Darwin Was Wrong

Anyone who seriously believes the validity of the theory of evolution has probably never watched a little TV show called Country Fried Home Videos. It's a sort of redneck/white trash version of America's Funniest Home Videos. I have long known that there are some really dumb ass people out there, but these folks take the cake.

There was a whole family on, (Oh yeah, this bunch was REAL white trash. They had the prerequisite junk pick-up truck and junk station wagon out front along with another pick-up truck in a real country setting.) three generations worth, the Donahoos they were called, from Calhoun, Kentucky, who participated in a "game" they called "Bee Fightin'". The premise of the "game" was to get the whole family out, each would get two handfuls of bushes, someone would go disturb a bee hive, and then everyone would flail their arms around wildly and fight off the bees.

I can't make this kind of shit up.

One of the "young 'n's" said that generally everyone gets stung 5 or 6 times each, sometimes in the lip, "and once, someone swallowed one and got stung down the throat." Even Grandma gets in on the action. She said, "One time [a bee] got stuck in one of my hair curlers..."



Fuck me.



I'm sorry, I just can't buy the whole natural selection resulting in improvement of offspring when there are so many morons like these going around reproducing like mad. This isn't evolution, it's dysgenics.

Farewell, Old Girl

Dolly

July 3, 2000 - July 23, 2007

After battling diabetes for almost a year, my best girl, Dolly, finally succumbed to the disease. I have volumes to say concerning the thieving vets and the practice of veterinary medicine in general, but at the moment I just don't have it in me.

Dolly was a rescue, and at least I can say for the five years that I had her, she was loved and lived the life of Riley. You will be dearly missed, old girl.

I Can't Take You Seriuosly When You're Wearing Spandex

People who define themselves by their hobbies are generally complete arseholes. No exception are the ones who call themselves Mountain Bikers, especially the ones who live in South Florida, since it is utterly flat here. They should instead call themselves "Offroad Bikers", or better yet, just get truthful about the matter and call themselves "A Pack of Cunts" because that is what they are.

Now I actually do enjoy riding in the Great Outdoors- it can be quite fun. And there are special parks that you can go to specifically for bike riding- just avoid going to them on the weekend when they are overrun by smug, egotistical fuckers who think that they own the place and everyone else doesn't belong there.

I really get a kick out of these fuckholes with their $2,000 bikes and their Camelbacks and their Spandex. It's absolutely hilarious to see grown people riding around the woods in their little fucking Spandex outfits. For fuck's sake! Where do you get off being so damned smug when you're mincing around the forest looking like that?! It's not like you need to be aerodynamic up in there.

And for people who claim to be so "serious" about their "sport", they really are the most ignorant, dirty fuckers. No fucking clue about riding etiquette--like letting someone know if you are going to overtake them, or riding on the right side of the bike path. No, just fly around like a bunch of drunken mongs. And throw your garbage all over the place while your at it. That'll show the rest of us, what with our $75 Wal-Mart bikes and cotton clothing.

Just look at this lot showing their shortcomings.

Wankers.

The Next Interloper Will Be Eviscerated

There is scarcely any greater hell than having to go do anything with my mother. I had to take her to go get a new cell phone. Taking my mother to do anything always ends up taking much longer than it needs to take as well as contributing to my high blood pressure. This trip would be no different.

My mother understands almost nothing about electronics and explaining such things to her is about as productive as explaining them to a palm tree, except the palm tree will not aggravate the shit out of you by asking questions about things which were already explained.

So we go on down to the Borg Cube of Retail (aka Sam's Club) since that was where she got her last cell phone. We go in and find the cell phone kiosk and I attempt to explain to the sales girl the problem that my mother was having with her old phone. As I'm telling her about the poor reception, some shmuck interjects with "Where you live probably doesn't get any coverage. You need to go on the [service provider's] web site and look at the coverage map."

"Excuse me?!? Who the fuck are you, and why the hell are you butting yourself into this conversation?" was what I was thinking.

"I live by blah, blah, blah, and I don't have any service." Well boo-fucking-hoo.

"Oh, you live between the old Bell South microwave antenna and the TV antenna farm. No wonder you don't get any service," says me.

That was my first mistake--acknowledging the asshole. I should have told him where he could go but I doubt it would have helped. This guy was intent on bloviating to somebody and my mother loves to engage with such morons because a complete stranger is obviously an expert. (And did I mention that he was wearing a pink and lavender plaid shirt?! Now you've GOT to listen! /heavy sarcasm> )

I couldn't take it. I just walked away and let the two of them yack it up. The plan was to come back in a few minutes and hopefully the asshole would be gone. Well, hope does not reside at Sam's Club. When I came back, he was still there, jacking his jaw. I could feel my blood pressure rising, so I walked on over to the pharmacy to check it out on the machine. Yup. Up 15 points.

After a few more minutes, I returned to the phone kiosk. STILL FUCKING THERE! Well, to make a long story short, after an HOUR AND A HALF, the motherfucker finally left. An HOUR and a fucking HALF. I was fucking livid. I swear I will never let anything like that happen again.

And ya know what the worst part was? It only took about 10 minutes to actually pick out a new phone and take care of the incidentals.

Anti Child Actor Rant

I can't fucking stand that damned AT&T commercial with the "precocious" little children. Everyone knows that "precocious" is just a polite way of saying "insufferable little shits". I can't stand kids to begin with, and those obnoxious little bastards just irritate the ever loving fuck out of me.

Their parents should be drawn and quartered as a warning to other parents not to try to get rich off of making their kids into child actors. Go and get a job and quit inflicting your kids upon the TV viewing audience.

That is all.

Happy 4th of July and all that crap

It seems that the older I get, the less I'm interested in celebrating holidays (except for Halloween, of course). The 4th just doesn't do it for me anymore. I just couldn't be arsed to get off my nice, comfy couch, get out into the insane South Florida traffic, all to stand around in the rain with stupid ass, annoying people just to see 15 minutes worth of fireworks.

No, not me.

That would all be completely unnecessary. Why? Because I live in the ghetto. Now most folks suffer under the misconception that people in the ghetto are utterly deprived. This is not entirely true. Now, these same people might not have the money for rent, but there is ALWAYS money enough for fireworks! And not just any rinky-dink sparklers and smoke bombs, but the finest illegal fireworks smuggled in from Georgia!

Now if you go down to see one of the municipalities' fireworks shows, all you're going to get is a 15 to 20 minute show at the max. New York City? Maybe 30 to 45 minutes. But here in the ghetto? Seven straight hours worth of pyrotechnic splendor!

I think my neighbors did a mighty fine job re-enacting the Battle of Baghdad this year. Hell, the smoke is still hanging in the air thicker than at Seminole Bingo and it's just a little after 1am!

Great job, people. You really out did yourselves this year.

Bang Your [Fish] Head

A few weeks ago, I was so bored that I thought I might want to go to a Marlins' baseball game since I'd never been before. And since I didn't care to suffer through it alone, I decided to call Mrs. PA and see if she wanted to go (she's usually game for anything).

So I call up Mrs. PA and she mentions that the game on the 30th has Joan Jett playing a concert afterward. WHAT?!? JOAN JETT?!? Well, that was all I had to hear. I fucking LOVE Joan Jett. I might even go gay for Joan Jett (well, maybe not, but still!) It turns out that Mrs. PA couldn't go but I found someone else who wanted to go.

So I go down to the stadium and get my tickets, all happy as a lark. Then a couple of days before the big event, my friend cancels on me. Fuck! I paid for two tickets, now who am I going to get to go with me? Everyone I know was either working or going out of town and I am going to see Joan come hell or high water. But wait! What about the neighbors across the street? The religious, home schooled, shut-ins who run inside whenever they see me--ya, those neighbors.

Well, I call over there and lo and behold, the female one wants to go to the game(I made no mention of the concert, for I am truly evil, and will enjoy the forthcoming reaction).

The big day finally arrived. I said that I was going to see Joan come hell or high water, so as it turns out, I got the high water! About 2 hours before the Marlins' game was supposed to start, the biggest, nastiest thunderstorm blew in. It looked like the apocalypse. It was raining sideways and all the streets were flooded. Sorry, not good enough. I waited until it died down (about a half hour before the game started), collected Shut-in Girl, and went. I was originally going to have someone drop us off, but I decided to go ahead and pay the $10 to park so we wouldn't have to walk in the rain. Well, after we actually got there and parked, it had stopped raining. From then on, it totally cleared up and the sun came out and it never rained again all night.

The baseball game was totally boring. One good thing was it was a give-away night and I got lots of free crap--foam fish heads, Marlins' car flags, baseball cards, and a bag thingie.

The Fish started Byun-Hyung Kim as pitcher and he pitched pretty well. Then they took him out after about 6 or 7 innings and since the Marlins' bull pen has no depth, they went from winning 1-0, to being behind by 5 runs. Then in the 8th, the Marlins started a come back. I was praying that they wouldn't come back because I wanted to see Joan and I didn't want to suffer through extra innings. Luckily, they only came within one run. The Braves won 6-5.

Time for Joan! YEAH!!!!!! (Shut-in Girl had no clue who Joan Jett was--this was going to rule on so many levels.) They announced that everyone could move in closer to any empty seat so we made our way to the first base line by the dug-out and got what I thought would be pretty good seats. Then they did the fireworks (which were pretty awesome) while they set up the stage. Then they started letting people on the field down by the stage. What the Hell?!?!! I would have TOTALLY went down by the stage but it was too late by then to try to find my way down there, that and I had Shut-in Girl in tow.

Anyway, Joan and the band came out and totally rocked! They started the set off with Bad Reputation followed by Cherry Bomb. Then, when they started in with Do You Wanna Touch Me, Joan wanted audience participation. It was fucking ace to see Shut-in Girl singing, "Yeah, oh yeah!" along with Crimson and Clover and I Love Rock N Roll. "I know this one!" says Shut-in. Really?!? This was so totally ruling. Joan and the band did a couple new songs, The Mary Tyler Moore Theme, and I believe finished it off with I Hate Myself For Loving You.

Totally. Fucking. Ruled.

And I must say, Joan looked so good. She doesn't look her age AT ALL. They totally kicked ass. They did about a 45 minute set and sounded totally awesome! If I ever get a chance to see her again in a smaller venue like The Culture Room, I am SO going. Great live show.

Even Shut-in Girl had a good time.

I love corrupting religious folk.