Intellectual Poison

Armando Benitez Traded to the Marlins

To which the only thing I can add is: SUCKERS!

No wait, there's plenty more to add. The Marlins have just scored one of the worst closers in the game, an apathetic blame-shifting, slop-throwing, injury-prone clubhouse cancer.

Good fucking riddance.

Now maybe the Giants can win some of the games they go into the 9th leading.

Labels: baseball

It is now just past 7 am. I am awake. Nobody else in the house is awake yet which is kind of nice but it also means the multiple mornings of pre-7 wake ups have conditioned me to start waking up on my own before 7.

Thanks, kids!

At least I can get some undisturbed computer/coffee time!

Labels: kids

My wife raised a really good point as we were driving home from a successful, albeit annoying, trip to CostCo. Why do we need to have coupons to get deals on stuff that's on sale?

We pay for a membership, why should we have to clip coupons to get the deals as well? That just seems unnecessarily stupid and an extra step.

CostCo would be much better served by just putting a sale tag on the item and letting everyone who wants to buy it, buy it at the sale price. As it is, we were annoyed because they gave us the coupons on our way out, the coupons expired the next day and we could have and should have saved a small chunk off our bill. But now we have to remember to take the coupon and the reciept back in with us to get the damned money.

CostCo should be working for its members, not making them work harder to get a few extra bucks off their bills. I think I'll drop a short note to CostCo to let them know that.

Labels: shopping

BALK, BALK, WAY BACK / Benitez's gaffes turn win to loss

A walk, two balks and another pathetic, collapsed save gave what would have been a kickass win for the Giants, to the Mets.

At least he took the blame for it, unlike last season where he'd blow a save and then be seen laughing in the dugout.

But the guy is paid far too much for how little he's produced. Opposing teams should be signing his paychecks.

Man, that totally sucked to watch happen. Let's hope Barry Zito can have a strong game today. And maybe Barry Bonds will knock another one out against Glavine.

But I can continue to take solace when I look at the Yankees record and see them a hilarious eight games under .500. How's that sitting with King George? I wonder what will happen if they get to ten under? Heads will start rolling soon now.

And it feels like it's just about time for the injury bug to starting biting the Dodgers so they can do their spectacular fade. I'm going with Nomar and then Kent but it could go the other way. Maybe Furcal will go down again too, not sure at this point. And it makes me happy to know how much they paid for Schmitty and he's busted. Oops.

Because I do, we've been tag teamed by two small screaming, whining, crying children who got up too early and are now rubbing sandpaper over my very last nerve.

Everything, literally everything this morning elicited nothing but loud whining and moaning from Grady. And Sully joined in because it sounded like so much fun.

Luckily they are going to daycare today and we can reclaim a picked up downstairs and, hopefully, some shreds of our shattered nerves.

Kids are wonderful, wonderful creatures but they can also be extraordinarily trying.

Labels: children, parenting

The first thing I think of when I meet a child or kid with notably good or notably bad manners is that their parents did it. They either raised a kid with good manners or they raised a kid without good manners. The majority, lately it seems, were raised without even an idea of what manners are.

CostCo on Memorial Day Sunday is like exposing one's backside to a weedwhacker, it is gonna hurt.

And the sheer number of people who behave as if they are the only ones there is absolutely fucking annoying. When you're right behind someone and they just stop and abandon their shopping cart, blocking you in the process, and then dart across the aisle, blocking your ability to go around and keep moving, eventually you just want to start dropping elbows. Oh yeah, excuse me doesn't seem to do a thing.

But don't you dare touch their cart. Oh no, no, no. They rush right back to them and shoot daggers at you with their eyes. And haastily push away down the aisle. Only to resume their annoying and self absorbed behaviour almost immediately. It's like a merry go round, only without the music, brass rings or ponies. Or fun. And the ride costs a helluva lot more than fifty cents.

But the prizes are much better, if you do well. The most exciting thing I got at CostCo today was an eight pack of chili, good chili but chili nonetheless, no four pack of Super Soakers with laser aiming for me today. And I also got another firm reminder that, no matter what else, my two children will say "please", "thank you" and "excuse me" loudly and regularly. And only a little bit because I don't want other parents to look at me and judge me a bad parent because my kid's are rude little buggers.

If you've got kids or you are planning on having kids then I would appreciate it if you did the same. The world needs manners, they are all that separate us from the animals.

By the way, on that note, swing by my pals at The Mint for a refreshing dose of the capricious and often very cool nature of nature.

Labels: culture, manners, parenting

Sad news to report that Chuck Liddell was knocked out tonight by Quinton "Rampage" Jackson in the first round of the UFC 71 title fight. Which is pretty amazing considering how Chuck was buzz-sawing through his last few fights.

But Rampage is a different style of fighter and sometimes one style just beats the other (given fighters of reasonably close talent, training and conditioning, of course).

Nothing against Rampage, I just have been a fan of the Iceman for a long time now. I like how he carries himself, like how he trains and love how he fights. The fact that my wife used to sort-of know him a long time ago in SLO is just kind of a cool tidbit.

Labels: Iceman, knockout, UFC

I understand that you need a "color" person to add some interest to the broadcasts, someone to interview people in the stands, talk to special visitors and the like.

However, Cammy Blackstone is awful. Her questions are stupid, her behaviour is erratic and you'd think she might brush her hair before going on television.

Seriously, she "interviewed" Condi Rice the other night and didn't even introduce her, she just said Secretary of State. And she didn't let the Australian Foreign Minister actually speak, she waved the mic at him.

She's awful and needs to go. Just like the Crab and Rusty had to go. Send her away and hire someone with some skill and who isn't afraid of a hair brush. They can also be hot, that would be fine too. Cammy looks like she's just coming off a weekend bender all the time.

Labels: baseball

Vegas tourists turn to scooters : "A tourist could accidentally get some exercise" if they walked from place to place instead of riding on little electric scooters. You know, the kind they sell on tv for old people and fat people and the ridiculously lazy.

I can't wait for the drunk driving accidents on scooters to start piling up and they get banned without a medical permit.

Bicycles or those four wheeled dealies would be a much better, healthier and less ethically challenged solution than allowing perfectly healthy people to use equipment intended for people with medical reason to use it.

God, sometimes I am thoroughly disgusted by my fellow Americans.

But then, I also think Las Vegas is a big, stupid scam. Even though I've been a bunch of times and enjoy myself when I go, I still feel fleeced from the moment I get there until when I leave.

But I did rather enjoy being able to walk around with my beer out in public.

At least my Mom rules! As some of you are aware, we celebrated Sullivan's first birthday last weekend and he just got a fantastic present from his grandma, my Mom, and grandpa. Actually, it's a dual gift for Grady and Sully because there's no way we could keep Grady out and that would cut down on the fun anyway.

The present? Its called a Jellybean Jumper and is a small (but big enough for big fun) indoor jumphouse. It came with an inflator so it was easy to pump up and it has occupied a good space in our living room since yesterday afternoon.

To say the boys like it is extreme understatement. Sully has been giggling like mad and Grady is showing off his daredevil prowess by trying to jump over the side into it from the arm of the couch. We're discouraging that behaviour but the underlying deal is that both the boys absolutely love it.

And the timing for the delivery could not have been better because we are having an all-day playdate for Grady and one of his best pals. So we've had three little boys bouncing, laughing, rolling and wrestling in this thing all morning now. I predict solid naps from all three this afternoon. And maybe a meltdown or two as well but that's pretty much SOP with little kids.

Thanks Mom!

Labels: birthday, mom

Rosie, Elisabeth Wage Angry War of Words on what is probably one of the worst shows ever in the history of television. I didn't watch this episode and haven't ever watched more than ten seconds of it before.

But I've seen enough to know that Elizabeth Hasselbeck is an absolute fucking moron Republican parrot. She is embarrassingly stupid. And I actually feel pity for Matt Hasselbeck to have to put up with her but he's probably a Republican ass-sucker too so they're just thrilled as they drive around in their Hummer.

I'm no fan of Rosie's but I am definitely an anti-fan of Hasselbeck's. The words she utters are so wrong I just want to smack her in the face.

Anyway, this was this evening's tawdry "celeb" (in quotes because this barely qualifies as celeb news, one is a has been and the other is a never was) news.

Labels: "celebrity", celebrity, idiots

Here's Morford's first paragraph for his latest column about the rumored demise of the Hummer H2. It is superb, even for Morford.

The late Rev. Jerry Falwell? He was exactly like a Hummer H2. Oh yes he was. Bloated, arrogant, offensive to millions and deeply wrong in a thousand ways and yet blindly worshipped by a shockingly large and happily uninformed throng of devout minions for no other reason than he was, well, bloated, arrogant and wrong.

He has captured, in just a couple of sentences, exactly how I feel about the ridiculous monstrosity that is the Hummer. And, in the man's case, was Falwell.

You may not like what he writes but you've gotta admire his artistry with the words.

Labels: hummer, morford

There are an awful lot of people who go around espousing what they think are opinions but they are really expressing their sentiments. What is the difference between the two?

A sentiment is a belief held because it makes you feel a certain way, it is not based on rational, deductive logic.

An opinion is conclusion arrived at after careful consideration of the available information.

Where a sentiment can be held in spite of obvious evidence to the contrary, i.e. the Yankees suck, the reality is that they are an incredibly talented group of players being paid exorbitant sums of money. My opinion of the Yankees is that George Steinbrenner is ruining the sport of baseball because he has an addiction to trophies. That opinion is based on him spending ridiculous salaries for aging stars in an effort to get back to the World Series.

Yes, it is a nuance between a sentiment and an opinion but the difference is important because an sentiment isn't likely to be changable whereas an opinion can be (and should be) open for debate and deeper consideration. Say I learned that Steinbrenner wants to win the World Series one more time before he dies of congestive heart failure that he had diagnosed a year or two ago, that puts his spendy ways in a very different light. Doesn't change my sentiment towards the Yankees though, I am, afterall, an Orioles fan (and a Red Sox fan because so much of my family is in New England).

By the way, I am not a fan of Curt Schilling anymore. Not in the light of his spaz-mouth episode a couple of weeks ago. Keep your deeply biased (and factually incorrect) assumptions to yourself, Mr. Holier-Than-Thou. Or let's see your proof, otherwise you're just another jackass spouting off. Or are you going with the best defense is a good offense? I know there have always been whispers about you and 'roids too, Curt.

Labels: difference, opinion, steroids

Vincent to Selig -- stay away from Bonds' celebration because, in Vincent's mind and Selig's (though Selig profited mightily as an owner during the steroid era), Barry Bonds has done steroids. Without ever failing a test, without any proof these two asshats have tried him and convicted him.

Bottom line, Bud Selig is the fucking commissioner of baseball. Barry Bonds is going to break the all-time home run record. For Selig to blow that off, he should resign. He's not fit to lead Major League Baseball.

Bonds almost certainly did use PED's, so did that majority of the league at the time. Doesn't make it right, doesn't excuse it but it also certainly does not make it right to dismiss his truly incredible accomplishments as a player.

He was a Hall of Famer before he ever became a home run hitter and it is absolutely ludicrous to debate whether he deserves to be in the hall now. If Bonds does not get into the Hall of Fame, I'll quit being a fan of the goddamned sport.

And Fay Vincent, take your circumstantial evidence and shove it right up your retired old ass. You "assume" you know what he did, you don't know and yet you are going to publicly smack the man down. You are a blowhard and a fool. Since we're free to "assume" whatever we like, I'm going to assume you like dressing up in little pleated plaid skirts and prancing around like a 13 year old girl with your grey hair in pigtails. What's wrong? Why can't I assume it about you?

As for Hank Aaron's attendance, I don't think he needs to be there if he doesn't want to be. It would be nice but he's not the commissioner of baseball, is he? He's a private citizen who's record is going to get broken. I have zero problem with Aaron staying away. Selig's job is to represent the sport, that includes attending momentous moments like this record being broken. To not attend is to not fulfill his obligations as the commissioner.

And he (Bud Selig) is a deeply hypocritical bitch too.

I'm sure there are plenty of you baseball fans out there who disagree with me on Bonds. That's fine. He's not Floyd Landis, he's not some instant superstar, he's just been one of the greatest shows in baseball for an incredibly long time. With or without PED's, he is the shiznit. And note, he didn't pull a Big Mac and just run and hide and pretend he can't answer. He has publicly denied taking steroids, he has gone on the record as saying he has never intentionally done them. And he's never tested positive. Not Palmiero, who denied and then got caught, not Sammy who denied and then lost his size and power. Not Jose Canseco who wanted to pump up book sales by calling out his former friends. Not Jason Grimsley for being the lockerroom dopeman. Barry Bonds has never tested positive for PED's. Until that day comes, Bud Selig needs to do his job.

Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.

Labels: baseball

Grady's language skills are starting to really hit their stride and he's able to repeat almost anything said to him within reason. He's not good on full sentences yet but he's really good on individual words.

This morning, when he got up and needed some help getting downstairs with all of his Cars cars (the cars from the movie of the same name) he asked me to carry him down. And, once I'd scooped him up, he said "Awesome!".

Which is just hilarious and incredibly sweet coming from the wee guy. I also love it when I ask him if he's ready to go and he says "Ready!" with the emphasis on the d.

The other side of the coin is that he can also parrot the words you don't want him to. So we are being extra, extra careful about what words we use and when we use them. Because it's somewhat depressing (if still cute) to see him wagging his finger at Nande and saying "Quiet, damn you!".

Anyway, a slice of life with the boys. Right now, Sully's screaming his head off for some reason and Grady's deconstructed the couch into a fort, again. Why yes, that process IS called transfortation. The couch spends more time apart than it does together these days.

Labels: children, language

We can all rejoice because there will be less Donald "Sucking Lemons" Trump on the idiot box come fall. The Apprentice has been cancelled. Which is good for two reasons, one, it was a pretty limp show to begin with and two, Donald Trump has a face for radio, at best. The ugly putz should not be on TV, ever. His daughter? Sure. Him? Hell no.

And, in other schadenfreude news, Paula Abdul busted her nose trying to avoid stepping on her dog. I no longer try not to step on my dog. If she's going to lay down where she knows I'm going to walk then she's going to get stepped on or kneed on the way through. I'm not breaking my damned nose just because she needs to be in my way, sorry. I wonder if Paula was, ummm, medicated at the time?

Labels: celebrity

This is the house that post-nasal drip built. We are the Hork House. Only two of our members are unable to perform the hork, yet. Perhaps we'll call them Hork Initiates?

Allergy season has been kicking our asses for the last week or two here. The cut grasses have been killing me and the trees are killing my wife.

We've been coughing up disgusting post-nasal drip chunks all week long. And she's got this booming cough to go with it.

As a result of the nasty that includes a very rough and raw throat and tonsils (mine swell up to the size of golfballs or maybe tennis balls), the horking has been hot and wild. We are using our sinks more for rinse outs than anything else. Sorry for that image but at least you don't have the soundtrack to go with it too.

My symptoms are finally starting to abate now, which is nice as I'm tired of having to brace myself before I could swallow.

In other news, I'm putting together my first professional photography/graphic arts portfolio. And later this week I'll be placing my first ads for gigs. The first events I work are going to be at pretty severely discounted rates as I come up to speed on the ins and outs of the process.

Labels: sick

We celebrated Sullivan's 1st birthday today at a park in Corralitos. As expected, the weather was fan-freakin'-tastic with hot sun and a nice cooling breeze. Want to get hot, go out in the sun, want to cool down, go in the shade. Awesome.

And we learned a valuable lesson about having parties in the park, it is waaaay easier than having them at your house. When the party is done, you load everything up, throw all the trash away and then go home to a quiet and clean(ish) house. Really, really nice.

Other quick highlights before I pass out from exhaustion. The pinata was supposed to be a cactus but that one got lost so I went and got a three foot bright red chili pepper pinata. It was very cool. And very tough, every kid there got as many whacks as they wanted and it still didn't break. Eventually the piece tying it to the rope broke and I ended up tearing the thing in half and showering candy all around.

The Weber Q grill was perfect as well. With its cart and bit tank, it can cook continuously for days if need be. But we didn't need it to. It was quick to get set up and then get going. For the amount of food we had, it was the perfect size. I could have done all the hot dogs at once and still had space for burgers, even the mushroom hockey puck vegeterian things my wife eats.

Nearly in every instance, giving squirt guns away at a kid's party is a bad idea. Unless it is really warm out and the kids can have a ball blasting each other without really getting wet.

Also, a really important thing to keep in mind is a good mindset. Things could have gone south quickly because Sully basically dumped an entire box of juice on himself within three minutes of getting there. Instead of it being a problem, he lost his shorts and got a swabbing and we kept on rolling. There were little meltdowns here and there but nothing major because it just didn't fit in with how things were going, if that makes sense.

I'm sure the 15 year old having her birthday party right next to us enjoyed having a raucous crowd of little kids around. Especially when one unloaded on her and her friends with two squirt guns. But even that rolled off people's backs.

I think pretty much everyone had a great time. I know both the boys had a great time and they were both asleep by the time we got out to the main road to head home. Sugar and excitement can only carry you so far. I'll put up some photos later, I think I got some cool ones during the pinata beating and some of Sully stuffing a cupcake into his face.

But for now, I'm going to go lay down and enjoy the peace and quiet for a little while.

Labels: birthday, children

Read some of the assembled quotes from the late and unlamented Jerry Falwell. I'd forgotten some of the thoroughly despicable things he uttered. And its shocking to see such an assembly.

That this deeply hateful man considered himself a man of God is the most warped perversion of religion for one's own ends I could imagine.

Here are a few, some may end up having my comments because they are so unutterably wrong and evil:
"AIDS is not just God's punishment for homosexuals; it is God's punishment for the society that tolerates homosexuals."

"Christians, like slaves and soldiers, ask no questions."

"I hope I live to see the day when, as in the early days of our country, we won't have any public schools. The churches will have taken them over again and Christians will be running them. What a happy day that will be!"

"The Bible is the inerrant ... word of the living God. It is absolutely infallible, without error in all matters pertaining to faith and practice, as well as in areas such as geography, science, history, etcetera."

And people hung on this absolute fucking moron's every word like it was God's sweat beading on his pasty, fatty brow. I believe in every American's right to speak his mind and I certainly wouldn't want to have shut up a fool like Falwell but I will also very loudly exercise my right to shout at him and point out the fact that the man is a cowardly hater at his core. He hates what he does not know and what he does not know is damned near everything.

Good riddance, you disgusting old bag of fetid wind. I know you'll have a dozen fork tongued replacements by next week. But damn, your sorry carcass needed to die. It is a shame that your hateful words and actions will not die with you. Burn in hell for eternity, you evil bastard. And save a place for Dick Cheney, he'll be there before too long.

Also, Jack at the People's Republic has noted an attempt by the Right to repaint this scumbag's history and he is being favorably compared to Princess Di, Mother Teresa and JFK. Which is, of course, ridiculous and wrong. He found the news over at AmericaBlog. To allow his memory to be rewritten and just cross out all the evil parts is a monstrous disservice to us all. Never forget what an intolerant, hateful windbag he really was, never forget what unutterably stupid things he said and believed. Never forget that he didn't care about religious freedom, just his own religion having the freedom to stomp on anyone else and their beliefs.

This is not a man to remember fondly, this is a devil to be scorned forever.

Labels: death, religion

I'm a regular reader of the Santa Cruz Sentinel's Cops and Courts section.

Partly out of curiosity (the morbid kind most likely) but also because I want to keep an eye on what crimes are being reported around my house.

Stabbing season seems to have died down for the time being but we are, apparently, entering DUI season so be careful out there.

The story I am referring to is the gang fight that got broken up at the intersection of Main Street and Green Valley Road. Yeah, yeah, whatever, right? Except this gangfight got broken up by some FBI agents who just happened to be nearby.

That's right, the FBI broke up a fight. And it's about four blocks from my house. Makes me feel tingly all over to know that there's something "interesting" enough right here in my neighborhood to warrant the FBI investigating it. I hope it isn't a dirty bomb or something awful like that.

And, you know, tingly isn't really the right word, I suppose its more like "fearful" that the police state is already here, it just has a great big Wal-Mart smiley face on it.

Labels: crime, local

X-rated nude car wash gets police all-clear and you can get your car washed and johnson waxed for a mere A$100 (about $90 US).

Funny how cottage industries spring up when laws and restrictions are enacted. Car washes have become popular in many Aussie cities because of water restrictions.

Combining naked women and car washes is man-style multi-tasking, like jacking off and driving or drinking and skeet shooting. (Just kidding folks, don't jack and drive or drink and shoot.)

Actually, the reality is that I find strip clubs to be desperate and lonely places. Naked and sexed up car washing puts a nice face on it, gets hot chicks outside in the sun and all but the underlying reality is selling sex. It is exploitation, of the strippers and of the sad sacks who patronize the places. I hate going into strip clubs because I feel like a loser in a vast sea of horny man losers who either too timid or too cheap to go and hire a prostitute so they voyeur their thrills with a whole bunch of other guys.

So anyway, there's the formula for business success. Take a standard product or service and add hot, naked women and voila, instant cash cow.

I cannot tell a lie, nor would I directly contradict easily demonstrable reality. I have been a slack blogger. Kind of strange that I have less time to blog now, when I'm not working full-time, than when I am working full-time and that sort of tells me that maybe my time wasn't being spent especially wisely. Maybe it still isn't.

Either way, it isn't that there isn't plenty going on. Far from it, there is always alot going on in my house. With two little boys, a rambunctious hound and my wife and me, dull moments are as rare as quiet ones.

The funny thing is that I've had several really good posts begun in my mind. About this last weekend's birthday party and stroll through a bamboo forest. About Curt Schilling sticking his entire leg in his mouth by spouting off about Barry Bonds'. About the Red Sox bottom of the ninth comeback win against the O's the other night (hint, I was not pleased). About the fun we had in applying for four passports with expedited service to, hopefully, get them back in time to make a family trip to Mexico in June. About a couple of new ventures I've been exploring. A new invention on top of the other new invention that we've begun to make prototypes of. New words, new blog names, funny observations (well, potentially funny) and a couple of funny photos as well.

But nope, instead you get this lame excuse for a post discussing what I should have been posting. If only for an extra three or four hours in the day.

Which reminds me, I got to get to bed, tomorrow is barrelling down on us like a truck filled with 30,000 pounds of bananas and bad brakes.

Labels: catchup, life

Derek Powazek – The Real Story of JPG Magazine wherein the two founders, Derek and Heather, saw their labor of love grow into something special and wonderful and attractive enough for vultures to swoop in on.

A few key mistakes, trusting the wrong people and the magazine discarded the two founders, just like that. And all because the CEO, previously a pal, wanted to rewrite the magazine's creation story even though everybody already knew how the mag came to be. It was just stupid.

Part of the fallout from this pretty despicable act can be found in the Flickr group The Unofficial JPG Mag Group. So far, the reaction has been to delete accounts with JPG Mag, express outrage at the mistreatment of two valued and very highly regarded founders and a wish to spread the news as widely as possible.

With enough spreading of the news, the magazine will fail and the community of photographers and readers will send a very, very clear message to the jerks who stole the pub.

I really like how Derek notes a few hard-learned lessons:-

What I Learned

If it’s any help to other entrepreneurs, here’s what I’ve learned.

1. Make no assumptions when it comes to roles and responsibilities. Like my dad says: “Someone’s gotta call quittin’ time.”
2. Communication between partners is mandatory. And you cannot communicate with someone who is not communicating with you.
3. Decisions aren’t decisions if you have to keep making them. Set on the course and stick to it. If you keep talking about things that have already been decided, nothing will ever get done.
4. When someone says one thing, but acts in a contradictory way, you have a choice between believing their words or believing their deeds. Believe their deeds.
5. Never let anyone tell you what you want. When someone says, “You don’t want that,” what they really mean is, “I don’t want you to have that.”
6. Don’t stay where you’re not wanted, respected, or happy. Even if it’s your company.

Bummer that he had to learn this in the process of having his baby stolen from him. I'd be interested in hearing JPG Mag's side of the story as well but they've demonstrated an open willingness to engage in lies and exagerations of truth so their rebuttal would be taken with a grain of salt.

There is, of course, a MeFi thread on this as well.

Labels: shenanigans, theft, web 2.0

French workers biggest whiners, Irish happiest which tells me that I gotta stop drinking the wine and start drinking (more of) the whiskey.

But that's a tired old stereotype that should probably be retired.

Anyway, here's another reason to make fun of the French.

And, in other news, Miami Tops Rude Driver List. Isn't that a wonderful thing to be known for? Interesting that Minneapolis-St. Paul was tops last year but has slipped to the middle of the pack. I wonder if that could all be due to just Ryan "Road Rage" Rhodes?

Truthfully, I have no idea if Ryan's a mean driver, I'd actually guess not but I bet he says nasty things to himself about people who cut him off. Just like me.

Also, it is best to not try to race me when I'm on my motorcycle, especially if you're a teenager in a shitbox Honda with a carful of pals. I will make you look like a loser. Well, like a bigger loser.

Paris' pardon plea laughed out of governor's office.

I've seen this moronic tranny say she wants to accept responsibility for her actions and yet she's stooping to no depths to try and keep her dainty buttocks from a cold prison bunk.

I'm glad her "petition" was laughed out, now let's just continue laughing Paris out altogether. And, while we're at it, let's laugh out Nicole "One Eye and Vodka is Liquid" Richie, Britney "Coo-Coo-Coochie" Spears and anyone else who's nothing a society page trollop.

Mark my words though, Paris will parlay this prison sentence into a reality tv show that will garner her even more moronic droolerbots.

two little boys playing together peacefully.
the sound, or lack thereof, of children sleeping.
unfettered laughter from your kids.
a full diaper (because mostly empty diapers are a huge waste of money and resources).
a tentative first bite followed by an eager second, third and fourth bite.
a baby that sits (relatively) still for a haircut.
your child curled up on the couch with you.
watching your toddler get his groove on to the demo song on his play keyboard.
picking your kids up at daycare and having them both run and crawl to you for a hug immediately.
hearing the wonderment in your toddler's voice all day, about everything, and then seeing him be asbsolutely fascinated with something he's noticed.

Labels: children, happiness

Noted Scumbag, Accused Rapist and Overt Mysoginist, Joe Francis of Girls Gone Wild infamy, faces tax charges in Nevada for cooking his books before he
faces charges for sexual battery (again) and another charge where he screamed abuse at seven women.

What a fine, fine man he must be. A gentleman in all things and as honest as the day is long.

No, Joe Francis is a violent, temperamental woman hating scumbag.

Labels: infamy

I had a neighbor, we'll call him Art, because it isn't his real name. He had two sons, a daughter, a wife and a big old Rottie when we first bought our house next door. When he had to move out of his house, his wife had left him and his daughter had sued him for child support because she had to leave home because he was such an asshole to her.

Nice, eh?

Also, his middle child thought it would be a good idea to jump someone with two of his pals a few weeks before his high school graduation. Never did see what became of his arrest for assault.

And the oldest in the family, let's call him Slimer because he is a smarmy slimy fucking prick with a grin to your face and nothing but insults and threats behind your back.

The wife left him after Art came home to catch her astride a cop in their bed, so I can understand some anger and betrayal issues but Art's assholery goes far, far beyond the call of bitterness. He is, at his core, an asshole.

So, he and his two wonderful boys had to move in with his sister because he couldn't afford child support and his mortgage. Which is understandable but doesn't really give him a license to be such a cock to the rest of the world and, duh, is part of the reason his wife went elsewhere.

The house sat empty for a month or two until he rented it to a pair of Philippino near-retirees who'd just liquidated their house to prepare to retire to the Philippines. They took a house they had lived in with their four kids for a couple of decades and packed much of it up, sold and gave away alot and just threw a bunch more. But they still ended up with a rather stuff house and an overstuffed garage that you literally have to hold the stuff up to close the door on.

It took them a couple of months to get moved in and settled. And then Art the Asshole approaches them with an offer to sell the houes to them. They, obviously, do not want to buy a house as they are two to three years away from going away forever. So Art the Asshole puts the house on the market and basically wants to sell the house out from under them, even though they had an agreement to stay for two years when they first moved in.

I hope the neighbors living there now sue the hell out of Art the Asshole even though it wouldn't teach him anything except to be more of an asshole.

Labels: assholery, neighbor

You know how a good headline pretty much tells the entire story and everything else is just details?

Well, this is a blog post that pretty much is summed up by its headline.

And now for the details. Nande and I went down for a walk this morning, before the sun baked off the fog cover and it got hot hot like it has been the last few days. Seriously, we've had scorchers lately.

It was after the kids were all in school and well before lunch so there was very little foot traffic and that means I was able to let Nande off leash so I could really run her a bit. The only problem is that the grasses are very tall right now and no other dogs or people run through to help break paths a bit.

Nande loves to run and loves games and one of her favorite game includes chasing thrown rocks. I can run her up and down the slough pretty easily. But there was danger lurking in the tall grass in the form of little nasty blood suckers. On one romp down and back, I noticed a spot on her thigh, I looked closer and it was crawling so I quickly grabbed it and squished it between two rocks. I saw another tick and killed it. And then another and another. Four ticks jumped aboard her on one run down and back.

Once dispatched we kept running some more, I made sure to check her carefully for more ticks but didn't find any.

When we were done the walk and run, we headed up to the house. After we'd been home for a good twenty minutes, I felt something on my back, scratched it and found a tick which died very quickly (pliers work very well but use a paper towel to prevent splatter). At this point, I had had more than enough of the ticks so I stripped down, checked the outside of my clothes and then the inside. And found another tick inside my shirt.

That's six ticks now. But the headline says seven ticks. The last one showed up an hour or two later, Nande showed it to me on her side and it got squished and flushed like the others.

Seven damned ticks in one walk, that was about seven more than I ever want to see again. I hate ticks because they suck!

Labels: life with a dog, ticks

URL buyers hope to cash in on tragedy at Virginia Tech.

And then he has the gall to defend himself by saying he's trying to show his contempt for firearms by featuring anti-gun content on his domains.

Nice job, Fred McChesney, you are a bottom feeding scumbag.

That's right, Sullivan has turned the big corner from sub-1 to 1! He didn't really care all that much except he did get some whipped cream with his pancakes this morning and he thought that was totally cool. Hard to believe that he's been around for a year already. But we've also been seeing friends with their new tiny, tiny babies and yeah, he's HUGE. He's a heffalump baby. But that's a good thing, big plump healthy babies are fun.

Today is also Grady's best pal's birthday, he is turning 3. Sadly, for his birthday he's going to be having surgery on his tonsils. Hopefully this will help him breathe more easily, he's had non-stop congestion for a long time now and none of the meds or therapy have offered any long term relief.

Anyway, Sully's first year has been a bit of a rough one for his family. But it has also been, on the balance, a good year together. Grady is becoming a great big brother with only occasional bad big brother episodes that mostly involve cars and not being able to share them.

We'll be having cake to celebrate tonight and his party will be the weekend after next because the coming weekend has already been reserved for Grady's pal's party.

Labels: birthday, family

O.J. Tossed From Steakhouse on Derby Eve because the owner was sickened by how much attention people gave him. That and he was quite sure O.J. murdered two people and got away with it.

Good on ya, Jeff Ruby, you've set an example that the rest of the world should follow. What good is freedom if you're a prisoner of your own public history?

It is a nice idea but the reality is that people with money, even money they aren't supposed to have, will find places that will happily accept it.

But wow, a party of 12 with O.J., that's 12 people that don't really have much of a conscience. But I guess even the devil him (or her) self has a posse for back up.

Labels: karma