So Sticky

I don't want to start complaining about the weather, but today was hot enough that complaining is justified. Not even just hot, but sweaty.

Nobody needs this Mother Nature. Humidity at 97%? Give it a rest. I see there is more of this shit planned for tomorrow too. If I wanted humidity like this I would move to Thailand or Malaysia or a greenhouse. You don't need to be dropping this soggy shit in NYC. Especially during the week, when work requires me to dress business casual aka not summer friendly.

The ABCs of APs

I guess there are a few things that need to be addressed about the A.P. in question from my last posting and the comments related to said posting.

The A.P. firing off comments like the LAPD fires their guns is NOT the Associated Press. A.P. is also NOT the A.P. who used to work with me. The A.P. discussed is my former roommate from college. I would just put everyone's real name down, but I'm guessing none of them want their name associated with this blog, me or being searchable by the information superhighway in general.

Let's compare the A.P.s shall we?

The news organization A.P. - likes distributing news/photos, making rules, and ... well, keepin' it real I guess. They'll let you know all the things you need to know when writing news type stuff. Like these two need to know entries from the AP Stylebook ...

• Dr Pepper - A trademark (no period after Dr) for a brand of soft drink Headquarters is in Dallas.
• kids - Use children unless you are talking about goats, or the use of kids as an informal synonym for children is appropriate in the context
• Oreo - A trademark for a brand of chocolate cookie held together by a white filling. The use of the word by blacks indicates belief that another black is "black outside but white inside."

The A.P. who used to work with me - likes Space Ghost, Long Island, legal matters, Kelly Ripa, rockin' out and he often wears goofy shirts

The A.P. from college - likes beer, iguana feces, strip bars, Bruce Springsteen, smashing pumpkins (not the band, just the big orange vegetable), sleeping, and talking shit

So as it turns out, it may be the same initials, but certainly not the same.

Now that we've got that all figured out perhaps we can move on. Oh, special request granted for Anise -- Fuck you Associated Press! Fuck you and your not-for-profit news providing cooperative!

Pickin' Winners

Back when American Idol 4 started, upon seeing and hearing her for the first time I predicted that Carrie Underwood would win it all (ask my co-workers if you don't believe me). Right I was.

Don't get all excited and start making fun of my A.I. watching. I'm not one to watch American Idol every time it is on because after the initial onslaught of shitty singers dissipates, the show starts to irritate more than entertain. That said, I have been watching ROCK STAR: INXS the last couple of nights and I wanted to throw a prediction out there again. Granted there are way fewer competitors, so if I predict correctly it won't be the amazing feat that the Carrie pick was, but nevertheless ...

I did my first predicting using only the ROCK STAR: INXS site. Read the bios and looked at the pictures and I picked two possible winners. I missed the premiere of the show, but caught the second night. After watching the performances I have stuck with the same two singers. So, here is my prediction ... (drum roll) ...

Winner: Ty
Runner Up (aka First Loser): Jordis

Both are entertaining to watch, have good voices and have some fashion sense. Also, neither is too much like the old singer of INXS so it won't be alienating INXS fans too much.

Prediction made. Now we just wait to see if I once again I prove myself an A&R genius.

Numbers Don't Lie

I realize (or realise as the Brits would say) this is probably only adding fuel to the fire, but A.P., I feel I must address your comments in public. Public being right here, not on a soap box in Times Square or something.

According to the Site Meter I have strapped onto this blog, I am averaging 49 visits a day. Now granted, most are accidental and most visitors aren't sticking around for hours to read my retarded ramblings, but as you can see on the accompanying graph, my numbers are still significant enough to make me feel like somebody. Somebody Damn you!! SOMEBODY!!

By the way, take note of the numbers in November. That's when I mentioned Tara Reid's boob falling out of her dress. If the only thing printed here sinks in is this, well then at least you now know that breast exposure makes you feel like even more of a somebody without even trying. Good to know.

So, in closing I'd like to say that although you, A.P. are probably one of my biggest fans, and you are probably only trying to encourage me to "challenge myself" and "push the envelope" and all that shit, but with the science of the internet and free internet tracking devices, I can prove that I am not yet done for. Thanks for the support though. Also, T.D. (I'm guessing it's you), thanks for backing me up in the comment arena.

In your face A.P.

Those Crazy Rockers

This past Friday I went to see Mindless Self Indulgence at Webster Hall. I'd never seen them before and only knew a couple of songs, but I had a good feeling about the whole thing. I was correct as usual. I realized as soon as MSI took the stage that my money was well spent. The singer goes by the name Little Jimmy Urine. So, between the songs I already knew and that name (I can't even think about Little Jimmy Urine without smiling to myself), I'm pretty much sold (yeah, that's an easy sell). To complete my MSI approval, Jimmy is slightly nuts too. The rest of the band is fairly wacky, but he is like part Johnny Rotten, part Mr. Peepers so it's a complete spazorama.

Beyond the band, my favorite part of the show was a girl named "Twelve." I'm guessing that wasn't really her name, but she had a red T-shirt with "12" on the back, so that is what her name became. Most of the crowd was really into the show, but Twelve was lovin' the show to the maximum. Jumping around, singing, dancing, gesturing with her hands, it was great. Twelve had a friend with a Cookie Monster backpack and socks like the nanny on Muppet Babies wears. She too was lovin' the show, but Twelve was my favorite with her lack of accessories or need to imitate the band. Twelve didn't give a shit what she looked like. Fuck getting her hair all alternapunked and whatnot. Just throw on the shorts, the "12" shirt and some sneakers and out the door to rock.

Part of me wished I was Twelve. I never had a shirt with a "12" on the back, but I certainly attended concerts back when I was a young chap where I was in my glory as she was this past Friday. I just don't have it in me anymore.

The Eats

Tonight's "dinner": waffle cone with one scoop Grasshopper Pie (Creme de Menthe Liqueur with Oreos and chocolate flakes) and one scoop Caramel Moose Prints (Butterscotch ice cream, a caramel swirl and chocolate peanut buttercups blended in) from Emack & Bolio's and then when I arrived home, one ear of corn with butter, salt and pepper.

Summer has arrived.

God Bless America

I love my new 4th of July skirt almost as much as I love the U.S.A.!

Big (Dumb) Talk

I read an interview NY1 had with WTC developer Larry Silverstein today during an "exclusive" tour of the new 7 World Trade Center. I'm no terrorist, but if I was, this comment would sound like a dare to me:

"The building is built totally differently than the initial 7 World Trade Center. This building will not come down," says Larry Silverstein.

Granted, the construction specs do sound impressive, but " ... will
not come down" sounds a bit to me like the Titanic being unsinkable.

Funny Business

Do you want to know why I listen to bands that some critics (and probably you) find useless? Because they are fucking funny, that's why. Check out the following two entries from the Bloodhound Gang's web site and try to tell me you don't appreciate the humor (and that's before the music even starts!) If you truly don't appreciate the humor, maybe I'll give you a shot to the bridge of your nose with my funny bone next time I see you and we'll see if it is funny then:

Bloodhound Gangsters spread it.
While our main objective in organizing a street team is to procure grass roots marketing at a minimal cost to ourselves by exploiting the unwavering devotion of our most dedicated fans, we're hoping some fat nerds handing out Weezer stickers get beat up in the process. If you're into indentured servitude, send an email to Holmes.

P-fucking-A.
The official state song of Pennsylvania sucks mad dick. Therefore, we have decided to petition the state legislation of the people's dumpster known as Pennsylvania to have it changed to our song, the appropriately titled, "Pennsylvania." Now go here bitches.

Yo Ho Ho

My birthday is in April. Next time someone feels motivated enough to make me a cake I'd like a baby slaughtering pirate themed caked like this one.

Thank you.

It's been a light week on the blog front. It's not that things haven't been happening, it's just that I haven't really felt like writing. Anyway, here are some photos I took the other night (nothing great, but photos nevertheless). The moon was looking big and cool, but as is so often the case the scale and presentation of the moment didn't really translate over to photo form very well:

This one is of the majestic East River, looking south from 18th Street. It used to be a good place to throw the bodies of my murder victims, but now look at all the fucking lights! Take note of the one street light that seems to be way above the rest. It's not a streetlight. It's the moon.


This next shot is of the entrance ramp to the FDR. Hey, there's the moon again!


Here is the aforementioned FDR ramp. I guess I was a bit shaky on this one, so the scene looks like the cars might be flying from the wide open spaces of the sky above to drive on the not so wide open space of the FDR. The streaking lights also remind me a bit of when I used to play Missile Command on my Atari 2600.


I'm off to a wedding in Massachusetts tomorrow morning. Rental car + lead foot + E-ZPass = good times.

Are Those Meatballs?

Having never been a cheerleader, I don't really know all of the cheering tricks of the trade.

To be honest, most of what I know is from movies.

I can't say I remember this cheerleader trick of the trade mentioned in Bring It On or Sugar & Spice, so I appreciate the girls at Keller High keeping my learning going. The best part of this cheerleading lesson is that you can use it in non-cheerleading camp environments.

And ladies, the hours of laughs you'll get telling this story when you are in college and beyond? Shit, getting sent home early from camp is so worth it (plus I'm sure those sluts from Fossil Ridge deserve almost eating shit).

Cheerleaders Disciplined for Feces Pizza

KELLER, Texas (AP) -- Four Keller High School cheerleaders were sent home early from camp after allegedly putting human feces on a pizza and trying to frame rival cheerleaders for the deed.

Cheerleaders from rival Fossil Ridge High School had sent the pizza to the Keller squad on the last night of a four-day camp at the University of Texas at Arlington. Less than an hour later, some Keller cheerleaders took the pizza to the Fossil Ridge sponsor, claiming that Fossil Ridge cheerleaders had doctored the pizza with feces.

After questioning, four Keller cheerleaders were sent home, cheerleaders and parents told the Fort Worth Star-Telegram for a story in Thursday's editions.

Federal laws bar officials from discussing the girls' discipline, but such an incident would be considered "serious misconduct," district spokesman Jason Meyer told the newspaper. He said punishment could include sending the girls to the district's disciplinary alternative high school and removing them from the team.

The day after the pizza prank, other Keller cheerleaders apologized and read a letter to the Fossil Ridge squad.

Get Back Down On All Fours Please

I find this to be one of the creepiest animal photos ever:


Futa, a lesser panda, is proving a hit at a zoo near Tokyo
as it can stand on two legs like a human being for
about 10 seconds, an unusual feat for the species,
zoo officials said. (Chiba Zoological Park)
My brain keeps trying to convince me that it is a stuffed animal or something, but apparently it is not. They have these lesser pandas (aka red pandas) at the Central Park Zoo. The few times I have been there they have been sleeping, but now I see what they are capable of and I don't like it. It looks like some sort of molester, and the last thing I want is to be molested or raped by a lesser panda.

Creepy fucker.

It's Better Than a Riot I Suppose

As I was walking past the bus stop on 14th Street & University Place I saw a girl waiting in line for the bus (which was just pulling up) start vomiting like crazy. It was quite a scene.

No word on whether the incident stemmed from the announcement of the Michael Jackson verdict.

Lesson To Remember

This is a posting for the kids. More specifically, the kids who are thinking of getting a tattoo or tattoos. If you are to get a tattoo, I'm not one to judge, I'm just giving you these words of advice: Don't get a name permanently on your body unless it is your own.

This includes boyfriends, girlfriends, sports teams, band names, etc. I don't even recommend getting my name tattooed on you. Although stylish, you may wind up regretting it.

I mention all this because of this classic example of bad tattoo decision: Chris D'abaldo, guitarist for Saliva who is no longer in Saliva because of "creative differences" is now stuck with "Saliva" etched into his forearm in black ink.





Other people's mistakes come in handy if you take note to not do the same. Remember "that guy from Saliva" kids. You'll thank yourself someday.

How I Spent My ...

I thought I would throw a couple of pictures from my vacation (or holiday) as the rest of the world likes to say) up for your viewing pleasure:

Here we have what is called an Agouti.
They are sort of like what you would get if you could mate a large guinea pig with a large rabbit. They look like fun. I ate a close relative of the agouti, a paca (aka gibnut) for dinner one night.

Tasty.









Here we have some sort of dung beetle doing what dung beetles do best ... push poop around.

Notice his little friend (or perhaps rival) Mr. Fly in the lower portion of the photo trying to get a piece of the action.












Here is a skeleton of a human sacrifice in Actun Tunichil Muknal, or ATM as many (including myself) like to call it.
The Maya would use this cave for sacrificing and bloodletting rituals. The skeleton is from around 900 A.D. Apparently the Maya would go in this cave and get all trippy on mushrooms or other hallucinogens and carry on their rituals. It must have led to some pretty bad trips, especially for those sacrificed. If you ever go to Belize this is one stop I would call a "must see." It's fucking cool.














Here's a little friend of mine I met briefly in Guatemala -- the coati.

The coati is sort of like a raccoon, but hangs out during the day and isn't so fucking fat. This one didn't give a shit about me and came out of his tree and walked by me close enough that I could here his panting from the effort in the jungle heat.









This is the van/license plate of the douche bags who drove us to Tikal in Guatemala. They tried to fuck us out of some money.
That shit didn't go over too well.

Don't ride with them unless you like getting fucked with or if you like walking around ancient ruins really pissed off. If you like those things then pile in the van.










Here's me doing one of the things I do really well ... staring at my feet while swinging in a hammock.

















Here are some kids in Hopkins, Belize showing me that hammocks can be used for more rowdy fun than what I use them for.
I'm old and lazy. I get it kids. Fuck off, I'm on vacation.















Here is where footwear belongs while on vacation. No place near feet. Barefoot is the way to be.


The beach in Hopkins. As you can see there's not a lot going on. Just the way I like it.

















Ah, back to the creatures. Here is a bird I like.
There was a whole posse of these suckers around and they would stalk and eat insects, especially around dusk.

He's got one in his beak right now! Nice work champ. One less bug pissing me off while trying to sleep.









Here's some of the kids who lived next door to the place I was staying in Hopkins. I would like to emphasize some. Holy crap, those parents of theirs must like gettin' busy.

There was a lot of activity over there. The activity (such as the running pictured) would usually lead to somebody crying.












Next stop was Tobacco Caye (pronounced key). Just what the doctor ordered.

As if the island isn't enough as is, there was a bar just steps from the water.

















The view from the front porch of my cabin at Tobacco Caye Lodge.

SWEET HOME indeed.















The aforementioned bar had a happy hour that began at 5:00pm.

Rum and Cokes? $3.00 Belize. That translates into $1.50 U.S.

As if that isn't enough to keep me content, there would also be kickass sunsets easily viewed from barside.















On the way back to Belize City to catch a flight home to the U.S. of A., flying sounded a bit less annoying, and not much more expensive than the bus. As it turns out, the plane was smaller than a bus.

















The inside of the plane.
This fucker holds 12 plus a pilot and co-pilot. Notice the pilot's head up there in the front? This flight had no co-pilot and certainly had no cockpit door to stop terrorists from taking over.

I almost asked if I could sit in the co-pilot's seat, but figured in this winged minivan maybe the pilot didn't need any distractions.






This was a group of missionaries from Georgia waiting for their flight at the airport.

I saw at least three groups such as this during my time in Belize. They like wearing matching T-shirts and spreading Jesus' love throughout the land. Ya gotta stop those blood-crazy Maya from doing all their sacrificing you know.

The majority of them had a look that would have me uninterested in asking them for directions to the bathroom, nevermind the answers to my spiritual existence.

I was trying to guess if any of the teens were perhaps using the low chaperone/teen ratio to push aside thoughts of eternal damnation and get it on. A few looked suspicious.

A heard a female member from a different group of red T-shirt wearing missionaries from Texas say some comment about " ... such a stereotypical Yankee." I wanted to go up and ask her how her stereotypical southern ass was going to be speaking so negatively about northerners when she is trying to promote Jesus, but I didn't. Instead I just stuck my Yankee foot up her fat redneck ass. No, I didn't do that either, but I should have.

The last slide in our vacation slide show is just one more reason to dislike Florida.

This is my receipt from the purchase of two newspapers at the Miami International Airport.

Notice anything odd? Tax. Fucking tax on newspapers.

So stupid. So annoying.
















THE END

Mystery Solved (Almost)

I don't exactly know what this is all about. A lunatic with a PR firm? A promotional item? A joke? I don't really care. Be sure to get to the URL in this release and check out the photos and video. AWESOME!

Loch Ness Investigator Goes Public
Forensics Investigator William McDonald has Been Researching the Loch Ness Monster for 12 Years
PHOENIX, June 7 /PRNewswire/ -- Forensics Investigator William McDonald has been researching the Loch Ness Monster for 12 years. The former U.S. Marine is now on the threshold of breaking new evidence that, for the first time, reveals what the creature is, proves its existence, and explains why the animal is only seen on blurry photos. McDonald is also prepared to reveal why the Scottish Highland Government is covering up information about the monster's true identity.

With exclusive photos and video, McDonald is prepared to detail:

• Slide Tracks taken in December on the banks of Loch Ness of an animal reported to be 50 to 60 feet long.
• A half-devoured deer carcass found by two American students in March.
• A four inch barbed shed tooth found in the deer's remains, confiscated by Scottish Authorities, confirmed by biologists to be real.
• The actual species of the animal known as Nessie.
• Why it is not a plesiosaur, as the Highlanders claim it to be.
• How the animal entered Loch Ness prior to 1930 and why it is trapped.
• Why it only surfaces to feed on winter nights.
• Why the Scottish Government confiscated the tooth found by the American students' and how their footage came to appear at http://www.LochNessTooth.com

Because of a nondisclosure agreement with author Steve Alten (The LOCH), whose publisher funded part of McDonald's research in exchange for the exclusive, the investigator has been forced to remain quiet. However, due to McDonald's recent meetings with marine biologists, paleontologists, and board members from several prestigious museums who are lending their support in recovering the tooth from the Highland Government (offering $100,000 in reward money) Alten's publisher has agreed to release McDonald from his non-disclosure.

McDonald is now looking for the largest print media venues upon which to deliver never-before-seen photos of the tooth and renditions of what the monster actually looks like.

Mr. McDonald can be reached at 480-330-7553 or e-mail at bill_kia@hotmail.com.

He is representing the efforts of the two American students and can arrange an interview by phone with one of the students if necessary.

Contact: Michael Drew, 850-747-8188

This press release distributed by PRWEB (http://www.prwebdirect.com/ ), a service of eMediawire.

SOURCE Steve Alten
###

Door Prize

A few minutes ago my doorbell rang. This never happens unless I am expecting someone such as a food delivery guy or maybe on an exciting day the UPS guy. I go to the door wearing my boxers and a T-shirt. My stereo is on and is louder than necessary. I have my 200 CD changer on shuffle.

I open the door and there are three people. A guy, a woman and a kid maybe in high school or early college. The guy sticks out his hand and says, "Sorry to interrupt your music, but I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm __________ and I'm running for _________." I missed the details because all I could hear was Insane Clown Posse yelling, "Yeah bitch, it's all about clown love!"

According to the literature this is Jack Lester, running for City Council. He looked a bit unsure as to what he got himself into ringing my doorbell and I'm sure I looked a bit confused as well. I gave the hand a shake did the thank yous and pleased to meetchas, took his literature and shut the door. Just as the door closed the CD changed to "Yellow Submarine" by The Beatles.

I know the music is easily heard out in the hall, so I'm sure this poor guy is now thinking he just shook hands with someone with multiple personalities and is in no way receiving my vote.

Don't worry Jack. I'm not a total nut. Well, maybe my music is a bit nutty, but at least I like to flex my American rights and vote.

You Are Someting Else

Anonymous said...
Its shows how smart you must be to result to calling people names, such as RETARDO. Give it up man, just cause you dont like the winner doesn't mean you result to calling them names. Thats someting children do, I suppose you are still a child.

The comment was attached to this post yesterday, which to be honest was initially quite long and a tad violent and perhaps Secret Service alarming so I trimmed it down after Blind Cavefish advised me via comment numero uno.

A few comments to the person who left me that anonymous comment:

1. This post was originally posted on November 3, 2004. I appreciate the feedback, but I feel it's a bit late to be bitching at me at this point.
2. Posting as "anonymous" is "someting children do." If you are going to talk ill of me, try to be adult enough to leave your identity.
   
3. Speaking of "someting" -- "Its" should be "It", In two cases I think when you say "result" you mean to say "resort", "dont" should be "don't" or "do not", "Thats" should be "that's" or "that is" and "someting" should be "something"
   
4. You are a numskull. Whoops -- there is that childish name calling again. I just can't stop I guess.

Still the Same

It's nice to know that no matter how long you are away from your normal routine, there is one thing that stays constant -- crappy movies on TBS every Sunday.

I haven't seen a TV in 16 days and when I turn mine on this morning Deep Blue Sea is on.

Constant crapathon.