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Wednesday, November 30, 2005
SOMEWHERE MICHAEL VARTAN IS SAYING: NYAH NYAH NYAH NYAH
Alias canceled.
via Esther who rightly reminds us all why we love the Gilmore Girls.
Season Five's on DVD in December, so get thee to Netflix!
As the rest of us hope the best episodes aren't behind us.
Alias canceled.
via Esther who rightly reminds us all why we love the Gilmore Girls.
Season Five's on DVD in December, so get thee to Netflix!
As the rest of us hope the best episodes aren't behind us.
WOMAN GETS FIRST FACIAL TRANSPLANT
Umm...sew's your face?
And don't think I didn't notice that it was a cute, cuddly dog attack which necessitated the procedure.
Cause I did.
Umm...sew's your face?
And don't think I didn't notice that it was a cute, cuddly dog attack which necessitated the procedure.
Cause I did.
CAUSE WE'RE TOO OBESE?
"America will not run in the face of car bombers and assassins so long as I am your commander-in-chief."
How rude.
"America will not run in the face of car bombers and assassins so long as I am your commander-in-chief."
How rude.
DEAR NEW YORK DEMOCRATS,
*THIS* is the party that has kicked our ass in every major election in the state, except the U.S. Senate races, for the last twelve years?
The state's top GOP legislator is urging fellow Republican Jeanine Pirro to pull out of the U.S. Senate race against Hillary Clinton.
State Senate Majority Leader Joe Bruno says he's told Pirro, the Westchester County District Attorney and Senate hopeful, she has a better shot at winning the state's attorney general slot.
That seat will soon be vacated by Democrat Eliot Spitzer, who plans to run for governor in 2006.
"While she may make a great U.S. senator, she would be a greater public service, she'd be a greater service to the state ticket to be on as Attorney General," said Bruno.
Pirro has said in a statement that while she appreciates Bruno's confidence in her abilities, she is still a candidate for U.S. Senate.
Bruno contends Pirro's odds are not good against incumbent Clinton. Clinton has maintained a comfortable lead, according to independent polls.
Insert head hung in shame.
*THIS* is the party that has kicked our ass in every major election in the state, except the U.S. Senate races, for the last twelve years?
The state's top GOP legislator is urging fellow Republican Jeanine Pirro to pull out of the U.S. Senate race against Hillary Clinton.
State Senate Majority Leader Joe Bruno says he's told Pirro, the Westchester County District Attorney and Senate hopeful, she has a better shot at winning the state's attorney general slot.
That seat will soon be vacated by Democrat Eliot Spitzer, who plans to run for governor in 2006.
"While she may make a great U.S. senator, she would be a greater public service, she'd be a greater service to the state ticket to be on as Attorney General," said Bruno.
Pirro has said in a statement that while she appreciates Bruno's confidence in her abilities, she is still a candidate for U.S. Senate.
Bruno contends Pirro's odds are not good against incumbent Clinton. Clinton has maintained a comfortable lead, according to independent polls.
Insert head hung in shame.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
WELL, THAT JUST SOUNDS LIKE A WINNING FORMULA
E! picks up revamped 'Simple Life'
The fourth season will have Hilton and Richie taking turns playing a "wife" and running households, with the family involved each week deciding which of the two did a better job.
If Hilton and Richie are still not talking, the format allows for filming to take place with each woman not coming into contact with the other, said Chris Alexander, spokesman for Twentieth Century Fox Television.
E! picks up revamped 'Simple Life'
The fourth season will have Hilton and Richie taking turns playing a "wife" and running households, with the family involved each week deciding which of the two did a better job.
If Hilton and Richie are still not talking, the format allows for filming to take place with each woman not coming into contact with the other, said Chris Alexander, spokesman for Twentieth Century Fox Television.
FUNNY. WHERE I'M FROM THAT'S CALLED 'CITIZEN'
"Very often you have people coming from the second generation of immigration, they don't know their country of origin," he said.
"They don't have the same link with France as their parents who chose to come and work here. So, as Jacques Chirac, the President of the Republic said, there was some kind of a lack of identity."
So...France's PM thinks it sucks so bad to be French that even people born in France are looking for some alternate identity?
Craaazy.
"Very often you have people coming from the second generation of immigration, they don't know their country of origin," he said.
"They don't have the same link with France as their parents who chose to come and work here. So, as Jacques Chirac, the President of the Republic said, there was some kind of a lack of identity."
So...France's PM thinks it sucks so bad to be French that even people born in France are looking for some alternate identity?
Craaazy.
Monday, November 28, 2005
THE FINAL WORD ON THANKSGIVING
I don't care what sort of clever basting, marinading, cooking tricks, you use, there's only one reason to eat white meat: there's no dark meat left.
He may be stupid, but the man knows meat.
I don't care what sort of clever basting, marinading, cooking tricks, you use, there's only one reason to eat white meat: there's no dark meat left.
He may be stupid, but the man knows meat.
50 CENT WOULD HAVE VOTED FOR BUSH
If the rapper's felony conviction didn't prevent him from voting, 50 said he would have voted for Bush.
To think, when I woke up this morning I was against disenfranchisement of felons.
The more you know, indeed.
If the rapper's felony conviction didn't prevent him from voting, 50 said he would have voted for Bush.
To think, when I woke up this morning I was against disenfranchisement of felons.
The more you know, indeed.
THE ECB SEES YOUR THROAT SLASHING...
And raises one cop killing.
Oh, middle America, how you look better and better with each passing year.
Not good, mind you, just better.
;-)
And raises one cop killing.
Oh, middle America, how you look better and better with each passing year.
Not good, mind you, just better.
;-)
Sunday, November 27, 2005
GET ME BACK TO EAST COCO BEACH...
Well, ok...not there...somewhere else...Brooklyn Heights? Yeah...Brooklyn Heights...but then not so much with the 'back.'
There's been a murder on the Upper East Side.
And no, it wasn't Karol, so no need to send the police to ask about my whereabouts this evening.
(That means you!)
But this part of Fish's story is just classic New York:
With the exception of food delivery guys, I don’t get visitors at this time of night. So when there was a knock at the door, I was surprised – surprised enough to go to the door and swing back the peephole cover. The man in a suit on the other side of the door heard the floorboards squeak.
“Police!”
I stood there in my pajamas mute and stupid with disbelief as he told me that my neighbor had been killed. Did I know her?
“I’m sorry – I don’t know many of my neighbors by name.”
But when he told me the apartment number, it was another story. My mouth went dry. She and I had been in the elevator together yesterday afternoon. The detective asked if I’d heard anything strange tonight.
“Yes. I did. Yelling and a dog going crazy. About an hour ago. I only know because I was making dinner and the stove is right by the window.”
Ah, the telltale peephole cover swing complete with squeaking floorboards...ghetto kids learn early how to tiptoe and always leave the peephole cover just ever so slightly askew, so you can always see out without the other person knowing you're anywhere near the door.
It's standard survival skills if you wanna avoid cops, Jehovah Witness' and the annoying extermination dude.
Also, the dog going crazy -- so OJ. Good thing she posted the story, she's gonna need to remember the details for her trial testimony.
Well, ok...not there...somewhere else...Brooklyn Heights? Yeah...Brooklyn Heights...but then not so much with the 'back.'
There's been a murder on the Upper East Side.
And no, it wasn't Karol, so no need to send the police to ask about my whereabouts this evening.
(That means you!)
But this part of Fish's story is just classic New York:
With the exception of food delivery guys, I don’t get visitors at this time of night. So when there was a knock at the door, I was surprised – surprised enough to go to the door and swing back the peephole cover. The man in a suit on the other side of the door heard the floorboards squeak.
“Police!”
I stood there in my pajamas mute and stupid with disbelief as he told me that my neighbor had been killed. Did I know her?
“I’m sorry – I don’t know many of my neighbors by name.”
But when he told me the apartment number, it was another story. My mouth went dry. She and I had been in the elevator together yesterday afternoon. The detective asked if I’d heard anything strange tonight.
“Yes. I did. Yelling and a dog going crazy. About an hour ago. I only know because I was making dinner and the stove is right by the window.”
Ah, the telltale peephole cover swing complete with squeaking floorboards...ghetto kids learn early how to tiptoe and always leave the peephole cover just ever so slightly askew, so you can always see out without the other person knowing you're anywhere near the door.
It's standard survival skills if you wanna avoid cops, Jehovah Witness' and the annoying extermination dude.
Also, the dog going crazy -- so OJ. Good thing she posted the story, she's gonna need to remember the details for her trial testimony.
DESPERATE BLOGGING
OOOHH. How good was tonight's episode?
Dear, funny looking top hat guy who write DH, if you never bring up Alfre's character or the rando basement fugitive again for the rest of the Season, we won't mention it either.
Let's go all Gabrielle/South Side nun, Lynette/boss and Susan/leave me alone I'm not your dad man and Bree's...umm...it's been a while since Crim Law, is that murder?
OOOHH. How good was tonight's episode?
Dear, funny looking top hat guy who write DH, if you never bring up Alfre's character or the rando basement fugitive again for the rest of the Season, we won't mention it either.
Let's go all Gabrielle/South Side nun, Lynette/boss and Susan/leave me alone I'm not your dad man and Bree's...umm...it's been a while since Crim Law, is that murder?
MY VERY FIRST HAND IN THE TOURNEY
It's sooo Oliver Hudson of me.
If I've said it once, I've said it a hundred times, you get pocket aces; you fold pocket aces.
NOT SO RANDOM THOUGHT
What I wouldn't give to be able to say 'blah blah blah' the next time I'm getting an assignment, without getting so fired.
-Dawn, who seriously never blogs so much as when she's got a memo due, Summers
What I wouldn't give to be able to say 'blah blah blah' the next time I'm getting an assignment, without getting so fired.
-Dawn, who seriously never blogs so much as when she's got a memo due, Summers
CONVERSATION OF THE YESTERDAY
Me: Was that a man or a woman?
Mom: Man.
Cousin: Woman.
Mom & Cousin simultaneously: You're crazy.
Cousin: It was a woman who wants to be a man.
Mom: Yeah...no...it was a man trying to be a woman.
Me: I think I saw boobs.
This goes on for another half hour. But thems the highlights.
DOGS KILL ELDERLY WOMAN
Oh yeah, they're sooo cute and cuddly...except when they're eating your face.
Oh yeah, they're sooo cute and cuddly...except when they're eating your face.
NEXT UP: Titanic Captain on how not to hit the iceberg
Brown starts emergency preparedness business.
Seriously, can any company that hires him or his company to prepare them for an emergency be sued for breach of fiduciary duties on some kind of res ipsa loquitur theory?
Brown starts emergency preparedness business.
Seriously, can any company that hires him or his company to prepare them for an emergency be sued for breach of fiduciary duties on some kind of res ipsa loquitur theory?
Saturday, November 26, 2005
END OF THE TOUR
Simpson, Lachey 'part ways.'
"After three years of marriage, and careful thought and consideration, we have decided to part ways," they said in a joint statement released by their publicists. "This is the mutual decision of two people with an enormous amount of respect and admiration for each other."
Of course, my very, very, very favoritest part of the story:
The couple's reality show, "Newlyweds: Nick & Jessica," which chronicled their daily lives in a new California home, turned them into stars. The show, which ran for three seasons, made Simpson infamous for her dippy-blonde moments, including the time she confused the tuna she was eating for chicken, or when she eschewed Buffalo wings because "I don't eat buffalo."
Three seasons, three years of marriage.
Duuuh...if the show's over what's the point of staying married.
Simpson, Lachey 'part ways.'
"After three years of marriage, and careful thought and consideration, we have decided to part ways," they said in a joint statement released by their publicists. "This is the mutual decision of two people with an enormous amount of respect and admiration for each other."
Of course, my very, very, very favoritest part of the story:
The couple's reality show, "Newlyweds: Nick & Jessica," which chronicled their daily lives in a new California home, turned them into stars. The show, which ran for three seasons, made Simpson infamous for her dippy-blonde moments, including the time she confused the tuna she was eating for chicken, or when she eschewed Buffalo wings because "I don't eat buffalo."
Three seasons, three years of marriage.
Duuuh...if the show's over what's the point of staying married.
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
'LIAR' IS SUCH A HARSH WORD
Just so you know, when you asked if I planned to be 'here' for Thanksgiving, I understood that to mean, specifically, in that conference room. And as I have no plans to be in that conference room on Thanksgiving...
Just so you know, when you asked if I planned to be 'here' for Thanksgiving, I understood that to mean, specifically, in that conference room. And as I have no plans to be in that conference room on Thanksgiving...
SNIFF...SNIFF...SMELLS LIKE...
Washington Post reporter Bob Woodward said Monday he kept his conversation with a Bush administration official about the identity of a CIA operative secret for two years because "I was trying to avoid being subpoenaed."
Obstruction of Justice.
Washington Post reporter Bob Woodward said Monday he kept his conversation with a Bush administration official about the identity of a CIA operative secret for two years because "I was trying to avoid being subpoenaed."
Obstruction of Justice.
Monday, November 21, 2005
BUSH EXCITEDLY EXCLAIMS: "I DIDN'T KNOW YOU COULD DO THAT!"
Thai Prime Minister declines to answer anymore questions from the press until his astrological stars align.
"Right now Mercury ... is in a corner perfectly aligned with my star. Mercury is no good, so if it's not good, I am going to request not to speak. I'll just wait until next year to talk," Thaksin told reporters Sunday after returning to Bangkok from a trip to South Korea and China.
He added that Mercury moves slowly and will not steer clear of his star until next year.
VERONICA MARS
Saw the first of the Season 1 DVDs last night.
It's ok...but I cannot support any show that features a character with a pet.* Sets a bad example for the kids while lulling the species into a false sense of security.
People can do whatever they want in their own homes, but I don't want to see it on my televisions.
*Notable exceptions are, of course, Family Guy, The Simpsons and King of the Hill -- but the threat from animated animals are not as great as the real life ones; it's still present, but less.
Also, the recent Paul Anka addition to Gilmore Girls will pose some serious soul searching if he doesn't die off soon.
Saw the first of the Season 1 DVDs last night.
It's ok...but I cannot support any show that features a character with a pet.* Sets a bad example for the kids while lulling the species into a false sense of security.
People can do whatever they want in their own homes, but I don't want to see it on my televisions.
*Notable exceptions are, of course, Family Guy, The Simpsons and King of the Hill -- but the threat from animated animals are not as great as the real life ones; it's still present, but less.
Also, the recent Paul Anka addition to Gilmore Girls will pose some serious soul searching if he doesn't die off soon.
FYI ON AT&T WIRELESS OR CINGULAR...WHATEVER
They've got a $25 credit that the agent assisting you can give, just to get you to shut the hell up.
They've got a $25 credit that the agent assisting you can give, just to get you to shut the hell up.
Sunday, November 20, 2005
QUESTIONS YOU ASK YOURSELF AT 1:41 AM
Is there anything worse than pumping your body full caffeine at 11:49 p.m. in preparation for an all-nighter, only to get the call to go home 30 minutes later cause TPTB have changed their minds about the whole thing?
My driver tonight was twelve-years-old. Who knew they gave kids licenses?
Why the hell has Lite FM started their all Christmas music all the time a week earlier this year?
How much of a moron does the security lady think I am for locking myself out of my office for the second time in as many weeks?
Do buses leave for AC at two in the morning?
Why would Sir Mix A lot think it was necessary to make sure we knew he wasn't lying?
Is there anything worse than pumping your body full caffeine at 11:49 p.m. in preparation for an all-nighter, only to get the call to go home 30 minutes later cause TPTB have changed their minds about the whole thing?
My driver tonight was twelve-years-old. Who knew they gave kids licenses?
Why the hell has Lite FM started their all Christmas music all the time a week earlier this year?
How much of a moron does the security lady think I am for locking myself out of my office for the second time in as many weeks?
Do buses leave for AC at two in the morning?
Why would Sir Mix A lot think it was necessary to make sure we knew he wasn't lying?
OH MY GOSH!
OJ thought my note from Robert Blake was real!
"If Robert Blake has friends and family around him, he'll do fine. I would give him the same advice I gave Michael (Jackson). You've got your kid. Go and raise your kid."
He added, "To me, the thing that's most disturbing is to watch these lawyers grand standing. It's all for TV and for the book deals. I predict they will make a book deal. They did it in my case."
Wait...he's giving Michael Jackson advice?!?!
OJ thought my note from Robert Blake was real!
"If Robert Blake has friends and family around him, he'll do fine. I would give him the same advice I gave Michael (Jackson). You've got your kid. Go and raise your kid."
He added, "To me, the thing that's most disturbing is to watch these lawyers grand standing. It's all for TV and for the book deals. I predict they will make a book deal. They did it in my case."
Also, any high school A.P. history students wanna field this one: "I still don't get how anyone can be found not guilty of a murder and then be found responsible for it in any way shape or form," Simpson said in a phone interview from his Florida home. "... If you're found not guilty, how can you be found responsible? I'd love to hear how that's not double jeopardy."
Wait...he's giving Michael Jackson advice?!?!
Saturday, November 19, 2005
DEDICATED TO OTHERS WORKING TODAY
John McCain's essay on terrorism and torture in Newsweek:
"I don't mourn the loss of any terrorist's life. Nor do I care if in the course of serving their ignoble cause they suffer great harm. They have pledged their lives to the intentional destruction of innocent lives, and they have earned their terrible punishment in this life and the next.
What I do mourn is what we lose when by official policy or official neglect we allow, confuse or encourage our soldiers to forget that best sense of ourselves, that which is our greatest strength-that we are different and better than our enemies, that we fight for an idea, not a tribe, not a land, not a king, not a twisted interpretation of an ancient religion, but for an idea that all men are created equal and endowed by their Creator with inalienable rights."
H/T pearatty
John McCain's essay on terrorism and torture in Newsweek:
"I don't mourn the loss of any terrorist's life. Nor do I care if in the course of serving their ignoble cause they suffer great harm. They have pledged their lives to the intentional destruction of innocent lives, and they have earned their terrible punishment in this life and the next.
What I do mourn is what we lose when by official policy or official neglect we allow, confuse or encourage our soldiers to forget that best sense of ourselves, that which is our greatest strength-that we are different and better than our enemies, that we fight for an idea, not a tribe, not a land, not a king, not a twisted interpretation of an ancient religion, but for an idea that all men are created equal and endowed by their Creator with inalienable rights."
H/T pearatty
Friday, November 18, 2005
RAISE YOUR HAND IF YOU DON'T LIVE IN NEW JERSEY
And you're glad.
Mr. Codey, who is also the president of the State Senate, did not mince words about how "leaving will not be easy." But he joked that what made the transition easier for him was the "long list of problems" he was leaving behind for Mr. Corzine.
"Let me condense your transition report for you," he said, eliciting chuckles from the crowd. "We're pretty much broke. We have more debt than we can afford. Next year's budget deficit is at least $5 billion. School construction and transportation funding have virtually dried up. And we have a $1 billion pension payment due next year."
And you're glad.
Mr. Codey, who is also the president of the State Senate, did not mince words about how "leaving will not be easy." But he joked that what made the transition easier for him was the "long list of problems" he was leaving behind for Mr. Corzine.
"Let me condense your transition report for you," he said, eliciting chuckles from the crowd. "We're pretty much broke. We have more debt than we can afford. Next year's budget deficit is at least $5 billion. School construction and transportation funding have virtually dried up. And we have a $1 billion pension payment due next year."
YOU SAID IT, BONO
You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it
Don't say that later will be better
Now you're stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it
You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it
Don't say that later will be better
Now you're stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it
IT'S HERE! IT'S HERE! IT'S HERE!
Oh crap, I promised to go to my friend'sconcert gig tonight.
Hmm...I feel a fever coming on...Buffy fever!
Oh crap, I promised to go to my friend's
Hmm...I feel a fever coming on...Buffy fever!
Thursday, November 17, 2005
WELL, THEY BETTER ELECTRIFY IT TOO
In Congress, a powerful Republican lawmaker this week proposed building such a fence across the entire border and two dozen other lawmakers signed on. And via the Internet, a group called weneedafence.com has raised enough money to air TV ads warning that the border is open to terrorists.
Even at the Homeland Security Department, which opposes building a border-long fence, Secretary Michael Chertoff this fall waived environmental laws so that construction can continue on a 14-mile section of fence near San Diego that has helped border agents stem the flow of illegal migrants and drug runners.
“You have to be able to enforce your borders,” says California Rep. Duncan Hunter, the Republican chairman of the House Armed Services Committee. He's proposing a fence from San Diego to Brownsville, Texas. “It's no longer just an immigration issue. It's now a national security issue.”
Good gravy.
In Congress, a powerful Republican lawmaker this week proposed building such a fence across the entire border and two dozen other lawmakers signed on. And via the Internet, a group called weneedafence.com has raised enough money to air TV ads warning that the border is open to terrorists.
Even at the Homeland Security Department, which opposes building a border-long fence, Secretary Michael Chertoff this fall waived environmental laws so that construction can continue on a 14-mile section of fence near San Diego that has helped border agents stem the flow of illegal migrants and drug runners.
“You have to be able to enforce your borders,” says California Rep. Duncan Hunter, the Republican chairman of the House Armed Services Committee. He's proposing a fence from San Diego to Brownsville, Texas. “It's no longer just an immigration issue. It's now a national security issue.”
Good gravy.
BOO FREAKING HOO
Mom who made deliquent teen hold a cardboard sign at an intersection accused of 'psychological' abuse.
Donald Wertlieb, a professor of child development at the Eliot-Pearson Department of Child Development at Tufts University, warned that such punishment could do extreme emotional damage. He said rewarding positive behavior is more effective.
"The trick is to catch them being good," he said. "It sounds like this mother has not had a chance to catch her child being good or is so upset over seeing her be bad, that's where the focus is."
Cry me river.
When she's beating the kid in the shower with an electrical cord, we'll talk.
Mom who made deliquent teen hold a cardboard sign at an intersection accused of 'psychological' abuse.
Donald Wertlieb, a professor of child development at the Eliot-Pearson Department of Child Development at Tufts University, warned that such punishment could do extreme emotional damage. He said rewarding positive behavior is more effective.
"The trick is to catch them being good," he said. "It sounds like this mother has not had a chance to catch her child being good or is so upset over seeing her be bad, that's where the focus is."
Cry me river.
When she's beating the kid in the shower with an electrical cord, we'll talk.
AND WE'D BE ALL DONE FORGETTING BY NOW IF YOU'D STOP WHINING
Governor: Katrina victims 'nearly forgotten'
Governor: Katrina victims 'nearly forgotten'
AS DAWN GOES, SO GOES AMERICA
Forty-two percent of Americans think that the United States should "mind its own business internationally and let other countries get along the best they can on their own," according to the survey, which was conducted by the Pew Research Center in association with the Council on Foreign Relations.
Now, that's leadership.
Forty-two percent of Americans think that the United States should "mind its own business internationally and let other countries get along the best they can on their own," according to the survey, which was conducted by the Pew Research Center in association with the Council on Foreign Relations.
Now, that's leadership.
SNAPS WHEATON ACTIVELY SEEKING AN ASS KICKING
And ladies, before you get your knickers in a wad, cram it, okay? When women bloggers stop relying on "Men are Stupid" posts for 60% of their material, you can lecture the boys about playing nice.
Of course, I'm just offended because my "Men are Stupid" posts account for only 52% of my material -- and those are mostly directed at George W. Bush. The Clareified staff will have to supplement with a slew of Ken Wheaton is Stupid posts to catch up.
And ladies, before you get your knickers in a wad, cram it, okay? When women bloggers stop relying on "Men are Stupid" posts for 60% of their material, you can lecture the boys about playing nice.
Of course, I'm just offended because my "Men are Stupid" posts account for only 52% of my material -- and those are mostly directed at George W. Bush. The Clareified staff will have to supplement with a slew of Ken Wheaton is Stupid posts to catch up.
LOST BLOGGING
So's your face to all the people who were hating on Ana Lucia! She rocks!
I kinda think JJ should've made the tail section be Season 2 of Lost. Then Season 3 would be the reunion and Season 4 the rescue.
Oh well, let the games begin!
Ana Lucia vs. Sayid. Awesome!
So's your face to all the people who were hating on Ana Lucia! She rocks!
I kinda think JJ should've made the tail section be Season 2 of Lost. Then Season 3 would be the reunion and Season 4 the rescue.
Oh well, let the games begin!
Ana Lucia vs. Sayid. Awesome!
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
DAWN'S SUPERFANTASTIC LIST OF CRAZY STUFF SHE'S NEVER DONE
Ran with scissors.
Taken a bath with a plugged in TV perched on the side of the tub.
Ridden on the outside of a moving subway train.
Swallowed pills out of a bottle with no label.
Taunted a rabid animal.
Rode a motorcycle drunk, in the rain, after dark, on an unpaved road.
Gone swimming less than an hour after lunch.
Eaten fugu.
Seen Carrot Top perform live
Shared a syringe needle with a syphalitic hooker.
Pulled a gun on a cop.
Gotten wasted on the roof of a house.
Volunteered for a suicide mission.
Partied at Phil Spector's house.
Tickled a porcupine.
The lambada.
Walked under a falling anvil.
Had a spur of the moment bungy jumping.
Walked a dog while wearing rollerskates.
Wore a bomb under my clothes.
Been sawed in half during a magic trick.
Stuck my head out the window of a moving vehicle.
Drank tap water in Mexico.
Tamed a wild animal with nothing more than a footstool and a whip.
Walked blindfolded across a tightrope wire.
Climbed Mount Everest.
Challenged a skinny Asian man to a hot dog eating contest.
Carried unstable sticks of dynamite in a backpack while running through the jungle.
Jimmied a lock.
Thrown a glass of liquid in another person's face at a restaurant.
Had quintuplets.
Watched 'Quintuplets.'
Seen Death to Smoochey.
Built wings using wax and flown too close to the sun.
Had a dance off with pre-baby Britney.
Spent a night behind bars with Martha Stewart.
Open heart surgery.
Journey across a desert on the back of a camel.
Had to eat a person for survival.
Joined the Circus.
Joined the Army.
Swam in shark infested waters. Settled a dispute with a race around the world.
Brought in a 747 for an emergency landing.
Awoken from a coma after twelve years with no memory of my life.
Fallen down a well as a toddler.
Dug my own grave.
Been in the witness protection program.
Seen the 3D images in those Magic-Eye pictures.
Bet it all on black.
Made a souffle.
Ran with scissors.
Taken a bath with a plugged in TV perched on the side of the tub.
Ridden on the outside of a moving subway train.
Swallowed pills out of a bottle with no label.
Taunted a rabid animal.
Rode a motorcycle drunk, in the rain, after dark, on an unpaved road.
Gone swimming less than an hour after lunch.
Eaten fugu.
Seen Carrot Top perform live
Shared a syringe needle with a syphalitic hooker.
Pulled a gun on a cop.
Gotten wasted on the roof of a house.
Volunteered for a suicide mission.
Partied at Phil Spector's house.
Tickled a porcupine.
The lambada.
Walked under a falling anvil.
Had a spur of the moment bungy jumping.
Walked a dog while wearing rollerskates.
Wore a bomb under my clothes.
Been sawed in half during a magic trick.
Stuck my head out the window of a moving vehicle.
Drank tap water in Mexico.
Tamed a wild animal with nothing more than a footstool and a whip.
Walked blindfolded across a tightrope wire.
Climbed Mount Everest.
Challenged a skinny Asian man to a hot dog eating contest.
Carried unstable sticks of dynamite in a backpack while running through the jungle.
Jimmied a lock.
Thrown a glass of liquid in another person's face at a restaurant.
Had quintuplets.
Watched 'Quintuplets.'
Seen Death to Smoochey.
Built wings using wax and flown too close to the sun.
Had a dance off with pre-baby Britney.
Spent a night behind bars with Martha Stewart.
Open heart surgery.
Journey across a desert on the back of a camel.
Had to eat a person for survival.
Joined the Circus.
Joined the Army.
Brought in a 747 for an emergency landing.
Awoken from a coma after twelve years with no memory of my life.
Fallen down a well as a toddler.
Dug my own grave.
Been in the witness protection program.
Seen the 3D images in those Magic-Eye pictures.
Bet it all on black.
Made a souffle.
I'M SICK, BUT I'M HAPPY
If anybody wants to come by for however many hours it's gonna take for me to watch all 40 discs -- email me.
Hopefully, my avian flu will be gone by the time Buffy gets here -- I don't wanna make the Scooby gang sick.
So Happy.
Whoever said you can't buy happiness didn't know squat about Amazon.com.
If anybody wants to come by for however many hours it's gonna take for me to watch all 40 discs -- email me.
Hopefully, my avian flu will be gone by the time Buffy gets here -- I don't wanna make the Scooby gang sick.
So Happy.
Whoever said you can't buy happiness didn't know squat about Amazon.com.
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
NO FRICKIN' WAY
via Gib
| Your Superhero Profile |
 Your Superhero Name is The Professor Punisher Your Superpower is Soul Sold to Devil Your Weakness is Itching Your Weapon is Your Grenade Saber Your Mode of Transportation is Hot Air Balloon |
via Gib
Monday, November 14, 2005
A-HA!
Turns out the conservative women bloggers, are really men.
I always knew Karol was a man's name.
Of course, this adds a new dimension to this contest.
via iocaste.
Turns out the conservative women bloggers, are really men.
I always knew Karol was a man's name.
Of course, this adds a new dimension to this contest.
via iocaste.
PUT YOUR MAKEUP ON, FIX YOUR HAIR UP PRETTY...
F-train has this awesome rule about the driver of a car getting to pick the music for the ride.
It’s a rule I dig so much, it’s made F-train one of only two people allowed in my car.
Unfortunately, I discovered yesterday that his rule is probably the only way he would ever get to choose music on a drive. Which, I can tell you, after two and a half hours of horrifying euro crap ---an entirely unpleasant combination of alley cats with tin cans tied to their tails, sliding claws first, down a chalkboard while yelping --- no…wait, it was the acid euro crap jazz that had me longing for the alley cat chalkboard scraping tin can yelping.
But I am getting ahead of myself… that was all later. Much, much later.
In the beginning there was me – already somewhat exhausted after playing poker till four in the morning, driving down the Staten Island Expressway with F-train, the whiteyest white boy you ever did see, rapping “Damn it feels good to be a gangsta
A real gangsta-ass nigga plays his cards right” in the passenger seat.
We cruised along at a perfectly law abiding 65-70 mph through Staten Island – after the bank approved the loan on the mortgage needed to pay the toll, of course.
F-train proved a most unreliable navigator, failing to provide the most basic finger pointing ‘turn there’ services required. After missing the exit to the Outerbridge Crossing to Jersey, I decided to navigate by memory.
And my memory was telling me we needed to get on the Jersey Turnpike.
We made a U-turn in the Korean War Memorial parking lot and I switched into the turnpike lane.
“No, we don’t need the turnpike, we need the garden parkway.”
“But I remember being on the Turnpike for a little while and then the parkway.”
“Who are we going to trust, the guy who grew up in New Jersey and went to visit his grandmother on the shore or the one who grew up in Flatbush?”
“Hmmph. That’s Prospect Gardens to you mister.”
We kept driving, but there were no signs for the Parkway. There were however many a sign for the Turnpike.
I made an executive decision and started to turn the wheel toward the turnpike.
F-train was having none of it.
“I swear, if you get on the Turnpike I will kick your ass.”
Now, for the whiteyest white boy weighing all of 90 pounds soaking wet, in a leather jacket and creepy shades, F-train can be surprisingly frightening.
We finally found the Parkway and were inching ever closer to destination AC. Everything was going swimmingly well, until a vicious deer suddenly appeared out of nowhere and almost killed us!
Sure, it was on the side of the road eating grass, but still, I saw murder in its eyes.
Getting to AC took longer than I thought.
“Well, yes, when you drive 20 miles an hour the whole way, it’ll take longer than you think.”
Shut it.
We met up with Sox Lover, Joaquin and Carter in the Borgata poker room.
They had gotten there the day before. Sox Lover and Joaquin spent the night in a motel room which, apparently, served as the headquarters for the World Series of Chain Smoking.
“It’s like all at once everybody decided to smoke eighteen packs of cigarettes.”
Carter, on the other hand, was staying at the Borgata...though, I don’t think he was enjoying it anymore than the other two liked the motel.
“Yeah, I guess his roommates met up with some skanky girls, who, when they found out they were staying in the Borgata, wanted to come back with them. So when Carter came back he was climbing over these girls sleeping on the floor.
Of course, since we didn’t have any hotel plans, I was thinking ‘Hey, don’t knock it F-train, we may be sleeping on the floor with those skanky girls tonight.'
And if karma has anything to say about it, I would wake up in the morning and ask Carter what his name was and who the other people sleeping in the room were!
The guys had not been running well at the poker tables, SoxLover in particular had taken some bad beats.
But, after a day of hearing about them, Joaquin evidently had threatened to take Sox Lover’s life if he ever told the stories again, so Sox Lover was pretty cryptic about the whole thing.
“All I’m gonna say about it is one thing: set over set. Oh, and one more thing, 750 dollars.”
After a few more hours of him saying “just one more thing” about it – 897 at last count, we sussed out that there was something about having a set beat by a straight and then having another set beat by an overset.
When he discovered that I was the sober one who wrote about the boathouse, he got all nervous about the AC trip.
“So, we’ve got to be careful about what we say, huh?”
“Yeah, before I got in the car with her, I had to go into lockdown mode.”
“What? I so do not publish everything I see and hear around me.”
I mean, F-train only sings the Audrey part in Suddenly Seymour and seems way too enthused about Seymour being his man, but I don't blog about it.
Nor did I write about him consoling Joaquin with the very PC “that’s how it is man. You make your deposit in her hoo ha and she makes a withdrawal from your bank account.”
Oh…oh…and who didn’t write about Sox Lover’s observation that finding a pretty cocktail waitress in Las Vegas is easy because they have a deep field out there, but in AC, the only pretty ones work at the Borgata?
Nor did I then comment “so, that’s what you guys meant when you said the juiciest action was at the Borgata?”
Frankly, all of them owe me and my discretion, a huge apology.
Of course, since they are poker bloggers with hundred dollar bills in rubber bands for bankrolls, and I am a wee scaredy girl, I planned on playing low low limit games, while they went off to play no limit.
I believe my game was called “No fold ‘em hold ‘em.”
While we waited, F-train, Sox Lover and I headed up to the bar (appropriately named ‘Bar’) for a drink.
I ordered a strawberry daiquiri, only to be told that they don’t make daiquiris.
Stupid Atlantic City.
Las Vegas makes daiquiris.
Of course, considering that when I was out last weekend (at a place inappropriately named ‘The magician’) and tried to order a daiquiri, pearatty mocked me because she said that only twelve-year-olds drink daiquiris and since they can’t get into bars, no bar makes them.
Sigh.
I settled for Jersey tap water in a fancy glass, at which point F-train volunteered to buy the first round.
What a guy.
Finally, it was time for the poker playing.
There was an incredibly loooooong wait for my low low limit table, so I decided to play a higher limit than I was used to.
“Are you nervous?” Sox Lover kept asking.
Well, I wasn’t when you asked the first nineteen times, but now, at time 21, I’m getting there.
Thanks.
My trepidation was further compounded when Joaquin drew the seat to my left.
Mommy. Help me.
It was a disaster all around. I got confused and thought the game limits were the big and small blind, totally forgot what the chips were worth, my hands were shaking and all I kept thinking was: dude, when is a 2/4 chair gonna open up?
Of course, I won a nice pot with my first hand, which, you’d think is a good thing.
You’d be wrong.
Winning your first hand makes you think ‘wow, if I can win with J3o, I can do anything.’
Losing half your stack in the next three hands, however, kills that impulse reeeaaallll fast.
Joaquin and I chatted for the next hour or so as both our stacks bled down to critical levels. Turns out, I’m not the only New Yorker who likey the country music and he’s cousins with a friend of mine from college.
F-train came by to check on me and upon seeing the felt through the scant chips I had left, told me I needed to play more drawing hands. “Suited aces,” he said “are gold.”
OK…I guess I can’t do any worse.
My very next hand I was dealt suited A7. Normally, I would fold this hand.
But.
I called.
Joaquin, to my left, raised it up.
Damn you, F-train.
But, whatever, I was already in, so I called.
The flop hit my ace.
I bet it.
Joaquin raised.
Again, with top pair on the board, I called.
I just called on both the river and the turn because my kicker was crap.
Joaquin turned over a pair of jacks and I won the pot with my aces.
Gulp.
“You wouldn’t hit a scaredy girl, now would you?”
He was very gracious about the loss, saving the rage at my idiot calls for the old Chinese dude that would take most of his chips on the next hand with a full house.
My luck turned around and I managed to crawl back up to my buy in.
I had maybe a few dollars more than my buy in, when I was dealt K9s.
I called.
The flop came K Q 7 rainbow.
I led out, I was raised. I called. Three people were left in the hand. This old dude, that I kept underestimating and who, thusly, kept taking my money and this retarded (possibly drunk) calling station that had taken Joaquin’s seat when he busted out.
The turn was another King.
Fearing my crappy kicker would do me in, I checked.
The calling station checked.
The old dude led out, I called.
Calling station…whoa…folded.
The river was another KING!
Wooooooo
Of course, now I’m pissed that I checked the turn and I can’t believe the old dude didn’t even have a king.
I lead out, he raises, I re-raise, he raises, I raise, he looks at his cards and says
“Do you have a king?”
I stare at the felt.
He calls.
He turns over Q7.
I show my dog of a hand (get it K9? Canine…dog…hand.)
Everyone at the table oohh and aaahs, comments on how cheap the Borgata is for not having high hand prizes.
The old dude stares me down and then makes some comment about how far behind I was.
I looked at him and was like ‘dude, you had Q7o and decided to play it, so’s your stupid face.’
At this point, I’ll say, I should have left the table. I should have scooped up all my chips, cashed out and gone to the lounge to watch DVDs.
In fact, I will say that I left the table, scooped up all my chips, cashed out and went to the lounge to watch DVDs.
That way, I won’t have to say that I lost practically half my stack a few hands later, when I was dealt Big Slick, made the straight on the turn, only to get four flushed my some dimwit holding Q4o.
Which also means, that as I watched the dealer pushing all of my chips over to her, I didn’t hear her say: “This game is soo funny. I stayed in for the queen, but it was the four that won it for me.”
And it also means, I don’t have to spend the rest of my days stalking her, so I can burn her house down.
I kid.
That would be wrong.
Probably.
At the end of the night, F-train was the only big winner. He cracked some poor guy's pocket kings with a set of tens.
Sometimes poker does kick you in the junk.
Having had a crap night, we all decided to just drive back to New York instead of staying over.
And now we get to the crap euro pop.
Since I had only slept five hours and I was still muttering profanities about that stupid tramp and her four of spades, F-train was the designated driver back.
Having been the beneficiary of his driver’s choice rules, for years now, I couldn’t very well unplug his ipod from my car stereo, crush it beneath my foot and toss the remains out the passenger side window into the black New Jersey night.
Though there was a point during something called “Somnambulator,” where I came real close.
F-train was saying something or another about implied pot odds of chasing an inside straight or his brother being stationed in Oklahoma, I don't know. I pretty much heard blah blah blah …I cannot believe she called a preflop raise with q4o, then called a reraise on the flop holding middle pair the whole ride back.
(And then, because I am insane, would imagine myself blogging the trip and then, sporadically laugh out loud at my imaginary post.)
We stopped for dinner at about 3AM. And really, at 3AM, dinner should just be about pointing, paying and swallowing hurriedly. Otherwise, you end up with this:
“Can I have two double cheeseburgers, one nothing but meat and cheese ---“
“---and the one with no mustard or pickles.”
“So, you want three?”
“No. Just two. One with no mustard or pickles and one that’s disgusting.”
Thankfully, a manager came out and translated.
“So, one plain and one with just ketchup.”
YES!
I hadn’t eaten since 9 AM on Saturday, so I am not ashamed to say that I finished my burger in something like 39 seconds, and uttered the words: “well done, Burger King, well done.”
“Eh, see how you feel about it in half an hour.”
Shut it, F-train.
We made it back to NY in one piece and he even managed to drive my car in reverse into my extremely narrow driveway without scratching the sides or hitting the garage wall.
No doubt watching me drive to Jersey had taught him a thing or two.
Like, slow down when switching lanes, slow down when passing disabled vehicles, speed up when taking a curved exit, repeatedly tell yourself out loud not to exit, if you don’t want to exit, make sure you turn off the headlights when you park, repeatedly remind yourself not to leave the credit card in the pump at the gas station and most importantly, memorize all the pot holes in the ghetto – so you don’t hit them when returning from AC at 4 in the morning.
Oh, and I will say that the F-train didn’t look so gangsta as we stood on the deserted street in East Coco Beach, waiting for our cab.
“How bad is this neighborhood we’re in right now?” he asked, shifting his weight from leg to leg.
Bad? Why not bad at all for a real gangsta ass nigga who plays his cards right, not bad at all.
Heh.
Ah, Good Times.
F-train has this awesome rule about the driver of a car getting to pick the music for the ride.
It’s a rule I dig so much, it’s made F-train one of only two people allowed in my car.
Unfortunately, I discovered yesterday that his rule is probably the only way he would ever get to choose music on a drive. Which, I can tell you, after two and a half hours of horrifying euro crap ---an entirely unpleasant combination of alley cats with tin cans tied to their tails, sliding claws first, down a chalkboard while yelping --- no…wait, it was the acid euro crap jazz that had me longing for the alley cat chalkboard scraping tin can yelping.
But I am getting ahead of myself… that was all later. Much, much later.
In the beginning there was me – already somewhat exhausted after playing poker till four in the morning, driving down the Staten Island Expressway with F-train, the whiteyest white boy you ever did see, rapping “Damn it feels good to be a gangsta
A real gangsta-ass nigga plays his cards right” in the passenger seat.
We cruised along at a perfectly law abiding 65-70 mph through Staten Island – after the bank approved the loan on the mortgage needed to pay the toll, of course.
F-train proved a most unreliable navigator, failing to provide the most basic finger pointing ‘turn there’ services required. After missing the exit to the Outerbridge Crossing to Jersey, I decided to navigate by memory.
And my memory was telling me we needed to get on the Jersey Turnpike.
We made a U-turn in the Korean War Memorial parking lot and I switched into the turnpike lane.
“No, we don’t need the turnpike, we need the garden parkway.”
“But I remember being on the Turnpike for a little while and then the parkway.”
“Who are we going to trust, the guy who grew up in New Jersey and went to visit his grandmother on the shore or the one who grew up in Flatbush?”
“Hmmph. That’s Prospect Gardens to you mister.”
We kept driving, but there were no signs for the Parkway. There were however many a sign for the Turnpike.
I made an executive decision and started to turn the wheel toward the turnpike.
F-train was having none of it.
“I swear, if you get on the Turnpike I will kick your ass.”
Now, for the whiteyest white boy weighing all of 90 pounds soaking wet, in a leather jacket and creepy shades, F-train can be surprisingly frightening.
We finally found the Parkway and were inching ever closer to destination AC. Everything was going swimmingly well, until a vicious deer suddenly appeared out of nowhere and almost killed us!
Sure, it was on the side of the road eating grass, but still, I saw murder in its eyes.
Getting to AC took longer than I thought.
“Well, yes, when you drive 20 miles an hour the whole way, it’ll take longer than you think.”
Shut it.
We met up with Sox Lover, Joaquin and Carter in the Borgata poker room.
They had gotten there the day before. Sox Lover and Joaquin spent the night in a motel room which, apparently, served as the headquarters for the World Series of Chain Smoking.
“It’s like all at once everybody decided to smoke eighteen packs of cigarettes.”
Carter, on the other hand, was staying at the Borgata...though, I don’t think he was enjoying it anymore than the other two liked the motel.
“Yeah, I guess his roommates met up with some skanky girls, who, when they found out they were staying in the Borgata, wanted to come back with them. So when Carter came back he was climbing over these girls sleeping on the floor.
Of course, since we didn’t have any hotel plans, I was thinking ‘Hey, don’t knock it F-train, we may be sleeping on the floor with those skanky girls tonight.'
And if karma has anything to say about it, I would wake up in the morning and ask Carter what his name was and who the other people sleeping in the room were!
The guys had not been running well at the poker tables, SoxLover in particular had taken some bad beats.
But, after a day of hearing about them, Joaquin evidently had threatened to take Sox Lover’s life if he ever told the stories again, so Sox Lover was pretty cryptic about the whole thing.
“All I’m gonna say about it is one thing: set over set. Oh, and one more thing, 750 dollars.”
After a few more hours of him saying “just one more thing” about it – 897 at last count, we sussed out that there was something about having a set beat by a straight and then having another set beat by an overset.
When he discovered that I was the sober one who wrote about the boathouse, he got all nervous about the AC trip.
“So, we’ve got to be careful about what we say, huh?”
“Yeah, before I got in the car with her, I had to go into lockdown mode.”
“What? I so do not publish everything I see and hear around me.”
I mean, F-train only sings the Audrey part in Suddenly Seymour and seems way too enthused about Seymour being his man, but I don't blog about it.
Nor did I write about him consoling Joaquin with the very PC “that’s how it is man. You make your deposit in her hoo ha and she makes a withdrawal from your bank account.”
Oh…oh…and who didn’t write about Sox Lover’s observation that finding a pretty cocktail waitress in Las Vegas is easy because they have a deep field out there, but in AC, the only pretty ones work at the Borgata?
Nor did I then comment “so, that’s what you guys meant when you said the juiciest action was at the Borgata?”
Frankly, all of them owe me and my discretion, a huge apology.
Of course, since they are poker bloggers with hundred dollar bills in rubber bands for bankrolls, and I am a wee scaredy girl, I planned on playing low low limit games, while they went off to play no limit.
I believe my game was called “No fold ‘em hold ‘em.”
While we waited, F-train, Sox Lover and I headed up to the bar (appropriately named ‘Bar’) for a drink.
I ordered a strawberry daiquiri, only to be told that they don’t make daiquiris.
Stupid Atlantic City.
Las Vegas makes daiquiris.
Of course, considering that when I was out last weekend (at a place inappropriately named ‘The magician’) and tried to order a daiquiri, pearatty mocked me because she said that only twelve-year-olds drink daiquiris and since they can’t get into bars, no bar makes them.
Sigh.
I settled for Jersey tap water in a fancy glass, at which point F-train volunteered to buy the first round.
What a guy.
Finally, it was time for the poker playing.
There was an incredibly loooooong wait for my low low limit table, so I decided to play a higher limit than I was used to.
“Are you nervous?” Sox Lover kept asking.
Well, I wasn’t when you asked the first nineteen times, but now, at time 21, I’m getting there.
Thanks.
My trepidation was further compounded when Joaquin drew the seat to my left.
Mommy. Help me.
It was a disaster all around. I got confused and thought the game limits were the big and small blind, totally forgot what the chips were worth, my hands were shaking and all I kept thinking was: dude, when is a 2/4 chair gonna open up?
Of course, I won a nice pot with my first hand, which, you’d think is a good thing.
You’d be wrong.
Winning your first hand makes you think ‘wow, if I can win with J3o, I can do anything.’
Losing half your stack in the next three hands, however, kills that impulse reeeaaallll fast.
Joaquin and I chatted for the next hour or so as both our stacks bled down to critical levels. Turns out, I’m not the only New Yorker who likey the country music and he’s cousins with a friend of mine from college.
F-train came by to check on me and upon seeing the felt through the scant chips I had left, told me I needed to play more drawing hands. “Suited aces,” he said “are gold.”
OK…I guess I can’t do any worse.
My very next hand I was dealt suited A7. Normally, I would fold this hand.
But.
I called.
Joaquin, to my left, raised it up.
Damn you, F-train.
But, whatever, I was already in, so I called.
The flop hit my ace.
I bet it.
Joaquin raised.
Again, with top pair on the board, I called.
I just called on both the river and the turn because my kicker was crap.
Joaquin turned over a pair of jacks and I won the pot with my aces.
Gulp.
“You wouldn’t hit a scaredy girl, now would you?”
He was very gracious about the loss, saving the rage at my idiot calls for the old Chinese dude that would take most of his chips on the next hand with a full house.
My luck turned around and I managed to crawl back up to my buy in.
I had maybe a few dollars more than my buy in, when I was dealt K9s.
I called.
The flop came K Q 7 rainbow.
I led out, I was raised. I called. Three people were left in the hand. This old dude, that I kept underestimating and who, thusly, kept taking my money and this retarded (possibly drunk) calling station that had taken Joaquin’s seat when he busted out.
The turn was another King.
Fearing my crappy kicker would do me in, I checked.
The calling station checked.
The old dude led out, I called.
Calling station…whoa…folded.
The river was another KING!
Wooooooo
Of course, now I’m pissed that I checked the turn and I can’t believe the old dude didn’t even have a king.
I lead out, he raises, I re-raise, he raises, I raise, he looks at his cards and says
“Do you have a king?”
I stare at the felt.
He calls.
He turns over Q7.
I show my dog of a hand (get it K9? Canine…dog…hand.)
Everyone at the table oohh and aaahs, comments on how cheap the Borgata is for not having high hand prizes.
The old dude stares me down and then makes some comment about how far behind I was.
I looked at him and was like ‘dude, you had Q7o and decided to play it, so’s your stupid face.’
At this point, I’ll say, I should have left the table. I should have scooped up all my chips, cashed out and gone to the lounge to watch DVDs.
In fact, I will say that I left the table, scooped up all my chips, cashed out and went to the lounge to watch DVDs.
That way, I won’t have to say that I lost practically half my stack a few hands later, when I was dealt Big Slick, made the straight on the turn, only to get four flushed my some dimwit holding Q4o.
Which also means, that as I watched the dealer pushing all of my chips over to her, I didn’t hear her say: “This game is soo funny. I stayed in for the queen, but it was the four that won it for me.”
And it also means, I don’t have to spend the rest of my days stalking her, so I can burn her house down.
I kid.
That would be wrong.
Probably.
At the end of the night, F-train was the only big winner. He cracked some poor guy's pocket kings with a set of tens.
Sometimes poker does kick you in the junk.
Having had a crap night, we all decided to just drive back to New York instead of staying over.
And now we get to the crap euro pop.
Since I had only slept five hours and I was still muttering profanities about that stupid tramp and her four of spades, F-train was the designated driver back.
Having been the beneficiary of his driver’s choice rules, for years now, I couldn’t very well unplug his ipod from my car stereo, crush it beneath my foot and toss the remains out the passenger side window into the black New Jersey night.
Though there was a point during something called “Somnambulator,” where I came real close.
F-train was saying something or another about implied pot odds of chasing an inside straight or his brother being stationed in Oklahoma, I don't know. I pretty much heard blah blah blah …I cannot believe she called a preflop raise with q4o, then called a reraise on the flop holding middle pair the whole ride back.
(And then, because I am insane, would imagine myself blogging the trip and then, sporadically laugh out loud at my imaginary post.)
We stopped for dinner at about 3AM. And really, at 3AM, dinner should just be about pointing, paying and swallowing hurriedly. Otherwise, you end up with this:
“Can I have two double cheeseburgers, one nothing but meat and cheese ---“
“---and the one with no mustard or pickles.”
“So, you want three?”
“No. Just two. One with no mustard or pickles and one that’s disgusting.”
Thankfully, a manager came out and translated.
“So, one plain and one with just ketchup.”
YES!
I hadn’t eaten since 9 AM on Saturday, so I am not ashamed to say that I finished my burger in something like 39 seconds, and uttered the words: “well done, Burger King, well done.”
“Eh, see how you feel about it in half an hour.”
Shut it, F-train.
We made it back to NY in one piece and he even managed to drive my car in reverse into my extremely narrow driveway without scratching the sides or hitting the garage wall.
No doubt watching me drive to Jersey had taught him a thing or two.
Like, slow down when switching lanes, slow down when passing disabled vehicles, speed up when taking a curved exit, repeatedly tell yourself out loud not to exit, if you don’t want to exit, make sure you turn off the headlights when you park, repeatedly remind yourself not to leave the credit card in the pump at the gas station and most importantly, memorize all the pot holes in the ghetto – so you don’t hit them when returning from AC at 4 in the morning.
Oh, and I will say that the F-train didn’t look so gangsta as we stood on the deserted street in East Coco Beach, waiting for our cab.
“How bad is this neighborhood we’re in right now?” he asked, shifting his weight from leg to leg.
Bad? Why not bad at all for a real gangsta ass nigga who plays his cards right, not bad at all.
Heh.
Ah, Good Times.
Sunday, November 13, 2005
$9 TOLL FOR A BRIDGE?
Who or what does Staten effin Island think it is?
Yeah, you just know there's an Atlantic City post coming.
4:07 A.M.
The time when your computer's 'welcome' greeting has you puzzling over what in the world "wee lc ohm" means.
The time when your computer's 'welcome' greeting has you puzzling over what in the world "wee lc ohm" means.
Saturday, November 12, 2005
CLAREIFIED'S 100,000TH VISITOR!
Hooray. And hey, it came from some guy riding the F-train.
That so sounds dirty.
Hooray. And hey, it came from some guy riding the F-train.
That so sounds dirty.
Friday, November 11, 2005
OOOOH...PITTSBURGH TO NEW YORK
How will he manage?
So, with his two big dreams on a collision course, Hartigan is crafting an ambitious travel plan.
The senior running back has made the finals in the Rhodes selection process and will have to interview November 18 in Pittsburgh for the scholarship. Then he'll have to jump on a plane for New York, where Brown plays Columbia in its season finale the following day; at least a share of the Ivy League title could be on the line.
Sheesh, is Brown still in the Ivy League?
How will he manage?
So, with his two big dreams on a collision course, Hartigan is crafting an ambitious travel plan.
The senior running back has made the finals in the Rhodes selection process and will have to interview November 18 in Pittsburgh for the scholarship. Then he'll have to jump on a plane for New York, where Brown plays Columbia in its season finale the following day; at least a share of the Ivy League title could be on the line.
Sheesh, is Brown still in the Ivy League?
STUPID FACTS MUCKING UP A GOOD MOVIE
"My mom was basically a nonentity in the entire film except for the mad little psycho who hated his career. That's not true. She loved his career and was proud of him until he started taking drugs and stopped coming home," Kathy Cash said.
Vivian Liberto Distin died earlier this year as a result of complications from lung cancer. She and Cash were married 13 years and had four children together. He pledged to remain faithful to her in his song "I Walk the Line."
Although, people are only allowed to walk out of a movie once.
"My mom was basically a nonentity in the entire film except for the mad little psycho who hated his career. That's not true. She loved his career and was proud of him until he started taking drugs and stopped coming home," Kathy Cash said.
Vivian Liberto Distin died earlier this year as a result of complications from lung cancer. She and Cash were married 13 years and had four children together. He pledged to remain faithful to her in his song "I Walk the Line."
Although, people are only allowed to walk out of a movie once.
THE DONALD IS ON 'FIRE'
Third multiple firing in as many weeks.
Dude...will the show last the whole Season? Oh, no...wait the multiple firing two weeks ago was Martha's, my bad.
Clareified: All about Dawn Summers thinking out loud in public.
Third multiple firing in as many weeks.
Dude...will the show last the whole Season? Oh, no...wait the multiple firing two weeks ago was Martha's, my bad.
Clareified: All about Dawn Summers thinking out loud in public.
WHO KNEW REPUBLICANS AND FRANCE HAD SO MUCH IN COMMON?
France's Constitution guarantees equality to all, but that has long been interpreted to mean that ethnic or religious differences are not the purview of the state. The result is that no one looks at such differences to track growing inequalities and so discrimination is easy to hide.
"People have it in their head that surveying by race or religion is bad, it's dirty, it's something reserved for Americans and that we shouldn't do it here," said Yazid Sabeg, the only prominent Frenchman of Arab descent at the head of a publicly listed French company. "But without statistics to look at, how can we measure the problem?"
Freedom Fries, Indeed.
France's Constitution guarantees equality to all, but that has long been interpreted to mean that ethnic or religious differences are not the purview of the state. The result is that no one looks at such differences to track growing inequalities and so discrimination is easy to hide.
"People have it in their head that surveying by race or religion is bad, it's dirty, it's something reserved for Americans and that we shouldn't do it here," said Yazid Sabeg, the only prominent Frenchman of Arab descent at the head of a publicly listed French company. "But without statistics to look at, how can we measure the problem?"
Freedom Fries, Indeed.
RAY-CIST
Loews pulls 'Get Rich or Die Tryin' from its Pitsburgh theater.
They'd better not be showing Jarhead either.
Morons.
Pull the movie for the right reasons: it sucks.
Loews pulls 'Get Rich or Die Tryin' from its Pitsburgh theater.
They'd better not be showing Jarhead either.
Morons.
Pull the movie for the right reasons: it sucks.
I Support the Troops, but I Support the War
Before we went into Iraq, my position was firmly: I support the war, if it makes us safer. Astute hearers of my position criticized my view as basically not having an opinion.
Bah.
I say, 'wait and see' is definitely an opinion.
Of course, then, it was safer from the threat of dirty bombs and WMD that would be launched at us -- I so did not want the definite evidence in the form of a 'mushroom cloud' over our cities! (HA HA...remember the mushroom clouds!?! That wacky Bush.)
But years and no WMD later, I find myself firmly commited to staying in Iraq forever.
And no, I'm not some spreader of Democracy zealot -- although I do think Taiwan has more than proved itself worthy of finally being supported by the community of nations. In fact, I couldn't care less about Iraq or the Iraqi people. Scratch that -- it's because I couldn't care less about Iraq or the Iraqi people, that I think we should stay there as loooooong as possible.
Where critics see the "vigourous insurgency" and "flood of new terrorists into Iraq" as negatives, I actually think that's the genius of the Iraq war.
Basically, we've created a mini America -- walking distance from the terrorist front doors. They want to hit America, prove they're better, kill infidels -- well, say goodbye to long international flights, the enemy is right in the backyard!
Plus, the "American enemy" that they fight is no longer unsuspecting office workers or early morning kitchen staff -- it's the men and the women of the armed forces. People trained and volunteered for the job fighting the enemy.
Car bombs, roadside explosives, crazy ass suicide murderers --- as long as they are focussed on Iraq, they aren't here.
And as long as they're there and not here, I will continue to support the war.
No doubt Iraq had nothing to do with 9/11 -- but that was then. Now, those same people are content to try to beat the U.S. on Iraqi soil (and British, Indonesian and Jordanian soil...), and it's in our best interests to let them try.
No doubt Bush sees the situation the same way. Everything about the handling of this war seems designed for us to be just a little bit ahead --- can't go in completely unarmed, but can't go in full force, dressed in head to toe kevlar, with our guns blazing, making it seem impossible for the insurgents to win.
"Make sure the boys have bulletproof tanks, guns, body armor, bullets and lots of water."
"Yes Sir."
"No. Wait. Scratch the body armor... and the bulletproofing...let's go with regular tanks...but keep the water. It's sandy out there."
"Yes, Mr. President."
Or something like that -- point is we can't leave Iraq. Not now, not ever...well, possibly if we're sure every one of the insurgents is dead --- but even then I think they'd just be in retreat and planning to go back to the old sleeper cells in the U.S. plots.
Nope, we can never ever leave Iraq.
I know the whole 'bring our troops home' feels good and seeing moms of dead soldiers makes us sad -- but 2,042 soldiers in two years, is still less than 3,000 in two hours. And while it may cost the lives of hundreds of thousands of Iraqi citizens...umm...well...you can't make an omelet without cracking a few hundred thousand eggs? I don't know -- maybe they can get relocated to Iran after we take that country out.
Happy Veterans Day.
Before we went into Iraq, my position was firmly: I support the war, if it makes us safer. Astute hearers of my position criticized my view as basically not having an opinion.
Bah.
I say, 'wait and see' is definitely an opinion.
Of course, then, it was safer from the threat of dirty bombs and WMD that would be launched at us -- I so did not want the definite evidence in the form of a 'mushroom cloud' over our cities! (HA HA...remember the mushroom clouds!?! That wacky Bush.)
But years and no WMD later, I find myself firmly commited to staying in Iraq forever.
And no, I'm not some spreader of Democracy zealot -- although I do think Taiwan has more than proved itself worthy of finally being supported by the community of nations. In fact, I couldn't care less about Iraq or the Iraqi people. Scratch that -- it's because I couldn't care less about Iraq or the Iraqi people, that I think we should stay there as loooooong as possible.
Where critics see the "vigourous insurgency" and "flood of new terrorists into Iraq" as negatives, I actually think that's the genius of the Iraq war.
Basically, we've created a mini America -- walking distance from the terrorist front doors. They want to hit America, prove they're better, kill infidels -- well, say goodbye to long international flights, the enemy is right in the backyard!
Plus, the "American enemy" that they fight is no longer unsuspecting office workers or early morning kitchen staff -- it's the men and the women of the armed forces. People trained and volunteered for the job fighting the enemy.
Car bombs, roadside explosives, crazy ass suicide murderers --- as long as they are focussed on Iraq, they aren't here.
And as long as they're there and not here, I will continue to support the war.
No doubt Iraq had nothing to do with 9/11 -- but that was then. Now, those same people are content to try to beat the U.S. on Iraqi soil (and British, Indonesian and Jordanian soil...), and it's in our best interests to let them try.
No doubt Bush sees the situation the same way. Everything about the handling of this war seems designed for us to be just a little bit ahead --- can't go in completely unarmed, but can't go in full force, dressed in head to toe kevlar, with our guns blazing, making it seem impossible for the insurgents to win.
"Make sure the boys have bulletproof tanks, guns, body armor, bullets and lots of water."
"Yes Sir."
"No. Wait. Scratch the body armor... and the bulletproofing...let's go with regular tanks...but keep the water. It's sandy out there."
"Yes, Mr. President."
Or something like that -- point is we can't leave Iraq. Not now, not ever...well, possibly if we're sure every one of the insurgents is dead --- but even then I think they'd just be in retreat and planning to go back to the old sleeper cells in the U.S. plots.
Nope, we can never ever leave Iraq.
I know the whole 'bring our troops home' feels good and seeing moms of dead soldiers makes us sad -- but 2,042 soldiers in two years, is still less than 3,000 in two hours. And while it may cost the lives of hundreds of thousands of Iraqi citizens...umm...well...you can't make an omelet without cracking a few hundred thousand eggs? I don't know -- maybe they can get relocated to Iran after we take that country out.
Happy Veterans Day.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
GOT RICH, STOPPED TRYIN': HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
I like my review better, but this one's pretty good.
And though 50 Cent, in his breakthrough hit "In Da Club," chanted "I'm into having sex, I ain't into making love," Marcus shows a decidedly chivalric streak, and a willingness to commit to his childhood sweetheart, Charlene (Joy Bryant). He is a ruthless thug with a sensitive side. An eager, disarming smile occasionally lights up Mr. Jackson's hard, impassive face, and at one point a tear even falls from his eye.
Unfortunately, that tear represents the far horizon of his range as an actor. As a rapper, 50 Cent has been an overachiever, selling boatloads of records in spite of his pedestrian skills. Lacking the verbal wit of a Jay-Z, the storytelling ability of a Biggie Smalls or the engaging personality of a Kanye West, he has gotten over through doggedness and a certain truculent charisma. That is not quite enough to sustain nearly two hours of drama, however, and Mr. Jackson is an inert, clumsy presence at the center of the movie, which seems to have been edited around his deficiencies.
The heavy reliance on voice-over narration is one sign of this. Another is that the most memorable performances belong to secondary players, including Ms. Bryant, Terrence Howard of "Hustle & Flow" (as a hoodlum named Bama, who meets Marcus in a prison shower), Viola Davis (as Marcus's weary, loving grandmother) and the two heavies, Bill Duke and Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje. They all chip in to carry the picture, and Mr. Jackson along with it, to a level slightly above mediocrity. Mr. Sheridan, whose other movies include "My Left Foot," "The Boxer," "In the Name of the Father" and "In America," deserves some credit as well, for infusing a chaotic story with some touches of warm, easy humanism. This director specializes in stories of dreamers and strivers struggling with adverse circumstances, and he has an instinct for both the loneliness of the struggle and the solidarity that helps it along. The parts of "Get Rich or Die Tryin' " that feel most genuine have to do with friendship and family, rather than with criminal intrigue.
But the movie ultimately lacks an emotional core. It will certainly make 50 Cent even richer, but it wouldn't have killed him to try a bit harder.
I like my review better, but this one's pretty good.
And though 50 Cent, in his breakthrough hit "In Da Club," chanted "I'm into having sex, I ain't into making love," Marcus shows a decidedly chivalric streak, and a willingness to commit to his childhood sweetheart, Charlene (Joy Bryant). He is a ruthless thug with a sensitive side. An eager, disarming smile occasionally lights up Mr. Jackson's hard, impassive face, and at one point a tear even falls from his eye.
Unfortunately, that tear represents the far horizon of his range as an actor. As a rapper, 50 Cent has been an overachiever, selling boatloads of records in spite of his pedestrian skills. Lacking the verbal wit of a Jay-Z, the storytelling ability of a Biggie Smalls or the engaging personality of a Kanye West, he has gotten over through doggedness and a certain truculent charisma. That is not quite enough to sustain nearly two hours of drama, however, and Mr. Jackson is an inert, clumsy presence at the center of the movie, which seems to have been edited around his deficiencies.
The heavy reliance on voice-over narration is one sign of this. Another is that the most memorable performances belong to secondary players, including Ms. Bryant, Terrence Howard of "Hustle & Flow" (as a hoodlum named Bama, who meets Marcus in a prison shower), Viola Davis (as Marcus's weary, loving grandmother) and the two heavies, Bill Duke and Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje. They all chip in to carry the picture, and Mr. Jackson along with it, to a level slightly above mediocrity. Mr. Sheridan, whose other movies include "My Left Foot," "The Boxer," "In the Name of the Father" and "In America," deserves some credit as well, for infusing a chaotic story with some touches of warm, easy humanism. This director specializes in stories of dreamers and strivers struggling with adverse circumstances, and he has an instinct for both the loneliness of the struggle and the solidarity that helps it along. The parts of "Get Rich or Die Tryin' " that feel most genuine have to do with friendship and family, rather than with criminal intrigue.
But the movie ultimately lacks an emotional core. It will certainly make 50 Cent even richer, but it wouldn't have killed him to try a bit harder.
I NOW TAKE THIS OPPORTUNITY TO RESIGN FROM ONLINE QUIZ TAKING
via Kermit
| Oscar the Grouch You scored 33% Organization, 40% abstract, and 35% extroverted! |
| This test measured 3 variables. First, this test measured how organized you are. Some muppets like Cookie Monster make big messes, while others like Bert are quite anal about things being clean. Second, this test measured if you prefer a concrete or an abstract viewpoint. For the purposes of this test, concrete people are considered to gravitate more to mathematical and logical approaches, whereas abstract people are more the dreamers and artistic type. Third, this test measured if you are more of an introvert or an extrovert. By definition, an introvert concentrates more on herself and an extrovert focuses more on others. In this test an introvert was somebody that either tends to spend more time alone or thinks more about herself. You are more sloppy, both concrete and abstract, and more introverted. Here is why are you Oscar the Grouch. You are both sloppy. You might not always know where everything you need is. Perhaps you don't even care. You don't live in a trash can though. The other possible characters are If you enjoyed this test, I would love the feedback! Also if you want to tell me your favorite Sesame Street character, I can total them up and post them here. Perhaps your choice will win! |
 |
My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
|
| Link: The Your SESAME STREET Persona Test written by greencowsgomoo on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test |
via Kermit
GET RICH OR DIE TRYIN'
Karol has been bugging me to review it. Here goes:
It would be less painful to actually get shot nine times, than to see this movie.
I GUESS THAT'S A GOOD SHAPE FOR A BRAIN...
via Annika
All-Around Smart You are all-around smart. Essentially, that means that you are a good combination of your own knowledge and experience, along with having learned through instruction - and you are equally as good with theoretical things as you are with real-world, applied things. You have a well-rounded brain. 0% applied intelligence 20% natural intelligence | ||||
| ||||
Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com |
via Annika
RAY-CIST
A guy is killed in a movie theater lobby and Drudge calls that "murder at 50 cent flick."
It's people like him that meant I had to watch 50 cent sucking some chick's finger for two hours.
A guy is killed in a movie theater lobby and Drudge calls that "murder at 50 cent flick."
It's people like him that meant I had to watch 50 cent sucking some chick's finger for two hours.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
LOST BLOGGING
YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!
YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!
YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!
Woooooooooooooooooooo
Had to be done really.
YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!
YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!
YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!YES!
Woooooooooooooooooooo
Had to be done really.
SHEEEEEE'SSSSSSS OOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTTTTTT
Times accepts Judy Miller's resignation.
Lawyers for Ms. Miller and the paper negotiated a severance package, the details of which they would not disclose. Under the agreement, Ms. Miller will retire from the newspaper, and The Times will print a letter she wrote to the editor explaining her position. Ms. Miller originally demanded that she be able to write an essay for the paper's Op-Ed page challenging the allegations against her. The Times refused that demand - Gail Collins, editor of the editorial page, said, "We don't use the Op-Ed page for back and forth between one part of the paper and another" - but agreed to let her write the letter.
In that letter, to be published in The New York Times on Thursday under the heading, "Judith Miller's Farewell," Ms. Miller said she was leaving partly because some of her colleagues disagreed with her decision to testify in the C.I.A. leak case.
"But mainly," she wrote, "I have chosen to resign because over the last few months, I have become the news, something a New York Times reporter never wants to be."
She noted that even before going to jail, she had "become a lightning rod for public fury over the intelligence failures that helped lead our country to war." She said she regretted "that I was not permitted to pursue answers" to questions about those intelligence failures.
Times accepts Judy Miller's resignation.
Lawyers for Ms. Miller and the paper negotiated a severance package, the details of which they would not disclose. Under the agreement, Ms. Miller will retire from the newspaper, and The Times will print a letter she wrote to the editor explaining her position. Ms. Miller originally demanded that she be able to write an essay for the paper's Op-Ed page challenging the allegations against her. The Times refused that demand - Gail Collins, editor of the editorial page, said, "We don't use the Op-Ed page for back and forth between one part of the paper and another" - but agreed to let her write the letter.
In that letter, to be published in The New York Times on Thursday under the heading, "Judith Miller's Farewell," Ms. Miller said she was leaving partly because some of her colleagues disagreed with her decision to testify in the C.I.A. leak case.
"But mainly," she wrote, "I have chosen to resign because over the last few months, I have become the news, something a New York Times reporter never wants to be."
She noted that even before going to jail, she had "become a lightning rod for public fury over the intelligence failures that helped lead our country to war." She said she regretted "that I was not permitted to pursue answers" to questions about those intelligence failures.
BUT WOULDN'T THAT BE WHAT THEY WANT?
Gay guy is leaving Texas.
Personally, I'd stay. And recruit. And throw big gay parades every Sunday.
via Iocaste
Gay guy is leaving Texas.
Personally, I'd stay. And recruit. And throw big gay parades every Sunday.
via Iocaste
WOW, WILL ALICIA SILVERSTONE BE PISSED
HOLY SMOKES BATGIRL! You're one crazy dame. You're
a ball of fire, you really know how to turn up
the heat while looking good in a cowl. You're
not only intelligent, but know your way around
computers and all that fun stuff!
What superhero are you? (For the ladies)
brought to you by Quizilla
via Wonder Woman
GILMORE BLOGGING
Please. No more of these poorly edited episodes signifying nothing. Jess did look good though.
Please. No more of these poorly edited episodes signifying nothing. Jess did look good though.
CONGRATULATIONS COUNCILMAN PATRICK MURPHY*
*Only amusing if Karol didn't secretly quit his staff midway through the season to work for Mayor Bloomberg's campaign.
It happens.
*Only amusing if Karol didn't secretly quit his staff midway through the season to work for Mayor Bloomberg's campaign.
It happens.
SO RICH, SO WHITE
I really dig the photo of them in the Hitler smiley shirts, but refuse to register for the New York Post. (Thanks to Charles for the link!)
"We're proud of being white, we want to keep being white," said Lynx. "We want our people to stay white … we don't want to just be, you know, a big muddle. We just want to preserve our race."
Like totally, I hate when white people get all muddled. One minute you're just relaxing on the beach and the next thing you know, your beautiful alabaster skin is all darkened and brown. Sucks. (Lovin' the tribute songs to Nazis, by the way, classy.)
Oh, and it turns out they, not Eminem, are the great white hope:
"These gals will be breaking new ground, and will also capture the imagination of young boys and girls all across the world. The impact could be huge and their influence will encourage 'copycats' ...creating an entire genre of pro-White music. ...I'm hanging on the edge of my seat with anticipation."
Meee tooo!
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
DAMN YOU, BATESLINE
Damn yoooouuuuuuu.
Don't click if you apparently are a cracked out poker fiend.
Oh, by they by, I caught a mistake in the game.
Did you?
OUT OF THE CLOSET
Off the show.
Newly revealed character on 'Desperate Housewives,' fired for improper conduct.
Off the show.
Newly revealed character on 'Desperate Housewives,' fired for improper conduct.
ING HAS RAISED ITS INTEREST RATES
Yes, again!
I try to not to think about the fact that I currently have tens of thousands of dollars sitting in some stupid escrow account ether not earning 3.5%.
Still not thinking about it.
E-mail me via the link on the sidebar if you'd like to sign up for ING. You get a free $25 if you're referred.
Yes, again!
I try to not to think about the fact that I currently have tens of thousands of dollars sitting in some stupid escrow account ether not earning 3.5%.
Still not thinking about it.
E-mail me via the link on the sidebar if you'd like to sign up for ING. You get a free $25 if you're referred.
SO'S YOUR FACE
via Gib
Can anyone else tell that I am totally swamped with work right now? Cause I am.
JUDGES SEES 8-MONTH SENTENCE PLEA BARGAIN...
RAISES IT A YEAR AND A HALF
Schrieffer had nine prior speeding tickets and was driving with a suspended license at the time. His attorney said the scientist fell asleep at the wheel of his Mercedes-Benz.
Under a plea bargain with prosecutors, Schrieffer was supposed to get eight months in the county jail. But Superior Court Judge Jim Herman decided otherwise after listening to tearful relatives of the crash victims during an August hearing.
"I think you need a taste of state prison," Herman said at the time. "The tragedy of this case is that you're a bright man who has made great contributions to society. ... It's a puzzle why you decided to drive high-performance cars at great speeds on public highways."
:-(
At least 22 people were killed in the Evansville area, mostly from blows to the head or neck. Among them were a woman who was eight months pregnant, three young children and an 87-year-old. Some families suffered more than one death. And many people, still injured themselves, had the gruesome task of identifying their dead relatives; one father identified his 2-year-old for the local coroner, then clutched the child.
Many of the dead came from a single short street, Birkdale, in the Eastbrook Park. On Monday, Birkdale was a mound of debris. Cars were toppled upside down. Clothes and photographs and even cinderblocks sat perched in trees. Nearby, law enforcement workers used a pump to drain the large retaining pond beside the park. Several bodies were found on Sunday in the eight feet of water, Maj. David Wedding of the Vanderburgh County sheriff's office said as he stood at the pond's edge.
And just before noon on Monday, as the water levels were pumped down still further, a worker quietly called out to summon Annie Groves, the chief deputy coroner: "We've got another one."
Is the end nigh?
At least 22 people were killed in the Evansville area, mostly from blows to the head or neck. Among them were a woman who was eight months pregnant, three young children and an 87-year-old. Some families suffered more than one death. And many people, still injured themselves, had the gruesome task of identifying their dead relatives; one father identified his 2-year-old for the local coroner, then clutched the child.
Many of the dead came from a single short street, Birkdale, in the Eastbrook Park. On Monday, Birkdale was a mound of debris. Cars were toppled upside down. Clothes and photographs and even cinderblocks sat perched in trees. Nearby, law enforcement workers used a pump to drain the large retaining pond beside the park. Several bodies were found on Sunday in the eight feet of water, Maj. David Wedding of the Vanderburgh County sheriff's office said as he stood at the pond's edge.
And just before noon on Monday, as the water levels were pumped down still further, a worker quietly called out to summon Annie Groves, the chief deputy coroner: "We've got another one."
Is the end nigh?
MAYBE IT'S THE CALIFORNIA/FRANCE TIME DIFFERENCE
But Chirac's a full day behind Annika on handling the riots.
But Chirac's a full day behind Annika on handling the riots.
IT'S OFFICIAL
When Karol "with hair the color of the devil" Sheinin scored a "Good" on the degree of Evil quiz, I raised an eyebrow.
When F- "has been likened to the guy that was such a bad break-upper that Elaine stabbed him with a fork" Train, got a neutral, I loudly scoffed.
But now that ARI has gotten a good, I officially call: SHENNANIGANS!
She, after all, is the girl that said "I don't need to waste $11 to see the '40-year-old virgin.' I'll just wait ten years and go visit Dawn."
Which is of course ridiculous, since everyone knows I won't turn 40 for another fifteen years.
GOOD NEWS, BAD NEWS TIME
Dear (Next) Mayor Ferrer (ha ha),
I've always been one to take the bad news first. However, seeing as you decided to run for Mayor against a billionaire, even though you have raised very little money, I sense you're more of a 'good news first' guy.
So, here it is.
I did manage to vote for you this morning. Even though it meant taking a subway, a bus, walking three avenues, cleaning out the junk my mom now stores in my room -- so that I could sleep in a bed, waking up at seven a.m. and walking to my local elementary school to pull the lever.
Now, for the bad news.
That I went home to vote, reminded my mother that today was election day. That revelation then triggered twenty minutes of a "I'm voting for Bloomberg song," the lyrics of which I think go something like "I'm voting for Bloomberg, I'm voting for Bloomberg, I'm voting for Bloomberg and not for Freddy Ferrer."
So there you have it, net: zero.
Good luck.
UPDATE: Ferrer Campaign motto: Death with Dignity
Oy. But on the upside, I got three out of four proposal votes right.
Monday, November 07, 2005
FERRER '05
Nobody's voting for him. Bloomberg's totally gonna win in a landslide, so why not throw a little pity vote Ferrer's way?
C'mon.
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Saturday, November 05, 2005
BACK TO FULL BLOGGING CAPACITY TOMORROW
Until then: Iocaste, Iocaste, Iocaste.
Two great tastes that go great together...hahahahahahahaha
Until then: Iocaste, Iocaste, Iocaste.
Two great tastes that go great together...hahahahahahahaha
Thursday, November 03, 2005
YAH...WELL, WE KNOW IT WASN'T WRITTEN BY DEMERS
Former Stanley cup winning hockey coach says he's illiterate.
"The other thing I wanted to say was that if I could not write or read, it was because I had so much of a problem with anxiety because of the things going on in the family. I couldn't go to sleep at night. I'd go to school and I couldn't learn anything."
The book, which was released Wednesday, was written by Canadian journalist Mario Leclerc.
Hockey? I so would expect this from a football or basketball coach...what with all the little drawings they use for everything.
Former Stanley cup winning hockey coach says he's illiterate.
"The other thing I wanted to say was that if I could not write or read, it was because I had so much of a problem with anxiety because of the things going on in the family. I couldn't go to sleep at night. I'd go to school and I couldn't learn anything."
The book, which was released Wednesday, was written by Canadian journalist Mario Leclerc.
Hockey? I so would expect this from a football or basketball coach...what with all the little drawings they use for everything.
YEP, STILL HERE
See title.
Funny story about guy and complaining about a woman coming when ability sentences write to returns.
See title.
Funny story about guy and complaining about a woman coming when ability sentences write to returns.
OBVIOUSLY THE WRITER DOESN'T FOLLOW BASEBALL
Should Mr. Forrester become the first Republican to win statewide office in New Jersey since 1997, he will face a fiscal mess and a hostile Democratic Legislature influenced by a handful of powerbrokers he has attacked throughout the campaign.
How is "since 1997," a noteworthy record?
Dude. 1918.
Look it up.
Should Mr. Forrester become the first Republican to win statewide office in New Jersey since 1997, he will face a fiscal mess and a hostile Democratic Legislature influenced by a handful of powerbrokers he has attacked throughout the campaign.
How is "since 1997," a noteworthy record?
Dude. 1918.
Look it up.
SLEEP
You know what sucks about sleep?
Your eyes are closed: hello? Two words: NINJA ASSASINS.
Your eyes are all closed, how you gonna see 'em coming?
You're not.
Well, unless you're one of those weirdos who sleeps with their eyes partially open -- then you'll see the ninjas. But, people watching you sleep are freaked the hell out by you, so that's another negative right there.
Nightmares. Who needs that?
Dreams. These might just be worse than the nightmares. There you are, all happily collecting your huge lotto check and giving your press conference about how you plan to help people, even though you're really just gonna cash it and go to Canyon Ranch for two months... and then suddenly, it's sunlight and drool's all over your face and you've got less than an hour to be showered, dressed and breakfasted before getting to the office.
Oh, speaking of which: that whole "getting ready" stuff -- see, without sleep, you'd already be ready and sitting at your desk in your office with no risk of being late.
NOPE.
NONE.
ON TIME YOU'D BE.
And when you're sleeping it's like, that's all you're doing. In this day and age, we should all be doing at least three things at once.
Sleep also sucks cause you miss the sunrise all the time. And maan, let me tell you, sunrise.
Well, sunrise just plum rules.
So, I'll have all you lying people who claim that they wake up at four a.m., yet there is no evidence of their being up a full three and a quarter hours after that, know that I actually feel sorry for you.
That's right. All you people who went to sleep yesterfay, you're a right pitiable lot you are.
You'll miss out on all the fun of saying "I finished that yesterday, well, today. what time is it again?"
As the great "The Game" says -- "sleep is akin to your last breath."
Nosireee, not sleeping, that's the way I likes it. No death for me.
I've already put in a full workday before noon.
Which of course brings us to the very worse thing about sleep: when you're sleeping, you're not billing!
You know what sucks about sleep?
Your eyes are closed: hello? Two words: NINJA ASSASINS.
Your eyes are all closed, how you gonna see 'em coming?
You're not.
Well, unless you're one of those weirdos who sleeps with their eyes partially open -- then you'll see the ninjas. But, people watching you sleep are freaked the hell out by you, so that's another negative right there.
Nightmares. Who needs that?
Dreams. These might just be worse than the nightmares. There you are, all happily collecting your huge lotto check and giving your press conference about how you plan to help people, even though you're really just gonna cash it and go to Canyon Ranch for two months... and then suddenly, it's sunlight and drool's all over your face and you've got less than an hour to be showered, dressed and breakfasted before getting to the office.
Oh, speaking of which: that whole "getting ready" stuff -- see, without sleep, you'd already be ready and sitting at your desk in your office with no risk of being late.
NOPE.
NONE.
ON TIME YOU'D BE.
And when you're sleeping it's like, that's all you're doing. In this day and age, we should all be doing at least three things at once.
Sleep also sucks cause you miss the sunrise all the time. And maan, let me tell you, sunrise.
Well, sunrise just plum rules.
So, I'll have all you lying people who claim that they wake up at four a.m., yet there is no evidence of their being up a full three and a quarter hours after that, know that I actually feel sorry for you.
That's right. All you people who went to sleep yesterfay, you're a right pitiable lot you are.
You'll miss out on all the fun of saying "I finished that yesterday, well, today. what time is it again?"
As the great "The Game" says -- "sleep is akin to your last breath."
Nosireee, not sleeping, that's the way I likes it. No death for me.
I've already put in a full workday before noon.
Which of course brings us to the very worse thing about sleep: when you're sleeping, you're not billing!
DOUBLE CLICK YOUR MOUSE...
If you're at work.
I mean still at work.
Break over, gotta email my finished product before it gets late enough that the partner just thinks I came in early.
And yes, this is merely a shameless plea for sympathetic comments. Something from NYC Smurfette about "working my life away" would be clutch.
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
IS IT JUST ME...
Check out the answer to question number 6...doesn't that answer seem kinda fishy...like if you click on it three times it'll change into "ok, here's what you do, bring Fluffy around back and ask for Pablo. Bring cash."
Umm...Dawn, why are you checking our crematoriums on the same day you've noted the lack of black female serial killers?
mmmiunnno.
OHHHHHHHHH SNAP
Judge 'so's your faces' dead boy's mother.
Melinda Williams, the mother of the three boys, had been released from jail and was living in New York when Faheem's body was found. In court Wednesday, she complained that Wesley Murphy's sentence was too light, prompting a rebuke from the judge.
"You are not blameless. You are the parent. Look in the mirror," Casale said.
Burn.
Judge 'so's your faces' dead boy's mother.
Melinda Williams, the mother of the three boys, had been released from jail and was living in New York when Faheem's body was found. In court Wednesday, she complained that Wesley Murphy's sentence was too light, prompting a rebuke from the judge.
"You are not blameless. You are the parent. Look in the mirror," Casale said.
Burn.
ACTOR WHO PLAYED MURROW IS A MORON
Took up smoking for his role as the newscaster who died at 57 of LUNG CANCER.
Puffing away was part of the job for David Strathairn, who smoked up to 50 cigarettes a day for his role as Edward R. Murrow in George Clooney's "Good Night, and Good Luck."
In the film, the legendary TV journalist is often shown smoking -- even while on the air -- during his battle with Sen. Joseph McCarthy. (Murrow developed lung cancer and died in 1965 at age 57.)
PLEASE, YOUR HONORS, I HAVE THREE WIVES TO SUPPORT
Polygamist judge fights to keep job on the bench.
Utah's so wacky.
Polygamist judge fights to keep job on the bench.
Utah's so wacky.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
DUDE.
DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE.
Why are we making it easier for them to communicate their plans to kill their masters and take over the world?
THE POLITICS OF RACISM
Probably one of the lowest points of my political life was canvassing in Arizona last year for John Kerry. I was standing at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the door of the last registered Democrat on our hit list. The occupant was an African-American woman. She answered the door holding her son and proceeded to tell pearatty, who lost the stair climbing coin toss, that she wasn’t voting for Kerry.
Tired and fairly confident that Bush was taking Arizona, I started to walk back to our car.
Pearatty was not to be deterred. She started through our checklist of Kerry points, so I made my way slowly back up the stairs.
As I hit the top stair, I heard her accede to pearatty’s pitch.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Bush is bad…but I don’t want no gays getting married. I don’t support that.”
I can tell you that light has nothing…NOTHING…on the speed with which we proceeded to explain that Kerry didn’t want no gays getting married either.
And, forgive me, it has been a year, but I believe the exact sentence out of my mouth was:
“Bush doesn’t want people to know that Kerry has the same position on gay marriage that he does.”
Sigh.
But that’s politics I suppose.
Get the vote, get the vote, get the vote.
Anyone who’s ever worked on a campaign is out there bobbing and weaving, spinning and singing and dancing for votes.
Some literally. (Turn the volume down before clicking.)
And we’ve all had that head hanging moment – (or at least that’s what I told myself as I vigourously washed away my winning ‘but he thinks the same as Bush’ argument that night.)
If you really believe your candidate is best, doing whatever it takes to get your guy in, is perfectly defensible.
“Clareified: trying to get our guy in since 2003.”
But even in that anything goes environment, there should be boundaries – no violence, no theft, no crime --- all around no making the baby Jesus cry.
Which is why last week’s Steve Gilliard versus everybody brouhaha was so surprising. He did a stupid, disgusting, idiotic thing by vandalizing the picture of Michael Steele – made even more bizarre by the fact that he’s black (don’t know why he thought his skin color would be some kind of shield there) and got called on it. I tried to link to the picture, but it's been taken down and changed to a more benign Steele surrounded with money (see? why couldn't you have gone with that imagery right from the get go? It makes the point much better.)
Sure, he’s not the first person to try to play on stereotypes of black people to bring down a political rival – Jesse Helms’ hands campaign or Bush's Willie Horton ads come to mind.
But the “once you’re in a hole, stop digging” axiom also comes to mind.
You can’t blame a black person for being offended by that picture, you can’t blame your sponsors for pulling ads --- what kind of shitty society would this be if people saw that picture and said nothing? Oh yeah.
If crap like that sambo spoof is received this way every time it’s injected into the political realm we’d never have ads intimating that voters shouldn’t vote for Mccain because he has a black-looking child or have people running pictures of JC Watts with an afro in order to suggest that he must be some kind of black radical.
And hey…who knows, maybe we’d even get to that crazy wacky promise land where a white guy having a black-looking kid or a black radical, could get elected.
I don’t mean to pick on Gillard. I don’t really read his site and I understand that he was pissed at Steele for not criticizing the Governor for belonging to an all white club. But the fact that there are people who still long for the days when the only black people in the public eye were wearing blackface or playing mammies is why those kind of clubs still thrive. Gillard painting that face on a black man that has made his name through the serious world of politics just validates that racist view, hurts his cause and hurts our nation.
There is a larger principle at stake here and maybe the good thing to come out of this episode is that both parties can get on the same page. These tactics will not stand.
Probably one of the lowest points of my political life was canvassing in Arizona last year for John Kerry. I was standing at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the door of the last registered Democrat on our hit list. The occupant was an African-American woman. She answered the door holding her son and proceeded to tell pearatty, who lost the stair climbing coin toss, that she wasn’t voting for Kerry.
Tired and fairly confident that Bush was taking Arizona, I started to walk back to our car.
Pearatty was not to be deterred. She started through our checklist of Kerry points, so I made my way slowly back up the stairs.
As I hit the top stair, I heard her accede to pearatty’s pitch.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Bush is bad…but I don’t want no gays getting married. I don’t support that.”
I can tell you that light has nothing…NOTHING…on the speed with which we proceeded to explain that Kerry didn’t want no gays getting married either.
And, forgive me, it has been a year, but I believe the exact sentence out of my mouth was:
“Bush doesn’t want people to know that Kerry has the same position on gay marriage that he does.”
Sigh.
But that’s politics I suppose.
Get the vote, get the vote, get the vote.
Anyone who’s ever worked on a campaign is out there bobbing and weaving, spinning and singing and dancing for votes.
Some literally. (Turn the volume down before clicking.)
And we’ve all had that head hanging moment – (or at least that’s what I told myself as I vigourously washed away my winning ‘but he thinks the same as Bush’ argument that night.)
If you really believe your candidate is best, doing whatever it takes to get your guy in, is perfectly defensible.
“Clareified: trying to get our guy in since 2003.”
But even in that anything goes environment, there should be boundaries – no violence, no theft, no crime --- all around no making the baby Jesus cry.
Which is why last week’s Steve Gilliard versus everybody brouhaha was so surprising. He did a stupid, disgusting, idiotic thing by vandalizing the picture of Michael Steele – made even more bizarre by the fact that he’s black (don’t know why he thought his skin color would be some kind of shield there) and got called on it. I tried to link to the picture, but it's been taken down and changed to a more benign Steele surrounded with money (see? why couldn't you have gone with that imagery right from the get go? It makes the point much better.)
Sure, he’s not the first person to try to play on stereotypes of black people to bring down a political rival – Jesse Helms’ hands campaign or Bush's Willie Horton ads come to mind.
But the “once you’re in a hole, stop digging” axiom also comes to mind.
You can’t blame a black person for being offended by that picture, you can’t blame your sponsors for pulling ads --- what kind of shitty society would this be if people saw that picture and said nothing? Oh yeah.
If crap like that sambo spoof is received this way every time it’s injected into the political realm we’d never have ads intimating that voters shouldn’t vote for Mccain because he has a black-looking child or have people running pictures of JC Watts with an afro in order to suggest that he must be some kind of black radical.
And hey…who knows, maybe we’d even get to that crazy wacky promise land where a white guy having a black-looking kid or a black radical, could get elected.
I don’t mean to pick on Gillard. I don’t really read his site and I understand that he was pissed at Steele for not criticizing the Governor for belonging to an all white club. But the fact that there are people who still long for the days when the only black people in the public eye were wearing blackface or playing mammies is why those kind of clubs still thrive. Gillard painting that face on a black man that has made his name through the serious world of politics just validates that racist view, hurts his cause and hurts our nation.
There is a larger principle at stake here and maybe the good thing to come out of this episode is that both parties can get on the same page. These tactics will not stand.
