A Modest Request For Proposal

Due to my current gimpy fuckedupedness, I'm not above paying someone for some basic services.

It's not that I "can't" do any of this stuff, it's that I'm supposed to be staying off of my right knee to give it a chance to heal.

So here is a list of shit that I am totally able to do for myself but would consider paying someone to do for me. I'd prefer to have them done this weekend. You can submit a bid on any combination of the listed tasks.

1. Rounding up dirty dishes and loading the dishwasher.
This is mostly taking all of my half-filled coffee cups cluttering my bathroom counter upstairs down to the dishwasher in the kitchen. There may be a few other stray dishes, but not many.

2, Doing 1, maybe 2 loads of laundry. I'll do the folding and ironing. I don't trust anyone to do that right at any price.

3. Make a grocery store run. I'll make a list and give you the cash.

4. Dusting and vacuuming. Some people actually enjoy this, I hear.

5. Rounding up and bagging up the trash. I will be the Final Abiter of what is and is not trash.

6. Cleaning 3 bathrooms, only 1 of which sees regular use.

I think that's pretty much it. As I said, I can do all of that stuff myself. I'm not an invalid. But my doctor wants me to stay off my feet and shit still needs to get done.

So, submit your bids if you're intersested in earning a few bucks.

DISCLAIMER: The lowest bidder with the biggest tits who promises a "happy finish" will be given first priority in the formal review process.

Hey Lady, Wanna Dance?

So, last Friday I have a clumsy fuck moment.

I tripped and fell and landed HARD on my right knee.

FUCK!

I iced it down, took some ibuprofen and went to bed.

The next day, I wrapped an ace bandage around it and went to CVS where I dropped about $60 on a sturdy knee brace, a couple of knee-cap-shaped ice bags with Velcro straps, and some Icy Hot sleeves.

I spent most of the weekend in my recliner, leg elevated, knee iced down.

On Monday I slipped one of those Icy Hot sleeves over the knee, wrapped that in the sport brace, popped some ibuprofen, grabbed my hickory cane to help keep the weight off the right leg and headed to work.

I decided this was a good excuse to drive the Chevy Blazer I bought for my daughter. My reasoning was, since it's an automatic, I wouldn't have to worry about working the clutch with my bad knee.

It actually wasn't until today that I thought "Oh yeah...you work the clutch with your left foot. Putz!" But whatevies. The Blazer is a pretty sweet ride.

So, long story somewhat shorter, I've been toddling around the office this week with my bare hickory cane (bare = no rubber cap on the bottom) sounding like some sinister, B-movie pirate. I even tossed out the occasional "Arrrggghhh" to my startled co-workers.

This meant more time on my feet, less time with my leg elevated, and virtually no time and place to ice it down. Consequently, my knee became increasingly painful as the week went on.

Being a Real Man, it wasn't until today, 5 days after the injury that I thought "Ya know, maybe I should have a doctor take a look at this hot mess."

I didn't go to my primary care doctor because all he would be able to do is send me someplace else.

I didn't go to the ER because not only is it too expensive, but it's hard to make the case that I have an "emergency" when my injury occurred 5 days ago.

So I split the difference and went to an Urgent Care clinic that was covered by my insurance.

The Dr. there examined me, sent me to another clinic about half a block away for X Rays, then back to the Urgent Care Clinic to find out whassup.

As far as we can tell, I didn't actually break or tear anything important. I just whacked my knee against a hard object with about 240 lbs of brutal gravitational force. The tissue around the knee cap is angry as all fuck, but no serious damage.

The X Ray did reveal a small bit of bone or cartilage that's floating around loose in there and probably grinding stuff up.

The Dr wants me to ditch my hickory cane in favor of ACTUAL CRUTCHES to keep the weight off the knee. He also wants me to see an orthopedic Dr who can order an MRI to see if there is any soft tissue damage and decide what we should do about The Floater.

But the best news of all (wait for it....) is that he gave me a prescription for hydrocodone (that's Vicodin for you rich, brand name bitches). I caint read no doctor writin', so I don't know how powerful they are, but who gives a fuck. It's Vicodin. I'll take it and like it.

He also wants me to continue the icing and elevation therapy and 4 Ibuprofen 3 times a day to reduce the inflammation.

Oh, and one more thing. With the crutches, my left leg will be bearing the brunt of my weight and that's the leg that has the foot with the Plantar Fasciitis, a huge fucking bunion and a dislocated middle toe! That's the foot that I have the boot cast for. So I have THAT working for me. Yay me!

Who wants to go dancing?

Why Haven't The "Job Creators" Created Any New Jobs?

This graph is from 2007 but I think we can all agree on the trend. Nothing has changed that would bring the Upper 1% closer to the Bottom Fifth.



So here's my question. It's a simple one.

If those at the top of the socio-economic bracket are no longer "greedy, rich, bastards" but are now transformed into "Job Creators" and the salvation of The American Way...where are the fucking jobs?

Rich people are richer then they have ever been. They are taxed at a lower rate than they have ever been. They have less "skin in the game" in the American economy than ever before.

So, with all of this extra money these supposedly altruistic, patriotic, "Job Creators" have...where are the motherfucking jobs?

We shouldn't have ANY unemployed workers. These "Job Creators" have more than enough investment reserve to create assloads of new businesses employing every fucking body.

And yet...they don't. They are afraid that they might not be able to remodel their chef's kicthen in their summer home in Monaco if their gross income is reduced by 0.00001%,

They might have to reduce the hours of one of their undocumented, minimum wage toilet maids if their net wealth drops from $3.1 Billion to a mere $3.0 billion.

If these richest motherfuckers are really the engine that drives the American Economy, if they are really the most "American" Americans, if they are really so much better than everyone else that we should all bow down to our Corporate Saviors and be happy to be doing so, then maybe, just maybe, they should be giving up some of their shit to help us out.

After all, we are the ones who made them rich. We sell their shit and we buy their shit. Without us, they are NOTHING! So I say, they owe us.

Pony up, bitches.

Stop whining and kick in your fair share of our national infrastructure.

Consider it a "cover charge".

The End of the Space Shuttle Era

So Atlantis landed today ending the 30 year Space Shuttle program.

I have mixed feelings about this.

I'm not too devastated because in many ways the entire shuttle program, despite all of it's incredible accomplishments (the assembly of the International Space Station, the Hubble repair mission, etc) it was largely a dead end and a waste of time.

Let's assume for the moment that Columbus really did "discover" America in 1492. You can compare that to the United States landing on the moon on July, 20, 1969.

Now, instead of all of the subsequent voyages to the New World by Columbus and all of the other nautical explorers that came after him, suppose that the Europeans had simply used their naval technology to cruise around within site of the Atlantic coast and maybe establish a tourist destination.

That's the shuttle program.

Rather than using the moon landings as a beach head to explore and colonize the rest of the solar system, we just putzed around in low Earth orbit for the next 30 years.

What a waste of 3 decades.

But I do like the reliance on private enterprise to develop the next generation of manned spacecraft. There is a lot of money to be made in cis-lunar space and high tech entrepreneurs should be given the green light to go forth and get rich.

So I'm not worried about the future of manned spaceflight. The Russians have the most reliable space transportation system on the planet, the Chinese are moving very aggressively to outdo both the United States and the Russians. Americans like Burt Rutan, Richard Branson and Elon Musk will make space their private little money-making bitch.

There will always be an increasing number of humans working and living in space forever. We will never stop.

PERSONAL MEMORIES

+ In the early days of the shuttle program, I contacted NASA HQ in Washington, D.C. looking for information. I was eventually put in contact with Tony E. in the NASA Public Relations department. We became friends and I got regular shipments of press kits, mission patches, lapel pins, photos and video tapes.

+ John Young was the Commander of the first space shuttle mission. He was one of my favorite astronauts. He flew with Gus Grissom on the first manned Gemini flight. He flew on two different Apollo missions and walked on the moon. I always got the impression that the reason he became an astronaut was because he thought it would be fun!

+ The biggest component of the space shuttle stack is the Main Fuel Tank. It's basically a huge thermos bottle that holds the liquid hydrogen and liquid oxygen that fuels the space shuttles three main engines. The shuttle itself and the 2 solid rocket boosters are strapped to this big fucking tank. For the first few flights, the Main Fuel Tank was painted white so it matched the mostly white shuttle and SRBs. NASA quickly decided that all of that white paint added weight and cost to the stack so they stopped using it. They just covered the tank in the orange primer that covered the foam and left off the white paint. This is when the space shuttle started to resemble a huge, fleshy phallus with some strap-ons. Kinky!

+ At this time, I worked in the credit department of a very upscale Crown Center and Plaza retailer. I learned of a telephone number you could call and listen in to transmissions between the newly launched space shuttles and ground control in Houston. Sine processing credit applications and writing collection letters was extremely boring, I used to dial into this telephone line and eavesdrop on the astronauts. PROBLEM: This wasn't a toll free number. I racked up quite a sizable phone bill for my employer. Much to my surprise, they actually examined their telephone bills, found my charges, and demanded that I pay them back or be fired. I payed them back in payroll deduction installments and kept my job.

+ There was an early shuttle test pilot who was from Kansas. He and his wife came into our store one day and filled out a credit application. I may or may not have made an illicit copy of that application for my personal archives. Because I couldn't get over how cool it was that somebody could walk into a store, fill out a credit application and in the block that asked "Employer" could put "NASA" and in the block that asked "Occupation" could say "Command Astronaut". He may as well have just whipped out a 12" cock, slapped it on the counter and said "I'd like to open an account!"

+ My dad worked at the TWA Overhaul Base for about 25 years. In November, 1984, the shuttle Enterprise, carried on the back of a Boeing 747 payed a visit to the base in the late 70's or early 80's. My dad got me in to see it and take some pictures. I also got a commemorative baseball cap.

* After I married my first wife, we planned a vacation to Washington, D.C. My NASA buddy Tony E. suggested we factor in some time to meet and hang out with him. We could even stay at his place for a couple of days. AWESOME! We went, we met Tony, we had a great time. He got us a private tour of a Smithsonian Air and Space Museum annex in Maryland that wasn't open to the public. It was fun! It wasn't until we got back that my wife informed me that Tony E. was quite obviously incredibly gay. I had no idea. Turns out that all of that cool stuff he had been sending me for years was because he wanted to get in my pants. Did not see that coming. My 1st wife's gaydar was strong.

+ By 1986, I was working for AT&T. All of my friends at work knew I was a huge space nerd. I don't think it was anymore than 48 hours after the Challenger disaster that they started inflicting NASA jokes on me. "Know what NASA stands for? Need Another Seven Astronauts!" There were lots more. I won't repeat them here.

+ On January 31st, 2003, I was a divorced dad hosting a slumber party for my 9 year old daughter and about a dozen of her screaming, giggling girlfriends. The next morning, February 1st, I was fixing breakfast for the girls and waiting for their parents to come and pick them up when I started hearing news reports that communication with the shuttle Columbia had been lost during reentry. That was a very sad day.

+ In 2009, Mike Massimino (@Astro_Mike) becomes the first NASA astronaut to tweet from space.

I'll miss the shuttle, but I look forward to what will come next. Humans are pretty amazing.

Except for you.

You Stupid, Gullible, Trader Joe Sycophants

The Greater Metropolitan Kansas City Area is pissing all over themselves (and not an insignificant number of innocent bystanders) over a fucking grocery store opening.

Trader Joe's has come to Kansas City in two locations.

"2 BUCK CHUCK! 2 BUCK CHUCK!"

"Who Gives a Fuck? Who Gives a Fuck?"

Apparently a lot of upscale, gullible, meat puppets who are easily manipulated by clever marketing give a fuck for 2 Buck Chuck and the whole manufactured "Trader Joe's" mythos.

SCENARIO 1:
A grocery store at 7th & Paseo offers an inconsistent, rotating stock of food products from sources and brands that can't be found anywhere else at prices lower than you would find for comparable items at say, Price Chopper or Hy-Vee.

ASSUMPTION 1: This is an Aldis store offering low grade, off-brand crap that "normal people" would never buy, to low-class, food stamp recipients who can't afford the quality of produce they could get if they could afford to shop at Price Chopper or Hy-Vee.

SCENARIO 2:
A grocery store on 119th St. in Leawood, KS offers an inconsistent, rotating stock of food products from sources and brands that can't be found anywhere else at prices lower than you would find for comparable items at say, Price Chopper or Hy-Vee.

ASSUMPTION @: This is Trader Joes! Offering exotic, organic, exclusive, hard-to-find, off-brand products that only "in the know" foodie intelligentsia can acquire because they are way too smart and hip to shop at such low-brow, "common" places like Price Chopper or Hy-Vee.

YOUR EPIPHANY: You "upscale" JoCo, Beemer-Hummer driving fucktards are buying and eating the same "unique" food products as your ghetto-dwelling brethren. It's just sold in different packages and presented by different people.

At an Aldis in the hood, if you try to rip open a package and sample a pretzel before buying the bag, you will probably be tackled and tazed by a retired police officer! You might even die!

At a Trader Joe's, you can ask some Jimmy Buffet looking mother fucker to open the bag for you and he will happily let you try a taste before you buy it.

It's the same fucking pretzel! It's the same fucking price! Only the training of the employee and the expectation of the customer are different.

You privileged, upscale, conservative, condescending, hipster motherfuckers make me want to puke!

You can take your 2 Buck Chuck and shove it up your pompous, foodie, pretentious fucking hipster asses.

A Biblical Account of God's Brutal, Anonymous, Gay Rape of a Polygamist

If any of you bible-thumpers can come up with an explanation of this passage from Genesis that doesn't have Jacob sending his 2 wives (tell me again what the traditional, biblical definition of marriage is?) and other family members away so that God can brutally ass-rape Jacob and send him home limping from the experience, I'd love to hear it.

GENESIS 33:22 - The same night he rose and took his two wives, his two maids, and his eleven children, and crossed the ford of the Jabbok.
23 - He took them and sent them across the stream, and likewise everything that they had.
24 - And Jacob was left alone; and a man wrestled with him until the breaking of the day.
25 - When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he touched the hollow of his thigh; and Jacob's thigh was put out of joint as he wrestled with him.
26 - Then he said 'Let me go, for the day is breaking.' But Jacob said, 'I will not let you go unless you bless me.'
27 - And he said to him. 'What is your name?' And he said 'Jacob.'
28 - Then he said, 'Your name shall no more be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with men, and have prevailed.'
29 - Then Jacob asked him, 'Tell me, I pray, what is your name.' But he said 'Why is it that you ask my name?' And there he blessed him.
30 - So Jacob called the name of the place Peniel, saying 'For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life is preserved.'
31 - The sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping because of his thigh.