tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37954188014934061202024-03-12T23:12:46.183-04:00The Ambulances Will Have to Wait Their TurnExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-11147069725007473812010-04-21T12:57:00.004-04:002010-04-21T14:54:49.941-04:00What is "right?"I haven't written anything here for quite a while. When I arrived,there were several cobwebs, some dust piles, and something that I swear was gnawing on a bone, huddled in a corner. Upon chasing whatever the Hell that was out, and a little sweeping, I find myself sitting here at a keyboard, with some things to get out and onto virtual pages. <br /><br />I have to say that first of all, I am depressed. I am a happily married man with a beautiful wife, ambitions of starting a family, and some great friends. Unfortunately, I have some things in my life that simply refuse to catch the wave, and as a result, leave me in depressed state. Knowing that I have those other things in my life that are very positive makes me sure of the fact that I won't stay depressed long, but none the less, I am down. I won't get into any detail about what exactly is the bane of my existence right now, because I don't really think it would do you, or me any good. What I will tell you about, is something that happened to me today that might actually fuel a positive swell, and a ride that if you'd like to, please, jump on.<br /><br />I went down to the little general store down the street from where I work so that I could get a snack. Our office here has been lacking lately in the snacky-snack department, and I had a craving for some Combos; cheddar cheese wrapped in a cracker barrel shell. I went to the beverage cooler and grabbed a fruit punch Vitamin Water before turning around and selecting my little bag of hunger relief. I waited in line behind two women who were of the same mind as I, while they purchased their snacks and hope and prayer scratch tickets. <br /><br />Nearly a minute goes by, as I stand patiently in line, while the two women swipe their payment cards and enter some probably poorly chosen pin numbers. Their cards accepted, they obliviously leave the store and make room for me to do some business. My Combos and Vitamin Water are rung up, I'm given a total, and I reach into my wallet and pull out a bill for which I would need change back. As the cashier is occupied meticulously counting out my return, I take a look down at the counter, and the various chewing gums and mints that are available. I don't really know why I looked, but I suppose I always do something like surveying my surroundings at a time like this. <br /><br />I see to my left some packages of Stride gum, and I chuckle to myself as I remember some of their more clever and humorous commercials. Something was blocking the items to the right of the Stride, and I think nothing of it as I continue down the line, and make eye contact with the Tic Tacs. Their commercials aren't as amusing to me, so I went back left so I could discern what the blockage was over the other items. It was a tri-fold, black leather, man's wallet. It looked like a small tent, as it was folded open with the open side facing down, resting on what I later discovered to be more Stride gum. I picked it up, and the next thing I can see is that this wallet is not empty. There were two rather large wads of cash folded into the wings of the wallet, with perhaps some receipts residing in the middle of the tri-fold. I was speechless. All of this was happening very fast, as you can imagine, since there really is very little time between one giving money and then receiving change. <br /><br />I'm going to stop here for a minute so that I can ask the question that you read in the title of this blog. What is "right?" What is "the right thing to do" in this small corner of time? I'm sure that everyone has been asked at some point or another, "What would you do if you found a wallet full of cash that wasn't your own?" There are, of course, two very different immediate answers. 1. Keep the damn thing. You found it, right? 2. Return it to its rightful owner. You would want yours back if you lost it, right? <br /><br />Well, my brain didn't even give me a chance to ask that question of morality to myself. I picked up the wallet, looked at the cashier as she handed me my change, and said, "This was on the gum..." She looked at me like I told her a dirty limerick that she had yet to understand and said, "What do you mean?" I repeated myself and pushed the wallet in her direction. She took the wallet and looked at it for a second while I added, "Someone just left it here on the gum." She put the wallet down behind the counter and said she was sure someone would be making a phone call seeking their lost wallet. I agreed and left the store, heading back to work with snack and drink in hand.<br /><br />I suppose I am very satisfied with myself, knowing that my first instinct in this scenario was to immediately not assume possession of something wasn't mine. I do believe that everyone wants to be a good person, and I take some pride in knowing that I didn't even have to choose. At the same time, like I said, I am depressed, and debt happens to be a partial contributor. I don't know how much money was in that wallet, but I know that I could have used it. Was the wallet a sign of a higher power helping me in my time of need? Was the wallet there to test my moral fiber in someone else's time of need? Was the money left for me, or was it left for me to return? Was there a better choice than Combos for my snack? I don't expect anyone to be able to answer these questions because no one can. No one knows exactly what was supposed to happen for me at that moment. <br /><br />Not keeping the wallet did effect my depression in two ways. At first I was more depressed that I didn't hold onto the wallet. I could have counted the money, weighed whether or not to keep it, and wrestled with that whole monster. There was a way to instantly help my situation, and to possibly let me come out on top with a little to spare. Then, I was happy that I didn't keep it. Like I said, I was happy with myself for not even entering into a situation where I had to weigh pros and cons, and ultimately decide between good and bad like some kind of lack-luster after school special. Being the proverbial "good person" really can make a difference on many levels.<br /><br />After all of this is said and done, and after I have written about it here, I must say that I feel better. For the better part of the day, I had been letting the things that depress me take over. The things that are getting me down are small, miniature in comparison to the greater things in my life that bring me nothing but joy. Thanks for reading, and I hope you've been inspired to focus on what brings you happiness. The weight of the world doesn't have to be too heavy.ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-48162155332013884542009-04-02T10:31:00.006-04:002009-04-02T17:10:14.381-04:00Size Matters Not<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC7Q39GP2fO1x0GRDOE0725AyVF0-qHkfbEAApV511RuiMBfX845OYy4akQXQe9AxXn2ROtXO49Z_jxYyLS4_iSsZ3o4qf2bugnu-a8t4ZiNUPJ3n52m4GEyeOYEFn1J8kT0d2_6rGvj_D/s1600-h/travistinyarm.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC7Q39GP2fO1x0GRDOE0725AyVF0-qHkfbEAApV511RuiMBfX845OYy4akQXQe9AxXn2ROtXO49Z_jxYyLS4_iSsZ3o4qf2bugnu-a8t4ZiNUPJ3n52m4GEyeOYEFn1J8kT0d2_6rGvj_D/s320/travistinyarm.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320101914967548770" /></a><br /><br />I got this pic from my good old Friend Travis. Notice the exceptionally small looking right arm on said Friend. I couldn't take my eyes off it! Falling victim to strange lens perception, Travis' right arm has now fallen victim to this odd story. Enjoy!<br /><br />------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br /><br />Depending on the job, it's generally a good idea to work in some type of a team. It doesn't always have to be a large team, but let's face it; at least two heads are better than one. That leaves only the smallest team size, a pair, in most cases. We see it all the time. Beat cops generally patrol with a partner, a sales pairing may head out to take some business' money, and when one arm just isn't enough to pull the weight, it enlists the help of its trusted counterpart on the other side. <br /><br />Edward "Lefty" Pendleshoes was in the prime of his career. He didn't work for just one outfit, however, and his career has always involved just getting by and finding odd jobs to get the bills paid. The key to his success was actually in his trusted partner, Johan "Righty" Ingersol. <br /><br />The pair met one fateful day when Lefty was so very young. There was a sparkling bottle of formula dead ahead, and the orders from above were to acquire the bottle, bring it close, and await further instructions. Upon getting the order, Lefty shot into action and went straight for the target. Lefty was new at this, but had an amazing level of determination. He got to the bottle and very quickly realized that he may have bitten off much more than he could chew. <br /><br />His first attempt simply knocked it over. After a slight pause to survey the new scene, and a quick moment to collect himself, Lefty went back after his mission. This time, he was able to get around the cylinder but was unable to do much more than move it around without actually lifting it up. Nearing the point of exhaustion, Lefty took one look up and witnessed the arrival of his soon to be inseparable partner. With a quick nod of acknowledgement to each other, Lefty and Righty wasted no time in using each other's unique skill set to not only right the fallen bottle, but further the mission to completion by perfectly lifting it to the appropriate altitude, where they rested shortly and awaited further instructions. <br /><br />From that moment on, Lefty and Righty became legends in their field. Wonderfully spun yarns about their exploits quickly made their way through the community, but they never let the fame cloud their vision. The team motored along for nearly five years before an event took place that would shatter any future dreams of perfection. Lefty began to notice that Righty wasn't always there when he needed him. It wasn't a big deal at first, but it soon became clear to Lefty that he was carrying far more of the load than necessary for a well oiled machine like the team of old. <br /><br />Lefty got the heartbreaking news at 2:30 in the afternoon one day. Coming from out of nowhere, Lefty found himself in the possession of a very serious piece of documentation from the Front Office. Scouring the document, he discovered why Righty just wasn't the same anymore. Righty had developed a quite severe case of scoliosis, and as a result he would never be able to grow into a full sized and able bodied member of the team, and because of his affliction, Righty was to be medically discharged from service. <br /><br />Taking the news rather hard, Lefty found himself taking a three week sabbatical and fell into a devastatingly dark and deep depression. His three weeks turned into three months before Lefty had the courage to step out of his pain filled shoes and back into harsh real world that awaited him. He was instantly welcomed back into the fold, and when paperwork came his way about a new partner detail, he didn't even look at it. He told his superiors that he would work with no other partner, and demanded Righty back. Lefty would not leave a brother in arms, and claimed he owed his very existence to the past he and Righty had shared. Upon hearing the news, Righty had no words and shed a single tear, as he and Lefty shared a mighty embrace. <br /><br />Lefty and Righty would go on to have many more adventures, and became the tightest, and most effective team ever imagined. Their success in spite the odds, should be a deep lesson for us all, and an inspiration never to forget. Godspeed to you, Righty and Lefty.ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-55253639691798361512009-03-19T19:52:00.009-04:002009-03-19T20:58:28.649-04:00I'll get the ball rolling......<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGjLxrc0CrenUILrkxkmGIYwr4IBm9ehbkngZomO_3yDXOkDSzwnoON0OR7nETKEvZXoavNSqdZG59dlWaZisAZ2KqvWQe1nbWpt1SvjuutVNo3fLoPJ_8GUXWKNjj8aMXF-BiLnYR-n8r/s1600-h/PB120003.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGjLxrc0CrenUILrkxkmGIYwr4IBm9ehbkngZomO_3yDXOkDSzwnoON0OR7nETKEvZXoavNSqdZG59dlWaZisAZ2KqvWQe1nbWpt1SvjuutVNo3fLoPJ_8GUXWKNjj8aMXF-BiLnYR-n8r/s320/PB120003.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315059492764561202" /></a><br /><br />Ok, so the above picture of 2 lobster traps has given birth to this strange tale. Enjoy!<br /><br />-------------------------------------------------------------------------<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Andy looked down toward his previous Home for the last 25 years for the last time. He had spent the last 25 years in prison, and he was now headed home. He claims to this day that he did not commit the crime for which he was imprisoned, and will not speak about the actual incident with any detail. Ask him and you always get the same dry, listless answer. "It wasn't me." Andy Dufresne took one long look at Clawshank Prison, and deeply inhaled before letting out a long and free exhale. <br /><br />The only problem with being out of the joint, was that now he had nowhere to go. His job would most assuredly have gone to the next bright eyed and big clawed lobster with a degree. He was an only child and had no family to speak of. His Mother was taken in the night one cold and wavy November morning back in 1967. His father crawled off afterward in a grief and panic stricken chase, but he was never heard from again. Leaving little Andy to fend for himself at but a mere 13 years old. <br /><br />Andy persevered against the greatest of odds. He managed to successfully avoid predation and was able to find food in all of the places he remembered following his mother. Andy's success lasted for almost 4 years. After that, Andy's girlfriend at the time, a hot little swimmer with 8 of the sexiest legs on a nephropidae Andy had ever seen, named Jane, turned up missing one day. They found her remains the next day. Andy was instantly accused of kidnapping and murder. Maxillae records of the body came back with a positive identification to Jane, and a piece of Andy's molted skin was found on the tail of the deceased.<br /><br />Andy showed all the remorse of someone who had just had a Love of their life taken from them by the cursed grip of Lady Death, but it didn't help him any. The judge had an open feud with Andy's father at the time he disappeared. They had been high school buddies, and eventually had a terrible falling out that amounted to Andy's father owing his former friend a rather large sum of money. The judge took his aggressions and former feelings of hatred and turned them on Andy, sentencing him to a life sentence in prison. <br /><br />But now that was all behind him. Andy actually felt good. His helicopter (yeah I forgot to mention he was being airlifted out of Clawshank. Sorry.) landed and Andy took his first 8 steps of freedom. He crawled away from the helipad and started to actually form a smile. His smile didn't last long however, as thoughts of revenge soon crept into Andy's conscience. He never mentioned his plot to anyone in the big house, but he had spent his quiet time in his cell hatching the brilliant plan. Andy did all he could to have his sentence cut short, and after 25 years and finally a winning appeal, Andy was let free. The judge who had wronged him died years ago, but Andy knew he left behind a son. A son who would pay for his father's mistakes just as Andy had.<br /><br />The End?<br />---------------------------------------------------------------------------<br /><br />The pic I took in York Beach last...I dunno...a while ago.ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-28004667879750867392009-03-13T09:23:00.001-04:002009-03-13T09:23:27.044-04:00The Great Debate<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEyDYB-UMeo5mAgdNh86lD3s2WqPHS_A-s3OMdP3HGaiJWa-sgw2J9RnE5knsxuj5G8eXizgWy-tZ0gTpAZ4AZ0LEQVpPA4rwk4DGyigZKTKFnmwuj3daxQ6rQz8ONEsFMK2dPu-mpFDcm/s1600-h/DLR.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEyDYB-UMeo5mAgdNh86lD3s2WqPHS_A-s3OMdP3HGaiJWa-sgw2J9RnE5knsxuj5G8eXizgWy-tZ0gTpAZ4AZ0LEQVpPA4rwk4DGyigZKTKFnmwuj3daxQ6rQz8ONEsFMK2dPu-mpFDcm/s320/DLR.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239274282651838002" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5u4UK-e-Dnj51hYdinljh3_TyJZ1MoDNHexAtOEMBoLWRRD273PQC-CH9aQ1i4kRMfFtsCqUE62orJVSFo-rIr_v67Q0_Rxl0Zl0rMQWbJaz-LLkRkDaNULHkTGIkJ1H5j1ZvhX3v5R1C/s1600-h/sammy.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5u4UK-e-Dnj51hYdinljh3_TyJZ1MoDNHexAtOEMBoLWRRD273PQC-CH9aQ1i4kRMfFtsCqUE62orJVSFo-rIr_v67Q0_Rxl0Zl0rMQWbJaz-LLkRkDaNULHkTGIkJ1H5j1ZvhX3v5R1C/s320/sammy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239274287333218386" /></a><br />The above pictures were ripped off from the website www.vhnd.com. Go there for all news related to anything that is and ever was Van Halen.<br /><br /><br />The Great Debate has never been about Politics. There has never been a bigger debate than the one that involves Diamond David Lee Roth, The Red Rocker Sammy Hagar, and Van Halen. There probably never will be either. Why am I writing about this topic now, when there really isn't any reason? I dunno. I haven't blogged in a while, and I guess I needed a fix.<br /><br />Van Halen. A band that at this point in their storied career needs no real introduction. But since it's not a blog without words, here it is. They feature one of the Planet's greatest guitarists, Edward Van Halen. His Brother, Alex pounds the drums. Rounding out the rhythm was Michael Anthony on bass, and the original Frontman was David Lee Roth. From 1978 to 1984 they enjoyed all the success expected of a multiplatinum, hard rocking, band of their time. The music was about partying hard, having fun and looking damn cool doing it. Diamond Dave was the pinnacle of frontmen, providing his audience with high flying acrobatics, flashy clothes, and a huge dose of oozing sexuality. All of this was given at the cost of the actual lyrics! Probably the biggest complaint that anyone would have had of Diamond Dave was that he could not accurately reproduce what as on the record. High notes aside, some said he couldn't even get the lines right. But it didn't matter. He was no less than the greatest Frontman of his time. But in 1984, his time was up. He was given the boot from the band. He didn't like the direction that Edward wanted to take. Exit Dave, and enter the Red Rocker, Sammy Hagar.<br /><br />Sammy Hagar was not as big a name as Van Halen, but he wasn't a stranger either. People knew him from his early work with Montrose, and his subsiquent solo albums. He was a musician, and that was something Eddie really liked. Dave played the part of frontman/lead singer better than anyone, but how musically talented was he? Sammy was a decent guitarist in his own right, and could sing in a wider range than Dave could. All signs pointed to Van Halen now being complete. Again. The new album sold like crazy and solidified Sammy's place in the band. All was well. It seemed. Die hard Davers did not accept Sammy Hagar, and did not like the new music. They bought it, went to the shows and got just as drunk as they did in 1980, but they didn't like it. What didn't help is that aparently Sammy would find a way to dig at David whenever he could. Probably not the best idea when you're taking over for someone the entire fan base adored, and considered the definition of Van Halen. The Rift had been created. Sammy went on for the next 10 years continuing to write poetic lyrics to Eddie's more pop influenced guitar and synth riffs, while DLR tried to soldier on with a solo career. Van Halen moved on, but some of the fans (a lot of them) wouldn't let the ride go smoothly. Over the years, and even to this day, Sammy gets slammed because he is not David Lee Roth. Dave gets slammed because he's not Sammy. ARGHHH!!! It makes the brain hurt, quite frankly. Both singers (yes, Dave can sing) are different. Sammy is not Dave, and that's where the real crux of the Debate begins. People don't like change. Even when the Change works out, and the realization sets in that without the Change, the greater good would not have come about, people still don't like the change. <br /><br />Which side am I on? I like the music Van Halen made with Sammy Hagar. I just do. I don't dislike the Original stuff, I just like what I like. But more than anything, I'm an Eddie Van Halen fan. I love guitar, and between Eddie and Jimmy Page, it doesn't get any better than that for me! I don't care who sings. I don't. If I don't care, then why do I bring any of it up? Because Van Halen is trying to get back into the limelight again. They had a wildly successful US tour in 07, that eventually spilled over into dates in 08. I saw it. Eddie was out of this world. Seemingly sober (as compared to the Sammy Reunion tour in 04....oh, God what a mess...) and happy as a clam, Eddie shared the stage with his son on the bass. That's right, Michael Anthony, the original bassist, and the only guy who really just had to shut up and put up with the brothers VH bitching about who they wanted to sing, was ousted in favor of Eddie's teenage kid. The popular story is that he was booted because he spent so much time with Sammy, playing shows with Sammy's band, and Eddie had the audacity to complain about the money Michael was making from the Van Halen name. <br /><br />Like I said though, Van Halen is trying to get back to form. They swear they have a DVD coming out of the latest tour. Where is it? Eddie swears he has all kinds of new music he has been writing and recording. Where is it? EVH has a new line of signature guitars that go for about the cost of a small car. Those came out on time. He also has his own line of amps, again, they cost about as much as it did to raise a kid in 1989. Those came out on time. My point is that us, the fans, have been chomping at the bit for new music from the band we call Van Halen for years! As much as I love Sammy, the new tracks from 04 aren't enough. Sammy Hagar, minus Van Halen, has been putting out music consistently. The quality is usually hit or miss, again as much as I love Sammy, "Livin It Up" wasn't really that good. His latest though, "Cosmic Universal Fashion" is MUCH better. <br /><br />So what the Hell is my point? I don't really have one. It's just that when I go to a website like vhnd.com, which is the Van Halen News Desk, every single time they post an article that relates to Sammy Hagar, you wouldn't believe the infantile animosity that ensues within the comment section of each one. It's crazy. I tried reasoning with these cretins long ago, but have since stopped since it seems that part of their brain died in 1984 when Davey was out. Now, since Dave is back, they assume they've won the War. Whatever....I just don't care anymore. If Eddie decides it's time for a new album then you bet your ass I'm going to buy it. He says they're going to wait until after June to really work on it because that's when his kid, Wolfgang (only a musician would name his kid that, right?) graduates High School, and Eddie himself is getting married again. We'll see, I guess. Hopefully by Halloween I can be ripping some serious air guitar to some new Eddie masterpieces. Until then....ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-50976367717619455272009-03-08T16:41:00.003-04:002009-03-08T18:08:56.684-04:00I'm just going to say this....I should never have clicked on it. I should have just scrolled down and not even paid any attention to it. I didn't. I clicked right on Chris Brown's name on the Google News, and I wish I never had. Does anybody not know what's going on with this grade A pussy? That's right Brown. I called you a pussy. You are one of the biggest pussies I have ever heard of, and I hope that you get your own ass kicked one day very soon. <br /><br />So here's the deal. This asshole is apparently some kind of pop singer. I don't listen to pop music, so his potential in that category is meaningless to me. He's the boyfriend of Rihanna, little pop starlet who doesn't know how many syllables are in the word umbrella. Three by the way, Rihanna, three. But I don't have a problem with her here. Well, I do, but I'll get to her in a minute. <br /><br />There was a report a while back putting Chris Brown involved with an assault, and the rumors were that it involved his girlfriend, Rihanna. Well, the rumor mill was full of truth it would seem, and Chris "Super Pussy" Brown did indeed assault Rihanna. While they were in a car. Because she didn't like a text message he got. While they were in the car. Apparently he punched her in the face several times, and bit her as she tried to fight back. She even feigned a call for help and he then told her that she made a "big mistake," and choked her at one point. Chris Brown, you are quite the tough guy. It makes me boil when I hear this now, and all I can think of is back when the story first came out and it was rumor. People were like, "so what if he did it, he sings great," and blah fucking blah. Why does anyone even consider giving a guy like this a pass? You're willing to accept the fact that he would beat up a woman because you like the way he sings??!!! I cannot believe anyone would support this scum bag and buy his records. Anyone defending him and citing his voice as a reason is just perpetuating the problem, and does nothing but tell this shit head, and any other pussy who hits women, that it's ok. <br /><br />Now Rihanna, my sympathy goes out to you, but you are not much better in this scenario. Apparently you took him back! What the fuck is wrong with you?!?! All you've done now, is tell your tweeny bopping fans that it's cool to have a boyfriend who hits you. He will apologize to your liking when you face him with the possibility of jail, and the fairy tale "love" will go on. Fuck you, Rihanna. There's a huge problem with the way relationships are presented to the youth of this country. This will be old news in about 3 months, Asshole Brown will release an album of sappy love, and Rihanna will release an album saying how tough of a woman she is. Rihanna, to you I just hope you realize that taking him back is wrong, and you dump his ass faster than he can imagine. Then release an album about how strong you are. You might do an inkling of good that way. Chris Brown, you can just go fuck off. I hope some people sharpen their brains and never buy another thing you put out, and that when you fuck up and do something like this again, you do a very long stint of time. There's a seat in Hell for you, asshole.ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-82127263023513362042009-03-08T16:29:00.005-04:002009-03-08T18:08:28.511-04:00Are Titles Really Important?There was a heightened sense of vulnerability in the ship today, and I didn’t want to get caught with my pants down, as it were. Five minutes ago, I heard the alarm go screaming, followed by the Captain’s less than calm warning.<br /><br />*crackle* “Ah, this is your captain speaking….you may have noticed that the ship is currently…oh shit…I mean, um…*ahem* there’s nothing to- oh shit, they’re coming aboard!” *crackle*<br /> <br /> I knew what to do. I extracted the shiny metal weapon given to us before we departed. It was a small pistol looking thing, and I technically had never fired it. I had run the simulator several times, and by simulator, I of course mean playing Goldeneye 007 on my Nintendo for the last ten years. I had beaten everyone I know at that game and I was more than certain that if I ever came across a situation where I needed to shoot my way out, I would be ready. <br /> Now as I said, I didn’t want to get caught with my pants down. So before anyone could catch sight of me, I pulled them up. I then slowly opened the bathroom door. No one seemed to make much notice of it, so I took that to mean that no one had actually boarded the ship yet. I crept closer to the door, and glimpsed my reflection in the mirror. I remember thinking, “Damn, I look good….” Wait…was that a zit on my nose? <br /> “Son of a…” I remarked to myself as I started to lean towards the mirror for a closer examination. I was just about ready to clear the blemish when I heard a very loud crash and smash combination sound. I was jolted back to the task at hand and with my weapon pointed out I jumped out of the bathroom like a rabid animal, and began shouting obscenities in every language I knew. As I go over the security record of the incident, which includes a grainy yet detailed image as well as an audio file, it seemed the only language I knew was English. <br /> After I had finished with my intimidating and swear filled battle cry, I pointed my gun directly at what appeared to be one of the invaders. Our new company didn’t seem to be organic. I only saw metal. I yelled, “Stop right there robotic fiend!” and kept my gun trained on my adversary. He didn’t move. I clearly had the upper hand at this point, and figured I would try to get a little information out of it. <br /> “Who are you?!?!” I yelled madly. No response. “God damn it I said, who the hell are you?!?!” Again, silence from the invader. <br /> “Don’t wanna talk huh? I don’t blame you really. I’m not sure I’d have a lot to say either in your position. I would consider bargaining for my life, however, seeing as how I’m the one with the gun here." From my vantage point, I could see no visible weapons. I was smarter than that though. I’ve seen plenty of robots and know for an immediate fact that they can conceal anything in their millions of empty and hidden compartments. There was no way I was going to underestimate my foe. I stood my ground amidst the uncomfortable silence, and after a few minutes I barked once more at the invader.<br /> “You’d better tell me EXACTLY who you are, WHY you’re here, and if we have time and I don’t end up having to kill you, I’d like to know a little about your civili-“<br /> “CHRIS!!! What the hell are you doing?!” yelled our Captain. At me, no less.<br /> “You know what I’m doing…and don’t distract me damn it! I don’t want to be blindsided…” I answered.<br /> The Captain sighed and said, “You’re holding the dinner cart at gun point. And that’s not a gun,” he said. “That’s a toilet paper roll.”<br /> “You said we were being boarded!” I stammered. “Have they gotten to you already? Is this a trick?!” I asked and flailed what I still thought was my weapon in the Captain’s direction now. I wasn’t going to be taken alive. <br /> “No...no trick…look, we don’t have a lot of time so you’re going to have to trust me. The ship fuel is still in your system and it seems to be really fucking you up, man. We are about to be boarded, it hasn’t happened yet, and we were on our way to the escape pod. Ok?” said the Captain as though he was talking a mental patient down from the roof. He grabbed my arm and I instinctively followed him and the rest of the crew down towards the escape pod. “If we can get to it in time, we can jettison the ship and probably land on the small moon below. “ <br /> We might as well get this part out of the way right now. Yes, I ate the ship fuel, and no I didn’t know it was ship fuel. I thought it was something else. I’m pretty sure I ate it three or four days ago, and it hits me about every four or five hours. Why am I not dead after eating the fuel designed for a starship to travel at light speed across the galaxy? Ship’s doctor couldn’t understand it either. He was already in the escape pod and was waiting for me. He handed me a small pill and a glass of water and said, “I cannot believe you ate the fucking fuel you stupid shit head. We’re gonna run out of these pills you know.”<br />------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />Well, that's about all I can sit through for now. I don’t have any dates on these, so I don’t know what order they’re going to follow. Looks like I’m no closer to finding out the whole truth, or anywhere close to finding out about my toothy ash tray here. I don't even know if I want to know the truth anymore...it stands to reason that as long I'm here now, I shouldn't care about what happened while I was gone. Yeah, I think I might just let these things sit for a while. I'll pull one out every now and then, but I'm just glad I'm home. Oh, and by the way....just keep one thing in mind. There is no such thing as Blue Hash. If you ever think you've found any? For God's sake leave it alone.ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-91659042802693873272009-03-06T10:03:00.002-05:002009-03-06T10:19:38.642-05:00Still breathing, still alive.Well, I have finally returned from my Interplanetary African Safari. Oh, I didn't tell you about that? It was fantastic. 3 Months, eight days and twenty nights on the most endearing and difficult trip of my life. Hop-scotching our way over the vast, expansive African lunar surfaces, we discovered and subsequently killed many types of life forms. I remember the first day, and how I had accidentally ingested part of the starship fuel, thinking it was blue hash. Unfortunately, that's all I remember. I've reviewed many of the security and personal recordings, and over the next few entries I will try and piece together what exactly the Hell went on. I can only be certain of 2 things...the trip began, and apparently the trip ended. Join me as I regain my Earthly bearings, search for journalistic integrity, and find out what this weird skull is that I keep ashing my cigar into....so many teeth.....anyway, be here, be there, it's all relative. I'll be right where I need to be.ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-47451041040799565322008-12-30T09:28:00.006-05:002008-12-31T15:46:26.392-05:00Faceban of the Feeding BreastI clicked on the ever informative Google News on my less than necessary Blackberry this morning, and I was a little bit surprised to read one of the headline stories in the Tech section. <br /><br />Aparently, Facebook, the mind numbingly addictive older brother site to MySpace, has decided to rip apart some folks' photo albums, take certain photos, and burn them in a digital fireplace. The photos in question are of Mothers nurishing their children in the most natural way, breast feeding. <br /><br />Let me just go on record and say that I love breasts. That aside, I really don't want to see a woman breast feeding a baby. I assume that my stance will shift into neutral when I have kids and see my wife taking care of dinner, so to speak, but that doesn't mean that I will have opened the Breast Flood Gates and will want to see other women doing it. Does <em></em>anyone<em></em> want to see that?!?<br /><br />What Facebook has done, is deleted many different pictures that were posted on pages of women breast feeding their babies. These women have amassed in anger and have begun a gathering of women on Facebook who staunchly oppose Facebook's seemingly backwards decision. Facebook claims that the only ones deleted were pictures where too much boob was shown, violating their sexuality and indecency policy. Too much boob is defined by standards as basically showing nips. Ok, I get that. This is Facebook not porn. Facebook spokesman Whatshisname Whogivesashit, (that might be spelled wrong...) says that they are making any and all efforts to keep Facebook safe and secure for all users, including children. On the surface, that sounds all well and good. It does. But as you might expect, I have a few problems with all of this strange nonsense, and even if I don't want to see these pics, (and keep in mind, I DON'T HAVE TO CLICK ON THEM) I actually side with the Women. <br /><br />Facebook claims that the only pics deleted, like I said, were the ones that violated their policy, and (get this) were "brought to our attention by other users who complain." <br /><br />WHAT?!?!<br /><br />So let me get this straight...some Screw Head logs onto Facebook and finds that a "friend" of theirs has posted some new pictures. Ok, they're posted for a reason, let's click and take a look. Ok, someone got a sweater for Christmas, that's nice...oh, look a new puppy! That's cute....family at the table for dinner, blah...wait a minute....what the hell is that? *apalling gasp* HOLY GOD IN HELL IS THAT SANDY BREAST FEEDING THE BABY?!?!?!?! Email Facebook immediately. This is bullshit and indecent!<br /><br />Ah, the Holidays. Reminds me of "Seinfeld" when Elaine had an unfortunate wardrobe malfuntion on her Christmas Card before the term "wardrobe malfunction" was even coined. But my point is this; who are these mutants who are complaining about these pictures? I just don't understand. You willingly clicked on someone's Album. You willingly looked at the thumbnail of the "offensive" picture, and willingly stared at it long enough to decide you were offended by it. Again, I get the whole breast feeding in public thing. I think it's wrong. I shouldn't have to turn around in the mall and see some woman with an inflated balloon, and a leach on the end of it. That's not what I came to the mall for. But, that picture of breast feeding wasn't piped into your computer against your will. You didn't turn on your monitor and have to see the picture. This is the key difference. As Neo so prophetically put it, "The problem is Choice." People who bitch about the pictures in the first place, have no leg to stand on because they chose to look at the picture. Plain and simple. <br /><br />Now, I said I sided with the Women here and I do. One woman was quoted in the article as stating that (I won't quote her here because her English was so bad I could hardly read it...) they should take down genuinely near-porn, like pictures of chicks' thong covered asses, or some quiz application like "What Kama Sutra Position Are You?" This makes sense. Not necessarily the pictures, because again, you chose to look at that, but the quiz applications, or any other ad that pops up, you have no control over. Kids don't need to see that quiz, and they don't need to take it. <br /><br />I do realize that me complaining about people who are complaining, and then complaining about something myself solves nothing and probably just adds high grade fuel to an already out of control fire, like censorship, but I had to. <br /><br />I'll recap; Breast feeding in public, and pictures of breast feeding- don't wanna see em. Now, narrow it; pictures of breast feeding that someone else took and put in an album that I have to willingly click on and then enlarge to actually see- don't wanna see em. So I won't. No censorship or deletion necessary.<br /><br /><br />ADDENDUM-<br />I have since infiltrated the "Hey, Facebook, Breastfeeding is not obscene!" group so that I could show my support for the Women to keep their pictures up, free of the fear of deletion. In doing so, I have actually learned a few things about the breast feeding process. Sort of. I didn't get a how-to-guide or anything. What I learned was just how damn passionate the Moms are about their protected right (in some states. A lot of them actually.) to be able to breast feed in public when needed and not have it be considered obscene, indecent, lewd, or whatever. Earlier in the blog, I stated that public breast feeding was wrong. I'm not sure how I meant that when I wrote it, since I mainly wrote it to set up the humor, but I can say that it is absolutely not wrong. The women are doing nothing wrong. I still don't want to see it, but I don't have to.ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-27253058589448621442008-12-26T12:03:00.004-05:002008-12-26T13:44:44.675-05:00Bring Me 2009.Christmas 2008 has come and gone. 2009 lies in wait. One week still remains of the historic 2008, and now is the time when all the cliche "year in review" items surface. Sports writers reflect on the year in sports, political writers look back on the last year of weirdness in modern Democracy, and secretaries wax poetic in the company's final Newsletter of the year, commenting on how many barely edible cakes were issued for office parties and birthdays. <br />This time of year also brings out those whimsical songs of the season. Radio stations that began playing Christmas music on Halloween, finally bust that nut as the apex of their musical scam approaches, and they prepare to return to regular programming. <br />Personally, I'd say I had a pretty good year. I was able to elude the sadness of Death, unlike last year when both of my Father's parents passed away. My cousin Bill got engaged, my future brother-in-law also got engaged. I've been engaged myself for exactly a year now. My fiance, Janelle, and I continued to grow closer as we got one more year closer to officially intertwining our Lives. <br />I remember I got an unexpected salary raise at some point in the early spring this year as well. It was the first time I received a raise for seemingly no reason. I was told, it was more or less a cost of living upgrade. Now, that's pretty damn good. The cost of living certainly was on the rise. Gas was approaching loan paperwork status, and my favorite beer climbed closer and closer to too damn much. Thankfully, both seem to have come back down to a reasonable sum, as gas is actually at its lowest price in nearly four and a half years. <br />We finally upgraded Janelle's transportation as well. Upgrade, in a sense, just meant that we got her a new used car. Her other vehicle was on less than a last leg, and rebuilding and repair just seemed to make less and less sense. Janelle also finally got her first classroom, teaching first grade to the little ones in Dayton. I was extremely happy when she got the call, since being a teacher is something she has been so passionate about for as long as I've known her. She spent untold thousands of American dollars on her education, and hadn't been able to use it for the last four years. She was beginning to reject the idea of teaching all together since she couldn't land a classroom, and her quiet stress was building. I never would have let her quit trying, because Teaching is her dream. Now, she's living her dream, and I couldn't be happier for her. <br />My cat got another year older, and another year more senile. She's the runt of her litter but you'd never know it. Sure, she's a size or two smaller than most female cats nine years of age, but she still has the fight of a kitten. I say she gets more senile because I like to give her a hard time. A good friend of mine once said that he believes animals understand every word we say to them. They just choose to remain silent. I couldn't agree more. Sure, sometimes you can look Kitty right in the face, tell her she's a greedy, ungrateful, loudly shrieking menace, and what does she do? She turns away and licks her ass. Did she hear me? She has ears, of course she heard me. Then other times, you can look right at her, and say she's a good kitty, and she'll start the purring engine and try to ram your approaching petting hand with her head. She responds in the only way a stubborn cat can at any given moment, and I find it fascinating every time. <br />All kinds of things, weird or otherwise happened to me, and probably to you too over the last 365 days. There were so many things in the world to talk about, but I really can't bring myself to do that. I will say that our Country succeeded despite pure economic meltdown, and the fervor of yet another war, in bringing about a new Wave. Barack Obama got my vote, and he will be President next month. I truly look forward to seeing what happens in this World now that he will be President. It's one of the most impressive and vital things our Great Nation has managed to pull off in its young career as a Nation. I only hope that traditional, and polished politics don't interfere. <br />I think that if you can look back on your year and find one thing that can keep you smiling, then that is good enough. I've had plenty of years where I couldn't do that. Here, I've listed a few and quite seriously I'm sure I could come up with more. I've had a good year, and I look forward to so many more. I'm not usually one for resolutions. The only one I have ever really made and took seriously was quitting smoking cigarettes, and here I sit cig free since 2004. I probably won't make any resolutions for 2009, since I don't think I need a drastic change in my life. I might resolve to spend a little less money where I don't need to, but that's about it. I'm happy NOW. And I intend to stay that way. Happy New Year.ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-58264798648431028712008-11-25T12:44:00.008-05:002008-11-25T14:12:36.848-05:00Why?Wil just wrote a nice Blog about how he will be spending Thanksgiving this year. That's how it ended, anyway. It started with a Spiritual experience he had while listening to some Christmas music. I'm not going to write a review of his Blog because that's just weird. www.wherethereswil.blogspot.com Go to that link and you can read it for yourself, and you can read the discussion he and I had through his comments section about the Spiritual aspect of the blog. I tried to make the link, you know, a link, but it didn't work.<br /><br />Wil sort of posed the question about whether or not one believes in Jesus. No, it wasn't that cut and dry, and if you read his blog first (PS, that's why I gave you the link.) then you'd know that. From any and all I've had the pleasure of learning about Jesus Christ, the most exciting and engaging aspect of his life to me, is that he actually lived his life. Many of the figures in the Bible actually existed, not to mention many of the events described, but to me it is fascinating taking the historical fact that Jesus lived among us, and just starting from there. Jesus lived, believe it. Wil was more than likely speaking about believing in what Jesus taught and philosophised, but when I started the comments discussion, I said the question should be, "Do you believe in God?" That's because I was only thinking from an existence stand point. We can prove a man named Jesus Christ existed, but we can't (from a tangible standpoint) prove that God exists. <br /><br />Which in turn leads to "Do you have to prove that?" No. No you don't. I do believe in God. I do not believe however, that the Universe and everything within, exist because of and for said God. That's just me. I'm not blogging here with the intent to Preach, or to join others for some cause, I'm just speaking my belief. It's my blog, right? <br /><br />I've attended Catholic church services many times in my life. That's how I was raised. I went to Sunday School for quite some time. But I never found solace in it. I never felt I needed to go, I never felt I wanted to go, I never even felt like being there once I got there. Then, my parents let me stop going (perhaps being forced to go makes an impression, but I'll save that for later.) and our family as a whole stopped going to church, even on the "Church Holidays" of Christmas, and Easter. Then as I grew older, I never even gave going to service a first, second, or third thought. I did however, begin to educate myself about the world around me. I started to learn about different religions, and how others of different religions either get along, or they don't. From all that I learned, I came to one conclusion. I know that I do not exist here to serve a God, and I do not exist here because of a God. Those are pretty bold statements, I know, but if nothing else, I am a realist. I exist here because of simple biology. Some say that's not true, some say to think a little less literally, and some agree. <br /><br />To those that say I am only here because God wanted me here, I can't help but just grit my teeth, smile and say thank you. What I'm thinking however, is quite different. Are you serious? Are you kidding me? Are you kidding yourself? Do you seriously just live everyday with the blind faith that everything is here because God said so? And I don't even want the questions answered. I don't because even though I am a realist like I said before, I understand what that person means. I wonder if they do, but I'd like to think my mind, my soul, and my being are open enough to not begin an argument and try to translate their message to something useful for me. Now, I know those people aren't crazy, and if they had kids they know very well how a person enters this world. What I find a little off putting is that even after experiencing Nature at its finest, they have the audacity to state that You are You because of God, or that God made You just the way You are. <br /><br />I've prayed before. And not just the "everybody let's pray" deal in Church either. I mean that I have found myself in a situation or two where I have had to just stop myself, look around, and ask Why? I've been down, and I've felt defeated to the point where I didn't think I could get back up and face the next challenge without assistance. I believe in God, and I believe communication is necessary and plausible, but I also believe that you can get so much more out of it when you feel it. I can't imagine everyone feels a connection that is forced. I don't think it's necessary to just pray everyday, or every Sunday just pray with others in a place of worship. I believe that Faith can serve you best when you feel that connection. Everyone is going to be different. I'm more than certain that most church goers will tell you that they go to church in order to feel that connection. To me though, that's still forcing it. <br /><br />I'm marrying my beautiful fiance, Janelle, sometime in the next year. Marriage, traditionally, is a very Religious event. In Catholicism it is what's called a sacrament. My Love wants to get married in a Church, and so do I. Her family is Catholic, and attends church regularly. They are very happy people, and I believe their happiness stems from their Faith. Naturally, they would love to see their daughter married in a Catholic church. I don't have a problem there either, because technically I am also a Catholic. The one thing I'm having a hard time with is the service. We recently went to a Catholic wedding, and the one thing that kept nagging at me was what the Priest was saying. He was saying that as husband and wife, the couple embraces the fact that their marriage is a symbol of their commitment to God, and that every time they say "I love you" it means they are saying it to God as well. That's not me at all, and at the risk of speaking out of turn, that's not Janelle either. I am not marrying her because of a commitment to God, I have a commitment to Janelle and our beautiful life ahead. And when I say "I love you," it is because I love HER, not God. I don't know...maybe I'm being too paranoid about it being to literal. I don't want to just have a ceremony like that and not believe it. I don't think that's fair to those who do. This blog wasn't supposed to be about getting married, but it went there as I was going, so there it is. <br /><br />Why are We here? I don't know. I can tell you what I think. We are here to live and to love. And that's what I'm gonna do. God, if you're carousing the interwebz and come across my blog, thanks for reading. And thanks for the help I've sought. I know I'll ask for it again.ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-7516100048430732322008-11-04T15:22:00.003-05:002008-11-04T18:35:34.441-05:00I Voted Today!"I Voted Today!" exclaims my little round sticker affixed snugly to my black, work polo shirt. Indeed I did vote today. I must say I was pleasantly surprised with how damn quickly I was able to register and cast my ballot. <br /><br />I had been voting for years in Buxton, the town I grew up in. I was all set to do that this year as well until I spoke to a friend I work with who made it a point to say he was bringing several forms of proof of residency just in case something went screwy. That got me thinking...I was planning on driving out to Buxton Town Hall after I got out of work in South Portland at 5pm. But as Andrew was telling about his precautions in order to avoid disaster, I got to thinking about how my license says I live in Saco. I hadn't needed to get a new license since the first one I was issued, so it had always said Buxton until I had to get a new one this year due to expiration. Yes, I know you're supposed to get one within 30 days after moving to a new address, but fuck it. I never did, and it never mattered. I even had a few run-ins with the fuzz, and they didn't care. So I decided to leave work at 1:00 so I could make sure I was able to register at Saco City Hall and then go to my polling place to cast my votes. Just yesterday my fiance Janelle had registered here in Saco, and she told me she had to wait nearly an hour while one Blue Hair well within the discounted coffee age sorted through and assisted several people in registering to vote. The way I figured it, since I was literally at the last minute, then maybe I would have to wait at least that long. And then who knows how long I would have to wait to actually cast my vote in this Historic Election?<br /><br />Well I didn't. Nope. It took me 20 minutes to drive to Saco from South Portland, and it took me less than that to not only register, but also travel to my designated polling place and vote. I also could have registered right there at the school I was assigned to, and had I known that, I wouldn't have even left work when I did. Polls are open til 8 (you got less than 2 hours left at this point if you haven't voted.) and I get out at five, so I would have been able to swing it. <br /><br />I voted for Obama for President of the United States. If you would like to know why, then check out my past blog titled "Election 08: WTF?!?" Not to toot my own horn, but it's probably my favorite blog that I've written so far in my short Blogging Career. Anyway, voting for Obama/Biden was the easy part. There were also three referendum questions that Janelle and I had gone over last night so those were a cake walk as well. But let me tell you about the difficult part of my voting experience. Folks, I was unaware that Judge of Probate, Register of Probate, and County Treasurer were in dire need of my hot little vote.<br /><br />County Treasurer? Register and Judge of Probate? Really?! Why aren't these positions just filled? I don't understand why my input is needed when it comes to putting someone in charge of Probate. Seriously, I didn't even know we had to vote for that! It's bad enough when you have to vote for all the senate and state representatives on top of voting for Prez, but I'm supposed to know something about who is better suited for Judge of Probate? There was only one choice for Christ's sake! I hope she's good. She got my vote. Why don't they just have us vote for county mechanic also? I mean someone has to work on city vehicles, and I need to know that person has only my best interest as an American in mind when they're tightening lug nuts on a snow plow! And what about City Librarian? How can I be sure that my rights as a citizen of this Grand Country are being kept in favor by whoever is in charge of our city's literature distribution? These are the things to think about for the next election. I mean President is important, but if my vote is needed for County Treasurer, then I want it to be heard for Chief Street Sweeper as well. <br /><br />(Ok, I waited til the end before I chimed in on this one....wow....at least he voted for Obama...and we've talked about this, man....use pictures! People like pictures...)ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-54778463751650654042008-10-23T11:58:00.006-04:002008-10-23T15:20:32.689-04:00Snow<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5KqOW0HjKCOXfEZhD2qlPWFtDZdmCAUFkCENBuHEeP0hWw_VH2YVYMJsy_t6Ir62WQoQBr0h3JYNmakHOhnluzKiT0d9Vqa9In7mU_jhGPS494o9YxuT5asn5YIuhbXg-z2k4sy9myn1J/s1600-h/Snowflake_300h.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 273px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5KqOW0HjKCOXfEZhD2qlPWFtDZdmCAUFkCENBuHEeP0hWw_VH2YVYMJsy_t6Ir62WQoQBr0h3JYNmakHOhnluzKiT0d9Vqa9In7mU_jhGPS494o9YxuT5asn5YIuhbXg-z2k4sy9myn1J/s320/Snowflake_300h.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260395051453476738" /></a><br />Anyone who was thinking this post was going to be about the ill fated, 90's white rapper can just click away now. (Pretty sure no one thought that....) This is about pure, unadulterated near frozen water. (It's not frozen? Wouldn't it be rain then?) At least, I don't think it's "frozen" compared to hail. Who cares. The point is, I'm talking about Winter's Messenger, Jack Frost's dandruff; snow.<br /><br />Why talk about snow? Because I'm not ready for it. We haven't even had Halloween yet, and there was snow in the weather forecast the last two days. I'm fairly certain that parts of north and north western Maine actually had some hit the ground. This is preposterous!! I've even heard that in parts of the County (the what?) snow doesn't evacuate until sometime in June! Are you serious?!?! I would completely lose it if I had to endure more than what I already do for snow totals. Unfortunately, I actually think this year we will get MORE snow than last year, and we really did get a lot last year. (I think you should type 'year' 1 more time....)<br /><br />I do enjoy watching it snow, however. That's what keeps me torn. I find a certain calming effect in just watching the first few snowfalls. There's a distinct stillness all around, (yeah, everything's frozen!) and there is the undeniable scent of the oncoming snow. That novely wears off far too quickly once I realize that I cannot see my car anymore, and that I have to shovel a path to said car from my apartment building door. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbOYbF_eeCZi1g81_-3eeXa1S5G_lNA4T8AD3PZVf_F3vhyphenhyphen0lECS37UZjpu7u26SAvmzp__SD7GmfD-QbmH9DG7PlqC6WC1Yfl2jCwzJui3OfcYIHyP79y7WuELE6EKO-7EAI-KXZwzHcO/s1600-h/snow+in+portland.bmp"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbOYbF_eeCZi1g81_-3eeXa1S5G_lNA4T8AD3PZVf_F3vhyphenhyphen0lECS37UZjpu7u26SAvmzp__SD7GmfD-QbmH9DG7PlqC6WC1Yfl2jCwzJui3OfcYIHyP79y7WuELE6EKO-7EAI-KXZwzHcO/s320/snow+in+portland.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260406067482905554" /></a>It starts there. It progresses to the parking lot getting smaller and smaller as the massive banks of past precipitation pile up and cannot be pushed any further by the hungry plow. (Hungry plow?) Oh, and I didn't take that pic of the cars on the streets there. It is Congress St I think, so if anyone knows who took it, please give them their credit in the comments. Also tell them I didn't know it was theirs, I swear!<br /><br />Then, one must contend with the roadway, and the horrible visions of being unable to stop and driving right into the minivan in front of you. The incessant flashes of not slowing down enough around an icy curve and just heading straight when the road goes to the right. (That wasn't a sentence...it was good though...just not a sentence...) I think the first snowfall is generally the worst when it comes to driving. It's not because the roads are particularly dangerous, it's because it seems that everyone forgets how to drive in the snow. I'd be willing to bet that more Winter traffic accidents occur during the first real storm of the season. <br /><br />I was also never really big on Winter sports either. I have lived in Maine all of my 28 years, but I have not once been skiing. I went ice fishing a few times when I was a kid with my Dad, I think I went ice skating...once...I did however really like sledding and tubing down a hill. The Winter Olympics are completely lost on me as well. I just don't care. (I thought this was about snow, now he's gone onto Winter as a whole?) They say (who's they?) that Winter brings about fits of depression, and I understand why. It comes at the end of the year, so maybe you run your brain through all the things you never accomplished, yet said were at the very top of your list. Maybe you feel closed in by the thousands of inches of snow. (Is it wrong to get creeped out when you live on the second floor, look out the window and see the damn snowbank right there?!?!) Maybe you're just like me and get sick of the season before it even starts. If it were up to me, it would snow for the first time every Winter, on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. I don't want to see a damn snow flake until then. With my luck though, if I got that wish, it would then snow about three and a half feet every day after Christmas right up until April. <br /><br />The snow falls hard and don't you know, the winds of Thor are blowing cold. This Winter better not have a no quarter mentality, but if it does, I'll be ready. I'm purchasing a flame thrower this year. (Nice...'No Quarter' RULES!)ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-83997451027361725572008-10-14T10:58:00.010-04:002008-10-14T13:43:29.305-04:00Maine Discgolfers Dot ComWell, it had been ramping up all year, and the Maine Players Tour Championships were this past weekend. For any of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, (Pretty sure that's just about everybody...) the Maine Players Tour is a massive collection of Maine's best discgolfers (and dirtiest Sandbaggers...) who play Maine's best Courses in a knock down, drag out race for government issued, green spending paper.<br /><br />The season begins in April, and winds down for the Championships in mid October. There are usually 2-3 tournaments per month, and they give the Toll Booths something to look forward to as the courses range from North of Augusta all the way down to Saco, and many in between. Check out <strong>www.mainediscgolfers.com </strong>for all the courses, and you can carouse the site for other info like the results from past tourneys, and there is also a forum where most of the MPT faithful click and clack about whatever is on their disc shaped minds. <br /><br />I discovered the MPT last year while playing at my Home Course in Saco, Boom Field.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwWIgrMw-PleyRbgTwQA4YTeZS2z0a6SUfdygsXMiuZy1RJXHWKj3ncgKbvrLI234T11L9tM4rRWk2VmviPoT5LKiRep3DBSESh0v_Ipj8zaYi1KYPuHAcT4Q42N1YgMRv8hKkNSxXB1IH/s1600-h/Play+til+dusk+doom+logo+copy.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwWIgrMw-PleyRbgTwQA4YTeZS2z0a6SUfdygsXMiuZy1RJXHWKj3ncgKbvrLI234T11L9tM4rRWk2VmviPoT5LKiRep3DBSESh0v_Ipj8zaYi1KYPuHAcT4Q42N1YgMRv8hKkNSxXB1IH/s320/Play+til+dusk+doom+logo+copy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257042309787340210" /></a> I made the flyer pictured here and totally ripped off the Doom logo to do it. (What a <em>nerd</em>.) Boom is one of several courses to participate in the MPT and hosts two events (they can't just call them tournaments?) yearly, one in the Summer and one in the Fall. These are events too, don't marginalize anything. Each tourney, no matter the course, is a full day consisting of 36 holes of discgolf, lunch, and Spirits being raised consistently and constantly! Some Events go the extra mile (do you need a whole mile to go 'extra'?) and bring in entertainment. And since some of these Events are long hauls for some people, most Courses will encourage camping for the weekend. <br /><br />The way it works is that points are earned for each tournament (I thought you said they were events?) you play in. The better you do, the more points you garner leading to a grand total of points at the end of the season. The points system is for two reasons, the top 4 points earners for the season are guaranteed a spot in the Skins tournament (that have something to do with porn? No? Not even a giggle?) and one must earn a certain number of points to qualify to play in the Championships at the end of the year. It's not that difficult to qualify, in that you really only need to play in roughly 2 Events to earn enough points. I played in 2 last year to qualify, and I played in 3 this year. (Wait, I thought you said it was the <em>best </em>discgolfers?) There are SO many more events that I wish I could have played in, but I just really didn't have the means to get to all the different Events every weekend. (No excuse buddy.) I know that's not really a good excuse, but it's the reason, so deal with it! (Wow...that came out of nowhere....) <br /><br />This year, The Finals were held at The DiscFarm in Gorham. That place is AWESOME. Elevation changes, woodsy (that can't be a word) holes, open field holes, and it's extremely well maintained. I played an Event there in June where a beautiful weather first round gave way to the worst weather for just being outside I have ever...well...been outside in! (way to craft the sentence...) An enormous thunder storm hit and sheets of cold rain fell for what seemed like hours. Naturally, it stopped near the end of the day, but dodging lighting bolts in an open field near metal baskets is something I'm ALL SET with! For the Finals, the weather could not have been better. The finals is a 4 round, 2 day event so getting two (numbers or words...make up your damn mind!!) days of solid weather was a gift. Here's a picture that was taken of all who participated.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwqB3zinWHRBxlCe91bUFFZRxKrD5O_s7FWW39AvuocPlQnMFPfVmAiherJCQx7u6et41T-Alk_eT_OGmMmlYjGkxwvD4cqO9cewhj14EFwsI8Et_sq9L7xpbk4ZKcWVyVlo0ykCtqf5FL/s1600-h/MPTChampionshipsOctober2008006.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwqB3zinWHRBxlCe91bUFFZRxKrD5O_s7FWW39AvuocPlQnMFPfVmAiherJCQx7u6et41T-Alk_eT_OGmMmlYjGkxwvD4cqO9cewhj14EFwsI8Et_sq9L7xpbk4ZKcWVyVlo0ykCtqf5FL/s320/MPTChampionshipsOctober2008006.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257054084471239714" /></a><br /><br />My first round was ok. A shaky start put me somewhere near the middle to bottom of the pack entering my second round. (Are you kidding? 18 holes and you describe the whole thing in 2 sentences?!) I did a little better my second round, playing a different course layout than the first round. I had to try and make it home to my fiance because we had plans for the evening, so I wasn't able to stay for some of the other stuff that made up the weekend. There was a putting competition (you would have lost anyway, sport) and longest drive competition. The whole MPT is set up divisionally and so was the longest drive competition. I also missed the extra curricular activities consisting of Poker, beer pong, and potti. (Don't ask him what potti is...he doesn't know....) Potti is kind of like horseshoes I believe. The mighty dollar rules all and of course, all games are played for it!<br /><br />The Next Day turned out to be a terrible vision of Hell for me, as 2 holes into the third round I injured my arm and had to pack it in. (WHAT?!?!?!) I throw a lot of what is called a thumber, where I'm actually holding the disc kind of like a baseball, with the top, or flat part, facing away from me. The problem with me doing that, is that like any pitcher or outfielder, it requires daily stretching, and a good warm up period before I put my whole strength into it. Otherwise, I will do exactly what I did on Sunday morning and feel like passing out from the pain for like a half an hour. I've done it before and I should NOT have done it again. (So let me get this straight...you quit?) I didn't quit, I technically Did Not Finish. (splitting hairs...) If I didn't stop, I probably would have done more serious damage to my arm/shoulder, so it was really the only thing I could do if I want to try and come close to competing next year. And I do. And I will. <br /><br />So I did have a great time at the MPT Championships in Gorham this year. Despite my finish, I was able to watch some great golf as Ben Dunlap, better known as BennyD, set a new course record and won the Pro division. Way to go BennyD!!!! I caddied my buddy Damien for his last round as he went on to finish in a tie for 6th place in our division and take home some cash for his efforts. Next year I hope to play more tournaments (you said that last year...) and be able to finish the Championships in a position to put a little of that foldin' money in <em>my</em> wallet.ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-80582526897069341052008-09-26T10:33:00.008-04:002008-09-26T13:08:32.953-04:00Television, you magnificent bastard.Well, you may or may not remember my post about the American version of Kitchen Nightmares which then turned into a rant about the glaring differences not only in the shows, but in the general audiences as well. (I don't remember, and I'm too lazy to read the blog in question, but I'll play along...) Last night was a good night for American television, at least on the channels I watched, and I just wanted to recognize it. <br /><br />The Office was on, back for its latest season. I didn't watch the whole thing because I was flipping between that, the Red Sox game (Tampa Bay is going DOWN baby!) and FOX's Kitchen Nightmares. I'll start with Kitchen because it was a total 180 from just about all previous episodes. Didn't see the beginning, but it seemed like it was <em>not </em> a family owned business for once. A good start. <br /><br />Back to the Sox game- Jon Lester is in the midst of a no hitter into the 5th inning (Yeah, thanks for <em>that </em> jinxing phone call Dame!!) looking sharp! Jon Lester is actually a blog topic for another day, him being a cancer survivor, dominant Southpaw, World Series Champion, owner of a No Hitter, (only 1?) etc, etc...Over to the Office..<br /><br />I don't know why Michael Scott was wearing a goatee at times, I don't know why there was a contest to lose weight, and I don't know why they let coke addicted Ryan back into the fold, but it didn't matter it was still funny as Hell! I hate the character of Andy, but I felt bad for him. His fiance Angela (don't ask) pages her former lover, the ever hilarious Dwight, right in front of him so that she and Dwight can go have strange, adultrous, monkey sex in the warehouse. (Monkey sex?!?....oh yeah...Dwight calls her Monkey...) Back to Kitchen Nightmares...<br /><br />Gordon is having a tough time dealing with one of three unnecessary manangers in a place called the Black Pearl in New York City. (Oh please don't go on about the city again....) Despite the fact that I loathe that disgusting, (damnit....) scum infested, filth ridden, Location filled with self absorbed, mindless insults to the rest of American people, (wow...) I watch anyway. Can't really get around it, since every episode since season one has involved a restaurant in or around the Pit. (Isn't this season 2?) Anyway, the manager scum Gordon was dealing with this week had the balls to sell "authentic Maine Lobster Rolls." (What's wrong with that?) The problem there is that Gordon took one look at the stash of Lobsters in the back and correctly pronounced them Canadian Lobsters. When questioned about the authenticity of his "Maine Lobsters" the Jackass manager simply said, "North American waters...same thing." Gordon apallingly asks again whether or not Canadian is the same as Maine to this Screwhead, and the guy says, "Are they not the same animal?" This guy isn't just asking this question, he's responding in the most condescending, asshole way anyone could possibly position themselves. Gordon eventually gives up and moves on. So do I...back to the Sox<br /><br />My buddy Damien had called me while Lester was in the midst of his outing last night in the 5th inning to make me aware of the fact that he was pitching a no hitter. (Didn't I already mention that?) That's a Cardinal sin!! You don't mention anything about a no hitter until after it's happened!!! Dame and I are Hardcore Sox fans, and were just talking earlier over beers about how Goddamn closely we followed the 03 and 04 seasons while we were roommates at the time. I kept a big schedule on the wall each year, and recorded wins and losses with Ws and Ls, tallying up monthy records, and even charting other cool stuff happening around the league, like Randy Johnson throwing a Perfect Game in 04, multiple game hit streaks, and David Ortiz singing a contract extension. (Nerds...) When I flipped back to last night's game, I saw that the score was now 6-1, implying that not only was the no hitter gone, but so was the shut out. Oh well. Lester already pitched a no hitter earlier this year, and the reality of him pitching a second one was going to be very difficult to realize. Still winning though, that's the important thing...back to the Office.<br /><br />(HOLD IT!! I can't take much more of this dizzying ride....) Well, that's how my tv watching went last night. Surprisingly, I was able to watch (mostly) 3 great bits of programming. What made things fun, was when Janelle, my beautiful fiance, came home from work around 9:45pm. By now, most everything I was watching was almost over. Her and I stayed on the 3 channel flip carousel until 10pm when everything but the game was over. We watched the end of the game, and then we flipped through until we found a sweet infomercial for Rock Ballads. We sang along with the samples and laughed out loud at the fact that between the two of us, we pretty much knew all the words to them all! A perfect end to a day. (Hey, you didn't use any pictures this time? And no songs to reference? You're losin it, dude.)ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-45169755608492970602008-09-15T09:51:00.010-04:002008-09-15T15:09:52.746-04:00Election '08: WTF?!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWhvAKxMnBiaaARh3msKXmVf6wAVc7EruzZPauDNDBw1ApU2roTrTbw5p0UW-omA8l9iO0mL8CQzYwrNid0AhLec6pmIiStICYP2lNNzXk1noloIkqMTbkuVj9Nt1SA3sTj3eWtMIv5_et/s1600-h/palin.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWhvAKxMnBiaaARh3msKXmVf6wAVc7EruzZPauDNDBw1ApU2roTrTbw5p0UW-omA8l9iO0mL8CQzYwrNid0AhLec6pmIiStICYP2lNNzXk1noloIkqMTbkuVj9Nt1SA3sTj3eWtMIv5_et/s320/palin.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246249353497507282" /></a><br /><br />I was kind of looking forward to this year's elections. We have them every year in November, but it's only once every four years that we get to clean (the White) house and shake things up a little bit. Sort of...<br /><br />Is it ever really any different though? Sure, there are differences of opinion on policies, be they foreign, domestic, or which side of the Oval Office the desk sits on. And let's not forget whether or not the First Pet will be a dog or a cat. For the last eight years, we have had Republican George W. Bush in office. Love him, hate him, or really, really hate him, at least we can say one thing about him. He was President. (Clever...) He was mistakenly sworn in for his first term in 2000 (technically '01...but nobody cares..) and had some seriously high ground to get to. (Did he say 'mistakenly sworn in?') I said he was "mistakenly sworn in" because unless you've lived under a rock (that's original) for the last eight years, you know that We the People actually gave our popular vote to the other guy. (The Global Warming guy, right?) Then, while elementary students were teaching W how to read, (Oh, nice...a shot at his intelligence...actually that was pretty good..) our Nation was unmercifully attacked. May all Souls taken during that horrible moment in American History rest in eternal Peace. (Except the terrorists of course. May their flesh continuously burn in the depths of Hell and Rotten Damnation.) In the face of the adversity from such a devastating event, our President rose up and tried to do our Country proud. <br /><br />Everything changed after that. Cliche as it sounds, it's true. We awarded W's efforts with another four years of sitting in the Captain's chair. I didn't. I voted, once again, for the other guy. (The Ketchup guy, right?) I never liked George W. Bush. It wasn't a donkeys and elephants thing (What?!?!) with me either. I can't stand the way he appears to the People. If there is one thing the President of The United States should do, it is instill confidence in the People of the Nation. There's no way in Raging Hell I have confidence in a Leader who cannot pronounce words, or form sentences correctly. I just don't. I know some people are not great Public Speakers, but if you're one of those people, DON'T RUN FOR FUCKING PUBLIC OFFICE!! Some have said that Mr. Bush has a high IQ, and that he truly is an intelligent man. (Bullshit.) He has shown no one any reason to believe that. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9YyUX_-tqDK_hzuHSMig0mNhTvB3S-FS31g8JBN6MN6SySoYr4eIHjF9nC1SJ_KyzmNYdSArCqHejavvmxTtrY-5GSbCKjfzE3FVKeoyAIphyCYfniaFaUFrcfEwfEt_kZ6Ac-k8BOC0N/s1600-h/george-w-bush.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9YyUX_-tqDK_hzuHSMig0mNhTvB3S-FS31g8JBN6MN6SySoYr4eIHjF9nC1SJ_KyzmNYdSArCqHejavvmxTtrY-5GSbCKjfzE3FVKeoyAIphyCYfniaFaUFrcfEwfEt_kZ6Ac-k8BOC0N/s200/george-w-bush.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246258214618386242" /></a><br /><br />His administration hasn't helped him any. Let's face it folks, if you think the Prez makes all the decisions in this Land of Freedom and Opportunity, then you are misguided. Since he sounds like a first class boob at the podium, it's easy to blame him specifically for something you don't like. That's why, in this year's Election (Holy Hell, he got back to the point!) it <em>is</em> a donkeys and elephants issue with me. <br /><br />For the Donkeys this time around, we have Barack Obama.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZA21-AWzwqe4_nXRDNCA38ZxhDnm-2VrCF_p7CQks_1eBAIdWKt_IPN9AeL2Gh28ePnYKIkRRtU6veeKt3oScv94O6MbTpmciaP4hQ195pVIi3K5ybA7wdHX6xqmMIQ4SrbBlGEcP63Sf/s1600-h/obama6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZA21-AWzwqe4_nXRDNCA38ZxhDnm-2VrCF_p7CQks_1eBAIdWKt_IPN9AeL2Gh28ePnYKIkRRtU6veeKt3oScv94O6MbTpmciaP4hQ195pVIi3K5ybA7wdHX6xqmMIQ4SrbBlGEcP63Sf/s200/obama6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246259799697828498" /></a><br />He is the first Black man (shouldn't he write African American?) to be in such contention for the highest seat in the Land. His platform message seems simple enough; Change. It seems to appeal to the masses who are disappointed in current Republican leadership, no matter the specifics. He seems to be a decent public speaker, and even when he's off script, like in an interview, he carries himself well enough to answer the questions efficiently and informatively. He also chose for his running mate, Joe Biden. He's and old white guy (shouldn't he type...wait..no that's right.) who appears to ground the Obama campaign in terms of political validity. (WTF does he mean by <em>that?!</em>) All I really mean there, is that the political system here has been predominantly white male for, oh I don't know, EVER. <br /><br />On the Elephant's side of the field, we find John McCain representing. The man was once a POW, and that alone garners him a lot of respect. I'm not voting for him, but I'll be Damned if I don't respect the man's efforts for Our Country. He has also been spouting off lately about how the country needs Change. He's doing all he can to catch up in the polls, those devilishly seductive devices that determine who's in more favor with the People. Change though? Wouldn't change actually be something different from what is currently available? Personally, I think he shoots himself square in the foot when he goes on about how the country needs change. Supporting your Party's decisions for eight years and then now turning tail and saying that Change is needed doesn't sit well with me. For his running mate, he chose (get ready for it...) Sarah Palin. (Wha?!?!?!) That's right folks, to quote one of the greatest philosophers of our time, "Oooh, it's a Lady!"<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg18oF1cxEiN3DzMIEQ9adOMmI7scl1y6MbtEJt39rVn7ae6okpOtAp1XevPnSL54JMzTnd75WfEvAc3eOoK4MzTUvj_Smpo9rMzznqBnPkjFmuZSZdLImmQ18Pu9itHtxYjcwBWuKm1Lmp/s1600-h/palin-intvu-080911.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg18oF1cxEiN3DzMIEQ9adOMmI7scl1y6MbtEJt39rVn7ae6okpOtAp1XevPnSL54JMzTnd75WfEvAc3eOoK4MzTUvj_Smpo9rMzznqBnPkjFmuZSZdLImmQ18Pu9itHtxYjcwBWuKm1Lmp/s200/palin-intvu-080911.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246269731542702338" /></a> Why the Hell would he choose her?!?! There really are only two reasons. Shock and Awe. You see, before the Governor from Alaska (Alaska? Ha!) was chosen, it seemed clear the Obama ticket would front run the election right til the end. Obama is the picture of change. If some don't like his ideas (Like a proposed 12% tax increase to the richest Americans...wait a minute..did I just offer genuine information? Whoa....) you can't deny that he would seem the polar opposite of our current Administration. What McCain has done is successfully balance the choices. Do we get extreme and vote in a Young African American (ah, maybe Black Man works too...) Male President with an Old White Man as VP, or do we get just as extreme and vote in an Old White Male President with a Young White Female as VP. <br /><br />Sarah Palin is not the best choice for VP when it comes down to anything beyond her looking good at podium point. (Great, now he's making up phrases...) Obama and Biden seem like they can both be functional pieces of our Capital Government. I'm sorry Sarah, but you do not seem to be anything more than dead weight for McCain. When asked about what sort of foreign policy experience she has, you know what she had the audacity to say? Seriously...she said that she could see Russia from her home. (AH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!) I can see Mars on a clear night from my driveway, so I guess I have Intergalactic Policy experience. Sweet. Now I'm not saying that she couldn't become a good politician, (isn't that really an oxymoron?) but right now she is not adding amount of credibility to McCain's Campaign. Many will throw up her laundry list of "experience" and to that I say, so what? Alaska runs itself. Over 60% of it is uninhabitable for God's sake! She hasn't reformed anything. She's taken her share of political bribes while running with a Candidate who wants to stop them. (Yeah, like that will <em>ever</em> happen...) A dear friend of mine has called Mrs. Palin the Antichrist. Seeing through her eyes, I totally get that. Seeing through my own, I'm not that harsh, but again, I understand the comparison made. Many people call her a MILF. (duh...what does that mean?) I say she looks more like a stripper. Seriously. When you see her march to a podium, all I can think of is her ripping off the suit coat to reveal nothing but stars and stripes pasties that shoot off red, white and blue fireworks (red and white from the top, blue from the daisy?). I don't want her to, but it looks like she just might every time!<br /><br />Well, there it is. Who do you vote for? Does it matter to you? Will you get sucked in by the parasitic media coverage, and just choose who is ahead of the polls come election day? Please don't. It's not possible for you to side completely with each candidate's views, so don't try. Those that say they do are jaded by the political process and have no way of thinking for themselves. Find a candidate who supports something that will be good for you. That's why you get a vote. Comments are welcome, but let's remember that this is a blog post, and is not intended to provide news in any way. I know what I know, and that's what I type. (At least he didn't type 'It is what it is.' GOD I hate that phrase!)ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-469818443556338702008-09-11T21:20:00.012-04:002008-09-12T11:05:53.504-04:00Television Nightmare<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5CJ206pr_5ispxHmrGA31pFZsVgrDJNb549a4ltaKtglKgqrc6afi7SmjdkRE17VLPpCCE3NKadrVfkRvNQo3dCzD035lZ1IYbmZ6PGp1te49XCnj475tqZZpK7P1iyHIS1BzYvYETjB3/s1600-h/200px-Gordon_Ramsay.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5CJ206pr_5ispxHmrGA31pFZsVgrDJNb549a4ltaKtglKgqrc6afi7SmjdkRE17VLPpCCE3NKadrVfkRvNQo3dCzD035lZ1IYbmZ6PGp1te49XCnj475tqZZpK7P1iyHIS1BzYvYETjB3/s320/200px-Gordon_Ramsay.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244939178314404882" /></a><br />Right now, not only is it your tomorrow, (You think they'll pick up on the Van Halen reference?) but I'm right in the middle of watching FOX's "Kitchen Nightmares." That is the problem. (Eh?)<br /><br />Time Warner Cable is gracious enough to give its subscribers the channel BBC America. There have been many shows taken from across the Pond (that's a stupid expression by the way.) and retooled for American television. Examples are "The Weakest Link", "The Office", "Whose Line Is It Anyway?", and most recently, "Kitchen Nightmares". BBC America lets us bloody Americans view some of these shows in their original form. It's not until you've seen both "versions" (what's the quotes for?) of a show that you begin to see glaring and embarrassing differences between the American and the British viewing audience. <br /><br />I really enjoy the British, and original version of "Gordon Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares". If you don't know, it's a show where World Renowned Chef, Gordon Ramsay, goes to restaurants where the business is slow (these places suck) and turns them around (hopefully) and shows the the proprietors the errors of their ways. He remodels the place if necessary, cleans the Hell out of most of them, and usually shows the kitchen staff some great dishes they should add to their menus. Sometimes he changes the menus completely. While watching the Original version, you get to witness most of the restaurant owners embrace the changes with some, but generally very little push back and ego flexing. Gordon has, we'll say a rather blunt method (he yells and swears a lot) of getting across his wealth of knowledge. Ramsay's desire and passion for success is something that transcends the kitchen. It's a good show. Dare I say, a reality show I like. (He really does hate reality tv. Excessively.) <br /><br />Enter the American Version. I can barely watch it. The only reason I make it to the end of it is because of Gordon. Sadly, however, his screen time is cut considerably from the original. No longer does he narrate, and for some reason they play Millionairesque (there's no way that's a word...) drama-happening music at every Goddamn turn!! (Oh now you got him going...) Drama!!! That seems to be all we care about as an audience. If there isn't some type of ridiculous friction between everyone on screen, then I guess Americans won't watch it. EVERY fucking episode, (whoa!) I'm not kidding has #1. A family owned business (drama when a family works together? Really?!?) #2. An owner or a manager that comes off as the dumbest fucking post ever to enter the business world, and #3. A tearful and obnoxiously predictable ending to the whole thing having everyone praise Holy God Ramsay and how He "saved my family! *sniff* " (Oh shit, I think he just puked...wash your hands before you start typing again, you fiend!) It just really disappoints me as an American when it seems a perfectly good, entertaining and watchable show gets so obviously dumbed down so it can "succeed" (oh, now I get the quotes thing...) on American networks. (Well, it is FOX, mind you.) <br /><br />Now, obviously this isn't the case with all shows, as The Office is wildly popular, and more importantly, damn funny. It also holds it's own quite well when compared to the British original. Now, I guess I could just stop watching the shows I keep bitching about, but....I don't know.....can I? Can I really blame anyone when It's Nobody's Fault But Mine? (Nice...didn't think he'd squeeze it in.)ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-89389776967044544972008-08-04T19:24:00.007-04:002008-08-04T21:38:06.135-04:00The Greatest Text Conversation of All Time.Sadly, great actor Morgan Freeman was involved in a car accident recently. I am trying desperately to upload a pic of the Man, but I keep getting rotten, internal errors. Anyway, my friend Andrew and I had a great text conversation sort of involving him. It really couldn't have been the Greatest Text Conversation of All Time without him and his fantastic influence. Ok, so here's the text. Really, try to read them all as though you <span style="font-style:italic;">were </span>Morgan Freeman. See the premise here is that his voice is parodied quite well by renowned mimic Mike O'Meara on the radio, and Andrew and I find the impression hilarious! Enjoy! Oh hold on, don't criticize for spelling errors. These are friggin cell phones, people. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">ME</span>: I'm rewatching Shield DVDs. Season 1 AWESOME. It just makes the rest of it so much better!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">ANDREW</span>: Did you here Morgan Freeman was in a car wreck? He's ok- the ambulance arrived just in TIME.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">ME</span>: Haha! Yeah I heard he is upgraded to serious condition. Andy Dufrain wept a single tear, his first tear in some TIME.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">ME </span><span style="font-weight:bold;">again</span>: He was driving a 97 Nissan. What the fuck was morgan Freeman doing driving a 97 Nissan?!?!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Andrew</span>: Wherever he was going, his Nissan would get him there just FINE.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">ME</span>: That's all ofcourse assuming he has had the proper amount on WINE.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Andrew</span>: Or a mojito with LIME?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">ME</span>: Perhaps a martini, a highball, or something that RHYMES?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Andrew</span>: Ha best text conversation ever<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">ME</span>: Best of all TIME.<br />____________________________<br /><br />He kinda threw me a softball right there at the end. I had to run with it. Plus he agreed with me on a later text that Shield Season 1 <span style="font-style:italic;">is </span> in fact the best season so, you know, whole thing resolved. Oh and for the Record, it IS NOT FUNNY that Mr. Freeman is in the hospital.ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-71217388545545867882008-08-03T13:41:00.008-04:002008-12-10T13:11:59.278-05:00Adios, Manny.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVmtUzxtKSj3yjIkzB7M2Ifg4eeSM2c1JAogWLCZHoTz8dMVAOdQ6IC4ynWrKEGXI8FlDCNOsDvOXgc5Z-VVqSzG0o4a7htDpqjMgdxDs_Ryw47jVEEMuUA1ayaFUxOI8RwezfCw2b3zBE/s1600-h/ph_424726.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVmtUzxtKSj3yjIkzB7M2Ifg4eeSM2c1JAogWLCZHoTz8dMVAOdQ6IC4ynWrKEGXI8FlDCNOsDvOXgc5Z-VVqSzG0o4a7htDpqjMgdxDs_Ryw47jVEEMuUA1ayaFUxOI8RwezfCw2b3zBE/s320/ph_424726.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230353631244172434" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF0aIXBqaidNeD4KDz2RlrUKXFGnLM-XQ3IXP5460vzFn8baLmoTVspdZGcwMElaLgVghP3d0A83cPNFNdlBJyq1ctWf6dAQRumEVamm0JL9Oo0X7LGhIwOcyVqtcpA2UQ3gHVVvPy9EA8/s1600-h/ph_120903.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF0aIXBqaidNeD4KDz2RlrUKXFGnLM-XQ3IXP5460vzFn8baLmoTVspdZGcwMElaLgVghP3d0A83cPNFNdlBJyq1ctWf6dAQRumEVamm0JL9Oo0X7LGhIwOcyVqtcpA2UQ3gHVVvPy9EA8/s320/ph_120903.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230348746044110802" /></a><br />Manny is gone, and all is well in Fenway Park. I mean it. The Red Sox are 2-0 since the trade, and the new meat to replace him, Jason Bay from Pittsburgh, is doing very well. Some bone head on ESPN had the audacity to rule out the Red Sox from even playoff contention without ManRam. You know who you are, Steve so there's no need to name names. I say we're in the best shape to repeat as World Champions as we've ever been. <br /><br />In recent years, it's been a strange up and down with the Sox. All kinds of people will tell you that is perfectly normal. Years of build up and let down into disappointment led us, the fans, into a strange state of acceptance. Until 2003. In 2003 we lost in the American League Championship Series and had to give up our ticket to the World Series. We lost it to the goddamn Yankees no less. That sort of stirred the mix a little. That Loss to that Team seemed like the final straw. That was it. We had turned Bruce Banner Green and there was no turning back. The Incredible Hulk surely is a green monster, but the Great Wall in Boston was there first. Our Boys came back to the Damn Yankees again in the League Championship the following year. In the same scenario. A trip the World Series on the line. Only as we all know, we friggin won. We beat New York and that was all that mattered. It didn't really matter what team we played in the World Series, because we beat the Yankees. Well, we played the St. Louis Cardinals in the Series, and we won that too. Guess who the World Series MVP was that year? Manny Friggin Ramirez. Thanks, man. I gotta say. <br /><br />BUT<br /><br />Manny deserved to go. He deserved to be driven out of Boston. He practically drove himself. I don't care what anyone says, and I could give a rat's ass about some of his statistics; he is a terrible outfielder. Many argue that he has amassed quite a lot of outfield assists over the years. Yes he has. Playing a tiny left field in Fenway Park. Every left fielder should league the league in assists there. In any other normal sized outfield, he is a liability. We've seen it as Red Sox fans glued to NESN on even some of the nicest nights. Then there are the most recent and most obvious reasons. Who in the Holy Hell do you think you are when you push an old man to the ground? You couldn't get free tickets to a baseball game, Manny? Piss off and fucking buy some! How many millions of hard earned green backs do you steal from fans every year? <br /><br />Now I don't know that much about Jason Bay. Only that this season he has very similar number to Manny. Manny is 36 years old, Bay is 30. The numbers aren't supposed to be similar. Bay is going to do a great job, I can feel that, but he is not Manny Ramirez. He is our new left fielder though, and he's already hit a home run and smacked a triple. He's doing just fine. Manny just put one out for LA last night also. We'll see exactly how injured he really is. That's right, Dodger fan. He tells Us he's hurt. Often. Did we forget to mention that? Good Luck!ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-21616592321870891762008-07-29T11:50:00.002-04:002008-12-10T13:11:59.507-05:00What if.....?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5jVhNduklBbKUjpVemfdhzhRKpDwLcEhHC_5D5uNLvZZalLb9g_eNSe-Jwp66pHBwBLOTpSCrKldqowP-ByQQ9PQgGS5_wNnhCNzZo2IO5jq0nNINyjXJozNbGfqBbvBz4hNfl42y01NP/s1600-h/amflag.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5jVhNduklBbKUjpVemfdhzhRKpDwLcEhHC_5D5uNLvZZalLb9g_eNSe-Jwp66pHBwBLOTpSCrKldqowP-ByQQ9PQgGS5_wNnhCNzZo2IO5jq0nNINyjXJozNbGfqBbvBz4hNfl42y01NP/s320/amflag.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228465674418183042" /></a><br />I received this in an email today and thought I'd share it with you all. I'm certain that some of you may have seen this before, or even contributed to it, but it made me chuckle and then genuinely ask myself, "What if this actually happened?" I also added that part about contributing to it because in the email, some of it was in different fonts and sizes, and the general direction of the piece changes a little bit from where it begins. Enjoy! (I bet you didn't forward it, did you?)<br /><br />_________________________________________________________________________________<br /><br />WOULDN'T IT BE GREAT TO TURN ON THE TV AND HEAR ANY U.S. PRESIDENT, DEMOCRAT OR REPUBLICAN GIVE THE FOLLOWING SPEECH?<br />'My Fellow Americans: As you all know, the defeat of the Iraq regime has been completed.<br /><br />Since congress does not want to spend any more money on this war, our mission in Iraq is complete.<br /><br />This morning I gave the order for a complete removal of all American forces from Iraq This action will be complete within 30 days. It is now time to begin the reckoning.<br /><br /><br />Before me, I have two lists. One list contains the names of countries which have stood by our side during the Iraq conflict. This list is short . The United Kingdom , Spain , Bulgaria , Australia , and Poland are some of the countries listed there.<br /><br />The other list contains every one not on the first list. Most of the world's nations are on that list. My press secretary will be distributing copies of both lists later this evening.<br /><br />Let me start by saying that effective immediately, foreign aid to those nations on List 2 ceases immediately and indefinitely. The money saved during the first year alone will pretty much pay for the costs of the Iraqi war. THEN EVERY YEAR THERE AFTER IT'll GO TO OUR SOCIAL SECURITY SYSTEM SO IT WONT GO BROKE IN 20 YEARS.<br /><br />The American people are no longer going to pour money into third world Hell holes and watch those government leaders grow fat on corruption.<br /><br />Need help with a famine ? Wrestling with an epidemic? Call France .<br /><br />In the future, together with Congress, I will work to redirect this money toward solving the vexing social problems we still have at home . On that note, a word to terrorist organizations. Screw with us and we will hunt you down and eliminate you and all your friends from the face of the earth.<br /><br />Thirsting for a gutsy country to terrorize? Try France or maybe China .<br /><br />I am ordering the immediate severing of diplomatic relations with France , Germany , and Russia . Thanks for all your help, comrades. We are retiring from NATO as well. Bonne chance, mezamies.<br /><br />I have instructed the Mayor of New York City to begin towing the many UN diplomatic vehicles located in Manhattan with more than two unpaid parking tickets to sites where those vehicles will be stripped, shredded a nd crushed. I don't care about whatever treaty pertains to this. You creeps have tens of thousands of unpaid tickets. Pay those tickets tomorrow or watch your precious Benzes, Beamers and limos be turned over to some of the finest chop shops in the world. I love New York<br /><br />A special note to our neighbors. Canada is on List 2. Since we are likely to be seeing a lot more of each other, you folks might want to try not pissing us off for a change.<br /><br />Mexico is also on List 2 its president and his entire corrupt government really need an attitude adjustment. I will have a couple extra thousand tanks and infantry divisions sitting around. Guess where I am going to put 'em? Yep, border security.<br /><br />Oh, by the way, the United States is abrogating the NAFTA treaty - starting now.<br /><br />We are tired of the one-way highway. Immediately, we'll be drilling for oil in Alaska- which will take care of this country's oil needs for decades to come. If you're an environmentalist who opposes this decision, I refer you to List 2 above: pick a country and move there.<br /><br />It is time for America to focus on its own welfare and its own citizens. Some will accuse us of isolationism. I answer them by saying, 'darn tootin.'<br /><br />Nearly a century of trying to help folks live a decent life around the world has only earned us the undying enmity of just about everyone on the planet. It is time to eliminate hunger in America It is time to eliminate homelessness in America . To the nations on List 1, a final thought. Thank you guys. We owe you and we won't forget.<br /><br />To the nations on List 2, a final thought: You might want to learn to speak Arabic.<br /><br />God bless America .. Thank you and good night.'<br /><br />If you can read this, thank a teacher. If you are reading it in English, thank a soldier.<br /><br />(Please forward this to at least ten friends and see what happens! Let's get this to every USA computer!)ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-83413590718814771792008-07-23T10:28:00.013-04:002008-12-10T13:11:59.615-05:00To Kidbilly....but wait, there's more!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1KXhrOwyaM9DBuVlcd-lVX834xXX8YZgcg8JhWUkf9Bbu4Lbbg24V-wFLKYwd2qIRIT8DNHy91ONE3PPHZbfwk2ykwFc-kuYgO0ondnTP1UDOf5IYMEK7xCUqVD0Lxb1bJHOVXwfzT98v/s1600-h/LedZeppelin1969Promo.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1KXhrOwyaM9DBuVlcd-lVX834xXX8YZgcg8JhWUkf9Bbu4Lbbg24V-wFLKYwd2qIRIT8DNHy91ONE3PPHZbfwk2ykwFc-kuYgO0ondnTP1UDOf5IYMEK7xCUqVD0Lxb1bJHOVXwfzT98v/s200/LedZeppelin1969Promo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226239325776972738" /></a><br />Tag, you're it. Here's a link to Kidbilly's award winning blog. Check it, read it, and jump into this heated mix. http://www.wherethereswil.blogspot.com/<br /><br />Wil<br />Thank you for considering me the World's Leading Zep Expert. (You have no idea how long he wanted to type "Zepspert.") I assure you that I'm just a big nerd when it comes to the Greatest Band Ever, but I will graciously accept the Crown. (He did an acceptance dance that NO ONE would want to see.)<br /><br /><br />Classic Rock. It's a phrase that I think most responsible people have taken for granted over the last thrity years. (You're 28 though, right?) I was born in 1980 (HA! Didn't write it out this time!) and unfortunately had to experience the best Rock that music has ever had to offer secondhand, if you will. (What if they won't?) Firsthand I really only had the music of the Nineties (damnitt...) to grow up with, as I was a teenager from '93 to '99. I'll tell you right now that my one of my favorite bands is the Gin Blossoms, who are actually back together and even put a record out as recently as 2006. Will I ever hear the Gins on a Classic Station? No. Not until the Nineties becomes Classic, and by Wil's (aren't you addressing him in the first place?) calculations, that will be sometime in the next decade. But it's still not Classic Rock. Why? Here's a fine definition of Classic Rock (how many damn times are you going to type that?!) as given by our friend, Wikipedia:<br /><strong>Classic rock </strong>was originally conceived as a radio station programming format which evolved from the album oriented rock (AOR) format in the early-1980s. In the United States, this rock music format now features a large and nearly unlimited playlist of songs ranging from the early-1960s through the early-1980s with more emphasis on the earlier hits by artists associated with the loosely-defined "classic rock era".[citation needed]<br /><br />(I love it when it says "citation needed"!)<br /><br />I know what you're thinking. (I doubt it...) That definition is bullshit!! Of course it is. Let's break it down a little. (*sigh*) What exactly is <em>nearly unlimited</em>? (almost limited?) Alright, I'm done breaking it down. (That's it?!) There's really no need. No one here is in any kind of disagreement about what Classic Rock <em>should</em> be. People seem to be more up in arms about the fact that the current Pop stations play nothing but shit. (What the Hell does that mean?) What I mean, and it's not really Radio's fault, is that the new music coming through the pipe line has apparently been coming from Sewer Pipes instead of the normal routes. Maybe Classic Rock dammed up those portals. <br /><br />The likes of Zeppelin, The Who, Queen, The Doors, The Stones, are gone. (Didn't Zep play last winter?) They can come back in spirit though. There's one thing in common with ALL that is considered Classic Rock. (By who? ((whom?)) Guitar. I agree with you Wil, John Mayer is a poser, and I despise his singles. He's raking in dollar bills imitating Dave Matthews one day, and writing just terrible pop songs the next. He's trying way too hard.(Women seem to love it.) BUT that son of a bitch can play guitar, and I don't know why he refuses to show that to mainstream. (I just said why!) Quite seriously, he should take a backseat and form a serious band. If he were to stop being "John Mayer" and just play on and maybe even write good blues rock, then he can step out and be John Mayer. It's EXACTLY what Clapton did. (But Clapton is God!) Clapton's pop doesn't compare to his old stuff with Cream, but does anyone really hold it against him? Jimmy Page's solo records (he had some?) are far lesser known than what he did with Led Zeppelin. <br /><br />I've gone way off topic, (No, you?!?) so it's probably time to reel in this train wreck of a blog. Wil, my internet Brother from another Blog, keep on bitching. You obviously will not fall on deaf ears, as I have seen you shielding and defending moronic comments from Mutants with positions not even on the field, and you will have support from the Loyal and Unwavering Classic Rock Legion. (Is that a cartoon with Superman in it?) And to you, pop crap of today's "Top Whatever," I patiently await the day when I can laugh, and pull so hard to see you swinging on the Gallows Pole. <br /><br /><br /><strong>EDIT</strong>- <strong>Time</strong>:Later... <strong>Date</strong>: No thank you, Im engaged.<br />I have since learned that Mr. John Mayer has in fact dabbled in the godless yet purely spiritual experience that is massive blues rock. He apparently has a GREAT album called "Live Trio" where he does pretty much what I was talking about before. Now to be fair, (here it comes...) I knew of this album's existence before posting my jem of an opinion. I have not heard it, however, (Wait a minute, "Jem?" You're going to let him get away with that?) nor did I know what was played on the record. I have only read online (oh there's a shocker) that it was really good. (Well then how the Hell did you know he was a great guitarist?!) You, the reader, might be wondering how the Hell I knew he was a great guitarist? If you haven't seen John Mayer on the Chappelle Show, (any more info? Or do we have to find it ourselves?) then you need to. He does a bit where he (who, Chappelle or Mayer?) wants to discover how different ethnicities react when they hear Electric Guitar. (Ah, Chappelle it is.) It's a riot! Anyway, the licks he pulls out just for that inane little skit were pretty good! Also, like I said, I've read about his guitar prowess. So as I was saying...."Live Trio." I'll have to listen.<a href="http://www.wherethereswil.blogspot.com"></a>ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-19659743128106262912008-07-17T10:28:00.012-04:002008-07-18T10:22:47.796-04:00"Boos? F*** you!" -Chase Utley, All StarChase Utley made a bit of a blunder at the Homerun Derby at Yankee Stadium this past Monday during the player introductions. After his name was called, he was treated to unmerciful boos from the mutants of New York City. His response was the exact quote in the title of this entry, and to it I say that I whole heartedly agree with you, Chase. Fuck New York in a serious way. (That's a little harsh isn't it?) The only problem I have Chase, is that you said that on live television. With America's (desensitized) youth at the helm of the remote. Come on, man. You're better than that.<br /><br />Was it wrong that you said something like that to people who hail from the cesspool of America? Was it wrong of you to defend your honor as a deserving Major League Baseball All Star? Was it wrong for all of those big headed, little brained, and otherwise inept human beings to boo every player that wasn't on their pathetic city's teams? No(*), no, and yes. (The asterisk after the first "no" is there to denote that it WAS a mistake to do that on friggin tv!!)<br /><br />Let me get this right out of the way. (Here we go....) I hate New York City. I hate it. Inherently, I hate the Yankees and the Mets. (You'd hate them anyway, you're a Sox fan.) I have my own reasons for wanting to take a huge dump on a city already comprised of it, but for the purposes of this blog, I'll stick with just one (Thank God!) good one; baseball. <br /><br />I am a Boston Red Sox fan and I am damn proud of it. Out of all one hundred and sixty-two (*groan*) games in a season, there's no question the most entertaining and engaging games are those between the two rivals, Boston and New York. The Yankees have traditionally been the "better" team. (Why'd he put that in quotes?...)For countless years, it was the Yankess who finished on top, and beating Us specifically to get there. As everyone (especially New York!!) knows, that tide has changed in the last four years, and Boston has emerged as the better team (No quotes that time?) and has won two World Championships to New York's zero. <br /><br />Each team has their own storied and beloved home field. Boston ofcourse has Fenway Park, while the Yankees have Yankee Stadium. Both are icons of the game. The problem is, one of those icons is to be reimagined after this season. Yankee Stadium will be replaced by a new one built just across the parking lot in the Bronx. (Who cares?) As a Baseball fan, I have to say that I am sad to see it go. I've been there once, and despite my feelings for all things New York, I'm very happy I had the pleasure of going. (Is this guy serious?!?!) You cannot call yourself a baseball fan if you don't appreciate the massive amount of history and importance Yankee Stadium carries on it's concrete shoulders. I'm not a sports writer (are you even a writer?) so I won't begin to get into those stories. <br /><br />I hate you New York, with extreme passion. (Are you gritting your teeth while you type?) Without you though, baseball would not have been the same. It would not have become the sport I love and enjoy to this day. I extend a moment of truce to say that I'm sorry to see your legendary "House That Ruth Built" become the lesser used guest house to the New Yankee Stadium. Why be peaceful and open minded when you assholes (here we go again...) boo every player not a Yankee or a Met? Because I have something you poor bastards never will have. Class. Your team prides itself for having it,(most of them do. I'm lookin at YOU A-Rod) yet you the fans have simply none of it. I say it speaks to the attitude of the City as a whole (weren't you just gonna leave this about baseball?) but what do I know. <br /><br />I bring this weird ride back to Chase Utley. Bravo my friend. (you don't know the guy dumbass) Just don't do it again on tv! Well, now wait a minute...fuck it. Let's have HBO televise the game. Or the internet. Clearly you can say whatever the fuck you want there! (Here?) I guess the main thing is that the City and I have a hate/hate-not-so-much relationship. Good times, bad times, you know we've had our share. A little more Zep for you, back by popular demand!ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-72387873352171480582008-07-09T09:25:00.004-04:002008-07-09T10:31:00.461-04:00Ten Years GoneWell, I ended the last one with a Zep reference (unnecessarily, I might add) so in the tradition of great transitions, I title this entry with yet another. The song comes from probably the group's greatest studio album (yeah, in YOUR opinion maybe) Physical Graffitti. The song is also and most obviously, a reflection on the happenings of ten years past. It had also better be a song they play loudly at my upcoming Ten year high school reunion. (Finally! He gets to the point!)<br /><br />In today's modern world of high speed interwebz access, thousands of tv channels, ketchup in bottles with the spout on the bottom, and gasoline that involves loan paperwork to buy, I hadn't yet secured my tickets to the Event. (what did those others things have to do with?....ah nevermind.) The tickets are a whopping thirty-five (here we go with the numbers again...) bucks apiece, and the tickets say there is a "no host bar." Well, I did see the word "bar" and got a little excited. Then I realized there were two other words in front of it. It has to mean open bar right? I mean the tickets are thirty-five dollars, which ofcourse includes dinner and drinks right? I graduated up there in my class, I didn't complete college, but I consider myself smrt. (Dude, you gonna....you gonna spell check that right?) On this day however, I was stumped by the wording and had to look up what the Hell a "no host bar" was. <br /> * * *<br />A man walks his dog down the street. It's a nice, breezy and mild day. Birds are chirping, lawns are being cut, and as we've just seen, dogs are being walked. The man's faithful companion finishes his business and waits dutifully for his master to examine, and give praise. As the man reaches down to pick up his friend's gift for proper disposal, he is caught far off balance by an unmercifully loud noise and falls face first into the prize. What could have pierced through the man's concentration? It sounded like surely someone's arm had come off, and was a clear screaming cry of "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" What could it be? We leave the man to ponder that question as he crudely wipes his face with a towel he had in his pocket. "Shoulda got a cat," the man complains.<br /> * * *<br /><br />"Honey, what the hell was that?!" says my fiance as she rushes into the living room to find me near complete exhaustion, sprawled on the floor.<br />"It's....it's....a...it's not a...." is all I can manage. After a few minutes, I came to and was able to properly explain myself. I had just discovered that "no host bar" means a goddamn CASH BAR. (Wow. What a drama queen. And why did the random guy have to be picking up dog crap?)<br /><br />In all seriousness, a cash bar is probably a good thing. (ofcourse it is, you drunk) It just means that more of my millions (AH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!) will be spent on individual beers. <br /><br />I do look forward to going to this reunion. There are some I haven't seen in ages (ten years, moron) and some I have seen randomly throughout the years. I look forward to being there with my beautiful fiance and catching up with old friends. (any other cliches you wanna drop?) See you there.ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-72654389062990153212008-07-05T10:35:00.004-04:002008-07-05T23:04:28.803-04:00If Life's a Beach, can I exchange mine for something else?Ah......the Beach. When I was a kid, I used to really enjoy going to the Beach. Never big on swimming in the Ocean, my family turned its attention to beautiful, warm, land-locked lake water. We had a family camp in the southern bowels of Maine, and sometimes we'd even pay hard earned dollars to frequent a genuine beach.<br /><br />Deciding to spend this year's July Fourth at a public beach was a decision that came surprisingly fast. Early July Third, my fiance text messaged me that she wanted to go to the Beach. She loves the Ocean. I like it too, I really do, but I'd rather breathe canned air in a wet suit while in the frigid salt water than swim in it. Also, I'm not really a big lay (lie?) in the sun and tan guy. Taking in her voiceless request, I took it upon myself to decide that we should go a lake so that we could both enjoy the water, and she could still get a little sun. We talked about it later, and decided that the Lake would be a great substitute for Ocean.<br /><br />Fast forward to our arrival at the Lake, and we quickly realize that July Fourth Two Thousand and Eight (why does he keep writing out the numbers?...) was not the day to go to the Lake. The closer we came while driving to our destination, I kept thinking, "This might be crowded." Well it was. The beach opened its gaping, wallet sucking, chain link doors at nine in the morning (again with the numbers....) and it became very clear that we should have been here well before even that early time. We didn't arrive until nearly eleven am. I knew we were doomed as soon I handed over my eight dollars and the kind person who accepted it turned to someone else and said, "Are we stamping? It's really busy." *sigh*<br /><br />After we got in, we began to search the "beach" for an ample spot to hunker down and begin receiving skin poisoning rays. Since we didn't get there early enough, all the spots on the sand near the water and in the sun were scooped up. By whom, you might ask? By some of the most undeserving mutants you'll ever lay (lie?) eyes (no, lay it is) on. These people look like they have never left the dining room table, or worse yet, the goddamn basement. I saw an extremely large party of people (only four people, mind you, but LARGE nonetheless) setting up camp (literally, they were setting up a tent) very close to one of the few "BEACH RULES" signs nailed into one of the many pine trees. One of the first rules said, and I'm not kidding here, "No lifeguard." Alright, so under any and all circumstances, there is no chance in Hell a Life Guard will step foot on this beach. They simply don't allow it. Another "rule" on the sign said something about no alcohol on the beach. Looking around, I could see numerous people holding various beverages in their hands. Kids had juice boxes, older kids had two juice boxes, even older kids were holding juice boxes over the heads of their younger siblings, *SMACK* (Get off the juice boxes!!!) *ahem* Sorry about that. Where was I? Right, right....and the adults all had cans in their hands. These weren't just cans though. No. These cans were protected from the beating sun by a can coozie. (that word was painful to type.) Are these very same people who don't seem to care about their girth or their close proximity to several stinking trash cans really concerned about protecting their drinks? Nope. They're being as clever as their feeble minds allow them to be. They're "hiding" their beer cans. It would be one thing if the can coolers (I now refuse to type the word "coozie"...it makes me feel dirty) actually covered the whole can. They don't. Someone needs to tell these people that a Michelob Ultra (they care about carbs when drinking but not eating?) can is not hard to spot when the top three (is he going to write out every number?) inches are showing. But wait a minute....there's no life guard here anyway. Who's policing? Who's in charge here? (And don't those things actually keep the can cold?) I wonder if there are lifeguards disguising themselves so they can get in. Wouldn't it be great if that were the rule being disregarded? "No lifeguard?" observes a lifeguard. "Fuck that, I'm going in. I have lives to guard damn it! Someone wrap me in a coozie." (now I need a shower)<br /><br />When all was said and done (isn't that a dumb phrase?) we didn't stay at the Lake/Beach very long. Since everyone and their fat ass brother and trailer trash, tramp-stamped sister had taken all the best spots for possible enjoyment, we threw a disc (can't say Frisbee, don't wanna get sued) around in the water for a bit and my Lady got a little sun, and then we left. I felt bad about it really, since my fiance wanted to go to the Ocean. She relieved me of my guilt however, and assured me that we should come back to the Lake on a day when it would be less crowded. She's great like that.<br /><br />Robert Plant sang about the Ocean once. He wasn't singing about actual salt water though. I just wanted to mention it. Long Live the Zep.ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3795418801493406120.post-45886370947021690982008-07-03T11:14:00.000-04:002008-07-03T12:44:50.177-04:00Blog, blog, bolg...wait...bolg?Ok, I did it. I set one of these things up, and I have made a "commitment" to write in it. Why not? I suppose I'll take a moment of your time and explain my blog title. It comes from one of my favorite bits from quite possibly the greatest show that was ever resurrected from being canceled, Family Guy. If you remember it now, cool. If not, I can't help you much. You'll just have to experience it for yourself.<br />What's my goal? What are my motives? Why initiate such a bold manuever? Can Mars support life? Why is it so damn cold in here? All good questions I hope to answer. Oh look, the thermostat......ExistentialChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16707531757758036614noreply@blogger.com0