Loonies on the Path - XLIX part 2 - Raging continued

Alright, I had just documented how the arctic blast of winter had been replaced with a warm front that felt almost Springlike here in the southern United States of Crazy, when suddenly the cold wintry temperatures briefly returned. And with them, the calm, cozy, my-heater-is-on-and-making-me-sleepy driving habits of a coffee-addicted people. In short, everything returned to normal.

Then the warm front returned.

This morning the weather was freezing. Everything was fine on the way into work. By noon the temperatures had risen over 20 degrees and the sun was shining brightly. Once again, no coats were needed and the birds were singing happily. It felt nice outside. There are blue skies and puffy white clouds overhead. Sexy Olympic women are on the TV wearing body-hugging clothing that shows off every womanly curve as they fly through the air at 90 mph across the snow, demonstrating with their unequaled viewer ratings why the women's NBA will never succeed on its own without blackmailed corporate training wheels unless they change their uniforms to something tighter and sexier that shows the world "sure we can't dunk like the men, but we look good trying."

Canadian gold
Sex on ice

Surely this lovely weather will inspire friendliness and peaceably coexisting on the highways, right?

Oh hell no! People are once again raging out there. I had an old fucker in a crimson Chrysler with a "Roll Tide" sticker on the rear window cut me off in the far right-hand lane. I was already going slow, looking for my gym, so I didn't care. But that wasn't what he wanted. No, he WANTED me to care. So he glared at me in his rear view mirror and jumped on his brakes.

Roll Tide and fuck you

Dude, I'm 5 car lengths behind you. I don't give a fuck. Seriously.

I assumed he was looking for his turn. Sure, he didn't turn on a blinker, but you know how people are. Morons never signal. So I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

He didn't turn.

Once I realized he did that for my benefit I decided to get rid of the shit head in the usual way. I passed him and got back over, now in front of him, but still a good 30 yards ahead. This should be of no concern to him if he's a sane, rational human being.

He came after me.

Realizing that he had hit his brakes purely to fuck with me, and being unaccustomed to being this warm, I got mad. When I saw the turn for my side-street, I put on my blinker, turned onto my dead-end street, and as I drove towards my gym at the end of the road I saluted him.

You know what I mean. I raised my hand inside my car, aimed in his general direction, and I showed him my finger. Yes, yes, I'm fucking 18-years-old today.

Nevertheless, had he been driving along like a normal person, he wouldn't have even seen my salute. He should have been looking at the traffic ahead and all around him, not at some guy driving away down a side street. But if he was an asshat looking for a fight with me then you know all of his attention would be focused on me for daring to pass him and escape. And thus he would have seen my very friendly one-finger salute.

After I saluted him, he whipped his car 90 degrees off the main road and onto the street behind me. I say 'whipped' but keep in mind he was only going 40 mph so it was more of a slow-motion turn. But to him I'm sure it was exciting.

Anyway, he came after me down the dead-end street which he apparently didn't know was a dead-end street. And I continued on to my gym. At the end of the street, I turned into the parking lot of my gym, got out, and stood there waiting for Mr. Asshat to pull in and try to explain to my foot why he felt outraged at me for passing and saluting him.

Once he realized it was a dead-end and we were going to meet, he lost his nerve. He stopped at the entrance to the parking lot and just sat there staring at me. I stood outside my car, holding my gym bag, and invited him to come join me. While this was going on, one of the guys I sometimes work out with, who stands about 6'4" and is rather thick with muscle, came out and walked towards me as he headed to his car.

"Hey Memphis, what's up?" he smiled and asked. He always smiles when he sees me because when we first met I was in the midst of a joke-off and I had told him and everyone else in the gym every single joke I know, with promises that I would be back armed with even more.

"Nothing much," I replied, "just coming for a workout. Hey, watch out for that old man in that Chrysler there. He's got his panties in a wad and he's looking for someone to screw with in traffic," I said pointing to the Crimson Fucker. Apparently the old fart didn't want any attention drawn to him, like most passive/aggressives, because when my friend turned to look at where I was pointing, Crimson Fucker took off.

I say 'took off' but keep in mind he's old so it was like that Toyota sudden acceleration thing where the driver is sort of vaguely aware that they are continuously speeding up without meaning to.

That's Ms. Bitch to you, bucko!

So anyway, after my workout, I showered and headed back. The weather was warmer than ever. The other day, with the first warm front, every single car on the road seemed to be controlled by a raging lunatic. But today is different. Today it is only the passive/aggressives who seem to be still experiencing the madness of wanting to kill every other person on the road including their own grand-kids who just turned 16 and like to drive fast.

I got stuck behind a woman in a gray Chevy pickup truck driving slow in the passing lane. She sat herself beside a gray Toyota Prius and parked there, matching whatever speed the Prius was doing so that they would remain side-by-side and no one could get anywhere. She was also talking on her cell phone as she was doing this. And she had a kid in a child restraint device tied up in the backseat of the extended cab. I was stuck behind her so I waited for her to speed up or get over. In fact, I waited a damn long time. But she was clearly not interested in allowing anyone to get anywhere, so I flashed my brights one time.

"Blah blah blah" she continued talking on her cell phone and ignoring me. I say 'ignoring' but as she was clearly fully aware of the speed the Toyota next to her was going, at least enough to make sure she stayed right next to him, obviously she was aware of what was around her and what she was doing.

So I flashed my brights again. Still no reaction from her. I was waiting a long, long time between flashes just to make sure she had every possible opportunity to not be a cancerous polyp in the ass of traffic. Once it became clear that this was no accident, I flashed several times in a row, and then began considering my horn. Meanwhile, she slowed slightly so that I was suddenly right on her rear bumper. I allowed her to do this and stayed there, close enough that a person sitting on my hood could easily have placed one foot on my bumper and another on hers without pulling a groin muscle or anything.

Hey, if she doesn't love her truck I sure as hell don't care. I've signaled several times, as the law requires, that she's obstructing traffic. If she adds a collision to that I'm willing to involve the police so we can all have a group discussion of the various traffic laws, even the ones concerning how closely you can follow the vehicle in front of you. I find that when it comes right down to it, most passive/aggressive women really love their shiny vehicles and don't actually want them smashed. Men, when they get mad, they're more like "fuck the car, I'm not putting up with that shit!"

Eventually the Toyota realized what was going on and slowed suddenly. I took the resulting opening the instant it appeared and passed her on the right. She, predictably, sped up and came after me.

Here she comes, here comes Speed Racer! She's a demon on wheels ....

Just up the road, cruising along at a speed somewhat faster than she had been going, a police cruiser came up the on-ramp and merged into traffic. And suddenly Chevy Bitch didn't want to play anymore. She slowed down again and resumed her game of blocking the passing lane, confident that the police never enforce the law with regard to obstructing traffic and so she would be safe even with the presence of the cop. I continued on my way, exiting the highway and merging onto the interstate.

Instantly I encountered more passive/aggressives. But I had 6 lanes to work with so I quickly left most of them behind.

Then I encountered Mr. Dodge Minivan. I was coming up behind an 18-wheeler and needed to get over one lane to the right. Mr. Dodge was back well behind me, in the lane I was moving into. As soon as he saw me coming over he gunned his minivan and blocked me out. Not only did he block me out, but he remained there, making sure that I never got over.

Mr. Dodge Minivan

I was forced to pass the 18-wheeler on the left and then come over 3 lanes in order to get where I intended to be, which put me smack in front of Mr. Assdodge Minivan anyway, much to his apparent surprise and dismay.

I drove on aways, thinking about the utter pointlessness of what he'd done in blocking me out and nearly hitting me. And then I decided I was mad.

I took my foot off the gas and slowed down to let him catch up. He didn't want to catch up, so he took his foot off the gas and slowed down, too.

We did this for awhile. Normally this would be a problem on an interstate where the speed limit is 70 mph, but this town is Passive/Aggressive Hell, so no one thought anything of it. People went around us at 65, 60 and sometimes 55 mph, totally unconcerned with how slow any of us were going. We slowed to 50 and still he would not come near me. So I hit my brakes to slow enough that I could change lanes further to the right by passing behind the car next to me and moved over towards the exit ramp.

Mr. AssDodge, seeing me exiting, regained his manhood, such as it is, and began to speed back up again. But it was a long way to my off-ramp and he ended up next to me for a moment before he realized it. I looked long and hard at him. He stared straight ahead, dressed in his powder blue plaid button-down shirt and khaki pants, gray hair parted lamely on the side like something out of Revenge of the Nerds, refusing to even glance my way for fear that eye contact might make him instantly pee his pants.

I didn't salute him. I didn't honk. I didn't do or say anything. I just thought about the lessons that 15 years of living in Memphis, Tennessee, have taught me. White people really are a bunch of chickenshit cowards. I guess I understand now what my black friends have been trying to tell me. All he had to do was just make eye contact like a man. Sure, he was wrong, but he could look me in the eye and show me that wrong or not, he still had balls.

But he didn't have any balls. That's why he got stuck driving the Dodge minivan while his wife is probably driving the Hemi Charger.

Honey, you're not man enough for that car

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Loonies on the Path - XLIX - Raging

I began this series of blog posts for my own personal information. I was simply documenting odd changes in general behavior of the population as it correlated with weather, lunar or solar events, earthquakes, tornadoes, etc. For the past 2 months the Southern United States has been experiencing arctic weather. This winter in The South hasn't simply been cold, it has been Arctic blast cold. The freezing, snowing, sleeting, icy cold that would normally be dropping snow on Canada over the past 2 months has been dropping it on the Southern U.S. instead, causing quite a problem for the Vancouver Winter Olympics, as their snow is all melting and the temperatures hot enough to cause problems for the athletes up in beautiful British Columbia, where the women are as hot as the weather is cold, and the men are grateful.

Oh Canada!

Recently the record cold blast has abated. It was actually warm this weekend. The warm temperatures in winter have caused the expected result - rain. Today, a rotten, hated Monday, the work day began with the standard rush hour drive into work. Normally people are tired and calm, too groggy to cause much trouble or care about what is going on around them. But this morning the temperature is a balmy 50 degrees F, and the rain has created humidity. So, we're all sitting in our houses with the heat still on, wondering why we feel so warm all of a sudden, sweating as we're brushing our teeth, and sticky by the time we get into our cars to drive to work.

On the drive into work today, before I had even pulled out onto the highway to join the herd, I noticed some insanely aggressive behavior in traffic. People weren't simplyunwilling to let anyone pull out into traffic. No, they were swerving at people trying to pull out into traffic. "Try it, buddy, and I'll fucking kill you! ARRRRRRGH!"

Nevertheless, I managed to wheel myself out into the flow and join the loonies on the path. Instantly I observed that the flow of traffic seemed oddly halting, as we'd race forward, only to all jump on our brakes and slow to a crawl, then race ahead again. Everyone was piled up together. There was no space between cars to spread the traffic out. We were bunched like a group of 8 year olds in a soccer match all leaving our positions to go for the ball, clumped in the center of the field with no one playing defense.


I had a Jeep Wagoneer flying up on my ass, clearly angry that I had managed to pull out into traffic ahead of them,  tailgating me to let me know this fact, as if I cared or had in any way wronged them. I was going faster than everyone else, except for the Jeep riding my ass. But he had sped up to do that, so I figured "fuck him." I tried to shake him off by crossing from the far right lane, 3 lanes over into the passing lane. Seeing as we were flying anyway I figured the passing lane was where I wanted to be. He followed me, of course.

I found myself stuck behind a full-sized long-bed 4-door Chevy pickup truck. Everyone was riding the ass of the person in front of them and bunched all around me. 3 lanes of no one getting ahead had me boxed in between the Jeep and the Chevy, so I decided to just stay there. I noticed the Chevy having to hit his brakes a lot. I saw him swerve to the side slightly the way people do when they want to show up in the driver's door mirror of the car in front of them, as if to say "hey you jackass, speed up or get over!" This was precisely what he was saying, in fact.

After much halting progress, slow, fast, slow, fast, I noticed the traffic to my right open up slightly. Just as it did the woman in the tiny car blocking the passing lane and the Chevy in front of me whipped her wheel to the right, flying across the next lane and going onto the shoulder, nearly crashing off the road into the ditch. Then she whipped back to the left and sort of settled into the right-hand lane. The Chevy in front of me quickly sped past her before the crazy, erratic woman could change her mind and whip back over again. I began to move past her as well, expecting to see the usual cell phone attached to her face, explaining everything about her erratic driving. But as I passed her I saw no cell phone. She had both hands on the wheel and was glaring straight ahead, wishing death for all the cars around her.

Sooooo, you drive that shitty normally, eh? No cell phone? Wow, you really suck at driving!

You suck at driving

Further down the road there was more of this sort of thing, crazy people doing crazy things with no apparent reason for it.

By the time I merged onto the Interstate, the Chevy was getting irritated with me behind him. I wasn't riding that close, but on this particular day everyone seemed to be just a little too close. He changed lanes one to the left. I let him go and stayed in the far right lane. But I quickly ran into a jerk going extraordinarily slow and thus needed to get over. Unfortunately, the car in the lane next to him was also going extraordinarily slow. In fact, they were both driving side-by-side going the exact same speed. Fuckers!

wife and finger

As I changed lanes to get past the 2 rolling road blocks, I noticed that all 6 lanes appeared to be blocked by shitheads driving side-by-side all doing roughly the same speed. There was no rhyme or reason to it. There was nothing similar about the drivers to make me think they were intentionally working together to screw us all. There was just a dazed, hazy look on their faces and a general slowness about them that said "Zombies."

By this point, the humidity and frustration of dealing with a pack of elderly asshats was beginning to get to me. I went all the way over the far left lane, the passing lane, and began applying subtle pressure on the zombie blocking that lane, squeezing between him and the zombie who had been next to him just as he crept barely far enough ahead to make room for me to fit. And I do mean 'barely.' There wasn't room for a bird to fly between either bumper as I moved around them. But knowing Zombie Drivers as I do, I knew that if I hesitated for even an instant, the car to my right would instinctively creep forward and block me from getting over, maintaining the 6-lane rolling roadblock and causing me to roll down my passenger side window and communicate to him my feelings on the matter using sign language and a little creative shouting. I managed to avoid all of this and fly on ahead of them.

As I pulled away from the Zombies and instantly encountered more oddly angry drivers, the pattern began to come clear in my mind. Everyone on the road here today, in this unexpected heat and humidity, is RAGING. People aren't just a little bit pissy. People aren't in a daze. People are furious. Some are handling it by doing exactly the speed limit and refusing to budge an inch. Some are going well below the speed limit in the passing lane, on the interstate, enjoying the anger they're causing in the drivers around them. Some are running up the tail of the car in front of them and threatening to kill anyone who doesn't get out of their way. Some are passing on the shoulders.


I was relieved by the time I got to work. It's Monday and work is the last place I thought I wanted to be. But traffic was so bad that I was actually glad to reach the parking lot alive. I was pretty pissed off by the time I got there. So I sat in my car with the radio on letting my blood pressure drop for a few minutes before turning off the engine and walking inside.

Once at my desk I was immediately greeted by an error message from Microsoft telling me that Excel had crashed. My browser had crashed long ago and was nowhere to be seen. The CPU was jacked up even though I hadn't started working yet. Yep, it's Monday. Fucking Microsoft.

Arrrrrrgh MICROSOFT!

And now for a fun video I stole from the Reluctant Optimist, who stole it from TheoGeo:

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I suppose at some point some of you expect me to blog about this. For those that know me in real life, you know why I might be inclined to write about this. And for those of you that don't, I'm going to try to make this short and to the point. I don't have a lot to say. I was less than 10 minutes away from the University at the moment the mass murders occurred. The following is what I have to say about this whole thing. Any facts that I get wrong, are purely accidental.

In 1986, Amy Bishop, a 19-year-old Massachusetts radical feminist, hardcore leftist and daughter of a woman on the police policy review board, flew into a rage, grabbed the family shotgun and fired it into the ceiling, then the wall, and then into the chest of her younger brother, killing him. After murdering her violinist brother in cold blood, she ran down the street aiming the shotgun at passing cars and demanding that they stop. No one did, so she ran into a car dealership, aimed the gun at the mechanics working there and lied, "I'm running from my abusive husband. He's going to kill me. Give me a car or I'll kill you." The mechanics stood in shock, not responding, so she rifled through the cabinet where the keys were kept, grabbed some keys, and ran out onto the lot to find a car. The police arrived, took the gun from her and arrested her.

That night, the chief of police, a business associate of Amy Bishop's politically connected and socially 'progressive' mother, called the station and ordered that Amy be released without being charged. No satisfactory explanation was ever given for why this was done.

11 days later, nearly 2 weeks after the murder, police went to the Bishop home to ask for an explanation as to what happened. They were told Amy fired the shotgun "by accident" and did not mean to kill her young, quiet, very talented violinist-playing brother. Nothing more was ever asked and no charges were ever filed.

A few years later, while Amy was at Harvard working on her doctorate, a Jewish professor who had been particularly critical of Amy's work received a fully functional bomb in the mail. He only partially opened the deadly package before realizing what it was and calling the police. The bomb did not explode and was disarmed by the police. No one was ever charged, but Amy Bishop and her husband were suspects and were both questioned about the bombing.

While still in Massachusetts, during the period Amy was working on her doctorate, Amy entered an International House of Pancakes with her husband and child. She demanded a booster seat for her child, but was told that a woman had just taken the last one. The waitress pointed to the woman as she said this. Amy stormed over to the woman, whose child was sitting in the seat, screamed and cursed at her, "I'm Amy Bishop from Harvard!" Then she punched the woman in the head.

The woman filed charges against the apparently insane and raving Amy Bishop, but the judge refused to punish Amy for reasons never explained. Amy was let go and her record expunged after only 6 months, a relatively unheard of action considering the violent and unprovoked nature of her offense.

I'm Amy Bishop, bitch!

Amy Bishop was hired to teach biology at the University of Alabama in Huntsville, a well-known research-focused college with close ties to NASA and U.S. Army Missile Command. Amy was not a very popular professor, nor considered overly talented by most of her students. The one thing students most noted about her was how often she bragged that she had attended Harvard. It was almost as if she couldn't teach an entire class period without reminding everyone of this fact. Nevertheless, it did nothing to improve her teaching, which was apparently not especially good.

Amy applied for tenure, but was denied. She appealed, and was again denied. She responded to the second denial by pulling out a handgun and shooting Gopi K. Podila, chair of the Department of Biological Sciences, in the head. She then coldly and without emotion went down the length of the conference table shooting professors Maria Ragland Davis and Adriel Johnson in the head. After shooting 6 professors she pointed the gun at a 7th and pulled the trigger, but the gun jammed.

Harvard-educated Amy Bishop had bought a cheap, shitty gun.

Before she could clear the jam and continue the massacre, the woman she had been trying to shoot, along with the other still uninjured professors, shoved Amy out the conference room door and slammed it shut. All of the professors then began jamming furniture up against the door to prevent Amy from shooting her way back inside.

Amy, meanwhile, went downstairs to the ladies bathroom, hid the gun, and then casually telephoned her husband to come and pick her up from work, just like she did everyday.

When her husband arrived, he says Amy very calmly got into the car and acted perfectly normal, as if nothing at all had happened. He drove her home, where the police surrounded them and grabbed them both. Amy was taken to jail and her husband was questioned to determine what, if any, involvement he'd had in the murders. It was determined that he knew nothing about anything that his wife had done, and so he was released.

If Amy is convicted of the murders she committed and doesn't get off with some variation of the "I'm a victim, too" excuse, she could possibly be sentenced to death. This seems unlikely in light of the plethora of abuse excuses available to her and her attorneys, but for now it remains to be seen what sort of political hijinks and bullshit is going to affect in her trial. Already her lawyers have claimed that Amy can't remember the shooting, a typical bullshit claim made to reduce the severity of the charges. 

And that's all I have to say about that.

For now.

I'm Amy Bishop from Harvard, dammit!

So there you have it.

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From the Mouths of Babes

Kids know far too much these days.

This morning while I was sitting in the doctor's waiting room, I saw a little girl playing with her Barbie and Ken dolls immitating the doggy position.

I bent down and told her, "you'll end up with little baby dolls if you keep doing that."

She replied, "I don't think so. He's doing her up the arse."

* Ute texted me this to my cell phone.

And now for something inspirational ...

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10 Things That I Hate

The following are 10 things that I hate, with no special rhyme or reason, no limits or boundaries, and no particular theme except that which emerges as I write it. Because that's how my brain seems to work, totally randomly and sometimes not so well.

1. I hate how much of my sense of self-worth is dependent on the opinions of my friends. It's more than just a weakness. It's a burden on their shoulders and it weighs them down over time. No one wants to be a burden. I hate that I can't just tell everyone to fuck off with their opinions and not care what anyone thinks. I hate that the cunt of the group is me.

2. I hate talk radio shows where you get 5 minutes of someone talking about an actually relevant topic and then 15 minutes of commercials and shit. I hate people who call into those talk radio shows and spend the first half of their time kissing the host's ass, droning on and on about "I'm so honored to be here and you have done such great things. Please let me suck your dick. blah blah blah." Shut the fuck up and get to the point or hang up. You're wasting my time when I could be flipping channels looking for some AC/DC or Metallica or something worth listening to instead of you telling the host how fucking awesome he is.

3. I hate smug fuckers who spend their entire lives following every stupid rule to the letter and then take pleasure in standing in the way of everyone who might want to step out and enjoy a little freedom or risk every once in awhile. So I want to drive 70 mph in a 65 zone. What's that to you? Get out of the fucking passing lane, you hypocritical self-righteous colorectal blockage! Yes, I see your fucking "What Would Jesus Do" sticker and I'm pretty fucking sure that Jesus wouldn't take sick pleasure in blocking traffic with his fucking Ford Crown Victoria land yacht while everyone else is forced to sit behind him and curse him for being such a selfish assdrilling homo. So you want to waste your whole life never having lived at all, eh? Fine, go do it in the fucking morgue and get out of the way of the living!

4. I hate political correctness. I am not a fucking "European-Native-American" or a "Caucasian-Cherokee-American" or a "white-male-middle-class-have". I am a fucking person, just like you and everyone else. And I am not part of "humankind". I am part of "mankind". For fuck's sake, 'humankind' has the word 'mankind' in it, dumbass, and the only people who don't like the term 'mankind' are man-hating cunts! We are all of the race of man, like it or not. Maybe we should be truly PC and simply refer to mankind as Hominina, which includes humans and apes. Or we could be like Sheldon on "The Big Bang Theory" and say "Humanoids." Whatever we do, I'm sure someone somewhere will find a reason to get offended and demand that we add a fucking hyphen or change it to something less and less meaningful until we have a word or phrase that means "pussies who won't stand for anything."

5. I hate news shows that try to double as entertainment. This is where our network news went wrong and has since gone straight to hell. It's worthless now. If you want to know about John Travolta's latest hairstyle (shaved) or what brand of suit President Obama is wearing today then by all means, turn on the TV news. But if you want to know what's really going on in the world you have to dig for it through various newspapers, websites, blogs, and radio programs. Heaven forbid that our news get rid of all the bleached-blonde, breast-implanted daughters of network executives and hire some old man who simply tells us the truth without a lot of jiggling or embellishing or screaming "there's a WAR ON WOMEN" like a fucking drunken lunatic. What would we do without all that? Why, we might actually have some idea of what's really happening, like they did in the old days when my dad was watching. We might actually make informed, rational decisions. Good Lord, we can't have that!

6. I hate reality TV. First of all, it's almost never reality. It's fake. Most of the time you can tell, even when you are trying not to. The game shows where they stick people on islands or in houses together and let them rip each other apart is real in that what the people do to each other is real, but the circumstances are not. The other shows, with Ozzie Osbourne or Gene Simmons or the rest are all designed to seem real, and bits of it probably are, but you can tell that this is acting to some extent and often the situations are even a total set-up. It's not all total shit. Sometimes it's entertaining even if it isn't real. But mostly its just annoying.

7. I hate Microsoft. And not for the reasons that most everyone else says they hate Microsoft. I hate Microsoft because they have so loaded down their operating system and their software with shit that wastes CPU time, doing things in the background that I don't want done at all, ignoring my commands or leaving me sitting there waiting for fucking EVER for the computer to respond, that I find myself increasingly dreading turn on the computer at all. It's a damn machine. It needs to do what I tell it do to the second I tell it to do it. Don't fucking tell me to wait while you run some process that I didn't ask you to run. My commands come first. Do what I fucking told you to do or I'll turn you off altogether. Stop wasting my fucking time!

8. I hate waiters/waitresses that come up to you while you're in mid-sentence and blurt out "is everything alright?" No, everything is not alright. Everything WAS alright before you barged up and interrupted me just as I was telling the fucking punchline to a joke that took 10 minutes to build up to, you fucking rude, crackheaded, tip-dependent, disappointment to your parents. And Lord knows you won't be anywhere in sight when I actually DO need you. No, you'll be in the back fucking the cook with your bare ass on the same counter where my food was prepared, which explains the funky taste, you whore.

9. I hate people who turn off the coffee maker in the middle of the workday because the pot is nearly empty, but they don't want any more and they are too damn lazy to simply make another pot for everyone else. It's the middle of the damn day. You take away my coffee and I will go to sleep on my keyboard. You get paid well enough that you can take 5 minutes and put on another pot of damn coffee. It won't kill you. If it's too complicated for you to figure out how, ask me and I'll teach you. If you still can't do it then clearly you shouldn't be in this building in the first place because we're all high-tech college graduates here, cursing Microsoft and shouting "Bazinga" any time we want a laugh from our colleagues because we're nerds like that. DON'T FUCK WITH MY COFFEE, DAMMIT!

10. I hate the cynicism that surrounds me. I hate knowing who is behind the curtain producing the big giant Wizard of Oz flaming head. I hate not believing in Santa Claus, man-made global warming, the 2008 Senate election in Minnesota, the United Nations, hope and change Obama, or the empty-headed twat anchoring the news. Life was easier when I didn't know what was going on. Life was more fun when I thought the best and brightest rose to the top while cheaters never win. The sky was bluer and the grass greener when I believed that bad people get caught and punished while good people are rewarded and encouraged, instead of the other way around. I grew up thinking that our nation's founding fathers lived heroic lives of triumph and happiness. Now I think they lived stressful lives of unhappiness and a constant aching feeling inside that someone needs to DO SOMETHING because I can't take anymore of this. I still admire what they accomplished, but I no longer envy them at all. It must have been exhausting.

So, there it is. And I must say, it is every bit as random as I expected it would be. I hope it was in some way entertaining for you. I should probably read through it before I post it just to make sure I haven't said anything horrendous which will fuck up my life and bring me instant doom, but I'm behind on a project and I have to get to it. So I'm afraid I'll just have to post it and hope I haven't fucked myself once again with my stupidity.

So, what are 10 things that you hate?

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Question and Answer

1. By what nickname(s) were you known as a child?

Flatulence Jones. After awhile, this name seemed too long to be convenient, so people shortened it to Windy.

2. Do you have a favorite poem and, if so, what is it? Recite it (or a snippet) here, please.

There once was a fellow McSweeny
Who spilled some gin on his weenie
Just to be couth
He added vermouth
Then slipped his girlfriend a martini

3. What is your greatest regret in life, something that you failed to do that you wish you did?

I regret that I didn't put myself up for adoption. Perhaps I could have been taken in by some kindly family who wasn't batshit crazy? Who knows what sort of man I'd be today if I had only had loving parents instead of a pair of serial killers?

4. You are tired and hungry, but it's too late to cook. If any snack food were available to you, what would you choose and why?

Oreos and a glass of beer are kick-ass at 2 a.m. I don't really need the Oreos, but sometimes the cats try to get my beer so I throw Oreos to distract them.

5. What is the oldest item of clothing (not jewelry!) that you wear regularly and what do you love about it?

I still have underwear from back in college. Sure, it's got skidmarks and a few holes, but it fits me like a glove, a glove for my man-junk, and that's not easy to find these days. If someone could produce some quality underwear that fits man-junk like a glove straight out of the package then I'd toss my old college undies and wear the new stuff. Until that day arrives I'm wearing this stuff until it turns to dust and falls off my body.

Bonus (as in optional):Name a movie or TV show that changed your thinking or behavior.

The Godfather - it showed me that when you want to get someone to do what you desire, you simply have to kill a horse and stick it in their bed and they'll do exactly as requested. Life has been so much simpler for me since I learned this important skill!

And now for a video that's probably way too cool for my blog, but fuck it. Here it is anyway:

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I Am

I am at the Stache today.

Come with me, my love
To the sea, the sea of love
I want to tell you oh how much I love you

Do you remember when we met?
That's the day I knew you were my pet
I want to tell you how much I love you

Come with me
To the sea

Do you remember when we met?
That's the day I knew you were my pet
I want to tell you oh how much I love you

Come with me
To the sea

Do you remember when we met?
That's the day I knew you were my pet
I want to tell you oh how much I love you

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A Nude Memphis Review of 2009

January 2 - Jett Travolta (Age 16), son of John Travolta and Kelly Preston, dies from a fatal blow to the head after a seizure.

January 14 - Ricardo Montalban (Age 88), former host of TV show Fantasy Island, along with sidekick, Tattoo, dies from terminal old age.

January 20 - Barack Obama is inaugurated as America's first half-white, half-black president after having served 4 years in the United States Senate where he did absolutely not one single thing. Immediately following Obama's inauguration, he is awarded the Nobel Peace Prize (establishing forever that it means absolutely nothing), a new presidential speech is on TV every single night for months, GM and Chrysler are nationalized, 450 new Russian 'czars' are appointed by the White House, a fleet of Russian attack subs park in American waters just off the East Coast, and Illinois governor Rod Blagojavich is indicted for corruption and begins threatening to tell all he knows about Mr. Obama and his right-hand assassin, Rahm Emmanuel. New president Obama, who in 2008 did a great job of slapping candidate Hillary Clinton around and hitting as low as possible, offers her the job of Secretary of State and all of her grrlfriendz prime positions of power in exchange for the forgiveness and support of the federally funded Female Supremacist Political Machine. Hillary and Grrlz agree and the trouble starts right away.

February 1 – Jóhanna Sigurðardóttir is appointed as the new Prime Minister of Iceland, becoming the world's first openly lesbian head of government since the Clintons were in the White House in the 1990s.

February 7 - The deadliest bushfires in Australian history begin; they kill 173, injure 500 more, and leave 7,500 homeless. The fires come after Melbourne records the highest-ever temperature (46.4°C, 115°F) of any capital city in Australia. The majority of the fires are ignited by either fallen or clashing power lines or deliberately lit. I personally freaked out, not knowing where a certain Melbourne friend of mine was, and gave a bunch of money to the Australian Red Cross along with instructions to "get your ass out there and find her. Then ask her to call me." She was fine, but she has yet to call me. She did email, but only to say "what the fuck did you send the Red Cross after me for? I live in the middle of the city and the fires were all in the outback, dumbass!"

February 14 - Unnamed man is attacked by Boise, Idaho police who pin him to the ground, pulling his head and arms backwards until he is unable to breath. Then one officer rams a Taser into his anus and fries it. Following the frying of his butthole the sexually aggressive officer presses the Taser against his testicles and threatens to fry his balls. The man later sues for excessive use of force.

March 18 - Natasha Richardson (Age 45), British actress married to Liam Neeson, dies from traumatic brain injury.

April 2 – The second G-20 summit, involving do-nothing politicians rather than the usual finance ministers, meets in London. Its main focus is an ongoing global financial crisis, except for the moment when U.S. President Barack Obama and French President Nicolas Sarkozy are caught on camera staring at a hot 16-year-old Brazlian girl's ass. The girl with the fine ass, Mayara Tavares, stated, "I didn't mind Sarkozy so much. I know he is skilled in the bedroom because he is French. But that American man was creepy. He reminds me of the Joker in that Batman movie." The rest of the summit is spent by police practicing their favorite sport - protestor punting.

April 5 – North Korea launches the Kwangmyŏngsŏng-2 rocket at the United States, prompting an emergency apology from United States President Barack Obama that no one understands.

April 12 - Marilyn Chambers (Age 57), legendary porn actress who starred in "Behind the Green Door" dies from unknown cause.

May 25 – North Korea announces that it has launched another nuclear missile at the United States. U.S. President Obama quickly apologizes once again to North Korea.

June 3 - David Carradine (Age 72), really poor martial artist and star of the widely popular Kung Fu TV series and co-star in Tarantino's "Kill Bill" movies, dies of autoerotic asphyxiation - i.e. jerking off while hanging himself.

June 11 – The outbreak of the H1N1 influenza strain, commonly referred to as "swine flu", is deemed a global pandemic, prompting former U.S. Vice President Al Gore to fly in his lear jet to Oslo, Norway, for a press conference where he insists that global warming is the cause of swine flu. He then begins insisting that he be allowed to meet the Swedish bikini team. Despite repeated attempts to explain to Mr. Gore that Norway and Sweden are different countries, he continues to demand to see them until finally the Norwegian government has them flown over from Sweden just to shut Mr. Gore up.

Al Gore invented internet porn

June 21 – Greenland stages a civil war against the Kingdom of Denmark, demanding independence. Denmark, having totally forgotten about Greenland, gives up without a fight. Greenland assumes control over its law enforcement, judicial affairs, and natural resources. Greenlandic becomes the official language, although Klingon remains the far more popular unofficial language and is spoken by more citizens than Greenlandic.

June 23 - Ed McMahon (Age 86), popular sidekick of Johnny Carson on The Tonight Show, dies of various health irregularities including a really young wife who liked to shop.

June 25 - Farrah Fawcett (Age 62), model and actress in popular T.V. series Charlie's Angels and former playboy model, dies after long battle with anal cancer.

June 25 – The death of American entertainer Michael Jackson triggers an outpouring of worldwide grief, moon walking, and the wearing of shiny '80s clothing. Online, reactions to the event cripple several major websites and services, as the abundance of people accessing the web addresses pushes internet traffic to potentially unprecedented and historic levels.

June 28 - Billy Mays (Age 50), obnoxious infomercial seller and co-star of the Pitchman show, dies of heart disease.

July 1 - Karl Malden (Age 97): American actor famous for TV series The Streets of San Francisco, dies of super duper old age.

July 1 - Mollie Sugden (Age 86), British actress who appeared in tv series Are You Being Served? dies of natural causes.

July 4 - Steve McNair (Age 36), former quarterback for the Tennessee Titans and Baltimore Ravens, is murdered by his girlfriend who then shot herself rather than face the horror of becoming the next Mary Winkler.

July 6 - Oscar Mayer Jr. (Age 95), weiner man and chairman of Oscar Mayer meat company, dies of natural causes.

July 22 - Tavares Browning files suit against the city of South Bend, Indiana, and 4 police officers who shot him in the testicles with 3 Tasers at once before a fourth officer jumped on top of him and rammed a Taser into his groin and literally fried his genitals. The attack was the result of a $1900 debt Tavares owed but was unable to pay.

August 6 - John Hughes (Age 59), director and writer who became famous for such films as The Breakfast Club, Sixteen Candles, Weird Science and Ferris Beuller's Day Off, dies of cardiac arrest.

August 11 - Eunice Kennedy Shriver (Age 88), one of the fucking Kennedys, dies after allegedly being bashed in the head with a golf club by Michael Skakel.

September 14 - Patrick Swayze (Age 57), lead actor of Point Break, Ghost, Dirty Dancing and Road House, dies after long battle with pancreatic cancer.

October 28 - A Langley, British Columbia man is sexually assaulted by a random woman who kicks him in the testicles as he is walking to his car. One of the man's testicles is jammed up inside his abdomen, rupturing it as it passes into his body. The man is taken to the hospital for surgery and suffers several weeks of unbearble agony. B.C. police note a flood of similar reports from men who were sexually assaulted in the same manner by a woman fitting the same description. A report goes out that police are searching for a "serial groin kicker" who is targeting men based on their sex and viciously sexually assaulting them.

November 5 - A 13-year-old boy in Johnson County, Indiana, bursst into a news station and begs for help. He and all the other boys at his school are being sexually assaulted on a daily basis, but they can't get anyone to do anything about it. A reporter takes the story and begins investigating. He discovers that the problem, which the students call "ball tapping," is widespread, covering the entire state, and that school nurses, teachers, principals and hospitals are very much aware of it. Yet not one thing is being done to stop it. Interviews with Indiana doctors reveals that boys are being brought into emergency rooms in need of surgery to remove ruptured testicles as a result of the epidemic of sexual violence against males that has overtaken not only Indiana, but the entire United States. A study of the very same problem was conducted in 1995 at the University of New Hampshire, where much the same information was discovered. The University of New Hampshire study even looked at what, if any, emotional and psychological damage was done in addition to the physical damage to the genitals. It found that the victims suffered the exact same emotional problems as victims of all other forms of sexual abuse. A warning was issued to The Press by the researchers about the epidemic of misandric sexual violence and immediate need for action to stop it. But much as the desperate 13-year-old boy in the Indiana school discovered, nothing was ever done to stop it. Quite the opposite, American culture continues to encourage sexual violence against males as much as possible. The story was quickly buried in 1995 and will be again in 2010. Authorities and legislators won't do anything because feminists don't want them to stop it.

December 20 - Brittany Murphy, 32, actress in movies Clueless, Girl, Interrupted, 8 Mile, Uptown Girls, Sin City, Happy Feet, and Riding in Cars with Boys and voice of Luanne in TV series "King of the Hill", dies of cardiac arrest.

December 31 - The United States Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit, based in San Francisco, rules that the Taser, an electrically disabling torture device, constituted excessive force when used against an unarmed man who did not pose a threat, and it refused to allow a police officer immunity for its use.

Taser! Taser! Sue!!!

And there you have it. 2009, a deadly year for celebrities, a rough year for victims of the Taser, and not a terribly great year for anyone possessing testicles. Thank God it's over! Let's hope 2010 is much better.

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