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        Saturday, January 31, 2004

    Sunday, Bloody Sunday...

    Great, now I'll have that stupid song stuck in my head for the rest of the day. Was there ever a viler, more awful 'band' than U2? Okay, Sting, but seriously, I enjoyed any one song from 'The Hollies' or The Carpenters' more than I have the entire body of work those two nasal whiners have produced.

    How'm I doing? Fine, thanks. Just teaching the kids the proper way to fetch beers and snacks for Daddy tomorrow. These things are best planned ahead.
    They have already learned today what happens when you shake Daddy's beer. They carry them like they are live grenades, now, as well they should. Don't bruise the beer. I aim one at them and they flinch.
    Good Training.

    The wife bought potato chips. Bane does not like potato chips...well, unless Bane is hungry, at which time, Bane will eat an uncooked turd if he has to. But not brussel sprouts or lima beans. Bane would sooner die.
    Now, wheat thins...yummy. And those little glasses of Pimento Cheese spread from Kraft, the purveyor of all things Right and Snacky? Praise the Lord, Insallah, you can fit a wheat thin into the jar for much of the way and only require a butter knife for the bottom two inches, at which point you may begin to make little wheat thin sandwiches. Nummy.

    And chili dogs. Chili, cheese, jalapeno, yellow mustard, and onion dogs. Kosher Hebrew National dogs to try to reduce the guilt over consuming penis-shaped tubes of lips and assholes. Hey, Rabbi Approved! Yum yum!
    And a case of beer, all to myself.

    I hate the Patriots for cheating so they could win by a five year olds foreskin over my Glorious Raiders in the last Super Bowl (was it the last one? I forget...The Power Of Beer!). I hope the Panthers beat them by one point.

    Ahhhh, sweet, sweet revenge.





       

    A Small Ray Of Hope...

    There may be one Palestinian whom I do not wish to kill.

    This fellows flame needs to be nurtured most carefully, for if it is blown out, I doubt it will ever be lit again, and we need to spread his fire.

    Quickly.





       

    Resting On Your Laurels...

    I am forever running into this nonsense argument all over blogdom...and people who seem like otherwise good thinkers spin out and go right off the road when they say it.

    Here's the bogus argument: "So & so has a right to their opinion because they did such & such..."

    Or it's equally bogus cousin: "You don't have the right to your opinion because you have never done/been/lived/etc such & such..."

    Crap, crap, and double extra secret crap with a side of crap. Are you saying that because John Kerry was in Viet Nam and did heroic shit and got medals, that he at some point did not change into a pus-filled, bloviating windbag and scurrilous human being of the lowest order? Fuck me...Mengele was a Doctor, should I go to him for my second opinion? Huh?
    I'm not a Doctor, Mengele is, plus he is the scion of a wealthy family...according to your flawed logic I should have him on my panel of advisers and let him baby-sit my kids!

    Stupid.

    People change inevitably as they age and go through life altering experiences. One-time Hawks sometimes get exposed to carnage and become sissified Doves, bleating for Peace as people harder and tougher than them plan their genocide. Good men, battering themselves against the shoals of life, sometimes become bad men, or just weak men.
    It can work both ways, though it seldom does...someone who was once bad can now become good, but human nature tends to make goodness flow more naturally into bad, or more often than not, some kind of entropic, generic neutrality that tends to make decisions based on self interest rather than the rightness of a thing.

    I'm not a woman, and I'll never be able to be a mother, but should that set of irrelavent facts keep me from peering through a bathroom window and deciding that this mother who is drowning her kids is doing a Bad Thing?
    And yet you would tell me that because I am not a Jew, or a Woman, or a Black Person, or whatever, that I can bring nothing to the discussion because I have never won a Silver Star or had a vagina, or have been to Venezuela?
    Did that last paragraph twist your head a little bit?

    Good. Now you know how I feel when confronted by sincere, yet illogical nonsense that otherwise good, intelligent people write, thinking that they have said something profound.





        Friday, January 30, 2004

    6 Days...

    I just watched a thing on the History Channel about the 6 Day War that was pretty awesome.

    It seems like Arabs fight wars like teenage boys fuck...not very well, not very long, and they're looking for another one right away.

    I hope the Israelis have another one in them, now that most of the old War Horses are gone. That area is overdue for another dusting.

    How much you wanna bet that we've got a combined arms deal planned with Israel against Syria as we speak?

    Fingers crossed!





        Thursday, January 29, 2004

    Oh, Canada...

    Update: Alice! Don't read this!

    Go here in my archives to get a taste of how I feel about Canada.

    It seems that I've stepped on some toes that are attached to the feet of a particular commenter I like, over in another blog.

    Oh, well, it won't be the first unintentional Golden Shower I have dispensed, and, unless I stop writing, it won't be the last.

    The government of Canada is no different than France and Germany, either of which I would nuke without a second thought. So-called first world nations should know better. And Canada is close enough physically to be dangerous.

    When we started to tighten things up on our shared US/Canuck border, and they reacted by removing racial (i.e., raghead) identifiers from their passports and other documents, they lost any right to keep breathing as far as I'm concerned.

    I have not forgotten the horror of 9/11. If someone does me a good turn, and then turns around and molests my child, all previous debts are off, and he looks just like a target to me.

    Fuck Canada.

    Update:

    The link I set up above looks like shit when you go to it, but with persistence, you can read it. I don't have time or the inclination to fuck with it.






       

    This Is Rich!

    I have been struggling with how to deal with this Kerry "Bring It On" nonsense for days, now, and along comes the Goddess Ann Coulter who says it perfectly. An excerpt:

    As everyone has heard approximately 1 billion times by now, Kerry boasts that he has REAL experience with aircraft carriers, and if Bush wants to run on national security, then ... BRING IT ON!

    I note that when George Bush directed that precise phrase at Islamic terrorists who yearn to slaughter American women and children, liberals were enraged at the macho posturing of it. But they feel "Bring it on!" is a perfectly appropriate expression when directed at a dangerous warmonger like George Bush. ("Bring it on!" was deemed better than Kerry's first impulse, "Let's get busy, sister!")


    Follow the link above and read it all. It's lip-smacking good, and she reams Kerry out like the Holland Tunnel.





        Wednesday, January 28, 2004

    Fuck The NEA!

    I just read a blurb on Drudge (sorry) about Bush's intention to expand the money that the NEA recieves from the American taxpayer...uh, that would be you.

    Unless his program includes free tickets for any American, for any sponsored show (including air fare and hotel room and room service), there is no possible reason to do this other than he is COMPLETELY FUCKING NUTS!!!

    While I must admit, having the guy in charge of the nukes being completley bonkers makes me happy, this is just bullshit of the First Order.

    Election year or no, this is just...beyond retarded.

    Fuck.





       

    Update #3:

    There is continuing discussion between these two protaginists in the below listed abortion debate at the above link...go, read and enjoy the nicest, most civil 'fuck you fest' I have ever witnessed.

    Really.

    What are you waiting for, git!





       

    These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things...

    I present, for your edification and enjoyment:

    Sperm whale explodes in Tainan City

    Blood and guts of 17-meter long 50-ton mammal splatter sidewalks, automobiles parked nearby
    2004-01-27 / Taiwan News, Contributing Writer / By Jason Pan
    A dead sperm whale being transported through Tainan City on its way to a research station suddenly exploded yesterday, splattering cars and shops with blood and guts.

    Certified by authorities as the largest beached whale on record in Taiwan, the 17-meter 50-ton carcass was being transported by a flat-bed trailer-truck to a special research location after National Cheng Kung University officials and security guards refused to allow the whale on campus.

    The whale was to be preserved and an autopsy performed at the "Shi-Tsao Natural Preserve" in Tainan County by a team of marine biologists and taxidermists.

    National Cheng Kung University marine biologist, professor Wang Chien-ping, was on the scene and said he had he instructed the truck driver to move the carcass so the whale could be used for educational purposes and an autopsy could be done.

    The beached whale was found on along a stretch of coast in Yunlin County on Saturday.

    "The animal was close to death when someone found it beached on shore on Saturday... Because of the natural decomposing process, a lot of gases accumulated, and when the pressure buildup was too great, the whale's belly just exploded and spilled blood and the innards on the street," Wang said.

    Despite the explosion, enough of the whale remained intact that it will still be transported to the 'Shi-Tsao Natural Preserve' for a scientific examination, Wang added.

    Local news reports showed a number of people who had gathered to take photographs of the whale before it exploded in Tainan City, as well as residents and shop owners following the explosion. Many were wearing gauze-masks and trying to clean up the spilled blood and the entrails with brushes and brooms.

    "What a stinking mess! This blood and other stuff that blew out on the road is disgusting, and the smell is really awful," said one resident.

    The news also showed one section of the street along with several parked automobiles and pedestrian walkways covered in red with copious amounts of splattered whale blood.

    Lying on the trailer-truck was the dead whale - underbelly exposed with a large elongated tear where the biological gaseous blowout took place. Besides the shocking red bloody mess, large piles of whale intestines and guts were strewn along the road, leaving an unpleasant and ghastly scene for startled residents.

    According to Wang, an initial assessment suggested the animal looked like an older bull whale. He said the carcass weighed over 50 metric tons and measured 17 meters, making it the largest whale ever recorded in Taiwan. He told the press that previous record was an 11-meter sperm whale which was found beached along a Tainan County coast 8 years ago.

    Local media reported the sperm whale was still alive when it was found lying on the seashore in Yunlin County by a fisherman on Saturday morning. The man informed the coast guard and the police for help. When the authorities and conservation groups arrived to attempt a rescue during the afternoon, they found the animal had died.

    After the news had spread about the giant beached whale, a mini-circus festival atmosphere prevailed on the site. Throughout the day on Sunday, a large crowd of more than 600 local Yunlin residents and curiosity seekers, along with vendors selling snack food and hot drinks, braved the cold temperature and chilly wind to watch workmen try to haul away the dead marine leviathan.

    According to local news reports, the animal's record size proved a tough challenge for the work crews, and it took more than 13 hours, 3 large lifting cranes, and 50 workers to get the beached sperm whale loaded onto the flat-bed trailer-truck to be taken on its final trek.


    Save this, muthafukkas!

    Update:

    Here's the pic! Yay!





        Tuesday, January 27, 2004

    A Genius Speaks On Abortion...

    I wish I had written the below. It is long, but exquisite, and I am not going to italicize it as usual. It was written over on Right Thinking From The Left Coast by a poster who calls himself John Quincy Public, who does not post nearly enough.
    Now, get to it:

    Update:

    There is continuing discussion between these two protaginists at the above link...go, read and enjoy the nicest, most civil 'fuck you fest' I have ever witnessed.
    Really.

    [the italicized below is the part of some liberal assholes comment that caused the entire post. I will italicize all of the liberal quotes JQP rebuts.]
    Of COURSE the solution is the death penalty. Kill EVERYBODY

    Disingenious. As a strict issue, the questions surrounding abortion revolve around when a new life becomes a person and is imbued with the rights and protection of society as granted all other "viable" members of that society.

    If you take the tack that abortion is murder, on secular or religous grounds, then imprisonment and/or capital punishment is definitely appropriate and is a "rational" (more on your rationality below) legal consequence.


    (Your next 2 quotes are placed in reverse order)

    Additionally, does abstinence education really work as a practical matter? Data, please.

    Too many pregnancies occur because there's a lack of education


    You make the supposition about a lack of education (birth control) being responsible for pregnancy without providing data. I'm hoping you will see fit to rectify that post haste. On your point of abstinence education - an equal number of studies that I'm aware of (1 each) have shown that it does and does not work depending on which account you read. As a practical matter the methodology of one or both studies is flawed though I couldn't attest to which one. Anecdotally, there is a study that shows that teaching abstinence as well as prevention shows a decline in pregnancy rates as opposed to teaching abstinence alone. Now, I've seen your unsupported hypocritical assumptions and raised you 3 unprovided contradictory studies - care to up the ante?


    If something's being driven into YOUR kid's head, isn't it your responsibility as a parent to drive it out?

    I felt relevant to follow up your education quotes with this delicous snippets you shat into one of your later posts. If it is the responsibility of the parent to manage the education of these issues then why is the school educating children at all; be it prevention or abstinence?

    It'd be nice if parents always provided that, but they don't.

    Ah, but the public school system does (prevention anyways). Since that education is only partial contentious and unltimately nothing more than a moral issue (see your bit on governmental morality intrusions below) then shouldn't you either choose to support such intrusions (cause them parents are dummies) or oppose it (since them govt are intrusive)? 'splain.

    Though I'll defer to scientists on the queston of viability

    The general consensus seems to be 24 weeks. Note, however, that a consensus is a political point, not a scientific one.

    Eliminating abortion would be the ultimate intrusion of government into citizen's moral decision-making. Additionally, it's illegal.

    Abortion's not murder until the fetus is viable. According to the law, that's first trimester, and a little into the second.


    On one hand you state banning abortion would be an intrusion and on the other have no problem restricting abortions once the fetus is past viability. Given that you accept viability as a useful cutoff point what would be the relevant difference in picking any other viable cutoff point up to and including the point of conception? The law on this point, as well as your opinion, is damnably schizophrenic and dare we say... irrational. (more below)


    Eliminating parental consent for minors can allow for earlier access to pre-natal care.

    Disingenious. Parental consent is required for all other (and indeed safer) elective medical procedures. Parental consent is a general way of protecting those kids who are "so dumb and scared" from making a bad call in all things in life. If you haven't noticed the prevailing justification for all child related protection laws (such as statutory rape and general child abuse) are basedon the concept that because they are still children they are "dumb and scared". Given that all other child based laws (especially those that affirm parental consent) are based strictly on the fact that children are "dumb and scared" how can it be rational for this one issue above all others disallow parental guidance on the same condition - that being immaturity.


    Kids today realize that, for the most part. One of the decisions they can make is to have an abortion, a perfectly legal, rational procedure.

    Now to the "rational" bit. Legal it may be, but it is most certainly not a rational piece of law.

    An example: Taking the stance that abortion is not murder (regardless of viability). What is it? It cannot be property, otherwise the father would have a vested and equal interest in it regardless of the relevant risk of injury imposed upon the mother or father. But if the fetus isn't property how can the state force child support from a father post birth? In any other case of property law if one of 2 parties abrogates further interest in the property to the other owner then the first party is no longer responsible for the maintenance of said property. That is irrational. Additionally, if it were property and the mother chose to abrogate rights to the father then how can she possibly destroy that property (the fetus) without the father's consent? In any other case of property that would simply be a criminal charge of vandalism or property destruction levied against the mother.

    So we can conclude that as a matter of rationality that law does not consider a fetus to be proprerty.

    If then "it is her body" then we face a similar problem. Now we have created an instance where, should I meet you on the street and we engage in the physical act of shaking hands, that I may attach your wages for the warts you then transmitted to me through that handshake. This is reasonably identical as to this end you deposited on me something akin to an affliction that is not "property" and is "my body". In such a case, if I can prove your culpability in the transmission of this infliction, I may attach your wages and hold you responsible for damages due up and until the point that the infliction is removed from my body. Fair enough. But how do we then justify under existing law furthering the maintenance you owe after the infliction is removed? Or furthering maintenance should I choose to stay in good company with the given infliction once it is removed and I choose to feed and care for it, thus continuing its existence through care and feeding? Or can we then only account for child support payments as being of different name but functionally identical to awards made for "pain and suffering"? An award that would be nonsensical as the furtherance of pain was made by my choice alone. Even worse that should I not remove the infliction rapidly enough that the state now demands that either of us is now mandated and barred by law from discontinuing the nuturing of the wart you deposited on me.

    So it can not be rationally, under law, "my body" and a non-property, non-human.

    Which leaves the concept of murder. And if that's all that is left, then by necessity, abortion must be murder. But that must be equally irrational under law as we do permit abortions, but do not allow the murder of human beings except in the case of self defence. Is bearing a child then an agressive attack? If so, then abortion is fine and rational (even post viability, but not post birth). But of course, if aboriton is self defence then of necessity every man that joins in consensual sexual congress is thus a rapist; for if he were not, the pregnancy would be consensual and thus the fetus could not be considered the consequence of being under assault and in "common man" fear of imminent mortal peril (the usual requirement for a claim of killing) as a means of self-defence, not the least of which because if pregnancy were indeed a mortal peril then the human race would never have swollen to the billions of members it has, and because the act that led to that pregnancy was consensual. Clearly under this guise, if all men are rapists in consensual congress then all women must of necessity be incapable of judgement relating to their own preservation and thus be conferred to be wards of the state as there is then no doubt that they must be severly stricken by mental illness to agree to put them in such mortal peril, no less so than an attempt at suicide.

    Now that we can see that under law a fetus is neither an affliction, nor property, and we can state with utmost assurance that all sexually active men are not rapists, nor women suicidal; and that in this one case among all others the law declares that children are mature enough to make a sound decision about the course of their life in engaging in the act of a destruction/murder of a maybe-not-yet-but-will-be-soon-person - can you still call the law rational?

    Aside from my own opinions on the subject of abortion, if you find justice and equity in the current state of law regarding abortion then it is incumbent on you to address solutions to the host of other injustices incurred by the allowance of such an act. Or, like me, you can accept that in civilized society that abortion is no different than murder, as a practical matter if not a historic and moral one, as the only way to address the various irrationalities under law as it exists is to destroy the very foundation of civiliation itself. That is a ncessary outcome as you must either consider pre and post humans thus an affliction and cleanse society of them for the public health, or state that all humans are non-humans and thus have no right to life or liberty and simply are the cattle of the state to be bought and sold and butchered as best befits the state's economic whims. Neither condition may exist under the rule of law or our society in particular; though I certainly know some who engage in Pavlovian drooling at the anticipation of such a society coming to be.

    Update:

    There is continuing discussion between these two protaginists at the above link...go, read and enjoy the nicest, most civil 'fuck you fest' I have ever witnessed.




        Monday, January 26, 2004

    Terrorism Update...

    No need to be alarmed!

    Feh.





       

    I Bet Drudge Is Queer...

    I picked this article off of his website just now...is that not the gayest sounding name for a gay newspaper, ever? Drudge does this a lot. Ergo, Drudge=Homo.

    As I read the hyperbolic articles, my reactions to the deaths of these queers runs from "Ho-Hum", to "Good!" Typical of those simpering flits that they are screaming about an epidemic of gay-bashing when there have only been two attacks in the area in question the entire year. I guess if you've smacked one homo, you've smacked them all...hmmmm, I wish.

    Uhhh, two attacks, and two possible murders. Murders? By heteros? Heteros who have the stomach to go into a gay bar and take the time to cut one particular sissy out of the herd and murder him? I doubt it.

    Folks are settling down and getting used to, or rather 'numbed by' all the faggotry going on all around them, and they forget how it was when the world was a far saner place.
    The FBI, in the past, statistically proved that crimes committed by homosexuals were spectacularly more violent that those by heterosexuals.
    The DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual for Mental Disorders, the manual mental health professionals use as their Bible to determine what type of mental illness they are dealing with) labeled homosexuality correctly for what it is, to wit, a severe personality disorder with narcissism as a key component.

    The radical (and violent) homosexual groups fought and screamed about this so loud and so long that the FBI quit that type of profiling, and the DSM deleted references to homosexuality as a perversion. Gay activists disrupted and physically attacked members (Psychiatrists) of the conference until they gave up and made the changes so they could continue with their work.
    Nice job, fags.

    I never used to hate queers before. Oh, I had the visceral shudder that the normal get when confronted by the abnormal, but I didn't cheer when they die like I do now. I had gay acquaintances, and as I've mentioned before, I ran with a bunch of lesbos, and even slept with a few.

    No, they knew their place, and stayed in it. They stayed closeted, and I never saw a gay bashing in my life until recently. I knew gays that were in all positions of society...they knew they were defective, and dutifully kept it hidden, and everybody got along.

    Now, you may hate me for these words. It matters not a whit to me. But I want you to answer one thing, honestly, to yourself. When you see some flaming flit on the television, or see two men kissing in any circumstances, do you get an impulse, however briefly, to vomit and then smash them in their prissy faces until you strike blood?

    I thought so.

    Hey, queers? Sow the wind, reap the whirlwind. There will come a time in the future when the protections of PC and Law aren't there anymore. When people see that the shackles of societal control are off, there is going to be a reckoning. This goes for tatooed freaks and people with multiple piercings, too. When they are released from their constraints, people tend to kill people that look different from themselves, and people against whom they have held smouldering grudges for a long time.

    Bad day to be a homo.

    Update:

    Someone else is pondering the homo thing.






        Sunday, January 25, 2004

    Anal Impact...

    I just noticed that 'Deep Impact' started at 9 pm. Before I saw this movie, I never knew that it was possible to hate Tea Leoni. Or Morgan Freeman. Or Robert Duvall.

    This movie gives 'Signs', and 'Paycheck' a run for their money for being the most boringly stupid wastes of mega-bucks I've ever salted my eyeballs with.





       


    My life is rated NC-17.
    What is your life rated?




       

    This is an excellent piece of writing. Ever so often I run across a piece like this that humbles me and makes me question whether I should ever dare to write another word. And he seems to do this so effortlessly...not that I spend a whole lot of effort on my mutterings.





       

    Hmmmm...


    What Video Game Character Are You? I am a Base-defender.I am a Base-defender.


    What's mine is mine, and I make sure everyone knows it. Nobody invades my space without permission - I'd destroy everything I own before letting someone take it from me. I tend to be forward-facing, which is both a strength and a weakness. What Video Game Character Are You?






        Saturday, January 24, 2004

    How To Pick Up Women...

    Read this article, and then forget everything you read.

    Yeah, it works, but it's wrong.

    Wanna get laid? Who doesn't? Just never forget that women want it as much as you...maybe even more. Just be clean, be nice, and ask nice.

    I used to average 35 relationships a year at one time...now that's dysfunctional.

    Tell the chick in the bar that you are there to drink, and you only brought enough money for one. Then, if she stays with you to chat, tell her you are going to a movie in an hour (know your movie schedules!), and if she wants to come along, she needs to be quiet, cuz yer a big movie nut. Offer to take separate cars, but she can come with you if she wants, or you can both go in her car. I prefer to be a passenger in her car, because after the movie, I don't have to worry about her head hitting the steering wheel as she leans over my lap.

    See? Be careful how you use the force...





       

    Is Anybody Else Tired Of THis Shit?

    Found this little tidbit today:

    FREEPORT, Texas ? A security guard at a BASF Corp. chemical plant was shot in the shoulder Saturday after he approached a suspicious truck and talked to a man who said he had been taking pictures, authorities said.

    Hey, perfectly normal, right?

    The guard told police the gunman was a man of Middle Eastern descent with bushy hair and a mustache. The man was driving a white pickup with tinted windows and a black stripe.

    Hmmmmmm....

    BASF spokeswoman Sharon Rogers said there was no indication the shooting was linked to terrorism.

    What, we have the fucking Psychic Friends working in law enforcement now? Hey lady! Raghead with a gun at a chemical plant!
    Numb cunt...

    FBI officials in Houston confirmed they were notified of the shooting but would not comment further, saying the Freeport Police would handle the investigation. Shortly after the incident, local police searched the area with a canine unit and found gun power on the scene, as well as the bullet used in the shooting.

    Your tax dollars hard at not working...

    The suspect left after the shooting and did not get inside the plant. The guard had been patrolling the plant's perimeter outside the gate and near a water tower but in view of the plant's ammonia tank, officials said.

    Anybody remember Bhopal India? I sure do.

    It's not gonna break my heart any if a bunch of stupid Texans are flopping around like dying fish soon. These people are too stupid to live. The story says that the Security Guard drove himself to the front gate where an off-duty deputy working as a guard called the police. Where was the shot guards radio? Why didn't he approach gun drawn after radioing the vehicle plates in?

    If you sleep better at night knowing stupid clowns like these are guarding our naughty-vapors, than you deserve what's coming to you. Fuck, this pisses me off.

    Update:

    Go read this.





       

    It's That Time...

    My breasts are heavy, and I feel like singing...

    I think I'm Minstrelating...





       

    Kindred Spirit...

    I think I found one of my illegitimate offspring. This guy has got to be related to me. You folks think I expose a lot of myself here...you ain't seen nuthin, and this guy sounds like me at several points in my life...probably why I'm still unemployed.

    It's long, so go grab a couple of beers and a phat glass of whiskey, sit down and enjoy. It made me pee twice...course, I'm gettin old and all.

    Don't be an ass-flange...get to it!





        Friday, January 23, 2004

    Die, Whoopie, Die!!!

    Seeing Whoopie debut her new children's show on Nickelodoen this morning caused the venerable Captain Kangaroo to drop over dead from shock and horror.

    Sandra Bernhard, singing a duet with Whoopi called 'The Macaroni Song', done to the music of 'The Macarena', was more than Our Dear Captains bilge pump could take, and he dropped like a stone, blood spurting from his nostrils as those two whores continued their vapid ode to pasta, accompanied by AlGore's favorite tune.

    The sad part is, if I was single...and really drunk...and in a dark, smoky bar, I would probably bug Sandra for sex until she took me out to the car and blew me to shut me up....ohhh, those flaccid, pulsating lips...

    Well, anyway, crap. The Cap'n is dead, long live The Cap'n. He was a major force in my early childhood. I know damn well he and Mr. Greenjeans were drunk as Lords, or high on the wacky weed more than once on that show. WAAAY too much giggling and grabass going on. And I still fear the possibility of a random shower of ping pong balls to this very day. The mere pokking of one ball on a pong table chills my blood...and I hate mooses.

    Mr Rogers...The Captain...Miss Nancy...that would be Romper Room, you philistines. When they replaced my beloved Miss Nancy with Miss Sally, that was my first lesson in the fickle, duplicitous nature of women, and I never forgot it.

    Well, I go to pour out a forty for my homey's...memory lane is a twisted, treacherous passageway...





       

    Saving For Posterioriarity, Part Deux...

    Here's another gem from this comment section that I would hate to see get swept under the archival rug:

    My little boy has shoes that sparkle with light when he walks...it was fun to watch the chimps working security at the airport deal with that...and he thought the wand was so cool that he kept spinning around to watch as the chimp tried to wand him, and of course he'd stuffed 14 different pockets full of Hot Wheels so the wand was hooting and beeping all over the place.
    I have tears streaming down my cheeks from watching this and laughing so hard, and behind me my wife is going into a frenzy because my 3 year old daughter won't let anybody take her doll from her to put through the x-ray machine, so I help by telling her "Honey, they wanna cook your baby!" and she comes unglued and finally the chimps, realizing that we are all blond, blue-eyed American types, and being singularly tired of this particular family, wave us through.
    My daughter is clutching her baby to her chest and handing out free "fuck you!" looks to everybody as she passes them...they're lucky, cuz she's going through a biting stage.

    (Some genius responds) You did hear about the toy gun in the Teddy Bear, right?

    I riposte:

    Duh. And the doll went through, that's when I told her they were cooking it. She wouldn't stop giving the damn thing fluids from her 'magic' juice bottle...even tried to snipe some of Daddy's drink to help the little thing. Morbid little twat kills her babies all the time, then prays to God to bring them back to life and then nurses them back to health. Another reason I'm not down with church.

    Talk about your Munchausen-By Proxy...


    True stories of the Bane Clan...





       

    Saving For Posterioriarity...

    I would hate for this gem to get lost in the archived comments of another's blog, so I gently transplant this over to mine so that my treasured readers might enjoy it:

    (Some guy said) I don't think anyone has forgotten the assasination of John Lennon.

    To which I responded:

    Heck no! I celebrate it every year!

    "Imagine there's no Lennon...
    it's easy if you try,
    he's down below us...
    where forever he will fry

    Imagine there's no Yoko...
    I hope that bitch dies soon,
    she fucked up the Beatles
    that skanky slant-eyed poon...

    You may say, I'm a dreamer....
    but I am not the only one,
    so let's release Mark Chapman,
    and give that boy a gun..."


    Those of you who require a tissue...I understand.





       

    Muppets=Hitler...

    As I pass through the living room this morning, to what did my wondering eye appear, but the vile mug of Koffi Annan, that fucking queer.

    Yes, dear readers, the corrupt 'leader' of the UN was on Sesame Street, attempting to warp the minds of my tots.

    Then, to my horror, one foul Muppet moppet turned to the other Muppets and said, "Let's solve our problem the UN Way...together!"

    'Click' went the channel. Guess I have to block PBS now.

    Long overdue...





        Thursday, January 22, 2004

    If This Doesn't Piss You Off...

    You just need to be pissed on. Go read this story, and tell me you are not ready to take up arms, you should forfeit all rights to call yourself an American.

    Fuck da po-lice.





       

    I LOVE Enterprise...

    Take this test...be honest!

    You're Charlie "Trip" Tucker. You stay down to earth no matter how far away from it you travel. You have a charm that always works to your advantage. When it comes to your friends, you're fiercely loyal almost to a fault. No matter what the situation, you've got the best lines out of anyone on Enterprise.

    Take the Enterprise Quiz!

    Brought to you by redanubis.



    I can live with that. Sooner or later, he's gonna pork T'Pol...mark my words. I'd have already stunned her and shagged her and be in the brig for it.





       

    The First Homo...

    Little Ronnie Reagan Jr makes me want to kill him every time I see that smirking smile on his dick-locker.

    Does he still get Secret Service protection? If so, too bad.

    What a fucking little puke of a queer.





       

    Crap, is it Thursday already? My how time flies when you are unemployed!

    I am going to a cattle call at a tech company today...the unemployment runs out in a few weeks. I might actually have to work for a living. I have been out of work since last April 30th...quite a run, when you think about it. Makes up for all of those vacations I never got because I was too busy...or so I tell myself.

    Crap, I am about as motivated as a salted garden slug.

    Think I'll go take a nap...





        Monday, January 19, 2004

    Exorschism...

    I normally don't like to eat scraps from Drudge's plate, but this story caught my eye, today.

    In case the link dies, it is a story about a six year old girl being found dead in a hotel room after the parents and two other children were apprehended walking down the street naked around midnight. Police believe that the girl died as the result of an exorcism, and her back was broken, along with other of her bones.

    This story disturbs me on several levels...

    First off, in the several stories and updates I've read on this today, nowhere does it mention the family's race. If they were gap-toothed white trash from the hill country, you can bet the press would have trumpeted it. Since the family had been put up in this hotel since last July by a local church, I am going to guess that they are hispanic South Americans.

    By sanitizing facts that they apparently don't want us to know, it makes me wonder just what damn good the First Amendment is to us, anyway? If Americans knew some of the whacked out beliefs and practices (and communicable diseases) the immigrants living amongst them have and do, Americans would be even more intent on rolling back both legal and illegal immigration than they are now. Every cop, social worker, etcetera that has routine interaction with these kinds of people has horror stories they could tell you all day without stopping.

    No, the kind of PC, racial sillyness that has brought us crap like todays Federally Mandated Race-Based Holiday! also keeps us uninformed and in the dark about the dark waters we are being submerged in.

    Secondly, why are people so quick to judge whether or not there was maybe a damn good reason for this family to leave all of their worldly goods and their dead daughter behind in that motel room?
    As a Christian, I believe in God, and I believe in his construct, Satan. Is it possible that there was something genuinely evil and otherworldly going on in that room that would send a naked family stumbling out into the freezing cold?

    Well, this is cutting into my Siesta Time, so I'm going to log off for now...but I'm still a ponderin...

    UPDATE:

    Well, turns out the parents are honkeys, leastways they have honkey sounding names...could be black, too. Whatever, my points above stand on their own.





        Sunday, January 18, 2004

    More Raceschism...

    The Eagles/Panthers game just started. I want the Panthers to win because they have a white quarterback...ooops! I can't say that? Whaddaya mean? I thought this was a free country? I thought I had rights and stuff?

    Huh? You mean, I can be prosecuted for something I've said? You mean, that if I say I like people that are the same color as me better, I will be ostracized and persecuted? They could take my kids and destroy my business? Seize my computers?

    No shit? What the fuck?

    How did this happen, and who do I need to kill to put a stop to it?

    Update:

    There's about four minutes left in this game. I predicted to myself at the beginning of it that they would win, because from the first, it looked like they were the ones who wanted it. The Panther who got hit, fumbled, and recaught his own ball told me right then who was coming out on top.






       

    Sorry...

    Well, not really. I have been writing in my mind, but none of it has gotten posted. Please, try to not slit your wrists.

    Tomorrow...what the fuck? I mean, ahem, today...being Sunday and all, promises to be an intense, alcohol-fueled, football intensive day.

    I am only watching because I want to enjoy the demise of the vile Patriots (I thought the Patriot Act took care of those choad smokers?)

    Anyway, I want them to win, as I've said earlier, and then die ignominiously in the Superbowl, choking on their own vomit, as the winning quarterback pounds a stake into their black hearts, and their mascot parades him around the field while he proudly displays Brady's dripping head, holding it up by the facemask.

    Ooooo, fifteen yards for 'taunting'...too late, Ref! He's fucking DEAD!

    Oh, yeah...





        Friday, January 16, 2004

    Darn Kids...

    You may notice that people (like me) who have kids, tend to write about them a lot. This is not to provide filler, as some have accused. No no no, this is because having them around is like having a hyperactive dog that knows how to open the fridge.

    Actually, one kid is hands down worth any five dogs any time. I would rent a house to someone who has an alligator before I rented to someone with an infant.

    My 3 year old daughter weighs forty pounds, and is 42 inches tall as of Tuesday. I have a 32 inch inseam. A lttle math, and you can calculate that I can get a pretty decent head-butt from my loving daugher when she pitches her head back in one of her frequent fits...yep, BAM!, right in the balls.

    I dozed off on the couch this morning. 'Dora The Explorer' has that effect on me. I woke up to a slap in the nuts...seems she was checking to see if I was really asleep. She learned a couple of new words, and a valuable lesson in the importance of ducking.

    "Daddy, why are you holdin your pee-pee?"

    Aaarrrgghhhh...





       

    My Favorite Story Of The Day...

    Go here while it lasts. Day-uhm! That's a big friggin dog to be treating that way...

    UPDATE:

    Too bad...the link is dead. The story and picture involved some pervert molesting this big-ass pit-bull. What do you do when you find some asshole shagging your dog, anyway? The cops are just gonna laugh, so you may as well just shoot the fucker. Shoot the dog, too, because you will never be able to look at Fido the same way again.

    He may have just been asking for it...





        Thursday, January 15, 2004

    Your Call Is Important To Us...

    Please stay on the line...hey, dipshit, I called you, which means I want to talk to somebody there, so I don't need you interrupting some pretty nice music every 48 seconds (yes, I timed it) to beg me to stay on hold! Why would I hang up?

    Just shut the fuck up, play the music, and get to me as soon as you can, I know I'm not the only person in the world!

    Fucking VA.





       

    I Kinda Love Dennis Miller...

    Go read this article. Except for the fact that he's dead wrong on abortion, Mr. Miller is a pretty fine guy.

    Here's a quote I love from the article.

    Surprisingly he is tougher on Lenny Bruce. "Lenny was a heroin addict, and I could care less about heroin addicts," Mr. Miller said. "Once I hear a guy is a heroin addict, and they tell me he's a genius, I think, really? I'm not trying to be judgmental. But anybody whose last vision is of a tile pattern on a bathroom floor, I don't know what kind of genius they are."

    You gotta love a guy who shoots straight like that.





        Wednesday, January 14, 2004

    Go Read This...

    Go here and read this. Have a drink or two, first, and leave a trail of breadcrumbs so you can find your way back out of his convoluted rhetoric. I found this link via The Instapundit, and I almost wish that I hadn't. Prepare to go inside the dark, dripping, empty space that is a Liberals mind...empty except for all of the gas needed to keep his ego inflated, anyway.

    Good luck!




       

    Great News!

    Makers of premium wines are going to start putting screw-on caps on their wine bottles.

    Hallelujah! Those corks are a bitch to get out when you're driving.





        Tuesday, January 13, 2004

    Fucking Ay-Rabs!

    What shitty shots they are, thank God...I guess.

    Except I'm not thanking Him for sparing Ted Koppel in Iraq today.

    According to the news I just heard, the little Ragamuffins missed Ted Koppels huge toad-like head with fucking rocket launchers!!

    Jeez, guys! Practice practice practice!


    .




       

    Whores R Us...

    That must be where some children's shows go shopping for celebrity narrators. I was just watching Nickelodeon with my little boy and a cartoon came on narrated by...wait for it...SANDRA BERNHARD!!

    In the galaxy of gap-toothed whores, she is down the list from Madonna, and that's saying something.

    Great choice, Nickelodeon! Way to strengthen my faith in y'all. Dumb bastards...

    Lileks, as usual, covers this more eloquently than I.





        Monday, January 12, 2004

    Emode Sucks...

    Whenever I hear an ad start for Emode's dating service on the radio, I leap for the off button. Yuck, all that sugar could give you diabetes. Besides, as I've mentioned here before, I took their compatability test and was told that out of the hundreds of thousands of members, I was not compatible with a damn one of them. Go figure.

    This may be why:

    "Bane, the shape of your hand reveals that you are especially good at Letting your love flow" (Emphasis mine)

    This is the response I got after I took their 'Palm Evaluation' test. Ahhhh...that's why I don't need people, I am apparently very good at doing it for myself. Shoot, I didn't need to take a test to know that...





       

    Hot Damn!

    Look at this picture and try to tell me you wouldn't want to ride that hard and put it away wet!

    No, not the horse, dipstick. Man, if I lived in Florada I'd be headed to her house with a bunch of roses and a pocketful of Ruffees...and some Viagra for me.





       

    My Favorite Story Of The Day...

    Go here while it lasts. Day-uhm! That's a big friggin dog to be treating that way...

    UPDATE:

    Too bad...the link is dead. The story and picture involved some pervert molesting this big-ass pit-bull. What do you do when you find some asshole shagging your dog, anyway? The cops are just gonna laugh, so you may as well just shoot the fucker. Shoot the dog, too, because you will never be able to look at Fido the same way again.

    He may have just been asking for it...





       

    Told Ya!

    I see Vox Day took his comments down today. Ha ha! There's a reason I don't have any. Some comments sections are kind of fun, but if you are on the side of the angels, you will get flocked by the devils minions soon, and hard, and it is not worth the bother to clean them up.

    I like the sites where you have to register. I may do that myself here one day. It'd be nice to take some turd you despise and trample on his rights...I know, I know...see? If I had comments, I would have just started a three week flame war with all kinds of dreary argument about what constitutes 'free speech' vs 'private property' and whatnot until you just want to puke.

    Unless a poster is too stupid to live, I rarely jump on another commenter...first. But when some groin-pull insults me in public and begins to hound me, I will usually take a moment to flay them, and then shun them from that point on. I have my very own stalker over in the Iraqi blogs.

    I have not seen a phenomenon more overblown in a long time than this blogging business. Shameful self-promotion and whoring seem to be the coin of the realm. There are about three blogs that I would miss reading if the whole thing shut down tomorrow...Allahpundit comes to mind. Uh, gimme a minute...nope, can't think of another one right now, I'll get back to you...Oh! The Tard Blog, if she would ever update, makes the wife and I laugh til we cry. (I just went and checked...she hasn't posted since 2002, apparently, but even rereading her old stuff is better than 99% of the new stuff I read).

    Okay, two blogs. Sorry. If you are a blogger, and give a shit about me liking you, do something original. Don't start your day regurgitating Matt Drudge. I've already read him before I get to yours. Is his site a blog? Okay, there's three. Repeat after me, "there can be only one!" and quit ripping him off. Unless you are a pretty deep thinker, I probably do not care what you think about Drudge's latest anyway.

    Quit slamming liberals. We know they are stupid, useless, and should all be gassed in death camps, but unless you are being painfully creative about it, you're preaching to the choir, and my only church on Sunday is a football stadium.
    If I change the TV channel when one of these fuckheads (See: Michael Moore) comes on, why would I want to see their name or read about anything they say in your blog?

    Here is a creative News/Rant site that keeps me coming back for more. He's pretty much a one trick pony ("It's all about the Joooos!) and yet he keeps me coming back for more. Pretty pictures and good writing keep me coming back even though he posts much of his stuff in horrible Pepto Bismol Pink blocks that limpens my wrists as I read. Make a note of that, dammit Aaron.

    Here is another one...write like this, and I will come...repeatedly. Make me sad when a day or two goes by where you haven't posted (and my apologies in advance for not doing the same for you).

    Since I'm on a roll, here's another one...

    I go here every weekday, as well as here. The Instapundit is the only guy I've seen that violates my Drudge Rule (above) and gets away with it. Sadly, he's not rabidly anti-gay, but a fine writer nonetheless, and seriously tied in to the Power Structure.

    Well, I'm starting to bore myself, and I don't want to take you there with me, so, bye for now.





       

    It's A Good Day...

    ...I didn't use my AK...

    Hey, when you wake up, flick on the TV, and there's a press conference about Michael Jackson going on. You can turn the TV off and lay back down and know that there is nothing big happening at this minute you need to worry about.





        Sunday, January 11, 2004

    Fuck The Eagles...

    I hate the City of Philadelphia, it's viperous football 'fans', The Philadildophia Eagles, and Donovan 'Soup-Pimp' Mcnabb and his ugly mom.

    In case you were wondering.






       

    Football Fans...

    There are two main types...

    The Vox Day type, and the Bane type. I admire the Vox Day type way more, and lift my horn to God and Odin that I am not one. WAYYY too much work.

    Go to Mr Day's blog, hit CTRL+F, and do a search for 'football', and you will see a young man at the pinnacle of his game, a veritable walking encyclopaedia of Obsessive Compulsive Football Disorder (OCFD). Pay close attention to his discussion of Football video game play...

    I got a free copy of NFL 2K3 when I bought my Playstation 2 last year. I opened it and plugged it in, ready to play...I Love Football! Then I opened the manual. This crap looks too much like work. I play games for relaxation, not frustration. I have yet to get back to that game, and I feel like my soul is stained because of it.

    On a football related note, I just want to see the Patriots in the Super Bowl, playing whoever can damage and humiliate them the most, and snatch victory from them in the last few seconds...at this moment it looke like the Colts will be providing that service...woopsie! Edgerin James just scored on the KC's lame-ass defense. Peyton? Destroy the Patriots, and I may stop calling you a flat-faced homo every time you take your helmet off, you pug-nosed lantern-jawed moon-faced creep.

    If you read my blog regularly, you will have noted that I am a fan of The Glorious Raiders. I stopped being one when they left Oakland, but they have rectified that, so I have returned to my first love. I do not mention them lately, and we will not discuss why.
    I was a Cowboys fan since the beginning...Craig Morton is my cousin. I loved Dallas up until Landry left. I flirted with Bronco love for awhile while Morton was there, but the Broncos are not even worthy of my spit. Oh how I hate John Elway to this day. And the Bucs? With the traitor coach who shall not be named? I actively root for an act of terrorism to occur in whatever venue they play in that does not include my Glorious Raiders. If you do not secretly wish to see the quarterback of your most hated team drop from a well-placed rifle shot through the ear-holes when he has your team down by 20 at the half, you are not a football fan.

    No, the Vox Day Football Fan knows all of the stats and figures, the numbers of even the third string punter, and knows in their bones the names of plays and who has which numerals on their jerseys and the names of the venues in which various teams are playing for the entire season.

    The Bane Football Fan knows where the last Michelob Ultra is in the fridge...behind the sour cream in the back bottom left above the crisper. The BFF knows instinctively how long to microwave the pizza rolls to just where they are about to burst, but not quite, and knows that baking them in the oven is better if you have time or can get your wife to do it.
    The BFF knows that he loves whatsisname, you know, the quarterback for the Glorious Raiders, but in a manly way that would only allow us to pat one another on our butts. The BFF is terribly sad that Dan Rostinkowski, the finest Linebacker in Raider history next to Howie Long is gone with a concussion, perhaps forever.

    The BFF knows that the Packers are about to play...uh, somebody, and Brian Favre kicks ass, and the BFF's wife is downstairs making chimichangas, and all is right with the world. And Coors ads kick ass and makes the BFF wish to touch himself in a way he doesn't like or understand...





        Saturday, January 10, 2004

    Is It Any Wonder I Drink?

    Some more nature lovers got themselves ate by mountain lions this week. I wonder if they were thinking about the Cycle of Life as big canines cracked through the the back of their skulls... while they smelt the wild beasts hot, fetid breath, dust puffing up into their dying nostrils as the animal drug them away from their fallen mountain bike, to dismember them at its leisure...do you think they got one last sexual thrill as the big cats rough tongue rubbed at the base of their neck?

    Hey, you dipshits voted for the hunting bans! Don't come crying to me when your toddler gets snatched out of her Barbie Playhouse in the back yard as you scream from the kitchen window, your child dangling from a beasts mouth as it rushes off to some terrible purpose...hey, get some ziplock bags from the drawer by the sink, and go get your childs plastic shovel from the sandbox...those steaming turds you'll find in the next day or two used to be your child, so treat them as sacred, and place them respectfully in the little casket that contains the paltry remains of what has now become cat food because you love nature so damn much. And take solace in the fact that death is natural, too.

    And the wolves are taking hold again in Idaho and Wyoming...oh, let's just say The West, because they roam, and they spread like a virus.
    Wolves eat every last scrap of one of their victims, be it a song bird, or a moose. Every last scrap...hair, teeth, assholes, and elbows...clothing, buttons, eyebrows, zippers...remember that the next time some pompous dipshit tells you that "There have been no recorded wolf attacks on a human being..."

    Lotta folks have gone missing, forever. Maybe they just stepped out into the woods for cigarettes...





       

    Weasley Cluck...

    I try to ignore this lunatic as much as possible...I am positive that he sneaks into chicken coops at night and sucks the blood from the necks of broody hens while they warm their eggs...just looking at his triangular, serpent-head has been known to make fecund women spontaneously abort, and infants die in their cribs...

    And now, he has added insanity to his resume.

    You people are not making his security detail work nearly hard enough...fuck me, I am surprised that a team of pissed off Serbs hasn't removed both his kidneys by now.

    What a consummate retard. If politics had a good name, he would fuck it up.





        Friday, January 09, 2004

    Martial Law...

    It is inevitable, you know. I just keep looking for the trigger...the 'setup' if you will. This generations 'Tonkin Gulf'.

    I may have just found it.

    Think about it...

    ...if Bush is some kind of Globalist Freak, butting heads with The Supremes could be the excuse. He can't afford to be exposed, and have his captives found to be harmless businessmen, and his war exposed as nothing but a house of cards...

    ...if Bush is some kind of Other-Directed Uber Patriot, martial law could be the only way he could protect many sensitive, ongoing, and potentially devastating war scenarios from being compromised.
    He sees the corrupt judges we have been saddled with by history for what they are, and needs to checkmate them immediately.

    Well, either way, one can always hope, can't one?





       

    Gettin Racialistical...Again...

    Me, stuck at home...babysitting. How to quiet the children? Damn, out of bourbon, so I'll turn on The Hypnotizer...ahhh, Peace.

    The nippers sink into the couch as their muscles relax and their eyes glaze over...I finish feeding the 3 year old her Life cereal, spooning it into the side of her mouth, because 'Dora The Explorer' is in near complete control of her forebrain.

    I decide to have some toast, and sit down to seek Nirvana with my little ones. Soon, I am beginning to feel left out, and somehow inferior. I am not a lttle bilingual Spanish-ish girl...I am not her monkey sidekick, I have nothing to identify with, here. My kids are shouting out Spanish words and phrases at Dora's command, and I sit, cast aside, munching toast.

    And then the inevitable advertisements come on. Again I feel snubbed...abandoned by my beloved Kellog's and General Mills.
    I am not black, and the black families shown have a much nicer house than I do. I am not any of the multi-colors or multi- cultures that are being shown...I am just a white guy who didn't think about his whiteness until he was outnumbered by all of the other colors brought into his own living room.
    I just couldn't identify, even when they did show a few 'token' whites, because I do not use a wheelchair or crutches, nor am I a mongoloid (I didn't make that up, one of the tokens was a happy mongoloid), nor do I wear coke-bottle thick glasses and have goofy hair and goggle eyes.

    I hear folks natter about how we (and by 'we', I assume they mean white people) are "losing our country" somehow, as if we are under some kind of mental and physical invasion of some sort.

    Nahhhh....

    We aren't, are we?





        Thursday, January 08, 2004

    How Do Kids Survive?

    My parents have a picture of me at the top of a water tower. I look very small way up there. I was about 10 years old, and I'd climbed it to show off to my friends, and someone had ran to get my Dad. It's telling that the first thing he thought to do was grab the camera.
    The tower was an ancient concrete cylinder, with one rickety steel ladder going up its moss encrusted side. The ladder was missing many bolts, and lost a few more as I climbed. I didn't climb such a high structure again until I climbed the rappelling tower at Amphibious Assault School at Coronado...and I could see most of San Diego from the top of that one, or so it seemed.

    I should have never seen my 12th birthday, let alone my 15th, and so on. That same year as my crazy little self climbed the tower, I skateboarded down a 1/4 mile stretch of road that was almost a perfect 45 degree angle. My skateboard was essentially nothing more than a board with a set of skate wheels on it. I couldn't make the turn at the bottom of the hill so I rocketed through a hedge and somersaulted the 40 or 50 feet up to this old lady's front porch. I was lucky it was soft grass, that day.
    I spent much of that period of my life walking slowly home, picking gravel out of various bloody wounds, and keening about the unfairness of the gravity and kinetic energy conspiracy.

    I took my kids back there for a visit and showed them these various high points of my childhood. They stood at the top of my skateboarding hill in awe. They refused to believe me, so on the way back down I took my hands off the steering wheel and put them over my eyes and wobbled the steering wheel with my knee until they were all screaming. Heh. They became believers. They looked up at the water tower in awe, too. So did I. Someone had cut off the bottom ten feet or so of the ladder...because of me? I'll never know, but I would have climbed it that day to hear my kids squeal. But it was still one high, scary looking mother of a tower.

    Now that they are adults, the stories of their own adventures squeak out here and there. I see pictures of my one son hanging off of a line with five other Marines...oh yes, he's the one with his arms and legs splayed out doing his spider imitation, as the others hang on grimly for dear life.

    I'm afraid that it's genetic...





       

    Stop Me If You've Heard This One...

    A US Air Force C-141 is scheduled to leave Thule Air Base, Greenland at midnight. During the pilot's preflight check, he discovers that the latrine holding tank is still full from the last flight. So a message is sent to the base, and an airman who was off duty is called out to take care of it.

    The young man finally gets to the air base and makes his way to the aircraft, only to find that the latrine pump truck has been left outdoors and is frozen solid, so he must find another one in the hangar, which takes even more time. He returns to the aircraft and is less than enthusiastic about what he has to do Nevertheless, he goes about the pumping job deliberately and carefully (and slowly) so as to not risk criticism later.

    As he's leaving the plane, the pilot stops him and says, "Son, your attitude and performance has caused this flight to be late, and I'm going to personally see to it that you are not just reprimanded, but punished."

    Shivering in the cold, his task finished, he takes a deep breath, stands up tall and says, "Sir, with all due respect, I'm not your son; I'm an Airman in the United States Air Force. I've been in Thule, Greenland for 11 months without any leave, and reindeer are beginning to look pretty good to me. I have one stripe; it's two-thirty in the morning, the temperature is 40 degrees below zero and my job here is to pump shit from your aircraft. Now just exactly what form of punishment did you have in mind?"


    I've met a lot of officers. I've probably met about five good ones, and three of them were Warrants (helo pilots).





       

    I Love Peggy Noonan...

    And not just because she neatly snips Howard Dean's testicles off and leaves them wobbling around on the floor like little Raisenette's...





       

    Referring To The Previous (Below) Post...

    Bane, well he's just dull. Sitting on the sidelines licking his chops like a hyena, waiting for the scraps. Loathed by ALL, but somehow tolerated.

    The onliest, slightest, 'smart thing' to come out of a frozen-ass, snowed-in and iced-in week of utter boredom...and it had to be contained in his final post before the thread was closed...

    I like his imagery, as ungrammatical as it is (who am I to talk? Fuck you!)... it is the one piece of true enjoyment I got out of the whole, dreary experience.





        Wednesday, January 07, 2004

    Fucking Mongoloons...

    I would mention the name of the blog, but, much like your grandmother's underwear, it should remain unmentionable...
    for a reason.

    Whew...I can now empathize with sewer workers, and animal control officers that have to clean up road kill in high summer.

    "What the heck is a Mongoloon?", you ask...well, it is a word I just coined that combines the best attributes of 'mongoloid' and 'baboon' and 'loon' into a lovely word that describes the cretinous mongoloons I have been trolling for the last several days.

    One of the 'Homo Erectus Self Abusus' even stole a long time word of mine...'blogtard', and tried to claim it as his own. I know...sad but true.

    If any of you, my dear readers, want to enjoy my skewering of these twinks, and perhaps taste their weak blood for yourself, email me and I will provide the links. Lee, wisely, shut down the major thread where much of the nonsense (punctuated by my understated brilliance) occurred.

    The primary, sweater-bedecked closet queen that I performed my most brilliant secondary trolling in his 'blog' is a self-confessed mutater of the words of others, so I am sorry, but you will not be able to share with me the deftness with which I played he and the other mongoloonians there...I should have done print screens...I've failed you...I abase myself.

    The worst thing I can do to him is to never mention him, or ever lend my august presence to his pitiful enterprise again...vengeance is a dish best served...not at all.





        Tuesday, January 06, 2004

    Bringing Out The Missus...

    What's this with John 'Treebeard' Kerry bringing out his dust mop of a wife?

    He can...well, she can afford the finest follicle-wrangler on the planet to come fix her up.

    Nevertheless, their handlers trot her out looking like she just pulled her apron off over her head....She looks like she just dusted cookie flour off her hands while hurrying from the kitchen to greet...
    "Surprise!" the press that just magically showed up.

    Hey, it worked for the Clinton's...





       

    Get Off My Leg!

    I was just checking the radar map of the local Oregon weather, and with the map in motion and refreshing every few seconds, it looked just like some kind of greenish space dog humping...well, humping my town.

    And that's about how we feel, too...dry-humped and left with a stain on our leg. It's about 9 degrees with the wind chill, icing lines may test my battery backups at any minute.

    If the power goes off, I have four charged up UPS's for my various computers and electronics. I'll unhook them all and use them to keep the TV going until 11pm, cuz tonight is TV night at the Bane Compound.

    'Navy NCIS', '24', and the new and delicious new 'Line of Fire'.

    Screw all you retards who killed your televisions...Plato, Shakespeare, and Dickens would all be writing for TV now if they could. If you knew how many so-called 'serious' writers have submitted scripts for movies and television under pen names, you would just shit, so fuck off, pompous prigs.





       

    Stop Me If You've Heard These...


    It is time to take a serious look at our involvement there.


    Every day there are news reports about more deaths. Every night on the TV are photos of death and destruction.
    Why are we still there?

    The land is too large to secure all of it. The bad people
    causing this damage can roam anywhere, and we can't possibly
    police the whole place. Why are we still there?

    We occupied this land, which we had to take by force, but it
    causes us nothing but trouble. Why are we still there?


    Their government is unstable, and in the process of changing.
    Why are we still there?

    Refugees are fleeing by the thousands, driven from their
    homes. Why are we still there?

    It will cost billions to rebuild, which we can't afford.

    Why are we still there?


    There are more than 1000 religious sects.

    We can't even secure the borders. Why are we still there?

    And to repeat. Every day we hear of more Americans killed
    in this dangerous land.


    It is clear! We must abandon California




    Two intrepid explorers met in the heart of the Brazilian jungle.

    "I'm here," declared one, "to commune with nature in the raw, to contemplate the eternal verities and to widen my horizons. And you, sir?"

    "I," sighed the second explorer, "came because my young daughter has begun violin lessons."




    The Democrats are complaining on how long the war is taking but consider this:

    It took less time to take Iraq than it took Janet Reno to take the Branch Davidian compound. That was a 51-day operation.

    It took less time to find Saddam's sons in Iraq than it took Hillary Clinton to find the Rose Law Firm billing records.

    It took less time for the 3rd Infantry Division and the Marines to destroy the Medina Republican Guard than it took Teddy Kennedy to call the police after his Oldsmobile sunk at Chappaquiddick.

    It took less time to take Iraq than it took to count the votes in Florida!!!!!!

    Damn our military is GREAT!





       

    But Wait! There's More!

    INTP - "Architect". Greatest precision in thought and language. Can readily discern contradictions and inconsistencies. The world exists primarily to be understood. 3.3% of total population.
    Take Free Myers-Briggs Personality Test


    I like this one better. BTW, don't take one of these unless you are willing to be brutally honest with yourself. Who gives a fuck what anybody else thinks, eh?





       

    Still More Navel Gazing...

    Personality Disorder Test Results
    Paranoid |||||||||||| 46%
    Schizoid |||||||||||||||| 66%
    Schizotypal |||||||||||| 50%
    Antisocial |||||||||||||||| 66%
    Borderline |||||||||| 34%
    Histrionic |||||||||||||| 58%
    Narcissistic |||||||||||| 42%
    Avoidant |||||| 30%
    Dependent |||||||||| 38%
    Obsessive-Compulsive |||||||||||||||| 66%
    Take Free Personality Disorder Test


    Hey! What are they trying to say? They must be nuts.





       

    Some More Navel Gazing...

    Conscious self
    Overall self
    Take Free Enneagram Personality Test


    Enneagram Test Results
    Type 1 Perfectionism |||||||||| 39%
    Type 2 Helpfulness |||||||||| 38%
    Type 3 Ambition |||||||||||| 46%
    Type 4 Sensitivity |||||||||||||||| 68%
    Type 5 Detachment |||||||||||||||||||| 82%
    Type 6 Anxiety |||||||||||||||| 70%
    Type 7 Adventurousness |||||||||||||| 52%
    Type 8 Aggressiveness |||||||||||||||||| 74%
    Type 9 Calmness |||||||||||| 46%
    Your Conscious-Surface type is 5w6
    Your Unconscious-Overall type is 6w5
    Take Free Enneagram Personality Test


    Hey! I don't think I'm indecisive! Well, not very, anyway...or maybe just a little.







       



    Dang...and I hate that movie, too.





       

    Some Thoughts From Einstein...

    “I want to know God’s thoughts; the rest are details.”

    “The hardest thing in the world to understand is the income tax.”

    “I am convinced that He (God) does not play dice.”

    “God is subtle but he is not malicious.”

    “Science without religion is lame. Religion without science is blind.”

    “Everything should be made as simple as possible, but not simpler.”

    “Science is a wonderful thing if one does not have to earn one’s living at it.”

    “The only thing that interferes with my learning is my education.”

    “Education is what remains after one has forgotten everything he learned in school.”

    “Do not worry about your difficulties in Mathematics. I can assure you mine are still greater.”

    “Equations are more important to me, because politics is for the present, but an equation is something for eternity.”

    “Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I’m not sure about the the universe.”

    “No, this trick won’t work…How on earth are you ever going to explain in terms of chemistry and physics so important a biological phenomenon as first love?”

    “Great spirits have always found violent opposition from mediocrities. The latter cannot understand it when a man does not thoughtlessly submit to hereditary prejudices but honestly and courageously uses his intelligence.”

    “Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts.” (Sign hanging in Einstein’s office at Princeton)





       

    Fuck 'Princess' Diana...

    Feh, not with your dick, were she still alive. Let me make this perfectly clear: I rejoice over the death of that limey slut every time the news slaps her smirking, raghead-sucking face on my television. I celebrated actively on the day she died... and I hope her faggot ex-husband wraps himself around a tree and dies, too, and that her bastard sons are sterile. So there.

    Fuck that bitch. Her anti-landmine crusade was just one of many many reasons I am ecstatic that she has become a worm farm. Getting scrunched to death with a raghead? Priceless...

    I haven't been so happy over a death of a public figure since Lennon was shot. And I'm glad Elvis died, too.

    You people and your icons...the whole fucking British monarchy (except for Crazy Prince Phillip) needs to be kneeling on a guillotine platform. Crazy Prince Phillip cracks me up, so he can live.

    Update:
    When I say her "faggot ex-husband", I am referring of course to Prance Charles, her loony, pot-eared ex-husband, who I wish was dead, too...and not just because he is a butler-raping homo.

    I hope this helps the less well educated who emailed me saying "Huh?"






       

    Sad But True...

    And I think this speaks for itself...

    I've sure gotten old........
    I've had 2 By-pass surgeries.
    A hip replacement, new knees.
    Fought highblood & diabetes.
    Am half blind, can't hear anything quieter than a jet engine, take 40 different medications that make me dizzy, winded, and subject to blackouts.
    Have bouts with dementia.
    Have poor circulation, hardly feel my hands and feet anymore.
    Can't remember if I'm 85 or 92.
    Have lost all my friends.

    But.....Thank heaven I still have my...
    DRIVER'S LICENSE!






       

    Yer Pissin Me Off!

    I was just reading a long set of comments on the topic of "What is your favorite military Sci-Fi novel"...

    Dammit! Why did it take 8 comments before Joe Haldeman's 'Forever War' was even mentioned? And several of those shitheads dissed the movie 'Starship Troopers', even as they praised the book. If you didn't LOVE the movie, then get off my blog. I mean it, scat!

    And then those sorry saps all started nominating Tom Clancy's books...puh-fucking-leeeeze. Don't even get me started on that closet queen.

    I am so cross, I could just spit!





       

    This Cheers Me Up!

    And if something cheers Bane up, this can't bode well for the rest of you now, can it?

    Read it all...





        Monday, January 05, 2004

    Blast From The Past...

    I write a lot of stuff. It gives me much fun and enjoyment when I see that other bloggers are pawing through my stuff to find things they can and will use against me. I love running across little gems that I wrote months...years ago, that some dipstick is trying to throw back in my face.

    Hey! I mean what I say! Get used to it!

    I rarely troll, and when I do, I give hints that anyone with an IQ over 150 can get...oh, okay, 135, but that's as low as I'll go, dammit.

    It seems that when you tell the truth, and speak your heart, it is so shocking and unexpected that folks just automatically assume you are a troll.

    What sheltered lives some of you have led.





       

    Instant Karma's Gonna Get You...

    ...and quick, too. I no sooner mention kicking a puppy, and I get a call that my Maiden Sister's treasured cat just died. Wow.
    I tried to tell her that even dead pussy is good pussy, but she was inconsolable. I told her "Hey, you fall off the pussy, you gotta get right back on the pussy!" I was abjuring her to go get a replacement, stand-in stunt pussy...she said she was gonna go to the shelter.
    I said "Fuck that! They want $60 for some junk cat that you don't even know where it's been! Those animals at the shelter are suitable only for experimentation!"

    I think she sensed my concern and my caring.

    Hey! Speaking of 'Instant Karma', it reminds me again how glad I am that John Lennon is dead. Yoko needs to go to that Big Kabuki-Looking Douchebag In The Sky With Diamonds, too.
    As a matter of fact, Ringo is the only one out of the batch that should remain alive. I like Ringo, but Sir Paul needs a bullet.

    Sir Elton. Sir Mick. Does anyone need to buy a clue to see how far the Mighty British Empire has fallen? It's like finding out your Dad is a gay homosexual drag queen...we came from that? Ugh.

    S'cuse me, I gotta go take a shiite...the contractions are just seconds apart, and I'm dilating.

    Adopt this.





       

    Just For You Know...

    I have been in a pissy mood all day. Snow does that to me. So do idiots, and I've been dealing with my share...and some of your share...and some from that guy over there..."Hey, dude, I don't even know you! Take your idiots back!"

    I think I need to go kick a puppy or something.





        Sunday, January 04, 2004

    Mars Lander Update:

    YAWN!!!...BIG STRETCH...YAWN!!!

    Why can't those geniuses at NASA (strong sarcasm) come up with a lander that extrudes balloon assisted cameras? They could stay on a line for awhile, transmitting down through a wire to the lander, and hovering dozens of feet above the martian landscape. Then you could send a signal that releases the baloon to free travel, using the now dangling line as a transmitter antennae.

    They could shape the balloon like a football, add fins, and it could face into the wind, carrying four or more small cameras sending sense-u-round back to the folks at home...uh, yes, that would be the folks paying for this little circle jerk.

    Could it be that they don't want the public to see the JPL buildings on the other side of the rise? Heh.

    So many probes have failed upon entering Mars's atmosphere, it's easy to believe in Martian rednecks, out walking with their shotguns..."Look, Jethro, there's another of them there skeets! Shoot it!"

    I might care more if there were live nude Martian babes shooting beaver shots at the cameras to get on MTV or 'Martian Babes Gone Wild 2!', but I can look out my back window and see all the dirt I want, a lot cheaper.

    Nope, I love the Space Program and whatnot, but right now, I think that money could be better spent killing furriners right here on our own planet...

    Can I get an amen?

    Yet Another Update:

    Why couldn't you model the balloon somewhere between the shape of a football and a squid, where it acts like a kind of air-ram, riding the winds and mapping terrain as it goes? I'm a freakin genius.






        Saturday, January 03, 2004

    My first impressions of the Mars Lander photos...

    YAWN!!!





       

    Support The United Negroe College Fund...

    Because a negroe is a terrible thing to waste...

    I just saw this fucking insulting ad on CNN...it showed a big young black man, and literally threatened that if you didn't 'give' (read, 'give in to extortion'), this big, mean looking buck is coming afta yo lily white ass, knowutumsayin?

    Muthafukka?

    Yeah, chump...Support The United Negroe College Fund...or else.





       

    Sad, But True...

    Tonight, one of my sons sent me this rather long article from 1994. He was just ten years old when this was written, and these words waited for him to grow up so they could slap him in the face.

    Read these excerpts...read the whole thing...read it and weep, cuz it ain't gettin any better.

    "...The discrediting allegation that white males don't get it is routinely hurled at them by a host of accusers and political correctness enforcers: feminists, homosexuals, multiculturalists, Afrocentrists, affirmative-action administrators, rap artists, literary modernists, Hispanic bilingualists, and American Indians, to name a few. As Gates notes, "All of them are saying the same thing: You've been a bad boy."

    ...What does it mean to say that senators and other white males don't get it? First, it means they are incapable of identifying with nonwhites and females. This charge is made when white males are accused of not conforming to the empathy or sensitivity expectation of the political correctness movement. Thus, anything they say or do vis-a-vis members of these groups is interpreted and judged in terms of this alleged deficiency...

    Victimist rhetoric defines him as the embodiment of all that politically correct egalitarians despise...

    As sociologist Frederick Lynch notes in his study of the impact of affirmative action on white males, "Verbal 'male-bashing' and hostility toward white males [has] become acceptable, even seen as 'overdue,' in some media and academic circles."

    The reason the white male stigma amounts to a stacked deck is that although white males are defined as morally wanting by virtue of their race and gender, unlike other stigmatized groups they are expected to conform to the taboo against claiming victim status for themselves. To conform to this expectation is to be put in the disadvantageous position of self-incrimination. Since white males are viewed as guilty until proven innocent, a politically correct white male--the one who "gets it"--is not one who is proven innocent but one who accepts the indictment. One receives no moral points for being innocent..."


    And you thought The Simpson's and South Park were just cartoons...





       

    I drove downtown today to go mail a package during a lull in the icy rain. The town was still dripping like a freshly washed corpse, bruised green splotches spread amongst the varicosed, quivering fingers of comatose trees.

    There were white patches, still, here and there, like God had gone on a bender and TP'd the town. The sun stood off to the side, a dim, weak thing, clamoring for attention...shouldered aside by grim-faced clouds, heading east with no mercy in their cold, wet hearts.





       

    Combat Blogging...

    I get emails. I get invitations to the blogs of others, and I always go, at least once...I am not an ill-mannered turd.

    And then I get the 'Call To Arms' emails, like this morning, inviting me to go somewhere and help someone kick someone else's ass who desperately needs it.

    Trouble is, I don't go to any of those liberal, left-wing cess-pits unless I am led there by a link, and then I am out of there quick as a scalded cat, hoping I didn't get any of their idiot juice on me.

    Those kind of people that run those sites are malignantly, defiantly dumb...dumb at the top of their voices dumb. Not being able to kill them, let alone getting banned because you do not agree with their bilge, is not worth the stress of spending one extra second in Noam Chomsky's bunghole. To me, anyway.

    If ya'll have the stomach for it, and are wearing proper protection, go for it. It's a free internet, for a few more weeks, anyway.

    Nope, I'll leave the lying and the disinformation to those who are good at it, and you liberal Demoncrats know who you are. They are like cryptonite to a reasoning human being.





       

    I hope this guy gets his head crushed in by some wino or drug addict...and soon.

    Read the whole article and weep for America that this ripoff of our tax dollars can occur.




       

    From The "No Shit, Sherlock" Files...

    141 people killed when Egyptian plane crashes soon after takeoff from Sharm
    Jet carrying 12 Egyptians, 129 French tourists was en route to Cairo when crashed into Red Sea; source: plane 'probably had accident.'


    Ya think?






        Thursday, January 01, 2004

    I Resolve To:

    - Leave the toilet seat up whenever I piss. It's a Man's World, baby...get used to it.

    - Fart in elevators more often...give folks something REAL to bitch about.

    - Quit keeping the Negroe down....naahh, just kidding. Go pick me some damn cotton, Oprah!

    [Note: Oprah is a very rich negroe. I would pick her cotton for a reasonable fee. Heck, I'd squeegee the dingleberries out of her fat black butt-crack for a reasonable fee. I'd eat em for...well, a fuckload of money, I'll tell ya]

    - Hug more mexicans around the neck...real tight. "Go sleep with Heysoos, little illegal alien..."

    - Lift more weight. Screw those pussy 16 ouncers...I'm gonna start curling the 24's! Chicks dig da buff dudes.





       

    Ditto




       

    New Years Day placeholder