Sunday, February 26, 2006

When you get...

woken up at 8am on a Sunday, "the day of rest" by the parentals, not just on the phone but in your living space, all bets are off. Chances are locks are getting changed as soon as weather gets warmer. Which brings me to my next point. Winter is still here and in effect. Fuck Winter! I'm so tired of being bundled up and layered, I'm ready to scream.

The only thing keeping me warm this Winter have been Tim Horton's coffee, my anger and Haugty Melodic. I'm running out of things to be angry about but I'm sure I'm not thinking hard enough. Maybe I need to read the news today before I make that statement. So, when I get woken that early, coffee is the first order of business. My dad, understanding this, brought me a coffee and left it as a peace offering. Good move, white man. However, that was just an opener, an aperitif if you will. Upon rising, taking the morning piss and pulling on the giveups, I needed more and was not in the mood to stomach a cup of my, "atom-smashing" homebrew.

Running shoes, hoodie, hat(e), keys. Fuck my wallet and ID cause it's Sunday and cops in this town can fucking blow me. I pulled into the T-ho's drive through and got my Cafe Mocha. Guys, say what you want but, I like coffee and I like chocolate. I once new a manly man who would enjoy chocolate after a good cigar and a scotch. Personally, putting shit on fire in my mouth is not my idea of tasty, but whatever you're into. However, I will go toe to toe with a motherfucker if they call my coffee, "girlie."

That having been said, I sit here and clackity-clack out the "called out goodness" "the gospel according to Jackass," if you will, sipping on my deliciously sinful, cafe mocha....on the Lord's day nonetheless. This provides me with a nice segue into my next topic. I have been reading the New Testament. Before everyone moves to a new page, I am just curious as to the differences in the gospels. However, I do think I should read the book cover to cover as I have spent most of my life in catholic schools.


So far the thing most apparent to me is that all the Great JC said was, "don't be an asshole to anyone and we're cool." This includes, "look at how much $$$ I have, how Republican I am and you can't smootch on /marry that person cause they have the same equipment as you."

As far as I'm concerned, there maybe a ton of people in a "holding pattern" when it all goes down. Time to Git yo'self right with Jesus.

I hope you all are well...and warm.

Fuck Winter!


Thursday, February 23, 2006

I hate...

illness. Especially when I gots shit to do. I thought of posting pictures of, but when you got a face that scares women and children, posting pics of your lovely mug when you are ill is not the best idea either.

yeah, I know I haven't been posting what? I talk when I talk, when I feel I have something to say, blogger will not dictate this. Not even the coolest people around talk everyday. Actually, in my mind, its the people who don't talk all that much at all but when they do, they have some great shit to say, that are cool.

Dubya...that motherfucker should open his mouth to eat and that's it. Fred Durst should have his mouth welded shut and V.P. "shotgun" dick, well all that ever comes out of his mouth is, "blah blah blah...I"m the origin of evil...blah blah blah."

I need food, or sleep or coffee.

Go fuck a goat!


Monday, February 20, 2006

Good Morning and...

this is the size of my usual first cup of the day.

Happy President's day. Although with these two evil and murderous shitheads in office, I'm not really sure what there is to be happy about.

At any rate, we can be happy I am posting again. Just to get everyone caught up to speed, including myself, here is a recap.

It's fucking cold here ...AGAIN. At one point last week, it was almost 70 degrees. 70-fucking-degrees. Yesterday, at one point it was like 10 with the wind chill, (which as far as I am concerned, means it was 10 yesterday and not 25, but feeling like 10.) Friday night, I went out and had drinks with the boss and the bosses boss and their recockulous friends. All you need to know is that I had nothing to eat since breakfast, and that by the end of the night I was looking for someone to punch. Yeah...I'm a very happy drunk but this is just one more reason I don't drink on a regular basis. I find JackassJimmy can be just as much fun, if not more...without help from Mr. Budweiser or any of his fucking associates.

Yesterday was spent dicking around and talking about new ventures creative and otherwise. The "W" and I may... and I mean "MAY" be launching a new site. He wants to code something for his linux box to see if he can. While he will take care of all things technical, he put me in charge of creative development. Fine, I agree I have creative flair, but I'm much more of a "row the boat" kind of guy rather than steer the boat. For something we're only going to do until, "it's not fun anymore, " we've already put in some serious time. Let's just say there have been meetings and flowcharts already and we're but two guys...and this is a HOBBY.

I kind of get somewhat worked up as "W" figures since I blog, this will not be a big deal. Sure, I blog, but coming up with ideas for content for a page, every week, and then actually getting written...might be a bit much. Especially if I am trying to start my MA this summer. I have a buddy I may be able to bring in to help out, however, "W" doesn't seem jazzed about that idea...something about all the glory...blah blah blah.

To our right we have the major purchase I made yesterday. When one can get a drive such as this, if you have the means, I highly recommend it. 200 gigs for $39 bucks, makes daddy very, very happy. It also gives the riaa just one more reason to hate me as much as they do.

Getting back on track, there was a small hangover...yet another reason JJ says, "FUCK DRINKING!!!" However since I found the mother of all hangover cures, move over Pedialyte and FUCK YOU GATORADE...this shit is where it's at.

I'm not really how or why it works but it does and cuts recovery time I would say in half if not more. Yeah, for the recreational booze hound or barroom hero who needs to hold down a job, this stuff may save you and your relationship. Tell em JackassJimmy sent you.

That's about it, I have no coffee and that's a problem. I sit here and swill Diet Pepsi Twist as I pound this post out. There are worse things I could be drinking, but right now, I can't think of any. Have a good one.

I hope you all are well.


Tuesday, February 14, 2006

One last time...

I know, I's been like a week since I have posted anything. When I started blogging, I told myself I would never apologize for not writing...cause that's just lame. I don't really feel the need to explain my postage or lack thereof to the two maybe three of you (THANK YOU) who read this rag. When you really think about it, bloggin really is like having a conversation who does nothing but talk about themselves. It's the kind of conversation where you know when you are speaking, the other person is only waiting for you to finish, not even listening to anything you're saying. When I know this is going on in reality-reality versus virtual reality, I usually start talking about that one time in college when I was so drunk I blew a horse or the field trip I took to JFK's balloon farm on Mars.

I LOVE WHEN NO ONE NOTICES...that's the cue to get more coffee or just get up and walk away mid-sentence. Yes, I know this is rude, but I am a jackass and my time on this planet is short.

At any rate, I wrote a really kickass post on Saturday, complete with pics from my day and everything. I wrote and wrote and wrote and edited and spellchecked, everything your 10th grade creative writing teacher would ask of you. When it was all said and done, I was so pleased with it I couldn't wait to hit publish. Yep, I just had to get it out there on the web...(I know you see where this is going and if not, well, just look into the sunset) So, I hit publish post and the typical publishing stuff came up. I'm not really sure what it was that told me something was very wrong but I just had a gut feeling. I winced and cringed and hoped. Blogger told me everything was ok, stroked my back and patted me on the head. Blogger told me my post was safe as a kitten in the arms of a gorilla. Blogger told me everything was cool and just to come back in ten minutes and republish my blog.

I really didn't know wtf they were talking about, but there were pictures to guide me through the process, so I was somewhat comfortable with everything. So I went and checked gmail...checked some of my favorite blogs/sites....went to the a snack and something to drink...and then went back to "republish my blog."

I got the same bullshit "situation normal" message for the better part of 2 hours. I know, I know, "dude, it's gone just let it go." It was true and deep down I knew it was gone. "Gone" like one of my favorite songs by the Bouncing Souls. Gone like all of the kickass poetry I used to woo women in college. Gone like the integrity of the United States. I'm nowhere near as cool as Han Solo, but sure did wince and want to fire on my computer when blogger donkey punched me with an abscence of love.

I was just flat out pissed and not in the mood to redo everything. That my dear friends is why you are reading this. This drivel, this blogsturbation™, if that's not a word...I'm trademarking it as of right now. I give anyone permission to use it, just give me credit or the digital ninja is coming for your ass!

Thats about all I have for right now. I just read a story about the deal Oprah Winfrey inked with XM Radio. It works out that she will be making almost a million dollars a show. Does she really need it? Come on, if she is not the richest woman in the world, she has to be so close to #1 that she can hear her cunt sweating. I would hope she would take some of that money and just donate it to people who need it. I did volunteer work in inner-city Chicago while I was in college. You think the footage from Iraq is bad? People need to step outside their comfort zones once in a while. There are things here that rival, if not surpass the poverty & desperation of the Middle East.

ok...I won't beat y'all anymore.

I hope you all are well.


Saturday, February 11, 2006

Fuck Snow...


Don't worry Jonny, we haven't sold out. Yet again another weekend where the prospect of getting out and doing things is foiled by an oncoming ass-fuck of snow. There are worse things I know, but being stuck in the house due to injury, I am going a bit fucking stir crazy. I mean there are only so many books one can read, video games one can play and movies (dirty or otherwise) one can watch, before you wake up everyday with a headache, a hard-on and a case of playstation thumb.

Friends, Romans and countrypeoeple have all asked if I have seen the Doppler radar report of the impending doom. If I had, I might be motivated to do something besides sit in front of the computer and bitch. I need to go to the market cause if nothing else, I need more Diet Dr. Pepper. My stomach is not going to let me power through this one on coffee alone. If I tried...I'd probably shit out my lower intestine. Fun, huh? I thought so.

Hmmm. What supplies does one need? I have a couple of cans of soup. I should get some pasta or maybe some of those fucking lean cuisines. The other day I was at the market and I saw two women, at a combine total weight of 2375lbs. filling their cart with those Banquet frozen dinners. A free game of bowling...ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Besides being catastrophically bad for you, just because something is 5-$5, does not mean you have to eat all of them. "NO...NO GET THE CHICKEN...THE FUCKING BBQ CHICKEN!!!"

It's times like these where I have to do everything in my power to not address the situation in the following manner: "Excuse me, fat bitches? Hi, Jackass Jimmy. I couldn't help but overhear your unnecessary use of profanity there a second ago. Over food too, wow...that's wild. I can't help but think land masses like yourselves would not want to draw attention to yourselves. I mean the smell alone is bad enough, but the visuals are well...just horrific. Please keep in mind this is a family market and uses of the words "motherfucker" and "cunt" really are frowned upon. Normally, this is when I say goodbye and walk away as Little Debbie's muffled cries for help try to escape imprisonment between the fat-flaps.

Moving right along...

This morning I went to my favorite all time place for breakfast, Karen's Kitchen. In the heart of Esmond's Mill District, if one chooses to get up early enough, you can have a good breakfast, with coffee and all that shit for about 4 bucks. Suck my filthy dick, Ronald McDonald!

Karen's is only open from 5am till noon and the chances of you being insulted by the staff or hearing some f-bombs being dropped are very good. However, the food is hot & tasty, served quickly and you can get in and out in a half hour, no sweat. This morning I opted for the bacon n' cheese omelet and a glass of milk. Coffee was offered but as previously mentioned, I fear taking a shit and hearing my stomach make the Nestea plunge into the bowl due to the SICK...JUST SICK amount of coffee I have been drinking. It was busy but I still managed to have a good morning meal.

After breakfast, I went and put some $$$ in the bank and then went to see an old friend. There was a gift card I had been saving for awhile. My mood being less than spectacular, a little musical-retail therapy was just what I needed. Like most dudes, I love bestbuy, however I could not deal with the magnitude of clusterfuck that was going to be on a Saturday AM.

So I went to Newbury and had my pick of music, toys, collectibles and any other tchochke shit one could think they need. I go to this store for three reasons.

1. Selection: As far as music stores go, the only place that is going to have more is iTunes, who buy the way "have killed the art of the browse."

2. Prices: Newbury is fair to the consumer and I think their customers show a great deal of loyalty. It's easy to buy from iTunes or just steal shit off of the net, but when you are able to get what you want at a fair price, I don't think you mind spending the cake.

3. Mike Z. : Probably the main reason I still shop at Newbury versus any other chain or major retailer. This dude is the most pretentious, "I weep for your future due to your poor taste in music" head-shaking motherfucker on the planet. I have gone into Newbury to legitimately buy gifts for people and had this guy make me feel like I was purchasing the "kidz bop" catalogue. Let's just say if you were going to buy someone Limp Bizkit for Christmahannakwanzika, this would not be the place to do it.
Now this is not to say Mr. Z is unforgiving. I have also made purchases he has been indifferent about and on some occasions, bought things that have caused him to smile or *gasp* engage me in conversation. Titles I suggest if you would like the aforementioned treatment. Anything by Interpol. My Bloody Valentine's "Loveless" later selections from the beatles catalogue and Less than Jake's "losing streak" should do the trick. However, I make no guarantees on this. Mike, is like a sleeping grizzly bear and if you poke him on the wrong day, well than just go put your selections back and try again another day. A bit tedious but it's what makes shopping at Newbury such an adventure.

I hope you all went and bought your milk/bread/batteries for the storm. I hope you all are well.


Thursday, February 09, 2006

Peace Beast

I'm sure I've mentioned how much I hate the pursuit of the fairer sex before. I'm sure I have spoken about it quite often actually.

After this weekend's fiasco of hooking up with a chick and her telling me, "she was totally into me" and then two days later dumbski-ing me and telling me she was drunk and that, "we could hang out, but nothing else was going to happen..."

"How you gonna act like my shit don't BLING?!?!"

Life is short enough to have to put up with your relentless, inane bullshit. Just say what you mean and be a fucking adult. This is not highschool, we're not going to be BFF, at least not now.

Telling me you don't drink all that much when you know full well, the only reason you didn't fuck me 2 years ago was, you were so drunk, they put your ass outside in a kiddie pool until, you were done vomitting whatever kool-ade and bullshit, girl drink conconcotion you were draining the fridge dry of. Happy Birthday.

Anyone over the age of 14, who has smelled alcohol before, can drink this marvelous libation all night long, still possess all of their mental accuity and faculties and still be aware that they are throwing themselves at someone. There is no empirical nor scientific evidence that someone has gotten "blackout drunk" on BL. EAT A DICK!!!

It's a normal human emotion. Some of us deal better with it than others. Apparently I don't meet the standards for your Flintstone-esque, Rockstar lifestyle. Cool, I've been dumped, fucked over, spat on by the best. This lame attempt at making me feel like a fucking jerk is nothing more than a mild annoyance. Am I bitter? Only a tad and only cause my time is precious. Just a reminder, they are taking applications for the next round of, "The Biggest Loser, " which you should be a shoe in for. Oral Hygiene is good, you should try it. Sperm although high in protein & low in calories, does not contribute to "minty-fresh-come-here-&-make-out-with-me" breath. Maybe this won't work cause I've never known anyone to successfully brush their teeth with a cock in their mouth. However, there is a first time for everything.

You work at a retail establishment that sells clothes that will not only fit, but make you more attractive and maybe, just maybe lift that struggling self esteem. Just cause your friends dress like, "whores gone wild" doesn't mean you have to. Word to the wise, GUNTS are not cool.


Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Selling the Drama...

People always want details and who am I to disappoint? So after further review, Friday night but not in that, "I could totally give it a thumbs up" kind of way.

Our evening begins in Peter Seychelle's comfortable study...wait, that's not right.

Our evening begins at Memphis Roadhouse, home of some kickass meat and barbeque anything. Let me preface this by saying, I have never had a meal here that was was less than awesome, in that, "fatguy gettin' his eat on" kind of way. Normally the dry rib/chicken combo is my thing but seeing as I was going to be doing some drankin' later on, and the prospect of there being suitable toilet accomodations available, I went with the Carolina Combo. This was like pulled pork, beans, cole slaw and & heapin' helping of attitude from our waitress, who by the way, was crazy and upset cause she had a lot of tables.

After a round of pulled pork that was good but had no sauce on it, (more like wet wood chips)and almost dying of thirst between drinks, we decided, to go to old reliable bar. NOTE TO ALL WAITSTAFF: Your tip sometimes depends on how thirsty a guy gets during dinner.

leaving the Roadhizzle, we jump in the vehicle and head to The Stuf, a local watering hole where drinks are strong and reasonably priced. I walk in the door & immediately notice a girl I met maybe two years ago. We were at a house party and we both had been doing some drinking. Yes, I was drunk at this party. It was one of those things you drink and mingle and with each time we found each other, we were progressivly more drunk. Things were going well and she was picking up what I was putting down, until she decided to go all out and ended up so drunk, her friends put her outside in a kiddie pool until she was going to be ok.

Yeah... See where this is going? Me too. Now some of the next part can only be speculation on my part but it would seem so. I mean I consulted the magic eightball and it said, "all sources point to yes." So there you have it.

We walk into the bar and low and behold on the other side of room is Kiddie Pool, (who for the purposes of brevity, will be refferred to as KP from here on out.) KP is staring me down like I stole something from her, and to be honest, I was a little uncomfortable. I was using all of my digital ninja skills to avoid eye contact, and it worked...until my friends sent her a drink...from me. So now I am reasonably sure there is no way I am going to avoid some form of conversation. I have been drinking diet coke at the bar, cause I was sober driver, but this called for a double shot of chilled SoCo. Shot of whiskey, shot of rum, Cardinals, Cardinals here we come! So I go and try a pre-emptive strike. Drop some conversation, and see if I can salvage anything from this.

She was overjoyed at the drink and immediately brought up the KP incident. "Great, she totally remembers we were going to get it on," was all I could think of. At this point the boys were high fiving cause, I've been on the injured reserve list for awhile and this was a "not-so" sparkling comeback. We talk, she buys a drink for me, we exchange numbers and "should totally get together sometime really soon."

I'm not feeling it. As I walk to regroup with the Alpha Male Posse, I'm still not feeling it. Another diet coke just to keep things moving, cause my stomach is in knots from a range of emotions, food and drink. They talk about how, "this is what I need, cause it's a sure thing." Anyone who has been alive more than 10 minutes knows there is no such thing as a sure thing.

Seeing as I am on the ski-jump into hell, why not go to the gentleman's club with KP and sister in tow right? That seems like a great idea! Now, I'm not against strip clubs and have been there on several occassions, but tonight was one of those nights where several parties made "back alley agreements" there would be no trips to the "den of sin." Of course I should have known these were about as meaningful as a fart in church. To the nudie we go... and of course, the one we are going to, not only do despise, but I know a guy who works as hired muscle there. So now I get to show up with all of my friends, KP&sis and do more time at the Caddie'.

At this point, I'm double-fisting bud light at $43 a bottle to keep from punching someone. KP decides she is going to make her move here and pretend to give me a lap dance. We had both had too much to drink for this to be good for anyone. In the long run there was a little grab ass here, a little smootchy smootch there. All of which made some jackhole bouncer...kick me in my bad leg and basically tell me this wasn't my apartment. He's damn right! My apartment wouldn't be decorated like a combo frat house/speakeasy nor would it smell like despair and unwashed cunt. So, this bullshit gets tired faster than Louie Anderson on a stair master. It's decided breakfast is in order, so off to breakfast we go.

Leaving the club, I find I have become a magician, cause all of my friends who came with me, HAVE DISAPPEARED. We get in the truck and I am white knuckling the wheel. Radio is on and KP has her stare locked on. I know if I blink, move, breathe...I'm dead. In my head I'm cursing the fucking turncoats who ditched me and before I know it, she is on me. These are some of those quick european kisses. Not the ones that last for a week mind you, just the ones that let you know you are kissing a smoker.

It has always been a cardinal rule of mine, that smokers need not apply, this wasn't as bad as I thought it would be but still not on my list of shit to do ever again. KP is quick and adept with her tongue tango. It's just enough to keep me interested without feeling like its prom night all over again. KP decides its a good time for secret weapons one and two. the shirt opens up and boobs with pierced nipples are suddenly a la carte. (Sidebar: Still not sure how I feel about the pierced nips)

I notice odd things. The truck is steaming, the engine is running and Spirit of the Radio or some fucking Rush song is playing and I remember being 15, sitting in my room listening to Rush and thinking the be all of existance would be to be able to drum like Neal Peart. More kissing, some boob play, "these nipples are freaking me out" and KP has her wandering hands on a recon mission. The men of trouser hog unit scramble. They are a little unsure about what to do since "this is not a drill." KP stops tongue-molesting me, my mouth and tonsils long enough to look at me and let me know, "We Are at RED ALERT!" The hangar door of trouser hog unit is opened and it looks like a full frontal assault is imminent. However, by the grace of God and Geddy Lee, KP's sister calls, and she answers.

Like David Ortiz, and the '04 Red Sox, I clap and point to G-O-D. Zip up and defrost the truck all in the span of a 30 second phone call. There is still light at the end of the tunnel. We got to breakfast and of course there is the mandatory after party at my bosses condo. We go, she brings me into the kitchen, 3 feet away from everyone else, and gives me another tongue lashing. I was fine...until she "told" me she was going to "seduce" me. I had to jump into my head while this was going on and check to see if she had misused the word. Of course she had, seduce implies secretiveness or covert actions. You can't tell someone you are going to seduce them.

This lack of knowledge on her part made me angry and so I was all about gettin' the fuck outta dodge. I leave and drop off one of my good buddies and between the time I left and got home, KP had txt messaged me 3 times, all in all about 20 minutes.

I woke at 8:30 with the hammers of God pounding on my skull. I had to have a total colonic blowout, get dressed and have the rental back in 25 minutes. I was so dehydrated, one would have thought I had Parkinson's. So I do my business, (anal collateral damage) and grab a snapple. Get the truck back, avoid more fees, and down all 32 ozs of liquid goodness. Now I have no idea how I getting home and like an angel of mercy, my boss calls me to find out if I, "laid some pipe" last night. I told him no, "but he could come and get me and I would buy him breakfast."

We went and got "W" up and the three of us headed to Rockdonald's. By this point they were only serving cheeseburgers...nothing else. So two cheeseburgers, sans pickle and a lemonade later, I'm good to bed. Boss drops me off and I have another battle with the bowl and now things are good. I pull back the covers, get nekkid, put fan on lightest setting and attempt to sleep the sleep of the just.

but I can't

Cause she keeps txting me.

So I wake hours later, still dehydrated and feeling as though I am going to give birth to the largest clay model ever. She calls and says she has a thing to go to tonight but that we can hang out after. "After like leave my house after midnight, after?" Fortunately, this didn't pan out and I was able to drink more water, water, diet dr. pepper, emer-gen-c and water and go back to bed.

All in all, it was a long and drawn out battle. Though there will be scars, I will be victorious.

Sunday, February 05, 2006

What kind of...

Friday night did I have?

Let's just say there were some beverages, women, more beverages, scantily clad women, some making out in the car to rush's "moving pictures" like it was 1989, breakfast, strolls down memory lane, more making out, driving home at 4am, waking at 8:30, releasing the chocolate hostage & having rental back by 9, coffee, work, awakening the "W", rockdonalds, more coffee, txt messages from the previous nights labor, naptime, waking up at 7pm Saturday night dehydrated, starving and with some problems not even Dr. Pepper could fix.

Ask me if I had a good time?

The answer is no.

I hope you all are well.


Friday, February 03, 2006

There was too...

much bullshit going on yesterday for me to get a coherant and readable post out. Long story short, there were dinner and car reservations and about a million phone calls. Physical therapy with Dr. Mengele and the team from Germany in '40. All in all, yesterday was a royal pain in the ass, but it's over and things are at least at situation normal now.

I just got back from picking up the rental for tonight. A Ford Explorer and I have to admitt I like it. I've driven the Excursion, which I think is the next size up. I enjoy being up higher than the confines of the F1's cockpit. However, as I drove and took care of the AM errands, I could hear the screams of American's & Iraqui's alike dying, so I could power my, "Ford Fuck-you Mobile."

The guest of honor had some issues with flight reservations and unfortunately will not be able to make it tonight. Plans are proceeding minus one and Rock, we wish you were going to be here, but I'm sure the boys will have one in your honor.

I finally got through, "Be Cool" last night. It finally comes together towards the end, but I'll tell you...I had my doubts. It's a decent flick if you have patience for Travolta and Co. Personally, I can't stand Uma Thurman. I know she is "hot" and all but she is neith esthetically nor artistically pleasing to me. She does a good job but, it's not much of a stretch from Mia Wallace of Pulp Fiction & if I wanted to watch reruns, well I would.

Tonight I travel down to the coast to have dinner with some good friends. Good friends who happen to be guys I grew up with and guys I grew to know and love along the way. Hopefully, they won't mind the drive to the restaurant, cause I have to say, the food is awesome. Right on Narragansett Bay /the Atlantic Ocean, the view from inside is impressive and with it still being cold, and not yet tourist season, the place won't be plagued by those summer dwellers from fucking NY & NJ. Nothing but savages I tell you.

In case anyone is looking for a good cd to check out, Mae's "everglow" is really good. I have been spinning it for a couple days. In fact it's what I'm listening to right now, keeping me from smashing things with the keyboard.


I hope you all are well.


Wednesday, February 01, 2006

I'm calling...

bullshit on all of it.  Bush needs better speechwriters.  This was blatantly obvious last night.  Foregoing the fact he stumbled through his speech, there was nothing said which hasn’t been said last year and years previous.  It honestly makes one wonder, “how fucking long does it take for him to be able to do ANYTHING right?”  IMO, the whole thing was a contradiction in terms and laden with hollow promises.  I know this comes as not a shock, seeing as how he is a politician, and the worst fucking liar in history, but there is not one ounce of charisma there that might make me think there is any validity to anything he says.  Yes, I know I am bitching and rambling on but seriously, why listen to a guy stand there and lie to you, tell you things are on track, and that everything is going to get better right now, when there are so many video games to play?

Another thing that goes ten miles up my ass sideways, is the fact there were things said last night, that I can’t find in any transcripts of the address, ANYWHERE.  One of the things I found most incredible was that Bush took credit for the creation of (I think he said 2 to 4 million) new jobs.  “What?  Are you fucking kidding me?”  Read the paper every day or go looking for one of those jobs.  I guarantee you, you will not be able to support a family and possibly not even yourself with one of these great new jobs.  Despite the fact the average newspaper is written on a sixth-grade reading level, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that when major American companies are cutting tens of thousands of jobs, what seems like everyday, things are not going as well as planned.  I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be a manager at the Burger King Lounge.  I worked to hard, and put myself in too much student loan debt, to have some asshole yell at me because there were 3 pickles on his cheese burger instead of two.

“Right now, Americans in uniform are serving at posts across the world, often taking great risks on my orders. We have given them training and equipment; and they have given us an example of idealism and character that makes every American proud. The volunteers of our military are unrelenting in battle, unwavering in loyalty, unmatched in honor and decency, and every day they are making our nation more secure. Some of our servicemen and women have survived terrible injuries, and this grateful country will do everything we can to help them recover. And we have said farewell to some very good men and women, who died for our freedom, and whose memory this nation will honor forever.” – Bushy

Those of you who read my last post, if you checked out the link I posted from Matthew Good’s Blog, with the report from, you already know how I feel about the above statement.  I know there are isolated bad cases of bad shit in any given situation, but you should never have to worry about being victimized by people on your team.  In addition to this, having spoken with a few guys who came back from active service, who were in the shit everyday and now are having difficulty readjusting to civilian life, and are being told, “there is nothing wrong with them.” & “It’s gonna take awhile to readjust.” as their military benefits get cut everyday, why the hell would anyone reenlist?  People are losing homes, jobs & families and are being given a handshake & a pat on the head in return.  This is the reason 50,000 volunteers are being forced into extended service.

When you send guys into hell and they are grabbing wreckage off of exploded cars and vehicles on roadsides and asking local welders if they can mount this stuff on humvees, cause the US didn’t send them over with the properly equipped vehicles, or body armor for that matter, who is not going to jump ship at the first chance they get?  I mean seriously, can you blame them?

I hope you all are well.

Cheers, JJ