I'm Bacccckkkkkkk!

Holy Shit. I cannot believe my ass hasn't blogged anything in three months. I guess too many trips to that wretched state of Florida and generally working my ass off has taken it's toll. Alas, I'm back and it's probably because this little story really chapped my now very small ass...

See this kitten?



He's dead because some stupid-ass zookeeper fucked up. How wrong is that?

I hope the bitch rots in hell and I prey kitty is eatin' fat-n-happy behind the pearly gates.

What does Carlos Mencia say? "Why did the tiger scratch me?? Because he's a fucking TIGER!"


Too bad the leopard didn't eat this asshole...





I've forgotten to breathe - I'm talking the inhale/outhale shit that all of us have to do. It's just GONE. But the doc put me on killer meds that make my pulse rate run about 95 sitting down. I asked him if I was going to have a stroke at 37, but he said more likely a heart attack - thanks, Doc.


First Trip to Florida - overall... good. Man, did that boy trash the place. The bonus being that his furniture works in Daddy's house and the piece of artwork that FreakBoy left behind looks killer in my dining room.

The scum-sucking-shitball-methhead-pedophiliac moved out of Mother's. I guess several letters threatening him with eviction weren't enough. However, after a rather LOUD discussion with Big Joe over Christmas, the asshole was out the door. It's really odd to clean up a place where a stranger lived for so long and to legally go through their shit. What an oddball, nutsack this cat was. Stories of this wacko will be legendary. Man, did that boy trash the place. And, he left in such a hurry, he left clothes in the dryer AND the washing machine. GO JOE!

I will say that when you go through someone's shit --- you will know more about them than they know about themselves. That being said, that Mega-MoeRon-Assholio still begs me to ask the question: what the FUCK were you doing, Man????? I've worked at GA Tech for almost 13 years ---- I've seen it all -- or so I thought, but Christ. I'm still trying to figure your sorry ass out.

You were/are addicted to something.
I thought it was meth or ice. I'm not so sure now.
Then I thought booze, but I'm addicted to that shit and I'd leave traces behind.

Trip home - not so good. We got totally lost in the complete dark in a shithole called Palm Coast. Actually, it turned out to be a really nice place once the sun came up and we could see, but Florida has something against streetlights and when you've been busting your ass for 18 hours straight, you're in no mood to tour a dark, dank resort town.

When we got to the condo, it happened to be right next to a construction site. I guess the site had some drainage problems because about 20 meters outside my door was a massive 700 Hp pump, running at full speed. I was so tired the first night, I just crashed and ignored it, but the second day - well, that's when I made the critical decision... kill the pump and toss the key into the swamp.

That was a good, peaceful sleep. I can still see those sheep.

Maybe I shouldn't have thrown the key into the swamp considering we got about 3 inches of rain Sunday morning, but FUCK 'EM. It was too godamn loud and I needed to sleep. Me-me-me.


Sadly, I didn't latch the door on the truck so two of the leaves to the dining room table are somewhere in splinters on I-95. Oh, and a note to self - if you try to re-screw legs on a completely round dining room table, lay it down. If the fucking thing weighs 60 lbs AND it's round, setting it on it's side is not the brightest thing to do. It will rolllllllllll. I can assure you. It's rounddddddd. Jesus, sometime I even impress myself with my stupidity. I almost squashed a cat.

Guess who likes the colour green? Guess who also likes the "Georgia" font? Guess who's been playing with the new blog format? Never give a child a new toy and not expect said toy to be completely trashed in five minutes.

One more trip to Florida, two more trips to Augusta. Then the Master's, then California. Keeps me from getting bored. If I can't rent the house out this year, I'll probably just go to the stupid tournament anyway even though I'm really too old to drink gallons of beer and sit my ass on Hole 16 anymore. Kim won't be able to go because she will be the mother of #4 on St. Patty's Day, Brande can't go 'cause she has to teach, Stephie is AWOL, but I don't think she wants to come back to Augusta since her parents passed. Of course, there is always a Boatwright or a Leonard around to play with --- but again, I really am too old for this shit anymore.

Speaking of Daddy's house, what the hell is the point in owning such a big house and only living in 3 rooms? All the doors need replacing, the carpet is crap, the appliances and kitchen floor should be nuked. All in a day's work. Actually, I'm seriously running out of gas. Maybe it's better that I can't find a renter. That way, I can take my time. Ah, karma will tell.

Then there was the Oscars. My favourite time. I always spend the week before racing out to see all the I can. "The Departed", "The Prestige" (damn, that Christian Bale is a gift from the heavens), "The Devil Wears Prada" (Meryl Streep is one of the coolest actresses out there even though it ain't that tough to play a bitch - I should know. But THE BEST MOVIE ALL YEAR... drumroll, please...

"Pan's Labryinth"

Sadly, it did not win for best foreign language film. I saw it Sunday and as far as I'm concerned, it should have won for best film. Yeah, OK, so it won all the other weinie awards, but that was THE most haunting movie I have seen in ????? I knew this would be an intense movie, but D-A-M-N. I'm still having nightmares. I'm glad Scorsese won for the first time, although "The Departed" shouldn't have been too tough to direct considering the fucking cast. Besides, it really wasn't a big surprise when Lucas, Speilberg, and Coppella showed up to present the fucking award.

Here are my Oscar bits:

Best Award: Al Gore for "Inconvenient Truth". Hell, he could win the Presidency if he ran today. Anyone would pick him over Hillary or Obama, especially when you have rednecks running around saying shit like, "I ain't gonna vote for nobody who's gotta name that sounds like Osama". Please GIVE me a fucking break.

Best Song: Melissa Ethridge. She's just about as cool as it gets and considering the song was the theme to an "Inconvenient Truth", well, 'nuff said.

Best Host since Robin Williams: Ellen. She did a great job. It was never a boring show.

Best Looking Chicka:




The girl finally dumped that scum-sucking pig and now she rules. You go, Girl.

Dumbiest dress: Well it's a toss up, here.



What the fuck is with the Cat-in-the-hat bow tie thing? I only have one question, "why"?

I guess I have another question... where does one find a pink duck?





Man who most needs to have my child:



Who's that fat chick he's with? Just kidding. Somebody should throw her a twinkie. Besides, if this boy isn't available, I'll suffer with Mark Wahlberg. Yeah, he used to call himself Markie-Mark, but I used to have yellow hair. We all make mistakes.

Best joke: Steve Carrell and Greg Kinnear cracking on sex. Maybe it wasn't all that funny, but if you aren't getting any then a joke about sex is really a joke.

Enough about the Oscars: Also in the news... Anna Nicole Smith needs to be pushing up daisies somewhere. Now that's a joke. Oh and speaking of dead losers, if I hear anymore shit about Britney Spears, she's be pushing up daisies.

Oh, and if a suicide bomber can kill 100 people in one day in Baghdad, what's so hard about killing one vice-president asshole in Pakistan? Oh, yeah, and Pakistan is our friend. Smeagle says, no trixie, no trixie.

Speaking of Smeagle, AmberGrace finally went to the doctor yesterday and he seems to think her neurosis is actually hyperthyroidism. If the blood panel proves that then I might not have to commit myself. The doctor said that if she does have hyperthyroidism, it's the most extreme case he's ever seen and he wants to video tape it. I told him he could keep her for a long as he wanted.

Tax time is coming and I'm looking forward to re-scheduling the Los Roques sailing trip. Seven nights, floating around in a boat - no meowing cats, barking dogs, sirens, horns, rap music, bullet shots, train whistles. How the fuck am I going to sleep?

Finally, a Name

Means "Atlanta Beauty"

Whoo, hooo! Finally. The AJC and other news agencies have driven this story down well past the ninth circle of hell. She's a panda, OK, I get it - rare, hard to breed, cute, blah, blah, blah.

But after her fiftieth medical exam, which the media covered like white on rice, she bleated out this noise that everyone thought was soooooo cuuuutte. However, and I don't speak fluent "panda", I think she was really saying one thing... "Yea! I've got a name. Now would you please quit sticking shit in my eyes, ears, and ass and just leave me the fuck alone."

I love Craigslist

I got so many emails from this little rant, I cannot help but say, "thank you". All of it's true, albeit a mixed story of events... gotta love us City Rats and "thanks" to all you that emailed. Makes me feel like my degree is not lost money. One day, I'm gonna get busted, though, I know. Then my house will catch fire. Please save my cats.


Let me start by saying, if I have the flu and choose to take half a bottle of DayQuill, three Red Bulls, and a sugar cookie for breakfast - watch out if I'm behind the wheel of my car. It's a total piece of shit and I could care less who I hit or vice versa.

That being said, here are a few rules you may want to consider if I happen to be on the road with you in downtown traffic at 7:30 in the morning...

First, to the two assholes who cut me off at the intersection of North Ave and Spring St. this morning. I'm so glad you sped through the light and didn't get a chance to see the "flash" from the traffic cameras. Just so you know, that card you get in the mail in a few days won't be a "Merry Christmas" from APD, trust me. I guess the four signs, WITH a picture of a fucking camera on it (just in case you don't habla english), isn't enough for you. Oh, and I loved the fact that when we got to the next light, I was right behind you. How's does it feel to piss away 2 bucks a gallon for gas and a 70 dollar ticket just to beat me to the red light thirty feet away?

Second, speaking of assholes who want to wizz past me and cut me off, ESPECIALLY at the intersection of Piedmont and Edgewood, I've got some news for you in case you missed the excitement. The construction contractors working on that site have no idea what a boiler plate is so when you hit that massive crater in the far left lane going 50 miles and hour... well, I can only hope you enjoy the new CV axles and front end alignment you now need, Shithead.

Third, if you drive a tractor trailer and have no manifest to be in the city limits, I will gladly report your tag number to the DOT. I really don't care if they bust you now or later, your tag will be on file. After all, if I have to sit on the Connector going retard-speed, so do you.

Fourth, if you have Fulton or Dekalb plates and you're traveling south on Boulevard at Edgewood, I know that YOU know the road changes to one lane. Do not pass me while I sit in traffic, then get to the light and think I'm going to let you in, especially when you don't even have the courtesy of using a turn signal. You know who you are, Skany-HoodRat. By the way, how the fuck can someone drive a car, put on makeup, talk on the phone, and eat a godam greasy biscuit at the same time? Maybe instead of buying those stupid, fucking spinning rims, (which are worth more than the car you're driving and the house you're renting), you might consider Driver's Ed.

Fifth, and this is pure physics here, Princess. Call it a backward-ass form of Newton's Law - If I'm in my car, and you are crossing an intersection AND you see a BIG RED HAND on the pedestrian light, simply put - I'll run your ass over. If I'm in a generally good mood, though, I may just bump it into the curb, all the while blowing my horn in your face. Yeah, something does work on my car after all. Sweet Jesus, are you colorblind or just a crackhead?

Lastly, getting back to signaling - that lever that sticks out on the left side of your steering wheel ain't there just so you can wipe your boogers on it. Yeah, I saw you do it. It's actually called a turn signal. Trust me, Bubba, if you use it, you won't decrease the trade-in value on your pickup. As a matter of fact, you might spare yourself the heartburn of me ROYALLY fucking with you in my aforementioned piece-of-shit automobile. I can, and will, run you into a concrete barrier wall in a flat second. Just see if those dumbass chain-linked fences on the overpass will save you from a nosedive 30 feet into on-coming traffic.

Oh, one more thing. For all you A-tow people NEWS FLASH: you are not NASCAR drivers, and no, it's not Disneyworld - no matter how much you want to pretend. Go back to junior high and drop some more blotter acid. At least you'll be too fucked up to have a job driving mach speed with other people's cars in tow.

Ahh, I feel much better now.

You Cheat - You Pay

So, I have a boring job. I mean, really, really boring job. I also happen to have a ton of shit that I need to do to finish my home project so I can be "truly" productive (it's all about self-gratification, right?)

So I call in sick on Friday. I get a lot of stuff done and I am happy about the progress...

Guess who's deathly sick on Saturday? Yup. It's either that retard cat gave me her cold or I got her's; either way, I'm screwed. I only wish my head would feel as light as a Macy's Day Parade balloon, but I really don't need the girth, I promise. Somehow my sinuses became the most productive snot factory on Planet Earth and my lips are cracked like the surface of the Moon. And, thanks to the fact that I have no toilet paper, I have to wipe my nose with Bounty-the-Quicker-Picker-Upper. As rough as it is on your asshole, it ain't much better on your raw nose, either. Trust me, folks. But, considering the absorbant-qualities, I should be saving a few trees. HaHa - look at me - the Martyr.

Oh, and if someone else could drag another piece of 60-grit sandpaper across my larynx, I might actually pass out and get moment's peace.

In the meantime; I do not stuggle too much to remember the basics - It's Christmas time, I have people who love me, and Sudafed, Tylenol, green tea, and a nugget of grass (if I can manage to breathe long enough), are in proximity.

This is a total rip, but karma is karma.

For all you about to go out and party tonight - have fun you twisted, healthy fucksticks.

Gotta run, 'cause it's Hankie Time

Look Who Came by the House

Look Who Came By the House


Yeah, cheesy, but I love this show and Snow Miser, Heat Miser, and their Mom, Mother Nature. I've been watching this show for 30+ years and it does not get any better - all you reindeer people need to piss off.

OK, simply put, it's fucking cold. Weather guy said nineteen, not ninety. Interesting how one letter can mean the difference between wool socks and laying out by the pool. Also, funny how I can say that in three languages, but it still doesn't take away the fact that I'm freezing my ass off.

I live in Atlanta so I don't have to deal with cold, but Canada sent it down and I have to deal with it - at least for the next few days. If nothing else, it motivates me to do laundry (gotta love that gas dryer) and bake (gotta love a gas oven) - lest we forget the itty-bitty space heater. Mum said turkey takes the longest to bake, but I'm a vegetarian so I might be giving a gift to the homeless today. Also, cheesecake, but I'm trying to lose another 5 lbs before the glory-road-trip to Orlando next week. I guess there's another donation to the homeless?

I even put my feral outdoor cat in the basement because I was worried about her in the cold. She happens to be the mother of the cat I had to put to sleep and for some reason, I've become very protective of her. I really didn't think she would want to be confined in the basement, but when I went to check on her, she was sitting on the old chair, and gave me a look that definitively said, "Fuck off, I'm just fine inside, thank you much". OK, I get it. No amount of body fur can compensate for 19 degrees.

ON WARD - Time to set up the new, Sony, 1000 Watt, 5 disc CD changer, DVD badass MF I got for Christmas. This should be fun. I really have no idea what I'm doing, but a bloody mary and a shorty should help - Hardy har har. Joke's on me -- I don't have any vodka. Seriously, though, it beats the shit out of the 1980's "stereo" I had in the den. Too bad I can't crank it to 1,000 Watts because I would have to pick my 100-year old windows out of the neighbour's yard.

Josh Groban - My December



Even though I opposed a war in Iraq before it happened AND I detest the pigshit we have as the US President, I do appreciate the men and women who do what I cannot - protect and serve this country with their lives.

Hopefully with a new Congress and a new sense of what rightly needs to be done, this will be the last December in my lifetime where people are fighting a needless war. Let this be said to those in Sudan, South America, and Asia as well.

God Bless.

This is Where I Live

I posted this on Craigslist R&R (yeah, I know I said I wouldn't read it, but I still use it for venting). Anyway, I post this, and suddenly I'm inundated with Bubbas all over the state wanting my picture and a date. Go figure. Incidentally, all of this was true except I'm not licensed to carry a handgun. Obviously for good reason.


A Warning to the Redneck...

... who hassled me on 285 this afternoon. You know who you are, Asshole. Driving that old green Ford Bronco with Douglas tags. You drove so close to my car, I thought you were going to hit me. I purposely got off three exits earlier so I wouldn't hurt you or anyone else on the road.

Let me explain... I am mid 30s, I have long hair and good "features". I'm 5'9, 135 lbs. Not to sound pompous, but I've been told I'm "pretty". Normally, I wear jeans and t-shirts with no make-up so as not to attract attention. On occasion, though, I have to "get dressed up", with skirt, heels, and makeup, blah-blah like today. News flash --- This is not meant as an invitation to you, Scumbag.

When you play "footsie" with me on I-285 going 70 miles an hour, it is not safe. Repeat that one with me, Junior - IT'S NOT SAFE. It's not safe on so many levels, but one that you may not be aware of is that I am licensed to carry a firearm--- and I do. As a matter of fact, I just love my pretty little luger and I've used it before, although not on a human... yet.

However; going mach speed on the Interstate with me behind the wheel - well, even I'm not that good a shot. So my next thought was to blow out one of your tires or your rear window (that would have been fun), but that could potentially hurt me and other innocents as well. I guess that's why I just exited early. Better part of valor.

What the hell is wrong with a guy who honestly thinks that if he wags his tounge at you and pretends to jerk off, you'll pull over and blow him. HELLO??

Hey, Redneck - stay in Douglas County or better yet, go back to that shallow gene pool you crawled out of.

This is Just Too Easy

Amazing!

"Seven days from now I will send rain on the earth for forty days and forty nights, and I will wipe from the face of the earth every living creature I have made."


Well, I don't know about 40 days and 40 nights, but trust me...

TWO are plenty enough for me.

I just heard the weatherman say (laughing): "How 'bout that folks! Seven days of rain in just three hours - AMAZING!"

Well guess what, Wonder Boy? Guess what I consider "amazing"? The fact I haven't driven down to the news station, kicked your ass square, then dragged you back to my house to pump out the flooding basement.

Hardy-har-har.

Rants and Raves, Southern Style

Have you ever gone to "Best of Craigslist"?

These are posts that people -everywhere- vote to be the "best of" in rants and raves. Most of them are very funny and leave me laughing with a smile on my face or pondering serious questions. Have you ever noticed that NONE of them are from Atlanta's R&R. I wonder why?

Ya think... maybe it's because nine times out of ten (that's "9 / 10" for those of you who cannot read), these posts are:

#1 Apolitical (to you undereducated that word means "not" political)

#2 Anti-racist (to you under-cultured that means not hating because of skin colour)

#3 Anti-misogynistic (to you lacking proper upbringing that means not women hating)

And mostly, they are

#4 English speaking (to those of you who are uneducated, hmmmmmmm---- that means they know how to spell, write, and respond in a proper communication form that only those of us who walk upright and happen not to be a resident of Zoo Atlanta can understand).

Sweet Christ, quit with the "holier-than Thou" bullshit, you whiney-ass racists, ignorant, backward-ass possums (oops - that would actually be "opossums") and let it go. All the angst they publish on Atlanta's CL R&R gives me a slight hole in my stomach so it must create craters in theirs. If there is so much hatred in this city, how can we be expected to be deemed an "international" city?

I'm going to find another vent - Atlanta's is way too suicidal for anyone sane to read.

Good luck with your survival, Atlantans.

Bocelli + Zucchero

I sent this to some of those three people who read my blog, but I figured there would be a chance someone out there appreciates a rare find - at least for me - and I would find great pleasure in offering it up to those who chance by it.

This blew me out of the water and I'm old school, which means I know Zucchero's stuff back in the late 80s.

I'm still working on the translation, but it's interesting that the more I understand the lyrics, the more ironically, karmically appealing it is for me right now.

Really, you must save this to your best sound system and krank it up.


Andrea Bocelli & Zucchero - Miserere



Miserere, miserere
Miserere, misero me
Pero brindo alla vita!

Ma che mistero, e la mia vita
Che mistero
Sono un peccatore dell'anno ottantamila
Un menzognero!

Ma dove sono e cosa faccio
Come vivo?

Vivo nell'anima del mondo
Perso nel vivere profondo!

Miserere, misero me
Pero brindo alla vita!

Io sono il santo che ti ha tradito
Quando eri solo
E vivo altrove e osservo il mondo
Dal cielo

E vedo il mare e le foreste
Vedo me che....

Vivo nell'anima del mondo
Perso nel vivere profondo!
Miserere, misero me
Pero brindo alla vita!

Se c'e una notte buia abbastanza
Da nascondermi, nascondermi

Se c'e una luce, una speranza
Sole magnifico che splendi dentro di me
Dammi la gioia di vivere che ancora non c'e

Miserere, miserere

Quella gioia di vivere(che forse)
Ancora non c'e.

Veteran's Day

So I tend to slam the shit out of the US President and one of my posts seemed to rile up Army folks, but in the bottom of my frozen, microscopic heart, I do appreciate the fact that others can do something I can't - pick up a weapon and defend the people of this country. Without you, I wouldn't have a voice with which to critisize.

Thank you and happy Veteran's Day.

Four Stages of Life

or at least someone's twisted perception...

Waiting On the World To Change - John Mayer

It will happen sooner than we think. Thank God!

Licking Wounds?

Go Figure

The entire country (except maybe Virginia) has woken up, smelled the coffee and finally voted for the one party in the US that does not see the Iraq war as an offense against humanity...

except ------------- GEE-ORR-GEE-AHH

Somehow, enough retarded fucking rednecks found their voting cards and - in THIS backward ass state - they managed to elect a Republican governor, a Republican Lt. Governor, AND a Republican Secretary of State.

Why do I feel like the red ass of a babboon on the country's map?

Lord, please deliver me from Stupidville.

Goodbye, Little Man

Emmett and Anna 2005




I had to do something today that I've never had to do before. I had to put my Little Man to sleep so he wouldn't suffer anymore. He was only four years old (he would have been five on Valentine's Day) and the doctors said it was extremely rare for a cat that young to have such severe kidney disease and the end came on very quickly. He actually climbed into my lap Thursday night and tucked his head under my arm. I think that's when he told me it was time for him to go, but I still didn't want to admit it. Friday morning, he came to me again, this time he looked right at me and cried. He was in real pain and I knew it was time.

I didn't want him to die in the hospital. I didn't want him to die with strangers around him. I wanted him to die at home, but when I went to visit him yesterday, he didn't look like my Little Man, he looked like he was in a drug-relieved state of non-existence. It took about ten minutes of scratches under the chin for him to even seem to know who I was, but the doctor said if I brought him home, he would die slowly of dehydration, which is no way to go, either.

Emmett showed up on the doorstep four years ago. Just like God dropped him off and said, "Have at it - your first boy". And what a handful he's been. He always beat up on Ms. Sterling, always tried to be the first to escape to the outside and he even stole BYT from the Baby. How cruel to give him to me for only four years, then take him away so quickly (and no, Father Fitz, I don't want to read the Book of Job - again!)

Anna is the saddest because he was definately her best friend, but all the cats know he won't be coming home again.

I know God will take the best care of him, I'm just being selfish because I love my Little Man so much and the emptiness is breathtaking.

Goodbye, Poppy. I'll see you again one day.

I'm so sorry and I will always love you so very much.

Did You Know....

...that tears can bounce?

I mean, they bounce off your shirt, your glasses, the desk where you're working... hell, even off the soil where you just planted Spring's hyacinths.

Just like a jai-alai ball.

It must have something to do with physics and acceleration and velocity and all that Einstein-Happy-Horseshit, but tears really can bounce.

Makes me want to say, "Hmmmmmmmm".

Why Democrats are Considered Weak

First off, I'm not a Democrat, much less a Fascist Republican. I'm a card-carrying Socialist, but in this country most people honestly do not know what that means (oh, and to you immigration Nazis - I am a legal American citizen). Regardless, the best I can do to express my political preferences is to vote Democrat, which entitles me to espouse why I believe the Dems may have blown it come Tuesday.

No, it's not what Kerry said about lack of education and the military (albeit that being true), it's about the fact that he f-u-c-k-i-n-g pussed out and apologized for it. Lest we forget, John Kerry is no longer the poster child for the Democratic Party (as a matter-of-fact, one of the biggest problems the Dems have is that there is no admirable, worthy person to represent their party). But, if you chose to make a comment that is taken out of context and republished by the likes of Hannidy and that idiot nimrod, Tucker Carlson, AND your own party will not back you up, why the hell do you back down and apologize? Grow some balls, or at least attempt a nutsack, for fuck sake.

Let me tell you about the military.

Case #1 - I am an Army brat, my father was one of the poorest kids I'd ever heard about. When he graduated high school in bumfuck Oklahoma, it was either work for the county picking up trash on I-20 or join the military if he wanted a college education. He chose the military. After 25 years, he retired, an officer with a lucrative pension. Yeah, go Army.

Case #2 - My ex-fiancé was a hell-raising, kick-ass 6'3, 245 pound asshole with an IQ of a hamster who figured out the best way to live life was rage against the machine. Well, when he was 18, The Machine (in the form of a criminal court judge) gave him two choices when he appeared before the Reno court for robbery, drugs, and lots of other sundries that need not be mentioned... GO ARMY or GO JAIL. Guess what he chose? That's easy, right? Guess what his MOS was (for you dipshits out there, that means your specialty)... E.O.D. Explosive Ordinance Division. That's right - the ARMY gave him fucking bombs to play with. Long story short, I finally realized the short fuse on this guy (no pun intended) and left before it got ugly. Turns out, after his stint in Bosnia, he came back to the US, claimed he ruined his back, collected full disability and went on to graduate college with a degree in golf management. Yup, he now lives in San Diego - on your fucking dime - and runs a luxury golf course. I guess we tax monkeys are the dumbnuts.

Case #3 - My office is down the hall from an ARMY ROTC office. Every time I have to use the restroom or go to the water cooler or go to the parking lot, I have to pass by these Neanderthals and all their "Rah, Rah, Rah" posters, pictures of the Bush Nazis, and their conference rooms. Yesterday, I walked passed the room when they were trying to come up with ways to convince the incoming freshmen why it was best for them to sign-up so they wouldn't have to pay their exorbitant college tuition. One assmunch said to tell them the media was wrong... "We won't send you for more than one tour in three years". What? Hello, there are battalions out there on their fourth and fifth fucking tour in Iraq right now and we've "only" been at war for four years. I guess they figure if you're too stupid to read a goddamn newspaper, you're just smart enough to enlist.

Recruiters are amoral pigshits who should rot in hell.

All that being said, I know all about the military. I have lived in countries where the draft is fully in place and men and women gladly join to do their time because they trust their government is not going to send them off to get shot just to fatten the pockets of those on the highest ladder rung. In this country, you generally have a choice when you join the military...

You are:
#1 Stupid
#2 Lazy
#3 Poor
or, my personal favorite
#4 You simply want to blow someone's fucking head off.


Kerry was an idiot for saying what he said. He should have apologized for being an idiot - simple. Go home, John and write a fucking book or something. Better yet, if you're going to open your mouth about the military, why not remind people that you were a Yale grad, lots of dough in pocket, and still volunteered for three fucking tours in Vietnam. That's half the number of times Bush and Cheney were pardoned for service.

Get your shit together, Dems or things will only swirl closer to the ninth circle of Hell.

All Saints

I went to early Mass this morning, which turned out to be a good call because only about 40 people showed up. Sadly, with as much money as I give my Church, they couldn't see fit to turn the heat on and it was ass-freeze temperature in that big, bad stonewalled cathedral. But I stuck it out - even through the closing prayer. I normally skip out after communion, but Father Fitzpatrick once busted us doing that and announced to the entire congregation, "Well, lest we forget that Judas was the first to leave also".

Anyway, Father Cordoba had a very interesting little homily. He started off reminding his flock as to why we were there, 6:45 in the A.M., freezing our prementioned asses off... We are asked to remember the saints, and not just those whom stories were written about or the ones who have been canonized. He asked us to think of someone we considered a saint and to focus on that person.

Just then, the sun came up and the rays illuminated through the massive stained glass above the altar. The priest said, "I always remember my dad. He was the kindest person I ever knew. He had the most amazing laugh and hearing it made us all laugh with him. I miss him every day, but on All Saints Day is when I feel him with me."

Well, that was it for me. At that moment, I suddenly started whimpering like a three-year old because I truly felt the prescence of my Grandfather. He was there in the Cathedral, laughing his laugh, and dipping a spoon covered with peanut butter into a bag of chocolate chips. What an amazing moment, especially considering he passed away 14 years ago today.

It was so good to see you again, Grampy.


Then, Father Cordoba said, "And I remember my mother's sister. A lovely woman, stern, but caring and never selfish", and suddenly the tears turned to mortal fear as my Aunt Doris showed up and smacked me on the back of my head for not remembering her first.


Two of My Favourite Saints




To all those who have passed that I knew and loved (to include my Booja, Markie, Linus, Snatch, Mortica, Cleo, and everyone else), Happy Saints Day.