JESUS H. CHRIST ON A CRUTCH!!!

I visited one of my favorite blogs the other day and posted a comment.

Now I'm bogged down in some Vietnam/Iraq-like quagmire trying to respond to all of the moronic, ill-informed responses to my original comment! I don't have time to post on my own blog anymore. Let alone fix supper, do laundry and get a good night's sleep.

I need a fucking exit strategy!

Maybe I should announce that I will withdraw "x" number of my comments by the end of the year? Is that sending mixed signals to The Enemy? Am I giving the Evil-Doers a Roadmap To Victory? Am I conceding defeat?

I don't have time for this shit!

Time for some HUMOR!!

A hotshot New York City lawyer went duck hunting down in South Texas. Before long, the lawyer shoots and drops a bird, but it falls into a farmer’s field on the other side of the fence. As the lawyer begins to climb over the fence, an elderly farmer drives up on his tractor and asks the lawyer what in the blue blazes he thinks he is doing. The lawyer responds, “I shot a duck and it fell in this field and now I’m going to retrieve it.”

The old codger replied, “You better hold your horses there sonny. This is my property and you’re not coming over here.”

The lawyer, more than a bit miffed at the old farmer’s gruff attitude, responded, “Look old timer, I’m one of the best trial lawyers in America and if you don’t let me get that duck, I’ll sue you and take you to the cleaners.”

The farmer smiles at the lawyer and says, “Apparently you don’t know how we do things down here in Texas. We settle disagreements like this with the Texas three kick rule.”

The lawyer asks, “What in the heck is the Texas three kick rule?”

“Well,” says the farmer, “first I kick you three times and then you kick me three times, and so on, back and forth, until someone gives up.”

The lawyer quickly thought about the proposed contest and decided that he could easily take the farmer and agreed to abide by the local custom.

The farmer then slowly climbed down from the tractor and walked over to the city feller. His first kick planted the toe of his boot into the lawyer’s groin and dropped the lawyer to his knees. His second kick nearly wiped the lawyer’s nose off of his face. The lawyer was now flat on his back when the farmer’s third kick to the kidney nearly caused the lawyer to give up.

The lawyer then summoned every bit of his will and managed to get to his feet and said, “Okay, you old coot, now it’s my turn.”

To which the old farmer coolly replied, “No, I give up. You can have the duck.”

Poop Coffee!

THE MOST EXPENSIVE BEVERAGE IN THE WORLD!

And it comes out of a cat's ass!

My 12 year old daughter (Galadriel Tanqueray Onassis) told me about this last weekend. I didn't believe her. So I Googled it. Damn if she ain't right!

Seems there's this cat-like creature in Indonesia that eats coffee beans, then shits them out pretty much unmolested. But during the beans passage through the digestive tract, it takes on some characteristics that apparently make it DELICIOUS!

Somewhere, in the long ago past, some Indonesian motherfucker found some coffee beans in a pile of catshit and said (in Samuel L. Jackson's voice) "DAMN! That looks like some pretty tasty shit! I'm gonna go home and make some coffe out of this!"

You can expect to pay $75.00 for a cup of this coffee, if you can find it.

Sounds like something that would go over BIG in a Johnson County Starbucks.

The Mexicans Are Coming! The Mexixcans Are Coming!

I recently recieved an email broadast from a very dear friend of mine. The subject line was "WHERE IS THE OUTRAGE?"

I'm sure some of you received it too. It was all about illegal Mexicans invading our country, forcing us to speak Spanish, not paying taxes, blah, blah, blah. Heard it all before.

Edited to protect my friend's identity (I respect her right to her opinion and her viewpoint is not completely without merit) I post my response (which I emailed her privately).

"You know I luv ya. And this is obviously an issue that you feel strongly about. And you have some very valid points. I respect that. Too many apathetic people in this world.

But personally, I just can't get that worked up about our neighbors to the south wanting to come back to the land that we kicked them out of because they want to make a better life for themselves. Hell, I'd do it. And so would you! You're an intelligent, gutsy, head-strong person. I can't imagine you crapping in your back yard 'cause ya got no plumbing when you could come across the border at night and spend the rest of your life with indoor restrooms.

I reserve my outrage for the way that our current president has squandered America's good name and reputation in a personal vendetta against a country that was no threat to us.

I'm outraged that he has sent our brave men and women into a meat-grinder in an act of faith (faith=belief without evidence...look it up).

I'm outraged that we have more international enemies now (including some that used to be our Allies) then we had when he took office. The way to make the world safer for Americans is to make more friends, not more enemies. It will take one hundred years to repair the damage that this imbecil has done to our reputation abroad. Sorry, but it's true.

I'm outraged that the American electoral system has twice given the thumbs-up to someone who the majority of Americans voted AGAINST.

I'm outraged at the arrogance of a political party that wants LESS GOVERNMENT when it comes to regulating corrupt business practices, but MORE GOVERNMENT when it comes to the personal choices that people should have the freedom to make in their own lives and bedrooms.

I'm outraged that we are considering JAILING the Chinese-American citizen who vocally protested (exercised her Constitutionally guaranteed right of Free Speech) at The White House (the tax-payer funded abode of the American President who swears an oath to uphold The Constitution) just because China is the home of 4 BILLION PLUS consumers of American goods.

I'm outraged that I am paying almost $3.00 a gallon for gas while the oil companies are making record profits, and the current administration is made up of oil company profiteers!

So no, I can't work up much outrage over the fact that I don't have to pay $27.50 for a BLT or learn how to say "Gracias" to the person who serves it to me.

Besides, who are we going to replace all of those illegal Mexicans with? Illegal Candians? LOL! Somebody's got to pick the fucking lettuce. You want to do it? I don't.

Luv ya!

Big squeezy hugs and wet sloppy kisses!

P.S. - Despite what you may think of me, I proudly fly our flag at my home. I love this country. I just want to see us live up to our Ideals, our Constitution and our rhetoric. I would prefer that we NOT be such an obvious hypocrite in the eyes of the world."

How To Sing The Blues

HOW TO SING THE BLUES

by Lame Mango Washington
(attributed to Memphis Earlene Gray with help from Uncle Plunky, revisions by Little Blind Patti D. and Dr. Stevie Franklin)


1. Most Blues begin, "Woke up this morning."

2. "I got a good woman" is a bad way to begin the Blues, 'less you stick something nasty in the next line, like " I got a good woman, with the meanest face in town."

3. The Blues is simple. After you get the first line right, repeat it. Then find something that rhymes ... sort of: "Got a good woman - with the meanest face in town. Got teeth like Margaret Thatcher - and she weigh 500 pound."

4. The Blues are not about choice. You stuck in a ditch, you stuck in a ditch; ain't no way out.

5. Blues cars: Chevys and Cadillacs and broken-down trucks. Blues don't travel in Volvos, BMWs, or Sport Utility Vehicles. Most Blues transportation is a Greyhound bus or a southbound train. Jet aircraft an' state-sponsored motor pools ain't even in the running. Walkin' plays a major part in the blues lifestyle. So does fixin' to die.

6. Teenagers can't sing the Blues. They ain't fixin' to die yet. Adults sing the Blues. In Blues, " adulthood" means being old enough to get the electric chair if you shoot a man in Memphis.

7. Blues can take place in New York City but not in Hawaii or any place in Canada. Hard times in St. Paul or Tucson is just depression. Chicago, St. Louis, and Kansas City still the best places to have the Blues. You cannot have the blues in any place that don't get rain.

8. A man with male pattern baldness ain't the blues. A woman with male pattern baldness is. Breaking your leg cuz you skiing is not the blues. Breaking your leg cuz an alligator be chomping on it is.

9. You can't have no Blues in an office or a shopping mall. The lighting is wrong. Go outside to the parking lot or sit by the dumpster.

10. Good places for the Blues:

a. highway
b. jailhouse
c. empty bed
d. bottom of a whiskey glass

Bad places:

a. Ashrams
b. gallery openings
c. Ivy League institutions
d. golf courses

11. No one will believe it's the Blues if you wear a suit, 'less you happen to be an old ethnic person, and you slept in it.

12. Do you have the right to sing the Blues? Yes, if:

a. you're older than dirt
b. you're blind
c. you shot a man in Memphis
d. you can't be satisfied

No, if:

a. you have all your teeth
b. you were once blind but now can see
c. the man in Memphis lived.
d. you have a retirement plan or trust fund.

13. Blues is not a matter of color. It's a matter of bad luck. Tiger Woods cannot sing the blues. Gary Coleman could. Ugly white people also got a leg up on the blues.

14. If you ask for water and Baby give you gasoline, it's the Blues.

Other acceptable Blues beverages are:

a. wine
b. whiskey or bourbon
c. muddy water
d. black coffee

The following are NOT Blues beverages:

a. mixed drinks
b. kosher wine
c. Snapple
d. sparkling water


15. If it occurs in a cheap motel or a shotgun shack, it's a Blues death. Stabbed in the back by a jealous lover is another Blues way to die. So is the electric chair, substance abuse, and dying lonely on a broken down cot. You can't have a Blues death if you die during a tennis match or getting liposuction.

16. Some Blues names for women:

a. Sadie
b. Big Mama
c. Bessie
d. Fat River Dumpling

17. Some Blues names for men:

a. Joe
b. Willie
c. Little Willie
d. Big Willie

18. Persons with names like Sierra, Sequoia, Auburn, and Rainbow can't sing the Blues no matter how many men they shoot in Memphis.

19. Make your own Blues name (starter kit):

a. name of physical infirmity (Blind, Cripple, Lame, etc.)
b. first name (see above) plus name of fruit (Lemon, Lime, Kiwi,etc.)
c. last name of President (Jefferson, Johnson, Fillmore, etc.)

For example, Blind Lime Jefferson, or Cripple Kiwi Fillmore, etc.

(Well, maybe not "Kiwi.")

20. I don't care how tragic your life: you own a computer, you cannot sing the blues. You best destroy it. Fire, a spilled bottle of Mad Dog, or get out a shotgun. I don't care.

This is some FUCKED UP SHIT!!

WARNING! DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME! (On second thought, go ahead.)




Some British Geraldo-wannabe decides to have himself crucified with a bunch of wacked out Philippino religious nutcases and then chickens out at the last minute in front of God and everybody!

This guy is such a loser on so many levels:
> Wanting to be like Geraldo in the first place.
> Being batshit crazy enough to want to be crucified.
> Being a big fucking pussy in front of eveyone on the planet.

And what is up with these crazy Philippino bastards nailing themselves to a cross?!? JUST TAKE FUCKING COMMUNION!! A little grape juice and a cracker. Then you go home, mow the lawn (or in your case, machete the jungle), and give the wife a little pickle tickle. Lighten up for God's sake! Literally!

These people are every bit as nuts as those Shiite shits who bang themselves in the head with swords every year over Imam Hussein. Bang harder, dickweed! If you survive to do it next year, you fucked up!















Listen, I try to practice religious tolerance. I really do. I don't care what the fuck you believe if it helps you get through the day without going postal. But nailing yourself to a cross (or, more accurately, having someone else nail you to a cross. Think about it...you could probably do the first hand....) or smacking yourself in the head with a sharp sword, or thinking that when Adam and Eve were exiled from the Garden of Eden, they wound up in Gallatin, MO is some pretty freaky shit!

Get a full neurological workup! Really! It's worth the money! CAT scan, MRI, the works! You probably have a tumor. Need to get that shit checked out!

You MIGHT even want to consider The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. You want to get closer to God? A Sunday brunch at The Olive Garden (I highly recommend their Steak Gorgonzola Alfredo) and you are all good to go. Don't forget to tip your priestess.


















Honestly, believe whatever the fuck you want to believe if it makes you feel good. But try to follow the same rules with your religious observances that you follow when you masturbate. Do it in private. Don't draw any blood. Wash your hands when you are done.

Happy Fucking Easter.

(P.S. - That "snap, crackle, pop" you hear is NOT your fucking Rice Crispies...it's me, burning in hell. Do you smell bacon? 'Cause I definitely smell bacon!"

Unspeakable Obscenity

Dick Cheney earned more money from Halliburton (the Corprorate Sponsor of The War In Iraq) last year than he earned being Vice President of the United States.

American soldiers are being fed through a meatgrinder that funnels Big Bucks directly into the pockets of the Vice President who was the biggest supporter of the Invasion and the biggest liar about Iraq's ties to 9/11.

Does anyone else see even a POSSIBLE problem here?

Our son's and daughter's die in a completely bogus war, Dick Cheney gets rich.

We pay $3.00 a gallon to drive to their funerals, Dick Cheney gets rich.


Are you REALLY okay with that?

The Roof

I haven't said much about the Stadium Tax issue. I don't live in Jackson County, I'm not a sports fan, so basically, I could give a shit. Plus, Tony has been doing such an excellent job of tracking the story, I didn't feel like I had anything to add.

I'm old enough to remember when the stadiums were first built and the plans really did include a rolling roof. I thought "Wow. That's cool." Of course, I was probably stoned at the time. But I'm not against the concept of a rolling roof, as such.

The thing that I don't like about the whole issue is the way they are presenting it. If you listen to the spin-fuckers, you have a choice of a Nuclear Carrot (vote YES and get a cool stadium, a Super Bowl, an All Star Game and an NCAA Final Four which has nothing to do with either stadium), or a Nuclear Stick (vote NO and have a crumbling, empty ruin of TWO stadiums, no sports teams, and become Wichita without all of the aviation industry).

But with only days to go until the vote, I still haven't seen one basic question asked.

Why the fuck does a football team need a roof? The NFL doesn't "call" games because of weather. They keep playing. And there is nothing more entertaining than watching millionaires earn their fucking money slipping and sliding around in wet, freezing mud! Now THAT'S Football! They don't need no stinking roof! We could have freezing rain so heavy that the Quarterback has to break out of his ice-encased shell before looking for a reciever and the game would go on! The receiver could catch the ball at the 40 yard line and slide on a solid sheet of ice at 30 mph to score a touchdown and the game would go on!

I can understand baseball players wanting a roof. If it rains, they stop playing. If the humidity is too high and it kinda seems like it might be rain, they stop playing. If one of the fat catcher's crotch-sweat dampens the dirt under his ass in a manner that resembles an area where rain has recently occured, they stop playing. If Slugger scratches his crotch, they stop playing. That's a sound policy. Because "playing" is just a "gateway activity" to the larger evil of "losing". Nothing can keep the Royals from losing. Not a roof, not a coach, not an owner, not a turf, nothing. We shot our wad in '85 and we are still breathing heavy in a sweaty bed waiting to get it up again.

So, the baseball team's performance doesn't justify a roof, the football team's League doesn't require a roof. Who needs a roof?

Johnson County Power Fans. Pampered pansies who don't want to be exposed to the elements as they move from their seats to the bar and back. Johnson County Junior League Trophy Wives who don't want to take a chance on getting their brand new Mark Shale blouse wet as they stand in line to go pee in groups of 20 while missing a game they really don't care about anyway.

Half a billion dollars from blue-collar or poverty-level working folk to keep rich yuppies from being exposed to the elements while they "network" and close sales during a function they have no interest in.

I say let the teams leave. Maybe Johnson County will go with them.

Now if we could just get rid of the NASCAR track and send the rebel-flag waving, Bush-voting, Intelligent Design promoting rednecks packing too, this might just be a nice place to live.