Monday, November 27, 2006

Saturday, November 25, 2006

Forty-seven Ronin

I was bored last night and tried to watch TV. But as usual....I get up during the commercial break and go to the computer to study what ever I'm watching on TV. The story of the 47 Ronin on wikipedia was a hell of a lot more interesting than the movie I was watching. Can you guess what I was watching?

I'll give you a hint; The second major car chase passes through a Paris tunnel that is remarkably similar to the site of the car accident that led to the death of Diana, Princess of Wales’ in 1997.

I taped the movie so I can watch it later and fast forward through the commercials!

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Happy Thanksgiving unless you're the turkey

A Turkey in my backyard. Who'd a thunk it?

A good day to visit Zelda.

And don't forget the Gem Sisters!

Also a good day to Time Travel!

Wednesday, November 22, 2006


To Abstain or not to Abstain,that is the question?

So far.....I'm an Absinthe Virgin. But one day I'm gonna bust that Cherry!

Bwwaaaaaahhhhhhh.....I just had to Youtube it

Absinthe Strange way?

Absinthe Correct way

Louching Absinthe

Most boring but perfect way

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Is it SAD, or is it just me?

Do I have Seasonal Affective Disorder?

The symptoms of SAD usually start for me about the same day that we roll the clocks back for daylight saving time.

Well....let's check out the symptoms and my opinions on these matters.

Sleep Problems: Well, there is less daylight and more time to sleep. The weather is getting cold and nasty outside, so naturally my body want's to friggin hibernate!

Overeating: Hell's close to know damn well I'm gonna make a pig out of myself, not to mention consuming mass quantities of adult beverages. I'm fueling my body for hibernation.

Lethargy: No shit.......I'm overeating and I'm trying to hibernate. Let me sleep!

Depression: Feelings of misery, guilt and a loss of self esteem from all the fat that is growing on my ass from overeating and oversleeping.

Social Problems: Irritability and desire to avoid social contact. Hell yea I'm irritable because everybody and their brother has the damn stores so crowded you can't go shopping, and besides...I don't want them to see my fat ass!

Anxiety: Nope symptoms there....I was born with tension and the inability to tolerate stress and it doesn't matter what the damn season is.

Loss of Libido: symptoms there......maybe there is hope?

Mood Changes: symtoms there......I'm always a moody beyotch!

Now for the Treatment: It's simple....just fast forward my ass to Spring!

Monday, November 20, 2006

I'm Feeling Lucky

I just found this tonight. GOOGLE! Go to the Google search engine, type in "Abigail & Emily," and hit "I'm Feeling Lucky."

If that doesn't work, try typing in "Abagator", and hit "I'm Feeling Lucky."

Also; go to Google Image Search and type in "Abagator" and hit "Search Images"

There should be about 6 pages of images!......Cool....huh?

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Saturday, November 18, 2006


That Bastard's book deal.

check out what a reporter from the Washington Post, EUGENE ROBINSON had to say below

O.J. Simpson's new book, "If I Did It," could launch a profitable series for publisher Judith Regan and her parent company, Rupert Murdoch's media empire. Let me suggest that she follow up with another snuff book, maybe "If I Shot My Wife in the Head" by Robert Blake, and then diversify into non-capital crimes with "If I Molested All Those Kids" by Michael Jackson.
Anyone who thinks I'm kidding probably clings to the illusion that Regan and the Fox television network have a morsel, a crumb, a mote, an iota of residual shame in what's left of their souls. Sorry, but the evidence shows otherwise.

Of course, many people thought the evidence showed that Simpson was guilty as hell. But Johnnie Cochran isn't around anymore, so maybe Regan and Fox will be showered with the opprobrium they deserve for letting the Juice do this booty-shaking end zone dance on the graves of Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goldman.

Suppose you were put on trial for butchering your ex-wife and her lover in a blood-soaked frenzy - not that you'd ever do such a thing, of course, but going hypothetical is all the rage - and a brilliant lawyer managed to get you acquitted, despite copious evidence of your guilt. Wouldn't you withdraw permanently into quiet obscurity?

Instead, Simpson has interrupted his lonely, relentless search for "the real killer" to write and promote a new book, "If I Did It," that reportedly gives a detailed, gory, ostensibly fictional account of the murders he says he didn't commit.

I'm sure he needs the money. It's not as if he's going to be invited into the "Monday Night Football" booth anytime soon. But this abomination goes beyond exploitation of a brutal crime for financial gain. This is pathological.

Only a narcissist of the first order would be compelled to revisit the scene of the crime and walk us through the butchery, knowing that no one would take his use of "if" or "would have" as anything but a mocking formality - knowing that everyone would read the book as a true confession of his sins. Only a textbook narcissist would have such a warped need to bask once again in the limelight.

Memo to the Juice: Please go away. And take Regan with you. A former "reporter" for the National Enquirer, Regan became a sensation in the publishing world by satisfying humanity's bottomless appetite for slickly packaged trash. Her imprint, ReganBooks, is a division of HarperCollins, which is owned by Rupert Murdoch's News Corp.

Friday, November 17, 2006

Boom Car Assholes

Damn.....those darn door to door solicitors have really brought out the asshole in me tonight. This is my next venture below.

This is some reading info I will be handing out to the punks that disturb me with their trunk thumping audio systems that pull into Go Gas, Kangaroo, Piggly Wiggly etc. near my house.

"Nice version
Boom Cars
A boom car is a vehicle equipped with an audio system producing a powerful bass sound that can be heard and felt more than a block away. These vehicles are sometimes called trunk thumpers and street pounders. They cause noise pollution that disturbs millions of people each day. The pounding bass sound can rattle windows and travel through walls. Residents who live in dense urban communities are more likely to suffer from this noise. But as manufacturers continue to make more powerful sound systems, no community will be immune from this type of noise pollution.
People who drive boom cars consider it their right to play music at any volume they please. They regard their car as an expression of themselves and the louder it is, the bolder the statement that they can make. Boomers are typically lower-middle class males in their teens and twenties with some disposable income. They assume that their car will attract women and improve their social standing among their peers.
My version
Most likely you are an inconsiderate asshole if you are reading this message. Especially after I have just taken a digital picture of your car and license plate. I have a strong suspicion that you are also a recreational drug user, because no idiot in their right mind would want to ride around while their brain is vibrating from that shit you call music. If we need to call the police……make my day….lets do it punk.
I am doing my own research into this matter and I am going to post your picture on the Internet in what I will call my wall of “Shameless Assholes with Boom Car Audio Systems”.
Now that I have said my piece and you feel the need to conform to society and turn your hellish noise down to a level where it doesn’t disturb your neighbors……..then please forgive my indiscretions.
If not?
There’s not much I can do but visualize you being burned alive with a 1000 watt Bass speaker shoved up your ass.
I would never act on those thoughts, but I have to get some pleasure out of this bass thumping torture you have subjected me too.

Have a nice Day!"
No Soliciting.......Damn it!!!!!!

I've had about enough of those Damn Jehovah's witnesses and those little bastards with the refrigerated pickup trucks peddling their friggin beef and pork products.

I put up this sign

along with this message on my door today

"Shit……..I must live in Solicitors Central, cause every damn solicitor in Castle Hayne comes to my frigging door!!!

My friends and relatives know and accept me for the asshole that I am.

If I need to buy something, I’ll get off my fat ass and go to the store. I don’t need any damn thing you are selling.

As for you Damn Jehovah’s Witnesses…….Don’t push your dumb ass religion on me and I wont push your dumb ass down the steps. That goes for any other religious or political affiliate that thinks he or she needs to cram their views down my damn throat.

Just leave me the hell alone……Please!!!!!!! "

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

THRASHER by Neil Young
They were hiding behind hay bales,
They were planting in the full moon
They had given all they had for something new
But the light of day was on them,
They could see the thrashers coming
And the water shone like diamonds in the dew.

And I was just getting up, hit the road before it's light
Trying to catch an hour on the sun
When I saw those thrashers rolling by,
Looking more than two lanes wide
I was feelin' like my day had just begun.

Where the eagle glides ascending
There's an ancient river bending
Down the timeless gorge of changes
Where sleeplessness awaits
I searched out my companions,
Who were lost in crystal canyons
When the aimless blade of science
Slashed the pearly gates.

It was then I knew I'd had enough,
Burned my credit card for fuel
Headed out to where the pavement turns to sand
With a one-way ticket to the land of truth
And my suitcase in my hand
How I lost my friends I still don't understand.

They had the best selection,
They were poisoned with protection
There was nothing that they needed,
Nothing left to find
They were lost in rock formations
Or became park bench mutations
On the sidewalks and in the stations
They were waiting, waiting.

So I got bored and left them there,
They were just deadweight to me
Better down the road without that load
Brings back the time when I was eight or nine
I was watchin' my mama's T.V.,
It was that great Grand Canyon rescue episode.

Where the vulture glides descending
On an asphalt highway bending
Thru libraries and museums, galaxies and stars
Down the windy halls of friendship
To the rose clipped by the bullwhip
The motel of lost companions
Waits with heated pool and bar.

But me I'm not stopping there,
Got my own row left to hoe
Just another line in the field of time
When the thrashers comes, I'll be stuck in the sun
Like the dinosaurs in shrines
But I'll know the time has come
To give what's mine.

Friday, November 10, 2006

I've always considered myself a Pessimist. I know it's not a good thing, but I have grown over the years. I've grown into a Pissimist. A PISSED OFF PESSIMIST!!!LOL