I just washed my hands

and then I look down and there's ketchup on the back of my left hand. WTF?!

In other vital news, the stock market is having a spaz attack today and Google is all over the place.

My underwear keeps riding up, making me think I should skip the weights and just run the treadmill until my legs completely fall off tonight. But I feel sick. So maybe I won't do that.

I poured myself a cup of coffee this morning. Looking at it now I don't think I've drank a single drop of it all day and I don't want it now. If any of you want it let me know and I'll pour it into a bubble envelope and send it to you.

Did you know that as a man accumulates fat on his abdomen it makes his dick shorter? This is what keeps me running that treadmill. Why did God put fat on a man's abdomen anyway, especially if it makes his dick shorter? Sometimes I think God just did some stuff to be mean. For example: testicles

Is it a sin to speculate that God did certain things just to be mean?

Who is driving that damned tractor outside?! That thing is loud!

Binsk directed me to a blog belonging to TillyRabbit who directed me to a blog by an Angry Fat Girl. Go there and leave comments. It's so sad and tragic. Tell her she's a fat cow. She likes when people do that.

The Canadians sure did win a shitload of gold medals in the Winter Olympics, didn't they? And they seem like the happiest bunch of motherfuckers I ever saw in the Olympics, too. I guess if you got a buttload of gold medals you'd be happy, too, though. I like their happy, athletic women. I may move to Canada and get on the news for stalking female Olympic athletes up there. Or I may be on the news for being killed by them if they don't like me back.

My nuts keep itching, but it's embarassing to scratch them at work. Whoever came up with the idea of cubicals obviously didn't have itchy balls.

Soccer players are mostly fags.

Origami!

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Who Do You Look Like?

I just flat out stole this from Binsk. It's facial recognition software and just for the hell of it you can ask it to tell you what celebrities you resemble. At first I was excited by the idea. But then I tried it and the results I got were none too flattering. Here is who the computer says I looked like:

Mick Jagger, a man women have said is so ugly they couldn't stop staring at him.

Rock Hudson, a man admired by women who preferred men and died of AIDS.

Brendan Fraser, a man who played George of the Jungle at the height of his fame.

Shahid Kapoor, a man I have no fucking clue who he is.

Winona Ryder, a girl who seems to have gone off the deep end and now prefers women.

George Harrison, a dead Beetle who dated some really hot women.

Brittany Murphy, a woman who, after looking over various photos of her I've decided I'd do her, but I still don't know who she is.

So that's it then. Maybe I should try to dig up another photo and see if I can get better results?

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I won?

I found this story in "Oddly Enough" news. It caught my eye because the guy has my name.

Winning Powerball Ticket Found Under Bed

Fri Feb 24, 5:40 PM ET


SHREVEPORT, La. - After hearing of a newspaper account of an unclaimed $853,492 Powerball ticket from October, Steve Jones decided to do a little housecleaning. Of the three tickets he swept out from under the bed, one wound up being the prizewinner.

On Thursday, Jones took the ticket to the Louisiana Lottery Corp.'s headquarters in Baton Rouge and walked out with $597,447 after taxes.

"Someone had mentioned to me there was a story in the paper about the missing ticket," Jones said. "I buy them all the time, and after he told me that, I went into the room I sleep in and started looking. I grabbed me a mop and went up under the bed and found three of them."

Jones took the tickets to a liquor store where he buys many of his lottery tickets, and a store clerk scanned them.

"The first two were nothing, but the third ticket said I needed to go the lottery office," said Jones. "I didn't know whether it was the Match-5 winnings or something else. But when they said I had to drive to Baton Rouge, I started looking for someone to drive me."

The retailer who sold the Match-5 Bonus ticket got $8,534. Match-5 Bonus, pays a bonus to players who match the five white ball numbers but do not correctly match the red Powerball number when a record Powerball jackpot is surpassed.

Jones' ticket was to expire April 17. Winners of the lottery's draw games, such as Powerball, have 180 days after the drawing to claim their prize.

___

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Winter Olympics End

Why do I always feel sad when the Olympics end? I always miss half of them and then start watching close to the end.

I always start off not caring much, but then being reminded of all the sports I competed in over the years and wishing I was still involved and had kept going, as if I would have ever made it that far. Why do I always care when it ends? What is it about my regular daily life that I lack, but seem to find by watching someone else achieve great things?

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What Sports Car Are You?

I'm a Fiat!

You live on the edge, and you live for the adrenaline rush. You don't need luxuries, comfort, or reliability. You put your pedal down, get your motor screaming, and take all the curves that life throws at you at full speed, right up until the motor blows and you have to get towed home. So what if you catch fire occasionally? Just look how cute that car is!

Take the Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.

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Ancient Chinese Secret, eh?

1. Virginity like bubble, one prick, all gone.
2. Man who run in front of car get tired.
3. Man who run behind car get exhausted.
4. Man with hand in pocket feel cocky all day.
5. Foolish man give wife grand piano. Wise man give wife upright organ.
6. Man who walk through airport turnstile sideways going to Bangkok.
7. Man with one chopstick go hungry.
8. Man who scratch ass should not bite fingernails.
9. Man who eat many prunes get good run for money.
10. Baseball is wrong. Man with four balls cannot walk.
11. Panties not best thing on Earth. But next to best thing on Earth.

12. War does not determine who is right, but who is left.
13. Wife who put husband in dog house soon find him in cat house.
14. Man who fight with wife all day get no piece at night.
15. It take many nails to build crib, but one screw to fill it.
16. Man who drive like hell bound to get there.
17. Man who stand on toilet is high on pot.
18. Man who live in glass house should change clothes in basement.
19. Man who fish in other man's well often catch crabs.
20. Man who fart in church sit in own pew.
21. Crowded elevator smell different to midget.

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I'm a Bitch, I'm a lover, I'm a child, I'm a Mother!

I was watching NBC's coverage of the Olympics last night, accidently missing CSI in the process, and I was once again struck by something irritating.

You know how at all the televised football games now the networks have some woman who has nothing whatever to do with football working the sidelines interviewing and making comments, and in almost every case you can't help but think, "who the hell is she and why is she here?" Yeah, well NBC has something like that with figure skating, too.

Here's the scenario as I perceive it. There are 3 announcers covering the women's figure skating competition. One is Scott Hamilton, one is Tracy Wilson, and one is a cranky bitch named Dick Button. Scott Hamilton and Tracy Wilson are former skaters themselves. They've competed in figure skating in relatively recent Olympics and they know what they're talking about. The bitch, Dick Button, is an older man who won America's first gold medal in mens' figure skating way back in 1948.

Here's how it's been both times I've watched.

SCOTT: Here's the Russian girl. She's got a lot of punch and a lot of flair. She's been so close to spectacular in so many competitions that I can't help but feel she could break out at any moment.
TRACY: Yes, I know exactly what you mean. She's got a fire in her and if she could just bring it out and control it she'd be great.
DICK: I haven't seen any fire or flair in her at all. In fact, I think she's just plain drab. She looks like she's just gotten out of bed and didn't even take a shower. I don't know who did her hair, but it's a rat's nest. And that dress is a rag. I've seen better outfits on homeless people. (long pause) I hope I don't sound too critical.

SCOTT: It's Finland's turn. She's young and she's very controlled. She doesn't take big risks, but she almost never falls. She's got a ways to go, but she's very, very good.
TRACY: As you can probably tell she's also done some modeling. She's one of the prettiest skaters ever to take the ice in the Olympics.
DICK: I'd do her. But her presentation could use some work.

SCOTT: Now for the girl from Georgia. She's young and she's a little out of control, but she's got the most spectacular jumps. She's could be huge.
TRACY: She loses control a lot because of her tremendous speed, but she's young and she can still get that under control. She's very impressive.
DICK: That outfit she's wearing is barely there. She's got a nice body and she presents it well. Wow. But she spins slightly crooked and her arms aren't high enough. And her skates appear to have been tied with the loop and through the bunny hole technique, which just looks sloppy.

SCOTT: And now the girl from Italy. She's struggled in these games. Her lines are long and she's taller than most of the girls.
TRACY: Yes, and that height really makes it hard for her to come around in those jumps. She has to work extra hard.
DICK: She's a maniac on the ice. She reminds me of a newborn colt that can barely walk because she's so awkward. She's like a string puppet and one of the strings has come undone. Her spins are ugly and her leaps are clumsy. She's a disaster.

SCOTT: OK, now it's Sasha Cohen. She's been struggling in the practices today. I hope she can pull herself together in time.
TRACY: She's got fear in her eyes and she's had that groin injury. She's battling.
DICK: I just hope she doesn't blow it like she did last time. I don't know which is the bigger loser, Sasha or Michelle Kwan. I mean, come on ladies, get it together. America has high expectations of you and you'd better come through. It's gold or nothing, ladies. I don't know why our top women keep letting us down in this event. They keep crumbling under pressure and it's truly pathetic to watch. They're just awful. It's too bad Mary Lou Retton can't skate.


SCOTT: Well, Arakawa of Japan simply has to skate a conservative program without any major errors and the gold will most likely be hers.
TRACY: And she's very good at that. She's very good at simply taking the minimum of risk and not making any mistakes.
DICK: She's pretty. I like her. I wish our girls looked more like her. Everything she does looks graceful. She's a real lady, unlike some of the girls, and I use the term 'girls' rather loosely.

SCOTT: OK, now it's Slutskaya's turn. She's overcome so much. She's truly an inspiration.
TRACY: She really is. She's been through it and back again, what with her mother's health problems and then her own health problems. It's a miracle she's even here.
DICK: What a horrible name, SLUT-sky-ya. It sounds like something we would make up to call a girl we didn't like in school. I'll bet she's got a lot of pent up anger over that. It's no wonder she wears her hair short like a boy and tries to look as unattractive as possible. She skates like a man.

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7 Songs and a Tag

I have been tagged by Stacy the Peanut Queen.

The rules:
List 7 songs you're into right now. No matter the genre, whether they have words, or even if they're any good, they must be songs you're really enjoying right now. Post these instructions in your blog along with your seven songs. Then tag 7 other people to see what they're listening too.

1. "You Got The Silver" - by Susan Tedeschi
2. "In 2 Deep" - by Kenny Wayne Shepherd
3. "100 Years" - by Five for Fighting
4. "Boulevard Of Broken Dreams" - by Green Day
5. "Like An Animal" - by Nine Inch Nails
6. "Crossfire" - by Stevie Ray Vaughn
7. "One Last Breath" - by Creed

Yeah, so none of these are exactly new. I can't really say that I'm into anything right now. I bought some CDs in the past couple of months, but only a few of those were new releases. I tend to listen to whatever is on the radio until I find what I like. Then when they've played it all they plan to and stop playing it I buy it and burn the song or songs I like to a CD of my own. When the radio people won't shut up and play music I pop in my own CD with all the songs I feel like hearing and listen to it in whatever order I feel like. Today, for example, I feel like total shit, so I started to play several songs and then ended up turning the whole thing off. Today is not a good day for music, I guess.

Now, the seven fellow bloggers I choose to tag with this are below (ignore if you've already been tagged) ...

LizzieDaisy
Tammy
The Kept Woman
The_Mrs
JackD's Rose
Binsk
J Holden
and
Gloria Jean

Yeah, so it's 8 people. I've had a bad weekend and I feel like being a rebel. Get over it.

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Fabulous Monday

8:00 a.m. - Eat breakfast

9:00 a.m. - drop of Boy Cat at vet so they can operate on his foot which he has been limping on for months.

9:30 a.m. - Arrive at mechanic. Sit in very uncomfortable couch reading while waiting on car. Vaguely aware of perpetual cold breeze that is always here in their office, summer and winter.

1:00 p.m. - Finish book. Car still not finished. No call from vet about cat.

1:45 p.m. - Car done. $994.18. I say "thank you." Mechanic says "thank YOU." I spent a few hundred here last week with different car. I'm making him rich.

2:30 p.m. - Arrive at vet. "How's my cat?" "Wait here and we'll check." Damn, waiting for a long time here. I want to go home and eat lunch. Where the hell are they?!

3:00 p.m. - Leave vet with cat still limping and no surgery. $320.55

3:30 p.m. - Arrive home again with cat, car and a very tired and hungry me.

4:00 p.m. - Eat lunch, uncover plants in back yard. Let girl cat run around in the remaining ice and snow.

4:15 p.m. - Girl cat is cold and wants to come in. Boy cat is bored and wants to go out. I forgot to thaw anything down for supper tonight. Bring down meat, which will not thaw in this freezing cold house before sometime tonight at around 4 a.m.

4:30 p.m. - Finally get to take a poo for the day.

4:45 p.m. - Finally update blog.


And that was my day off today. Yee-frickin'-ha.

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Quizzy Quizzy, Who's Got The Quizzy?

You Are 32% Abnormal

You are at medium risk for being a psychopath. It is somewhat likely that you have no soul. You are at medium risk for having a borderline personality. It is somewhat likely that you are a chaotic mess. You are at low risk for having a narcissistic personality. It is unlikely that you are in love with your own reflection. You are at medium risk for having a social phobia. It is somewhat likely that you feel most comfortable in your mom's basement. You are at low risk for obsessive compulsive disorder. It is unlikely that you are addicted to hand sanitizer.

How Abnormal Are You?

Your Job Dissatisfaction Level is 59%

Well, you don't have the worst job in the world, but it's not great. And don't worry, you're not the problem - your company is. Start looking around for another job, even if you're not totally fed up. Because in time, you're going to be dying to quit!

Should You Quit Your Job?

Your Personality Profile

You are dependable, popular, and observant. Deep and thoughtful, you are prone to moodiness. In fact, your emotions tend to influence everything you do. You are unique, creative, and expressive. You don't mind waving your freak flag every once and a while. And lucky for you, most people find your weird ways charming!

The World's Shortest Personality Test

Your Sexy Brazilian Name is:

Guilherme Souza

What's Your Sexy Brazilian Name?

You Are a Visionary Soul

You are a curious person, always in a state of awareness. Connected to all things spiritual, you are very connected to your soul. You are wise and bright: able to reason and be reasonable. Occasionally, you get quite depressed and have dark feelings. You have great vision and can be very insightful. In fact, you are often profound in a way that surprises yourself. Visionary souls like you can be the best type of friend. You are intuitive, understanding, sympathetic, and a good healer. Souls you are most compatible with: Old Soul and Peacemaker Soul

What Kind of Soul Are You?

You Are 50% Weird

Normal enough to know that you're weird... But too damn weird to do anything about it!

How Weird Are You?

Your Scholastic Strength Is Evaluating

You are great at looking at many details and putting them all together. You are talented at detecting subtle trends, accuracy, and managing change. You should major in: Statistics Speech Conflict studies Communication Finance Medicine

What Should You Major In?

In addition to all of the preceding totally useless information about myself I want to inform you all that I have a headache. Yes, and it won't go away. I think my eyes are going to leap out of my face and run away from me because of the pain.

Another totally useless tidbit about me is this: my favorite TV commercial is the Bartles and James ad where the gorgeous woman complains that she can't get any beads and they tell her to inhale and hold. And then guys start throwing beads at her because her huge breasts are bulging. And then she's happy. That cracks me up.

Oh, and my Jamaican name is Honkey McWhitey.

Just in case you were interested.

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Abba Attacks!

Help Me!

I was ripping Kenny Wayne Shepherd CDs.

After each CD was finished it would start playing the songs one after another.

It was really cool.

Somewhere along the line something went terribly wrong.

Suddenly my player began playing Abba songs, one after another after another.

I know the songs are on my harddrive somewhere, but I can't find them.

Someone Help Me!

I'm being Abba'ed to death and I can't make it stop!

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Mail Art!

It's here at last! Artful Laura's mail art for me!

Artful Laura, the one person who called me up when I blogged that I was down, just to see if I was OK.

The one person who talked to me while I drove home from work with the hands-free headset in my ear, me cursing at Memphis drivers and she dealing with a crying Bee.

The one person who found me a house in her very own neighborhood so I could move in and take her for a cruise in the Chevelle.

The one person who knows as much about '80s rock music as I do.

The one person I would turn to if I had a gang of drug lords in my neighborhood and I needed help killing them all off, 'cause she could do it and she wouldn't hesitate.

The one person who engaged me in a photo war to see who could look the most like Clint Eastwood with actual self portraits.

The one person to use a camera and a microphone while IMing me so I could see if I was really making her laugh or not.

The first person I know to really do Half Nekkid Thursday right!

Artful Laura - you rock!

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Post Valentine's Day

Yesterday I went home at lunch to set up the house and surprise My Wife for Valentines Day. I hung red ribbons across the ceiling in the living room. Then I put a red Heart balloon in the garage right in front of the door so that when she pulled her car in it was right in front of her, alerting her that something was up.


When she got that balloon she found a note taped to it, "I love you."

She came in the door to the kitchen where she was looking straight through the next doorway to the living room. In the living room straight through the doorway I had a gigantic heart balloon with HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY printed on it, and another note taped to it. She couldn't miss it.


When she turned to put her keys down on the table there was a dozen red roses in a glass vase, hiding the smell of Booger Bear's poop which he just took in the litter box as soon as I let him in the house, causing me to scream obscenities and throw both cats right back outside again.


But the roses were just a misdirection. Roses aren't her favorite, but she wouldn't think I'd remember that. Roses are a standard for Valentine's Day. Awwww, roses.

When she went into the living room and put her first red heart balloon with her gigantic second one she saw all the red ribbons hanging from the ceiling.

Then she turned and looked on the glass table in front of the couch. There I had 14 red tulips in a planter. THAT is her favorite. Tulips drown and rot in Memphis yards and we have drowned more than our share. So now she has some growing inside the house courtesy of moi.


When she went to the bedroom to change clothes there was her Valentine's Day card and a heart-shaped box of chocolates on the pillow.

When she took her card and candy she found another note hidden under the box.

She brought it all into the living room to her seat on the couch. When she got there she found a stuffed Snoopy dog in her seat. She picked him up so she could sit down. Hidden under him was another note, "this is where My Honey sits." It had an arrow pointing down to her seat.

About this time I came in the door with supper from her favorite restaurant. I would have been home in time to see her reactions to all of this, but I had made a side trip to Target, where I never shop, to buy the DVD of "Just Like Heaven" with Reese Witherspoon for us to watch. But they didn't have it and they didn't have any help so I searched and searched until I gave up and went home, just in time to find that she had gotten there and found all her stuff without me.

I came in the door and she was giggling and grinning from ear to ear. She hadn't even changed clothes. She had all her stuff piled in the living room together.

And she had brought the cats back in. Our Little Girl cat couldn't stop staring at the giant swaying balloons in the center of the room. She was mesmerized by them. The Boy was just hiding in his bed, afraid he'd get thrown out again for pooping in the box and stinking up my Valentine's surprise.

"I wanted to be here to see your face," I said to her.

She threw her arms around me and kissed me, giggling and laughing and hugging the stuffing out of me for a long, long time.

Late that night, as she was climbing into bed, she pulled her covers back and giggled some more. "It's another note!"

"Yep."

This morning, when she was getting her clothes together before taking her shower she started giggling again. "There's another note in my underwear!"

"Yep. Happy Valentine's Day, Honey."

"Happy Valentine's Day. I love you!"

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Nude Memphis Valentines

My Wife and I have a funny system for events like Valentine's Day. We'll both buy more cards than we actually need. Then, on the day itself, we'll go through them again, for the "final cut" to make sure we get just the right one. Usually we end up giving 2 cards anyway, one which is very serious. The other almost always says something about farting.

Every year My Wife has hung red ribbons across the living room for Valentine's Day. This year she may have to work late. If so I'm plotting to try to surprise her by doing it before she gets home.

My Wife and I met in college, as I was graduating and she was in the beginnings of her freshman year. We never intended to date each other. I had recently been dumped by my fiancee, whom I loved and had expected to marry, and she herself was already dating someone else.

We were both runners. She had no car and didn't feel safe running on campus. I had a car, but no motivation to go running all alone. So I agreed to drive her to the running park where I had competed in cross country in high school if she would run with me.

My friends said I was robbing the cradle. I said "we're not going to date. I'm not messing with any more 18 year olds ever again."

At first we only saw each other when we ran or every now and then in Sunday school, if we both showed up, which we often didn't. Later we ended up playing tennis together. We had other friends who had pushed us to hang out together in the first place, but mostly for their entertainment because we were both so similar in our weird senses of humor. Eventually, though, we were hanging out without them. And they got mad.

Neither one of us knows for sure exactly when we went from being friends to dating. It was a gradual thing. For a long time we were just sitting around watching football in the dark, cold den. At some point we ended up ignoring the football and watching each other. It was unplanned and unexpected.

And undressed.

I think we had only been dating for about a year and a half when I got a job offer in Memphis. It was a great offer and I couldn't turn it down.

"So are we breaking up," she asked me?

"No way. I'm not letting this go so easily" was my answer. So for 2 solid years I drove 200 miles each way from Memphis to my hometown to see her on weekends. Every Friday after work, while my coworkers were going out to party without me, I was on the road for 200 miles to see her. Every Sunday night she would cry and ask me to stay. But I had to be back in Memphis, 200 miles the other way.

It got to the point that My Cat would freak out every time he saw my bag. "Don't leave me here all alone for 2 whole days" he would scream, in a way only a Maine Coon cat can do. After I was gone he would pee on something. "Yeah, take that!"

Finally we got married. Our wedding was in a chapel on top of a mountain that overlooked my hometown. Her entire family came. My entire family came, plus my adopted family, the Kings. It was a great wedding. No, we didn't smash cake in each other's faces, but I did nearly blow my own head off popping the cork on the champaign bottle.

We were both so socially inept that when the Kings threw us a wedding shower we weren't sure what to do. I think we annoyed the heck out of them, but it was a great shower. Thank God for the Kings, the greatest people I ever knew!

Once we were married we moved her up to Memphis, stopping so she could pee several times on the side of the highway in the pouring rain at 2 a.m. She said she'd never again drink Coca Cola while traveling. We hit every bathroom and even made our own. Good thing it was a large moving truck so no one could see her there watering the shoulder of the highway.

We lived in a nice apartment for a year, sandwiched between a drunken painter below us and a drunken woman who loved sex at 2 a.m. and throwing furniture while screaming shortly after the sex. The more she drank the harder she stomped. If she wasn't shaking the walls with sex then she was shaking the ceiling with stomping feet and flying furniture. Her boyfriend had to be a fast mover to survive her. She was out of control and wore on My Wife's last nerve pretty quickly.

Eventually we bought a house and moved in.

She wanted a fireplace in the living room and a kitchen she could use. I wanted a 2 car garage with plenty of storage space and all brick. We both got what we wanted.

Just now she sent me an email. Here is what it says:

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! HAPPY VALENTINE'’S DAY! HAPPY VALENTINE'’S DAY! HAPPY VALENTINE'’S DAY! HAPPY VALENTINE'’S DAY! HAPPY VALENTINE'’S DAY! HAPPY VALENTINE'’S DAY! HAPPY VALENTINE'’S DAY! HAPPY VALENTINE'’S DAY! HAPPY VALENTINE'’S DAY! HAPPY VALENTINE'’S DAY! HAPPY VALENTINE'’S DAY! HAPPY VALENTINE'’S DAY! HAPPY VALENTINE'’S DAY! HAPPY VALENTINE'’S DAY! HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!

It scrolls on for page after page.

I sent her back something similar.

Last night we sat together under a blanket and watched "Vertigo", an Alfred Hitchcock movie. Right now I wish we were still sitting there. I don't want to be at work. I want to be home with her. It's Valentine's Day. It should be a holiday. I want to see her.

Anyway, to all of you who still come by and read what I write, "Happy Valentine's Day" and I hope you have a good one!

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Out Damned Spot!

I'm sitting in my cell, I mean, cubicle working away at my computer. Suddenly I get an itch on my leg so I reach down without looking and scratch it. When I draw my hand back up again to continue typing I have blood all over it.

WTF?!

I look down at my leg. There's blood on my pants. I pull up my pantleg and I'm pouring blood out of this big gash in the side of my leg.

OK, let's examine this crime scene carefully.

I'm in a cubicle sitting in a chair at a desk.

There are no weapons around that I know of.

No one is shooting at me.

I have not been involved in any kick-fights with knife-welding secretaries today.

I don't see any sharp corners that I might have somehow gouged myself on without realizing it and screamed, "Oh mother of God why are you so cruel to ME?!!!"

There are no arrows lying around me on the floor that might have been fired by the Indian contractors several cube rows over. I'm not even sure if people in India ever used bows and arrows.

My Dockers have never cut me before, so I think it's safe to assume it wasn't them this time either.

Lorena Bobbitt does not work in my office.

My fabulous socks are really kean-o and sharp-looking, but they don't stab people.

In short, I can't figure this out.

So, that about sums it up. There is nothing anywhere around here that might have gashed my leg, and yet here I sit with my shoe filling up with blood and a trash can filled with bloody napkins.

Man, when the janitor empties my trash I would SO like to see her face. Maybe I should bleed on the carpet a little just to make it look good? And do a little chalk outline of my foot for added effect?

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Isn't It A Poopie Day To Get Caught In The Rain

It's been a punami year so far. And it's not over yet.

First, I wrote all about my long poofest of the other week. And then The Kept Woman was having Poo Nuggets appear all around her home, which her children were finding and playing with. And then Lucky Lum had to medicate her kids to try to stop the mudslides of poo that had been her Monday mission.

If poo were gold we'd all be rich.

And just to top it all off, Stacy the Peanut Queen has pee to deal with.

And SillyNessa has a colon cleansing with herbs!

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Germany Brings To Trial Those Who Disagree

MANNHEIM, Germany (Parody) - The trial of a prominent German Holocaust and David Hasselhoff denier extradited from Canada resumed on Thursday and his lawyer charged the case was politically motivated.

"Nooooooooooo!" responded German prosecutor Harvey Mintz sarcastically.

Ernst Zuendel, publisher of works such as "Did the Six Million Dollar Man Really Die?" and "Fritz the Farting Dog" is facing charges of inciting racial hatred in addition to denying that the Nazis killed six million Jews. Holocaust denial is a crime in Germany that is punishable with up to five years in prison, as is denying the historical existence of Saint Nicholas and failure to show proper respect and admiration for David Hasselhoff, all of which Zuendel appears to be potentially guilty of in his latest book, "Baywatch, Santa and the Jews."

"David Hasselhoff is very important to Germany," Mintz said. "He inspires our youth to greater things, such as the driving of old American Pontiacs and wearing fine leather products."

The trial was suspended last year after the judge dismissed his publicly appointed defense lawyer when she produced written submissions that appeared to deny the Holocaust. So she was arrested and charged, too.

"It is a crime in Germany to defend anyone accused of denying the Holocaust or David Hasselhoff's godlike qualities." Mintz stated. "She should have simply stated that her client is guilty and left it at that."

Zuendel's newly appointed attorney, Hans-Ullrich Beust, said he would defend his client without resorting to grandstanding, which includes declaring innocence and the right to free speech and thought, though he did complain that the trial was obviously politically motivated and thus a sham.

"The defense is supposed to defend the accused without prejudice or political misconceptions, which is to say without free thought or free speech. But these proceedings are clearly political," Beust told reporters. "We aren't even allowed to present the evidence of possible innocence. We are simply expected to say we're guilty, like the communist purges under Stalin."

State prosecutor Andreas Grossmann told reporters that he expected Zuendel's defense team would try to "drag out the proceedings to create a forum" for Zuendel's ideas.

His trial was suspended in November and the state court in Karlsruhe ruled a new defense lawyer would need time to become familiar with the 34 volumes of evidence and Hardy Boys books the state had entered.

It said that while preparations were underway, Zuendel, who has been in custody in Germany since March 2005 after being deported from Canada, could not be released because of the danger he would speak freely of his beliefs.

"We simply can't allow the risk of anyone stating a different view from that officially recognized by our great leader," Mintz told the judge in requesting no bail be allowed. "We believe he will continue to openly disrespect David Hasselhoff and also the great Chuck Norris."

Germany has only recently passed new laws declaring the government's official position that Chuck Norris is a Germanic god and must be worshipped by all Aryan citizens, and also real people who actually live in Germany.

The case comes as Germany and other European countries have reacted with feigned outrage to comments by Iran's President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad who has repeatedly denied that the Holocaust took place at all, declared Disney's "Bambi II" to be a joke, and called for Israel to be "wiped off the lawn like doggy poo."

"Also," President Ahmadinejad added, "the show 'They Call Me Earl' is funny as shit."

Zuendel, a German citizen who has spent much of his life in Canada studying Mapleleaf hockey and Canadian beer and whose name is sometimes spelled Zamboni, ran a "revisionist" Web site and distributed a publication called "Germania Rundbrief" denying the Holocaust killed exactly 6 million Jews, claiming instead that it was closer to 4 million, and declaring that the Earth is flat.

"We take no offense at his declaration that the Earth is flat," Mintz said in a press conference. "No one can know that for sure, so until we have an official position from the Great Leader we will let it slide."

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SPF - Home Sweet Home

This is Stuff Portrait Friday. Normally California Kristine handles it, but she's taking this week off. Kami of the DallasKs is doing the honors. This week the topics are:

~ What you love most about your home
~ What you love least about your home
~ What you love most about yourself


What I Love Most About My Home




My Wife hung these ribbons all around the house before I got home from work on my birthday.
Every now and then she will hang ribbons up like this on special occasions.
She says it's because My Mom never did anything like this for me.
Other times she's hidden cards all around the house, including in my shoes and underwear, telling me all the reasons she loves me.
She'll get all giggly and impatient waiting for me to find them all.
I've done the same for her.
Last time I hung yellow sticky notes all over the house before she got home telling her how much I love her.

This is what I'll remember about this house that I love.
When we leave here we probably won't miss Memphis, but we'll always remember the love in our home.


What I Love Least About My Home



This is one of my neighbors. He calls himself Rooster. He's about 45 years old.
He's alcoholic and has mostly lost his mind.
He apparently did some really hard drugs when he was younger.
He lost his license years ago for DUI and as yet they have continually refused to give it back. Apparently cussing out the judge is a bad idea.
Who knew?
It's been at least 7 years now that we know of that he's been without his license.
He's right across the street and he likes to get stoned and start screaming at imaginary people.
He usually yells things like, "You goddamn niggers get outta here!"
His other favorite is, "Fuck you! Fuck alla you!"
Sometimes he yells at real people, but he usually doesn't yell at me.
Perhaps he knows I might hurt him?
He also avoids yelling at My Wife when I'm around.
He's a decent guy when he's sober, but that isn't all that often.
He once said to me, "don't pay no mind to me. I'm just crazy."
He knows he's in a bad way.

He's not the only neighbor like this, but he's one of the closest.
He's also one of the main reasons we haven't had kids while living here.


What I Love Most About Myself



This is a hard one to do.
There isn't much I particularly love about myself.
But I do seem to be fairly creative and capable of getting a laugh.
I was proud of myself for being able to make a good photo-story out of the chocolate creme eggs that Katya sent to me about a year ago, a story involving this rather familiar chicken.

Most of you probably weren't reading my blog back when I did that.

I think if I didn't have creativity and some way of expressing it I would lose my mind.

Maybe I already have and I just don't know it?
Maybe Rooster has a blog and right now he's writing about his crazy neighbor across the street who has a stuffed chicken that he sticks in his pants?

You never know.

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Half Nekkid Thursday - My Pecker

WARNING: There is a photo of a man's pecker below!








I'm not kidding










Don't scroll down until your kids are out of the room unless you want them to get an early education








Seriously










This is not my pecker

The photo of my pecker is over here

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Further Adventures of a Gym Rat

(Written last night. I tell you this because I'm too lazy to go back and change all the references to "today" and "tonight.")

I felt crappy today, but it's my gym day and I hate when I miss my workouts. So I battled the lovely Memphis traffic, including a Memphis cop who turned his blue lights on to tell a dumb Cordova fuckwit to get the hell out of the middle of the road or else prepare for a ticket and a taser dance, and I went home and changed clothes. I fumbled about for awhile, not able to make up my mind if I was going or not. It's been SO crowded lately and despite the hot young girls that are in amongst the crowd I still hate it.

Maybe if I wait one more day, maybe that one extra day will eliminate enough of the New Year's Resolution People to give me some breathing room again?

Little did I realize how badly I was going to need that breathing room.

Finally I put on my '80s fashion gym clothes and swallowed my oh so tasty protein and creatine drink before heading out.

"Please tape 'Scrubs' for me. I don't mind missing the rest, but please tape Scrubs," I said to My Lovely Wife as I left the house and she anxiously prepared to watch 'House.' I had already set up the VCR in the bedroom to tape it, but this Korean Magnavox VCR/DVD creation is a mystery that neither I, the family Genius, nor My Wife, the family Accountant, have been fully able to master. Able ... willing ... whatever. We just don't care enough to learn it. How pathetic is that?

As soon as I arrived at the gym it was clear that I was going to have trouble. There was nowhere to park anywhere near the building. I ended up parking way at the back of the parking lot.

"Maybe they're ALL here for the basketball game?" I thought hopefully.

I went inside and seeing the people at the desk swamped with guests I decided to cheat and look around before paying my money. Yes, I hope to move sometime this year so I have not purchased an actual membership. I pay as I play. Anyway, I walked all around the gym. Packed like sardines it was in there. The upstairs militia training room was packed with stomping, kicking, vicious women training to become Green Berets or something and all practicing crotch kicks on large heavy black pads. All the treadmills and various machines were filled with smiling sweaty girls and graying flabby men. Ah, but the freeweights were not crowded at all! Ha! Just as I expected!

So I went back to the front desk and asked "is there any particular night that is less crowded than others?"

"Nope, but everyone usually clears out after class ends. We advertised this new fighting class pretty heavily and there are a lot of people here for that."

Great, a gym filled with psychotic women and me. This is a dream come true. No wait, this is middle school. No, I'll never go there again! I thought we had agreed never to think of this again! Back to the present. I need to work out.

I went to the locker room and changed clothes. I didn't find any more wallets so I went on out to the gym and started getting the weights I needed.

It's funny how incredibly crowded the gym was, and yet I was able to use not one, but two benches at the same time, without inconveniencing anyone. Me and a couple of guys were all that was over in the sweaty freeweight area.

I was late getting there and pushed for time. So I pushed myself hard. I lowered the amount of weight I used and rested less between sets. I figured I could use the change-up anyway. But I forgot how pathetic I am. After abs, 6 sets of dumbbell presses and pulldowns, more abs, 6 sets of dumbbell deltoid raises, and still more abs, it was time to do nose busters and barbell curls. I loaded up the bar. This was all that was left before legs. This was all I had to get through and then I had to find a treadmill and run my ass off because I really, really want to be done running by 9 p.m. or else I won't be able to cool down enough to get to sleep tonight.

So I started cranking out the nose busters, which is when you lie on your back on a bench and hold the curl bar straight up. Then you lower it using only your triceps until it comes to your nose. Then you raise it up fast again. You just keep doing this until your triceps swell up and threaten to drop the bar on your face. At that point you're done. Combine this with curls and you've got a perfect set. So I was cranking along.

Uh oh, I'm getting that "slowly getting sick feeling." I could feel my body starting to warn me that I was in the red zone. I was slowly getting sick and once it begins it doesn't stop. This always means I have only a very few sets left in me before I either puke or pass out. I got to my fifth set of this and then had to put my head between my knees. But it kept getting worse. I began to realize that I was definitely going to pass out AND puke. I laid back flat on the bench looking up into the lights. Damn, those lights are bright.

"Wait, I shouldn't lay on my back. If I pass out and then puke anyway I'll die. Drowning in my own vomit like that guy in the news whose wife grabbed him by the balls is not how I'd prefer to go."

I sat up and actually resorted to dumping my water bottle over my head to try to cool myself down and help me recover. It made a mess, but didn't really help me any.

So I laid down in the middle of the floor in the middle of this very tightly packed gym. I then became aware of a man standing next to me helping some hot young girl work out. They were practically standing on top of me. She was pretty hot indeed and now, oh happy day, she was staring at this sweaty guy lying in the floor of the gym. The guy she was with asked if I was OK and then said I should put my feet up on the bench so they'd be higher than my head, which I did.

Lovely. This is the impression I always want to make on hot women at the gym. Yes indeed. Hi there, I'm the pale faced guy who was lying at your feet trying not to puke the other night. Remember me?

Yeah, so awesome.

Amazingly enough no one stepped on me or dropped any weights on me while I was down there. Also, I didn't puke or pass out.

After awhile I was able to get up again. I wasn't dead and I wasn't finished, so I went on with my workout. Hey, I puked after every cross country race I ran in during my freshman year. I know my limitations, I just choose to push them at times. I guess this would be one of those times. Any thought of quitting and going home immediately ends when I look in the mirror at myself and then look at the women in the gym. I have work to do. Lots of work. If I'm not dead then I need to get back at it.

I did another round of abs and then I started looking for a treadmill. My knee has hurt all day and I've been having doubts about trying to run, but again, the mirror tells me to get a move on. So I started running. My knee kept bugging me. Finally I decided it wouldn't hurt me to do something different and maybe shake up my leg muscles a bit. So I moved to the elliptical thing, thinking my knee would be better off. After awhile I found myself in a daze. There was some old guy on the elliptical next to me. The Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader tryouts was on TV in front of me. I gradually got into an awkward groove and faded into my own world. Periodically I would look upstairs at the class in the fishbowl room. They were still practicing crushing groin kicks on large hand-held kick pads. Looking at them up there made me feel instantly tired, like I should go lie down somewhere and give up. But I couldn't.

At one point I became aware of a guy and a girl on the treadmills in front of me and to my left. They were staring back over their shoulders at me. "What the hell are they looking at me for?"

I suddenly realized I had been staring mindlessly at the ass of a girl on the treadmill in front of me. She was wearing lime green sweatpants with the word "pink" written across her rather impressive ass. I didn't even realize I was looking at her, but I was apparently so fascinated by the contradiction of the green pants labeled "pink" that those other 2 treadmill runners had noticed. The green ass girl must have been anywhere from 14 to 19 years old. I couldn't say for sure. She was with her mom who was on the treadmill next to her, apparently unaware of my laser like focus on her daughter's fine hypnotic ass.

Oops.

So I started to look around for awhile. Upstairs, the women's militia were still kicking the shit out of crotches. They had music going so they could do it in rhythm now, like some sort of sick dance. They had been doing this for the entire time I had been at the gym and I began to wonder if they ever got tired of it. Surely their feet must be killing them by now after kicking all those imaginary crotches?

The green "Pink" assed girl and her mom eventually finished and got off the treadmills. Then, oddly enough, the girl who had been staring at me while I was staring at the green "Pink" ass girl came over and got on the treadmill directly in front of me.

Um, what? She had been on the treadmill next to that guy and now she's moved over to the one directly in front of me. And oh look at this, she's got on a pair of pink sweatpants with "Pink" written across the ass, too! WTF? Is this some sort of girl gang insignia? Do girls who have "Pink" written on their asses have a thing for getting those asses stared at? Is that why there's writing back there in the first place? OK, fine by me. I won't complain. If you want me to read your ass I guess I will.

But then, unfortunately for the new "Pink" assed girl, the hot girl who had been standing over me as I was lying in the floor trying not to puke came over. She got on the very treadmill that the pink "Pink" assed girl had gotten off of, to my left. She was much hotter than the pink "Pink" assed girl, being dressed in tight shorts and a tight tank top as she was. Most of the girls at the gym were wearing sweatpants and t-shirts, but a few who clearly know they are hot wear much tighter and fewer clothes. So I was distracted from the pink-assed girl by the blonde in the tank top who had nothing written across her ass. I know this because I checked.

As all of this excitement was going on I was becoming increasingly aware that my knee was bugging the hell out of me. Maybe I'm having my period? No, wait. That can't be right. I'm a guy.

I did 4.16 miles on the elliptical machine, stopping at one point to go backwards and see what that would do. What it did was to load up my quads with lactic acid faster than you can say "that girl has implants." But I took this to mean that I was benefiting from the change and so I kept doing it. At 9 p.m. on the dot I stopped and got off the machine. The old guy who had been next to me was still going. Bastard. Aren't you tired yet?

So, over to the ab area again. There were 2 hot girls already there working on their flawless abs for some reason. I went over to a corner and started working my own rather flawed and non-awesome abs. 2 more girls came over and basically surrounded me. So there I was, thrusting my crotch and chest upwards while surrounded by 4 girls who were laid out in front of me doing similarly odd-looking things. I tried not to think of perverted things. I tried to ignore them all. I could still see the women's militia upstairs in the big fishbowl room still practicing groin kicks. I tried to shut it all out of my mind and just disappear into my workout.

Finally I was done. I went over to the staircase where no one ever is and started stretching. Just then the women's militia came down the stairs. Wouldn't you know it? They were all worn out from hours and hours of crotch kicking. I was all worn out, too. I changed clothes and went home.

I still don't know if I got "Scrubs" on tape or not. But I hope so. I'm gonna be tired Wednesday night and in need of something to watch while sitting completely still on the couch like a potato all night long.

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Prosecutor: Manilow Teen in Pink Pants Left Note

NEW BEDFORD, Mass. (Parody) - Police searching the bedroom of an 18-year-old pink-pant wearing boy accused of two slayings and a rampage at a gay teachers' lounge where he danced to the song "YMCA" for at least 30 minutes and got into a fight which he lost found a cache of weapons, a homemade poster with Jesse Jackson, Tinky Winky and a rainbow on it and a troubling final message.

"We didn't interpret it necessarily as a suicide note, but it was certainly the note of a desperate boy who listens to way too much Barry Manilow," Bristol County sexually ambiguous District Attorney Pat Walsh Jr. said Monday.

Jacob D. Eisner was fatally wounded in the buttocks Saturday when he opened fire on Arkansas police at the end of a medium-speed chase triggered by the killing of a small town elderly police officer. Moments before he was killed, police said Eisner killed his passenger, a female friend who may or may not have molested him while he was a minor.

Eisner carried a small "arsenal" of weapons as he fled a gun-and-hatchet ass whipping at Puzzles Lounge in New Bedford on Thursday, authorities said. A butter knife was found outside the lounge, and investigators also found 85 rounds of ammunition for a BB gun, a cheap Samurai sword, one Chinese throwing star and two small limestone rocks in Eisner's room at his home, a police report released Monday said.

"It was shocking that he could get his hands on such weaponry," local detective Pete Flashew-Lance said. "He could've put someone's eye out with those BBs."

Walsh said he believes Eisner left the note in his bedroom after the attack at Puzzles Lounge but before he left on a 1,500-mile journey to Arkansas in his pink and green Pontiac. The contents of the note were only partially released, but appear to be some sort of terrorist rant. They are as follows:

"Well, you came and you gave without taking
But I sent you away oh, Mandy
Well, you kissed me and stopped me from shaking
And I need you today Oh, Mandy
You came and you gave without taking
But I sent you away oh, Mandy
Well, you kissed me and stopped me from shaking
And I need you"

According to police, Eisner shot and killed officer Jim Sell during a traffic stop Saturday afternoon in Gassville, Arkansas after the officer commented on Eisner's pink sequined pants.

Sell's police cruiser video camera taped the conversation in which he can be heard commenting on Eisner's pants.

"Boy, what the hell are you wearin'? You planning on being a contestant on American Idol or something? You look like a gay Elvis Presley!"

Sell then began to laugh hysterically before the sound of a gunshot can be heard and Sell is seen falling to the ground as Eisner speeds away.

After a 20-mile chase to Norfork, Eisner shot and killed his passenger, Jennifer Rena Bailey, 33, and pointed a gun at pursuing officers, who shot him twice in the buttocks as he attempted to moon the officers at high speed. Eisner died Sunday in a Springfield, Mo., hospital after being accidentally left in a hallway where he bled to death while nurses watched "Medium" on the television.

"We just forgot about him and then we couldn't find him," a nurse who refused to give her name said. "Someone had pushed him over into a corner where we never go and we just forgot. But how tragic for that man on Medium who was getting his MRI, you know, to have been a serial killer and then to be shot in the head and forget and not know. I mean, he was going to kill Jade when she was a prostitute and then he ended up married to her and didn't remember and all the while she knew everything. It was just so sad."

Officers were checking e-mails and Internet correspondence between Eisner and Bailey, and hoped to scan surveillance tapes at stores and gas stations to determine whether the West Virginia woman went willingly or as a hostage.

Eisner lived in West Virginia with Bailey, a mother of three boys, from sometime in 2004 to February 2005, West Virginia State Police Sgt. C.J. Ellyson said Monday.

"We're trying to trace down their steps and find out when they hooked up, if she invited him over willingly or if she was abducted," Ellyson said.

A friend of Bailey's, Craig Dickinson, believed the woman was abducted.

"She would never ride with a man wearing those ridiculous pink sequined pants and listening to Manilow," he said in a phone interview from West Virginia with The Associated Press. "I will guarantee she did not know what happened in Massachusetts and that he had those pants on before she got into the car."

Bailey ended her relationship with Eisner once she realized how badly he dressed, Dickinson said. "This was not some type of Bonnie-and-Clyde episode. She did not go to Arkansas of her own free will with a man in pink sequined pants," he said.

There was no sign of forced entry at Bailey's home and no evidence of a struggle, which police believe the boy would have lost seeing as he got his butt kicked by some old gay men in Boston, West Virginia State Police Sgt. Jay Powers said Monday. Powers said her three children were with her mother.

Walsh said he would send investigators to Arkansas and he also wanted to find out how Eisner obtained a gun so he could charge somebody for that and keep his face on the TV news as long as possible. Handgun owners in Massachusetts must be at least 21, gay, female, and pay a hefty bribe to the sheriff in the form of either crack or heroin.

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Gay Boston Bar Boy Blasted by Cops in Arkansas

MOUNTAIN HOME, Ark. (Parody) - An alleged attack at an alleged Massachusetts gay bar/teachers lounge, the killing of an Arkansas officer connected with the Clintons and the slaying of a 33 year old woman who apparently had a sexual relationship with the underaged suspect — Jacob D. Eisner, left a streak of unexplained Disney-like violence that ended in a fatal shootout with authorities.

Eisner, 18, was mortally wounded when he opened fire on officers following a chase through the Arkansas hills at speeds in excess of 90 mph, which is almost as fast as most people drive on a regular basis in larger cities like Birmingham and Houston. He was shot twice in the buttocks while mooning police and later died at a hospital Sunday.

Authorities say Eisner left behind three allegedly homosexual men wounded in a hatchet-and-gun attack in the Massachusetts gay teachers lounge/disco/pool hall and two people dead in Arkansas: a 63-year-old officer, and a passenger in Eisner's car, whom he had apparently met over the Internet, but fucked in person.

Police are considering charging Eisner with a hate crime for the shooting of the police officer on the grounds that police hate people who shoot police officers.

Police are also considering charging Eisner with a hate crime for the shooting of his female passenger because the feminists have the wealthiest and most powerful political lobby in the entire United States and especially in Massachusetts, which is one of their main headquarters and has the second highest population of lesbians after New York City. Third highest is Connecticut.

"They even changed the statue of Lady Liberty that used to stand outside our courthouse," a Massachusetts federal judge who wished to remain anonymous said. "They replaced it with a statue of what appears to be a short-haired lesbian in a pantsuit holding a dead baby and a pair of severed testicles. We've been trying to figure out for years if the testicles are supposed to be the baby's or someone else's, but sure as hell no one is going to ask them. They're all psychos."

The Massachusetts feminists want Eisner charged with a hate crime even though there is no evidence that he shot his passenger for being a woman. It is expected that they will get what they want despite the lack of evidence simply because they always do.

Also adding to the difficulty in charging Eisner with hate crimes is the apparently overlooked detail of his death.

"Well, he's dead you know," Arkansas prosecutor Melamar Opie stated, "so we're not quite sure the purpose of charging him with all of these special political crimes, but if that's what they want and they have all this power and money I figure what the hell? I'll charge him with a hate crime for being rude to his mother if they tell me to. Screw it, I'm not messing with their political machine."

"This is insane," said Heather Voltaire, 22, admitted lesbian of Fall River, Mass., who had known Eisner, a high school dropout and pudgy, poorly dressed loser, for a year. "That kid never so much as raised his voice at me and I'm both gay and female. Now they want me to say he's a hater ... This is all pretty much a shock to me, like everyone else, and I want to know what is up with those refs in the fuckin' Superbowl?! That was just total bullshit! They sucked big-time. Mother fuckers!"

Authorities had sought Eisner since a Thursday morning attack at the Puzzles Lounge in New Bedford, Mass., that left three girly men wounded, one critically.

Eisner's friends said they didn't know him to hold animosity toward homosexuals or Democrats in general, though police investigators said he dabbled in Barry Manilowism. Friends did indicate that Eisner hated teachers, something the police ignored completely. Instead, police labeled the attack a hate crime in order to gain federal money and media attention and sought Eisner for attempted murder, assault and civil rights charges, as well as crimes against fashion for his pink sequined pants.

"Those pants," officer Franks said in an official statement, "are a crime against nature."

Eisner next surfaced when he shot and killed Gassville police officer Jim Sell, an Arkansas police officer once tied to the Clinton scandals in the 1990s, which triggered a 20-mile chase from Gassville to Norfork as deputies and state troopers fired shotguns and tasers at Eisner's car. Spike strips and Arkansas' infamously bad roads finally slowed Eisner's green and pink Pontiac to around 30 mph.

"The tires were deflating — at least two of the tires were now running on rims," Arkansas State Police spokesman Bill Sadler said. "It was apparent he was losing control of that God-awful ugly vehicle."

Before the final exchange, officers had a clear view of Eisner and his passenger, Jane "Cradle Robber" Bailey, 33, of Charleston, W.Va., after Eisner's car spun nearly 180 degrees, crashing into a pair of parked cars.

Arkansas police issued Eisner a ticket for hitting the parked cars.

"We don't take kindly to those kind of shananigans around here," officer Tim Fleck said of the ticket he issued to Eisner for the collision. "Failure to maintain control of a vehicle is just as serious as anything else he done."

"Investigators now believe Eisner raised a handgun to the head of Bailey, fired, missed, fired again, missed again, fired again and this time it is believed she was killed instantly by that gunshot," Sadler said. "Eisner was a damned lousy shot, but when he raised that same handgun and fired on the officers who were present at the scene, even though he obviously couldn't hit the side of a barn, the officers quite rightly returned fire. And we apparently shoot better than he did. Also, he was mooning us as he fired, which just really pissed us off."

West Virginia State Police said Bailey apparently had corresponded with Eisner over the Internet and in letters, and that Eisner had picked her up after the Massachusetts attack. Authorities were investigating whether Bailey went willingly with Eisner or was abducted.

"It's just hard to believe," West Virginia officer Tupac said, "that a woman, pedophile or not, would willingly ride with a boy wearing pink sequined pants and playing Barry Manilow music over the car stereo. We can't believe anyone would willingly get into a car with all that going on."

Three of Eisner's friends from a home page the teen created on the Web site MySpace.com told The Associated Press that Bailey was Eisner's ex-girlfriend. They said the couple had lived together in West Virginia. Bailey was either divorced or separated from her husband.

"She liked'em young," Bailey's ex-husband who declinded to give his name said. "I had just turned 25, so she felt I was gettin' too old. She's likes them young boys."

It appeared Sell had no idea that he had pulled over the Massachusetts suspect while working a speed trap on the east side of Gassville as Eisner headed westbound into town. The pink and green Pontiac bore personalized Kentucky plates that said "BIOTCH."

"The only information they had is what had happened at Gassville to the officer there," Lt. Bill Beach, a criminal investigator for the state police. "It wasn't until after the pursuit had terminated that they were able to identify the suspect and his pink sequined pants."

New Bedford investigators had been in contact with West Virginia authorities before Saturday's gunfight, but police spokesman Capt. Richard Spirlet declined to provide details.

"New Bedford officers bet on the Steelers and West Virginia officers went with the Seahawks," Capt. Spirlet admitted. "That's really all I have to say about that."

Bob Perry, one of the Massachusetts bar patrons attacked, said before Eisner's death that he was hopeful the gunman would survive — if only to explain his actions.

"I'd like him to be able to regain consciousness and answer some questions," Perry said Saturday. "What the hell was he thinking wearing those pants? Was all of this really just because we got him drunk and made him dance to YMCA? I have so many questions."

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Superbowl XL and Other Random Thoughts

I watched the Superbowl last night. I don't strongly like or dislike either the Seahawks or the Steelers. I have cheered for both on different occasions. Last night it was clear that the Seahawks were stronger than the Steelers. Even the announcers were saying so by halftime. The one thing the Steelers had going for them of great significance was the referees.

3 bad calls, and all in critical situations that killed Seattle's momentum and even took points off the board, altered the outcome of the game. Seattle had a touchdown called back for a non-offense. Pushing off, the refs said. And the TV announcers, 3 former NFL players and a lifetime sportscaster, all agreed it was a bullshit call. The result was a field goal. The other 2 missed field goals should not have even been necessary. A holding call that wasn't holding, sending them back 10 yards, out of range. A 15 yard penalty for "blocking below the waist" because the Seattle quarterback tackled the ballcarrier at the knees. Total bullshit, and again, the announcers even said as much, which they try not to do because the networks don't want people to feel that the game was a sham. But it was.

As for the Steelers' touchdown where the refs said the quarterback crossed the line, that was a tough call no matter what, but it looked like the ball crossed the front of the white line while he was in the air and that was as far as it got. If that's a touchdown then the call was legit.

I hate bad refs. I hate them with a passion. I don't care what sport it is, I hate bad refs. They're like activist judges who violate the Constitution by making up new laws or invalidate legitimate laws to suit their own unlawful whims. They destroy all credibility. They destroy faith in the process. They make organized sports and civilization itself impossible to maintain. They make revolt necessary.

It's too bad the refs for the Superbowl sucked so badly. It could have been a better game. Pittsburgh got their running game going in the second half, but only after Seattle had been hamstrung by the bad referees. Who knows how the game would have gone if it had been handled by competent refs?

It's snowing/sleeting here right now. It's not expected to stick or accumulate. My ass is dragging and I have a lot of work to do. I need to research some issues and I really have no idea at this point what is wrong with the system. How do you tell your customers "I have no idea" and not get into trouble? It's too bad I'm not a politician right now or I would know better how to stall. Whatever is wrong, it's a problem. Now how in the hell do I fix it?

I worked on the scene that the Movie Man wants last night. It's more or less done, but I don't know why I've had so much trouble focusing on this. I used to be really good at this kind of thing. I need to finish up the ending and then I'll send it to him. I had 2 endings, but I think I may just go with one of them that I think has the best twist. It's more final. I don't know how to explain that.

My head is spinning and I keep typing because there was something else I had wanted to say, but now I can't remember what it was. I guess I'm thinking if I just keep writing it will eventually fall out, but so far I've had no luck with that.

I need to go visit Avery's blog. Since she works in the NFL and was sitting next to an NFL player at the game itself I'd be curious to hear what she thought about the game and the refs' calls.

And what's the story with the Lingerie Bowl? Did anyone watch this? Are they legitimately beating the hell out of each other trying to win this game? I found a photo of The Chicago Bears' William Perry running with the ball and the women trying to tackle him. WTF? Was this game any good?


Oh, one thing I forgot to mention - The Mother In Law called us 50 fucking times during the Superbowl! Every fucking minute the phone was ringing and it was her, with stupid, useless shit including: How do I work my answering machine? Your Brother's white trash pig of a wife has been calling Your Sister trying to win her over to her side against you. There are houses for sale in my neighborhood that you could live in so I can run your life better. How's it going? And many, many more!

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A Quiz I Stole From Stacy the Peanut Queen

I just flat out stole this. Stacy said she didn't care so I'm not even gonna lie about it.

1. Do you still talk to the person you lost your virginity to?
I'm a doormat. I still talk to every single one of my ex-girlfriends if they contact me. That's not to say I'm happy to hear from all of them, but I'll talk to them.

2. What would you do with 1,000 plastic spoons?
Plastic spoon art! I see a giant sculpture forming in my mind right now.

3. What kind of music did you listen to in elementary school?
It depended on whose room I was in. Keep in mind I'm the last of 5 kids and my oldest sister is 10 years older than me. I listened to something dramatically different in each room of the house. If it was my room it was The Monkees or anything I had inherited, like "Stir It Up" by Johnny Nash on a 45 that someone was gonna throw out, and "Hot Rod Lincoln" by Commander Cody. But if I went around to my brother and sisters' rooms I listened to: Hank Williams Sr, Neil Diamond, Peter Frampton, or Pink Floyd. And yes, that's in order from my oldest sister down to my youngest brother, so if you know who my brother and sisters are then you can guess who was playing what. Oh, and let's not forget Dad and his Earth-shaking stereo system with the 20 inch horn. He liked bagpipes cranked all the way up. Otherwise he'd listen to big band or country and inflict it on all of us as he pleased.

4. What is the best thing about your current job?
I'm not unemployed.

5. Do you wish cell phone etiquette was required?
In traffic? Yes. Hang up and drive or snap on a hands-free, dumbass. Otherwise I don't really care. I don't talk on a cellphone any more often than I can help. Can you hear me now? Just barely, dude.

6. Are you against same sex marriage?
I'm against judges making the decision and then lying and saying it's required by the Constitution. It isn't. If the voters decide to change the rules then so be it. But don't let some unelected judge shove it down our throats. I don't even care what the decision specifically relates to. I just don't like having arrogant asshole judges shoving bullshit on me and then lying to me about why they did it. That's called getting buttfucked and as I'm not into that I don't care much for it. Let the people decide.

7. Have you been on a date in the past week?
Yeah, we went out on my birthday in the pouring rain and we had a good time.

8. Where are you going on your next vacation?
Don't know yet. We had thought we were going to Seattle to see My Wife's Brother and his White Trash Wife, but after the way she acted in our home that's out. So probably Florida.

9. Quote a song lyric:
"Hey babe, what's in your eyes? I saw them flashing like airplane lights. You fill my cup up, and that's for sure. And I must come back, for a little more. You've got my heart. You've got my soul. You've got the silver, you've got the gold. You've got the diamonds from the mine. Well, that's alright, it'll buy some time. "

10. Are most of the friends in your life new or old?
Most of the friends in my life are far away and from long ago. We keep in touch on the internet, those of us that still talk much. The rest I see from time to time when I visit home. But if we move far from my hometown I may never visit there again. The rest of my friends I only know from the internet and they are all relatively new.

11. Do you own any furniture from Ikea?
Um, no. Why? Were you looking to borrow some or something? What kind of funky question is this? Do you own any underwear from KMart? Seriously, why ask this?

12. Do you like your parents?
Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. Doesn't matter though, 'cause they'll always be my parents. Nothing can change that.

13. Do you still live with them?
No, no, oh hell no!

14. What state/country are you from?
Alabama, in a little island in which no one else was from there and had all been imported to work for the government as engineers and teachers. Little did I realize that we were nothing like the rest of the state.

15. Tell us about the last conversation you had?
These people keep complaining that they can't access these reports with data from today. They're month end reports. They won't even generate until Saturday night. Yeah, I know. Well, that's what I told them. Geez, we're gonna be flooded with this shit all day. Yeah, I know. Shit. Dumb fuckers.

16. Where do you see yourself in one month?
Sitting in this chair, still worrying over the same stuff, still trying to figure out the same stuff, still stuck in Memphis and in this same cubical. But you never really know, though, do you?

17. What is your favorite smell?
I can't hardly smell a damned thing so just about anything that can penetrate my sinuses and register in my brain is good to me. Skunk or peppermint, it all comes across as the same for me.

18. What happened to #18???
I'm really tired of these stupid quizzes with one missing question that asks what happened to the missing question, as if we're supposed to know. I usually make something up to fill the missing spot, so I guess that's what I'm gonna do here, too:

18. Why the hell do you fill out all these stupid quizzes and then expect people to read them?
I'm a smartass. I like giving smartass answers to totally pointless questions. I don't know why. I learned it from My Dad. But he's not as funny as he used to be, he just doesn't know it.

19. Do you consider yourself bi-polar?
What, like having sex with both male and female polar bears? That's just freaky as shit. Hell no, I'm not crazy. They'd tear me up the minute I climbed into the cage. But boy would they be soft, wouldn't they? But no! No way! Soft or not, I'm not doing that.

20. What is the time and the outside temperature?
It's 11:12 a.m. and 56 degrees and what the hell possible good can this information do for you?!

21. Have you ever done anything vindictive to your coworkers?
Not that I can recall. I did once work with a certified psychopath named Robbie. I watched him do vindictive shit every single day, but he just enjoys hurting people. It's what he gets up in the morning for. I don't have the slightest respect for him or people like him so I don't want to be like that.

22. Have you ever gone to therapy?
What kind of therapy? I went to knee therapy for months after I tore my ACL and had to have it replaced. It wasn't a lot of fun. I mean, I don't recommend it if you can avoid it, the tearing of the ACL part, I mean. There was a Memphis cop in there with the exact same injury and going through the same therapy as me. She was a total wimp. I couldn't believe it.

23. Have you ever Played Spin the Bottle?
Not that I can recall. Truth or dare was more popular in my neighborhood.

24. Have you ever Toilet papered someone's house?
Oh hell yes. I even blogged about it the last time. Good old Evan, he's got the perfect trees for it and the darkest yard you ever did see. You're never too old to TP someone. And we did John Jackson's house back in college. And some girl's house, I didn't even know her but I was running with a wild gang, a bunch of outlaw Baptists and we were on a tear. Yeah, TP gangs that form in Sunday School are the most dangerous.

25. Have you ever liked someone but never told them?
Well yes, I think that was the majority of my life's experiences, liking some girl and never telling her. This is one of those big "if I could go back in time and do it over" things that I would change.

26. Have you ever gone camping?
Yes, when I was about 13 or 14 I did several times. One time I fell asleep on my stomach while camping and woke up at about 5 a.m. to a wet dream. Man, that was a surprise! I apparently humped the ground and it was good. Had to throw my underwear away.

27. Have you ever had a crush on your sibling's friend?
No, can't think of a single time that ever happened.

28. Have you ever been to a nude beach?
No, but I've been to some ugly beaches. Yeah, that's where everyone there is ugly and you want to go somewhere else.

29. Have you ever had sex on the beach?
No, not the drink and not the act. Nope. Never have.

30. Have you ever had a stalker?
Trying to remember. I've had some really freaky girls who wouldn't leave me alone or go away, and one of them attacked me, but I don't believe I've ever had some show up outside my window or anything. At least not that I knew about.

31. Have you ever gone skinny dipping?
Can't recall. Probably not.

32. Have you ever laughed so hard you cried?
Yes, many times. Have you ever laughed so hard you peed? That's what you should've asked.

33. Have you ever gone to a party where you were the only sober one?
Yes, and I don't recommend it. Unless you've got a video camera and a mission.

34. Have you ever been cheated on?
Yes, and it wasn't much fun. I would highly recommend the NOT being cheated on if you can work it. The other just sucks.

35. Have you ever had sex with one of your opposite sex friends?
Sorta, if fumbling around half naked counts. But if you define sex the way Bill Clinton does then probably 'no.' Then again, he changes definitions at will so maybe I should say 'yes and no.'

36. Have you ever felt betrayed by your best friend?
Yes, but as I've gotten older I've realized that I used to be much too generous with the term 'friend' anyway. Lots of the people I hung out with were not my friend and never really thought of me as their friend in the first place. I just didn't know it at the time.

37. Have you ever felt like you were just completely rhino raped?
Yes, I've been rhino raped as often as anyone I know. And it doesn't get easier over time. Damn those rhinos!

38. Have you ever lied to your parents?
What would have been the point? They never listened to what I was telling them in the first place. I stayed out drunk and drag racing until 4 or 5 a.m. and then came home trashed and they just didn't care to know. It was like living with really bitchy roommates who paid all the bills. And when I was little I remember getting punished for things I didn't even do just because it was easier for them to punish me than to figure out who did it and punish them. You know, I'm sure I lied to them about something, but as I think about this question I can't think of a single time I just stood there and lied my ass off to them. But you have to understand, I come from a really dysfunctional, fucked up family.

39. Have you ever been out of the US?
Yeah, I was trying to stalk Binsk, but I got lost in Ontario and then I saw this waterfall and it distracted me. Then they made me go home because I climbed the rail and peed into the water. I mean, what's the big deal? It's all water. And one other time I went on a cruise. We started off in Puerto Rico, which thinks it's part of the U.S., but it's not. From there we went to various islands that spoke either funky English, Spanish, or French.

40. Have you ever thrown up from working out?
Oh yes. When I ran cross country in high school I ended every single race my freshman year with a nice big puke. If I didn't puke I felt like I hadn't run hard enough at the end. But I did have one hell of a kick at the end, that's for damn sure. You could beat me for 2.9 miles and I'd blow you away that last 100 yards and then puke across the finish line you still had to cross. Take that, sucka! And then there was this one time at the gym, but that was much less glorious. I was just laying in the floor white as a ghost and one of the trainers came over and asked me, "are you dead?"

41. Have you ever gotten a haircut so bad that you wore a hat?
I have it right now.

42. Have you ever eaten 3 meals from 3 different fast food locations? In a day?
Probably while on the road from Alabama to Texas when I was a kid. And I think several trips in high school and college I probably did. But it's not my favorite thing to do, by any means. Too much fast food turns my guts inside out. There is something they put in it, I don't know what it is, but it'll make me really, really sick if I get too much built up inside me.

43. Have you ever gotten so wasted you didn't know what was going on?
Uuhhh, what? Me? Ummm, well, yes. But sometimes that's the whole point to getting wasted in the first place.

44. Have you ever spied on someone you had a crush on?
I used to bicycle all the way over to Adrienne Kump's house and just do laps around her block hoping she'd come out. Eventually she did and we talked, but she never liked me like I liked her so it was just a lot of exercise for nothing. And then her father pulled my shoulder out of socket, which was dumb because then I couldn't bike home and I was stuck there. Dumbass. I was like 12 years old. What was the point of that?!

45. Have you ever slept with one of your coworkers?
Yes, but we were already married to each other. Pooya!~Bet you didn't see that coming!

46. Have you ever seen your best friend naked?
Yeah, I think I've seen all of my closest friends naked at one time or another. But since I'm not gay it does nothing for me. Oh, and recently I saw several of my friends wives naked, too. Thanks Kelly, Sam, and Jennifer, that was great! And I really mean that.

OK, so that's it. I think some people doing this are tagging other people to do it, but Stacy didn't so I won't either. I'm just a big copycat.

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