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Redneck Hoo-ha

This blog all started with a simple story. A story about a man in his never-ending quest to save all the kind women of the world. See what it got him? That's right, distracted and writing about, well, anything he can wrap his head around. All content theoretically copyrighted, so send me money.

Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Don't Know Where They Come From Sometimes



I've been writing a ton of lyrics lately. Haven't been this productive since before I met the most recent ex. Not claiming they're all good and sometimes I have no idea how they're going to come out of the pen until they do. Here is a tiny clip from my latest work:

Shattered pictures paint the floor
The empty bottle lies to me, begging for more
A thousand pieces of me stare me down
The room starts spinning though I'm holding my ground

The label reads my name one last time
The hollow sound, as it falls, speaks my crime
Shallow water calls to me, comforting
Darkness rains down in silence she brings

Of course, they can't all be as "happy" as my crowd favorite "Men Are Assholes", but that's to be expected I suppose.

It's an interesting exercise, writing lyrics. It is definitely something that improves over time, for those who are just starting out. This is not to say mine are great, but what I have here is a HUGE improvement over the absolute CRAP I was writing 5 years ago. Time was, I could only write semi-decent lyrics when I was sad, angry, or upset because when happy, all I wrote was the sap-happy-crappy garbage you hear in ever trashy, overdone, cliche'd love song on the radio today. I believe they might actually use Mad Libs to write some of those songs... probably something like:

I miss you so much, _________(name or endearing term)
I can't _______(verb) since you've been gone
My soul is so ________ (adjective) when you're far away
I know our love it can't be wrong

I mean, let's be honest. You could probably copy a bunch of lyrics from 10 different love songs and just paste 'em together to make another - might even end up with some other song that's already been published and cranked out of the crap-happy LA music machine.

But that's just my opinion.

And though I'm less often wrong than Dennis "I'm a non-funny Conservative Dork Now" Miller, it still happens from time to time. (yeah, no sarcasm there)
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Tuesday, August 30, 2005


Just a few Questions

Here are a few questions I find myself asking... myself, sometimes. Yes, I know that this is one of "the signs"... but have no fear, the "voices" are not speaking to me yet... well, at least not in a language I understand just yet... but I'm working on it.

  • So is it just me or do some people just suck?
  • Shouldn't they require an IQ and personality test for people to breed?
  • Why does the bank charge me money for... not having money in the bank? Am I supposed to just make it appear like Lucky Charms?
  • Why isn't deodorant one of the requirements for employment?
  • Why CAN'T I just smack the crap out of an idiot that "needs it" ?
  • Since when did time out actually work? And who came up with that crap anyway?
  • What's so wrong with me having long hair? I mean, the Vikings of old had braids, Sampson's strength came from his hair...
  • Why is it that, because of said long hair, I have to be given guilt from a hundred people every week about not cutting it all off and giving it to "Locks of Love" ? You know, if I were a kid with cancer? I'd much rather someone worry about CURING ME than giving me hair. Can we have some priorities here? Please?
  • I was told I'm still "pissed at God" for things in the past... is this true?
  • Is there a "God" in any form of the traditional sense?
  • Why is that if I don't need something, it keeps popping up and getting in the way... but if I then need that thing, it hides for at least an extra week? Is it ticked off at me for ignoring it all the other times?
  • Are my songs really any good?
  • Why in the hell did that a$$hole cut in front of... and THEN slow down?
  • Is there a minute universe held within the confines of a subatomic particle?
  • Did I actually lock the car doors? (This forces me to go back and check, just to make sure. Victim of a few too many auto related thefts)
  • Why does "sense of humor" mean "looks like Brad Pitt" to women?
  • Does my ass look fat in these pants? (okay, maybe I don't ask this one...)
  • Am I the only NON-telepath here? Is everyone else reading my mind? That would certainly explain some of the looks I get sometimes.
  • Where the hell are my keys?
  • Does anyone actually read this blog?
  • I wonder if I could start a career in writing...?
  • What up wit ebonics, yo? Wasrong wit English?
  • Man... she's checking me out... or do I have a booger hangin out my nose?
  • Are those real? Nah..
  • Can I just help "thin the herd" and pick off just a few idiots? Please? The gene pool is getting a bit cloudy and shallow here...
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Monday, August 29, 2005

Stuff I Done Heard This Weekend...


While in recovery, I heard these tales (and more to come):


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Rudeness and Stupidity - a bad combination .
the scene - a club/bar with a deck that overlooks a scenic river

A - Man, she has got some great lookin lips. They're real DSL's, man. I bet they could suck a...
B - Umm, dude. You're talkin about my wife there

A - Oh, sorry man.
...
A - But she's got some real DSL's, dude. I bet she..
B - Listen, man, you are really crossing the line here. You are really disrespecting me AND my wife and I suggest you shut the hell up.

A - Oh, right... right, sorry man...
..
A - but she's got some great DSL's

B picks up A and throws him right off the deck into the river

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. Women get beer goggles too .
the scene - a dance club where ladies, get this, get in free AND drink free... what a combo

W - It's my birthday and I want to try a three-way
H - Well, okay (trying not to sound too pleased at the prospect)
W - okay, let's go and pick someone

W goes and lays on the liquid courage... goes dancing
... on the tables...
... get HAMMERED...
... semi-topless...
... goes off into the restroom...
... for some 20 minutes ...
... and is carried out...

... she had 7 different ladies' numbers in her pocket now ...

Drunk W - Honey, I picked up a girl I want to bring home and share...
H - Really, where is she?

Drunk W points towards the bar

H - I can't see her... where is she?

Drunk W points again

H - What? You mean behind that big blonde samoan-looking dude?
W - No, that's her
H - You mean the big scary-looking one? That's a her?
W - Honey... isn't she pretty?
H - Umm, no.
... he immediately carried her drunk ass out of there...
... and carried her THREE blocks to their car...

of course, this was followed by a futile attempt at the wife opening the car window... followed by a whole lot of technicolor yawning and powerchucking...

On the plus side, the guy at the Car Wash got a $50 tip to clean out the car... poor guy.
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I'M BACK!!

Sorry, peoples.. I got sick Friday... actually Thursday night, but it carried over well into Friday. And then I spent the weekend trying to get the band back together so we could go on a Mission from God.

Well, it sounded like a good idea at the time. More to come... plenty o redneck tales and quotes from the weekend....

Thursday, August 25, 2005

So... What's this HNT HooHa All About?



Since we're all out here writing our own and reading each other's thoughts (rants, complaints, whatever), I thought this shot would be a good idea... now you at least know where all of my wordy ramblings come from. Besides, I felt so left out of the whole HNT (half-nekkid Thursday) thing - click here for details.

I JUST WANT TO BE PART OF THE "IN" CROWD!!

I'm back now... and I'm okay... well, on second thought, looking at that pic.. damn, this shot makes me look like I'm bald. What do you think? Balled? Yes. Bald. Not quite. Can't really tell either from the pic, eh?

And I'm not this blurry in person. No, really... I swear. I'm not as think as you stoned I am. I might see you this way, for reasons best left undisclosed, but better living through chemistry isn't for everyone... where am I?
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Wednesday, August 24, 2005

What is up with me and phones this week?



How do you like my new car phone?


I had to go scrape up a temporary replacement for my trusty old cell phone last night after it "bit the shed". This new one gets good signal all the time but the volume control straight up sucks... and I can never hear the people on the other end of the line...

But HEY, I'm CONNECTED ONCE AGAIN!!

See, I had just gotten home from playing out at Open Mike night. It was a great "show", if you could call it that. Played with pieces of another band as well as this singer/songwriter who has been recorded and published nationally. We actually had some great conversation regarding music and had come to the most excellent conclusion that our musical tastes and aspirations lay along the same bent and, hey, could we take the dive and start forming a band and start recording and performing live? Yeah, I was giddier than a teenage girl at a Coldplay concert. I wet my knickers... okay, maybe that's not entirely true.

But, that was my whole intention of getting into the whole Open Mike thing in the first place - to try to get a band together.

Why? I'll be the first to admit being what is known as a "crowd whore"... I suppose this is a modern-day equivalent of a "glory hound" but really, it's the same thing. Crowds getting off on your tunage is a major rush... not better than MOST sex (or recoil, for those gun-toting individuals), but cheaper and better than Michoacan... not that I would PERSONALLY know... oh no, not at all. (Let's take a look at those facts - musician with long hair experiment with drugs? Never.)

So. I get home. I decide to call my "executive assistant" and one of my very best friends, L***, who knows all about my tiny little "dream" of a band to bask in the good news with her.. no sooner did I dial the number... the screen goes blank. Do what?

Power switch.... nothing.

Dead battery? Plug in the wall charger... still nothing.

Whack it a few times. Nope.

A few more times.. REALLY HARD. Nothing.

Crap. (That banging on the electronics equipment thing is the last resort of the technically minded, of course...)

Well, how many cell phone users out there have suddenly suffered through a disconnect of this sort through no reason of their own? This means, you weren't expecting it for such reasons as
  1. not paying the bill, duh
  2. washing your cell phone in your jeans
  3. loaning your cell phone to a near klepto
  4. throwing your cell phone across the parking lot cause you got ticked off at the significant-(ly annoying) other
Etc. Well, for those of you in the "I suddenly got dis-umbilicalled from the world" club, I hear your pain.

First there is frustration. Then the fear that you may be missing some important phone call - although, like me, you probably later realized that, honestly, how many of these phone calls are actually all THAT important? I mean, really? And for most of those, did you really WANT to answer that call?

After this, denial. SURELY my phone did NOT break on me. A few more futile stabs at the power button does prove me wrong, again... and again... and again. Okay, so I'm stubborn.

So I had to use *gasp* someone else's cell phone, with all their cell phone cooties all over it, to call around and secure another phone for use while I consider what steps to take next.

Lucky for me, my sis-in-law had an old Nokia I could make use of. Yeah, that's it. Lucky. I mean... it does the job. It can dial out. It can receive calls. It has 12 whole different ring tones and a bright MULTICOLOR screen.

Okay, so it's MULTI-color if you consider blue and black being "multi". But, hey, it works, right?

Yeah, I was on ebay 20 minutes after I got this phone up and running to find another phone like my old phone. Of course, denial must still be in effect - been so all day... I keep checking it every once in a while just to make ABSOLUTELY sure that it isn't the battery... or perhaps I didn't press hard enough... or maybe I just need to disassemble the cover and put it back on again. Or how about a few more whacks? Another? And another?

Dammit. I lost the ebay auction too....

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Verizon. All part of the conspiracy of suck

So, you got a phone line? Have you got Verizon? I do... well, SORT OF.


New Verizon Phone Technology Coming Soon!!

See, it all started out with a simple online check to see if I could get DSL installed at my house. I was originally going to use Cavalier Telephone for both land-line and DSL - because Comcast is the child of Satan Incarnate, and I refuse to give them one thin dime if I can somehow help it. With Cavalier here, you could really save a buck or two so long as you're willing to deal with a WHOLE LOT OF TECHNICAL SUPPORT SUCKTITUDE. Being of a solid technical background, I wasn't scared of Cavalier...

BUT,
and it's a big but,
I really should learn that fear thing... you see,
I have had to go through it once with them in a previous residence, and that, dear friends was a MISTAKE. Hey, sure I saved 10 bucks a month between DSL and telephone. Sure. But it took me SIX (as in more than three, four, or five) WEEKS of telephone calls to an ever and overly busy tech support line to finally convince them that they, God Forbid!, screwed up and I really DID NOT have DSL service. Sure, I eventually got the satisfaction of being right... yeah, 6 weeks later.

Of course, they finally activated my line for DSL, right? So you think this story is done right? Nope. They didn't bother to create an account for me to log in with, so... I couldn't log on. Of course, that only took me a mere TWO weeks to fix. And, hey, when they found out then that I had no email accounts or mailboxes set up... and didn't even have the rights to set one up, they surprised the crap out of me with their quick fix that only took another EIGHT days! Wow. Awesome response time.

So, I went to Cavalier's website ANYWAY... and they do allow you to check your phone line to see if it is DSL capable by simply entering your phone number.

Okay, sure, why not... it says so, right?

One small problem.

I had no phone line at all. I guess they don't want pesky new customers to get DSL service - must think we're not keen enough on the new technology to deserve it, I guess... Of course, Verizon has almost the same problem but they at least let you enter a mailing address. Gee, whodathunk it could have been so easy?

So, after all this, it was a "toss-up" and I chose Verizon this time, counting on their technical superiority to win the day. Good plan, yeah?

So much for that brilliant idea.

End result? I now have a house with TWO different telephone lines running to it... the technician knows where ONE of them is because he just ran it up over the fence up to the telephone line, all nice and dangly - VERY aesthetically pleasing to the eye... (I mentioned the whole "sarcasm" thing with me, right?) There is another phone line, by the way, buried in some mystery location somewhere in my yard. He claims the previous tech must have "cut the line" when he switched the previous home-owners line to a new house next door...

Wha-wha-WHAT?

But, hey, it only took then TWO weeks to get my phone line... ummm... "working"... right?

So I have a phone line... sorta... and then I'll get DSL (bite me, COMCAST) eventually MAYBE - you have to have a land-line in place for a few weeks before they test it out for you... Hmm... I think that permanent land-line (to replace the fine telephone vineyard look) will get installed some time before September... add a few more weeks...

And HEY, I might have email at home by October!

So... what was I saying about Comcast and sucktitude???
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Saturday, August 20, 2005

Part 6: The Continuing Left Turn into Redneck Hell


(redneck door bell - warning, press gently)

WARNING - this blog entry has cussing, drunkenness, redneck activity, some unfortunate nudity, and, oh, more cussing.

Yes, I can hardly believe it myself - I am writing Part 6. Actually, I wouldn't be doing this right now had it not been for the family meal at Maggiano's. If you've ever been there and done the "family meal" then you know of what I speak. I was absolutely stuffed and had to stop at the office to pick up some things I had left behind... and *WHAM* ... carb bomb. So naturally, I decided to zone in on the office network and get some blogging time in. (Sad, yes?)

You know, at some point I will actually get around to cataloguing all the content in this site so it is a bit easier for the rest of you to digest. For now, here are the links to the story in question, to help prevent you having to go hunt and peck all day (and night - I'm a wordy bastage) long to read up on where our intrepid "hero", that being me, was last seen...

If you need a refresher, here are links to previous entries in this story:

Part 1 - Sometimes it doesn't pay to be a nice guy
Part 2 - What do you call a redneck with an actual working car...
Part 3 - Abandon All Hope, All Ye Who Enter
Part 4 - Redneck Drama, Tarantino Style
Part 5 - Left Turn Into Hell

.. so we came bolting around the corner where Redneck #1 (RN-1) decided to intercept us and try to guide us out the door. From upstairs came the sounds so typical of redneck drama - screaming, yelling, some thumps of things hitting the wall, and the words "assh0le" and "stupid b#tch" , naturally. As S**** and I attempted to press past him, down the steps came a crying Drunk Girl, followed closely by her beer-bellied, shirtless mate. (Like I said, only the missing wifebeaters prevented it from being the "perfect redneck scene.")

Drunk Girl was, of course, screaming obscenities at him and between each cuss word she tried to talk sweetly up the steps to her teenage daughter, to coax her into coming with her. At this time, FlubberHubby split time between yelling at her, looking me up and down to size me up as far as a threat goes, and trying to scope a look at S*** (who happens to have a nice figure). No, really, he was. Kinda figures, doesn't it?
I considered the situation and pulled out my cell phone in case police activity was required at which point he yelled at me, "Go ahead and call the cops. She hit me."

Exqueeze me?

Let's just put it this way - she might have been about 140 pounds soaking wet... and drunk. He had AT LEAST 100 pounds on her and wasn't entirely drunk. And he wants to press charges against her? Talk about a pissant waste of male-ness.

Well, the scuffling/shouting mess carried out into the yard. We followed, of course, partly out of concern for her and, yes, partly out of the same morbid curiosity all humans have for stupid drama

It's the exact same stupidity that causes traffic to slow to an annoying crawl just because a cop has someone pulled over on the side of the road - anyone who drive I-95 near Washington DC knows this all too well - the same foolishness that makes us all rubberneck at accident scenes, trying to pick out the body in all the wreckage. Hey, Faces of Death got popular cause of it... ditto for the evening (so-called) "news".

So, S**** and I remained on the scene in order to assist if things got a bit less civil. True, they couldn't get much worse but he had not, at this point, gotten physical with her, at least not from what we saw. I actually began to wonder if the loud thumping upstairs was from him OR from her... how can you tell with drunk rednecks anyway? Only on video do you have proof - can't never believe them there rednecks whence they getsta start tellin' ya a story...

(Lack of video notwithstanding, the story continues...)

Drunkie then insisted on getting some of her things before leaving and once she grabbed a few items she tried once again to talk her daughter into coming with her. Her daughter refused... and at this point, I could hardly blame her. She was basically a screaming drunk lunatic at this point.... and I was way past regretting having gotten involved at all. We've all seen someone like this, haven't we? If not in person, then on some television show with drunk people being arrested and people in uniforms, with hats, handcuffs, and badges.... I was, in fact, starting to see some morbid humor at every turn... I could even hear bits and pieces of the COPS theme song playing in my head...

*bad boys, what you gonna do...*

Where was I? Oh yes. FlubberHubby started to yell at Drunkie about leaving her 15-year old daughter at home all alone when she left the house. Now, for those not in the "KNOW", in the state of Virginia, it is legal to leave a child as young as 12 home alone and a 14 year old is allowed to babysit a child. I, being the smarty-pants-knowitall absolutely had to inform him of his ignorance of the law regarding this matter - hey, I was "just being helpful" as nice guys often are, right? He turned to me and said, "That's bullshit! I know the law. And what the hell are you? A lawyer?" Damn, was he TRYING to insult me or what? A lawyer? Damn.

Now, the first thought through my head was this - yeah, right... he "KNOWS" the law... probably the ones related to public drunkenness and public urination, possibly on your mailbox. Perhaps the ones for disorderly conduct and resisting arrest and likely also assault and battery from the fights he probably jumps into at first chance. Yeah, he probably "KNOWS" those laws "REAL" well. But I said instead...

"Nope. Not a lawyer. I just know about this part of the law. She only has to be 12 to be legally left alone, 14 to be a babysitter. You're wrong, dumbass." Yes, I HAD to add the dumbass part. Abso-f*ckin-lutely.

Of course, he didn't take too kindly to being called on his stupidity... or maybe it was the "DUMBASS" add-on. Who knew? In retrospect, what was I calling HIM a dumbass for? I was the one who let myself get pulled into this situation, wasnt I? On the other hand, I didn't marry Drunkie... and I didn't let my brother go out "whorin" and cheat on his wife (who, by the way, "had to stay at home to watch their TWO CHILDREN" - of course the sis-in-laws hubby, RN-1, could go out and play anytime he wanted to, right? I mean, he's a man afterall... at least, that's THEIR weak-ass reasoning behind the bullshit behavior); but I digress. So, instead of continuing with this line of "thought", he instead went and started to insult me instead, his loser of a brother behind him...

Did I mention that the reason why she had left the house was to see if her brother-in-law was cheating on his wife? And that she found him at the bar with his brother, her FlubberHubby, with some blonde chick all but humping him on a barstool? Did I mention that? Ahh, yes... oh, and did I mention the part where FlubberHubby basically took up for his brother and got all over her ass for "interfering" and that was why he told her he was leaving her? Oh, well, that's why she went out - her sister-in-law was all upset and crying earlier that night and knew he was cheating on her but didn't have proof so Drunkie went and found it... Hmmm... So anyway, FlubberHubby starts insulting me:

"What the hell do you know, you loser? Look at the way you dress. Probably don't even got no job, you fat f*ck." (Wow. I wish I could be so original. Fat f*ck. Loser. Damn. I gotta lurn me summa them great insultin' stuff, don't I?)

At this point, S*** and I were down below the "porch" (I use the term lightly) and FH and his RN-1 were standing up there attempting to be threatening. I was wearing some baggy carpenter jeans, a t-shirt, and a hawaiian shirt - very comfortable clothing and ALL COTTON cause I do like my comfort when I'm just relaxing... which I was until I got that fateful phone call which, at that point, seemed like such a long time ago...

"Umm, no, you don't know me. Wait a sec... do you own this house or rent? Oh, that's right. You RENT. What, bad credit rating? To many drunk in public arrests so you aren't allowed to BUY a house? (Drunk Girl did mention that) You punk ass, I OWN a house (which is true - I had just completed the purchase of a nice little house not 2 weeks prior to this incident... and yes, it has a Wop-cave).
And what's that? TWO cars in the driveway? Shit. I own SEVEN (which is true - see previous posting) and TWO motorcycles (actually 3.5 of them). And, you stupid redneck, you have no idea what I do for a living. I probably make more money than you and your asshole brother put together, which you seem so happy to be.
And do we REALLY wanna talk about who's a fat f*ck? You aren't exactly what I would call svelte."

In case you weren't aware, I am a programmer/analyst for a mid-sized software firm that deals with power utilities and government contracts. Not necessarily paid as well as others in my field, but I'm thinkin I make more than these 2 rednecks... mostly cause I think his brother was UNEMPLOYED. Wow, can you get more archetypical than THAT? An UNEMPLOYED Redneck Asshole? Wow. They make it too easy.

At this point, Drunk Girl comes out and wants to leave. Of course, she is still drunk so I take the keys from her and get in the "rash-causing Redneck special Mustang" to go. FlubberHubby hopped in the SUV and quickly blocked the driveway. No room to get out the normal, "polite" way due to a raised garden on the left and the house on the right, so I turned the car around and considered pulling the ultimate redneck maneuver and drive through the back yard and out around the other side of the house. This whole time, FlubberHubby was shouting that he was going to call the cops and claim that I was STEALING THE CAR.

Umm, does anyone know of the phrase "permissive use?" Umm, yeah, see that's when she gave me the keys and said I could drive the car and, it being hers, makes it legal for me to drive it. Of course, rednecks like to think they "KNOW" the law, as stated previously.

Unfortunately, Drunk Girl insisted that there was no way to get through the back cause the side was blocked off. Annoyed at the commentary from FlubberHubby, I was sorely tempted to make a go of it anyway and let the spinning wheel marked ruts in the backyard serve as a reminder to him of what happens when you insult a much smarter man... but as I went to pull off into the back, Drunk Girl opened the door and got out of the car. Oh well... no donuts for me.

However, Drunkie then decided to try to take the SUV, since it was registered in at least her name... this is about the time the cops got called...

Part 7 - a lesson in the law, coming soon to a blog near you

Friday, August 19, 2005

Do you see
Around the bend
Will that story
Ever End?
-- BurmaShave

Part 6, coming soon... to a blog near, well, here.











In the meantime, if you have to go, try My SweetPee yet another "gotta pee standing" product just for you and your girls (or your boys of uncertain preference... who have... issues).

This link brought to you by The Funky Bee, who has one of the finest looking ears in all of the North American continent. You know, she has an extra hole... ask her about it sometime!

I suppose it really is an honor to have an established blogger contribute ideas to your site - my Magic Cone entry must have really struck a chord out there with some people...

This weekend I will do my utmost to do as little as possible, having finally finished the project overload I have been suffering through for the past several weeks. I will play my guitar, have something to drink, sit on my deck (in pseudo-Redneck fashion) with an ice cold brew, crank up some tunes that Satan probably inspired (or was involved in via royalties), and generally do nothin... wait a second...

what the hell was that?

Aw crap. (*picks up phone*)

Family dinner at Maggiano's Saturday.

Well, hey, at least the food there is great.... you know, this could be a learning experience for all of them... I don't think they've ever seen me DRUNK? Hmmm....

*calculates expected lifespan if he embarrasses his mother in public... *

*estimate too small to print. ... ahh, yes, the survival instinct kicks in...*

ahh well... the Dragon Lady, as some of my friends like to call her, is actually a great mom... but that whole Japanese face, public thing... definitely "I will kill you" material, so discretion being the better part of valor, and survival being the whole reason behind discretion, well... I'll get drunk later, if it suits me to do so then.

And I promise, really, really, really, really, really promise, to work on Part 6 over the weekend, so all I will have to do come Sunday or Monday, is type it in and send it off into the E-world.

Have an awesome weekend all, drive safe, and watch out for us wopanese - we're dangerous at night.

Thursday, August 18, 2005

SURE. We got PLENTY iBooks Left


I was honestly going to work on Part 6 today but I had to write about THIS (click here.)
Just when I thought we Virginians had risen above the rigid Southern REDNECK image... some idiots have to go and prove me wrong... and right.

my favorite pic of it is in this story

and another good shot

here is another link


Of all the freakin reasons to make the CNN ticker, this is NOT one to have


Anyone else out there see how there was a 5500 person mob that went apeshite in Henrico County trying to score one of a 1000 4-year old iBook notebooks? There were 17 people injured, one baby stroller got crushed (the mother claims she just did get the baby out of it in the nick of time), there was at least one person who started a fistfight when someone jumped in front of them in line (although that was really silly - as soon as the gates opened, all pretense of a line went right out the door). Then there was the woman who pissed her own pants (she didn't have a magic cone) rather than lose her spot in line. And let's not forget the woman who had to have the EMT's show up for her, because she passed out not once, not TWICE, but THREE times from dehydration... and THEN she insisted on staying in the damn line. Now, talk about the inconsideration of this person. The EMT had to stay with her all damned day, waiting in line with her, because she refused to leave the line. I wonder if anyone died because of her selfishness? Hmm?

I just want to reassure you gentle readers out there in the world that we in Virginia are NOT all as bad as those 5500 idiots/wankers/jerk-offs that trampled the baby stroller and hurt 17 people. Really.

Or maybe we are.

Maybe you are too. Mobs just get STOOPID.

Damn it's really embarrassing to live in the South sometimes. See, there is already this overriding prejudice that claims that anyone from the South is, well, a bit slow/stupid/dumb. The accent sure doesn't help us any... the word y'all is no good... then there's Jeff Foxworthy and the Cable Guy adding to the pot. Damn.

It was bad enough that Forrest Gump lived in a Southern state.

And now we had to have 5500 Southern folk add to that stupid factor.

I need to move back out west. Somewhere nice and peaceful... iBook free...
But, hey, it has spurred up whole new businesses so I guess it is OKAY. Right?

Hey... you think they might have any of those iBooks left?....

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

Sometimes Mondays happen on Tuesday


I thought today was going to be a banner day at work. Really, I did. But this is basically how I ended up being treated - emasculated, shaved in an embarrassing fashion, and left in my cube to rot. Damn.

And it's TUESDAY.

On the plus side, at least I'm not this cat. I mean... look at him. Could you get any more pissed off? Could you feel any worse?

Well, when I have more time after hours, I'll regale with portions of my tale of woe... or maybe I'll actually get to Part 6... it has been so long that I think it has become something of a running joke... "Yeah, SUUUUURE you'll write part 6, Wop... Sure you will. You f$#@~&!! bastard you."

So, to prove I believe in democracy - all those in favor of me writing Part_6 for real and for true, post yon comment below...



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Monday, August 15, 2005

I got destroyed. My ego is broken

Yes, I did it to myself. I went and logged into blogexplosion and cocky lil' ole me entered into a Battle of the Blogs... I put my sad little, default screened, pictureless, overwordy, obnoxious little blog (the one you are reading) up against a mom-happy, picture-laden, "talk-about-my-kids" fest-o-blog... and I was defeated.

I was crushed, beaten, spanked, whooped, 'moked, destroyed. I got served, wiped off the slate, shown the door, walked the dog on.

Utterly.

Need I say more?

And it cost me 10 credits to have the soul sucked right out of me. Sweet. So much for my little dream of becoming a world famous blogger, whose site inspires the world by the millions and somehow lands me a publishing deal, a recording contract, and a studio offer for directing a movie of my own choosing. Oh well. I suppose a few pictures would improve the look of this blog... or perhaps something besides the dull green screen, yeah?

I suppose it would behoove me to spend a little more time on that whole "look and feel" thing of this site, rather than try to work so hard on, oh, I don't know, the content? Not that I've really worked hard on it. What you see here is mostly the 5 minute dribblings that stumble out of my head (and hands). I imagine that my defeat was well deserved.... but could I have at least lost to something besides a site that contained no less than 5 pictures of a toddler in a saggy/needed-to-be-changed diaper? Oh, the humiliation. The agony. The very humanity of it all.

Hmm... okay, secret ploy... I will be gathering photos of various young drooly things from across the web - children, puppies, kittens, invalids... doesn't matter what, so long as there is drooling involved... THEN, a big posting of pictures with all the "cute" drool shots... THEN, the next battle. Write some schmaltzy little entry like, "Oh, look what my cute wittle shnookums did today with his pet rhinocerous! Awwww" and just rake in the winnings... yeah... strike at prime time for mother blogging - I'm guessing noon-2 and 4-6.... of course, little will they know the TRUTH... cause they probably won't read this far into the BLOG, too busily cooing and cawing at the various drooly little pictures in my posts...

Feel free to forward any possible pictures to me for use in that "sure to win" posting, okay? The more drool, the better. Mothers love drooly baby things, so stick to the topic. I'll share all my ill-gotten booty and ill-booten gotty with you. Deal?

BAH! But I guess they should get to write what they want... I mean, after all, I get to.
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Sunday, August 14, 2005

Umm... Yeah, I'm half-Japanese

All I can say is... wow. Go here and click on the word... "instrument".

So, yeah, I'm HALF Japanese. This is not exactly what I would claim to be the height of Japanese creativity... still, for a people that still love (and invented) karaoke... umm, well, what can I really say?

Hey, let's not forget they had those really hardcore warrior poets known as the samuari... and that whole die-hard kamikaze pilot thing... and, damn, do I have to keep using the word "hard"? Crap.

Okay, next post I'll focus on the Italian side until the furor over this lil invention passes.

I mean, I guess I deserve it after making fun of the magic cone. Right? Guess that whole karmic "what goes around comes around" thing is really true.
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Saturday, August 13, 2005

Any Takers for a NEW Business Idea?

So there I was, wandering about the blogiverse when I came across Princess Steph's latest entry... wherein she regales us with a tale about Sephora and their products. For those not in "the know", Sephora is one of a seemingly endless list of various products that cater to the mystique of feminine hygiene... body washes, body rinses, soaps, skin cleansers, hair removal products, makeup, oh Lord, the list goes on and on...

And then it hit me.

Men have NO equivalent.

Now, I understand that men, for the most part, are too... MANLY to use the ridiculous multitudes of product there is out there... but I wonder... Yes, most men are content to simply rinse off the stink and the majority of scum and dirt and have at it. Some lesser men are willing to forego even that much, sure, but I'll give the benefit of the doubt and say that, besides a spray or slap on of some deodorant, men are good to go right out of their (hopefully minimum) once a day showers.

Of course, in my experience, there are those who obviously don't; BUT, stank-ass men who don't deserve to (and really shouldn't be allowed to) breed are not part of this particular discussion.

So, there must be a small segment of the male population that yearns for something more.. even at the expense of being ridiculed by their friends and fellows if they learn the truth... Here are a few ideas for possible products, JUST FOR MEN (not to infringe on a copyright, of course):
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Gojo Body Wash/Rinse - leaves you with that fine scent of having worked in the garage, wrenching on your muscle car. Sure to entice redneck chicks for miles around. Lemon scent optional.

Simple Green Body Polish - Cleans EVERYTHING and eliminates at least 1-2 layers of skin off the body. Just spray it on and rinse it off. This product will leave you nice and pink and will do it quick and easy, satisfying that on-the-go sense that men always seem to have when it comes time to get cleaned up.

Waffle House Moisturizer- Made from the finest leftover lard from that favorite of late night dining chains, this will give you men that healthy, reflective sheen... and breakfast-ready scent.

Quaker State/Pennzoil Hot Oil Treatment- l can see this would be a highly contested market niche. Still, wouldn't you like you hair to have a beautiful, friction-resistant glow while still having that manly Nascar scent? This would surely push Afrosheen right off the shelves.

Mother's / Meguiar's / Turtle Wax Tighty-whitey Hair Remover - The latest "in" thing with women is satiny smooth skin on their men. Hairy chests (and nether regions) are out. This product will get you back IN like Flynn.

Lava Exfoliant- This product is already on the market under the claimed guise as SOAP.... but it definitely does the trick, and if we call it an exfoliant, we could charge 5 times the price!
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And that's just off the top of my head... so, who's in with me? Feel free to send me your bids for becoming an investor - opportunity only knocks once, so let's go and answer that door while she's a bangin' away!!
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Friday, August 12, 2005

Things that make you go, "What the $#@)(% !!"

So this post isn't funny - just ranting a bit out of frustration...

So my good friend's son, Gothboy, just got busted for shoplifting at a major retail chain store. He and 2 other boys had packed away about 380 bucks worth of gear in a backpack, along with 2 knives in Gothboy's pocket. The in-store police watched them pocket the knives as well as stuff their other ill-(non)gotten booty into a backpack that the eldest boy (19), let's call him ExArmy, held.... now, because of the knives, they were taken down at gunpoint (isn't that exciting?).

So, ExArmy claimed he simply "needed some money" and talked GothBoy and 3rdBoy into going along. Gothboy's excuse? He "just wanted to help ExArmy out".

Now, what was that I said about the Death of Common Sense in America being one of my favorite reads?

While sitting handcuffed on the ground, the cops looked at 3rd Boy's shoes - they looked brand new. Under questioning he told them they were his - the store manager confirmed that they did not sell that brand of shoe in their store... of course, what does Goth Boy do at this point? Does he stay quiet and meek? Does he try to play nice with the cops? Does he try to be cooperative in hopes that it will help him at court?

Umm, nope. Definitely not. No, rather than basically try to help himself out, he instead pulls off one of his ratty goth-grunged shoes and asks the cop, "So, does this look new or what?"

Did I mention that whole dead common sense thing?

Naturally, to this all off, ExArmy had finally gotten a job and was starting this coming Tuesday. Duh. Guess that's not going to happen.

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Odd facts and whatnot


Many of these facts came from
this site... see what happens when you're bored and it's Friday?

China has more English speakers than the United States.
- Of course, I'm going to guess that's standardized broken english, as opposed to standard American english. Of course, we haven't been doing to well with our own language this century, either (prev posting).

The Mint once considered producing doughnut-shaped coins - mmmm... Donuts....

There are only 12 letters in the Hawaiian alphabet - That's still enough letters to spell Kamanawana'lei-a and Ai'wana'nuki'nuki. So I guess 12 is really enough, no?

The average cost of rehabilitating a seal after the Exxon Valdez oil spill in Alaska was $80,000. At a special ceremony, two of the most expensively saved animals were released back into the wild amid cheers and applause from onlookers. A minute later they were both eaten by a killer whale.
- Wow. Pretty pricey hors d'oeuvre for that orca, yeah? When later asked about it, the orca responded, "Yeah... I ate 'em... a bit on the greasy side... needs ketchup.."

Catnip can affect lions and tigers as well as house cats. It excites them because it contains a chemical that resembles an excretion of the dominant female's urine. - Yeah. Think about that the next time you get your cat high with da nip.

Howler monkeys are the noisiest land animals. Their calls can be heard over 2 miles away - sounds like one of my ex'es. At least, until she got mad... then it was worse.

A psychology student in New York rented out her spare room to a carpenter in order to nag him constantly and study his reactions. After weeks of needling, he snapped and beat her repeatedly with an axe leaving her mentally retarded - Well, at least they buried the hatchet... (okay, yeah, that was bad.) What did she do? Follow him around all week saying, "I'm not touching you... I'm not touching you..." Well, I think it was justifiable then... I wonder if he has to serve jail time for her absolute sheer stupidity? Hmmm...

A snail can sleep for 3 years - I'm jealous. I'm lucky if I can get 3 hours in a row... then again, maybe my lifestyle has something to do with that.... mmmm... nah.

When Heinz ketchup leaves the bottle, it travels at a rate of 25 miles per year. - Of course, on Sundays (or every day in Florida), elderly Sunday drivers can be seen going slower.... and usually they are ALL right in front of me. Every last one of 'em. Dammit.

Of course, part of me can't wait to retire so I can drive slow and piss off all the young whippersnappers out there. Especially the ones who drive "hoopdie cars" with 40 trillion watt stereos with 48-inch super uber-mega-subwoofers in their trunk, which make them vibrate so much that it is unsafe to drive behind them for fear of hitting the parts that are being shaken off ... but I digress.

One acre of hemp will produce as much paper as four acres of trees (and can be replaced next season). - and makes clothes and hats and has medicinal purposes... does everyone realize the real reason pot is still illegal (ahem, Georgia Pacific and kickbacks???) It's better paper, too - and we all know the Constitution and Declaration of Independence are on hemp paper, right? So, our nation was built on hemp... let's not forget that lil tidbit...


Okay, that's enough for today - I think maybe I'll try to get a few actual lines of code written before I go get some heavy drinki-, I mean thinking and contemplating done. I'll be back some time tomorrow to post more... and check on this guitar being auctioned on ebay (damn, does the collecting EVER stop? Nope.)
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Thursday, August 11, 2005

One Meme in the Stream

So, I received these questions from Raven as requested... here are my answers, followed by the rules, for those of you who care to know...:

1. You seem to like quite a diversity of music. If you had to only listen to one group/singer for the rest of your life, who would it be and why?

Hmm.. originally this would have been an easy one. I would have selected Phish, for the simple reason that they play a wide variety of styles, bluegrass to blues to funk to latin to simply fun bits (even a bit of "arena rock" in there) and they are very talented musicians. Unfortunately, as they have officially disbanded for now... I suppose I could get used listen to String Cheese Incident for the same reason. At least with either group, there be less chance for boredom via the broad spectrum of styles played, and the talent doesn't hurt either. (Dem boys can just flat out play)


2. After your experiences of being a "nice guy" have you reformed or are you still being nice?

You never really reform... you just do your best to control the impulse. It's a bit like an addiction, really. You can quit... but sometimes, the craving gets to be too much and you just give in. That's what happened with the "Drunk Girl" situation. Best I can say is that I can sometimes manage to hold the reins on it.... dammit. Sometimes. I need to start a 12-step group for nice guys...


3. You made a joke of of your favorite books...what are your real choices and why?

I have a list a mile long, but the dictionary (and thesaurus) does make some sense - I'm just a fan of good and creative use of the language (see recent post regarding "Abusive language").
But here is a SHORT list: Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series (at least, the first 6 books of it, the rest have been a bit less than imressive and lead me to wonder if they now actually have a team of ghost writers doing the work instead), Isaac Asimov's Foundation and Robots series, The Shannara series, The Inappropriately named Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy "trilogy", The Road (Kerouac), Howl (Ginsberg), Neuromancer, most anything by Philip K. Dick, Terry Goodkind's Sword of Truth series, the ENTIRE HP Lovecraft selection, Edgar Allen Poe's works, Shakespeare, Ursula K. LeGuin's Earthsea trilogy, The Dictionary of the Khazars, various works by Umberto Eco, David Edding's various works, The Death of Common Sense in America (a must read for everyone!).... there are others, but this is getting a bit large so I'll stop here.


4. What is your favorite weekend activity, when you aren't stuck at work?

That's a really tough one... a lot of it truly depends on my mood. Some days I just want to zone in front of the TV and watch movies on DVD (I don't watch much TV at all these days)... sometimes I want to go see the flix on the big screen. Other times I'll go game geek and play PS2 or computer games or head out to play some pinball. And then there are times when I want to be creative with music and I will work on some new material to play. And of course, there are times when my creative juices are flowing in the video direction and I will edit video and try to make some humorous shorts. Sometimes wrenching on the cars gives me great satisfaction. A ride on the motorcycle never hurts me... a ride in the convertible is a fair second, with the top down. And, of course, flirting with the ladies... that's always fun.


5. Were you born a redneck or are you a convert? Tell me about it.

I am not a redneck. I am not a redneck. This is the mantra I keep having to repeat each morning. Just cause I currently own something like 8 cars and 3.5 motorcycles does NOT mean I am a redneck. Just cause I stand out on the deck in the morning in my skivvies drinking coffee and havin a smoke does NOT mean I am a redneck.
I moved from Hawaii to Virginia at the tender age of 12. I had a really tough time with the language - saying "y'all" isn't as easy as it sounds - I avoided it for the better part of 3 years and then something inside just caved in.

Eventually, I started wearing flannel...

all the time...

... and then came the cars. (with links to pics of cars that aren't mine)

First it was just one, and then another, and then I just couldn't help myself from picking up all these "project cars (the link is just a sampling, not a sales ploy)". I am on the mend though. I once had 3 Camaros, 2 of which actually ran, 1 for parts only... and now I am back down to 1. I once had 12 cars and/or trucks - I am down to 8... and by next Spring I hope to have that number down to 6.
But some ask me, SIX CARS? Who the hell needs that many? Okay, tell you what. You tell me which one to get rid of: 1992 Camaro (but mine has a hood, really) - the first car I bought and paid for all on my own, has working AC, a great stereo, still looks pretty nice, runs great, albeit with not so great gas mileage. A 1970-and-a-half Pontiac Firebird (picture is close, but sans hoodscoop). Pretty in black. Needs some body work. Runs pretty well. Nice stance and it's NOT the Camaro everyone thinks it is. Plans for this one seem to be targetting it for the 1/4-mile strip (drag). 1991 Volvo 740 (with the heated seats!!) - no pic is needed, you've seen a million of 'em- it's the "soccer mom car". Runs fine, paid for, heated seats, great extra emergency car. 1994 Honda Del Sol (the pic is red, mine is black) - 32mpg city/hard driving, 40 mpg highway... need I say more? Besides, it's half a convertible... and that's better than no convertible at all... and it's fun watching people's expressions as I get out of it. 1984 Nissan 4x4 (mine is in better shape than this pic) - Need a parts truck and something for those 5 days a year we have snow. and the best one: a 1972 Cutlass 442 Convertible, (the link here is what I hope to achieve with mine), with an arrow straight body... very collectible. This is my best project car and when she's done, she's gonna be sweet. Really. Just can't let this one go...

Wait, I still haven't answered your question...

Umm, well, to me, a redneck is the type of person who will go out drinking, actively seeking to get drunk and definitely up for getting into some brawl of some sort. He doesn't care what you think and he'll certainly get in your face to let you know about it. He might have a bunch of cars and buy a house largely based on the size of its garage (which I did, in fact, do), and like to stand out half-dressed on his deck in the afternoons (which I also do, but hey, it's my house)... BUT, and it's a BIG but, rednecks don't get college educated. See, a redneck will say, in high school, "I'll be so damned glad to graduate so I won't never have to read another book again!" Me? I love books. So maybe you call me a pseudo-redneck? Maybe just a bit pink on the edges?


Damn I'm wordy... this is one meme amongst many


As per the rules:

1. If you want to participate, leave a comment saying "Interview me". ("Tickle me" or "Caress me" are not acceptable substitutes.) You must leave your blog address so that I can think of good questions for you.

2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different. I'll post the questions in the comments section of this post.

3. You will update your blog with the answers to my questions.

4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in your post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

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Wednesday, August 10, 2005

Rice Crackers

They're a tasty nutritious treat and basically the Asian, albeit healthier, equivalent of potato/corn chips in the USA. Now, I want to make absolutely clear that we are
NOT
talking about the tasteless,
puffed rice hockey pucks
that the Quackie Oats people have tried to pass off on people as an edible substance. Most certainly not. I am talking about the soy-saucy or salt-sweety goodness of arare (more or less pronounced "ah-rah-reh" - so sue me, I'm NOT a linguist so my phonetics suck donkey balls!) and osembe ("oh-sem-beh").

And this news just in, they have cracked the genetic code of RICE! Yes! And strangely enough, rice has about 37,000 genes in its DNA code. Humans, by way of comparison, are genetic simpletons - we only have somewhere in the neighborhood of 20-25,000 genes. So rice is much more complex than we are... go figure.

Good thing we're at the top of the food chain, yeah?

See here about Cracked Rice

So, borrowing from the last entry, for all you nips, slopes, chinks, gooks, yo-ho's, manung, wetbacks and spics too, we'll get more of that tasty stuff we all love so well! (And that includes my relatives in the Land of the Rising Sun!)

One more thing, this is not to be confused with Minute Rice. I have just discovered that:

Minute Rice is not actually rice at all.

Nope. It is, rather, the tiny particulate matter that most styrofoam product consists of - you may have seen a passel of it on the inside of a bean bag chair, the only difference being that the Minute Rice has been compressed in a trash compactor for packaging purposes and density. Please take care in the future when consuming Minute Rice - the swelling that may occur will cause severe gastronomic distress and create noxious fumes for hours on end. (This could be useful for anyone wishing to pull pranks, or fraternities who wish to carry off a (mostly) non-lethal form of non-hazing...)

And that's all the news that fit to print and eat for today.

okay, maybe it IS rice - we just don't claim it, being elitist racist bastard know-it-alls who threw the bell curve way out of whack when we went to school with you lesser beings of non-beige/yellow/olive skintone. ;)


Stay tuned - Part 6 will be coming SOON
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Tuesday, August 09, 2005

The Nature of Names, Intent vs. Content

So it's Tuesday. Damn.

I wish I had a useful topic to expound upon. Really. Ahh, here goes: if you are one of the politically correct anal-retentives out there, I warn you - you really should just quit reading and go elsewhere. What follows will surely insult someone out there. This is a racially tense entry, and some of you are sure to get offended by my furtherance of study into language and music... :)

So, with that disclaimer taken care of, what follows is a list of all the worst racial (and social) slurs I could think of/recall. This might be offensive to some, but I am really doing this as research for a song (No, REALLY), which I hope will end up being humorous, of course. Point being, some people are so picky and negative and quick to judge. I'm not one of them, obviously. Just look at my nickname - wopanese - that, my friends, could be considered a derogatory term... sure. But really, what is a name but a mode of address? Isn't it really the INTENT of the word that is most important? Some of the insulting names people have come up with are really creative and inventive, while being very insulting. So the intent here is humor and I need your help for more.

If, however, you are offended by this list and the fact that I have put it out here for others to read, then, well, you really don't get it, do you? The power in the word is not the words themselves - you have to give the words power - laugh at them and they become comical misrepresentations. People call me "Wop" all the time (Wopanese being too long for simple conversation, really - c'mon, it's THREE whole syllables and people can barely remember names with TWO.) So, laziness aside, they just call me "Wop". A label is just a label - peel it off if you don't like it - or stand up and be proud.

So, the list: (And if you can think of any others, really, I'd appreciate some feedback on this):

Wop, guido, guinea, dago, kike, spic, slopehead/slope, frog, kraut, pullstart, pushstart, dothead, camel jockey, honkey, sand nigger, cracker, white trash, redskin, punjab, spoolie, spook, ghost, redneck, porck monkey, spearchucker, jigaboo, wetback, riceball, chink, yo-ho, manung, polock, gook, mick, jerry, junglebunny, darky, colored, SA, beaner, nigger, tarbaby, dork, geek, nerd, spaz, dweeb, pointdexter, fag, lesbo, muffdiver, cocksmoker, queer, homo, queen, red, commie, yellow horde, slant-eye, wigger, wannabe, nips, JAPS, jap, canuck, coonass, oreo, fudgepacker, bonesmuggler, fairy, polesmoker, limey, WASP, haoli, NewYorican, PR's, PI's, dyke, dyke-jumper, flip, women in comfortable shoes.


Oh, I have to say this, though - seems there a lot of people who want to use the word "nigger" so badly that they have to rationalize it somehow, saying something weak like, "well, I don't mind black people, it's them niggers I don't like. You know, there are white niggers too." No, there aren't. That's like calling a Honda a Nissan. There are no white niggers. No, the people referred to are properly called white trash or rednecks or better yet, ASSHOLES. If you want to classify out of hand, please do it properly. It's like the weakest excuse ever to use the word "nigger" and try to not come off sounding like an asshole. Of course, I'm pretty sure that many of these people also say, "Some of my best friends are black." (see next paragraph) Remember, it's the INTENT that makes the word insulting.

As for me? I'm a Wop-Slope half-breed, made in Japan, and imported to the mainland via a stopover in Hawaii of several years. In politically correct terms, I am Meditterasian. Yes, I have a tattoo on the bottom of my foot that says, "Made in Japan", just like all the other Japanese kids and Japanese toys... And to be quite honest, yes, one of my very best (and longest) friends is, in fact, black - I was the "MAN OF HONOR" in her wedding party. And she was lookin good, too, in that dress... damn. But I digress...

Standard example of how it is okay - you see young people calling each other "nigger" (generally pronounced "niggah") all the time and they don't seem to take offense. I call my white friends cracker-ass-crackers (thanks Chris Rock) all the time and it's okay. So what is the problem? I suppose it's because people often assume the worst of these words.

Maybe it's just me - I don't let these words bother me, I take pride in my heritage. And if you cannot laugh at yourself and at your heritage while taking some pride in both, then you, my friend, are the one with the issue, not me.
Laughter is the key to world peace.
Really. It breaks all ice and all barriers...

But I could be wrong. Like I said... it's happened a time or two before. (Okay, spelling aside)

So, feel free to send me others in comments. It is my intent to make it funny. Really. Make it anonymous if you like.
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Sunday, August 07, 2005

Abusive Language

Here are some phrases and words that people oft get wrong. Yes, it annoys the elitest bastard crap out of me (and Pungo too... just assed him). I used to torture him by using every single one of these phrases 0n him at all the most improper opportunities.:

ASK - one would think this would be so simple to pronouce properly, right? Three whole letters... what could go wrong? Well, we have the ebonics AXE which seems like such a rude way to phrase a question. Unfortunately, it seems to go hand in hand with rude at times. Of course, someone I know also pronounces it as ASSED which is really humorous at times, a la Ace Ventura and needing a breath mint. At least this person is consistent - they also pronounce 'desk' as DEST. There is something to be said for consistency.

To Kill For - As in, "that dessert was To Kill For". People, the proper phrase is To Die For. The whole point being that whatever the topic of the phrase is referring to is so awesome, so jaw-droppingly good, that it would be worth dying for in order to have. Duh.

Library - I have to assume that not everyone knows there are actually two R's in this word. Libary. As in LIE-BERRY. Is that some new kind of fruit? BAH!! I think people who can't pronounce this word need to go to the language reference desk in the Libary and go learn the language. On a side note, I actually discovered that, ironically, one of the variants of the common BLACKBERRY is called the MARIONBERRY. I didn't actually have time to read up on it, as yet, but I have to wonder if this is what happens when you fertilize a blackberry with crack cocaine...?

I Can't Fathom - I had to do a double-take when I heard this one go wrong as, "I can't Phantom." Wha? Is this person afraid of ghosts and spectres to the point of using them as an excuse for not understanding something? I can't phantom how they pulled this one off with a straight face.

Adamant - I've heard this one pronounced Abdament recently. I had to wonder, does this person have abs of steel? Their gut tell them to do such and such with iron force? What the...?

Could have, Should have, Would have - That HAVE is a whole word. And it is NOT the word OF. You wanna write it so it sounds like "w/sh/could of" then you need to use the contractions.

Would've. Could've. Should've.

How about these sample sentences:
Well, you could've done better in English, but you didn't. Maybe you should've studied grammar and punctuation more, Johnny. Then you would've, perhaps, graduated from middle school before you started getting 5 o'clock shadow every day.

Populate, emulate - I list these as a pair because the same bad southern pronunciation was used for BOTH of these words, and any others of similar nature. Populate became POP-UH-LATE, and emulate was EM-UH-LATE. Does POP-UH-LATE mean the item was destined for expansion followed by destruction at some future time? EM-UH-LATE sounded far more like IMMOLATE, which means basically to engulf in flames... well, made me wanna, I tell ya.

REGARDLESS - Ever have someone tell you that IRREGARDLESS is a word because they found it in the dictionary? Well, sure it's a word... then again, so is "Googoogaga" but you don't see anyone past age 4 using that either, do you? (With the exception of adults cooing at a baby, and that's only forgivable if you don't actually HAVE to listen to them) And what is the point of adding an extra "IR" to the front of the word? It doesn't change the intended meaning these poor saps apply to it. It's kinda like adding a huge wing or a "fart can" exhaust pipe on the back of your Honda Civic - doesn't do SQUAT for you - they just think it looks/sounds cool, I guess. (but hoopdie cars are ANOTHER topic entirely - I'll go there some other time) I think the word they really want to use is IRRESPECTIVE. That's a perfectly good word and it's not used often enough. Try it out - impress your friends with some PROPER language skills for once. Damn.

For All Intents and Purposes - Ahh... another choice item. People say it so quickly that it comes out as For All Intensive Purposes, right? Well, unless you work in a hospital, you're probably saying it wrong. I mean, what the hell would that mean, anyway? That what you are introducing to the conversation is only for use in life-threatening or extreme circumstances? What you say is likely really not that important, you know? So get off your high horse, you self-important squib.


Well, there are plenty more, to be sure, but I'll leave those for you to throw back at my face, if you wish. I simply had to clarify my use of the word "IRREGARDLESS" on a comment I posted somewhere and this is the result. If worse comes to worst, at least some of you will have chosen the difficult path...

And has anyone every heard of a SPELLCHECKER? DAMN! (By the way, I didn't use one... so if any of you spot a mangled word here - please feel free to point it out to meeeeee.)

Now, if only I had 6 dozen on one hand and a half on the other...
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Friday, August 05, 2005

Writer's Block

It looked like a good title at the time. I scratched my weary head and rubbed my bleary eyes and wondered how it was that I was at the office AGAIN at 2 in the morning.

I fixed the link to the John Mayer Contest and you can go see what I mean.

Well, it's Friday and I am out of things to write for the week. Ironically, I always joke with people on Fridays about having "run out of all my good material"... and now, of course, it's true. It's like that one commercial - this guy sitting at his computer all hours of the day and he clicks a link and it promptly responds, "You have reached the end of the internet" That's where my head is right now.

This weekend I have a gig at this redneck fish-fry party out in the middle of nowhere. I can only picture what it will be like at the moment - come Monday, I'm sure I will be chock full of good stories to tell. Rednecks are such fun to watch - not so much fun to get on the angry, drunk end of.. that's a bit like being on the business end of a wolverine with a broomstick shoved up its ass. But they're usually fun to watch from a distance - like from behind a chicken wire cage...

You might be wondering, hey wopanese guy, how in the hell did you get a gig at a redneck fish fry out in bumfook Agypt anyhow? Well, that's what happens when you play an Open Mike night at a mostly country-redneck bar. If someone likes how you play, even if they'd never listen to the music you're playing any other time, well.. you could be n like Flynn. Of course, this is really just the precursor to the big biker party I'm going to be playing in the weeks to come - not sure when just yet...

I suppose i'll be safe enough if I bring a lot of Budweiser beer, wear a rebel flag somewhere on my body, maybe wear a t-shirt that says something similar to the following:
  1. American by birth, Southern by the grace of God
  2. The South is like Jesus, We'll rise again
  3. Thank God I'm a country boy
  4. I'm with stoopid -->
  5. Beer - it's not just for breakfast anymore
  6. This is your brain (picture of an egg on front), this is your brain on drugs with a side order of bacon and toast
You know, the other night, at the end of Open Mike night, this guy at the bar wanted to talk to me. First, he claimed he "knows people" (whatever that means) so he wanted a demo CD of what I play, especially originals. Then he told me that he saw me a few weeks ago at the DMV (Division of Motor Vehicles - where you go to get your license, driver's tests, registration, license plates, etc) and that I had been really... umm, energetic.

You know, normally when someone says they've seen you before, you gotta expect that, most of the time, that's simply bullshit - it's a polite way of them trying to get on the in track with you. Whatever. We have all done it sometime - well, those of us who actually speak to other people in public and not just online. But just from the description alone, I knew this guy was on the level, at least about the DMV. Energetic - that's one way of describing what I was doing there, to be sure. I am absolutely certain, also, that most of the people at the DMV would be able to recognize me based upon the antics that I took that day. Now, THAT's a funny little story, really.

It was also odd realizing that sometimes... when you think to yourself, 'Bah! Who the hell is gonna remember this anyway?" before you do something smart/stupid/asinine/ridiculous/silly? Well, sometimes people actually DO remember.

Sometimes that can be a good thing. So, yeah, that whole "DMV incident" will probably be remembered by at least 2 dozen people there. It's a good thing that my face hasn't made it up on the wallboard at the Post Office yet, cause someone surely would have called by now.

Not that I've really done anything to deserve the Post Office wall...

well, not that I've actually been caught for, at least.

Okay, okay - nothing I've been caught, pressed charges with, and wasn't acquitted of - is that better for you picky anal-retentive types out there?

Speaking of chatting online... I suppose it is NOT a smart thing to do telling someone that, "Hey, I've seen you before..." yeah, hello, stalk much?
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