Boo, Bitches.

You afraid of the possibilities yet? No? You will be.

You... will... be...

To John From Vulture:

Hey. We had some good times together, right? Picking over the mutilated carcass of your former self-respect, dignity, and integrity, and selling whatever was left over to the GOP Fascist Machine? Yeah, I know: good, good times. But it's juuuuust about over, dude.

Wednesdays Are For Meetings. Zzz...

Often on Wednesdays (like today, for example) we have meetings at work. They are not enjoyable, not helpful, not productive, and not conducive to anything save juvenile snickering and the passing of notes. Note to management: No More Meetings.

Look, It's Just A Lot Of Plastic.

I mean, assuming that we *have* to buy all these plastic bottles... can't we just refill them maybe even once in a while? I mean, we're drowning in plastic, people. Drowning. Literally. I mean, even "literally" as it actually means, meaning, "literally."

Look, it's a lot of plastic. Is what I'm saying.

Ah... Optimism...

So Big John McCain continues to have faith in the Democratic Process, which at this point can only be explained by senility, painkillers, and the unshakeable belief that Karl Rove is going to somehow figure out how to once again thwart said Process. Whatever it is, I'm going to be pretty sad if there's not at least one more Patented John McCain Krazy Kook Meltdown between now and next Tuesday...

Everything Else Being Equal...

Hey! Did you hear the story about the financial services CEOs who felt genuine remorse for the way they ass-raped the entire American economy and every middle- and lower-class person therein?

No?

Yeah... me neither...

Just Saying.

Confidential to XXX at XXX:

Chill that shit out.
Before it gets chilled
the fuck out for you.

Crazy Tracy - Ow My Brain!

Crazy Tracy needs no introduction from the likes of me, and probably not from the likes of you.

Errr... enjoy...?



From "Now on PBS," forwarded by Hannah. Yikes.

Ah, The Mix Tape.

I was reading an article on the AV Club about making a mix tape with songs from cult movies, and was thinking about High Fidelity (the book, not the movie), and got to thinking about the greatest-ever advance in recording technology:

The fact that cassette tape degrades over time, and will eventually remove all evidence of our humiliating early endeavors in creating the soundtracks of our love.

Oy.

Now we'll just have to see how long CDs actually hold up...

Running Late... Too Many Cables...

It's a big, convoluted world we live in. If only we could safely rely on someone whose worldview seems to have been formed completely in a dirt pit 35 years ago, and who is proud of never having sent an e-mail.

Yeah... that would be awesome...

Ah Yes. The Give And Take Of Quality Debate.

Kids, barring an anti-miracle, it's all over but the shouting. And nowhere was that more obvious than in the last debate, which included such favorites as: We need to concentrate on what's important for our country right now! Like whether that guy that lives in that neighborhood was a terrorist, and how that makes Obama a terrorist!

Or my favorite: The people at McCain-Palin rallies do not say hateful things, and are great and patriotic Americans. Video and audio evidence notwithstanding.

At Least You Don't Live In Alaska.

While working on a user's computer the other day (just moments after being accused of trying to sell America out to the Muslims, whatever that means), I saw this mousepad, and realized that they had missed the most important part about what wolf-leaders do. Since wolves are leaders. Or leaders are wolves, which would explain a lot. I'm not really sure how corporate metaphor works anymore, to be honest...

"In Bloom" by Giampaolo Starship.

How badly were we robbed in a Rock Band competition at work a while back? So bad, that I don't even need to show you the other band's set -- just know that it was a boot-tread-ful of shite compared to ours.

They even railroaded us by having us go first, and by sabotaging our equipment, and still we shone. They can suck it.

We did get consolation prizes, though. So, whatever.

The Key To Internet Success?

Strateto-based humor. True story -- the kids today are all over it.

The Secret To Fake IDs:

Get one that's so confusing that the person checking it just takes your word for it, rather than spend so much time looking.

Or better yet, go out in public with me, and don't get carded at all! (Seriously?!)

For The Love Of All That Is Holy.

Beat. The. Vols.

Please.



UPDATE 10/13: Thank you.

Bonus Laziness!

Grateful. And Lazy.

Thank you so much to all the folks what came out last night to see "Chesapeake," my show at the Darkhorse. Plenty of opportunities for more folk to see it! Plenty of open seats! All the details at www.groundworkstheatre.com, a sight also maintained by yours truly, with all of the high-quality content and 70% less use of the "C" word.

In the meantime, yours truly is lazy and behind schedule today. Here's a vocationally-appropriate joint from Toothpaste for Dinner:


toothpastefordinner.com

First Cut From Our Rap CD.

Ladies and Gentlemen -- this is what happens when no one comes to a showing of "Chesapeake" -- I end up having too much time on my hands...

Snoop Dogg's "Who Am I," as covered by Jay-C feat. Clyde Dogg and Dubble-M

(Warning: NSFW lyrics - careful with the volume...)

PS: FWIW, this works really well in IE 8 and not so great in FireFox 3. Go figure.

PPS [UPDATE]: That may have been either a home connection or Vista issue -- FF3 works fine at work.

It's 'Bout To Get Nasty Up In This Piece.

By special suggestion from Hannah Rushmore, I present the Obama campaign's threat to the McCain camp, which I suggest is not taken lightly...

Cast Your Nets, Ladies!

I have seen some ladies desperate for marriage in my time. Lucky, most of them had their sights set elsewhere, or there were other issues, like they were saving their first kiss for the altar. Ha. Ha Ha. No, really.

I think this was supposed to be a precious "casual shot" for a wedding. Mostly, it just seemed dumb. Where's her tacklebox? I know about fishing.

Dear Ravens.

Did you like that? DID YOU LIKE THAT?!

Like my man Rip would tell you:

GET YOU SOME OF THAT!

The Year John McCain Jumped The Shark.

No one gets to use the term "Maverick" any more, unless either:

1. Referring to the Tom Cruise character in "Top Gun,"

2. Referring to the James Garner TV Western,

3. Speaking entirely ironically.

More Of The Same... More Of The Same...

Hey, it's a lazy week here, and if it's working for John "Did I Mention That I Was In A POW Camp? Because I Was" McCain, it'll work for me. I'm a Maverick! Whooo!

"Maverick." Right.

"But... he's a Maverick, see..." Thus the mantra of Sarah Palin's desperately stupid time-wasting fake answer when pressed by Katie Couric (!) to explain how a candidate who had spent his entire career pushing for deregulation was suddenly a regulatory champion. Sides with Bush on over 90% of all votes for the last 8 years? Changed his stance on every meaningful issue in order to court the GOP/Fundamentalist base? Named a running mate with no qualifications, just to re-assure said Fundamentalists? Adopted not only the same campaign strategies, but the same campaign personnel that he decried as "evil" and "intolerant" just two campaigns ago?

Right. Maverick.