It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

(I think I need a vacation--might be coming home the weekend of Nov . 12 to shoot some birdies.)

Little Blue Indians

I have been surrounded by little blue indians all morning, and that is why I have accomplished jack shit today. One of them ate a paperclip and another tried to scalp my telephone. Three more are doing a rain dance on the file cabinet and making little war drums out of my file folders. Overall, they are a pain in the ass.

But they aren't as bad as the Canadian communist polar bear that was here yesterday. He had a really annoying lisp. He just kept saying, "Thay, thith lookth like it would be thuper to eat." He ate like 14 pens, so I had to go get more. I think that the little blue indians were hiding in the pen box.

Where are we going, and why am I in this handbasket?

Just the Facts

Eeds' blog is at: http://www.eeds22.blogspot.com/

Pothead's blog is at: http://adbt.blogspot.com/

Pappy's blog is at: http://bohemianlogic.blogspot.com/

The "deleted by administrator" comments to my blog were spam comments. I hate spam and the spammers who sent it. I don't want that shit on my blog. That is also why you have to do word verification to post a comment on my blog.

You don't have to be a blogger or sign in to post comments here. Just post as "Other" and fill in your name.

I don't spell check or grammer check, because that is a huge pain in the ass. If you want to see good fucking grammer, go to Eeds' blog (or her tiny friend Sarah's at http://www.xanga.com/sarahqc).

I'm not politically correct, I don't always use nice words, I'm seriously considering starting to post a "favorite hunting pic of the week" picture on this blog in the near future and I'm pretty sure that John Wayne was a god.

In Threes

As a nice departure from my normal rantings and ravings, and at the request of Eeds (www.eeds22.blogspot.com), here I am, in 3s.

By the way, some of the categories from Eeds' list really sucked, so I chucked them and added some new ones. Also, I generally hate these kind of "fill-out-this-forward-and-send-it-to-10-of-your-closest-friends-so-they-know-more-useless-shit-about-you-than-they-do-now" crap, but I am lazy and don't want to think of another topic for today. Feel free to ridicule.

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE ME
1. Nuclear War
2. Carnies
3. The fact that reality-television is acutally a popular medium of entertainment.

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE (can you figure it out?)
1. I had a truck named "Frog"
2. I gave my campaign speech for Student Body President to a herd of angus cattle while HD was icing down another 30-pack.
3. I think that more restrictive gun laws, heightened rights for felons and greater latitude for liberal understanding are vital for growth of our nation.

THREE PLACES I WANT TO GO ON VACATION
1. Cabo
2. Alaska
3. France (right after it becomes the newest US Territory)

THREE THINGS I CAN'T DO
1. Click past "Law & Order" without stopping until the wife yells at me to change the channel.
2. Tell the difference between her "new black sweater", the "other black sweater", her "favorite black sweater" and her "black shirt".
3. Respect people who think they are entitled to something because of ethnicity or gender.

THREE THINGS I WANT TO DO BEFORE I DIE
1. Parachute
2. Get to the point where I don't have a blackberry or a cell phone
3. Watch K-State in the national championship.

THREE THINGS I WANT TO SAY TO PEOPLE, BUT DON'T
1. Get the hell out of my way.
2. Quit bitching.
3. Why the fuck should I care?

THREE INANIMATE OBJECTS THAT, TAKEN TOGETHER, COMPLETELY AND ACCURATELY REPRESENT MY LIFE:
1. Coffee Can of KS Soil
2. BMW X5
3. Chunk of Wood.

Well, that was less fun than I had hoped. Still, better than thinking of something original right now.

That's A Lot of Rage

Was engaging in the ultimate narcissistic ritual--reading my own blog--and noticed that things have gotten a mite tense on here as of late. I blame Pappy. Things are generally his fault.

Looking forward to a good weekend. The Sox are in the World Series, and I'm predicting a solid win on Saturday (Roger Clemens is amazing, but without any offense, the Astros will fall short again). It's supposed to be cold and rainy in Chicago this weekend, so I don't even have to pretend that I will go run errands or be productive. Hopefully, I can catch up on work, sleep in and watch football and baseball for two days.

Also, the great American condo search is going well. Looking to sign on a place next week, and that would be fucking great. No more searching for a place to live, just working with the designer and stuff to figure out how we want this place to look (by the way -- Eeds, send me contact info for the Crazy Aunt). Oh yeah, and finding the money to pay for this thing.

Going to be driving back to KS for Thanksgiving. That will make it much easier to pack, b/c I can just throw everything in the back of the blazer, and I don't have to worry about checking the 12 gauge at the airport. Also, this way I can throw the entire "hunting box" in without actually having to decide which items are necessary for pheasant season. Makes things much faster, and there is just something about knowing that my camo, binocs, wet boots, dry boots, gaiters, big knife, medium knife, little knife, buck-shot, turkey-load, 4s, 6s, 8s, .45 ammo and turkey call are available. It's like the wife's need to pack 8 different outfits for a two-day trip. Genetics or something. I don't care if it is 30 degrees and pouring rain, I am spending that Saturday hunting.

On that note, Snot, Pappy, H.D., Captain (and Pothead, if you are going to be in the state), what are you guys doing the Saturday after Thanksgiving? I haven't shot anything from a vehicle for awhile, and my Busch Light level is dangerously low.

NBA Dress Code

"I feel like if they want us to dress a certain way, they should pay for our clothes," said Philadelphia's Allen Iverson. "It's just tough, man, knowing that all of a sudden you have to have a dress code out of nowhere.

Iverson will make $14 to 16 million in salary THIS YEAR plus endorsements.

How fucking tough can it be for a super-star multi, multi, multi millionaire to dress like a professional?

Fuck you A.I.


10/21/05 Update: From ESPN

Charles Barkley offered the most interesting and authoritative take yet supporting the NBA dress code. Here's the money quote from Leno on Wednesday night:

"Young black kids dress like NBA players. Unfortunately, they don't get paid like NBA players. So when they go out in the real world, what they wear is held against them. See, these players make $10 million to $15 million a year, so nobody cares how they dress. But regular black kids go out into the real world and how they dress is held against them. If a well-dressed white kid and a black kid wearing a do-rag and throwback jersey came to me in a job interview, I'd hire the white kid. That's reality. That's the No. 1 reason I support the dress code."

Right fuckin on.

Tyler Durden

Again, having a day where smacking someone in the head seems like a perfectly reasonable solution to the problem of them being a dumbass. The next time someone asks me if I'm busy, I just want to walk over to them and open hand them across the face (smacking = open hand, and is useful for correcting dumbasses; hitting/beating = closed fist, and is useful for correcting stupid fuckers).

I think that the desire to smack someone coupled with being in the middle of buying a fucking condo for more money than I ever imagined spending on a fucking 1400 square foot space that doesn't even have a fucking yard has made Fight Club quotes especially pertinent for today. Also, work has dropped me down to 172, so I figure that if I quit working and devoted myself to working out, drinking and making soap, I'd be in Brad Pitt shape by Thanksgiving (maybe not the drinking part, but let's be reasonable).

Mmmmmmm, soap. And fire.

"All the ways you wish you could be, that's me. I look like you wanna look, I fuck like you wanna fuck, I am smart, capable, and most importantly, I am free in all the ways that you are not."

"I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off."

Things I Need

Feeling a little militant today. Here are some additions to my Christmas list.

1. New T-Shirt

The website where I found this also has a "Footprint of the American Chicken" shirt, with a big peace sign on it. Get it? The wife vetoed that one, but this one may be ok.














2. Bumper Stickers

Is there any way that one of these will not be on Pothead's truck by January?










3. Book

Even though it is written by a Yale Law School prof., it still sounds interesting. Plus, it has the word "Militant" in the title, so I'm pretty sure it will be ok.

















I really need to shoot something.

Mill Creek Flood

Looks like Mill Creek flooded again, and the residents of Paxico have come through with flying colors.

Pictured below is Captain's cousin and his girlfriend/wife/sister.



Normally, Wabaunsee County tradition dictates that no fewer than 2 men and 14 firearms be present for any emergency beer run. However, after H.D. sunk the first three or four pieces of plywood, they had to turn to the skinny chick to ride the party-barge to the Quick Shop and back.

Note that this photo truly exhibits that Paxico motto: "variety is the spice of life." When 30-packs of Busch Light ran out, these people didn't bitch and moan. They just picked up a little of everything else: Bud Light, Bud Heavy, Keystone Ice, Red Dog, random bottles of alchol, and 16 oz. of sprite to mix.

I can guarantee they plan on putting this all in one big bucket and drinking the concoction. (Hence, the toilett paper.)

When all the alcohol is gone, they'll just call Captain on the marine band radio and have him come pick them up in Catfish Hunter. (If that fucker forgets the trolling motor again, they are going to be shit out of luck.)

P.S. 10 to 1 says that the guy was in charge of getting smokes, so he stuck a couple of cartons of Marlboro Lights in his pockets. Seriously, they'll dry out just fine.

Obviously, you're not a golfer.

Felt like putting up some good Lebowski shit. I can't believe that I spent 40% of my senior year drunk and watching this movie from a couch on a loft 5 feet in the air in a house with a bar and dj booth but no fucking kitchen chairs where I lived in the basement with my future brother in law and wondered constantly when H.D. was going to snap and kill us all.

That was a good fucking time.

Remember when we would have parties with 3 or 4 hundred of our closest friends, and we'd put down tarps on the floor to catch the beer? Fucking great. Pothead in the ceiling was funny, too. Not so much at the time, funny, but more looking back on it funny. How about when Erin and Kyra started dancing on the bar. That kicked ass, too. And when CrazyLantz passed out on the couch in the yard, and was sleeping with the giant stuffed fish.

Fuck. Other great shit that comes to mind: flipping coins to determine who was sober enough to get another keg. Waking up random people on the couch and listening to them explain what the hell they were doing there. Cardboard walls. Raman and the Forman. Larry was a dick. Really hot neighbors. Pappy sleeping in his bed next to people having sex. Parking in the yard. Talking to the cops in nothing but a pair of camo shorts and a hard hat. Keg-erator. Enough guns to take out Ft. Riley. Pot? What pot? Did Meyer ever pay rent? Floor flex during parties. Christmas lights as high class decor.

I guess the Lebowski has nothing on us, but here are some good moments anyway:

"Nihilists...fuck me. I mean, say what you want about the tenets of National Socialism...at least it's an ethos..."

"You're killing your father, Larry!"

"Hey, hey, careful man! There's a beverage here!"

"Walter, I love you, but sooner or later, you're gonna have to face the fact that you're a goddamned moron."

"Man in the black pajamas, Dude. A fucking worthy adversary."

"Jesus." "You said it, man. Nobody fucks with the Jesus."

"Fucking Quintana! That creep can roll, man." "Yeah, but he's a pervert, man..."

"Donny was a good bowler, and a good man. He was one of us. He was a man who loved the outdoors. And bowling. And as a surfer, he explored the beaches of Southern California from La Jolla to Leo Carillo and up to Pismo. He died, as so many young men of his generation, before his time. In your wisdom, Lord, you took him. As you took so many bright flowering young men at Ke Song, at Lon Doc, and Hill 64. These young men gave their lives, as did Donny. Donny who loved bowling."

Top 10 Baby Names . . .

. . . for Pothead's baby:

10. The Littlest Pothead

9. Zelda.

8. The Baby. Must be spoken with a Scottish accent.

7. Frodo. In hommage to his father's hobbit-like qualities. If unacceptable to mom, could go with Sam or Pippen. Gandolf is out of the question.

6. Al. Al Kaholic.

5. [Pothead] Junior. That way, he will have an answer to "the only other [Pothead] I ever knew was gay."

4. Jimmy. Since Pothead sold the black Jimmy rather than put it out to pasture on the farm, this would be a nice little tribute to a great truck.

3. Busch Light.

2. Jacob or Jake. That way we can all call him "Big Jake." If it's a girl, "Woman." Also a nod to the Duke. Other acceptable names along these lines would be Sean [Thornton], George Washington [McClintock] or Hondo.

1. Dude. Or Duder or El Duderino, if you aren't into the whole brevity thing.

Virginians, virgins and indians (and sheep)

Pothead is becoming a Virginian.

Pappy swears he's not a virgin, but nobody really believes him.

H.D. keeps complaining that nobody responds to his smoke signals.

That pretty much brings you up to date on the group. Oh, and Snot is still playing with sheep.



Stay tuned for the next post: Top 10 names for the Virginian's baby due in March.

Eeds New Blog Site

Sister changed her blog site. Now she is at www.eeds22.blogspot.com.

She said that she told all the "important" people, but that my "dumbass idiot redneck friends" had to find out on their own. Or something like that.

Shoot first

Ask questions later.

I wish I had a harpoon gun on my balcony. That would kick ass. I'd sit up there and try to harpoon the tour boats, and then I'd laugh when they hit the end of the rope and the boat stopped and people fell down.

The City of Chicago put in these little fish habitat things along the Chicago River that are supposed to give the fish places to live and stuff. A few of them even have underwater cameras so that you can see the fish on TV. The temptation to go down there with a cooler of beer and go fishing is almost overwhelming. I'm sure that the next time Pothead comes up, we'll have to organize a little covert fishing expedition. Pretty sure that you go to jail if you get caught, though, so that would suck.

And if Grasshoppers Had .45s There Wouldn't Be Any Birds

Today is Random Thought Day.

1. Kansas Pheasant and Quail season opens November 12th. Wear orange or get shot.

2. At what point does a society become too stupid to rule itself?

3. If Arnold and Jesse can be govenors, why not Pothead? (other than that unfortunate nickname thing)

4. When I die, I want to be buried back home, but on the south side of the plot. Not on the north side next to the Akers. I didn't even like them that much when they were alive.

5. Is shooting fish wrong? What if they were coming right for you?

6. I dream about fly-fishing the salt flats down in Mexico, but I suck at fly-casting.

7. Going house/condo shopping this weekend. It's going to suck.

8. Pothead sold his truck, even though it was like a member of the family. The black Jimmy deserved so much better, Pothead. It deserved to be around until it finally got parked behind the barn.

9. I think that John Wayne was the best actor that ever lived, and he played the exact same character/roll in every movie.

10. I think Pappy finally got laid.

11. Go you go go White Sox.

12. My sister is turning into a liberal. Seriously. Is there some support group I can join?


[p.s. thanks to eeds for the title quote]

Racists

Just read a news article (excerpt below) and couldn't believe that this level of racism exists at a U.S. university. Amazing.


******On Sept. 25, the Women's Studies and Graduate Consortium at Northeastern University in Boston held a public on-campus meeting called "Breaking Bread: Women Dialogue." Black women were barred.

The SGA demanded that no student be denied entry to a public, on-campus event because of skin color. This was not merely a moral stand but also a demand that the university-sponsored event comply with the university's non-discrimination policy. (Exclusion on the basis of gender seems to have raised no comment.)

Rather than cancel the event, Dr. Robin Chandler — director of women's studies and an organizer of the event — cracked the door wide enough for black women to walk through.

In NU, Northeastern's student newspaper, Chandler described her response to allowing a black woman to attend. "I welcomed her anyway, in addition to telling the audience to conduct themselves with integrity even though the presence of a black woman was unwelcome," she said. Chandler continued, "I think it's a shame that one or two black students based on black privilege, a lack of awareness of racial issues and a lack of generosity of spirit complained to the office of the provost and were able, because they were black, to gain admission to the morning session that I was forced to open up."******

Except the story was about barring WHITE, not BLACK women. Change every "black" above to "white".

Check out the full story at FoxNews: A White Oppressor? Who Me? October 04, 2005

This country is heading for another civil war. It will be either racial or socio-economic. It is not a matter of "if", but "when", and the reason is that fucking liberal dumbshits like those at NU are allowed to couch their disdain for other races or economic groups as politically correct "diversity" events.

But what the hell. I guess that being an upper middle-class white guy, I'm probably going to be on the winning end of the battle.

(Was the last line a little over the edge? Thought about removing it, but this stuff just pisses me off.)

Two Days a Month and Whooping Ass

My job kicks ass at least two days a month -- the first and the 15th--because that is when the paycheck comes. All other days are up in the air. Sometimes, a whole month will be good and work will be manageable and the Wildcats will win football games. Sometimes, there are 28 days of shit, I work all the time, and the Cats lose to the fucking Sooners.

Was in NYC last week for what may have technically been a "closing", but what for all practical purposes was one big horse fuck. Ever have to work with people who just don't get it? You go in with the assumption that they have a clue, and then once you get there, you realize that these were the same people who spent the bulk of their elementary school years eating glue and learning how to work the swings. It's like trying to push a rope uphill.

Here's another thought about NYC, especially as compared to Chicago: Although the city is interesting in a "Law & Order" kind of you-could-get-shot-or-see-someone-jump-off-a-building way, it pretty much is a dark, dirty, smelly, nasty-ass place. They stack their garbage right on the sidewalk, so even in the nicer parts of Manhattan, you are pretty much walking through a dump. Blah.

What else has been pissing me off lately? . . . hmmm. Well, people are bitching about the new supreme court justice/nominee because they aren't far enough to the right. God forbid Bush would put an impartial fucking judge on the bench--someone who actually applies the law instead of makes it up as they go along. And the fucking tree-hugging liberal pansy ass shit head Democrats on the judiciary committee say that the nominee is going to have to answer a bunch of questions about how she would handle specific cases, should they ever come before the court. That is the dumbest damn thing I've ever heard. A good judge would never say how they would handle a case, because the facts of each specific case are different, and to say how they would rule would indicate a bias.

It is like the idiots all got together and declared it National Be a Fucking Idiot day. These people are alive only because it is illegal to shoot them.

One more fun note: have decided to restrict the amount of time spent with KSU frat buddies. Managed to get in a bar fight last weekend, and they are no longer any good at jumping in. Wasn't really much of a fight -- big drunken idiot hitting on wife and her friend. I got in his face, he swung [for all you paying attention --assualt], then I swung, then it moved to general melee that lasted all of 2 1/2 seconds b/c really big bouncers stopped it. Evidently, they were watching the whole him being an asshole episode but were waiting for a commercial in the Road House marathon so they could do their fucking job. Overall, pretty good time. Still, if HD and Pothead would have been there, that would have been more fun b/c they would not have been crocked to the point that they were oblivous to the whole thing -- acual comment from supposed back up: "I really didn't know what was going on until we got thrown out. Did you see how hot that girl was?" All that matters is that 2 out of 3 ringside judges gave me the round. The third was looking at the hot girl.


Finally, the song for the week is Manifest No. 1 by Shooter Jennings:

Well, you moved out of my apartment
And you moved out of my old town
And my life has remained so lonely
Since you ain't been around
And to think how far I traveled honey
Just to see you one last time
But if that's how you say hello
You can kiss my ass goodbye

So let your hair down, get out of that skirt
But leave them high heels on
Because I'll be in the back of my black Cadillac
When Jesus finally comes to call His children home

So let your hair down, get out of that skirt
But leave them high heels on
I'll be in the back of my black Cadillac
When Jesus finally comes to call His children home

Gonna climb a mountain, when I get to the top
I'll find a honky tonk
Where I'll sit and I'll drink
Wondering where you've gone
And to think how far I've traveled
Just to get your off my mind
But if that's how you say hello
You can kiss my ass goodbye

So let your hair down, get out of that skirt
But leave them high heels on
I'll be in the back on my black Cadillac
When Jesus finally comes to call His children home

Oh, yeah, I'll be in the back on my black Cadillac
When Jesus finally comes to call His children home.


Great song.