Monday, January 7, 2008

Back in Black

Hi Gang,

(not that there is actually a gang at this point, I'm fairly certain the only people who have read any of this are the people I explicitly pointed here).

As you can tell from the date stamps on these posts, I have a little bit of the ole' ADD and forgot about this for a while.

To begin my triumphant (and also potentially short-lived) return I have but one question to ask...

What is the proper etiquette when recognizing a girl from your high school that you haven't seen in years...at a strip club...where she is working...as a stripper...and she's on stage...naked?

Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Cars are not tombstones.

The only thing more hick than the "In Memory Of..." decals on the back windows of the busted-ass SUV's I see around here are the Dale Earnheardt neck tattoos on the 3oolb dudes driving those SUV's...

Friday, April 13, 2007

Just calm the fuck down America...

Imus got fired...WTF? And don't even get me started on the Duke case...

Ok, granted "nappy-headed hos" is not exactly dinner table conversation but we as a nation need to take the proverbial chill pill. Now I don't listen to Imus, but I'm betting the only reason someone that old even knows the phrase "nappy-headed hos" is because he heard it in a Ludacris song. And I do listen to Ludacris.

That brings up the fucked up part. There are two sections of popular culture. In one half of our culture people are taking words like "nappy headed" and the n-bomb and using them freely, ostensibly because they are the same race. And in the other half of our culture we are held hostage by people like Al Sharpton who have somehow gained the credibility to be able determine what is and isn't racist. Its like we have a school where half the students are learning Yankee Doodle and the other half are being told flutes and drums are evil.

Here's the net-net so to speak. We have become so PC and so afraid of language that communication has suffered. If the government were doing what people like Al Sharpton are pressuring corporations in to doing, it would be a gross violation of free speech. People like Sharpton and Jesse Jackson are just stoking the fire when they make huge deals out of non-events. We have instilled a culture of over-sensitivity. We still have the concept of slavery reparations running around when nobody alive today probably knows anyone, living or dead, that owned a slave back in the 1800's. We give credence and elevate words like "nappy-headed" when we give them six days in a news cycle. If we all learned to let the non-issues slide I think we'd have a better country for it.

Racism isn't a set of words, its an attitude of malice. And maybe Imus is a malicious guy, but he's just the smoke pointing out the fact that there is a fire. But this restrictive and reactionary society isn't healthy, and I'm betting it's breeding the malice while it stamps out the words.

Friday, March 23, 2007

In this entry I am an elitist bastard.

So I went to Subway for lunch today. This Subway was in the less affluent portion of town, and I have to say, I would really like to know what that ten square miles was thinking.

I guess I don't understand the thought process that yields what I saw today. "I'm a Jerry Garcia look-alike, so I better marry the first fem-mullet sporting fatty that shuffles by me and pump out four dirty little ankle-biters." How does that become acceptable? I swear I saw a three-hundred pound meth addict, how is that even possible? That shit is diet pills mixed with boiled gasoline, you should be thin and bouncing off the wall not waddling around trying to see out of the sunken disasters you call eyes.

I guess I just don't understand how someone can let their entire life become a consolation prize. Thanks for playing "Your Life", we're gonna have to send you home, here is a lifetime subscription to "Give Up Monthly", try our home game.

Sex, Drugs, and Geritol?

As I drove in to work today I heard former band members of REO Speedwagon playing in the studio of the Bob and Tom Show. They bit ass.

This prompted a line of thinking, is there anything else that is at once so pathetic and so magnificent as an aged rock star? Think Mick Jagger or Steven Tyler.

What the hell are things going to be like when its the guys from Blink 182 are hobbling around the stage in walkers talking about farting on people and flirting with 14 year old girls? Snoop Dogg with a colostomy bag? You have to thank Christ for the ones that died young...

Thursday, March 22, 2007

And another freakin' thing...

The Malajusted Two got into a prestigious business school last week. I am now losing The Malajusted One's Psychotic Competition With the Whole of the Known Universe...highlights at eleven.

Patience is a virtue...it is also absent.

I suck at waiting. I don't know if it was the brain-blistering pace of Sesame Street or if someone has been sneaking speed into my drinking water for the last 24.5 years (I was a fairly patient six-month-old), but I do not play this game well.

Given the current law school application situation (currently and quite unexpectedly getting my ass handed to me). I have begun flipping out again about what to do post-admissions-cycle-implosion. I live in one of the most boring cities in the US, devoid of appreciable natural formations and so middle-of-the-road in every imaginable way that it makes me want to drive at high speed down the wrong side of that very road. Fortunately for my wallet, and unfortunately for my decision-making process I have about the best possible job I can think of in my current field. I don't mean that I skip to work everyday burping up sunshine and crapping out rainbows, but it doesn't consume my life, I'm not racked by job-stress, and I get paid almost exactly what I did in a market with a 50% higher cost of living.

All in all a decent setup, but I am mentally thrashing like a freshly caught bass to get the fuck out. Of everything, all of it. I feel so damned penned in all the time. I occaisionally fantasize about a cardboard box under the overpass or shitting in a coffee can in some shack in the woods just for the lack of obligations.

Goddamn you Sesame Street...