Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Greg's Blurty:

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Wednesday, June 19th, 2013
5:32 am	SPOILER ALERT And now they're telling me I'm crazy over here because I don't sit there like a goddamn vegetable. Don't make a bit of sense to me. If that's what's bein' crazy is, then I'm senseless, out of it, gone-down-the-road, wacko. But no more, no less, that's it. ~~Randle Mcmurphy, ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO'S NEST [1975] Normally, I don't write posts like this one unless I've been provoked into doing so by things such as something stupid Ann or Abby (http://newsfeed.time.com/2013/01/04/double-vision-top-10-famous-twins/slide/ann-landers-and-dear-abby/) said about suicide being somehow wrong or a problem because you'd have to be crazy to not want to live here, an insane Letter To The Editor from a child abuser about how abortion is something that should be avoided because life is a wonderful choice and abortion makes their imaginary friend really mad and/or some inane "advice" given by the Director Of The Hitler Youth (http://www.creators.com/advice/tween-12-and-20/i-walked-teasing-stopped.html) to impressionable kids about how authority is never wrong and the key to happiness is submitting to whatever whims your overlords decree and above all you must never fight back (If you've never had the misfortune of reading his column, just picture Jame "Buffalo Bill" Gumb saying, "It rubs the lotion on its skin. It does this whenever it is told," to children. It's just like that. Only more creepy.) but today is different. Not unheard of but different. Because none of those usual suspects have been particularly offensive lately and this is just one of those days when the cumulative weight of all the usual bad news has simply become overwhelming and again I feel the same way Tom Lehrer did when he said, "I often feel like a resident of Pompeii who has been asked for some funny remarks on lava." It's gotten so bad that I've stopped watching Rachel and Ed (http://www.rachelmaddow.com/ & http://www.bigeddieradio.com/) entirely. Not because they've slipped or anything because they're as good as ever but because after reading the news and listening to Randi and TYT (http://www.randirhodes.com/main.html & http://www.tytnetwork.com/) everyday in addition to watching Bill (http://www.billmaher.com/) every week, I've just had all the bad news I can stand. I really wish that "Tune in, turn on and drop out," was a viable option but it isn't and never was anything more than just another Utopian fantasy that will never be realized by anyone. If you think I'm exaggerating, you need to get a sense of just how bad things are. Why don't you start by finding a clip of Patrick Kennedy on last week's Real Time and watch him tell Bill that marijuana shouldn't be legalized. And feel Bill's pain as he tries to politely inject some reason and logic into the conversation and the frustration he must have been feeling because he couldn't say, "Dumb ass, get the hell off my show!" Not that he would have said that but it must have been frustrating that it wasn't even an option. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place. Insulting or even being rude to a Kennedy would be the same as standing in the doorway of a club or restaurant and telling one of MLK's kids, "Boy, you can't come in here cause you ain't the right color." While at the same time, you can't let someone, even a Kennedy, just get away with trying to prolong something as massively stupid and costly (In both money and lives) as the War On Drugs without some kind of resistance. As a bonus, if you're one of the people who thinks that Bill is overpaid, it should set you straight real quick. If anything, he doesn't get paid nearly enough to walk tightropes like that. And if you still don't think we're already neck deep in lava, consider this, 8 Reasons Young Americans Don't Fight Back: How the US Crushed Youth Resistance (http://www.alternet.org/story/151850/8_reasons_young_americans_don't_fight_back%3A_how_the_us_crushed_youth_resistance). And this, Critics slam Obama for "protecting" Monsanto (http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-250_162-57576835/critics-slam-obama-for-protecting-monsanto/). And this, Bank of America former employees: 'We were told to lie' (http://www.nbcnews.com/business/suit-bank-america-paid-bonuses-foreclosures-6C10351458). And this, Almost Everything Is A Crime In America Now: 14 Of The Most Ridiculous Things That Americans Are Being Arrested For (http://theeconomiccollapseblog.com/archives/almost-everything-is-a-crime-in-america-now-14-of-the-most-ridiculous-things-that-americans-are-being-arrested-for). And on and on and on, all the way to ad infinitum. And what, with all that and infinitely more bad news going on, is the bulk of America worried about? Justin Bieber's driving (http://omg.yahoo.com/blogs/celeb-news/again-driving-drama-justin-bieber-135839783.html). The prevailing battle cry isn't "Stop raping the constitution," or "If Monsanto Kills Me, At Least Have The Decency To Arrest Someone Who Actually Did Something They Should Be Arrested For!" or "Get Rid Of Private Prisons And Stop Arresting Everyone For Everything That Shouldn't Be Illegal In The First Place," or any one of a million other good choices but is instead, "Take Away Justin's Driver's License Or We're All Doomed!" It's enough, as John Cleese once said, to make you want to chew your own leg off. But you can't because chewing your own leg off is now illegal. Further more, because eating anything, including your own leg, causes cavities, you'll also be in trouble with the ADA. Of course, if you live in New York City, you can still eat some of your own leg as long as you don't make a pig out of yourself by consuming over 16 ounces. As long as you can effectively avoid all the Feds who have sworn an oath to putting you in a for profit private prison. Time out. My Editor-In-Chief, Style Manual, is demanding to know how this devolved into self-cannibalism while at the same time complementing my limitless talent for always being able to surprise her in new, novel and disturbing ways. I really wish she would learn that kids are meant to be seen, not heard but every-time I bring it up, she just says, "In the first place, I'm 27 years old. In the second place, maybe I can't write the way you do but despite that one inexplicable talent, I'm still smarter than you are or will ever be and what good is a high performance sports car without a sane responsible adult in the drivers' seat? If I were to let you write unsupervised, I might just as well hand Justin Bieber the keys to a tank and say, 'Go have fun!' In the third place, fighting with you makes me feel bad because there is no honor in pummeling your intellectual inferiors so don't make me do it! Most of all, if you're still too dense to learn from all your other past mistakes, at least have the sense to save us both a whole lot of needless aggravation by no longer trying to treat me like a child." Blah blah blah. I'd also like to point out that I made her look a lot better and far more grown up than she really is by editing all the profanity out of that little speech. I should just send her straight to bed without dinner but that's just as distracting as when she tries to tell me how to write. A lot less annoying but just as distracting (And possibly illegal because it wouldn't surprise one bit if our highly productive and endlessly useful Congress has made starving insufferable know-it-all brats overnight to teach them a lesson against the law even though Michelle keeps telling us how fat they are and how she thinks it should be illegal to feed them). The phrase, "Can't win for losing," leaps to mind. As does, "Jesus, I must be crazy to be in a loony-bin like this," which is another thing Randle Mcmurphy said but I don't have to tell you that. And that brings us pretty much full circle right back to the quote we started off with. In case you don't remember, it was, "And now they're telling me I'm crazy over here because I don't sit there like a goddamn vegetable. Don't make a bit of sense to me. If that's what's bein' crazy is, then I'm senseless, out of it, gone-down-the-road, wacko. But no more, no less, that's it." And now that all the preliminaries are out of the way, we are finally free to get to our purpose for being here today, Item One on our Mission Statement, Jackie and Dunlap's hour long review of Man Of Steel. Before you go off half-cocked about how one hour is too long to spend reviewing one movie, let me remind you that Roger and Gene are both dead now, so what choice do you have? Besides that, it's the best hour long Man Of Steel review you're gonna hear today so sit down, shut up and just watch. Just one last thing here before we get the review started, they say SPOILER ALERT a lot in this one, so remember to not listen to the parts that are gonna give away the plot if that sort of thing bothers you. Just one other one last thing before we get started, they sing Get The Hell Outta My Store, Hippie (http://www.amazon.com/Get-Hell-Outta-Store-Hippie/dp/B001CDMOIA), which is the best song they ever wrote at the end---But don't read that if knowing surprise endings in advance bothers you. OK, now sit down, shut up and watch, for real this time: Jackie & Dunlap's Hour Long Man Of Steel Review (SPOILERS) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hpq_eIKp3NU Current Mood: depressed Current Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420 (Comment on this)
Friday, June 14th, 2013
3:32 am	It's Friday, You Bastards “I'm tired of this back-slappin' "isn't humanity neat" bullshit. We're a virus with shoes.” ― Bill Hicks If you Google "Dr. Eric Pearl fraud," you'll get 65,700 hits, most of which look like this: http://www.sciencebasedmedicine.org/eric-pearl-reconnects-with-hands-off-healing/, and outline how he has no talent for anything other than theft (Let's be honest here, he is to medicine what Glenn Beck is to politics and the only way he could be more evil is if he gave up faith healing to become a right wing radio host. Or a therapist) but few, if any, of them mention his biggest crime, which he committed again on Coast today (http://www.coasttocoastam.com/show/2013/06/13 ---which reminds me of something else Bill said, "Watching TV is like taking black spray paint to your third eye," only in this case, it was radio instead of TV) which is saying that life is a classroom and we are here to learn. It's one thing to rip off people who are so ill that they are desperate but telling people that bad things happen for a reason is unforgivable. It's a rubber stamp approval for everything from the Holocaust right down to the NSA listening to all your phone calls and planting cameras in your bathroom, "To prevent terrorism." Because things like that are not only good, they are neccessary because they teach us lessons we need to know for what comes next. Just as repulsive and damaging is the nearly identical idea that we have to have suffering so that we can recognize and appreciate happiness. Dig that, kids. If old people and infants weren't starving to death right now, your Lucky Charms just wouldn't taste good this morning. Get down on your hands and knees right now and thank Jesus for blessing us with so much poverty, inequality and injustice. And don't forget disease. If He gives you cancer, thank Him for that, too, just like Casey Charf did (http://www.gofundme.com/caseyscure). While you're at it, wish Donald Trump a happy birthday because he's 67 today and thank Him for all his efforts in making the deadbeat takers even more rich and you can see just how successful he and his kind are right here (http://beingliberal.upworthy.com/9-out-of-10-americans-are-completely-wrong-about-this-mind-blowing-fact-3). If all that makes sense to you, then just go give a bunch of money to Eric Pearl and vote for Republicans from now on because you're already so insane that it won't make much difference. Speaking of insanity, there's another Bill Hicks quote that fits in perfectly right about here: “There are essentially only two drugs that Western civilization tolerates: Caffeine from Monday to Friday to energize you enough to make you a productive member of society, and alcohol from Friday to Monday to keep you too stupid to figure out the prison that you are living in.” Because this is Friday and it's time to introduce Fifi, my Sommelier, so she can introduce this, the Theme Drink she invented for tonight's party: --------------------------------- Skinny Dipper Ingredients: 1 shot Malibu rum 1 shot Southern Comfort 1 splash Grenadine 1 can Coca-Cola Mixing instructions: Add rum, whiskey, and grenadine to glass. Fill the rest of the way with Coke. Stir once to mix. --------------------------------- Drink like you mean it and then go see Man Of Steel which opens today in a theater near you (If you're with the IRS, relax, that was another completely uncompensated plug and I'm not getting anything from Hardee's® or Warner Bros. Why are you always so suspicious? Harry Warner hasn't even spoken to me since 1958, for God's sake). Is it just me or does Man Of Steel sound like a porn super-hero epic? Or the long awaited sequel to Behind the Candelabra? Well, I'll leave that up to you because you kids know the motion picture business a lot better than I do and I'll stick to what I do know. Which is that it's Friday, which means your bra has been working hard all week so you should give it the rest of the day off (I totally stole that line from some blogger somewhere but I did it for you because now you can score some of the big-time Karma points that you desperately need by giving me all the credit for it). Come on, you'll not only look better but you'll be more comfortable and the big payoff is that you'll be ready for tonight's featured Party Game: Binders Full Of Girls Who Look Like Mermaids, which, of course, is dedicated to Esther Williams. But don't wait for the game to start. Get a head start by getting topless now. And don't worry about finding a fish tale costume either because that really doesn't matter at all. An ordinary thong or less will do just fine. See? This isn't a prison, it's a swimming pool! Current Mood: depressed Current Music: Coast To Coast AM---George Noory, WOC AM 1420 (Comment on this)
Monday, June 10th, 2013
3:37 am	It's Like Living In A Doll's Jail Least anyone get the completely wrong idea and again unjustifiably accuse me of being pompous, big headed and overly self-important, I wish to start by reminding you that I know my place. I am not a casting director. I'm just a humble greeting cards salesman who only dabbles in writing, directing and occasionally acting in smash-hit, critically acclaimed, award winning movies and TV shows as a part-time job. I have highly trained, intensively competent, highly valued, overpaid flunkies who think I issue deadlines just to hear myself talk to do my casting for me and get coffee, which I don't even drink and maybe if they could get the beverage orders right, I'd pay them more or even stop trying to figure out how to outsource their jobs to China. In short, casting is not my thing and I would never try to tell anyone else how to do it. Except when I write a part specifically for someone or see a part in a project that I have nothing to do with, that is crying out to be played by one particular actor. And it is the latter position we find ourselves in this morning. To be even more specific, we find ourselves in Selina Meyer's living room watching David Pasquesi play a role that was obviously written for Jason Alexander (Veep Season 2 Episode 16 First Response: http://www.hbo.com/veep/index.html#/veep/episodes/02/16-first-response/synopsis.html). And remember, before you stupidly say that I'm just living in the past and stubbornly clinging to the fantasy of seeing George and Elaine banter again if only on an irregular basis, that that is not the case. It's also true that if I were the executive producer of Veep, Michael Richards would be Jonah (Timothy C. Simons would be his assistant, Kenny), Larry David would be Saul Horowitz, the most powerful man in Washington (Because he's the President's Etiquette Director and Chief Tour Guide at the White House) and Jerry Seinfeld would be POTUS (Who wouldn't be seen very often but more often than the never seen or even heard current POTUS. Who does he think he is anyway? Mrs. Columbo?) and if you want to try to twist that into some paranoid fantasy about how I just want to turn this show into Seinfeld Part Two, all I can say is good luck, God speed and don't you think it's time to have your medication adjusted because you're getting a little too delusional, even for you? Most importantly, Amy would be nude at least once per episode. It would be a trademark, much like Superman being in every episode of Seinfeld and offices everywhere would have a pool every Monday to bet on what's going to happen to Amy to get her naked this week but I'm not even going to tell you that because you're just waiting for an other opportunity to falsely accuse me of clinging to Seinfeld again and I'm not not playing that game. Can't you just see Jerry...Um, I mean, the President, saying, "And you want to be my Vice President," the same way he said, "And you want to be my latex salesman?" That would be in the episode where he considers dumping Selina and George Steinbrenner...Um, I mean Saul, explains to him that he can't because it's never been done and Jerry responds with, "Of course it's been done! What about Spiro Agnew?" Saul answers, "He resigned. It's completely different than getting fired so he doesn't count." Jerry fires back with, "That's a pretty fine line. Fired, resigned, what's the difference? I say it counts. It's a precedent! A Vice-Precedent" That's when Kramer...Um, I mean Jonah, bursts in, wanting to know if anyone's seen his latte before casually asking if anyone remembers the nuclear launch codes. He also wants to know where he can find good bananas because he's going on the Tarzan Diet. Well, there's more to that scene, of course, but you get the idea. Most importantly, you know that I am completely over not seeing Jerry, George, Kramer and Elaine every week and I would appreciate it if you'd quit trying to project your Utopian fantasy's on me. Remember, I'm not trying to recast an already pretty good show. I'm just trying to make it a little better. Now that we have all that straight, we'll get to covering the plot, theme and character development of First Response but It's Like Living In A Doll's Jail, Volume Two is going to have to wait til tomorrow...Relax. It's one day. Half a day, really. I mean you subtract showers and meals, it's like twenty minutes...because right now I have to go apologize to a virgin. It wasn't my fault. You could do your taxes in the time it takes me to have an orgasm. Yada yada. Current Mood: depressed Current Music: Coast To Coast AM---George Noory, WOC AM 1420 (Comment on this)
Friday, June 7th, 2013
4:58 am	It's Friday, You Bastards So far, it's been a good year for suicide. Or at least it appears so. A casual study of the local obituaries here in the Quad Cities has yielded a lot more people than usual between the ages of 10 and 60 dying at home for no stated reason which is polite journalism code for suicide. Maybe this is the year that the official U.S. rate will climb above where it's been stuck for decades (One every fifteen minutes and again I ask, how you can you anti-suicide people even dream, let alone ask for a rate lower than that?) when and if they ever do release the next set of numbers. That, of course, is speculation, just like most things in life, because the future's uncertain, you can't trust what you read in the papers and the end is always near but one thing we know for sure is that celebrity suicides have been good this year. Or at least entertaining. I don't remember them all but there was Mindy McCready and then this week, Lynne Rosen and John Littig (http://www.businessinsider.com/lynne-rosen-and-john-littig-suicide-2013-6). I hope you remembered to bring your Dramamine® because I am about to to shift gears just a little and show you what The Young Turks have to say about the latter two: ----------------- "Two self-help talk show hosts were found dead in their New York City home on Monday in what police said was an apparent double-suicide. Lynne Rosen, 46, and John Littig, 48, hosted the call-in talk show "The Pursuit of Happiness" on WBAI-FM. Authorities told The New York Daily News that both were found in their home of more than 20 years with plastic bags over their heads, apparently having inhaled helium until they died."* Two hosts of a self-help radio show, "The Pursuit of Happiness" were found dead of apparent suicides in New York City. This raises the question: is it foolish to think over-optimistically and does one set oneself up for failure and delusion in doing so? Or is optimistic thinking the only way to insure success? Cenk Uygur, Jimmy Dore, and Cara Santa Maria discuss. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-2f7dVBo1v4&list=SPTpcK80irdQg3qk5n9dNzlL3l7HRrcR4w ----------------- Now that you're properly medicated and you've heard the Cenk, Jimmy and Cara debate, let's entirely shift away, just as they did, from suicide to the question of whether or not Positive Thinking is the crock of cow cookies it appears to be. And we'll answer that with a simple definitive YES. And NO. The problem is that Cenk, Jimmy and Cara, just like all the rest of us, were all 100% right and 100% wrong at the same time. If that sounds impossible or even contradictory to you, take two more Dramamine®, Google "Wave-Particle Duality" and call me in the morning. If you already understand that light is a wave and a particle at the same time, even though that's completely impossible and have applied that knowledge to all the other things in life that don't make sense (Which is everything), you don't need any further comment from me. The problem we now find ourselves running into is that my Editor-In-Chief, Style Manual, has an Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder centering on length and word count issues (That reminds me, I need to talk to her doctor, too, because the length thing even comes up sometimes when I'm not even writing and that clearly shows she needs stronger meds because she can no longer see what's right in front of her face but if you want to know more about that, you can just go to TMZ for a biased, one sided and completely untrue account) so I have to say a few more things about Positive Thinking. Starting with, Positive Thinking, just like Negative Thinking, or prayer or intention or whatever else you want to call it, works and it doesn't work. All at the same time. When it does work, if you have any sense at all, you write it off to meaningless coincidence and if you don't have any sense at all, you give all the credit to an imaginary God. And when it doesn't work, you do pretty much the same thing. And that's a pretty good system. Unless you want truth, facts and real answers rather than the mythology, meaningless hearsay and harebrained theories you're already getting from religion and science. In which case you're pretty much stuck with putting your head in a plastic bag and inhaling helium until you're dead (Or any other effective method) and praying that there is clarity in whatever comes next. You might even hope that death brings the uninterrupted eternal rest and peace it seems to promise but I wouldn't count on that given that they can now prove in the lab that there is no past or future which means you are already as dead as you are ever going to be and this is all the rest and peace you are ever gonna get. But maybe, just maybe, what we call death is a doorway leading to a better place. And maybe the ultimate purpose of intention and Positive Thinking doesn't have anything to do with what we call life but rather it shapes where we go next. Again, that sounds crazy but it's no crazier than us creating our own reality (Which is another thing science has proven does happen but is not even close to explaining why it doesn't happen) or us already being dead. Which brings right back to suicide and the eternal question, "Is there anything wrong with it?" I still have a nagging feeling that when we die we'll find ourselves in a place where all the people who did kill themselves are going to say, "You're a chump! You could have had all this years ago but stupidly you decided to stick it out there. And what did it get you?" At the same time, I have an intense fear that whatever is next is worse than here. And then there's the Duality thing, which we know is true about light and a whole lot of other things on the particle level which means it is also true of everything here on the macro scale up here where we live even though we can't see it, just like we can't feel the Earth rotate, which is saying, "You're completely right and completely wrong about all this all at the same time." And if Duality is correct, Paris Jackson (http://www.billboard.com/articles/news/1566161/paris-jackson-suicide-attempt-5-new-developments) is the luckiest and unluckiest girl of the week. All at the same time. Just like the rest of us, because we didn't die, either. Or did we? And if we did, how would we know? Sure, you can use common sense to sort this out but if you subscribe to common sense you're stuck with concluding that the Earth is a flat stationary plane around which the heavens revolve because that's what you can see. But then most people are going to call you an idiot. So you have lots of choices but none of them are good so you have to cut your losses and go with the ones that are going to do the least damage to your self-esteem because they are the least likely to get you called derogatory, hurtful names. It's all kind of boils down to what Kurt Vonnegut said about evolution, "Believing in evolution is the same as believing that a tornado can fully assemble and fuel a working 747 merely by roaring through a junkyard and yet you have to believe it because it's the only game in town, your only alternative being religion which is no game at all because everyone will say you're stupid if you believe it." Or, as Sam Kinison used to say, "THANKS, GOD!!!!! THANKS FOR ALL THE CHOICES!!!!!!" And now, because man and much more importantly, woman, does not live by Dramamine® alone, it's time to cue Fifi, my Sommelier, so she can come out here and unveil the Theme Drink she invented for tonight's party: ----------------- Suicide Stop Light Ingredients: 1 1/2 oz Midori melon liqueur 1 1/2 oz Absolut Vodka 1 1/2 oz Aftershock 1 splash Orange juice Mixing instructions: Line three 1 1/2 oz shot glasses up on the bar. pour each of the liquors into its own glass. Splash the orange juice into the vodka for color. Then shoot (RED YELLOW GREEN and then BLACK out). ----------------- Then to make all this even more bearable, we have Binders Full Of Naked Women. If that bothers you because you have moral hang-ups or whatever about nudity, don't sweat it because, thanks to Duality, all these girls are fully clothed, too. You just can't see the clothes. You might be confused and disoriented right now but trust me and give it a minute or two and before you know it, in no time at all, you will love and appreciate science as much as I do. Current Mood: depressed Current Music: Coast To Coast AM---George Noory, WOC AM 1420 (Comment on this)
Friday, May 31st, 2013
6:00 am	It's Friday, You Bastards "Well what I want them to know is just like John Wayne was from Waterloo, Iowa. That's the kind of spirit that I have, too," ~~~Michele Bachmann,confusing John Wayne Gacy - the mass murderer - with John Wayne, the movie star who was from Winterset, Iowa. Who would have ever guessed that Michele "Quitter" Bachman (http://nbcpolitics.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/05/29/18578678-michele-bachmann-im-quitting-my-house-seat-in-2014?lite) would be the one and only Republican to listen to Bobby "We've Got To Stop Being The Stupid Party" Jindal? And now the Tea Party is faced with the age old question, "We done scraped the bottom of the barrel clean so what the Hell do we do now?" And I feel sorry for them. Michele Bachmanns' don't grow on trees, you know. They grow at the bottom of barrels. Usually ones that have been used to store toxic waste. On the other side of the coin, those of us not in the Tea Party are faced with another age old question, "Why can't she quit now instead of waiting until 2014?" There's another question troubling us as well, which is, "Have enough hillbillies and old rich white racist men in Minnesota died since the last election to finally get Jim Graves to Washington?" Where are the Death Panels that Barack promised us in 2008? Why do we always close the barn door after the horse gets out and gets into Congress? Why do we have to rely on lawsuits and Congressional investigations to undo the damage caused by retards who should have been eliminated by ObamaCare BEFORE they voted? And speaking of retards, I want to at this time, for no other reason than my own personal amusement, remind everyone that both Jim Fisher (http://www.woc1420.com/pages/JimFisher.html) and Dennis Miller (http://www.dennismillerradio.com/) continue to refer to Michele as, "Smart and well qualified." Evidently they've never heard her speak and/or seen this: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/05/29/michele-bachmann-legislative-accomplishments_n_3354476.html. Or they have and they are simply counting on their listeners being as stupid and uninformed as they are. Before I wander off topic by over indulging in one of my favorite hobbies, right wing radio bashing, let's get back on topic by saying this whole Michele Bachmann quitting thing boils down to being good news that really isn't all that good at all because most of the damage has already been done. No one cares what I think but I'm going to put it out there, in front of God and everyone, anyway: We should stop banging our head against a brick wall just because it feels so good when we stop because the payoff isn't nearly as big as we would get from not banging in the first place. Speaking of banging and first place, I'm bitterly disappointed that the Quad Cities (http://www.visitquadcities.com/) isn't going to get the Most Visited City title this year (Unless the forecast is wrong: http://www.foxnews.com/travel/2013/05/30/bangkok-is-most-visited-city-according-to-new-research/) and that sucks because I was sure this was our year. We came very close to almost building a Ferris Wheel at Modern Woodman Park (http://mwltraveler.com/2013/04/22/flood-surrounds-modern-woodmen-park-sinks-plans-for-ferris-wheel/), for God's sake! What more can we do? What more do you people want? And I know you cynics out there are saying that I'm just mad because I lost a ton of money on this...And OK, I admit it, I did bet $10 on the Quad Cities (Take your witch hunt elsewhere, copper. I went to Vegas to place the bet, so it's entirely legal) and I know that's a lot of money but it doesn't bother me. Much. This is about home town pride. And fairness. And I have nothing against Bangkok, I like it as much as the next guy. Especially in the wintertime. But haven't you been there enough times? All I'm saying is give Davenport a chance. And, as usual, no one's listening. And no one cares that I just lost ten whole dollars. Now my accountant is going to yell at me again because YOU had to go to Bangkok again! I'm tired of being the victim! Why can't you ever be responsible? I don't want to harp on this or anything but, as Frank Sinatra once said, "A man doesn't know what happiness is until he's been to Davenport. By then it's too late and I've lost $10." OK, I paraphrased Frank a little there and I suppose you're going to try to blame that on me, too. Too bad for you, I know that the big lesson in life, baby, is never be scared of anyone or anything. And when that don't work, booze solves all problems. To wit, here is Fifi, my Sommelier, with the Theme Drink she created for tonight: ----------------------------------- Phuket All Beach Ingredients: 2 shots Vodka Fill with Orange juice 1 jigger Whiskey 1 jigger Amaretto Mixing instructions: Begin by making a standard Screwdriver (OJ and Vodka) and then add the Whiskey and the Amaretto. Mix and serve. ----------------------------------- So whether you're a tea partier who's depressed over getting dumped by Michele Bachmann---Don't take this the wrong way but you people are really pathetic---or you're just a concerned citizen who's outraged by the way the vast tourism industry conspiracy has stolen $10 from me, this should make things better. Not perfect. For that we'd need a lot more than a single dressed up screwdriver. But it's a start. And for some, a finish. Either way, you better grab one now before Michele drinks them all. Current Mood: depressed Current Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420 (Comment on this)
Wednesday, May 29th, 2013
5:37 am	On The Road To The Fountain Of Youth A few months ago Kennedy's mother said, 'You have a choice. Do you want to go to camp this year or run for president? ~~~~Bob Hope Mr. Nixon, in the last seven days, has called me an economic ignoramus, a Pied Piper, and all the rest. I've just confined myself to calling him a Republican, but he says that is getting low. ~~~~John F. Kennedy, 11-5-1960 I don't have to tell you that today is Bob Hope's and Jack Kennedy's birthdays. Unless I do, in which case I don't, because I just did. I also don't have to tell you what I did today, because it was the same thing I do every year on May 29. Unless I've never told you this story before, in which case I'll do it now. Early this morning, I set sail from Hyannis Port in a Lear Boat (You kids think they just make airplanes, don't you, but you are wrong, jet exhaust breath. Check this out: http://www.learbaylor.com/LifeStyle.htm. And aren't you youngsters who work for the IRS already in so much trouble that you don't want to risk getting in even more hot water by not just trusting me when I say that was another completely uncompensated plug?) bound for Singapore, Zanzibar, Morocco, Utopia, Rio, Bali and Hong Kong. It was just me. Alone with my thoughts, the sea and my Lear Boat. And Dorothy Lamour. And Marilyn Monroe. And Ginger and Mary Ann because Dorothy and Marilyn don't cook and if we got stranded on some deserted island somewhere, someone would have to make the coconut and banana cream pies. And Captain Morgan. And his first mate, Ensign Bacardi, who everyone called Gilligan for some reason that I don't understand. Because someone has to drive the boat and the Coast Guard says if I get caught circumnavigating the world with a BAC of more than 1.5 just one more time, they're going to suspend my boat driving license for 30 days and we can't have that. So it was just the seven of us...Oh, I suppose I should tell you that they weren't the real Dorothy, Marilyn, Ginger and Mary Ann because they are all busy and/or deceased but exact doubles, circa 1940-1964, provided by my friends at Gig Salad (http://www.gigsalad.com/Tribute-Bands/Tribute-Shows) and you couldn't tell the difference between them and the real thing even if you tried. I used to bring Ted and Bing along on these annual trips, too, but Bing just got in the way and Ted is bad luck. Every time I brought him, we would crash into a bridge---That wasn't so bad in the old days but these days when you hit a bridge, it falls down and then the FTA makes you fill out a ton of paperwork and there just isn't time for that when you're trying to get to Singapore, Zanzibar, Morocco, Utopia, Rio, Bali and Hong Kong all in one day. If Julie, our Cruise Director, hadn't called in sick, there would have been eight of us but I, out of respect for Bob, who was Republican, won't even mention that because talking about how lazy and entitled the working class has become is just depressing to Conservatives. Of course, Bob wouldn't make it as a Republican now because he supported the troops by actually doing things for them rather than just talking about it and even worse, he kept saying things like, "If you haven't any charity in your heart, you have the worst kind of heart trouble," and that that kind of long haired bed-wetting hippie Liberal talk just isn't tolerated by the GOP anymore. Likewise, I won't talk about Singapore. It used to be fine but now the only way they could be more ridiculously repressive is if they elected Mike Bloomberg President. And a lot of really cool buildings coupled with a nearly perfect climate just doesn't make up for that. So we have to keep going to Singapore solely out of respect for tradition and because Kaigoon is purely fictional according to all our charts. So after a brief as possible stay in Singapore, it was onto Zanzibar, Morocco, Utopia (Which is really Alaska), Rio, Bali and Hong Kong and now that it's all over, I have a confession to make. There is an outside possible chance that I'm getting old. Well, chronologically, obviously, because I'll be 50 in about 8 months or so and you have no idea what that's like because no human being has ever lived this long before, unless you count the lady in Japan who claims to be 52 but can't prove it because no one kept birth records way back then, but take it from me, it ain't no picnic. But thus far, I've always been able to hide all this misery and discomfort of extreme old age behind a genuine facade of youthful vitality. But now it seems like it might be catching up with me. This simple one day trip around the world with four girls, the oldest of which isn't even half my age, that used to be so easy, has left me tired. Verging on exhausted. That's why, just as soon as I've had a nap, I'm setting a course for the Fountain Of Youth. Bob, Bing and Dorothy were going to go there in 1977 (Unless you have a PhD in Ancient History you have no idea what 1977 is, so let's just say it was forever ago and leave it at that) but then Bing derailed the whole project by dying. He was really old, too. I don't remember exactly how old but he was but it seems he was at least 45, maybe even 46. So, anyway, it's now up to me to find the Fountain Of Youth. Alone. All by myself. With just Dorothy Lamour. And Marilyn Monroe. And Ginger and Mary Ann along with Captain Morgan and his mate, Ensign Bacardi, a mighty sailing man/bartender. And with any luck, I'll find it and it'll work and I'll be able to do this sort of thing seven times a week again instead of just a couple of times before becoming unacceptably tired. And it has to work because I'm out of options. The maître d' at the old folk's home won't seat anyone over 43 and the Grim Reaper keeps ignoring me because he believes the rumor that I'm immortal. So it's either perpetual youth or perpetual old age and the latter is unacceptable because, if history repeats itself, Jack and Bob are going to have another birthday again next year and I'll have to do this all over again. And as Jack once said, "Things do not happen. Things are made to happen," so it it's time to get going. The minute I finish this nap. Current Mood: depressed Current Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420 (Comment on this)
Monday, May 27th, 2013
7:06 am	Too Much Of A Good Thing Is Wonderful Michael Douglas was right when he said that watching Behind The Candelabra (http://www.hbo.com/movies/behind-the-candelabra/index.html) is not an uncomfortable experience. I should have known that he was right (Oh, before I forget: SPOILER ALERT. Stop reading right now unless you already know that Liberace was gay), because Shameless (http://www.sho.com/sho/shameless/home) has, via Ian and Mickey, gotten me used to seeing men having sex on TV but I was still expecting Candelabra to be uncomfortable. That's what happens when you live in homophobic culture where even today, people like Rush Limbaugh remain in the closet while making millions from gay bashing and a man who came dangerously close to becoming President is still proud of the way he bullied gays while he was in school. So if the potential cringe factor stopped you from watching you can relax because as Mike also said, it's far more a love story than a story about two guys having sex and you soon forget how much the actual bodily mechanics bother you. For that reason alone, I hope that the 36 to 46% of Americans that still oppose gay marriage watch this movie. It would be nice to see four or five solid polls in a row agreeing that 80% or more of all Americans want to end this stupid separate but unequal system we have now in most of the states and maybe movies like this will help make that happen. If you're not watching Behind The Candelabra because you're fed up with Hollywood excess and celebrities endlessly complaining about how unfair all the things you have to deal with are but conveniently forget that they have massive amounts of money to cushion the blows that you don't have, that's a different story. Then there's the usual problem with all bio-pics of determining how much of it is true. It's the latter that bothers me the most. If everything really happened just as the movie says it did, Liberace is a the villain, not because he broke up with Scott Thorson because that happens to almost all couples but because he broke a lot of promises and left Scott with a laughably small settlement. Another factor is Scott's drug addiction that contributed to the beak-up and Liberace being directly responsible for it. But did the movie leave a lot of the pertinent details out? Either way, the break-up would have been more fair and everyone would have been better off and happier if they could have had an open relationship and/or gotten married and it's just another graphic demonstration of why we need to legalize gay marriage and get over the stigma that causes people to feel like their careers will be over if anyone finds out they are gay. Because this sort of thing doesn't just happen to mega rich celebrities. You can even make a good argument that it may even have a saved a life in this case. Maybe if it had been a legally recognized and socially accepted relationship or marriage, they would have worked harder at it and Lee would never have gotten AIDS. Maybe not but it is a possibility. Another issue is that in the movie, Lee and Scott met in 1977, when Scott was 18 but many sources say they met in 1976 when he was 17. Not for long because his birthday is in January but still, it would mean that Lee was, for a week or two, a sexual predator. Even though the age of consent in Nevada is 16 because it doesn't apply to gay couples (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/04/04/crime-against-nature-statute-nevada-aclu_n_3015565.html). It doesn't bother me a bit if he was sleeping with Scott before it was legal (Nor do I blame Lee for hiding all the other things he hid because he was forced to. He had a reputation, career and fortune to protect and that was society's fault that he couldn't be honest, not his) but I feel it's important to point out because he was also a Conservative. To his credit, he never made his politics public but people should know them now because it might make some people think twice before voting Republican. Democrats are very far from perfect but they aren't nearly as hypocritical. And we won't even mention the adoption because too many people just aren't ready to add incest to gay underage sex because it might make their heads explode (If you're a Republican, keep repeating to yourself, "At least they weren't an interracial couple" until your pulse returns to a safe rate). So let's talk about something everyone can agree on: There is no God and all religions are a hoax. And yet, Lee, who was otherwise pretty good at detecting and avoiding scams, was a staunch Catholic. Even though for his entire life, Catholic doctrine dictated that he was going to Hell for being gay. Probably to one of the lower, less desirable levels, too, because of all the lying, incest and underage sex he also indulged in. He probably lost points for having a massive porn collection, too. The explanation for this contradiction was my favorite part of Behind The Candelabra. Because it was so X-Files/Twilight Zone like. No one knows if the story told in the movie is true but we know that the framework upon which it was built is. On November 22, 1963 (The same day JFK was killed), Lee succumbed to renal failure brought on by inhaling the fumes from the solvents that were used to clean his suits. He was put on dialysis and nine different doctors told him he was going to die. So, observing the principle that you can't take it with you, he spent all the cash he had buying gifts for family and friends and accepted the fact that he wasn't going to leave the hospital alive. Then, after a couple of weeks or so, his kidneys began working again and he made a full recovery. And he said that was when he finally decided to remain a faithful Catholic. Not because of the recovery itself but because while he thought he was dying a nun dressed all in white came to see him and told him to save his strength and not pray and he was going to be fine. When he asked to see the nun later to thank her, he was told that there was no nun fitting that description at the hospital and the nuns who were there didn't wear white habits and no visiting nun that fit his description had been seen by anyone in the hospital. So Lee concluded that she was a direct messenger from God. Maybe even Mary herself. And let's say that Lee really did see and talk to the nun, the question still remains: Was she real or a figment of his imagination? Why can't I get an answer to that? I listen to Coast every night! And yet, it still remains a mystery. And where was the nun when he was dying of AIDS? (Time for another SPOILER ALERT! Stop reading right now if you don't know Liberace didn't recover from AIDS). Where was she on February 4, 1987? Or did she appear only to hear Lee say, "I appreciate the gesture but I'm old and tired and screw this. Take me to somewhere better?" For all we know, that's how the death process works for everyone. I know there are a lot of skeptics out there and there's nothing miraculous or even surprising that someone lived after doctors said he was going to die because doctors are wrong about such things all the time (And it was doubly so in 1963) but they aren't always wrong, especially when nine of them pass judgement on the same case and all come up with the same conclusion and how many times can you have cops and other first responders tell you that there is no possible way a person could have survived some accident or other calamity and yet they did before you start to question everything you think you believe and start to think that maybe that nun was real? And why can't George Noory conclusively clear up the whole mystery with one show? Heck, I wouldn't even mind if he took a whole week to do it. But no. What happens when we die just continues to be a giant question mark. No matter how many radio shows we listen to. So, since we aren't going to get what we really want which is an solution to the twin mysteries of life and death, let's just wrap this whole thing up with a few random observations. Even given it's few flaws and the possibility that Scott Thorson tilted the whole story to make him look good and Lee look bad, everyone, especially anyone opposed to gay marriage, should see this movie. The other and final random observation I have is that Liberace really knew how to be rich. Just like Michael Jackson, insane amounts of money were not wasted on him. Whatever you think of his lifestyle, character or talent, you gotta admit that he had a lot of cool stuff. The clothes and jewelry are boring but most of the rest of it was really good. Especially the cars and the piano that Chopin composed on. And there's just one last thing, if you want to delve a little deeper into the paranormal aspect, look up the Tower House in London which he tried to buy after he had a strange experience in it. Current Mood: depressed Current Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420 (Comment on this)
Friday, May 24th, 2013
5:24 am	It's Friday, You Bastards Do you think Autism is a real disease? After watching Ingenious Minds last night profile John Elder Robison (http://science.discovery.com/video-topics/brain-intelligence/ingenious-minds-john-robison.htm), I have to say, more decidedly than ever, no. It is not. In fact it seems even more made-up and artificial than the king of made-up artificial diseases, Bipolar Disorder. I do, though, have to applaud the losers, frauds and outright crooks in the Psychiatry Industry for convincing the general public that a guy who worked with Pink Floyd and Kiss before having a great career designing toys and nuclear test equipment and then becoming wildly successful in the car repair business has a mental illness. On the other hand, I do agree that these people are wired differently. And in this case, differently means better. What I object to is calling them defective and trying to make them like us instead of the other way around. What we need are more people who can design a smoking guitar to Ace Frehley's specifications and produce nuclear test equipment in their spare time and less who think that kissing up to the boss is an accomplishment and American Idol is entertainment, instead of the other way around. As usual, we are going in the wrong direction because a bunch of con-artists, drug pushers and Conservatives who are very very good at herding sheep want us to go that way. Look at the number of people they have convinced that suicide is crazy because you would have to be insane to not want to live here. And the number of children who are forcibly drugged because the poor delicate teachers can't deal with kids acting kids and Big Pharma can't deal with freeloading delinquents who won't buy drugs. . Et al. Ad infinitum. I still don't believe in God but I do think it's a genuine miracle that Mitt Romney is not the President. Speaking of Gods that don't exist and gullible people who will believe absolutely anything, this is the start of Memorial Day weekend which is the holiday we use to thank God for sending us lots of disposable kids so we can have wars that make oil companies richer. It's the holiday that reminds us that saying, "Thank you for your service," isn't the emptiest, most insincere and worthless gesture ever. Pretending that us purposely sending kids off to die before we think they are responsible enough to drink beer for the sole purpose of making a select group of entitled takers even more wealthy is something noble and grand is. But who am I to throw wet blanket all over a three day weekend devoted to parades, barbecues, massive beer consumption and great sales at Best Buy and Home Depot? No one, that's who. If you want to sacrifice your kids so the Koch brothers can make a few more dollars, while at the same time calling those who were "lucky" enough to not die welfare cheats because they selfishly want what we promised them via our politicians that love the troops so much when they enlisted, that's your business and far be it from me to ruin your holiday. So go to the cemetery and have fun honoring all those dead kids you killed. But not until tomorrow because first things first. We have this giant Memorial Day Friday Party to get started. Trust me, this is going to be more fun than going to Best Buy, Home Depot and the cemetery combined. All that and a bag of chips is how I think you kids would put it but the chips aren't the main attraction. This is, the drink that Fifi, my Sommelier, invented for tonight: ------------------------------------------- Memorial Day Melonoma Ingredients: 2 oz Tequila (Juarez) 2 oz Sour mix 2 oz Melon liqueur 1 oz Lime juice Mixing instructions: Serve on the rocks or blend with ice to make a Frozen Melon Margarita. ------------------------------------------- If that doesn't chase away the meddling, guilt inducing ghosts of wars past, I don't know what will. Unless it's this, tonight's featured Party Game: Binders Full Of Women In Camo. I do have to apologize to those of you who like your war games to be entirely authentic because all of our participants are willing. If you want the realism of forcing yourself on a girl who's wearing camo who isn't willing, I'm afraid your only option is to go out and join the real Army. Or the Air Force. Marines. Coast Guard. Navy. Whatever. Just flip a coin and choose wisely. Current Mood: depressed Current Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420 (Comment on this)
Tuesday, May 21st, 2013
6:00 am	Lucky Me You've probably already had it up to here with death and taxes already this week...Thank God, it's Tuesday already, huh?...or at least for today,but since the future is uncertain and the end is always near, I'll just briefly mention a couple of things that should get their own post or even posts, starting with Ray Manzarek, along with at least 51 people (Including 20 kids and they kept saying yesterday that the death count would go up but so far it hasn't budged) in Oklahoma dying yesterday, and ending with the Senate spending a lot of time worrying about the Tea Party being harassed by the IRS instead of wondering about Apple (http://finance.yahoo.com/news/apple-avoided-billions-taxes-congressional-210553640.html) before I start with Cathy and her journey to the other-side. You know, just in case the future picks now to live up to its' reputation and never comes. Now that the fifty-two biggest deaths from yesterday are out of the way (And is it a coincidence that Ray died of cancer?), along the tax story that balances the whole equation, we can talk about the other biggest death from yesterday, which was Cathy (The Big C HEREAFTER: THE FINALE, Season 4 Episode 4 http://www.sho.com/sho/the-big-c/season/4/episode/4#/index). Oh, I guess I should say SPOILER ALERT first, just in case you haven't seen it yet, before I tell you Cathy is dead, so you won't get mad at me. So I'll do that now. SPOILER ALERT. Now that you've been adequately warned, where we do start? At the very end? Good choice. Because if you ask if any pilot, they'll tell you that flying is 90% mind numbing tedium punctuated with 10% terror and since life is the same as flying and what with the future being uncertain and the chance that you won't live long enough to read the end of this thing, we might as well eat dessert first. Pie, anyone? Get two forks and put on your swimming suit (Bathing costume if you happen to be in the UK) cause we're going swimming. Before, during or after we eat Ina's strawberry rhubarb pie because that stupid rule of waiting an hour before you go in the water after you eat doesn't apply after you die. And that's just one of the perks of being dead. As far as we can tell. Because the producers gave us the skimpiest view of the Afterlife we can imagine so the rest is left...Well, up to our imagination. For all we know, Cathy is tortured by demons every-time she gets out of the pool for all the mean evil things she did while she was alive. Especially if you're Catholic, because she considered suicide and according to your belief system, just thinking about it was the same as doing it and for all you know, Dr. Malachi Martin was right and the Pope was wrong and suicide, under any circumstances, is still a mortal sin. Or maybe the Pope was right and Malachi is being tortured for having the gall to disagree with him. But, since all we do know is that Cathy now has the pool she always wanted, we'll set aside speculation for the moment and address your biggest and most pressing question, which is, "Greg, if you had written and directed this episode, how would it have ended?" That is an awesome question that you will never regret having asked. And let's start with me ending this episode right before Ina says, "She passed 30 minutes ago." Because the story I have will take another full hour to tell and thus would require another episode next week. And it would begin with Paul bringing in the Peonies just as Cathy jumps out of her body the same way her roommate did last week. And as he is falling apart as Ina tells him she is dead, she says, "NOW you bring me flowers? Lucky for you, I feel so good that I'm not going to haunt you for the rest of your life! Maybe a week or two but not for the rest of your life." As she finishes speaking, the wall in front of her dissolves into a long hallway with a bright light at the end. As Paul continues to disintegrate into a blubbering mess, she touches him and nothing happens and she says, "OK, I feel bad about the haunting threat. I take it back, but it doesn't matter because no matter how I feel, it's not going to matter until I learn how to communicate with you and that's obviously not going to happen here. And anyway, I think that's my cue. So goodbye, dear. I know this is going to sound selfish but I don't care, don't make me wait too long to see you again. You know, in case I can't figure out a way to talk to you from this side." He gets worse and she points to the hallway and the light at the end and she gets more frustrated and a little guilty. "See? It's nothing personal, I have to leave you. That's my cue." She begins walking, then jogging then full on running and finally arrives at the end of the hallway where she finds, to her immediate right, the Ladies' Room. She turns and goes in---Remember, one of her biggest frustrations at the end was that she could no longer go to the bathroom by herself---and finds that it's a wasted trip because it's a pay toilet and she doesn't have any change and the door is too low to squeeze under. She doesn't know whether to laugh or cry so she ends up doing a little of both and only stops when a short elderly man with a thick German accent steps out of the shadows and says, "This one is on me, Madam," as he puts a nickel in the slot and opens the door. She mumbles a quick thank you followed by an even quicker, "Lucky me!" as she rushes in and closes the door behind her. When she emerges, she is beaming as she proudly shouts, "I DID IT! All of it! Number one AND two! Start to finish, including the paperwork and I DIDN'T NEED ANY HELP FROM ANYONE! I didn't even get any of it in my hair!" I know you MTV Generation kids with your iPadPods that keep playing all that damn hip-hop and rap music all the damned time that have reduced your short term memories to nothing don't remember the guy in the hospice who somehow managed to mess up his hair every-time he messed up his diaper but Cathy does and that's just going to have to do because I don't have time to tell that story. So, anyway, while she's proudly beaming and bragging about her most recent accomplishment to the restroom attendant, she pauses and says, "Hey! I know you! You're Hitler!" Adolf nods and looks down, as if he knows what's coming. Cathy takes a step back and kicks him in the groin as hard as she can. "THAT," She says as he crumples to the floor, "Is entirely personal and I hope I run into you again because there's a lot more I want to do but right now, I have to see what's behind Door Number One." She exits the Ladies' Room and walks a few steps further down the hall and she finds herself in her therapist's office. I thought long and hard about including this scene because I didn't like the Life Review quality they attached to it in the inferior episode that I didn't write and direct but finally, I decided to take their mistake and turn it into something useful. So Cathy walks in and demands to know why the therapist didn't tell her she was dead the whole time. The discussion quickly evolves into an argument which Cathy tries to end by shouting, "I'm not paying you for this! You lied to me!" The therapist protests that she never lied because it never came up. Cathy never asked her if she was dead. Cathy then tells her to quit twisting the facts around and trying to blame the victim. Then the therapist begins pleading, "Will you just shut up so we can get your Life Review done? I have better things to do than sit here with you all day, you know." That's when Cathy stands up and says, "NO! I didn't ask to be born and I sure as Hell didn't ask to die and draftee's don't do exit interviews! At least this draftee doesn't!" That's when the therapist gives up and says, "Fine. I didn't to review your life anyway!" Then she presses a button on her intercom and says, "You can have her, now." Enter the guy from Puerto Rico, the guy she was on the boat with that everyone says is the Angel Of Death now because she dreamed the whole thing and then kept seeing him at least once an episode afterwards. Anyway, he comes in and leads her out the other door and right into an elegant cocktail party. Among the guests are Marlene, Dr. Sherman, her mother (Who died before we ever got to meet her, of cancer no less) and Lee (Who everyone but me seems to have totally forgotten). There are the usual greetings and small talk and soon everyone is swapping stories of their first meeting with Hitler. Dr. Sherman tells about how he walked into an operating room to find the Führer unsedated and strapped to the table, so he castrated him. Marlene told how she pushed him into a vat of boiling oil and Lee described in vivid detail how he cut off his head with a Samurai sword. Cathy has heard enough and says, "Stop! Castration? Decapitation? Boiling oil? And I get to kick him in the balls in the Ladies' Room? That's not fair! That's bullshit!" Dr. Sherman tries to cheer her up with, "Cathy, relax. Eternity is a long time, you'll have plenty of other chances. It's like it never ends. And it's not just Nazis. Just this morning, I chained Ted Bundy to my bumper and dragged him for over a hundred miles. It was great. Oh, and cut out the dirty talk. The management here frowns on profanity?" Cathy looks at Marlene and asks, "Is that true?" She nods and says, "They fucking hate it. And those assholes are worse than Santa Claus, they monitor everything. Don't make them mad or they might take away your pool." "My pool? I get a pool? Where, where is it?" "Oh shit! That was supposed to be a surprise. Fuck me sideways and call me Skippy. Oh well, since the cat's out of the bag, let's go see it." Then they go out and start swimming and that's pretty much it but there's parts I left out of course because I don't need to hear you whine and cry about how I spoiled your alert again. Oh, I guess I can tell you this part. The cop who gave her the speeding and disorderly conduct ticket wanders by and writes Cathy up for swimming less than an hour after eating. Did I mention that there were hors d'oeuvres inside? Ah, well, OK, I guess I need to say Spoiler Alert again then. And I'm sure you can figure out all by yourself that the cop was dead the whole time, just like the therapist, so that's not spoiling anything. Just like you figured out that she got more tickets for attitude and swearing, too. Speaking of idiots who we don't need on this side or that side, we should say a word or two about the idiot Conservative Republican Sean gave his kidney to. But what can we say about him that won't get us in as much trouble as Cathy's in? Practically nothing, so maybe we should just skip it. And that works out just as well because we're out of time anyway but don't panic because if I ever get around to doing Lucky Me, Volume Two, I'll have all eternity to cover everything else that happened in The Big C finale that I didn't write and direct. Current Mood: depressed Current Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420 (Comment on this)
Monday, May 20th, 2013
8:14 am	Open Minded? If Governor Pat "Blago Was Better" Quinn is smart (Since this is Illinois, smart means the size of the kickback he will get) enough to sign it into law, Illinois will become the 19th state, along with DC to allow Medical Marijuana (http://articles.chicagotribune.com/2013-04-17/news/chi-illinois-house-debates-medical-marijuana-20130417_1_medical-marijuana-bill-medical-use-lou-lang). And if he and several other key players get an adequately sized payoff, this will go into effect in a very leisurely manner and all the suffering people who could use it yesterday will benefit from it. Eventually. There's no rush. It's not like this is a useless new indoor smoking ban, lower BAC law or a new seat belt regulation, all of which can be in place, from to start to finish, in twenty minutes or less. This is more like marriage equality because it only helps people who are suffering. Therefore it can wait. And it can also be one of the strictest and most useless of all the Medical Marijuana laws. Just like riverboat gambling, Illinois is being very cautious with this. Do you remember when the first gambling boats opened here? There were $200 daily betting limits and the boats had to cruise. Now, of course, there are no limits and casinos don't even have to be boats anymore and we have slot machines in many bars. And the world still hasn't ended. So why can't we just skip straight to the part where anyone who is suffering can get Marijuana quickly and easily and maybe suffer a little less? And the people who just want to smoke it for fun won't cost us a lot of money because we decide they are criminals? There's the graft and corruption I've already mentioned but the bigger problem is all the senile old people who allow it. The dead weight hanging around society's neck that hampers progress. The people who are too stupid to realize that the War On Drugs is an advertising campaign that costs a lot of money and lives just to make guys like Mitt Romney even more rich than they already are. If you want to place a face and voice on these mentally challenged, racist people (You think it's an accident that African Americans now constitute nearly 1 million of the total 2.3 million incarcerated population and together, African American and Hispanics comprised 58% of all prisoners in 2008, even though African Americans and Hispanics make up approximately one quarter of the US population?) you can read what a local sheriff said about the horrors of legalization or better yet, you can listen to my #1 Favorite Local Conservative Crackpot (http://www.woc1420.com/pages/JimFisher.html) some afternoon on the Nazi Station. Listen to Jim just once and you will no longer have to wonder how or why America is in so much trouble. Multiply him and his few listeners by millions all across the country and you see how big the problem is. These people don't just cling to their Bibles and guns, they vote. With horrifying results. They put Mark Sanford in the House(http://abcnews.go.com/blogs/politics/2013/05/mark-sanford-sworn-into-house/). They allow major corporations to do whatever they want. And they maintain the War On Drugs. They have a lot of other accomplishments to brag about, too, but we don't have all day here so just skip them. And go back to Governor "Blago Was Better." He says he's "Open minded." about medical marijuana which should be of great comfort to you if you're suffering through chemo right now because there's a 10% chance he will actually do something for you before you die. Aren't you glad he's looking out for you? And if you're gay and want to get married, you have to, ironic as it sounds, drive to Iowa because Illinois won't allow it here until long after you're dead. Or until Pat Quinn can figure out a way to make a ton of money from it. Whichever comes first. Current Mood: depressed Current Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420 (Comment on this)
Saturday, May 18th, 2013
6:45 am	So Now You Believe in Heaven? Do you remember when Tony Soprano got pulled over and was given a speeding ticket? Don't quote me on this because my memory ain't what it used to be but to the best of my recollection, it happened when he was driving home with Carmela after a therapy session with Dr. Melfi but anyway, the part that matters and is also, coincidentally, the part I remember with complete confidence, is that Tony was completely powerless. During the stop. He tried giving Officer Jerkoff (Not his real name. I can't remember what they called him but Officer Jerkoff works just as well as any other name) a little attitude but not much because it quickly became counterproductive and Tony knows when to back off. And actually, it was more warning than attitude. Tony was giving Officer Jerkoff a chance to gracefully save his own job and like most cops, he stupidly declined the offer. He instead chose to exercise the immense power he had at his disposal at the moment with complete disregard of the future. And the moment Tony got home, he crushed that future with one phone call. Then, a little later, some people, including Tony himself, felt sorry for Officer Jerkoff when it was revealed that he was now working at a home improvement store for minimum wage. I don't understand why anyone felt sorry for him because he had no excuse for not knowing who Tony is (How many times does he have to be on TV and even without the TV coverage, I'm supposed to believe a cop doesn't know who the local mob boss is? No way.) and that issuing that ticket was the same as signing his own death warrant (Which was mercifully commuted to life as a retail clerk). So Officer Jerkoff knew what he was doing and got what he asked for and I said all that to say this: That scene from The Sopranos was redone Monday night on The Big C: Hereafter (Season 4 Episode 3 HEREAFTER: QUALITY OF DEATH http://www.sho.com/sho/the-big-c/season/4/episode/3#/index) when Cathy got pulled over. There were differences of course. Cathy doesn't have connections that can get a cop fired. She has something better and more powerful. She's dying. She has nothing to lose and absolute freedom to say anything she wants, when it's most satisfying and she used it. She lived out every drivers' biggest fantasy by gleefully insulting the cop and laughing at the extra ticket it incurred. And then she proceeded to the hospice to prepare to die. Ah, well, nothing is ever perfect, is it? The one time when you want to continue living so you can keep enjoying your victory over the legal system that now has no power over you is also the same time you are checking yourself into hospice because your body is folding up faster than a house of cards in a hurricane. Of course, if you lived, you'd either have to pay the fines or go to court or to jail and who wants that? Maybe Dr. Sherman was onto something when he said that death is the only thing that makes living worthwhile, though when he said it, I had the same reaction to it that I always do whenever anyone says it: It's total rubbish. It was only later, when it was revealed that he was already dead when he said it that I said, "Yeah, Hawk, maybe you're right." And then I got upset that they killed Hawkeye Pierce. Because life too often imitates fiction. But what difference does it make if...And it is still a big if even given what we now know about things like time and what we call reality...life continues after death? Are there traffic cops on the other side that you can insult with complete immunity because you know that death is just another empty promise? And wouldn't some version of that be included in just about everyone's idea of what Heaven should be like? And since we create our own realities here, wouldn't it follow that we would create our own Heaven? On and on the questions go, getting more tangled and confused with every step. And don't bother bringing up how thoroughly we screwed up the creation of this reality and the implications that has for the Hereafter because I don't have an answer for that. All I know for sure is that Cathy is going to die Monday night. And I don't even know that. I looked at the ratings for this latest episode so I can say with reasonable certainty that the show will not be back but will Cathy die? There are still conflicting clues, hints and rumors coming from all directions and whatever ultimately happens will be a surprise. And however it ends and wherever Cathy ends up, at least she was allowed to have some fun with a cop that most of us will never get to have. Not even Tony Soprano. Current Mood: depressed Current Music: The Real Don Steele, KHJ Los Angeles May 25, 1968 Pt.3 (Comment on this)
Friday, May 17th, 2013
6:16 am	It's Friday, You Bastards We have our latest celebrity suicide (Retired NASCAR driver Dick Trickle dies of apparent self-inflicted wound http://www.cnn.com/2013/05/16/sport/motorsport/north-carolina-trickle-obit/?hpt=hp_t2) and as usual, most folks are asking stupid questions like, "Why?" instead of sane questions like, "Why not?" As usual, I don't want to offend or upset anyone so I'll limit my comments on the subject to this: If you're in the former camp, you've had enough drug laced Happy Meals. What you desperately need is a Super-Sized Reality Value Meal. And here it is: Life is not a gift, the inmates are running the asylum (If you need help recognizing them, they are the morons who keep saying things like, "Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem and all our problems would be solved if Jesus would just resurrect the 50 million babies we've aborted over the last 40 years so they could enjoy being unemployed and guys like Mitt Romney could continue enjoying being better off than the other 99%!") and suicide is a sane, rational response to the problem of being alive. You can keep saying that the Emperor is fully dressed if you want but it doesn't change the fact that life is not good, things don't get better and suicide solves all problems quickly, efficiently and forever. Painlessly, too, if you do it right. Now that I've accomplished my primary mission of not offending or upsetting you, let's go to Caracas. Seriously, right after the party tonight, you should go to Venezuela. I just got back from Caracas and I know you're thinking that it's just going to be another boring work story because the Chief never sends me to South America to do anything but topple governments or to prevent governments from being toppled but stop thinking that because it was different this time. This was a humanitarian aid trip that had very little to do with currency destabilization and/or artificially inducing hyper inflation. I took down two plane loads of toilet paper because they're having a little problem getting it at the moment (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/05/16/venezuela-toilet-paper-shortage_n_3285478.html?) and it was awesome. Do you remember going to Moscow and Leningrad in the 70's? It was a lot like that. You can get just about anything you want for a couple rolls of Quilted 4-Ply. I don't know about you but when I see hoards of suffering young women who desperately need Charmin and will do absolutely anything to get it, I know why the good Lord put me here. To help people. About the only down side is it's a little unsettling having to give the armed guard the right password just to get into your own bathroom. Like I needed to have another password to remember. About the only other downside is that you can't help everyone. But when that gets you down, it helps to remember what Mother Teresa once said, "We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop." Terri also once said, "If you can't wipe a hundred people, then wipe just one," but you don't have to take it quite that far if you don't want to. Limiting your charity to merely dispensing the rolls might impair your chances of gaining Sainthood but you'll still get into Heaven and there's a lot less cleanup involved. Anyway, the details of however much or little you want to do to ease the suffering of the people of Venezuela can wait, the important thing you need to do right now this very minute is to load up on Northern, get on a plane bound for Maiquetia International Airport and get started. But not until after the party. Which we'll get started right now with this, the Theme Drink that Fifi, my Sommelier, invented for tonight: -------------------------------- Paper Paradise Ingredients: 8 oz Bacardi 151 proof rum 2 oz Chocolate syrup (Hershey's) 2 oz Bailey's irish cream (optional) Mixing instructions: Pour ingredients in a blender, mix them together, and serve in a beer pilsner. -------------------------------- You might notice, after a sip or two, that this one has eight ounces of Bacardi 151 in it and after a couple more sips, you might think that's a little too much alcohol for one drink. Even for someone of your vast drinking experience. But Fifi insists that anyone who has heard my latest batch of stories about Caracas will need at least three of them just to maintain a nominal connection with reality. And don't bother trying to bribe her with Cottonelle either, because like all Americans her age, she's spoiled rotten. She's never had to live through a toilet paper shortage. Not even when she was growing up in Paris. Mr., we could really use a man like Joseph Stalin again. A few good purges, a food shortage or two and some time in a gulag would teach these kids what's important. You shouldn't have to go Tiffany's just to bribe your own servants when a quick trip to the paper goods aisle at Super Target should be more than sufficient! Mr. Gorbachev, teach these kids what's important and tear down that sign that says the ten items or less lane is closed!" Current Mood: depressed Current Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420 (Comment on this)
Monday, May 13th, 2013
7:07 am	Don't Give Me That Quaker In A Titty Bar Look Being alive is a crock of shit. --- Kilgore Trout I believe death is the ultimate freedom and I'd rather have my freedom as soon as I can get it. --- Jodi Arias I wish it was the Fourth Of July because I'm worried that our birthday party will pale in comparison to what's going on in America right now. First of all, our two latest instant mega celebrities, who are famous for murder and kidnapping, Jodi Arias and Ariel Castro are both on suicide watch...Because that's how we roll here. We value life so much that we abhor suicide, especially when it might interfere with a good murder (There are a lot of examples of this, here's one: http://www.acslaw.org/acsblog/node/15512)...because Arizona and Ohio might decide they want to kill them. Then, outside of prison, in Washington, where we keep our biggest criminals, the GOP is still trying to get traction with Benghazi (GOP ready to push Benghazi case into 2014, beyond http://news.yahoo.com/gop-ready-push-benghazi-case-2014-beyond-073214926.html). And just in case that doesn't work, they have the Tea Party/IRS Scandal (http://www.csmonitor.com/USA/DC-Decoder/2013/0512/IRS-tea-party-scandal-unlikely-to-fade-as-Congress-plans-investigations). And I understand that one to a point because the IRS is just a collection agency for the Federal Reserve that is even more outside the law than Monsanto and even when they attack things that should be attacked, it's still scary. But the Conservatives lost any sympathy they had from me when one of them said on the radio this morning that this Tea Party harassment thing should strike terror in the heart of every American. Because really? Think about what you have to fear from the government if you're a Liberal (The A List alone includes: Kent State, the killing of Jack, Bobby, Martin and Malcom X, Watergate and too many illegal wars to count) while the Conservatives have to worry about what? The Tea Party maybe losing its' tax exempt status? I know this is a blade that cuts both ways and someday there will be a George W. Bush clone in the White House but since there is nothing we can do about that, this is one of the very rare times I am supporting the IRS. Crush the Tea Party! Oh yeah, to be fair, the Conservatives are also worried we are somehow going to stop the marketing of guns to kids (Here's How the Rifle That Just Killed a 2-Year-Old Girl Is Marketed for Kids: http://www.motherjones.com/mojo/2013/05/crickett-rifle-marketing-kids). This is another good example of how we roll here. The only crime we consider more serious than treason is teens with fake ID's, because Jesus cries whenever a kid has a beer and we want five year old's to be armed. Because kids killing kids makes Jesus happy. So, anyway, that's why I think The Fourth Of July is going to be anticlimactic. We only get a few of these really good stories every year and we're using them all up now, in May. How are going to solve this problem? Wait a minute, I have an idea. Let's borrow some interesting news from next year and use it in July! Why didn't I think of this sooner? It works flawlessly with money so why it couldn't it work with good news cycles? We'll have to use some caution so we don't get carried away with the borrowing and end up with a future that's completely empty because some physicists say time is finite so this isn't a bottomless well we can just endlessly plunder but we are so good at self control that I don't see that being an issue. OK, that settles it! No more slow news days! When one hits, we'll just take entertaining items from the future! I suppose I'll get another Nobel Prize for this idea and I'll have to build a new display case to hold it but you didn't come here to hear my problems so let me address your primary concern: Kilgore Trout is not one of our latest instant celebrities. I used him in the quotes section because Ariel Castro hasn't said anything yet that has really grabbed me (See what I did there? I said grabbed because Ariel is famous for kidnapping. You don't think it's funny? It's sophisticated high brow humor that is evidently a little over your head, so forget it) and also because there seems to have been a Time Quake in 1997 that allowed Kilgore to borrow news from us and I think we should start charging him interest. I want to point out though, that we are entitled to use news from our future interest free because it just seems fair. And now, just to strengthen my already air-tight case, here is the full Life Is A Crock quote: ----------------------------------------------- That there are such devices as firearms, as easy to operate as cigarette lighters and as cheap as toasters, capable at anybody's whim of killing Father or Fats or Abraham Lincoln or John Lennon or Martin Luther King, Jr., or a woman pushing a baby carriage, should be proof enough for anybody that being alive is a crock of shit. ----------------------------------------------- Wow. If Sylvia Browne was even 1/4 that good at seeing the future, she wouldn't be in any trouble now. On the other hand, we can't charge her any interest for borrowing our news so is she really the smart one? And that neatly wraps up everything for today. Except for the title, which isn't a mystery at all if you saw Veep last night (http://www.hbo.com/veep/index.html) and if you have seen it you know that Selina had a much better time in Helsinki than I usually do. Current Mood: depressed Current Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420 (Comment on this)
Sunday, May 12th, 2013
9:48 am	The Cubs Kill Another Fan There's nothing out of the ordinary about the Chicago Cubs killing their fans because it happens every time they play but before I tell you about the latest instance which is a bit unusual, I went to assure all you Cubs fans out there that I feel your pain. I love the Yankees...Not enough to bore myself to death by watching them play but enough to know that the Multi-Verse is hopelessly out of balance when they lose...and they have not won the World Series since 2009. Reggie Jackson, Whitey Ford, Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, Lou Gehrig, Joe DiMaggio and Babe Ruth are all spinning in their graves. Except for Reggie, Whitey and Yogi because they don't have graves yet and are forced to be here and endure all this humiliation, just like me. So if you live in Chicago and even if you don't because it only seems like Chicago has the market on insanity cornered but it doesn't because plenty of you live outside the Windy City, don't think I don't know how you feel because I do. So don't go overreacting and thinking I'm dissing you, your city or your team when I say innocent, non-provocative things like, "Most Chicagoans would rather choke to death than go through another nine innings of watching the Cubs play." And some of them, like Maureen Oleskiewicz, are brave enough to put their hot dogs where their mouths are (http://sports.yahoo.com/blogs/mlb-big-league-stew/teacher-28-dies-choking-hot-dog-wrigley-field-211543867.html). If you were smart enough to see what's right in front of your big fat face, you'd know that I have nothing but respect and sympathy for you, Chicago and your second rate Little League team that's trying to make it in the Bigs. I'm even more fair and balanced than that because I'm going out on a limb and saying that I don't think, like most of the other Medical Examiners that I could mention but won't, that Maureen's heart attack was caused by the obscenely overpriced and fatally under-flavored hot dog and therefore, in my opinion, she's not the first victim in the newly opened concessions front in the Cub's war on its' fans. In my humble medical opinion, she had the heart attack first (Because the Cubs were about to start playing) and choking on the hot dog was just a secondary by-product of cardiac arrest. You might not want to believe me because I'm just a simple country gynecologist, not a fancy big city heart doctor with a wall full of store bought degrees but I hope you're wise enough to take my medical advice if I ever tell you to put on a paper dress and scoot to the edge of the table. That's the saddest part of being a doctor. I can lead girls to stirrups but I can't make'em put their feet in them. I hope ObamaCare corrects that but I ain't holding my breath. You know, some days it just don't pay to get out of bed. Most of the time, you'd be better off just calling in sick and ending it all by going to a Cub's game. Unless you don't want your last meal to be an overpriced hot dog. I guess the moral of the story is that you can't win. No matter what. Especially if you're a Cub's fan. But don't forget it ain't no picnic for us Yankee fans either. At least in New York, we do have a mayor who cares, though. When Mike saw this tragic story from Chicago, he said, "We can't risk that happening here. I hereby ban heart attacks. And hot dogs. And just in case that isn't enough, baseball is out, too." So, cheer up, Chicago because not only am I on your side but now that Mike's ridding the Big Apple of baseball, you're going to have a better year than the Mets and the Yankees. You never thought you'd live long enough to see that happen, did you? And you just might survive this season. As long as you don't go to any games. Current Mood: depressed Current Music: The Real Don Steele, KHJ Los Angeles May 25, 1968 Pt.3 (Comment on this)
Friday, May 10th, 2013
5:54 am	It's Friday, You Bastards This is a great week for Michael Shermer (http://www.michaelshermer.com/) because the world has been shown once again that Sylvia Browne is a complete fraud (http://www.foxnews.com/entertainment/2013/05/09/celebrity-psychic-sylvia-browne-under-fire-for-telling-amanda-berrys-mom-was/). For you kids who don't know who Mike is, he's just like Penn & Teller (http://www.sho.com/sho/penn-and-teller-bullshit/home) in that he is very very very very good at exposing fakes but he isn't very good at seeing what is obviously coming. But he is so good at what he does and has so much charm and charisma in addition to all the acerbic things he keeps saying about religion that we forgive him his few faults. Even those of us who believe in a lot of the things that Mike calls bunk because we know that many things, including but not limited to ESP and magic are real (And don't take my word for it. Hang out with a Particle Physicist for a week or two and then reevaluate everything you believe and don't believe. And if you can figure out a logical mundane explanation that stands up to scrutiny for Spooky Action At A Distance that doesn't turn everything upside down, please come and talk to me because you have a lot of answers that I need but if all you can do is point out all the charlatans on Coast, no thanks, cause I can do that myself) but you just aren't going to find them in anyone who's trying to sell a book. Additionally, we know that there is hope for Mike. Because George Carlin told Art Bell in 1999 that he allowed for the possibility of an Afterlife. If you don't know George, that might not seem like much to you but if he has been your comedic idol since 1964, as he was to me, you know that for him to say that is roughly equivalent to the Pope announcing that there is no God. And if George can do it, so can Mike. Here is that interview (George Carlin Radio Interview with Art Bell - 1999: http://www.liveleak.com/view?i=407_1215028805) if you're interested and you should be. So, anyway, to get back on topic before my Agent has a cow, if you're keeping score at home, it's currently Michael Shermer 1000004984 and Sylvia Browne 0. Unless you count the time she predicted the Pope would die and he did, because it's so hard to know that a guy in poor health with a high stress job in his 80's is going to die. There's another one she got right that was just as hard to divine but I can't remember what it was right now. And if you're a cold reading fan, I have to admit that she is one of the best. As long as her victim goes along with everything she says. And she has been banned from Coast To Coast AM, which I marvel at because it's nearly impossible. I mean, come on, the guy (I can't remember his name. I could look it up but you would never learn anything if I did all your homework) who comes on every single time and talks about how horrible the world is for three and a half hours and then finishes up with a diatribe about how abortion is bad because everyone should be entitled to enjoy all the greatness here is still a regular guest in good standing. Then there's Mary Ann, The Ghost Whisperer (http://www.maryannwinkowski.com/), who is also in the Cold Reading Hall Of Fame and who is always willing to tell you everything the dead have to say right up until you ask something that would readily prove that she isn't putting you on, at which point she suddenly gets insulted and says, "It doesn't work like that. So just shut up and buy my book." And she, too, is a regular guest in good standing. There are countless others, too, and the bottom line is that it's very difficult to get banned from Coast, so you should admire Sylvia for that, if nothing else. Speaking of nothing else, despite there being a ton of other things to talk about today, I'm suddenly running on empty for some reason. Call it a dry spell or even writer's block if you want but the result is that I'm out of things to say. Even though there are plenty of things left to say and that's God's way of saying, "Cue Fifi, your Sommelier, cause you need a drink." And who am I to defy a direct commandment from an imaginary being? Especially when His second notice always comes in the form of a burning bush and that always leads to nothing but trouble from Smokey Bear and his goon squad down at the Fire Control Board. And His third notice is always handwriting on the wall and I already have enough problems with the Graffiti Control Commission. Those guys are almost as annoying as the New Jersey Casino Control Commission because they still won't let me build the Nucky Thompson Memorial Clothing Optional All Suites Casino Resort And Brothel. So next time you get bored in Atlantic City, don't blame me. Your best course of action is to simply give up and have a lot of these, the Theme Drink that Fifi invented for tonight: ----------------------------------------- Fragile Fortune Teller Ingredients: 4 oz Coffee 2 oz Frangelico 2 oz Kahlua Whipped cream Cherry Mixing instructions: Mix liquor ingredients, then add coffee to fill. Top off with whip cream and a cherry. Serve right away. ----------------------------------------- Oh wow. What can you say about two great tastes like coffee and alcohol? That they taste great together? Well, sure, you could say that unless you wanted to be honest. In that case, you'd have to say you'd rather drink spoiled rug cleaning fluid mixed with old turpentine. Or go on a Carnival Cruise. But don't say no to the whipped cream, because it's always good. Especially when you're playing Strip Fortune Telling. Remember, you don't have to be a genuine psychic to play. This is a game for everyone. It doesn't matter if you're real or fake, a skeptic or a believer. You will get extra points and be allowed to keep some of your clothes on if you can freak everyone out by knowing something that you could not possibly know through ordinary means but it's not required. Making history tonight would be great but it's not our primary goal. We are just here to have fun and fun we will have! So ladies, put on your uniforms (http://www.partycity.com/product/adult+sexy+fortune+teller+costume.do) and come out predicting! May the best Spiritualist win! Current Mood: depressed Current Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420 (Comment on this)
Wednesday, May 8th, 2013
5:35 am	Question Everything This morning gives us another concrete reason to mistrust the police, question the entire criminal justice system and demand the end of the death penalty and private prisons. As if we didn't already have enough reasons. You can add criticize The Liberal Drive-By Media to that list, too. And the reason can be summed up in two words: Matthew Hurayt (http://openchannel.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/05/07/18111491-sex-offender-briefly-accused-of-killing-kidnap-victim-wants-cleveland-apology?lite). Before I begin laying out my reasoning for all the mistrusting, questioning and demanding, I want to assure all of you who think the terms police, criminal justice system, death penalty, private prisons and criminal justice system are mostly coded dog whistles that actually mean little old, senile, God fearing, racist ladies who are afraid of their own shadows and demonstrate their lack of mental health by being against abortion while supporting the sale of guns to toddlers and wishing that underage drinking was a capital crime, that you are absolutely right. If you want a one click experience that will give you someone who embodies all those traits, check out my Favorite Local Conservative Crackpot: http://www.woc1420.com/pages/JimFisher.html. If this were the Price Is Right, you'd be going home with both showcases. But don't despair, because you're getting something better. Many better things, as a matter of fact, starting with: If Matthew Hurayt lived in Texas, there is a reasonably good chance that he would be on death row right now because that's how they roll in the Lone Star State (Official Report Reveals Misconduct by Texas Crime Lab in Death Penalty Case http://www.deathpenaltyinfo.org/node/1727), if there isn't enough evidence for a conviction, the lab supplies it. Now let's take a look at Matthew Hurayt himself and what you might think about him if you just read the latest story about him. It says that he was convicted for the sexual battery of two children and what does that mean? Most often it means that the perp had a completely consensual relationship with someone who was not yet 18 and there was no actual battery. Maybe not so in this case, because with a little more digging, I found another article that says he molested two young boys. Again, these boys could have been 17 and there was no molesting going on but this other article also says that he was found guilty of theft, fraud, kidnapping and beating a man with a hammer so now I'm more inclined to think the children were actually victims (http://www.cleveland.com/naymik/index.ssf/2012/04/sorting_out_truth_poses_challe.html). I even think that if I did more digging and found out more about him, I might even feel that he should still be in jail. I would also stand a good chance of finding out that a DA and judge feel the same way but he had to be released to make room for some kid who was caught smoking pot. All because people like Jim Fisher still have a voice in how we do things. So you can't say that I'm on Matthew Hurayt's side, per say or even that I'm especially sympathetic to him. Nor can you say that I'm especially unsympathetic with the police because I understand their side of it. They had a girl who was missing and presumed dead and they had a tip that Matt did it, so they had to do something. And I even applaud their honesty in admitting that they found nothing. What makes me angry is that they didn't apologize right away and are balking at it even now. I am also upset that they turned a blind eye to all the harassment he was receiving. So want I want from Cleveland is for them to give him the apology he wants and the $20,000 he asked for to cover the damage to his property. And now for the most important thing, which is what I want from the Press and it can be summed up in one word: Honesty. If someone is accused of rape or molestation, give me the legal specifics but then also tell me what is actually going on. If the "Victim" really isn't a victim at all, except legally, tell me so. I am tired of reading about things like this and assuming that nothing wrong happened but the act just happened to be against the law when sometimes there really was something bad going on. Call rape rape and stupid legal technicalities stupid legal technicalities and let the public make up its' own mind about them because what you're doing now just cheapens and dilutes the issue and makes things even worse for genuine victims. Stop telling me that a 17 year old who's dating a 20 year old is a rape victim. Tell me it's illegal, because it is. But don't call him or her a victim. And for God's sake stop calling it rape because it isn't. Save that for people who really get hurt. No matter what age they are. Stop making me believe that real victims aren't victims. Your job is to tell the truth, the whole truth, not to protect people from it. And the problem is hardly begins and ends with sex crimes. Last night, for example, Charles Krauthammer said (Again) in his column that there is no Global Warming. And that's fine. If a retard wants to write a column and you want to publish it, that's your business but I think that you have an obligation to add a postscript of a couple of short paragraphs explaining how Chuck is completely out of his mind. You don't even have to be haughty about it. All you have to do is present actual dissenting facts from actual dissenting scientists and then maybe add that the 2% of the "Scientists" who say there is no Global Warming all work for the oil companies. And if you want to tell me that seat belts save lives, that's fine too. But you have an obligation to tell me every time someone dies in a car crash while wearing their seat belt. And how many people survive just fine when they aren't wearing the belts. And how your best chance to avoid dying in a car crash is forgetting the seat belts and just slowing down and not driving like an idiot. And how collecting all those fines costs way more than it generates and how the whole thing is a sham because no lives are really being saved. I could go on and on with further examples but I'll just sum it up with this: I am sick and tired of listening to newspapers whine and cry about how they keep losing readers and they can't make any money while every single day they give me dozens of reasons to cancel my subscriptions. And I am getting very close to doing it. Most days it just doesn't pay to not be Amish. At least as far as the print and electronic media are concerned. And I really have nothing more to say about all this, at least not right now but since Focus Groups indicate that most folks want a coherent ending that neatly wraps everything up, I'll close with these thoughts: Question and doubt everything. Cleveland, pay up and say you're sorry. And newspapers, start doing your job! And if you can't do that, stop whining and crying about how everyone is abandoning you. Current Mood: depressed Current Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420 (Comment on this)
Tuesday, May 7th, 2013
6:37 am	Can You Be Evolved In A Bad Way? We knew it was going to happen but it was still a bit of a shock when Cathy started looking and acting for the first time like she is in fact going to die (The Big C Season 4 Episode 2 HEREAFTER: YOU CAN'T TAKE IT WITH YOU: http://www.sho.com/sho/the-big-c/season/4/episode/2#/index). Anything can still happen, because this is after all, TV and her doctor is Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce (He goes by a different name here but he is Hawkeye) but TV sometimes kills people we like (Including but not limited to Henry Blake) and Hawkeye did occasionally lose a patient. And Hawk has cancer himself. Could there be a more ominous sign than that? Yes, the pieces all add up to Cathy losing this fight, which will be great for her---Look at what death did for Marlene---but not so good for us because what are we going to watch on Monday nights now? But the last episode is two weeks away so it would be pretty stupid to worry about anything that far in the distant future, wouldn't it? It'd be like doing your Christmas shopping before December 24 on the outside chance that we won't all be killed by a meteor first or the Godless Hippie Liberals won't finally win the War On Christmas. So let's leave our survival bunkers and just concentrate on the joy of being in the here and now. Where we get to watch Cathy die. But not for two more whole episodes. Unless God, or one of His superiors, a Showtime Executive, decides to order another season. So anything can happen but what matters is what's happening. And we might as well start with Adam. Because once again he has been thrust into a Hank Moody like situation but this time it didn't blow up in his face, like it usually does for him and it always does for Hank. He did and said all the right things and it actually paid off. He got a good grade on the test and he deflowered his tutor. I hope all you kids out there who are considering suicide are paying attention because it just goes to show that sometimes the writers are on your side. Hardly ever but it does happen. Sometimes. Probably never for you but don't give up hope. Especially if you're suicidal AND need a kidney, because Sean has your back. So to speak. IF they decide that he's sane enough to donate the kidney he doesn't need. And I suppose that should be our next talking point: Should you be allowed to donate a vital organ to anyone who happens to need it even if you have a history of mental illness? Sean made some good points but so did Cathy and the lady at the donation place. He thinks that it's the only way he can help someone, anyone, who needs it right now and otherwise, he feels powerless to do anything while the opposition says that it is a big irreversible step that he may one day regret. Whose side are you on? Personally, it feels to me like the Christmas shopping dilemma all over again. What if you donate your kidney and Christmas never comes? Then again, do you really need your other kidney? Even on Christmas? I don't know about you but I need some testimony from a reliable fortune teller or time traveler before I can rule on this on. So let's get back to kids who are feeling suicidal by taking a look at Andrea. She doesn't seem suicidal but imagine all the kids just like her who have an experience with a teacher like she did with Isaac Mizrahi and then go kill themselves, which doesn't bother me because I say you have a 99.99% chance of going somewhere better than here if you kill yourself but I know it really bothers a lot of you, so why don't we talk about it for a minute? And I don't mean to seem confrontational here but why, if you really are so against suicide, do you not only tolerate but even encourage and celebrate what people like Isaac do? And sure, he reconsidered and later did what he should have done in the first place but most of the time, people like him don't. And when a kid who has been through something like that comes to you and says she wants to kill herself, your first response is always, "You're stupid. You're insane. Because this is awesome. But since you're too crazy to see that, I'm going to have a quack lie to you for $100/hour and give you a lot of drugs that will fix everything. By making you suicidal." Forgive me if this sounds cynical but I think you're way more in favor of kids killing themselves than I am. Especially you death mongering morons who vote for Republicans. But since we didn't come here today to talk about politics and Andrea recovered nicely from her little ordeal, let's shift gears and tackle the next and final moral question for this week: If you're dying, should you fix up your husband with your replacement? And even if you should, what's the point if the series is ending in two episodes and we'll never see her naked anyway? Still, let's assume that this Universe won't end the minute after Cathy dies and if that's so and it does go on, even though we can no longer see it, is Paul going to be better off trusting Cathy's match-making skills? All the evidence so far says Maybe. But I would say to Paul: Sleep with Amber first because she really seems to be into you. Even though she didn't show up this week. What's up with that? Anyway, the point is that he has two episodes left to get her naked and I hope he doesn't let us down. And that we've covered everything, I'll let get back to studying chemistry or whatever else you were doing. Current Mood: depressed Current Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420 (Comment on this)
Monday, May 6th, 2013
7:26 am	It's 06 De Mayo, You Bastards I had what you might call an unusual dream last night. Some of you call all my dreams unusual but we don't have time to pander to the Idiot Watch List, so we'll skip you and just tell everyone else what happened in this dream. It was 1978 and I was in Junior High...So far, it's entirely 100% historically accurate...and the day was progressing normally just as they all did in those days until around noon when there was an announcement about a special event in the auditorium. This is where the dream veers a bit from being 100% historically accurate, because after everyone gathered in the auditorium, the Principal came out and said a few of the expected lame things about how running in the halls and being late to class would ultimately cause the collapse of western civilization and how he would have to put it on our permanent records if we caused the end of the world but then he said something no one expected, "Mesdames Et Monsieurs, Les Rolling Stones!" Then Fanfare For The Common Man began blaring from the loudspeakers as Mick, Keith, Ronnie, Bill and Charlie took the stage and launched into Honky Tonk Women. And I know you kids are thinking, "What's unusual about that? Except that no Junior High can afford to pay teachers, let alone The Rolling Stones but if it were a corporate retreat or something, it would be perfectly normal," but you're forgetting that the 1970's were a different time and place. Back then, rock stars paid their dues by slaving away in tiny clubs and private events and they all vowed that once they hit the big time they would never again put themselves through that (Except for that one time in 1973 when Gomez Addams hired the Partridge Family to play just for him: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0670150/). That lasted until sometime in the 1990's when most of them had a change of heart and said, "Screw it. If the check clears and you can get the red toilet paper, we'll play anywhere." And now you have Elton John performing at Rush Limbuagh's wedding and I've seen Sting at more weddings, Bar Mitzvahs, Bat Mitzvahs, birthday and housewarming parties than I care to count. Not to mention Madonna at several bachelor parties. I even had to stop going to grocery store openings because I can't take seeing Huey Lewis And The News again. Et al but you get the idea. Suffice to say, what passes for normal these days would not have been the least bit normal in 1978. Especially when you consider that Mick and Keith were smoking and saying lots of words that weren't allowed anywhere near any school in those days. Not that those rules ever stopped anyone from smoking or swearing but no one did it on stage in front of the entire administration and faculty (Not even Rick Ruiz, who one day in English class got tired of being harassed by the teacher, Miss Moylan, and looked up and said, "Leave me the Hell alone, bitch!" No one ever saw Rick again. There was a rumor that he had been shipped off to a secret prison run by the CIA in Cuba and that seemed absurd until around 2002, when it suddenly seemed plausible). But that wasn't all, because this dream took one step even beyond that. Besides the Stones themselves and their backup, Billie Preston, Ollie Brown and Ian Stewart, there was someone else with them. Brian Jones. I know you kids have never heard of him and don't really care who he was so I'll make this part brief. He was a founding member of the Rolling Stones (And is still considered to be one of the best guitarists who ever lived) but then he was fired from the band. Right before he died. In 1967. So no one ever expected him to appear with them ever again. At least I didn't. Everyone else seemed OK with it while I was left feeling that it was somehow surreal and impossible. Just like when the Supreme Court said, "Get used to calling George W. Bush, Mr. President." Or when they proved that entangled particles do in fact exist (Not that we should have ever doubted Albert Einstein but until it was proven, it did seem unlikely). But since this was 1978 and no dangerously unstable illiterate cowboy had ever stolen the presidency before and we still didn't have the technology to prove that everything that can't happen does happen all the time, I wasn't used to completely impossible things happening. And it was unsettling. To say the least. To say the most, it was unsettling in a good way (Which is extremely rare for unsettling experiences because they usually tend to be unsettling in a bad way) because it was one of the best concerts I have ever seen. To say even more than the most, this was...Well, I guess you could call it a dream with benefits. Not the wild, kinky kind of benefits you're thinking about but the kind just one level below them, the kind that make money. Well, I don't know for sure that it will make money because these things are impossible to predict but when I told my agent, Drusilla, about the dream and how it's going to form the basis for the next novel I'm not going to write, she was thrilled and that's always a good sign. She said, "It's about time you came up with something commercial that also has movie potential, after your last dismal failure." She was referring to my last book, which was called Fried And Rippled, which is, if I may say so myself, a brilliant 43 volume history of the potato chip and I reminded her how much my fans and the critics loved it and she said, "One five star review on Amazon from a retired potato farmer in Boise who's suffering from dementia does not a critical success make. And the section on what chips pair best with what wines was just daft. Even to me. And what do I know about fine food and wine? I was born in England for God's sake! What's worse is that a lot of people think you killed Roger Ebert because he gave up fighting the cancer when it occurred to him that some idiot in Hollywood might turn it into a movie." It was a textbook of example of the old axiom, "Those who can't write become agents (Or editors but don't get me started on my editor because she's another jealous big mouth that should just stay closed) and then remain bitterly jealous of all of us who can." So I reminded her to hold her tongue because it sold 500,489 copies, which wasn't my best sales number but it was respectable and I didn't hear her do any complaining when she was collecting her obscenely big big piece of the royalties, to which she answered, "Selling 500,488 copies that were expressly used as gag gifts plus one to a retired farmer with Alzheimer's is nothing to brag about! And if you weren't a racist thug, I would never have allowed it to be published in the first place." She thinks I'm a bigot because I rarely have a meeting with her without my Slayers being there. She calls it racial profiling and says I wouldn't do it if she wasn't a vampire. But it's not true. The truth is that I just like having Buffy and Faith around. Especially when I'm dealing with a short tempered vampire with a bad attitude who suffers from chronic PMS and has already killed more than 500 people because she's so frustrated over her inability to write. Be that as it may, we amicably set aside our differences and agreed that this one is a good idea and worked out the plot parameters and set a deadline. The basic plot is this, in a small town somewhere in the Midwest in 1978, an eccentric old man (Back in the 70's we called crazy old people senile, unless they had money, in which case they were promoted to eccentric) wins a huge amount of money in the lottery...Not a lot of states had the lottery back then but Illinois did and that's good enough, even though the story is set in Iowa because Illinois is right across the river...and decides to exercise his new power and wealth by hiring the Rolling Stones to play a concert for the Junior High and the ensuing chaos it creates. Think Cold Turkey (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0066927/) meets Almost Famous (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0181875/) with liberal nods to Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Cheech And Chong's Next Movie and Airplane thrown in for good nature. And, of course, there will be a an irate gas station attendant who will serve as a tribute to both Jonathan Winters and Stanley Kramer and if I get creative control for the movie, he will be played by Robbin Williams. Unless Robbin is too expensive, in which case we'll just call Central Casting again. I wanted to include a large supernatural/paranormal subplot involving a strange dream that explores the theory that meeting a dead person in a dream means that the person was actually there but that's out now because Buffy said it wasn't necessary and she was also worried that it could potentially be distracting. Because she obviously has PMS, too. The one thing everyone agreed on is that historical fantasy is one of the things I do best. Even people suffering from PMS are smart enough to see that. Speaking of historical fantasies, I just saw Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter and I proclaim it heavily flawed but interesting enough that you should see it anyway. Now that you have a movie to watch, I'll go because I have a novel to write. Then I have to adapt the screenplay from it. I'm gonna be up all night. Current Mood: depressed Current Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420 (Comment on this)
Saturday, May 4th, 2013
7:48 am	Welcome To The Kingdom Of The Peds Last night, Bill Maher called the Apostolic Palace of Castel Gandolfo, which is the summer residence of the Pope---If you've never been there, just think Camp David because they are very similar---Club Ped. That was the best line in the monologue but since this isn't my Real Time review, which I usually do on Thursdays, we won't dwell on it. What we will do is not change direction or velocity but we will change lanes and proclaim the USA as Kingdom Of The Peds. If you think that's harsh or unfair, I give you Exhibit A, Sarah Palin and her speech last night about how the Democrats are exploiting dead kids in order to steal her guns (http://nbcpolitics.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/05/03/18041201-republican-politicians-pay-tribute-to-nra-clout-at-annual-meeting?lite). As usual, Sarah is just parroting what her masters have told her to say, long after they have told all their other slaves to say the same thing but since she is the most recent of the retards to say it, she gets all the credit. To add insult to injury and to paraphrase something Randi Rhodes said yesterday, "We are through the Looking Glass, man. Up is down, black is white and truth is lies," Sarah actually had me partially on her side when she brought out the pack of cigarettes to protest Mike Bloomberg. Just like she did at CPAC, with the Big Gulp. Anyway, Sarah's main point was that all these kids that keep getting killed shouldn't stop her buddies who make guns from making more money. Her minor point, the one that she is actually right about, is that Mike Bloomberg is crazy and should be locked up in a rubber room but that's another topic for another day so we'll move right onto Exhibit B: "My First Rifle," from Keystone Sporting Arms in Milton, PA (http://money.cnn.com/2013/05/03/news/companies/guns-children/). Prior to this week, I bet a lot of you, just like me, didn't know that there was a company making guns for toddlers and marketing those guns to them. Oh, I'm sorry. That's not what they're doing. Here, let's have John Renzulli, an attorney for Keystone Sporting Arms set the record straight, "No one's marketing to children, they're marketing to parents who would buy guns for children." Got that? All you Drive-By Hippie Gun Taking Liberals? They're marketing to parents, not kids! Who then give these deadly weapons to kids. Which makes it 100% Kosher. Just like the ham you had for dinner last Sunday! And don't you dare try to twist everything around and make it sound bad by exploiting that two year old girl in Kentucky who went to Heaven because God wanted her there (http://www.latimes.com/news/nation/nationnow/la-na-nn-kentucky-boy-accidental-fatal-shooting-sister-20130501,0,2768797.story)! It has nothing to do with the bullet that killed her or the gun that fired it! And what happens now that we know that there is a company marketing guns to kids? My prediction is that nothing will change. The protests that have already started will continue (And will flare up every time one of the sure to happen tragedies happen until they become as common as school shootings and then we really won't care anymore) but every Christmas, Walmart will have a huge display of My First Rifles and parents will keep buying them. Oh sure, we'll keep protecting kids. By doing things like arresting them for doing things like making gun shapes with their fingers because it keeps everyone safe and it's good for our private prison industry. You know what they say. Get a six year old used to being arrested and you have him for life. There is a bigger, darker, more ominous reason for it as well but since I have hit my quota for being called a conspiracy nut for this lifetime, as well as the next twelve, I'll save my breath on that and confine myself to what little is on the table where everyone can clearly see it. Starting with the 90% of all Americans who want background checks but won't get them---Because they are bad for business---and how that brings us back to kids (They aren't the only pawns in this chess game but they are the most vulnerable and they are affected more than everyone else) and my assertion that we are The Kingdom Of The Peds. You can split hairs if you want and say that this particular argument isn't about sex, not at least not exclusively and I would have to give you that but I would also have to add that exploiting children is exploiting children, be it for dirty pictures or for selling them guns and whatever else and given the scary cachet the word has developed, we would be better served if we expanded the definition of pedophilia to include all forms of exploitation and I am so old that I don't have time to wait for you to sign off on it so I am unilaterally doing it on my own. When Mr. and Mrs. God Fearing Conservative can stand up at a meeting alongside Mr. and Mrs. Bleeding Heart Liberal and say, "Hello, I'm Fred, this is my wife Ethel, and we're Pedophiles," we will be able to at least start making progress. Until that day when we admit we have a problem instead of simply yelling at each other about issues that we keep carefully separated because we don't want to admit that they are all just symptoms of one big frightening disease that we are all making worse with everything we do and don't do while at the same allowing guys like Mitt Romney to make money off both ends of it, we will simply be The Kingdom Of The Peds. And we won't be able to blame anyone for it but ourselves, not even Sarah Palin because she's just an idiot who is just smart enough to profit from our stupidity. At this point, I was going to bridge the gap between everything I have just said and the new "Surprising" data about suicide rates with a discussion of what we call child abuse and what we don't call child abuse, including but not limited to my favorite stat about the 16.7 million children who lived in food insecure households in 2011 and how we never do anything about that except provide lots of lip service...No food but lots of lip service...but I won't because my Editor-In-Chief says this is already long enough and who am I to argue with that? Besides, I have better things to do. Like figuring out just who is making the most money from selling guns to little kids for another article. And it ain't easy. I tell you, if you're bored with trying to figure out Area 51, the Bermuda Triangle, who killed JFK and who built the Pyramids and want a real challenge, try figuring out who owns all the big gun companies (All except Ruger (Sturm, Ruger & Company RGR) because it's the only one that's publicly traded and they were up 89 cents yesterday so you could just buy a bunch of their shares and call it a day). Current Mood: depressed Current Music: The Real Don Steele, KHJ Los Angeles May 25, 1968 Pt.3 (Comment on this)
Friday, May 3rd, 2013
5:22 am	It's Friday, You Bastards Because I'll tell you this right now: If Barack Obama becomes the president in November, again, I will either be dead or in jail by this time next year. Why are you laughing? Do you think that's funny? That's not funny at all. I'm serious as a heart attack. ~~~~Ted Nugent, April 14, 2012 at the NRA National Convention in St. Louis Howdy, y'all! The NRA is starting it's big 2013 convention today. This year it's in Houston, which is a big risk. It's kind of like holding the Girls Only Nudist Association Convention at the Playboy Mansion. Or the Catholics Only Association Convention at the Vatican. Yep, they are a bunch of big brave bad stone-cold hell-raisin' bad mofo's who are afraid of nothing and are more than qualified to hang out with Uncle Ted---the biggest and bravest of them all, the guy who wore diapers and simmered in his own wastes for weeks to avoid going to Vietnam---because where Ted comes from, being good isn't enough. Good" sucks! And I am wondering, what Ted is going to say on Sunday. He's appearing in the George R. Brown Convention Center, Hall A-3. I can't find the time or the opening act...I assume it's going to be Donny And Marie or maybe Vanilla Ice but I've heard nothing concrete from the promoter yet...but I hope they play Cat Scratch Fever first. And then I hope Ted explains why he isn't dead and/or in jail. Maybe he'll just yell at them for allowing the Negro to win again. He actually foreshadowed that last year when he said, "And in order to be one stone-cold, hell-raisin' bad mofo, each and every one of you -- if you can't get a couple of hundred people each, each of you -- some of you, I bet you can get a couple thousand. Your goal should be to be able to get a couple of thousand people, per person who's here, to vote for Mitt Romney in November." Or maybe he'll good good-naturedly forgive them because they are so stupid they know not what they do and turn his attention to Carnell Moore, the man who kicked off the convention yesterday by shooting himself in Terminal B at Bush International Airport yesterday (http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-201_162-57582624/1-killed-in-houston-airport-shooting/). He's a NRA Hero now because he graphically demonstrated that guns don't kill people by being killed by one. Or maybe Ted will play one of the Republican's favorite golden oldies. The one that goes a little something like this: "My heart and my best intentions still tell me that's true, I did keep my word and I am dead and in jail but the facts and the evidence tell me it is not." The one thing you can be sure of is that Ted will put on a good show. As long as you've had enough Oxy. They don't call it Hillbilly Heroin' and Ted's Little Audience Helper for nothin', you know. I suspect that it may have played a role in the opening ceremony at Terminal B yesterday, too, but don't quote me on that because until I do the fact checking at TMZ, it's just a guess. I didn't mean to spend all that time on having fun at the NRA's, Ted Nugent's and the GOP's expense but it's not my fault. Those jokes are just like Lay's Potato Chips. And breasts. Once you pop one in your mouth, you just can't stop. So you see, this is an addiction, an illness, if you will, not unbridled self-indulgence. Speaking of unbridled self-indulgence, is anyone ready for a drink yet? I reckon you are. I even reckon Ted is thinkin' long and hard about having his first ever drink today what with his big speech on Sunday barreling down on him and him still being alive and all. He's got a good forty acres of explainin' to do. Luckily for you and Ted, Fifi, my Sommelier, has been up all night, inventing this, tonight's Theme Drink: -------------------------------------------- The Texas Bull Shot Ingredients: 1 1/2 oz Vodka 3 oz Beef bouillon, chilled 1 dash Worcestershire sauce 1 dash Salt 1 dash Black pepper Mixing instructions: Shake with ice and strain into an old fashioned glass. Garnish with a Jalapeno and chase it with a Lone Star, y'all! -------------------------------------------- Now, without further adieu, let's get to tonight's featured Party Game: Binders Full Of Girls Dressed Like Commandos And Totin' Those Cool Guns That Look Like AK's And Shoot Vodka That They Had On House Of Lies A While Back. I don't mean to rush you or anything but you gotta drink and play fast because the other big surprise is that we're going to Houston and we gotta get there quick. The NRA Country Jam III starts at six and we don't want to be late. The Eli Young Band and Kevin Fowler are going to playing tonight and yeah, I've never heard of them either but they must be good or they wouldn't be playing the NRA Convention. I've also heard rumors that the Dixie Chicks are going to be there, too, to perform Not Ready To Make Nice and Lubbock or Leave It before giving their review of the George W. Bush Presidential Center. That's the real reason we're going but even if the Chicks don't show up, the trip will still be worth it because right after the concert, we're going to Whataburger. Because no trip to Texas is complete without a couple of Triple Meat Whataburgers. And then? Well, I've saved the best for last. We're gonna visit the Wall Of Guns! Oh wait, it closes at 6 (http://www.nraam.org/special-events/nra-foundation-wall-of-guns.aspx). I guess we'll have to go there first, before the concert. Normally I'd complain about them rolling up the sidewalks at sunset but seeing as how most of the NRA members are over 80, I guess I can't squawk too much. And they've been saving their gas rationing coupons since 1943 just so they could drive down to Houston for this big shindig. So we'll just find something else to do. I guess this is why Jesus gave us All You U Can Eat Crawfish night at The Men's Club (http://www.mensclub.com/party-pics). But that stops at 8, too. Does anyone else want to just go to Vegas instead? Current Mood: depressed Current Music: Morning Show With Mark And Steve---WOC AM 1420 (Comment on this)