Monday, March 30, 2009

Down South Jukin'


The countdown has begun. 5 weeks from now, I will be hangin' down south in Horry County, SC for the annual Myrtle Beach Bike Week. The locals will tell you it is pronounced "Orry County" but spend the second week in May there and you will know how it SHOULD be pronounced. I love this week and everything about it, so much so that I start looking forward to it immediately after I return home. Mornings are spent sitting on wooden rocking chairs in front of The Beaver Bar with beers in hand. Some prefer bloody marys in the morning, but fahk that - it's beer for me. There's the usual ride down Route 17 to Charleston to have lunch at Bubba Gump's Shrimp Company and the ride back to make like real southerners and attack the buffet at Hog Heaven in Pawley's Island, SC. From fried chicken to macaroni & cheese to fried okra to sweet potato pie, this food is so good it would make the Olsen twins want to keep their food down. We will for sure be spending time at the Broken Spoke listenin to the southern rock sounds of Peacepipe and the Kentucky Headhunters. Oh, we might even see a wet tshirt or two or twenty and the more than occasional nekkid chick. The biker rodeo at the Rat Hole is another must, as are the tittie shooters at the Irongate Saloon. People ask me if I ever feel like doing something different for a vacation. I usually look back at them with a blank stare, wondering if they have been listening at all.

This year, however, we won't actually be spending any time in the city of Myrtle Beach. Seems the dimwits who run that city would rather not have the revenue that 400,000 bikers could potentially bring. Ol' Mayor BillyBob Dumass (sorry, but I really have no interest in whatever the fuck his real name is) championed a list of laws through the city council that have been aimed at keeping bikers out of the city. They have passed a helmet law, restricted vendor permits and have mandated closing times for all establishments. For whatever their real reasons are for attacking the bike rallies, (ahem... Google Black Bike Week and you might learn a little bit more about the racism that is alive and well down there), Opie and Cooter and the rest of the toofless politicians have succeeded in taking millions of dollars in revenue away from local hotels, restaurants and other businesses. Not only have they taken money out of their own city, they have indirectly funneled it to the rest of Horry County (I swear to God that is the name of the county). You see, we bikers are a pretty persistent group. We're still coming to South Carolina... we will be staying in Garden City, Surfside, Murrels Inlet, North Myrtle Beach, all within direct eyesight of the Myrtle Beach politicians....we will be spending our money so close to the city limits that they will be able to read the freakin' serial numbers on the dollar bills that are folded in half, the long way....Piss us off and we will piss on you.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Where Is My Teleprompter?

Have you heard the news? President B. Hussein Obama slipped up during his television appearance with Jay Leno last week. I ask if you have heard because there is a real chance that you have not even heard about it. The camera loving Prez felt it was important to talk to Leno about the bowling alley in the White House. In his poor attempt at humor, he revealed that bowling was not his best event and that he recently tallied a 129. With a dumbass grin from big ear to big ear, he jokingly said "it was like the Special Olympics or something." Ruh Roh Raggy!!! By the way Mr. President, with a 129, you couldn't carry a Special Olympians jock!

So this leaves me with many many thoughts - bear with me while I try to put it all into good conservative words without sounding like a Barack Basher... (fat chance, right?).

I'm often the first one to tell people to chill out when they over react to a badly timed joke or a politically incorrect snafu (hey, did you know that snafu stands for Situation Normal - All Fukked Up?... but I digress). And at first, my thoughts were just that: What a dumbass thing to say, especially for the leader of the free world. But is it really that big a deal? No, but his apology is the big deal to me.

His apology: Am I the only one who found the apology more offensive than the original remark? The original dumbass comment came off the cuff from someone desperately trying to be as funny (cuz he IS here to entertain us afterall). This is what happens when someone who has none of the talent but all of the power to become a TV star. Okay, so he fahked up. Apologize and move on, right? But it is his apology, assumingly a statement written by his speech writers after careful consideration to proper wording, that further displayed a lack of respect for the Special Olympics. Blowbama said it was not his intent to insult the Special Olympics or the disability population in general, but rather to merely poke fun at his own inept bowling skills. WHAT???? The difference between his first comment and his apology is that his apology was a little less obvious, but no less ignorant. What he might as well have said: "I meant no disrespect to the disabled community. If I offended anyone, I am deeply sorry. I was just trying to say how much I suck at bowling. And you are the measuring stick for what sucks."

The next (obvious) step: I can see it now? Barack has a photo shoot in the making as a result of his misstep. Within weeks, there will most certainly be a group of Special Olympian bowlers invited to the White House by the President. Ol' Barack will show the Kennedy's that he really does care about the organization created by their family in honor of their beloved sister who was shipped off to Wyoming because she was retahded, you know. There will be pictures and video feeds of people lining up to kick the President's ass on the bowling lanes. There will be lots of laughing, high fives and hugging. Everyone in the news media will again talk about how Barack is a superhero. FAHK YOU ALL!!! When this bullshit event happens, cuz it will... you need to remember WHY it is happening.... because he stuck his foot in his mouth while appearing on a late night talk show as a sitting President.

Where are the Kennedy's? Imagine for a moment that George Bush made the same mistake on Leno (wait a minute, he would never be a guest on Leno because... um... because... HE WAS THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA!!!!!). But if ol' Dubbaya did have the same celebrity aspirations as B. Hussein and did make that same comment on national television - how do you think ol' Teddy "She was alive when I swam away" Kennedy would have handled it? I don't even need to waste me time on that answer because you all know how it would be addressed. But since this was the newest Democrat darling eating his loafers in front of millions, it is being pushed under the rug. I am hearing people begging us to give it a rest and that there are more important things to talk about these days? This is coming from the same group of dipshits who spent the last 8 years reminding us how George W. could not prounounce "nuclear" (damn, I do wish he would have at least fixed that before leaving office). Sorry - not gonna give it a rest. That is not until he screws up the Blue Team on Hell's Kitchen next week.

Friday, March 20, 2009

Hey Mom, My Finger Can Shoot 200 Rounds Per Second.

As I trudge through the muddy streets of a bombed out village somewhere in eastern Russia, I am swarmed by a gaggle of German soldiers who want nothing but to separate my head from my shoulders in the name of Hitler. But with the precision of a 7 year old with a Super Soaker, I spray the enemy with my Browning Automatic Rifle. As they are dropping faster than Wilt Chamberlain's zipper, I hear a frightening growl. And from behind a riddled Volkswagen, a big fahkin German Shepard comes racing at me, teeth bared and ready to turn me into his after dinner treat. Luckily I have one round left and just before he gets to my balls, I feed him a lead biscuit straight into his throat and the fahker tumbles to the ground with a final, helpless yelp. Checkpoint reached. Mission Complete. Beer break!

You know what's funny (I mean besides a 42 year old man playing XBox in his son's bedroom), after I was finished playing Call of Duty: World At War, I didn't feel an urge to go outside and kill all the doggies. You might be asking yourself what the hell am I talking about. And then I would be forced to point out that you are talking to yourself again. But yesterday in the local paper, there was a story of some 19 year old aspiring candy-ass from Tyngsboro who is outraged at the violence toward animals depicted in the Call of Duty video game. She has started a petition against the video game because of the cruelty to dogs in the game. I wonder if this neophyte knows the secret.... ssshhhhhhh.... ... they're not real dogs....shhhhh . Of course, she makes no mention that most of the killing in the game is directed at human beings. I guess that's okay... we can kill the German soldiers, but we had better leave Rin Tin Tin alone. HEY... it's just a fahkin game with make pretend characters . In the words of Patsy, trusty sidekick to Sir Arthur in Monty Python's Holy Grail, "It's only a model." WTF!!!

Well, this article raised the discussion about the amount of violence to which our children are exposed. All the panty-waste bellyachers out there are afraid that our children will be more apt to act violently because they are being "desensitized." Holy shit!!!! Really? What these know-it-alls are implying is that because my son spends his waking moments shooting WWII soldiers and killing WWII attack dogs in a fantasy video game, he could be desensitized to violence, making it more likely that he will go outside looking to knife the nearest German Shepard. Umm..... BULLSHIT!!! That's like saying after hours upon hours of Guitar Hero, he will become a rock star (it's not a real guitar you morons!)... and he is pretty freakin' good at the Madden football games, but I don't think he is at risk of becoming an NFL linebacker (Hey - it's not real football either) ... No, the real reason children act violently can usually be traced back to you being a bad parent... sorry if I have offended the bad parents out there, but suck it up buttercup. It's not Ozzy's fault - it's on you.

Let's make some fun of this argument for a moment:
In 1888, Jack the Ripper brutalized many a prostitute in the Whitechapel district of London, reportedly after spending hours playing Grand Theft Auto and killing make believe prostitutes on his yet to be invented television and video game system. Oh... and did you know that Charles Manson was addicted to Mortal Kombat? He would spend hours playing that game while spinning his Beatles albums backward. Rumor has it, it is the violence portrayed in that game that led ol' Chuck to murder (I blame the backwards Beatles songs, by the way).

I know many Moms and Dads who are happy to squash imagination by refusing to allow their children to own toy guns while growing up. Their argument is that playing with toy guns will foster a certain level of comfort with "killing." HUH??? Newsflash: If your son doesn't have a toy gun, he will pick up a stick and promptly begin making machine gun noises, complete with a spit shower all over his Transformers tshirt. And if there is no high powered machine gun stick to be found, there is always the trusty two guns given to him by God... with a simple extension of thumb and forefinger, every boy has in his possession the baddest pair of 6-shooters in the west). I spent my entire youth shooting Indians (not native Americans - Indians - the kind of indians that run around slapping their open mouths with their open hands to make the familiar whooping sound all Indians make), cowboys, cops and robbers and the occasional storm trooper. Sometimes we would even "die," meaning we had to lay still for an expected amount of time (usually one minute or as soon as the other kid is out of sight) before we could re-enter the game and start shooting again. Despite all the exposure to violent games as a youth, I turned out a rather peaceful kinda guy (well, I do get a charge out of watching Jack Bauer fling a knife into a hitman's chest... cuz that's really cool).

My son has had toy rifles, air soft guns and paintball guns. Forget worrying about toy guns. I have also taken my now teenage son to a firing range in Manchester and to a frozen pond in Hudson. He has spent time shooting a .40 caliber carbine rifle, a .22 single shot rifle and a CO2 powered BB gun. He shoots paper targets, beer cans and water bottles. Some people would say that he is being molded into a person with a tendency toward violence. I would say that he is being molded into a kid who likes to shoot beer cans and paper targets. (Oh... I am trying to mold him into the type of person who can kill that fahkin woodpecker who won't leave my house alone.)

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Happy Evacuation Day To All

Alot of people like to give me grief about the multitude of holidays that are bestowed upon me because of my position in life as a Commonwealth employee. Well, in the spirit of Evacuation Day, I say to you all: "neener neener neener." I'll get ya again in June on Bunker Hill Day.

The origin of Evacuation Day goes something like this: Back on March 17th, 1776, General George Washington positioned a row of cannons on a hill in Dorchester Heights, aimed directly at the balls of the Redcoats. Legend has it that the English promptly performed a mass evacuation of their bowels, and after collectively shitting their britches, they got the hell out of Dodge to go find some new pants. Whatever the reason, I get a floater holiday and you don't.... neener neener neener.

TANGENTIAL MOMENT: (shit, that sounds funny when you say it out loud)
How much are you looking forward to the end of Lent. Yeah yeah yeah... all you religous types are counting down to the celebration of the most miraculous day in the Christian faith: the day that Jesus rose from the dead, rolled back a 4 ton stone and went searching for painted eggs. Well, for me, the close of the Lenten season means the end of 40 days of "Gimme back that filet-o-fish. Gimme that fish." Holy Christ!- I don't remember a commercial getting so much air time since that old blue haired troll was looking for the beef. Well, I guess it's better than the stupid fahkin bunny rabbit that clucks like a chicken and lays Cadbury eggs.

Listen up, if the birth of Jesus can turn into two months of shopping and a story of an obese elf in a red suit and the resurrection of Jesus can become paired with a story of a giant rabbit hiding candy and eggs all over the world, then I can turn the evacuation of the British into a day of Guinness drinking and corned beef eating!!! So leave me the fahk alone and Happy Evacuation Day to you all... I've donned my green beads and am off to search for green boobs.

Friday, March 13, 2009

Worst Kept Secret In New England - U2 Plays Somerville

Imagine if you will: You are able to score a couple of New England Patriot tickets. Game day arrives and you hop in your buddy's pickup truck at 7am, dressed up in your old Grogan jersey, for the 1 hour drive to the stadium. The grill is hog-tied in the bed of the truck with the deftness of a calf-roper and you have three coolers filled with more beer than you can drink and a little bit of food. You spent the morning in the parking lot tossing a Nerf football around, woofing down sausages, ribs and slim jims, and pissing on the front tire of the Toyota Camry parked next to you because the port-a-potties are just way too far away for a drunken stumble. As the kickoff draws near, you join the exodus of fellow fans in the This Way To The Brady Worship Service Conga Line into the stadium. Once inside, you start shelling out $8.00 for plastic bottles of the same beer you have back in your coolers. Grab yourself another sammich, this one is pulled pork with ass-fire hot sauce and cheesey fries and you find your seats. You don't pay attention during the kickoff because you really are just watching the cheerleaders closest to your section wondering which one you will go home with tonight. The first quarter ends and the Pats are up by some crazy margin, cuz that's what they do. But then the second quarter starts and something very strange happens. Instead of lining up for more football action, both teams come onto the field for an answer/question session with the fans. And they announce that they will be signing autographs. They will not finish the game because they are more interested in a give and take with their fans. Sounds crazy, right??? Not so mon fraire... not so.

This week, U2, the most overated, talentless group of "musicians" since the fukkin Monkees, played in Somerville to a packed house of 900 people. If you have ever doubted that U2 was more about self-promotion than music, this story should fix your problem. This "secret" event was more publicized than a papal visit and a Rihanna black eye combined. Bono (which must be Gaelic for "My Ego Is Bigger Than Texas") called the event a "public rehearsal" yet needed the Somerville police department to shut down Davis Square so they could unload their equipment. And I'm not sure what is public about an "invitation only" event. Either way, the U2 setlist was a whopping 5 fahkin songs!!!

    Get On Your Boots (the bullshit is gonna get deep), Magnificent (must be about Bono), Breathe (dedicated to the fans who pass out at the sight of Bono and The Edge), I'll Go Crazy If I Don't Go Crazy Tonight (HUH?) and Vertigo (the only song I've heard of but it still sucks)

Not exactly a stand up and scream list! And then they took questions from the crowd!! 5 SONGS!!!!! This is typical Paul Hewson (aka Bono - that's right, doesn't sound so cool anymore, huh?) - it's not about his music and it has never been about his music. It is about hearing himself talk. This guy and his group of sheep he calls his band are all about bigness. By the way, time for "The Edge" to drop that moniker (and the stupid fahkin winter hat). This little lamb is about as "edgy" as Opie from Andy Griffith. Hey Bono... YOU'RE A BAND - YOU GET PAID TO PLAY MUSIC - SHUT YOUR IRISH, CORNED BEEF EATIN' PIE HOLE AND PLAY SUNDAY BLOODY SUNDAY!!

I know the U2 followers are gonna get all up in arms over this, but frankly I don't really give a shit. Maybe someone will be able to explain to me exactly why they are so BIG. Well, except for those wikkid pissah cool clear sunglasses (sarcasm intended - the shades are lameass!), I don't see what the fuss is all about. I just don't. I probably never will...

Off to listen to real music now.... Johnny Cash is on Outlaw Country as I type...

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Where to Begin???

Yesterday, the stock market rebounded in a huge way with it's biggest surge of 2009, a whopping 339 points higher than the start of the day. Listen, maybe some of my friends know what the hell 339 points mean. Me- I have no bloody idea - you could have told me the market was up by 339 fukkin Gummi Bears, it would still mean the same to me. I ain't no financial expert. What I do know is that down is bad and up is good and a lap dance costs upwards of $10. The extent of my knowledge around finances is this: What I make, I want to keep. And what I don't make, I don't deserve. So when I hear stock market news, I just hope my friends and family get to keep their jobs and homes.

And so what do you think is pissing me off about such good news??? I am sure you have heard the media talking last night and this morning about how this may be a sign that the gift package...oops, I mean stimulus package... is starting to work. I have heard it said that yesterday's rally could be a sign that the market has reached bottom and is ready to climb back out of this recession. These people get that from one friggin' day???? Isn't it funny tho, how throughout January and February, while the stock market was falling faster than A-Rod's career, we had to listen to President B. Hussein Blowbama bitch about "inheriting this crisis" and he will need time to correct it. BUT ONE POSITIVE DAY and President RockStar wants his "earmark free" stimulus package to get the glory??? Can't have it both ways people!!! If ya want to give credit to Obama for yesterday's rebound, that's fine. Hell, you can have a million dollar party complete with Greco-Roman columns and a laser light show to celebrate. But with that, you must now be ready to stop blaming the Bush administration from this point on for any negative economic news. Ya can't give credit to Obama for 3/10 and then start blaming Bush again on 3/11. It don't work that way.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Lighten Up... It's Okay to Laugh!! Cuz it's funny damn it!

"When the fuck did we get ice cream?"

If you've seen the movie "The Ringer" starring an entire troupe of people with disabilities along with Johnny Knoxville and some other "normal" people, then the quote above should bring a slight grin to your face, or if you are like me, it might make you laugh out loud. In the days of political correctness, it amazes me that this movie was able to make it all the way to the big screen. By the way, if you have not seen "The Ringer," then I suggest you rent it, even if it's only to hear that one line. That shit is funny. PS... Johnny Knoxville sucked in the movie.

Now simmer down people... I am not at all about making fun of people with disabilities or intellectual challenges or whatever other politically correct bullshit term is out there these days. Many of you know what I do for work (and some of you work alongside me). If you don't know what I do for work, then you don't know me well enough to waste your energy getting pissed off at me. What I am about is understanding that sometimes it is okay to find the humor in EVERY corner of life. Humor is an important part of life with a disability. Listen - some of this shit is plain funny. A rather amusing turn of events here at work led me to a website that in turn inspired me to think long and hard about this topic. Last month, a new show began to air on MTV and some of you may have seen it. It is called "How's Your News" and it features several reporters with genuine comedic talent making their way around the country interviewing people and just having fun. Visit their website How's Your News.com and you will find many of their videos posted for your enjoyment. While watching the videos, I found myself laughing to the point of tears and a belly ache. I've embedded the clip from when they visited Central Park below:


How's Your News? - Central Park NYC from How's Your News? on Vimeo.

Listen... It's okay to tell your friends that you laughed at this. It's okay to share with others. The people who made this video know EXACTLY what they are doing and they want you to laugh. Why? BECAUSE IT IS FUNNY!!!!

Taken from the How's Your News website, "The disability community has widely embraced this project, often using our films for training or inspirational purposes. Far from being offensive, they provide a positive, empowering view of life with a disability. That’s our opinion. Please watch our films and let us know what YOU think!"

Now I guaran-damn-tee you that some liberal (and probably non-liberal) dickheads will soon be spouting off about how this new MTV show is exploiting people with disabilities. Anyone who jumps up on this pedestal is doing far worse damage to the disability community. They are assuming that the people involved in this project are not "able" to decide what is best for themselves, nor are they and their families able to stand up for themselves. And wouldn't that be the true discrimination here? So if you hear someone bitching about this show, or if you feel like bitching about it yourself, just remind them (or yourself) to quit being such a stick in the mud and lighten up - take a lesson from the "How's Your News" crew.

By the way, this video below may be my favorite:


Bobby Kicks Some Ass from How's Your News? on Vimeo.

Monday, March 2, 2009

WWBD

WHAT??? 15 fukkin inches of snow??? It's March!!! I just started seeing my grass again, pulled the Christmas wreath down from the front of the house and opened my shed to give my bike a big welcome back hug. And this morning a friggin' blizzard is dumping piles of white hell all over my world. Am I sounding a bit agitated??? Well, perhaps that is because I am more stressed out than a one armed man with an itchy ass hanging from a branch. Now THAT'S some serious anxiety right there. But now to what is currently occupying space in my otherwise empty head... the Pats!!!

In Bill We Trust... that is the the long standing motto of Patriot nation. It has been since 2001 when Billy Boy started making all the right decisions. From sticking with Brady over mud footed Drew Bledsoe to cutting the sleeves on his grey hoody to dumping his wife for this little prize, Grumpy Bill has continued to make all the right calls. So, when he and the Pats shipped Matt Cassell and Mike Vrabel off to Kansas City this weekend for a ham sandwich and an autographed picture of George Brett, we should have no reason to doubt him. This has got to turn out to be a good deal, right? I mean, they did free up nearly $24 million in salary cap room. Here's hoping they use that money to bring in, say someone like Julius Peppers or Ray Lewis. Shit, Belichick is so worshiped around these parts that he could use the money to coax Manny Ramirez off the left coast, teach him how to play football and Manny would become a hard working athlete that will not stop hustling until the final whistle. I mean it... WWBD people... WWBD?
So, here I sit amid the sounds of the town plows tearing up and down my street, pondering the world that is New England sports. The Celtics lost yesterday because they could not hit a shot as the clock ticked down in the 4th quarter. Yet, they pick up perennial malcontent superstar in his own mind Stephan Marbury and the fans give him a standing freakin' O!!! The Bruins have cooled off just a little since the all star break, but they are still one of the top teams in the league. The Sox are playing a boys game down in Florida this month, with perhaps the best starting pitching in baseball, except for maybe the Spankees. Francona has his glasses on and spring is on its way. And the Pats will have their quarterback back. Yeah, I know Cassel did his job, but Brady is Brady (PS...to all you national sportswriters that love to read my stuff, Ben Rawfishburger is NOT up there with Brady yet). And don't give me that shit about how being married to a smoking hot supermodel might affect his brilliance on the field. Here's the deal there.... Tommy Boy will now simply operate out of the no-huddle two-minute offense all season just to get home quicker and motorboat those hooters till the sun comes up. YAHOOO... must be good to be TFB (Tommy Fahkin Brady).