Friday, September 30, 2005

One down and...


two to go. I know some of you reading this, are not from this section of America or even from this country. However , for those who do reside in the asshole of the east coast, baseball to many people at this time of year, becomes religion. I know it sounds a little trite and a tad cliche, but last year’s ALCS playoffs really did give some people something to believe in. Over the past 5-7 years, I have fallen back in love with baseball and more specifically, The Boston Red Sox.

After the crushing defeat in 86' my heart was so badly broken and my levels of disbelief and discouragement were at their peaks. The years following, New England sports fans didn't have too much to talk about that was positive. In 85, the Patriots took such a momentous ass-whooppin' from the Chicago Bears, it is still talked about today. There was still some excitement over the Celtics, but people new better than to bring up the Sox or the Bruins. As Baseball is America's national past time, there was certainly more Sox coverage than Bruins, at least on television.

I remember being a small boy and sitting on the living room floor with a brown grocery bag of baseball cards. Not yet able to comprehend the athletic prowess of one athlete from another. I knew that there was not a chance the tv would show anything other than Red Sox games if my dad was home on the weekend. He would always ask me to come and watch with him. If you have a basic understanding of baseball, it may keep your attention if not, chances are you will be bored to tears in mere minutes, especially in the case of a pitchers duel. Summer after summer I watched my dad come in from mowing the lawn, sit down with a cool drink and eventually fall asleep cause once again the Red Sox had derailed their own train.

My dad was the only guy I know who could watch baseball through his nostrils, mainly cause he was asleep in the recliner and yet, still had control over the television. As I got older, I started to become more familiar with the players, other teams and even a small amount of strategy. Occasionally my dad would take me to his friend Cappy's house and we would watch the game together. It was a small living room, two chairs and a love seat, and I never felt cooler than when there was a night game or a double-header and I got to stay up way past my bed time. Cappy was a fan of the New York Yankees which made things interesting. He was neither born in nor ever lived in New York so my dad was never able to explain why he wouldn't cheer the Sox.

I remember watching the 86 Series at Cappy's with a legion of butterflies in my stomach, just praying for the damn game to end. I still to this day remember the glee-filled cackle that echoed in the smallest living room ever. Buckner had just let the grounder go through his legs and Cappy, my dad and me were in disbelief for no more than a second. In the grand scheme of things it was probably like 5. Then the laughter started and my dad put his drink down, stood up and with very well controlled anger, thanked Cappy for the hospitality. "Come on Jim, time to go home." I knew something horrible had just transpired but couldn't wrap my head around it. The Red Sox had never been to the big game in the 12 years I had been alive. Cappy laughed all the way to the front door as he walked us out.

The dodge that was going to take us home, was the same color of the mood in the car, shit brown. "What happened Dad?" I asked. "That's it Jim, it's all over. They blew it again. Maybe next year." My dad's breakdown of the game was in terms I understood and in a way I think he did it more to calm himself and talk to me rather than get all fired up. "Yeah, maybe next year" my throat felt tight like a vice and the tears welling in my eyes came do fast and so hot, there was no way to stop them. My dad rubbed my shoulder and told me everything would be alright and then he said something I'll never forget, "Now, you are a true Red Sox fan."

There have been many seasons of excitement and heartbreak since 86. Joy and pain, happiness and sorrow victory and defeat. However with the Red Sox pulling off the greatest comeback in sport’s history, defeating the hated, New York Yankees in the house that Ruth built, was enough to not only rekindle thousands of Red Sox fans interest, it gave them a glimmer of hope and more importantly something to believe in. The World Series Championship was great, there is no doubt about that. However, the fact that David went to Goliath’s house, knocked on his door, and when he came out, kicked his ass up and down the street, well that there is just sheer poetry.
This year’s team is still a bunch of idiots, but not the same bunch to take it all last year. Whether or not the Boston Red Sox can survive the storm this year remains to be seen. We can all count on one thing though, these athletes, our team, the idiots, won’t go down with out a fight. If they do go down, it will be swinging for the fences.

I hope those in the Red Sox Nation (as well as everyone else) is well.

Cheers,
JJ

Thursday, September 29, 2005

It is day...

two of no diet soda for this guy. If you know me, you know that I am suffering from the soda dt's at this point. While I will admit to drinking a ton of water and feeling much better, I still miss my friends diet wild cherry pepsi and Sierra Mist Free.

I was in Target the other morning picking up a copy of Sly Cooper and Theivius Raccoonus (which looks great and plays well too) and as I walked past the food section, I noticed there were new and brightly colored boxes with a Fresca logo on them. I stopped, turned around and went over to investigate. Of course Fresca now has to come in two of my alltime favorite flavors, Black Cherry and Peach. However, seeing as how I hate to contribute to the suffering of anyone, I won't buy Coca-Cola products as they contribute to the death and abysmal living conditions of children throughout the world. Yeah, no diet cherry coke, no sprite zero, no Dasani water none of that shit. When you move into a third world country, like Senegal and buy all the clean water to use for production of coke products or dasani water and then force mothers to walk up to ten miles to buy clean water to cook, drink, or mix formula with, and then have them buy the water at exorbitant prices, you are going to burn in hell.

Now of course this same people could use polluted water, close by thus almost insuring horrible lives for themselves or their children. Fuck big business. I'm sure Pepsi is just as bad but I have not been able to dig up anything on the net that has made me want to kill people, so for the time being, I'm safe. Ok, enough about soda. Time to grab a book and hit the hay.

I hope you all are well.

Cheers,
JJ

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Helpless...

Unlike the genius in the photo to your left, I have been struggling to come up with blog fodder. It's not that there is nothing to write about, more like I honestly think that it's all boring. Hunter S. Thompson could write a book on water utility rates and through his style of writing and candor, it would be a best seller and funny to boot.

It's not like I am sending invitations to a pity party, mind you. I just get worried I will bore people and with that thoughts comes the fact I might lose the two readers I do have. So...without further delay, I am presenting the latest installment of what you all seem to really dig,

Tales of the Crazy that Lives Next Door

V. In Which Jackass Wishes It Were Any Given Sunday

Last week I was coming home from a rather long day at work. It may have been made longer by being tired or hungover or both. Needless to say, the last thing I wanted to deal was Mother Bear or any of her weird kid bullshit. My car rolled the last 300 yards down to the intersection of East Ghetto and Fucking Bizarre and I saw something that made me say, "Hmm." I noticed that my garbage cans, as well as my recycling, had already been pulled to the street, ready for the Monday morning trash collection. My first thought was that my brother ( and also new roommate ) had taken the iniative of bringing the cans to the street, maybe he even took the trash from the kitchen out! Oh, to sleep perchance to dream!

I walked into the house and took off my shoes and pants, as per usual. I guess it's a guy thing and as I have lived on my own for a long time, I am not used to having someone else home. Plus, this is my castle and if I want to reign in boxer breifs that's my right as monarch. I poured myself a tall, cool glass of H2O and wandered into the living room. As I predicted, my brother was passed out on the couch at 3:30 pm, a portrait of motivation and vitality. For a split second, I considered dumping the water on him but I figured having a refugee sleeping on it and being wet is not going to help my couch smell any better. So I hopped on the computer and fired up iTunes at a respectable volume.

He awoke with sort of a, "What the fuck?" look on his face. "Good evening sunshine! It's almost 4pm time to start the day" I said. He closed his eyes and grimmaced. I believe the next phrase out of his mouth was, "I don't have to work today." but as I don't speak the Urk-Hai, Ork Dialect, I just returned fire with, "So, why get off the couch, right?" About 20 minutes later, when he did finally decide to rise, I laid a very careful trap. "Thanks for taking the trash to the street" I said. "You're welcome" he grunted as he was still shaking the cobwebbs from his brain. "Wait, what?" he mumbled. "The trash to the street" I replied. He looked at me as if he were a billy goat and I was asking him to play a stringed instrument. "I didn't do anything with the trash, that's your job, you live here." he said. "Oh so you shitting, showering and making my couch smell wonderful are just bonuses I get for having you as company?" my voice was revealing some underlying frustration. "Whatever" was the best my brother could come up with.

I returned to IM'ing, reading blogs and surfing for intelligent life on this vast interweb, and as I did, something caught me off gaurd. "If my brother didn't take the trash to the street, who did?" It took my about .5 seconds to deduce that Mother Bear wanted to make sure we didn't miss trash pick-up. I remembered seeing her sweeping the parking lot of the convenience store across the street, a few days earlier. "WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!" my brother jumped about two feet just from the sound of my voice. He assumed a fighting stance as if the hizzouse was being invaded by Huns and looked around frantically. I turned to him, "that fucking lunachick nextdoor took our trash out." He blinked and looked dumbfounded. "YEAH, AND SHE PROBABLY LOOKED THROUGH IT TOO!!!" little brother was pushing all my buttons and he knew it too.

I sat down and tried to reason why someone would be that nice. After several minutes I figured it was not that she was being nice, it's just that she was flat out crazy. I was so fired up that I finished the rest of my water and needed to lay down. About an hour and a half into my fitful rest, I was awoken by Mother Bear washing the outside of my house, with my hose, again. I shook my head in disbeliefe and went back to sleep. She is a good neighbor but sometimes I really wish I could live next to someone with a normal dysfunction.

Friday, September 23, 2005

From What I Gather....

y'all are enjoying tales of the crazy that lives next door. I am toying with starting a completely different blog for that. I don't know if I have the wherewithall for that. I am writing on two now and it's tough enough for me to keep consistantly updating my first love, as BPD can attest.

It's fucking one in the morning and I am all video gamed, booked, and movied out. I hate the fact that I have to work later. I'd much rather sit around read, get smarter and dream about younger, bookish looking women, who want to discuss literature and music, or possibly enjoy a game Scrabble and after snuggle on the couch, and drink a chilled assortment of diet sodas.

You are all probably sick by now so I will bid you adieux.

I hope you all are well.

Cheers,
JJ

Thursday, September 22, 2005

Holy Straightjacket Batman continued...

Yeah so after Mother Bear borrows the plunger, things kind of cooled off for awhile. ( Not like I was gonna complain.) I was still treated to my daily afternoon chats however, now Mother Bear was getting up in the AM to greet me before work. I may or may not have mentioned before but I am not a morning person. Christ himself could be waiting for me at my car with a lahge cawfee, light 2snl and a bagel toasted with strawberry cream cheese and I would still be, "what the hell do you want?" Needless to say Mother Bear's ninja like greetings at 6:30 in the AM were starting to chap my ass.

So I continue to go to work and sit behind my desk, fill out forms and shift reports and other types of useless shit. Basically my days were filled with mind-numbing boredom and most days, I just wanted to kick some ass. Until I got the ok from my rehab guy and my doctor, that was a big no go. Things continue like this for a few more weeks.

IV. In Which Jackass Jimmy is at a Loss for Words

I came home from work on a sweltering August afternoon. My foot (the one with the major injury) was killing me and all I wanted to do was get into some air conditioning and get horizontal. She who shall be named Crazy, was waiting for me on the fence. I shut the F1 down and gingerly stepped out of the car. I had so many weird scenarios running through my head, I really had no clue as to what to expect. She said hello, asked me how my day was and then came at me from an angle that made me more suspect of her than ever before.
"Jackass, do you have a lawnmower?"
"Why yes, yes I do..."
at this point she has told me how hard cutting her grass with her 1920's Tom & Jerry style push mower was. So I'm thinking that she wants to borrow my grass cutting shit to finish cutting her grass.

"Jackass could I borrow your lawnmower?"
"Sure, just let me go in and pull it out of the basement."
"O.k. great, I'll be right over to cut your grass"

Me: *blink blink blink*

I walked into my house and let out a stream of obscenities that are still probably floating somewhere over Lake Placid.

I just wanted to relax and now...I have to mow my lawn, otherwise my crazy nextdoor neighbor is going to cut the grass. My neighbor is going to cut the grass. I hobbled down to the basement and pulled out the fucking lawn mower and cut the grass like I was a junkie looking for the fix, promised at the jobs completion. So, Mother Bear came over to me while I was mowing, stopped me from mowing and asked me what I was doing.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

I'm not the smartest guy in the world but I think my activity was pretty self explanitory. So, it was very tough for me to mask my anger and contempt when I was interupted.

"What am I doing?" I said.
"Yeah" she said.

"I'm building a boat" I said.
"It looks like you're mowing the lawn" she said.

"That was going to be my next guess" I said. "Look it's nothing personal but I am perfectly capable of mowing my own lawn. I just didn't feel like doing it 5 minutes after I got home from work in 100+ heat and humidity."

I was heated at this point and just wanted to finish so I could get inside, have a cold drink and get naked in some ac.

"Yeah, well that's why I was going to cut your grass. So you wouldn't have to." she says.

"Well, I appreciate the effort but I can hadle it. Enjoy the rest of your weekend." and with that I pulled the rip-cord on the mower and was on with my business. I finished cutting the grass, put the mower away and went in and passed out for the night. I was happy with my cut grass and glass full of iced diet soda.

The next morning, I went to work and Mother Bear was not in the driveway to greet me. However, she was right there waiting for me when I got home. I got out of the car and tried to limp into my house without too much dialogue.

"Hi...Jim" she yells.
"Hi, crazy fucking lady, what the fuck do want with my soul today?" I said.
"Jim can I borrow your hose and weed wacker? There's some work I'd like to do on your front yard." she says.
"I think my dad borrowed it and said he was going to burn it, instead of returning to me." I chuckled.
"Oh.....okay" she said and trailed off under her breath.

I almost...almost wanted to go after her to find out what she was saying. Then I realized that doing so would be the equivalent of kicking a sleeping grizzly bear in the nuts.

I went into the house, kicked off the shoes and grapped a nappy nap.

To Be Continued....

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

There has been...

somewhat of a drought in the land of Fa, thus my lack of postage. However when I honestly take a step back and look at my life, there is a ton of stuff to writea about.

I. Tales of The Insanity that Lives Next Door.

About a year ago, the house next to mine, which had been vacant for several months, was rented by a small family. Mom and dad and two kids moved in and things were better than when Mr. & Mrs. Domestic Abuse used to live there. Things were quiet, the new neighbors were polite and always smiled and said hello. The children are good kids and never disrespectful. I was actually ok with these people camping on ground so close to Chez Jackass. They were a family who had moved to NoPro from Narragansett and I'm sure the adjustment to the neighborhood was a bit of an adjustment. Moving from ocean-views and the smell of sweet summer grasses is much different from urine, broken bottles and parking lot brawls. However, both Dad and Mom were invested in their children and send them to the best schools they can afford. The oldest, 15 and making the switch from private to public school has been doing well and her younger brother continues to maintain where one needs to be, while attending the same private school I graduated from. They are not the Cleavers and I think in some ways I like that better. If they were all crazy christians or whatever, I don't think I'd be able to deal.

but buckle up cause it gets better.

II. In Which Jackass Meets Mother Bear

I had come home from a particularly bad day at a financial institution that rhymes with Crank of America. I pulled in, loosened my tie, grabbed the griefcase and stepped out of the F1 onto the drive way. I heard the Neighbors back door open and thought nothing of it. (Here in the hood, no one is friendly or says hello and even so, there is a fence between the properties.) I shut and locked my door and in the 2.5 seconds it took me to do that, Mother Bear was down the stairs and at the fence or on the tree-line as we used to call it back in Nam. She introduced herself and told me the names of the other Bear family members, ( like I was going to remember) After a short game of 50 questions, about who I was, what I did and how I liked my socks ironed, she let me go and I retreated into Chez Jackass, shaking my head and wondering what the hell that was all about. Post work meetings like this continue pretty much on a daily basis. They also continue to get stranger and stranger. We have covered everything from ice cream flavors to metaphysics to my lack of significant other. Sometimes I can deal with Mother Bear and most of the time I just want to tell her to go and shove a canned ham up her own ass.

III Holy Straight Jacket Batman!!!

Things continue as they normally do. I go to work, come home, chat with the neighbor and go inside and pass out for the night. Since episode II, I have left my position in corporate hell with Crank of America and have taken on the role of a Special Operations Unit inside the Agency. I'd talk more about it but there are privacy and confidentiality issues all over the place in my line of work. Let's just say I deal with a lot of shit that no one else wants to have to deal with. I love the new job, better hours, less corporate bs and I actually feel like I have a soul again. What could be better?

It's at this point that things start to pick up steam. I had to deal with some pretty hairy shit at work and as a result, ended up getting pretty hurt. I was placed on desk duty while I was recouping and in rehab. During this time, my neighbor took the time to talk to me whether I wanted to or not. She also started KNOCKING ON MY DOOR, ASKING TO BORROW THINGS LIKE THE PLUNGER! Who does that? How expensive is a plunger?

TO BE CONTINUED...

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

WTF

Well here I am again.  I have been parked in front of the computer for the better part of the night, trying to figure out why I have no sound.  If I plug in my headphones, I have sound, but when I switch back over to my speakers…nothing.  This is just another in a long list of sheeyot that frustrates the shit and $4 out of me.

If anyone has any suggestions, they would be greatly appreciated.  I have made sure everything is plugged in and turned on.  I have started and restarted several times. I guess I am destined to look like I am taking orders for Time Life Books if I want to listen to music.

I hope you all are well.

Cheers,
JJ

Most of the time...

I won't make a big deal about women talking sports. I walk upright and don't drag my knuckles on the ground so the idea that women can get down and chat about America's past time or football or hockey or golf, (not a sport)...I'm ok with that. However, as today is my day off and I went to enjoy breakfast at my day off breakfast spot, (for the first time in like a month,) and a woman behind the counter began to slag a member of the World Champion Boston Red Sox. I sat and took a sip of scaulding coffee and contemplated whether or not I was going to make a two or three pronged attack.
While I don't particularly care for Schill as a person, I think he is a hell of a baseball player. This woman felt the need to tell me how awful Curt is and that Boston never should have picked him up. I choked down another mouthful of eggs and some more coffee before I began my attack.

"Without Schill, we would not be World Champions." She looked at me as if I had a donkey dick growing out of my forehead. "You're kidding right?" she said as she poured unused half & half back into a container. She put on a face that could stop a charging bull and began to regale me with the story of how badly Schill got worked during his rehab assignment in Pawtucket. She then told me how he threw nothing but meatballs once he came back up to Fenway. The she made her final mistake, she asked if I had seen how badly he performed the other night.

Like mana from heaven, I seized my opportunity to excoriate her for her lack of knowledge and faith in her own team, her home team. Granted some of what she said was true, but Mr. Schilling was in fine form the other night and if he wants to continue to throw meatballs while tossing three-hitters, so be it. While I think Schilling is a Jesus-snortin', alcoholic, dirty fucking republican, I still think he is a hell of a pitcher, as well as a team player. A guy who has his tendon sutured to his leg in order to be able to play, knows how to spell team and he knows there is no "I" in it.

Flo, seemed a little taken aback by my passionate rebuttal however after going over my points of selfless acts, all star play and redemption from almost one hundred years of blood, sweat and tears, she seemed to agree with me whether she wanted to or not. She asked the 75 yeard old repair man next to me if he thought I was right. "The kid makes a good point" the repairman, who oddly enough also goes by JJ, barked as bits of toast got stuck in his goatee. Flo tried to sell me on Arroyo and while I like him because Bronson is bold and brash and can be a cocksucker and bean anyone at a moments notice, JJ senior made a good point in stating that Arroyo seems more concerned with his rock band, than his baseball team.

Flo freshened my coffee and retired to the kitchen to do somemore cooking and try and comeup with a way to discredit one of Boston's greatest heros.

I hope you all are well.

Cheers,
JJ

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Lost....

So my brother moved back home. His girlfriend of a million years broke up with him and he's a mess. He's a mess and I wish I knew how to help him more. At least I can give him a roof over his head and an ear to bend.

I hope you all are well.

Cheers,
JJ

Friday, September 09, 2005

1-0 Baby!

Even without Bruschi & Johnson, the Pats managed to get it done. Big Bill figures he can replace stalwart linebackers with awesome defensive backs and still get the job done.

Yes, yes, he can.

I figure Brady has about 3-4 more superbowl rings in him and then he can go and be Matt Damon's stunt double. He's already had experience in front of the camera for Dunkin' Donuts, the transition to the big screen shouldn't be all that hard.

It's late and the alarm rings early. I hope you all are well.

Cheers,
JJ

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

Walking Away from Failure....AGAIN


I'm tired of all the bullshit, the spin, the working the machine Bushy and his fucking cabinet of cocksuckers are attempting to pass off as a normal, democratic response. One thing about being a blogger, you tend to look yourself and the world around you a little more critically. Unless you spend most of your nights and weekends, drunk in a tree house, eating mexican food and masturbating to Don Ho records.

Pre Bushy getting elected, I told myself I was going to get more interested or maybe more informed on politics. I read up on the candidates and the issues and made what I thought were informed choices at the time. I felt I was doing my civic duty by voting. I was taking part in shaping the government that runs the country. I was using my voice and having some input.

Yeah right.....

For the tens of thousands who felt their vote didn't count and that no one would listen to them, Bushy has probably insured they will never even consider voting now. What makes me say this? With hurricane Katrina, there were thousands upon thousands who were crying out for help, to be rescued from mortal danger, for a drink of water and enough food to give them strength to go on living. They asked for the basic needs all humans, including that fucking moron in the whitehouse, need for survival.

True to form, Bushy basically gave the poor, the tired and downtrodden the middle finger and told those most in need, "to go and fuck themselves." Our leader, Commander in Cheif and figurehead of the most powerful and prosperous nation on the planet, turned his back on the people he swore he would protect. What's worse is he thinks nothing is wrong with this or more importantly that photo opportunities with firefighters from around the country, (who just want to go and rescue people) are more important than saving people from drowning, starvation, dehydration, stroke, heart attack, diabetic comas, dysentary and other generally nasty ways to die.

To those republicans, or those who voted republican in the last two elections, "you're just as guilty." He's your guy. I'm sure the extra few bucks you managed to save from the unnecessary tax cuts help to easy your financial pain, but how does it feel to know that there are men and women, young and old, from all over the country, dying on a daily basis, so you can drive your fucking H2 in from the suburbs? I'm sure being a marketing manager or some middle management tool requires a serious amount of all terrain driving. 8 miles per gallon, but damn it sure does look cool and that's all that counts anyway, cause that new intern in accounting sure has a great rack and does things the mother of your children won't even consider. To quote one of my favorite bands, Boysetsfire,

" The blood is on your hands, life stealing motherfuckers
The constitution burns to ash in front of you, the people know what you are up to
Your sins will come back on you "

I only hope you have no problems sleeping at night. If that is the case, just remember, "it's dark and hell is hot."

My thoughts and prayers with anyone suffering for whatever reason.

I hope you all are well.

Impeach Bush,
JJ

Sunday, September 04, 2005

I hope I'm....

wrong but it seems the end times are upon us.

There is too much shit going on in the world for me to think otherwise. I know that Louisiana and Mississippi and Iraq are in the forefront, but there is horrible shit happening all over the world. It's a wonder more people don't go crazy and riot in the streets, but hey that's what, "Must See TV" is for right? I have never been a particularly patriotic person but since Bush took office, it has been hard to be a proud American. Now I know there are those who feel if I am going to express these sentiments that I should not let the door hit me in the ass on the way out of the country.

But just for a moment, let's take a look at this great nation of ours. Let me live up to my namesake and play Devil's advocate for a second. Take my hand and let's look at what really goes on here in the land of the free and the home of the brave.

We have a President, a Commander in Cheif who has done nothing but lie to us since the day he was sworn into office and if that isn't bad enough, the fucker doesn't even care about it.

There are not and never were any weapons of mass destruction.
Thousands of innocent Iraqi civilians, (men, women & children) have died needlessly during the US occupation of Iraq.
Saddam Hussein has been ousted from power, but Osama Bin Laden is still free and is not mentioned much at all
The treatment of Iraqi detainees at Abu Gharib has been barbaric at best.
The treatment of detainees at Gitmo has been atrocious.
The treatment of American military personnel by there own goverment has been lackluster at best. Having spoken with a friend recently returning from Iraq, american soldiers not having the proper armor on their vehicles, attach scrap-metal found on roadsides, offering them little to no protection.
Bush has no exit strategy for a war he started, that is not about oil, but about liberating Iraq from Hussein's rule. Hussein has been in custody coming up on two years. Gas prices continue to rise with no end in sight and the working poor will soon not be able to afford to go to work.

Bush will not speak to the mother of a man who gave his life in service to his country, even though she camps outside his estate.
Bush will not end his vacation early when the United States suffers from the greatest natural disaster in the history of the country.
President Bush will wait five days to take action.
President Bush will wait 7 minutes to decide what to do after the largest attack on American soil takes place.
President Bush will squander the largest surplus of cash the nation has ever seen.
President Bush will not take action as white collar crime runs rampant throughout his country and the nesteggs and retirement savings hundreds of thousands of americans were counting on, are stolen from them.
President Bush cannot deliver on promises of employment, education and enviromental security.
President Bush is the worst environmental president in the history of the country.
Unemployment is at an all time high.
Education and funding for student loan programs has been greatly reduced.

For a total overview of his monumental fuck-ups go here.

But all of this is acceptable because President Bush, the liar, the national guardsmen who ducked out of duty on foreign soil, the rehabilitated drunk and cocaine abuser, the born again christian hell-bent on: lying, cheating, killing and stealing can put on a flight suit and sit in the navigators seat in the cock pit of a fighter plane, land on the deck of an aircraft and give a thumb's up. It's a wonder the guy can wipe his own ass.

It's no wonder why every other nation on Earth thinks we are scum, look who represents us.

My thoughts and prayers go out to those hurting and in need both in America and Worldwide. May God bless us all.

I hope you all are well.

Impeach Bush,
JJ

Thursday, September 01, 2005

So Apparently...

My mom is trying to kill me cause, she is showing the apartment next door to a 26 year old woman, who just happens to be a what folks? A writer. Awesome, she is young, artsy and since my brother made out with her a few years back she can't be to hard on the eyes. However, there is the chance she is into coffee, good conversation and a game of Scrabble. Even if she is not into the Scrabble, to have someone to have coffee and/or conversation with would be something in itself. In an ideal world, these things would take place on a Sunday morning. But seeing as how I am destined to never have a Sunday off, we might have to put this idea on hold.

In other news...my body is still hating on me for fucking up my sleep schedule during my trip to NY. I have been going to bed later and later each night. Last night I managed to get to bed around one and when I awoke at 6, I finally had the beginning feelings of what humans feel like. At least that's what the humans tell me.

I guess I have offended a friend in some way. I will admit I have no knowledge of the offense. For whatever it's worth I apologize and I hope I can make it up to you. I hope things are well and keep on blogging, you make me want to keep writing.

I hope you all are well.

Cheers,
JJ