Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Fine, YOU Try Saying "No" To Tysgirl

For some time now, Tysgirl, (linked to on your right as "Big Bundle of Fuck Me"), has been after me to do a list of '100 Things About Me'. I've been putting her off, telling her that I view it as something that everybody does and isn't all that creative, when the reality is that I'm just too fucking lazy to commit to such a project. However, Tysgirl is the sea that crashes relentlessly upon the mighty rocks, gradually wearing them down until they turn to sand. And since I wasn't all that mighty to begin with, here we are.

Get ready for the longest list you've ever slogged your way through.

1. I am right-handed. Not that this is at all interesting, (although that lack of interest will probably be a prevailing theme throughout this list), but aways back someone tagged me to write 8 things about me, and that's the one I started with. Consistency may indeed be the hobgoblin
of little minds, but I've always had a soft spot for hobgoblins.

2. I have a very good singing voice, assuming you enjoy the sound of a cat being raped. And who doesn't enjoy that? Besides the cat.

3. My favorite color is royal purple. In a related note, I am very secure with my sexuality.

4. If I am ever fortunate enough to run over Ann Coulter with my car, the only reason I would slow down is to make sure she heard me yell, "Take that cunt!"

5. That goes double for you Fred Phelps. Except I'd probably call you a "closeted fag" I like to make my derogatory name-calling fit the situation. It seems more civilized.

6. Thanks to a dedicated regimine of abdominal exercises, sometimes including up to 500 repetitions a session, I have rock-hard, well-defined abs. Thanks to an equally dedicated regimine of donuts and beer, I am able to protect those same abs with a thick layer of insulating blubber. But they're under there, trust me.

7. I have two tattoos. I have a third planned.

8. I used to have a pierced ear, but it kept getting infected. This is probably because a friend of mine pierced it by ramming the earring through my earlobe after "disinfecting" it in a glass of sambuca. Yes, I was drunk, why do you ask?

9. I've been married for 13 years. She has introduced me at weddings as "This is my first husband". Bitch.

10. I have two children. There will not be a third.

11. I cannot imagine living a full life without a big dog in it.

12. If I'm watching NASCAR, it's for the crashes.

13. The last book I read was "You Suck" by Christopher Moore. Knocked it off in one day. It is a sequel to his book "Bloodsucking Fiends", which I've also read. I recommend each book very highly, but only if you enjoy bitterly humorous books about sex, San Francisco, vampires, blue hookers and late-night frozen turkey bowling. Which should be pretty much all of you.

14. Christopher Moore did not pay me for #13, but I'd take his money if he did.

15. My favorite sport is baseball. My favorite team is the New York Yankees. My favorite player growing up was Don Mattingly. My favorite player of all time who died long before I was born and got a disease named after him is Lou Gehrig.

16. My favorite food would be hard to pin down, but on a consistent basis I'd have to say it would be a deep dish white pizza with sausage, eggplant and mushroom. Not least because no one else in my family likes mushrooms and therefore I am left alone to eat in peace.

17. In the warmer months. In the winter/colder months

18. Any time.
for some reason this won't line up correctly, but after finishing these bottles I don't think I can really be blamed for screwing up the margins here.

19. I spent two and a half years shoveling shit on a chicken farm to help pay for college. I've collected eggs, culled chickens and slaughtered turkeys. And I still eat poultry.

20. I am not a member of PETA.

21. My favorite band is The Supersuckers. I once read a review of one of their albums as "whiskey-fueled, hell-bound, tattooed rock and roll" Pretty much sums it up. Generally speaking I like loud bands with an emphasis on the guitar and who are still unknown enough to play in bars and smaller venues.

22. I can't see any point in paying $100+ to go to a stadium to see a band, I don't care if it The Rolling Stones. Stay home and watch it on TV; you'll be closer to the band and you won't get arrested for smoking pot.

23. I haven't smoked pot
since law school, (there's an advertisement for law school!), but for the life of me I can't see why it's illegal to smoke a joint but perfectly legal to drink a bottle of Jack Daniels.

24. I couldn't tell you what my favorite movie is, but if I had to divide it up by type, I'd have to say Slapshot or Bull Durham for sports, Unforgiven for westerns, ("deserve's got nuthin to do with it" has to be one of the best lines ever), and Roadhouse for comedy. Wait, Roadhouse isn't a comedy? You're shitting me. I laugh myself hoarse every time I watch that one. There are many other great ones out there, but "Miami Vice" isn't one of them.

25. I'm no world traveler like Party Girl, (not yet anyway), but of the cities I've visited, San Francisco
is probably my favorite, followed closely by New Orleans.

26. My least favorite cities are probably Miami and Los Angeles. In fact, if I were allowed to blow shit up, (and for obvious reasons, I'm not), I'd probably tell the residents of LA and Las Vegas, (where I've never been), to start running while I solve the west's water probelms.

27. I am a huge pain in the ass to travel long distances with. I don't stop unless urine is actually coming out my ears, and I don't care that much about your ears. I drive until I get there, and if I'm flying and have to deal with layovers I'm just an asshole. Which should make our upcoming trip to Disney a fun experience for everyone.

28. Oh yeah, I once won on Jeopardy!, but you knew that. And Alex Trebek seems like an obnoxious prick in person too.

29. The highest I've ever been, (literally as opposed to metaphorically), is when I climbed to 12,600 feet in Yosemite Park. I beleive the peak was called Mt. Lewis.

30. If I had to pick one celebrity to fight, I think it would have to be Dr. Phil.

31. Best hot dogs I've ever had can be found here. You have to get them with the relish; otherwise you're missing out on the experience. And if you put ketchup on them I will hit you. What are you, 8?

32. If I had more time, I think I'd like to learn to cook a decent meal. My current repetoire consists of throwing meat on a grill and waiting until it changes color. Sometimes I get real crazy and put olive oil on a piece of fish, wave it over the grill, and call it dinner.

33. I am very impatient and don't like following directions. Instead I prefer to just start whatever project I'm working on and try to finish as quickly as possible. based on past experience, I can tell you that this works much better with trials than it does with putting up a screen door.

34. If I have to wear a tie,
it might as well be colorful. Jerry Garcia ties are my favorites, even though I think the Grateful Dead sucked.

35. I have friends who have run for Congress. Unsuccessfully.

36. I have friends who stripped for a living. Succesfully.

37. I probably donated more money to the latter than the former. And got more out of it.

38. No one I know in the real world knows about this blog. So now's your chance to blackmail me. Except I'll just say 'fuck you' and tell 'em.

39. I'll be 39 in a week. I've noticed that I'm losing interest in birthdays lately. If there's something I want, I usually just buy it myself.

40. My father and I have the same birthday. He's older.

41. I find that things are much more interesting at 2:30 in the morning than they are at 2:30 in the afternoon.

42. If I were a male prostitute, I would starve to death. Within 4 days.

43. I would much rather have my kids hear The Supersuckers say "fuck" in a good song than that they listen to anything by The Jonas Brothers. I don't get too worked up about language, but bad music drives me nuts.

44. I say 'fuck' a lot.

45. My wife is the sexiest woman I know. And I'm not just saying that because I get to have sex with her. Although that doesn't hurt. I totally do, too.

46. The Bronx Zoo is one of my favorite places. I've been going there for years. I remember when all the apes were stuffed inside in little houses. Now they've got a huge outdoor area to hang out in. I'm not sure if the gorillas are any safer in the Bronx after dark than they would be in the Congo war zone, but they always seem content.

47. I really hate whiny people. Get the fuck over yourself.

48. You know what a really under-rated dessert is? Fresh watermelon.

49. This is the best roller coaster I've ever been on. "Superman" at Six Flags New England. The first time I went on it we were going up the main hill. And up. And up. And up. And so on and so forth. Long enough for me to start thinking, "you know, this may not have been the best idea I've ever had" I've rideen it 3-4 times since, but now I can't take the 90 minute wait in the lines. On a slow day.

50. I recently alphabetized all of my CDs, after getting pissed off that I couldn't find one. Which later turned out to be in my car, but whatever. Now I can find any CD in 30 seconds. As long as I never, ever buy another CD.

OK kids, it's taken me since Tuesday to come up with these 50 fascinating bits of information. So this is looking like a two-parter. Assuming you've read this far and haven't gouged your eyes out. Or just clicked to another site, which would have been easier, and probably less painful. We'll come back to this another time. Besides, I have to get to Kentucky before a bunch of bearded yokels in coonskin caps show up on my lawn with musketry and such. Although that could just be our local Chanber of Commerce now that I think about it.

Monday, April 21, 2008

And How Was Your Weekend?

One of these days I'll get around to slandering Kentucky. Probably soon. This weekend we had beautiful weather, so naturally we had to spend most of Saturday at a my wife's grandmother's 90th birthday party. Usually my wife plans these things, because a) she's a control freak, and b) because she could whip Martha Stewart's tastefully dressed ass with one hand tied behind her back. But she had no say in this one, which is why things went to hell in a handbasket pretty quick. We probably should have suspected something when we went on the internet, (Thanks Al Gore!)(I stole that from RSG), to find directions for the restaurant, and instead found a bunch of reviews saying how much the place sucked.

and they weren't kidding.

The "banquet", and I use that term loosely, was held in the basement, which looked like something I might have thrown up, (Much like the food! Hey-O!), in an afternoon, and smelled of dampness and shattered dreams. we get in to see three, count 'em three, chafing dishes, set up in one corner. Not a good sign. The bar was cash only, which was no surprise given the past history of those paying for it. I declined, but my wife hit the sauce.

Eventually the grandmother showed up and was shown into the reception area, where she charitably declined to say "Is this what you think of me?" and sat down to the meal. Which consisted on something alleged to be seafood alfredo, a purported chicken marsala that closely resembled things I've seen pumped out of my septic tank, and a green bean salad. The green beans seemed the safest option. There was no other food available to the 10 kids under the age of 12. And we all know what a hit chicken marsala and seafood alfredo is with the under 12 set. While some parents ordered separate dishes for their kids, I just leaned over and whispered to mine, "We're going to McDonlad's after this; just hold tight" and they did. Frankly, McDonald's was the healthier option.

So we milled around for a couple of hours, making awkward conversation and trying to avoid the feral children my sister-in-law is busy raising. Their father announced somewhat proudly, that the youngest was going commando. The youngest also went around grabbing kids asses and at one point threatened to squirt a lemon into my son's eye. I grabbed his hand and took the lemon away, which may have been the first time he's ever been disciplned. I also told my son that if he had to punch the kid in the face, he wasn't going to be punished. Actually, I probably would have rewarded him after the inevitable rabies shots.

As things were winding down, (and by "winding" I mean time seemed to actually stop, stretching 2 hours to 14 days), it was announced that we were all going to a nearby aunt's house to continue the party. This had not been discussed before. I had plans to play Wiffle Ball that afternoon. Sure that sounds like a weak excuse, but at this point if I'd had plans to have an S&M queen slam my nuts in a car door I'd have gone for that option. We got in the car and left tire tracks on the pavement heading north while everyone else went south. There was a potentially awkward moment when we came out of the McDonald's drive-thru just as two car loads of relatives went past on the main road. We were able to avoid detection by swerving into another lane and punching the gas.

Sunday we actually got at the yardwork we'd missed Saturday, taking out a huge, and unfortunately now largely dead, lilac bush in the corner of our yard. We're trying to figure out how best to replace it. My wife, of course, has suggested what sounds like the second coming of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon , whereas I prefer something that will both attract birds and butterflies, and repel the children from the Montessori school next door. Does anyone know if poison ivy attracts birds? I managed to get most of the bush out and cut up into manageable pieces, although if anyone out there wants some lilac wood for their fireplace, there's plenty more left. Only about 9-10 cuts from various thorns and pruning utensils.

Incidentally, if anyone knows anything about getting rid of lawn grubs, I would love to hear some advice. The little fuckers are about to destroy our lawn. I'm willing to consider anything short of kerosene, and even that's negotiable.

To thnak me for all the hard work, my wife took me out to dinner at the casino. Free babysitting, since we've got a friend of ours temporarily living in the basement. She's also been doing our laundry and dishes. I'm starting to see the appeal of serfs. We went to a new Mexican place. Very good food, if slightly over-priced. Pretty much par for the course at the casino. Food's always good, but they're working on the assumption that you just hit a jackpot somewhere. We did gamble a bit afterwards, and I'm happy to announce I've somewhat eased my guilt about America's shabby past-treatment of our Indian brothers.

All in all, we managed to get a lot done after a slow start. Call it a late-inning comeback, the sort of thing I would like to see the Yankees start doing a bit more often. Or at all.

Friday, April 18, 2008

How Do You Spell Hypocrisy? C-A-T-H-O...

In a news story yesterday, there was a front page story about a Connecticut firm winning the contracts to create the outfits Pope Benedict the XVI, (who bears a somewhat disturbing resemblance to Nosferatu), , and exactly what that entailed. While numbers weren't discussed, some of the details included the use of 1,500 yards of silk, 150 skilled workers for the clothing and metal work for the chalices and miters, (probably not this,
but who knows), and a time table of three months of all-out work to complete all the outfits and accessories before this month's Popepalooza Tour of the States.

In a completely unrelated story, the citizens of the officially Roman Catholic country of Haiti have been forced to resort to eating cookies made up largely of dirt due to mind-bending poverty and hunger.

I'm sure Benedict is a nice guy, and certainly knows how to wear a silk dress to full effect, but come on. I think you may have missed a few of the basic tenets of your religion. And until you folks figure out stuff like that, you'll be more likely to see my ass in Wal-Mart than back in church.

I swear this post isn't at all motivated by bitterness over the pope's use of Yankee Stadium is forcing the Yanks on an 18 day road trip. Well, maybe just a little.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Time Flies

I just noticed I haven't put anything up here for a good week. I've meant too, but then I realize it's after midnight and I need to go to bed since I can't get away with wandering into work at 11 am anymore. Which is kind of too bad.

Anyhoo, the last week has been a bit hectic. You get your taxes done on time? I still need to mail them today, but I finished them off a day ago. Let's hear it for a $40 federal refund!! Woooooo!!! That's a couple of CDs right there. Maybe half a tank of gas!

And of course, Little League started. And it wouldn't be Little League without the Limpy family turning things into one colossal Mongolian Clusterfuck. Which we did. As you may recall, a couple of years ago the Little League Powers, told my son that, despite the fact that we signed up late, he was on a team. Then two days later changed their minds and said he couldn't play. Which led to me making some phone calls that could charitably be described as unpleasant in nature. Surprisingly, no restraining order resulted, and this year, finding themselves in a pinch, we got a phone call asking if I could step into a sudden breach and manage a team of 9-11 year olds. Which should give you a good idea of how desperate they were for a manager. "Call that guy nicknamed "Limpy", you know, the one who called us a 'group of prize-winning assholes' a couple years back."

Well, I'm a bigger man than that, in more ways than one. What? I've been eating a lot of potato chips lately.
If you believe nothing else I've ever written here, well a), you're probably not far off, but b) take my word for it and get your hands on some Kettle Organic BBQ chips. It's the next best thing to an orgasm in a bag.

I don't know what that means either.

As I was saying before I so rudely interrupted myself, I agreed to manage the little tots, more than likely to a last place finish, teaching them nothing along the way other than a first-rate education as to what vulgarities to use in a given adverse baseball situation. Which is not the most useless thing you can learn. Then I asked who was on the team and they read down the list of kids and it became apparent that there was no way I could manage this team, and more importantly, no way my son could play on it. I can't even go into the reasons why, suffice it to say it had nothing to do with the coaches or the kids, and we're not the kind of parents that worry about our kid playing on a crappy team. And when I explained the situation to the league president, she agreed.

So we had to work a trade. Of 9-11 year olds. A trade. How fucked up is that? Naturally, the other managers, having already started calling their kids, were, according to the president, reluctant to make a trade. So, with her permission, after waiting a week, I called a friend of mine who's managing a team, told him about as much as I could about what was going on, and within 24 hours a 4 player trade had been worked out and my kid was off the first team and on my friend's team, along with another kid, and two kids were sent the other way. I'm not sure if any draft picks were exchanged, or if there are any players to be named later. Maybe we'll throw in a good bat.

Problem solved right?


One of the kids sent from my friend's team to the other team? His parents were the team sponsors. We found this out at the first practice yesterday. I felt pretty bad about that, although apparently he got traded because he was older and it balanced out the ages on the rosters. My wife felt horrible about it and was telling one of her friends about it. Her friend starts laughing her ass off and then stops and says "Oh, were you really upset about this? Because I can wait to start laughing until after we hang up."

So now it looks like, rather than managing a team I'll wind up sponsoring a team, since I'm certainly not about to screw over the other parents. This wasn't their fault, and I know if I put up a couple of hundred dollars to sponsor a team and then my kid got traded off of it before the season started, I'd be thinking about issuing a "stop-payment" on the check.

In other news, I found a new career for Syd. Here's a hint, it involves rubbing this.

One other thing. Natalie Wood is probably about to rise from her watery grave, and no doubt come after me for some of the cracks I've made about her and pools, (even though I know she drowned after falling off a boat and not in a pool), because I won the company NCAA tournament pool this year, coming into an incredible windfall of $65, (between that and the tax refund my ass is retiring!), and therefore I am today buying lunch for the office, leaving it up to the staff to decide from where. They've been trying to figure this out for the last hour. I've put less effort into some of my court arguments, (which would probably explain the results), than they're going through out there. At this rate I'll be buying dinner. Tomorrow.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

Georgia: Sherman's Speed Bump

Chapter 15 in the hopelessly stalled out "Know Limpy's States". Dear god there's 35 more of these fuckers to go.

Georgia is the 4th state, entering the Union on January 2, 1788. It was originally founded by James Ogelthorpe, (no relation to this guy
), in 1733 as a slave-free colony. Suffice it to say, somewhere along the line somebody changed their mind. What the hell, a buck's a buck right? Right? Anyone?

Georgia is known as "The Empire State of the South", for some reason. This book here says it's because the landscape is so rich. Personally, I always thought it was called "The Peach State", but I never wrote a book about the 50 states, just a series of bad blogs about them, filled with historical inaccuracies, complete fabrications and outright slander. When, oh when will the madness end!?


Pretentious nicknames aside, Georgia has a rich history of something or other. I'm nearly sure of it. There must be something besides that 180 they did on the whole slavery thing, and there's gotta be something besides booting out the Creek and Cherokee tribes and forcing them to walk the Trail of Tears. Oh, here's something, the first gold rush in the US was at someplace called Dahlongea, in Georgia, in 1828. Right before the sudden influx of settlers forced out the injuns in 1833.

The more I write these things the more I feel like going to the local reservation casino and blowing a pile of cash on craps.

Georgia does figure prominently in a crucial development in American, nay Western, civilization. No, it's not cotton, or even the Civil War, and it's certainly not the 1996 Summer Olympics. I'm talking of course, about Dr. John Pemberton's invention of Coca-Cola
at an Atlanta pharmacy in 1886, allowing millions of Americans to enjoy the taste of cocaine while sipping a refreshing, yet oddly jittery, soft-drink. At least until 1903 when the spoilsports took it out. I'm sure the massive amounts of water Coke uses to make their fine product, (to which, if it's not clear, I'm kind of addicted to), are behind last year's severe drought in Georgia, during which at one point Atlanta was facing something like it's last 60 days of water. Of course, that could also have been the result of the massive expansion of Atlanta and piss poor planning for the same, but I like to blame drugs for all of the world's problems, so the drought was Coke's fault.

The drought did lead to some promising potential entertainment when some retards in the Georgia legislature, (which for some reason I picture as being held in a run-down chicken coop), made a claim that way back when, someone measured the northern border of Georgia wrong and it should have been a mile or so north. By sheer coincidence, that would have given the access to the Tennessee River. And also would have put Memphis in Mississippi, much to the joy and wonderment of that municipality.

But then it rained again and everyone forgot about it and built more houses and it'll never happen again and Sweet Jesus when will we ever learn?

During the Civil War, Union General William Tecumseh Sherman meandered through northwest Georgia, distributing candy to orphans and the homeless. Of course, to paraphrase noted historian Steve Martin, he also helped those orphans and homeless get their start, but hey, candy's candy right? Leading to my only story about Georgia and one I'm pretty sure is a lie. Happened to a friend of a friend whose cousin was there and swears it's true. Car load of college kids from the northeast are driving through Georgia on their way to Florida for Spring Break. They get pulled over by a state trooper for speeding. And apparently they were going pretty fast, because the statie says "Son, nobody goes through Georgia that fast" only to hear a voice from the back pipe up "Sherman did"

Sure, good for a laugh, but if anyone here thinks a car load of Yankees would make such a crack to a Georgia state trooper and live to tell anyone about it, well, I have some waterfront property near Atlanta I'd love to sell you.

There are 8,684,715 people in Georgia. 72% of them are currently stuck in traffic outside of Atlanta.

Georgia's state bird is the Brown Thrasher, a smallish bird with a good offense but weak defense and next to nothing in the way of decent goaltending. Seriously, we lose the Whalers, and Atlanta, in fucking Georgia, gets a hockey team and names it after a bird!? Go fuck yourself Gary Bettman. You die and go to hell!

The state flower is the Cherokee Rose, which I'm sure gave great consolation to the Cherokees as they walked the Trail of Tears. On the other hand, it's a nice looking flower and doesn't involve anyone stealing my favorite hockey team, so I perosnally am OK with it. Priorities, shmiorities.

The highest point in Georgia is Brasstown Bald, at 4784' above sea level. More importantly is Springer Mountain, the starting point, (or end point I guess), of the famous Appalachian Trail. Someday I'll schlep along there.

IF YOU'RE IN GEORGIA YOU SHOULD: I have never been to Georgia and wouldn't know. I have friends who moved to Atlanta and say it's great to visit but hell to live there. Savannah's supposed to be nice, but you're reading a guy who'd be more inclined to spend his time poking around in Okeefenokee Swamp
looking for critters, so if I were you I'd go track down Pissy and ask her. She'll know what to do. And you'll look good while doing it. With me you're just going to get muddy and drunk, and possibly eaten by something, and not in a good way either.

MISS GEORGIA LOOKS LIKE THIS: At first glance she's kind of hot, but looking more closely, I can't shake the feeling she's hoarding nuts in those cheeks. And again, not in a good way either.

LIMPY'S CONNECTION TO STATE: Some friends of mine moved there and I never saw them again. Also I like peanuts. That's really it.

HAS LIMPY EVER GOTTEN LAID IN THIS STATE: No. Although when my wife tells me she's not in the mood I do like to say "Frankly my dear. I don't give a damn"

Then she hits me with a shoe.

Next up: Kentucky. The Indigo Grass State. Or something like that.