way off on this. Look, it's okay for an athlete to flip flop, who cares, he thought he was done, burnt out. Any one of us would feel the same way in his shoes. He loves the game and wants to play. So what, let him. Now politicians are a different story. If you hold a stance and then shift it, People are most likely gonna get killed. I am just pointing out that there are bigger stories out there people and maybe you should pay attention to them while we still have the freedom to gather together at a public stadium and watch football.

By the way, if Favre does get released and Rodgers doesn't put out, that will be the end of the Thompson tenure at Lambeau. You heard it here first baby.

On the Subject of Phil Gramm.

A little late for this perhaps but I felt I must chime in on Phil Gramm's recent comment about us being a "nation of whiners". From a purely economic stand point and from the point of view of a person that has probably never even seen first hand poverty, he probably thinks we are whining. Look at Bush and Chaney, and that ilk and you don't see a lot of people that ever really had to worry about where their next meal was gonna come from or when their house would be taken away from them. So, to Gramm and his fellow Washington elite, we probably do seem whiney when we are pissed about skyrocketing food and fuel prices. Then of course you must take on the mental recession quote, basically saying that the fact that we need to scratch and claw just to stay even is really all in our heads. Wow, Phil you have achieved the status of universal ass hat. actually I may have to amend that to ass turtle neck because you really got your head up there. Look, I have a hard but good job. I make an above average wage for Minnesota. I live with a girl who makes, on the average, more than I do. Together, even three years ago, we would be living really well. Now, not so much. The rise in gas prices, the decline of the house market and the horrid increase in all other costs has made it so, even on two above average incomes, it is still hard to survive. The fear that it is the Gramm mindset that could one day be head of the U.S. Treasury makes me wake up screaming some nights. A person so disconnected with the world around him that he can't see how bad things are getting in this country. Well really, they can see it, they just don't care. Honestly, anyone who thinks their government has their best interests at heart should read a few history books and let the truth sink in. Opening your eyes only hurts for a second and every second of your life after that but it's a good pain and far better than the numbness of stupidity.
I am sorry, I have begun to rant. I really just wanted to say a few things to Mr. Gramm. I know he won't read this but just in case.
I do not feel that we are a nation of whiners. A nation of mostly pussies and a ton of morons and ignorant buffoons, yes, I couldn't argue with that. But whiners? no. I know you do not feel we need a minimum wage in this country, you like the idea of indentured slavery and fifty two people living in a one bedroom apartment because money is a burden we normal people just can't handle. I understand that you and your wife were involved in the whole Enron debacle and probably helped free thousands of people from that very same monetary burden. I also get that you and your cohorts would love to drop our country into destitution to turn this nation into an industrial complex were the rich ruled the poor with an iron fist. And that sir, is why I feel you are out of touch. So I want to do my part, I want you back in the loop as it were. Here is my offer. For one year, you and your wife come and live the life of my girlfriend and I and in return, we shall step into your shoes. You do our jobs, you pay our bills and we will do the same vice versa. I think that, by the end of one year you will really get a feeling for what it's like to be a person again, it might just knock you off of your ivory tower.
So that's my offer, after one year, if you still feel like Americans are whiners, I will graciously ask you to go piss up a rope, you elitist ass turtle neck.

The customer is always right?

The customer is always right.

I do not know the origin of this phrase. Oh, I have searched but there is little to actually go on. It's just one of those things. I can't tell you much about it but I can tell you this, I hate it. Now, I know that if you are a shop-a-holic, which is a cutesy American phrase for an ass hat with far too much money and not enough brains, that you think the world of this phrase. I also venture to guess that, if you enjoy making a waitress or waiters workday a living hell, that you also enjoy this phrase. One thing I know for certain about this set of words, if you work in retail or the food service industry, you absolutely hate it. Yes it all probably started out innocently enough, some high end store in New York in the late Forties. A time when people still had the taste of the Great Depression on their tongues. I am sure some store manager told his staff " remember, the customer is always right".

There is actually a story about a guy named Ceasar Ritz, I believe it was, he owned a few hotels in France and told his staff "The customer is never wrong". If you think about it, that seams fine, if I owned a hotel that charged out the ass for a bed that other people used year round, I would try to keep my staff from arguing with the clientel over who may or may not be a thousand dollar an hour hooker. Other stories link the phrase to Macy's. Well Macy's too was once a very high end store and store managers would probably like to keep their high fallootin' high hats coming in to be treated as they felt they deserved and, of course, hand over the bucks. The funny thing is, I have connected the origin of this phrase to several, at least formerly, high priced stores toward the early part of the twentieth century. I am actually fine with that. If I go in to a Ferrari dealer, I would expect to be pampered and doted on, more so than if I had popped on down to Crazy Achmeds scratch and dent lemon stand. That's the thing about this phrase, it belongs in a high class, high money environment. It does not belong at Denny's or Target.

And there lies my problem with the phrase. Since its rather innocent and not so humble beginnings, all the way to our current day. This phrase has been taken, horribly, out of context. People wear this ridiculous phrase on their sleeve and, at the slightest discomfort, whip it out like a dagger at the worlds fattest, laziest knife fight. " What do you mean I can't substitute ham for eggs? Don't you know the customer is always right?", "Why can't I get a discount? I didn't spill juice on it, that was my kid. the customer is always right.", " I'm not paying fifty bucks for such a mediocre half and half. Go ahead and call our pimp, I will explain to him that the customer is always right." Okay that last one is a bit of fantasy but I just hope to get to see that one day. I think that person might learn a valuable lesson about when and when not to use certain phrases, or they might get killed, either way I'm good with it.

I have worked my fair share of retail jobs and have dealt with the troglodytic armies of backward thinking, mouth breathers that enter any store in our country and, I have been bombarded by this silly, overly repeated phrase so many times I am surprised I have never summoned some dark and unholy art to form the words into stone and beat seven kinds of hell out of each and every person that has ever said it to me. god only know how, during my short time managing a Gamestop, how the cage in my back room was not full of decomposing corpses with the words "custo" or "alwa" indented into their pulverized foreheads.

You see the phrase is not meant for every one, it is meant for more expensive places with more valuable fair. It is never to be used in a food shelf line, as I am sure it has. It is meant for Chez Pierres, not Bob's Burger Hut. The Carlton, not a hotel that charges by the blood stain. You use t when you buy an Audi, not when you are trying to get your hands on your neighbors '76 Pinto wagon. It is a phrase that was made for the upper ten percent, yet it is exploited by the lower thirty. For many, it is the only string of words they can put in sequence because of the years of cousin on cousin marriage and fetal alcohol syndrome. And, they use it to death.

Look I am no fan of the upper ten either, they are bastards to a man a far as I am concerned. Yet I can not tolerate the miss use of a phrase as powerful and annoying as this. So join me gentle reader and the next time you find yourself in line behind the great, sweaty girth of one of these customer service lampreys. Take a moment to stop and just, I don't know, start them on fire. They would most likely burn for days and you could use that energy to power a lamp. Just a thought, g'night.

On the Subject of knockers.

So I am watching this news show about "extreme" body modifications and they have the typical folks that they tend to have on these shows. You get the girl with the cat whiskers and the guy with, what looks like a starfish, under his forehead. All the regular people that, at one point though, "This will set me apart, I'll do it", which is a viable idea, until people start copying them. One cat girl, that's kind of cool, two cat girls, that's just the beginning of being over done. They, of course, interviewed tattooed people as well. I do not think many tattoos fit in as body modifications. They are more like paintings on a wall. Some are bad, some are good and almost everyone has one now so they do not really count as an "extreme" body mod. The thing that struck me about the show was this. Toward the end they had women that had had breast augmentation, I'm not talking about any giant 55 double F's or anything. they just had normal woman that had gotten their breasts enhanced. It seamed so odd to me. Do some people really think that breast enhancement is an "extreme" body change? Have they never been to Venice Beach or La Jolla shores on a sunny day? A body mod is usually something that sets you apart from most people and makes many others standoffish when you are in the vicinity. Breast enhancement does something completely different. Small breasted women can suddenly fit in with their larger breasted counterparts and fit into those "really cute" blouses they couldn't wear before. Overly large breasted women can do the same, in reverse and finally not be shunned for their prodigious mammaries. At any rate, having your tatas redone will usually add to the level of your personal and public acceptance. Having a two foot length of ceramic anal beads surgically embedded into your flesh, most likely, will not help you get that promotion you were hoping for. I'm not even sure why I watched that damn show, maybe I was bored, maybe I was drunk, maybe both. At any rate, I had to turn it off, it was just getting too stupid. I know the folk that keep making those shows, probably won't read this but if they do, I just wanted to say, body modification is something that is done by a very small portion of the planet, were as breast augmentations can be found on women all over the world and, in Vegas, a lot of guys too. it is a widely accepted practice and probably the single most performed operation in the world. It doesn't belong on your shows unless you are doing a piece on Voom Voom McKnockers the woman with breasts the size of a slightly under developed bison, then you can do that show. Regular woman with normal breasts are great but they do not belong on your show. Don't worry though, as time goes on and the world gets more boring, body mods will get weirder and stranger and more bizarre, until only a small amount of the world population will have the most odd of the mods. Fads like this will come and go, they will seem common place one day, yet the next, they may all but vanish but titties will never go out of style, not ever that you can take to the bank.

George Carlin has left the building.

It always comes in threes, doesn't it? The day after I write about the worlds loss of Harvey Korman and Tim Russert, another one of my favorites slips away. I shouldn't even say one of my favorites, I should say "The greatest gift to comedy that there ever was or will be". George Carlin died of heart failure yesterday. It is so hard to describe what Carlin meant to me, in a way, he was my muse. If I was blocked and couldn't write I would pop on some Carlin to clear my head and knock the dust out. George made me want to do stand up comedy and he was the most influential person to my short lived comedy career. He kind of showed me that words are wonderful weapons and, if used properly, could build up or destroy, just about anyone. I had the pleasure of seeing him live a few years ago and couldn't get passed security to actually talk to him. He was amazing, I would have loved to meet him. Usually I try to avoid meeting entertainers I respect because, when you meet them, you invariably lose all respect for them. Carlin wouldn't have been like that he was too real, even on stage, you knew he was just being himself. I found this quote from him,

“I was doing superficial comedy entertaining people who didn’t really care: Businessmen, people in nightclubs, conservative people. And I had been doing that for the better part of 10 years when it finally dawned on me that I was in the wrong place doing the wrong things for the wrong people,”.

That was his answer when a reporter asked him about why he quit working with Jack Burns in the 60's
( It is also a quote that is on my writing room wall, I just want to explain that, those words go through my head before I set foot on a stage to do comedy. I want to make people laugh but I don't want to lower myself to do it. George did help me remember that.) Burns and Carlin had both gone to see Lenny Bruce and Bruce changed Georges perspective on comedy. Carlin could not go on doing clean comedy, even for the paycheck. That is something that, if you can't respect, then you are a douchebag . The world is full of hack comics that just regurgitate the same garbage over and over, tons of noise and very few voices. Now there is one less. I think of all the entertainers in this world, Carlin is the one I deified, gods shouldn't die but, sadly, sometimes they do. Sure he was losing a step in his last few appearances but he was still good, I was gonna get to see him again this October and I was giddy like a dork about it. George was one of a kind, no one could twist words like he could. I am a huge fan of alliteration and you can pretty much hand the to him. After all the plastic people and the newsies have had their time telling us what Carlin meant to them and after the media thoroughly bastardizes his image by calling him buzzwords like "edgy" or "envelope pushing". After the week long newsie love affair with him, wherein people praise his name, even though they couldn't quote a word. After all that, I know myself and several true fans will still be looking toward his bits for inspiration, hell, just for the will to leave the house and piss someone off, which is a reason to leave the house that I live for. Today I am going to walk into a convenience store and shout "Is today Thursday?" and walk right out. That is in tribute to George. I will also use most of the "Incomplete list of impolite words" to describe a person in line at Dairy Queen. As long as I live, I will remember two important quotes.

" Think of how stupid the average person is, now realize that half of them are stupider than that."
and

" I think it is the duty of the comedian to find out where the line is drawn and cross it deliberately"

Two thoughts that get me through the day. Well George, I don't know if there is an after life but I do hope that if there is you finally found a place for your stuff. The world will miss you. For your sake I hope the Catholics are wrong but if not, I will at least get to meet you in Hell, so that's a bright point, right?

Death

I just wouldn't feel right if I didn't put down some words regarding a couple of recent deaths. This will nor be horribly sarcastic like my usual writing because it is about people that I respect. In less than a month two people that have shuffled off their mortal coil and joined the choir invisible. Harvey Korman of movie and television fame, too me best known for playing Hedley Lamarr in Blazing Saddles, recently died at the age of eighty one years old. Korman had been suffering from an aortic aneurysm for several months. I have to say even my dark heart was saddened by his loss. You always hope that one day you might be able to shake hands with a legend like him before it's too late. It's about as big a pipe dream as being kidnapped by a bunch of Victoria Secret models and being forced to be their naked sponge bath slave and, just like that scenario, it never really happens. Harvey Korman always made me laugh and I was a huge fan of his since I was a kid and would watch him and Tim Conway on the Carrol Burnett Show. Hilarious, One of a kind and a true comic genius. The world will miss Harvey Korman just please don't forget him.
The other tragic death recently was another favorite of mine. Tim Russert of Meet the Press died of a heart attack at the age of fifty four. Now you might have guessed that I am a news addict and you would be right. I have logged several thousands of hours on global events and when it came to American politics, Tim was one of my favorites. I think it is because I felt he was relatively genuine. He was not another out of touch, blow hard (O'rielly and Limbaugh, I refer to you. Oh and if I misspelled their names I really don't care, they are not worth the time it would take to spell check it). Mr. Russert seemed very easy going and real when he reported discussed a topic, like a normal guy talking about something during a commercial while he waited for the game to pop back on. I was pretty knotted up when I found out about his passing and, if you know anything about me, you know that the death of public figures rarely bothers me. Tim was different, I never met him but I liked him and I am pretty hard to impress. I will miss him and his, let's call it, easygoingness.
That's all, just wanted to say that, I am sure you know about all that anyway but I just wanted to say a few things.



Come on, tell me these guys weren't awesome.

On the subject of children.

Today an amazing, life changing thing happened to me. With a burp and a blast of spit up, a baby came into this world. Now, before any more terror is placed in the trembling bodies of my close friends I should tell you, I refer neither to a human child of my own, nor do I refer to an ungodly abomination that I may have created via a pact with the devil and the spare parts from a 1978 Pontiac Lemans. No, the child of which I speak, is a bubbling, burping, bastard I like to call, Home Brewed Beer. Using nothing but grain, water, hops and yeast, my friends and I have turned the most rudimentary and inert ingredients and created life. Well, granted, the yeast was already alive but to be fair, I could have just killed it but I didn't, I fed it, so in a way, I played god and it all works out in the end. Today was the second day of fermentation and my beer is going strong, I must admit, I am a little giddy. I figure that this is what expectant fathers feel like. I am over joyed yet nervous. Beer is, after all, a lot like a child. You must keep it healthy as it grows, not allowing any contaminates to enter it. Otherwise you could end up with a retardation problem in the beer. Of course, you can pour bad beer down the drain, unlike what that woman in Kansas found out she could not do with her children. Beer can be harmed by sunlight and too much oxygen, children should be allowed to experience life out doors and should have plenty of oxygen. This is a good point for the great unwashed of our country, beer goes in the fridge, children go outside, not vice versa and if by any chance you are one of those people with an old fridge just sitting out near your child's swing set, at least have that common decency to shoot some air holes in it but and this is important, DO NOT SHOOT THE FRIDGE THAT HAS THE BEER IN IT! Unless it's a product of Budswieser, Coors or Miller, then what the hell, fire away. Hell, who am I kidding? If you are a fan of those beers, you probably don't read too much anyway and are even less likely to use the internet for anything more than finding NASCAR related pornography. Back too my point though. I am now worried about my beer as worried as I would be if I was to have a child, which I would also raise in a bucket in my basement. I am worried that I used too much of certain ingredients. Will I recognize it when it is ready or will I feel like the blond haired, blue eyed business man when he realizes that his green eyed, red headed wife just gave birth to their brown eyed, black haired, baby that bares a striking resemblance to the black guy in the office that always gets to work twenty five minutes after you even though he lives right next door and is usually heading to his car as you pull out of your drive way. What if I under cooked it, like some strange premature child? It was not in the oven ling enough and must struggle to make it. Could the struggle be too much? Will the beer never really mature but simply sit in my basement for the next fifty years playing X-Box and wondering what could have been? I simply can't answer these questions, i just don't know. Making beer takes so much preparation and planning, trial and error and trying again. It is a relatively exact science yet, still takes an amount of disregard for tradition and a lack of worry about failure to really make it work. So, I take it back, making beer is not like having a child, making beer is actually difficult, whereas any mook can miss spray his inferior genetics into another genetically inferior dolt and create a bumbling, drooling, poop machine that will probably grow up to be a senator and push for more mandates to hinder the art of brewing.

On the subject of domestication.

" You know Joe, you clean up real well". That is a quote I have heard several times in my life and it bothers me. I understand that it is meant as a complement. I get the idea that it is used as a flirtacious line at weddings and formal events. I get that is is not meant as an insult but, I have decided to take it as one. What am I, Pigpen? I am always relatively well groomed, well, at least showered off. I try not to stink too bad but I am a man and I do sweat and I have a very physical job. A job, wherein I get really dirty. Yet, every day after work, I go home and clean myself using hot water and a lather creating object some of you know of as soap. That is why I consider the afore mentioned line as an insult, to me it implies being dirty as a habit. I said this jokingly to a woman one day and she told me I just needed to be domesticated and then I would get used to it. Domesticated, me. I take exception to that as well. Domestic pets, domestic partners, domestic living, white picket fence and a mini-van... the American dream. That " you just need to be domesticated" comment really rang true in my mind. See I feel that I am about as domesticated as a man needs to be. I wash dirt off me, I mow my lawn, I crap in a toilet and, probably most important, I do not react to my urges to play smashy, smashy, brick face with people that get on my nerves as I meander through the city. Sure I still sleep on the floor, or under the table, now not so much because of a cave instinct but because I overdid it on the rye. And, yes, if a stranger enters my yard unannounced they are taking their concern for keeping their teeth and skin a tad haphazard. I am after all, a mammal and my space is mine, not yours, so stay the hell off of it unless I say otherwise. I think I am pretty tame though but, I am no family dog, nor am I a broken animal. Not as vicious as when I was young and angry at my balls for overdoing it on the testosterone but still, not the first person on someones "Let's piss this guy off list". I actually like the animalistic and savage side side of my nature and, truth be known, I believe that being kind of savage in the head is a boon to the enjoyment of the experience of life. After all, it wasn't until I realized that you can actually smell when a fight is going to happen, or a girl is turned on by you, or a turned on girl is about to try and fight you, that my life really perked up. Not until I started to truly embrace the more feral components of my psyche and shed many of the habits forced upon people by society, did I even become interesting to myself. Sitting in a tree on a cool summer evening, eyes closed, just smelling the world around you and listening for intruders and zombies, maybe werewolves, is a thing I have done since I was a child and I will not give up until I am buried, though the tree part gets harder every year. There are things we all do that are rooted to the days when we barely spoke in anything but grunts and refrigerators were but a pipe dream. Every year that passes these things are taken from us, most people deny they actually happen. Men walk through life broken and scared but accepted as civilized. This is domestication? They can have it. I will keep my ability to smell pheromones and my keen sense of peoples weak spots. I will not allow intruders into my cave, even if I am only renting it at the time. I will also not dance around a fire in the woods crying about my mother issues like an idiot, in a pathetic attempt to get in touch with my inner animal. I will imply sit in my tree and enjoy or hate whatever comes of the experience. I will, of course, do this with a rather fine snifter of Scotch, after all, I may be a bit of a barbarian but I am by no means a monster.

A yes for guns and bees.

You know, it's odd but every time I see a horror movie ad, I can't help but think, "Those guys need a gun". I think about how the victims are so helpless and easily terrified. There is a commercial out for a movie called The Strangers and in the ad this guy opens his living room window and there is a guy outside in burlap mask, staring in at him. Now, if the guy had a gun he could have just slammed three rounds into the masked mans center of gravity and the other two bad guys would most likely flee. I mean, if I saw that out side my window I would get real killy, real fast. So what if it was only a friend playing joke on you, that just leaves you with one less dumb friend. I guess I am just ranting, because there wouldn't be much for horror movies if everyone had a fight or flight instinct that revolved heavily around viciously attacking your assailant with a ball peen hammer and a length of razor wire that is conveniently stored near your door. Most people also, do not have a big bag of sea salt near said door for when the razor wire is done doing its handy work. I guess most people also do not want to have a pet Dire Wolf named Hades that can breath fire and has a robotic scorpion tail. Well, that's what sets me apart from most regular people, I believe that having guns is a right and defending your family and loved ones from sadists and serial killers is what is truly important. Also, owning a swarm of remote controlled Central American Killer Bees that form a fence around my yard so that guy can't put those damn political fliers on my door knob, that is good too.

Sitcoms from another reality.

The other day I was thinking thoughts of a thoughtful nature. These thinkings dealt with the possibility of there being alternate realities. You have seen so many shows with them, like the StarTrek where being evil is somehow connected to having a goatee, which, for the record, I have. n another reality, you could be a different person. Maybe you would even be a different sex. Maybe a monkey, the possibilities are literally, endless. However, as usual, my thoughts began to stray towards television. I was pondering what TV would be like in the other realm. That is why I will now give you my ideas of what some hit sitcoms would be like in another reality.

In the late 80's there was a great grand stinker of a sitcom called "Full House". It was one of those wholesome, family shows that old people liked and non-free thinking youth enjoyed basically, the same fat masses that made Bush President and sent money to Falwell. It was a sugar coated lump of burning shit from hell, that made Bob Saggett a household name and Dave Colliet rich, him and his stupid impersonations, god he sucked. Well enough ranting, here is my vision for "Full House" from another reality. I will try to write this TV Guide style.

Full House, ABC, 7:30 EST... Tonight hilarity ensues when uncle Jessy is visited by the leader of the Children of God cult who teaches him that a game of patty cake with the girls can be, not just fun but erotic to boot. Won't Danny be mad when he finds out what has been going on behind the rockers closed doors? Then tragedy strikes when Joey, after years of struggling with obscurity, accidentally suffocates while masturbating in his closet with a plastic bag and a length of underwear elastic... Don't miss it.

The Cosby Show, NBC, 8:00 EST ... On a ground breaking Cosby we learn about an important bond between a man and his son when, after taking the family car without asking, Theo is repeatedly beaten about the face and neck by Cliff with a giant plastic pudding pop. The laughs just keep coming when Clair returns home for more of her personal belongings that she forgot after the divorce. Looks like Theo fell down the same stairs she used to huh Cliff?

All in the Family, CBS, 7:00 ... Archie wife swapping? With what couple? Could it be the Jefferson's? Tune in Thursday and find out.

I think that should do it, you can imagine that I am coming up with far worse stuff that I just can't seem to properly put to words. At any rate I just wanted to share that with you and let anyone that is reading this know. If you happen to be getting television channels from a parallel dimension, please let me know about it. Oh and the 700 Club is not from another dimension, sadly those idiots are from this reality only they choose not to live in it. Eat me Pat Robertson!

my reoccurring nightmare.

Until I wrote that stuff about 80"s music, I didn't really think about this nightmare I have. It happens a couple times a year and it wakes me up with a heart pounding shock. It usually happens around late Summer to Fall, when the weather really starts to change and it goes like this.

I wake up from a dead sleep. Damn it, I already know I am late. I hurry to get dressed, search for food, no good, no food in sight. I burst through the door and run. It is snowing and very cold outside, the wind is smashing against my skin and it feels like a slap from a frozen, leather glove. In the distance I can see the waining lights of a bus. I am too late, I can not make it to school on time... That is when I wake up for real.

Like I said, I have this dream every year since I graduated from school. It wasn't that strange to me when I was in my twenties and pretty freshly out of the mind prison, known as public school. However now, I am in my mid-thirties. It has been over seventeen years since I left the doors of the childhood conformity machine behind me. So now it has really began to bother me that I have nightmares about missing my school bus. How deep of a trench did school leave on my psyche? If a non-conformist, semi-anarchistic, nihilist such as myself is so imprinted from that time in my life. What is it like for people with more classical mindsets? Am I to be forever imprinted, even in a minute way, to fear being late for the things so many fear being late for? Fact is that I never learned that much in school, sure I remember stuff that was pounded into my head year after year but that all amounts to a few state capitols and a couple Presidents. School was just so structured, slow and boring. I wanted to be out experiencing things and living, what they call "daydreaming", instead of crapping my youth away in a robot factory. So I stand by the thought that school is for stupid people and smart people just learn on their own. I escaped at every opportunity and My friends and I would go drink, play video games, try to pick up chicks, or just do nothing (acid) for hours, anything to not be in school. So I felt, for a time, that I beat that system but now, as I get older and the nightmares continue, I realize that the imprint is there. I have been forever scarred by the school system. Part of me will always believe that fitting in, being part of the crowd and being quiet is the only road to happiness. Well screw that. The next time I have one of these dreams, I will try to fold it over into another dream. "Oh no, I missed my bus", I will say. Then a flying Winnebago will land nearby and a beautiful and buxom woman will offer me a ride to school, if I want I can warm myself up in the hot tub fulla bitches, which is next to the pool. I will agree but say that I don't need to be at school today and tell them about a nice little island in the Boundary Waters that we should check out, where it is always warm and there is a high end wet bar. Hey, it's my dream after all.