October 20, 2005

Let’s just be honest

Here’s a headline from AP this morning:

Wilma Roars Toward Yucatan, Southern Fla.

As of this writing, the fucking thing is wobbling around at seven MPH. Seven MPH is not roaring. It’s also nowhere near Florida, it’s currently not heading towards Florida, and I suspect that these pinheads have no idea where it’s going to end up.

I even have some proof.

For the past three days I’ve heard and seen nothing but one forecast track, the published conglomeration of models interpreted and published by NOAA. Last night’s 5:00PM discussion, which can be found archived here, shows not only the unpredictability of hurricanes, but the ineptitude of forecasters. Witness, then, what happens when they throw their hands into the air:


Emphasis mine.

Today they’re back to the old track, most likely because they have no clue and are afraid to say so.

Wouldn’t it be better if they just were honest about it? Just once I’d like to hear them say, “Look, man, this thing’s heading west right now, but we don’t where it’s going or when it’s going to get there. Our educated guess says it hits the Yucatan on Thursday, but after that we just shake the magic eight ball.”

I bet that any one of us could predict where this thing lands with as much accuracy as the National Hurricane Center.

Posted by Paul! at 08:38 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

October 19, 2005

Dog Attacks Anti-Dangerous Dog Bill Author

"ALBUQUERQUE, N.M. - The author of a new state law that allows felony charges against owners of dangerous dogs was hospitalized over the weekend after his own dog attacked him."

I rarely laugh out loud.

Posted by Paul! at 09:00 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

October 17, 2005

Aging whore points finger at others

Drudge, who gets more pathetic with each passing day, gives us this:


Not much of a story, really. Three lines about the old trollop turned Nostradamus. He also adds, “Developing.” Yeah, you definitely want to keep your eye on that one.

Twenty seconds of my life, gone the way of the dodo.


Posted by Paul! at 03:30 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Iron Chef...Improved

After reading this I had an inspired idea on how to improve the show Iron Chef America.

Currently, they have three judges. Two are usually food critics of some sort, and the third is usually some minor celebrity. On my version of the show, they’ll have six judges. Three will be proven food people. The other three? Hobos.

Surely they can find three hobos who can use a hundred bucks and meal. Meanwhile, the entertainment value goes up tenfold. There’s no reason why hobos can’t be food critics and just think of the potential. You’ll have some world class chefs being judged, likely harshly, by bums. Those fragile egos will be put to a serious test.

Maybe they can give the bums each a new suit of clothes, a bath and a shave so that they don’t stink the place up too bad and then let them comment and fill out scorecards like the other judges. It would be interesting and probably hysterically funny to see hobos critique and articulate their views on haute cuisine. I’m telling you, this would be huge, especially if they start hollering and have bad table manners.

The chefs, for they’re part, will have to satisfy both astute food industry people and the hobos.

Maybe I’m just fascinated by hobos put into close contact with “the beautiful people.” Is that wrong? I mean, it’s not like I’m calling them vagrants or anything.

Posted by Paul! at 03:15 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

Muffin Tops

I was in a position to watch a great number of people this weekend, being in a very crowded place, and I’m sorry to report that the incidents of inappropriate attire people don for public display has not lessened.

I witnessed several instances of heavy women wearing low rise jeans or shorts with a skimpy top that bares the midriff. The problem with this particular style of dress on a heavy woman is that when they squeeze into those jeans, the fat gets pushed up and over the waistband creating a “muffin top.” I had no idea there was a specific term for this until my old lady enlightened me whilst pointing one out.

She elaborated.

“The problem is, almost everything is cut to low rise for women nowadays,” she said. “But you have to have a great body to pull off the bare midriff without the muffin top. That’s why a lot of girls wear a top that covers it. As you can see, some people either don’t know or don’t care about the muffin top.”

It was enlightening.

Aside from the muffin tops, I saw a lot of other disturbing attire. Guys wearing Capri pants. I wouldn’t have believed it had I not seen it. Someone needs to explain to me to me how a guy can walk around in Capri pants and not feel like a total dickwad—because the guys I saw looked like total dickwads.

Some people wear what I like to call the “designer costume”. That’s where every piece of clothing they wear has DKNY or Hilfiger stamped all over it. I’m not a fan of obviousness. Guy’s do this more than girls and it makes me cringe.

Then there’s “the juicy chicks.” Women who wear shorts with the word “juicy” written prominently across their ass. While that may work for women in decent shape, the majority of women I saw should really know better than to draw attention to their fat asses by boldly printing slogans across it. Some of these broads could have a whole paragraph written back there. What could they possibly be thinking?

Don’t think I’m against heavy people… that’s not the case at all. I’m against heavy people wearing clothing that’s clearly inappropriate. If I had a big beer gut, I wouldn’t wear tight fitting shirts or take my shirt off at every available opportunity. For some reason fat guys love to take their shirts off.

On the bright side, I saw a hot chick wearing some kind of spandex, half body suit that fit like a second skin. It was black and red and I didn’t see her until my kid pointed and called out, “There’s Mrs. Incredible!” And that’s exactly what she looked like. Yes, one could say it was inappropriate attire, but at least it didn’t repulse me.

Posted by Paul! at 09:18 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

October 07, 2005

Could it be that simple?

I rarely bring up politics or world events, but I may have stumbled on to something quite by accident.

From here:

“A man holds a woman by the hand and dances with her in front of everyone. Does that serve the national interest?”

Who gives a shit? Nothing these assholes do serves any real national interests. I think the reason these people are so full of hate is because they’re not getting laid. They’re so repressed by Stone Age beliefs that they probably need to be taught masturbation.

After controversies when a Hamas-led council halted a dance festival and Islamist gunmen stopped a rap band performing in Gaza, Dr Zahar defended the enforcement of a strict interpretation of Islam.

Okay, so they’re not into hip-hop. I can’t fault their judgment on that, but they need to loosen up. Let’s face it, we’ve seen this all before. Remember Footloose? Kevin Bacon wasn’t having any of that no dancing bullshit, and he taught that town a valuable lesson.

Don’t you think these people want to make out? I mean, if a guy’s got his arm around a chick and he’s trying to get his other hand up under there it’s hard to hold to a rifle. If given a choice between making a bomb or maybe getting to third base with some chick at a party, who the hell would choose the bomb? I think what the majority of these people want is a six pack of beer and a box of rubbers. Kevin Bacon may be the answer to this entire problem.

Posted by Paul! at 08:39 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

September 12, 2005



If all elephants are large, and some elephants are pink, are all pink elephants large?

The answer, of course, is yes.

Let’s try another one.

If Sean Penn roams New Orleans in a sinking johnboat with his photographer and press people, does that make him a flaming asshole?

And if, on top of that, he ‘comes ashore’ and roams the streets carrying a loaded shotgun like a wild buccaneer, does that upgrade his status to “one incredibly fucked-up individual nearing the level of political omnipresence only previously held by Bono”?

Yes. Yes, it does.

Does he look bat-shit crazy or what?

h/t: Drudge

Posted by Paul! at 03:20 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

Exhibit A

I’ve been around the block a few times, but never in my life have I seen someone get handed their ass more completely. Sweet Jesus!

Posted by Paul! at 01:35 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack

September 02, 2005

Martial Law

It seems there’s a key element missing from the martial law in New Orleans. You can’t declare martial law when there’s no actual martial aspect. That’s the key element. It’s like calling out “Bingo!” when you haven’t actually filled your card.

“Storm victims were raped and beaten, fights and fires broke out, corpses lay out in the open, and rescue helicopters and law enforcement officers were shot at as flooded-out New Orleans descended into anarchy Thursday.”

I don’t know how many hours it’s been since this catastrophe started but it looks like they're edging closer to Lord of the Flies every day.

Rape? All I can say is that I’ve never seen a more comprehensive advertisement for gun ownership in my life. The scariest part of this whole thing is how many days have gone by with no law and order.

I’ve never been a moving to Montana kind of guy, but seeing how the government (at every level) has handled this fiasco I might have to do a re-think. What if this was dirty bomb? It’s become quite clear that in times of desperation you should be prepared to protect your family because no one will do it for you.

And while most of us are civilized people who respect our neighbors and our community, it’s clear that not all of our society has reached that plateau. We obviously have members of society who are parasites, void of all decency and human compassion. Animals who would take advantage of a desperate situation and prey on others at levels beyond comprehension.

I can’t help but think what would happen if a small nuke went off somewhere in America. Right now I’m wondering what the response time would be if we were invaded by a hoard of Canadian coin collectors, and if they’d be able to take several states before FEMA, the Feds and Barney Fife collaborated on a plan to stop the carnage.

I know that among the cops and guardsmen on the scene there are probably many fine men, heroes even, who are going above and beyond their duty. I know there are citizens who are helping their neighbors. Good men standing tall. But I’m not too impressed with the people running the show.

I fully realize that the media is showcasing the bad news. But if you’re one of those people who believe that when a catastrophe strikes in America, 10,000 navy seals led by John Rambo will immediately swoop from the sky carry your ass to a nice cozy B & B with fluffy pillows--you’re delusional.


• Police snipers were stationed on the roof of their precinct, trying to protect it from armed miscreants roaming seemingly at will.

• "They have quite a few people running around here with guns," he said. "You got these young teenage boys running around up here raping these girls."

• Charity Hospital, one of several facilities attempting to evacuate patients, was forced to halt the effort after coming under sniper fire.

Convinced yet?

Posted by Paul! at 08:25 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

September 01, 2005

I pose a question

Anybody had word whether people in other countries give two shits about the worst disaster to strike America in the last hundred years or so?


Of course I've donated. You?

Posted by Paul! at 09:07 AM | Comments (6) | TrackBack

August 31, 2005

The only good looter

I’ve avoided saying anything about New Orleans since the ordeal has actually taken place but I have to voice an opinion here before I have a stroke over it.

It’s quite simple really. Death to all looters. I’ve been through hurricanes, including Andrew--a category five storm. I’ve been without power for weeks, had nothing to eat, the whole nine yards. However, as miserable as that was for me, I had a lot going for me. I still had a structure to live in. Damaged, to be sure, but I still had most of my possessions and a leaky roof over my head.

These poor bastards on the gulf coast have nothing left in many, many instances. Nothing. The sum total of their lives has been wiped fucking clean. They have nowhere to go and no hope for the foreseeable future. And anyone who would take advantage of a situation like this is beyond my contempt.

Looters have already shot a cop in the head in New Orleans. I would have no problem executing these savages with no remorse.

From here:

“A giant new Wal-Mart in New Orleans was looted, and the entire gun collection was taken, The Times-Picayune reported. "There are gangs of armed men in the city moving around the city," said Ebbert, the city's homeland security chief. Also, looters tried to break into Children's Hospital, the governor's office said.”

My response would be to end this problem right now. I’m a martial law kind of guy. One warning shot below the waist before I unload a clip.

I’ve never been big on leniency.

Posted by Paul! at 10:10 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

August 30, 2005

Blogger now flagging “Objectionable Material”

Next time you visit a “blogspot” blog you’ll notice a new little flag you can click if you find the content objectionable. They claim on the site that they’re not endorsing censorship and even add the line, “…we prefer to keep in mind that one person's vulgarity is another's poetry.”

Fair enough. Maybe.

“We track the number of times a blog has been flagged as objectionable and use this information to determine what action is needed.”

Now I have to ask, wouldn’t the world at large benefit more if they had a flag to click if the content just plain sucked? Or the blogger was an asshole? Because I’m here to tell you, I really see more potential in going that route.

Posted by Paul! at 10:50 AM | Comments (13) | TrackBack

Yo Yo Yo

The best idea I’ve heard in a while, courtesy of the Borowitz Report:

Rappers Could Skip Firearms Training, Pentagon Believes

He said that by recruiting soldiers at the MTV Music Awards, the Army would be gaining a pool of enlistees who would require no firearms training whatsoever, saving the Pentagon and U.S. taxpayers billions of dollars a year.

“Teaching these guys how to use a gun would be a serious waste of time,” Mr. Rumsfeld said. “It would be like teaching Courtney Love how to snort powder up her nose.”

While the Defense Secretary would not specify how the Army would induce rappers to enlist, he told reporters, “We are fully prepared to offer them a Cadillac Escalade, and we may throw in a ho or two as well.”

Meanwhile, I've got nothing.

Posted by Paul! at 10:20 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

August 29, 2005

Time for an intervention?

My old lady and I are both addicted to French Market brand coffee. It’s from New Orleans and quite simply, no other coffee will do.

Over the weekend the old lady started to comb all the local grocery stores and buy as many cans of the stuff as she could get her hands on. She’s afraid that if the hurricane hits New Orleans we could be without our beloved French Market coffee for months. Moments ago, I received this email from my wife:

“I bought two more cans at the store today (all they had) and I plan to continue cleaning out the other stores for all I can find. I hope I can beat others to it. I’m sure that most normal people are still worried about the loss of life and destruction of property. I’m worried about that too, of course, but I’ve been addicted to this coffee for over a decade. I don’t know if I can live without it. You could say that I am also worried about the destruction of property, it’s just that I’m concerned with one specific place: The French Market Coffee Company.”

Emphasis mine.

Posted by Paul! at 11:13 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

Pervert gets a good beating

I live for stuff like this. Some wack-job broke into a house five nights in a row to steal a woman’s panties. The woman’s husband was understandably pissed off and set up a home made alarm with a bra, string and coffee cup. When the thief set off the alarm the husband beat the living shit out of him with a wooden leg from his child’s crib. The affidavit makes for an entertaining read. And of course, there’s a picture of the thief all beat to hell.

Oh, I forgot, and the perv kept his collection of panties in a lunchbox next to his bed.

Posted by Paul! at 10:04 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

July 28, 2005

Mental Math

Sorry I haven't been blogging lately, but I've been in the hospital. It's nothing serious, I've just been reading too much news lately. See, I was perusing my favorite stock market site the other day and found out that apparently, there's no reason for oil prices to be so high. According to that guy they're inflated. Hmph.

Then over the next few days some big oil company's turn in earnings. Marathon doubles their earnings this year, Exxon's increase by a third, then Shell does them one or two better. It's good to know that when I pay $2.36 a gallon at the pump that it's not all going straight into some fatcat's pocket right? How much have gas prices increased in the past year? Little over a third right? The frustration begins to set in.

Then I click on over to CNN, where I read that a bill has just been passed that "sends billions of dollars in tax breaks and subsidies to energy companies, but is expected to do little to reduce U.S. oil consumption or dampen high energy prices." Sa-weet!

So while I'm paying out my broke ass for gasoline, it's not because supply is shortening or internal costs are increasing; it's because these fat oil bastards are eating so much Alaskan crab and Crystal that their Armani suits don't fit anymore and they've got to get new ones stiched every month or so. And when these rich big oil motherfucks do their taxes at the end of the year, they get to write of billions. What the fuck is going on? That's when the doc said the aneurysm hit. I passed out in my chair, my head went forward onto the desk table, and I suffered a mild concussion. Good thing I was surfing the net at work, or I probably would've never been found.

Posted by Id at 04:35 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

July 07, 2005


So, the Islamists really did a number this time in London hey? Speaking of numbers, which they seem so fascinated with, how 'bout these numbers. July 7th, 1940 was the day Hitler chose to begin his London Blitz. I'm sure those cheeky fucks sat aroung their Afghan cave chuckling to eachother about the irony of the day they chose to inflict terror on the British people.

Well, you friggin knuckleheads, in your effort to be all...numerical and cipher-oriented and shit, you forgot one thing about history in general. It tends to repeat itslef and if memory serves, London couldn't be broken by the barrage the Luftwaft unleashed on them, so I seriously fucking doubt a few mujihadeen with Jansports full of pipe bombs is going to bring a people like that to their knees. Even the IRA, after thirty years of bombing, has decided to take a more diplomatic route.

Furthermore, these British people are crazy. Maybe you guys haven't ever heard of rugby, but it's kind of a cross between ice hockey and boxing, but without all the pansy-ass pads and gloves. And these people do that for fun. You thought it sucked when the US started bombing your ass into the stone age, wait 'til the fucking Manchester United fans get a hold of you. I once partied with some of them after a soccer match, and they had a glass-eating contest. Two guys would face off, slam their pints, smash the glass on the other's forehead and eat the shards that were stuck in his dome. First one to clean his plate gets a free round. And that was after a winning match mind you. I'm telling ya, they're nuts. Good luck with that.

Posted by Id at 05:11 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

June 27, 2005

I Fought the Law, and the Law Didn't Make Any Damn Sense.

So, I was driving home Friday night and I stopped at the gorcery store to pick up some beers. I came out of the grocery store parking lot and hopped onto the main road. Maybe a second later I see those old familiar blue lights flashing in my rearview. Fuck

Fuck 1) because I hate getting pulled over. I have a great driving record and it seems like cops know that and they try to fuck it up all the time. Fuck 2) because I had four drinks in the past 80 minutes or so.

I pull over immediately, flick on the dome light, and start fishing for my registration. Cop walks up and syas something obligatory. I ask what's up, I know I wasn't speeding. "Well, you blew the stop sign pulling out of the Food Lion back there," he says it like I did it to tease him.

"Oh damn. Honestly, I didn't even know there was one there."
"Have you had anything to drink tonight?"
Shit. I sigh. "Yeah, had four drinks."
"When was the last one?"
"Ah, 'bout fifteen minutes or so ago."
"Mind if I ask you to take a breathalyzer test?"
Shit. I sigh. "I guess not, no." I breathe into the tube, he says, "Well, looks like you blew a .09; right above the legal limit."
I die inside.
"But since you just had your last drink, I'm going back to the car and I'll be back in a few minutes." He returns to the cruiser.

So I'm sitting in my car, reviewing the scenarios sprinting through my mind; wondering why the hell he didn't show me the breathalyzer. I scrape my tongue, swear under my breath, check the rearview. Shit.

Cop comes back, I breathe. "Still showing a .09 pal." Fails again to show me the breathalyzer. "But by the time I get you downtown, you'll be below the legal limit, and you're less than a mile from home. I'll cut you a deal here sir. You get out of the car, walk home, and I'll just give you the ticket for running the stop sign. I've got to run, but I don't want to see you driving this car."

"Thank you officer." I'm releived, confused, but glad that my life hasn't been screwed up. I grab the beers, a few items from the car, lock it up and begin the short walk home.

Now, after getting home and reviewing the events and checking my ticket out; I come to some weird conclusions:
1. The back of the ticket is not filled out. It doesn't say if I have to appear in court, fines, court costs; nothing. I remember him saying I had to go to court, but the entire back side of the ticket was left blank.
2. I never saw the breathalyser results. I've never had to take one without the cop showing me my results.
3. There's no stop sign pulling out of the grocery store and onto the main avenue. I went back the next day just out of curiosity and there's nothing.

I talked to a few lawyer friends and they think I should take a few pics and fight the ticket. I wonder if I could just mail the ticket in with a picture in the envelope. Case closed right?

Posted by Id at 09:13 PM | Comments (4)

June 17, 2005

Jackson's Just a Minor Leaguer Compared to This Playa

When your neighbor has so many sexual encounters that he keeps them catalouged in the thousands by sexual encounter, personality type, and hair color; you know he's gotta be a pimp. Or a felony child abuser.

What I though was interesting was the way the article described repeat child abusers. People who use their power and position to lure needy or easily corruptable children into easily controllable situations. And this guy's been doing it for like 30 years or something without every registering as a sex offender. I mean, what's it going to take to put a child molester away? Do we have to wait until my kid comes back from the playground walking crooked or what?

Posted by Id at 04:51 PM | Comments (0)

June 15, 2005


I told you , you fuckers. She was brain dead. Couldn't see shit, didn't know shit, didn't care. And you wanted to keep her alive, against her wishes. You bleeding heart pussies.

Posted by Id at 05:12 PM | Comments (0)

Michael Blagg

So last night there was this thing on TV called "48 Hours: Mysteries'. The episdoe they did was on a guy named Michael Blagg who was convicted of murdering his wife and daughter. Without any hard evidence or even eyewitness testimony.

Apparently, he wife was shot in their home, taken to a dump, and left there wrapped in a tent. his daughter was never found. Blagg's alibi is that he was at work that day; he even left voicemail messages for his wife and child on their home answering machine.

They never matched the bullet in the wife to a gun owned by Blagg. They never said his alibi wasn't true. I mean, if he was at work, people would remember it, the timeclocks and surveillance video would prove it. The neighbors don't remember hearing a gunshot in the iddle of the night, or seeing the family van leave at odd hours. There is nothing connecting this man to his wife's murder except circumstantial bullshit.

The best part is, a witness for the prosecution (the wife's mother no less); admits to making shit up on the stand. She got up there and made up her testimony as it popped into her head, saying that Blagg choked his wife once. She continues to go on saying she never reported the incident, and has never spoken about it until that very moment in the courtroom. She got up on the stand and was allowed to make an unbased, unverifiable testimmony of something that may or may not have happened years ago. Shitty.

The media made him out to be a cheating (a claim later revealed to be completely unfounded and untrue) porn addict. The media reported all this shit for a year or something until the trial date, inundating this small community with all sorts of fucked up opinions. Needless to say, by the time jury selection came around everyone had already made up their minds. The public defender didn't stand a chance against such fools, and he went to jail.

I can't imagine coming home from work to find your wife and child dead. I can't imagine not being able to join the searches for them because the media made people think it would be a conflict of interest. I can't imagine being sentanced to life in prison with no hope of parole, when the two people you love most in the world aren't even alive to come visit you. It's like a fucking horror story.

Honestly, I'd kill myself before I'd ever go to jail for some shit I didn't do.

Posted by Id at 04:55 PM | Comments (2)

June 14, 2005

Sound Off

Michael Jackson. What can I say - luckiest child molester I know.

1. Has America made such idols of it's celebrities that we cannot convict them of any misdeeds? See also, O.J., Robert Blake.

2. There is a difference between doubt and reasonable doubt. I guess defense attorneys have done such a great job blurring the line between the two, that they are now interchangeable terms. If a man allows young boys to drink alcohol in his presence, shows this his porno stash, and then asks them to join him in bed; how can you possibly reasonably doubt what his intentions are? If I did the same to a woman my age my intentions would be pretty damn clear, and I would assume if I did the same to a child my inetions would get my happy ass sent to jail.

3. Even if Michael is suffering from some sort of advanced Peter Pan Syndrome, why would he be interested in sex, porn, and alcohol? These are all things that adults become interested in. If his aim was purely to find a playmate, why would he sleep with them? How many of the fellas out there had sleepovers where you got into daddy's liquor cabinet, looked through his porno, and then all climbed in bed together?

He's a sick fucker, and he should have at least gone down for attempt to molest and the alcohol charges. It's a complete boondoggle; and I hope we see him in court again.

And did anyone get a load of those damn jurors? What a bunch of fucktards

Posted by Id at 05:07 PM | Comments (1)