I Have A Dreamsicle

this link should take you to stephen colbert's "i have a dreamsicle" speech. extremely funny.
also, this one is a great spoof on the pc vs. mac commercials.

Fee To Flee

(from CNN)
Before being evacuated on U.S.-chartered ships, Americans are being asked to sign promissory notes to repay the U.S. government for the journey.
That demand outraged House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi, who said the United States has an obligation to get citizens out of harm's way without "quibbling over payment."
"A nation that can provide more than $300 billion for a war in Iraq can provide the money to get its people out of Lebanon," the California Democrat said in a statement. "I call upon the president to remove one worry from the minds of stranded American citizens in Lebanon and their families back home by declaring immediately that their country will bear the costs of bringing them to safety."
White House spokesman Tony Snow said Tuesday that the payments -- or "reimbursements" -- to the State Department were mandated under the 2003 Foreign Relations Authorization Act passed by Congress.

hmmm...i suppose a small price to pay in return for being swept to safety from a foreign country one has chosen to live in. however, pelosi does have a point. makes me wonder...

Fuck You Friday #2

all this week i've been sinus problems. lots of snottiness, making me cough, sore throat in the morning and generally cranky. and i'm fucking sick of it. so, you know what?
Fuck You, Sinuses! and a Happy Fuck You Friday to all!!!!!

now, go to MG's site to play and/or comment and check out everyone else's.
Man, I love saying "fuck". fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

G'Day

so, this is my new toy. it took me about an hour today to figure out how to assemble the tripod and mount (used, no instruction manual), but i did it. tonight i will take it outside and run it through its paces. some neat accessories to it. a telrad scope, a simple motor drive, a 90 degree diagonal. should be fun and just in time for the Mars Opposition, which will begin next month (closest Mars will be in the last 5000 years [ that's as far back as recorded history goes astronomically, so it's probably been a lot longer]).
this is a two inch upgrade from my previous scope. the previous showed saturn's rings and jupiter's storm band, but this one should get a lot closer and provide more detail. i'll be able to see the polar caps on mars very well now.
and next thursday i'll be down at the local tat shop working on an HNT shot when i get this (look down) put on my left shoulder/bicep. i have three already (two by this artist) and all done by men, so this time i've chosen to have a woman ink this baby. her portfolio is pretty awesome and some of her style is exactly what will be needed for this. it will, of course, lose a bit of the fine detail, but she and i will improvise on that in order to keep the overall continuity as is.
so, a good day all in all. new toy, new tat. some broad coming over to love me up. yeah. good day in the 'No.

add on (9:38 pm) what's with the fucking clouds? i'm sitting here waiting to take out the scope and it's cloudy. nothing to see, dammit!
also, the Dixie Chicks are coming to town on thursday, september 6 (very, very close to my birthday). i'm thinking of going.

Ambiguous HNT

Jedi? Monk? Unabomber? 7-11 surveillance camera? Welcome to this week's Ambiguous HNT.

Perhaps, though, it's just P(en)ith Envy. Have a happy HNT, y'all. And go here to check out the master of it all.

Day 17: Monkey Sees Forest, Counts Trees, Spews Snot

well, the wellbutrin is a neat drug. it increases my focus at work, it keeps me in a good mood even when i'm pissed off, it suppresses my appetite somewhat so that my shorts sag halfway down my butt...
...but it hasn't stopped my smoking. yes, it has cut my intake by about half if i'm not at lipari's having drinks. but it hasn't stopped the cravings as was advertised...
...so, i continue to smoke, but at a much reduced rate. it's somewhat of a victory for the moment. however, i am producing snot at like no one's business. why? i don't know. it might be the air conditioners in my house. i cannot sleep unless air is circulating over my body. that stems from a childhood of sleeping directly under the swamp cooler. it provided lots of moving air and white noise. very lulling...
...but now i am swimming in snot. no infection, it's nice and white when it comes out. but something's rotten in the state of snotmark. snot is dead cells and i want to know what died inside of me. it seems like it was the size of new jersey. if i was a sculpter (but, then again, no) i could have made a life-size cow by now with my snot, complete with swollen udders...
...i'm probably calling in sick to work again tomorrow, because i can't breathe when i wake up and it takes a couple of hours of sitting up for the snot to drain from my sinuses, into my throat, into my mouth and into the toilet...
...oh, by the by, i sold my rifle to herb bauer. herb will quarantine the gun for thirty days. why? i can only think that, because it's a ruger (german), he wants to make sure it isn't harboring any mad cow disease or something. and what i found funny is that the "cop" who showed up to confiscate my old ammo didn't even own a gun. he talked of wanting to buy one, though. made me feel a bit of pity for a guy who wears a badge, but isn't allowed to carry a weapon or handcuffs or billyclub or bigass radio or mace or taser. and he asked me why i didn't just go out to the auberry range and shoot it all. he didn't want to take the ammo. he admired my rifle( funny that when i pulled it from its case he didn't even flinch as the barrel tacked right across his belly. a real cop would have caught the barrel and read me my rights). but he did insist that i sell the gun and not give it to him for processing. said the paperwork would suck and i could get a few bucks for it, which i did...
...which makes me think of alberto gonzales who DID NOT fall on the sword for bush and cronies this week. while alberto is a weasel of the worst kind (hiding behind word parsing in order to not have to ever take a concrete stand on anything) he placed the blame for obstruction of justice squarely in the lap of bush and it was a sweet kind of pyrrhic victory (a victory achieved at great or excessive cost; a ruinous victory). why pyrrhic? because nothing will come of it. the members of congress are so cowed by this administration and so concerned with winning their seats back and giving themselves raises now that accepting bribes has become harder to do that they cannot waste time chasing white elephants across the room...
...and my balls no longer itch, but i keep on scratching anyway...

Gun Guy No More...?

ahhh...taking the day off from work today. woke up at my usual time of 4:45 and discovered that my allergies had spent the night KICKING MY ASS. i reset my alarm for 6:00, then 7:00. shortly before 8 i knew i had to call in sick. lots of snot and coughing. yummie.
but, true to my nature, i can't sit still and chill. so, i've decided to dispose of my old .22 ammunition. i haven't shot my rifle (shut up, APJ) since 2000 and the bullets have been sitting and growing old for as long.
now, when you use google to look for disposal means in and around the 'No nothing shows up. no private outfits, no government contractors. only one website (from the east coast) had any advice at all. to wit: call the cops! so, i did.
yes, the police are the ones to call. they even make house calls. i was given two choices: drop the unwanted ammo off at the nearest station or request a drive-by (so to speak). the dispatcher told me the second option was best, because it's not always so easy to find a uniform at the subdivision stations (plus, they get to snoop around my pad and give me impersonal glares like they know where i keep the kilo of hash, the dead bodies and the illegal immigrants).
and here i wait for fresno's finest to come and service me (shutUP, APJ!).
after that i think i shall make a decision on what to do with the rifle. i have been wrestling with the idea of ridding myself of the weapon for a few years now. it's not a matter of not wanting a weapon in my house. no children live with me, i am not a mean drinker, the rifle has a lock mechanism in place and i don't even know where the bullet clips are anymore. pretty safe all around. but if i am not going to touch it again except to periodically take it out and oil it up (i'm WARNING you, APJ, one more time...to the moon!) then it's just silly baggage to cling to.
i've thought of selling it. in fact, i almost did once. fortunately, i had second thoughts about selling anything to hillbillies. i mean, i wouldn't mind getting a bit of money for it since i did spend money to get it in the first place. but i can't guarantee that the rifle would stay a safely cared-for piece. perhaps, i'll just hand it to the police today when they come by. i know they'll dispose of it properly. i don't think they resell weapons anymore (they did once upon a time if my memory isn't faulty).
i think i actually held on to the rifle for as long as i have, because of the responses i got from friends upon finding out i owned it. i am not a gun guy. never have been. but watching people's brains twist just a bit as they tried to digest this anamolous twig of information and square it with my personality was entertaining. shock value, i guess. now, it's just a reminder of a crazy time in my life that, while fun, was dangerous and stupid.
i think it's time to let this reminder of that time go. memories will suffice. and if they don't...there's always kowboi.

update: found the clip. it was nestled in with the rifle in its case, unloaded and apparently broken.

Still Scratching My Balls. And Smiling.

is that little sack at the bottom for some sort of steroidal clitoris? it looks like a circumcised penis. and is this a trophy for finishing first in some sort of triathalon i've not yet heard of? what would the three stages be?

so, i was sitting here in front of the computer and i realized that i haven't written a political rant in some time. and that made me wonder why. i scratched my head some, then i scratched it some more, then i switched to my balls for a while because my scalp had started to bleed.
i couldn't figure it out. my entire raison d'etre with this blog was to rant, to spew forth diabolic fulminations damning the bush administration for every woe commited unto us during the last 200 or so years.
and here i was scratching my head and sack and thinking of nothing vitriolic to say. why?
why?!?
it's not like bush and the boys haven't continued to provide me with plenty of ammunition. i mean, there's iraq, afghanistan, iran, north korea, illegal wiretapping, israel/lebanon, republican bribery scandals, ann coulter, bill o'reilly, robert novack, pat robertson, rush limbaugh, hurricane katrina, the EPA, the supreme court, guantanamo bay, secret renditions, on and on.
so, why am i not in the mood to dash them against the rocks of reality?
i don't know. perhaps, though, just perhaps i'm in a good mood of late and i don't really feel like it. perhaps, smiling is fun. perhaps, getting out and having some kind of social life seems more conducive to good mental health than staying in all of the time and thinking of a sexy pet name for my moniter.
perhaps.
then again, i'm still scratching my balls. and smiling.

Monday Morning Pictorial

A brother sent me some pictures of typical boys and their pasttimes. Ah, memories...

my man Kinky Friedman is still racin' for the Governor's chair down in Texas. ride 'em, jewboy.