LIVE from Statutory Hall

If we learned anything it's that there is a War going on in this country, not in Iraq, it's right here and it's between an Elephant and a Donkey. Because I just finished watching the family-friendly pep talk production of George W.'s State of the Union and for once I'm left pondering something other than his utter lack of competence. (this may due to the fact that I mixed in few tokes of the Good Bush and decided to cut ol' W. some slack) However it doesn't change the fact that we are a country divided. And we're even proud of it too (hopping up and down clapping on either side) Honestly I think these nutty politicians may go out of their way to disagree just in order to have something for them to get excited about and root for.

Why have we sorted ourselves into these two surprisingly similar and ridiculous partisans that basically want the same thing but are hell bent on one-upping and out-doing the other on the basic plans to accomplish these goals? After seeing that so predominantly displayed tonight Live across America it's really no wonder Bush is having the limited success and opposition that he's facing today. Believe me, I'm not siding with the dumb Texan but seriously lets all kiss, make-up, and really deal with the problems at hand!
Because we're currently raping our country and it's painfully obvious why these two Parties mascots are a Peanut-brained mammoth and a Jackass. There's a better way.

Gasperilla Anyone?

We certainly got invaded here this past weekend, and us pirates were out in full force for Tampa's Annual Gasperilla Piratefest. Of course I was there, right smack in the thick of it all, and along with some courageous friends we made it a day to remember...
Our tale begins at the ass crack of dawn (come on now, 9:30am on a Saturday) when Melissa began blowing up our phones. After I pulled my self outta bed and popping open my breakfast 14oz SparkZ I knew it was going to be a good day. So we got dressed and loaded up the Steelers cooler with enough beer to kill a horse, and we set off to Tampa with good ol' D.D. Dawn behind the wheel. Although paying $25 bucks to park your car 2 1/2 miles away should be considered highway robbery, once we were all immersed in the throbbing liquored-up crowd of 500,000+ it was totally worthwhile. From this point on the story becomes alittle bit hazy (refer back to all that packed beer and now throw in a bottle of 94 proof Rum) Luckily that's why we bring along the trusty digital camera. Because a picture says a thousand words right? However here are just a few of the High Points I do recall:

Collecting around a hundred beads only to joyfully hurl them back at both parade officials and police, Continuously hugging palm trees and telling them I loved them, Pissing off the side of the overpass while singing "Old McDonald had a Farm" , Doing a total face plant into the grass after attempting to jump thru two mesh barriers, Ogling a 19 yr old chick's bare chest in exchange for 2 beers, Being helped out of a very prickly bush by two cops after I had just fell over the fence into it, Eating a footlong polish sausage with extra sauerkraut and honestly believing it was the best thing I'd ever eaten, Melissa nicknaming Ben "Toast" and then screaming it aloud for no particular reason all day, Walking for what felt like forever back to the car after we lost Dawn, And finally passing out for the ride home as soon as I hit the backseat...

See I told ya I had a good time! And we still have the Night parade on Feb 11th to go. So all you brave souls out there get you pirate gear and beeads ready again and if you're tough enough to hang I'll see you there!

An Undeniable Talent

The Steelers may have gone 11-5 in the regular season, Big Ben may just have the best QB rating in all of the NFL, and they may not only have knocked off the number 1 seed in the AFC (Indy) but also the number 2 and 3 seeds as well. This week we all know that the Bus is plowing his way back to Detroit with the rest of the Steel Curtain to lay it on those rain soaked Seahawks in SuperBowl XL... but the real question is "Will I be awake for it?"
You see at many different points throughout the season I was personally called on by the Coach Cowher to do what I do best and Hold up the wall... or a chair, or palm tree, or even a Stadium. And honestly I don't believe the Steelers would've made it this far without knowing that if they were ever in a jam they could always call on me #99 and my uncanny ability to pass out anywhere at anytime. So come Sunday while you're out enjoying the game just stop for a minute and remember that some of us real fans are out there diligently working for you, holding up that wall...
And look at that I even managed to keep my Corona safe during this untimely Steeler siesta, now that's Real Talent, my friends!

Cellular Daze

They've only been around for alittle under a decade now but the advances in technology and amazing social demand has skyrocketed the Wireless industry to one of the largest in the world. And now cell phones are everywhere: I have one, my parents have two, all my friends have phones (some 2 of 'em if counting work cells) even my 75 yr old grandparents and 13 yr old schoolchildren are mobile today. Like the internet, cell phones have integrated themselves so deeply into our day-to-day lives that honestly could you even think of going without them?

I don't really consider myself a major phone talker although recently I discovered a feature on my new LG 2200 that may make me reconsider. The new upgraded phone was a present for Christmas (mainly because two beautiful women decided to dunk my old Moto in some ice water) but anyway it has been alittle over a month now since I got my LG and I just discovered a counter on my phone which tracks the overall time of both dialed and received calls. Using this counter I discovered in the one month I have had my new phone I racked up a total of 21:28 on it. Damn, that's right, 21 hours 28 minutes or 1288 minutes! I've practically spent one entire day of January on the phone! I'm just estimating that those numbers are basically accurate and will continue if not grow some as I use my phone for more work related calls. So now lets do the math...Give or take 24 hrs of phone use a month, that's 12 full 24 hrs periods a year, and after 5 yrs that will make it 60 full days of talking. So with these numbers staying true (factoring in growth) by the time I am 51 yrs old like my Father, I will have spent an estimated 342 full days talking on my freakin' cell phone! (that's 492,480 minutes, and one hellva Cingular bill) Seriously almost a entire year of my life!
Kinda crazy to think about huh?
And I don't even use mine that much... talk about a Cellular Daze, lets just hope all those "cell phones cause cancer" rumors were just bullshit.

The Juice that Kills

For this week's HumpDay winner I thought we'ld take alittle trip down Brentwood's memory lane... We all remember the crazy trial, the full blown media attention, the national obsession the entire country had for this gridiron superstar who may (or may not have) violently murdered his wife. But really, why did we all care so much? Was it because some of us were fans of his? Or was it because Nicole was a pretty blonde white girl allegedly killed by a rough n tough black man who just so happened to be famous? Personally I don't know and couldn't give two shits either way. Justice is supposed to be blind, right? And even if it's not, the fact is he's still free and off somewhere playing golf with Kato Katlin. All I know is if one day (in the very distant future) I, myself, have a beautiful blonde daughter I'm giving that little girl nothing but Apple Juice in her sipper cup, because O.J. is the juice that kills.

Waiting to Go

It's a new week and therefore we need a new top10. I've felt alittle bad because I haven't be posting that much recently, but not to worry I still have many a lesson to learn... but for now I'm just Waiting to Go...

1. nothing says Pimpin' quite like puffing Swisher Sweets in the hottub
2. Here we go... Steelers are going to the Superbowl... clap!
3. they shouldn't be allowed to call 'em Strip clubs if the girls don't strip
4. blowing too hard in a woman's ear can be a total deal breaker
5. what's crazier than having to train 5 days straight just to serve freakin' tables
6. don't get so stoned that you can't move and end up blowing off hot chicks
7. free tank of premium gasoline, yup I'll take it
8. Movies: is there anything better than spending 2 hours in someone else's overly dramatic life?
9. sometimes all you need after a bad weekend is a couple rounds of 2-for-1 margaritas
10. Always read your email in private

Jew so Crazy

With the hectic mess that begins early in November with Thanksgiving, and snowballs throughout December thanks to Christmas and New Years, now safely behind us, I feel that this HumpDay is the perfect time to reflect upon Holiday Season 05.

All in all last year's season was a great one for me personally, with fun-filled trips back to both Naples and Lexington. However I did pick up on one very disturbing new trend this year. Simply put, Happy Holidays... Huh, Happy Holidays? What the hell happened to Merry Christmas? I'll tell you what happened, this year the entire country sold out, PC style. "But not everyone celebrates Christmas" I know that, which is exactly why we have all those terrorists out there. Give Al Qaeda a couple of Christmas trees, alittle eggnog, and some mistletoe, Bam, no more suicide bombers. They'ld be too busy making sand ornaments and sucking face. Problem solved.
However the worst sect of politically correct narcissists come from right here within our own country. (and jew know who you are) I mean really come on, Hanukkah as a national holiday? Dreidels and Menorahs? Someone should really smack these people upside the head with a slab of Bacon and wake 'em up! So next year, America, remember whose country this is and say "Merry Christmas" people! And for the rest of you... Jew just crazy!

Yup, I'm gonna offend a few people with this one... nice :)

Forcibly Priceless

Okay it has been awhile since our last weekly Top10 list and frankly I've missed recording these valuable lessons I learn and passing them on to you for your enjoyment. As you can tell my weeks continue to contain plenty of excitement, so in the immortal words of Wayne and Garth "Party On, Dude"

1. A dozen screaming men slapping high-fives while jumping in a circle, this must be Steelers Football
2. there's not a better meal than my famous grilled BBQ Beer Chicken
3. that midnight visit to the hottub is a great place to make new friends
4. you know you're hanging with a crazy psycho when you are forcibly kept in their apartment until you drink your way out
5. Anthony gets quite excited and vocal while watching "24"
6. Nothing reminds me of KY like cowboy hat wearing rednecks line-dancing
7. There is a big difference between exaggerating and straight up lying
8. Two guys should never drink over 4 litters of vodka in one weekend
9. Hardcore sing-along to Queen's Bohemian Rhaposody: priceless
10. Always root for the Underdog

Ex-Schwag

Okay I recently got an email from a friend of mine (whattup Chen!) with her ranting and bitching about how her Ex is currently holding a possession of her's up for ransom. (the fact that it's an expensive Victoria's Secret bra rises the question of how he so recently got ahold of it away, but that's another story)
Either way her plight got me thinking about certain Valuable schwag I've lost at the hands of steamed exgirlfriends. Let's see, my awesome tear-away Adidas warm-up pants, my stylish blue-dialed Fossil watch, and my kick-ass perfectly broken-in red Kangol Visor... just to name a few. And then there's the schwag I've swiped from them! (yes, panties are involved) I believe this issue raises a few certain moral questions. Why do we do this? What causes us to steal small personal valuables from the people we once loved? Is it the desire to continually possess something that will forever remind us of that person? Or are we just stealing something we know they'll miss? And which is better, the obsession-like need to own a piece of someone or the vindictive nature to rob them of alittle something of themselves?
Personally I'm stumped, and yet have both participated and been on the receiving end of this behavior. I guess I want to believe that these actions are just our own pathetic way of holding on to something good we've once had and have since lost. Although seriously now aren't we supposedly adults now? So come on, Jennifer, I will totally mail you back all those sexy lace thongs I stole but I want my goddamn Adidas pants back!

Dream Catcher

Alright here's a recent interesting dream of mine I had last week...
"I'm outside of a large high rise residential building (like a Trump tower) most all my friends and family are there as well. However on the front facade of the building there are 4 steep waterslides. Two about 10 stories up and two around 25 stories up. We're all discussing which slide each one of us wants to go down. Some people don't want to go down at all, others want the 10 story slide, and others pick the highest one. The ones who want to slide climb the ladder of the slide they chose, I pick the far right highest one and we all slide down. It's scary to be up that high but a good kind of scary. I woke up while I was in the bottom pool with everyone who had slid down."
Anyway I emailed this dream to my Uncle Andrew's church down in Naples that offers dream interpretation and today I recieved this reply.
"This dream shows that you have an adventurous spirit and have a desire to push the limits in life and spiritually. However, as you push forward in spiritual matters you quickly find yourself back to a none threatening place were things are more placid and acceptable. God is challenging you to climb higher and be more adventurous in Him."
Quite interesting... I have lots of strange dreams maybe I should try to remember more of them and email the others to this Naples Dream Lab. (email: theprofessor@tlcnaples.com) Maybe they can figure out why I'm so nuts. :)

Cooking it up Special

What's the best thing about having a Girlfriend? Having someone who loves you for you? Nope. The nightly expected sex? Naw. Having someone to clean your condo for you? Sure not. Getting into bed before her, ripping a fresh one under the covers, holding it in there until she comes to bed and then savagely pulling the covers over her head trapping her in close intimate proximity with your nasty fart? Now you're talking! There nothing that says "I love you" and "You're the one for me" like a personalized Quality Dutch Oven. So fellas, tonight for HumpDay swing by Taco Hell on the way home from work and cook up alittle something special for that someone special in your life. She'll be yours forever.

One Trained Pussy

Happy Friday to All! It's another beautiful day here in the Tampa Bay area and I myself and so ready to get the hell out of the office and begin the weekend. We do have the first week of the NFL playoffs to look forward too, but other than that this weekend doesn't have any solid plans as of yet but if I know me fun and trouble will find us without much hassle. I love living down here in Florida but I do miss my cats something awful. Anyway I ran across this pic online and I said "Wow, what a kitten!" I mean how nice would it be if after work you went back home and were greeted by this little cutie and her fat jay? That's one pussy I'ld be sure to keep around, and I don't think that's a bag of Catnip either.

Wrapped Up in Roses

My roommate Ben and I went out to a little party last night to watch USC & Texas compete in the Rose Bowl (the SuperBowl of college football) Now while I am a big NFL fan I couldn't give two shits about college football. (remember I went to school at Kentucky) So anyway I viewed this party merely as an excuse to get drunk and hit on unsuspecting ladies. Pretty much what I do every night. Well, the beer was going down like water last night and there were a few attractive chicks and plenty of hot wings so I was quite satisfied. As the game poured on I switched from Miller Lite to double fisting with Crown & 7's and a Heineken, and really begin to enjoy myself.
After the Rose Bowl ended (which turned out to be a surprisingly good game) we were making our way back home when Ben abruptly turned into this hole-in-the-wall trashy strip joint called "Sweethearts." And you know I didn't voice any objections, because anytime is a great time for trashy stripper tits in my book. Upon entering the place and taking a look around I was disheartened. The place looked like a strip club and smelled like a strip club, but where o' where were the trashy strippers swinging from the shiny pole in the center of the stage? They were nowhere to be found and the eager patrons were just staring up at a empty stage. This was not right and I just couldn't stand for it. As I've confessed before in an earlier post (see archives: FIRMative Action) I secretly long to be one of those trashy strippers. So yup, you guessed it, I hopped right up on that empty stage and twirled around like a true "Sweetheart", much to the surprise of everyone else in the club. After a few more twirls and camera phone shots we hightailed it outta the club and spent the entire ride home laughing hysterically.
Wednesday night Recap: a good football game, blackened wings, plenty of beer, and a lonely stripper pole... It's sure nice to be home and back in my regular routine.
Now shake that Money maker, baby!

State of the Union

It's a New Year, 2006 and today is the first Hump Day of the new year. At times like this most of us like to reflect on the year past and hope for the best in the year before us. We take a look at our personal lives as well as the state of our country and it's leaders. At the top of that list is our president, Mr. George W. himself. We all saw him rudely interrupt Family Guy the week before Christmas (a grave and unforgivable mistake in and of itself) just to babble about the costly and losing war in Iraq. Why? Because his approval rate is falling faster than a freshman Sorority girl's panties during Rush week. And I'm sure now in 2006 we will be subject to yet another intruding national address detailing some ridiculous strategy for making America great in the new year all while padding his own pockets with rising oil prices and the continual bombing of some third world country just for dissing his Daddy. Don't blame me, I voted for Kerry. So put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Twelve New Rules

Okay I've been gone for a little while now on Vacation in Ky but I've still been thinking about all those things that annoy me and I sure have missed making my topTen lists. So here's a different version... so Hit this: Twelve New Rules for 2006.

1. New Rule: Stop sending me those email ads for Classmates.com! There's a reason you don't talk to people for 10 years. Because I didn't like them then and hate them now! Besides, I already know what the captain of the football team is doing these days: he's the punk outside washing my Beemer.

2. New Rule: Don't eat anything that's served to you out a drive thru window unless you can accept what you're going to get. People are acting all shocked that a human finger was found in a bowl of Wendy's chili. Hey, it cost less than one dollar. What did you expect it to contain? Smoked Salmon? Quit your bitching, it was only some Mexican's finger, pick it out, toss it out the window and enjoy your salad! I mean come on, I've found worst things in my waterbed after a night of heavy drinking!

3. New Rule: Stop saying that these teenage boys who have sex with their hot, blonde teachers are permanently damaged. I have a better description for these kids: Lucky Freakin' Bastards. I never got to fuck any of my hot teachers, wait a minute damnit, I didn't even have any hot teachers!

4. New Rule: Ladies, leave your eyebrows alone. Here's how much men care about your eyebrows: Do you have two of them? Okay, we're done... Now on to your tits. :)

5. New Rule: There's no such thing as flavored water. Or bottled water. There's a whole aisle of this crap at Publix, plain old Water. You want flavored water? Pour some Bourbon over ice and let it melt. Now that's flavored water.

6. New Rule: The more complicated the Starbucks order, the bigger the asshole. If you walk into a Starbucks and order a "decaf grande half-soy, half-low fat, iced vanilla, double-shot, gingerbread cappuccino, extra dry, light ice, with one Sweet-n'-Low and one NutraSweet," You're a huge asshole, stay home and make your own damn coffee, you're holding up my line.

7. New Rule: Just because your girly tattoo on the small of your back is Chinese characters, it doesn't make you spiritual. It's right above the crack of your ass and it really translates to "me so horny" not "love and kittens" The last time you did anything spiritual, you were on your knees praying to God you weren't pregnant. You're not spiritual. You're just whore. Now get back down on those knees.

8. New Rule: Competitive eating isn't a sport. It's called gluttony and it's one of the se7en deadly sins, remember? ESPN recently televised the Nathan's Hotdog Eating Championship, why? I guess because watching those fat, ugly white athletes playing Texas Hold 'Em was just too damned exciting. If I wanta watch a little Japanese person shovel down 80 wieners, I'll hit up the internet, I know just the site.

9. New Rule: If you're going to insist on making movies based on crappy, old television shows, then you have to give everyone in the Cineplex a remote so we can see what's playing on the other screens. Let's remember the reason something was a television show in the first place is the idea wasn't good enough to be a movie. Although Jessica Simpson looked damn good in those shorts.

10. New Rule: No more gift registries. You know, it used to be just for weddings. Now it's for babies, new homes, and graduations from rehab. Picking out the stuff you want and having other people buy it for you isn't gift giving, it's the white middle class version of Looting. Where are the New Orleans cops with guns when you need them?

11. New Rule: And this one is long overdue, No more bathroom attendants. After I shake it off, and zip up, some guy is offering me a towel and a mint like I just had sex with George Michael. I can't even tell if he's supposed to be there, or just some freak with a fetish. I don't want to be on your web cam, dude. I just want to wash my hands.

12. New Rule: To you MILFs out there, when I ask how old your stupid kid is, I don't need to know in months. "Little Michael is 27 Months." No he's not, He's two. Yup, that'll do just dandy. He's not a fine wine, he's a oversized pet that talks. And I didn't really care in the first place.