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Friday, October 31, 2003

...Then It Got Better

Ok. Ok. Ok. Ok. Ok.

Ok. Ok. Ok.

Ok.

From the pages of AdAge.com comes the Chewing Gum That Makes Your Nipples Grow. (Register to check it out or use that linky thing to the left).

I'm serious, just about the scariest thing ever.

Posted by: Likes2mtnbike at October 31, 2003 14:48 | link | comments (1)

...But This Guy's Day Was Worse

You know that commercial about being in the "unforgiving spotlight" when you screw up? This guy was there and there with a vengeance. AND Metro-North Railways may seek damages. PILE ON!!

("I will not make fun of New Yorkers. I will not make fun of New Yorkers. I will not make fun of New Yorkers.")

Most Fryheaded Thought Ever

This morning. Watching the tube. Commercial comes on for Yahoo Search. Little red-haird girl is raising her hand from behind a desk with a giant Yahoo searchbar locating "Human Genome Project."  Too late to stop it I'm thinking: "What's up with these human gnomes?" "ARE there human gnomes?" And: "How can a gnome be human and still be a gnome?" "Is this some sort of wacky gnome riddle?" "I used to love riddles...*sigh*." "Oh, I remember one:

"'Thirty white horses on a red hill;

first they champ then they stamp

then they stand still.'"

And then: "An deeeeehn...?" "An deeeeehn?" Next: "How the hell did Ashton Kutchner hook up with Demi Moore, anyway?"

Finally, like Roseanne Roseanneadanna, I blink and I know that it's the Human GENOME Project and I wish I were stoned so at least I'd have some excuse.

Posted by: Likes2mtnbike at October 31, 2003 09:50 | link | comments

Thursday, October 30, 2003

This Just In From Z'Hills

Or: Why Some People Just Make Me Cuss

So I'm sitting in the blogmobile in the northbound left hand turn lane into Wally World. It's a nice Wally World. New. I hate that it's so much closer than my favorite mall in Tampa. But that's not the thing.

The thing is, working in the median is this black guy. He's got on work clothes and has just jumped off a John Deere ATV and started weed-whacking away at the grass. He's got on ear protection, you know, those big-ass headphones. Anyway, he's whacking away like nobodys business. We make eye contact and nod politely. Heavy traffic flowing in the southbound lanes.

All of a sudden this big 'ol, crunchy red truck (You know the kind I mean and I am entitled to point this out because I was born in Alabama, making me born a redneck whether I like it or not-my parents, however, are from Chicago) comes roaring past and you hear a voice holler out:

"NIGGAAAAAAAAAH!"

Can you fucking believe that?

Adding to the Mississippi Burning flavor of the moment was that the guy was wearing those headphones. He didn't even hear the hate that ass-clown spewed.

Excuse my language but sometimes I am just plain embarrassed. Really. I just am.

Posted by: Likes2mtnbike at October 30, 2003 22:12 | link | comments

Another Sign of the End Times

Ok, I'll admit I don't wear jeans often. They make my ass look big. But, then, so does everything else.

That said, take a look at what's going on at the Levi's factory. Let me know if you were as affected by this story as I was.

*Sniff*

Posted by: Likes2mtnbike at October 30, 2003 13:22 | link | comments

And, and, and...AARGH!

You know, all I want to do is sit and drink my coffee and read the news. Really. That's all. I swear.

It's my mom's fault, if you want to know, my being a news junkie. When we were kids there was a little television in the kitchen and the only thing allowed on during dinner was the news-to be discussed over dessert (yes, I came from one of those families-I recognize that I was very lucky-mom even made breakfast and picked us up after school). Staunch r(I REfuse to capitalize that "r")epublicans, mom and dad. Very firm in their beliefs. Taught me to be the same way. Well, except for the staunch republican part.

That is why this crap about giving away money to Iraq just pisses me off. Well, not exactly why but pretty much why. Mostly why. Oh hell, it just really does.

There, I said it. Soon the hounds of hell will be unleashed and the administration will have my phone bugged, my computer monitored and Blogdog's license revoked (she can drive in Pasco county).

The AP reports today that the "loan" part of lending money to one of the oil-richest nations in the universe has been turned in to "grant." Yup. Seems as though King George has twisted enough arms in Congress to keep Iraq off the hook in terms of repayment.

All I'm hearing in my head is Nancy Kerrigan: "Whyyyy? Whyyyy?"

I guess it's because the economy is going so swell now (swelly?). Or else it's just another sign...

Posted by: Likes2mtnbike at October 30, 2003 10:42 | link | comments

Still More Signs...

So were we the only ones to experience widespread weirdness during that geomagnetic storm yesterday? Blogdog spent the whole day whining and looking at the sky. That's not unusual but what is unusual is that she was hovering about ten feet off the ground.

I kept tuning the satellite to Xena and getting Queer Eye For the Straight Guy.

Was it just me? Please say no, dear bloggers. And if anyone sees the Blogdog send her home.

Thanks.

Posted by: Likes2mtnbike at October 30, 2003 10:12 | link | comments

More Signs the World Has Gone Mad, I Tell You, Mad

Previously, I had been wondering why in the world a bachelor's degree would put me in contention for a customer service job. Now I wonder why I never learned to play professional baseball.

Apparently, Manny Ramirez of the Red Sox spoke too softly and didn't carry a big enough stick this year. So they waived him. Like I care. What I do care about is the fact that this guy could easily pay off the national debt himself (well, maybe with some help from Derek Jeter) with the salary the Sox pay him and he wimps out over a sore throat mid-season. This guy is gonna make 20.5 million dollars next season, whoever he plays for. 20.5 MILLION DOLLARS. C'mon, say it with me like Dr. Evil: "Twenty point five MEEELLION DOLLARS! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!"

Really, I thought I was reading News of the Weird. But it was staid ol' MSNBC. Here's the whole story (gak). Read it just to get your blood going on this cool, cool morning.

Posted by: Likes2mtnbike at October 30, 2003 09:54 | link | comments

Wednesday, October 29, 2003

Uffish/Cho

Thank Gawd for Lady Uffish at the blog Uffish Thoughts. In frequenting her site I discovered a blog by Margaret Cho-whom I have slept with (that is just the biggest lie-I was feeling a little Bloomberg this morning).

Uffish Thoughts is witty, hilarious, knee-slappin'-all those multi-syllabic words that mean you're just gonna tinkle with glee after perusing her, well, uffish thoughts.

And Margaret Cho... What more do I need to say? Check 'em out. Or I'll sic the shoe guy on you.

Posted by: Likes2mtnbike at October 29, 2003 11:03 | link | comments (1)

You WILL Be Assimilated

More good news out of Washington. A federal appeals court has declared all analog televisions must be digital by 2007. Hopefully this won't turn out to be another metric system scam because if I start saving now I just might be able to afford one of those $800 babies by then.

My question is: will there be a "ripped from the headlines" episode of Law and Order covering this?

Taco Flavored Kisses For My Bloomberg

New York City mayor Michael Bloomberg, in a charming display of tackiness, declared Tuesday "...my date with Jennifer Lopez" day. Bloggerel assumes Mr. Bloomberg remembers that Jen and Ben come (heh heh) as a package.

Posted by: Likes2mtnbike at October 29, 2003 09:00 | link | comments (1)

Tuesday, October 28, 2003

More on the Despicable Mr. Phelps

Finally the internet catches up with me. Here's more on the political nuttiness going on in Casper, Wyoming.

Posted by: Likes2mtnbike at October 28, 2003 20:50 | link | comments (1)

Just Plain Despicable

It wasn't enough for straight-boy maniacs to kill Matthew Shephard. It wasn't enough for groups of fanatics to stand across the street during his funeral holding placards foaming "God Hates Fags" and "Queers Go To Hell." No, that wasn't enough. We now have this.

Every, single day I open my eyes an hope-ok, sometimes I even pray-that the world has somehow magically transformed itself overnight. Today I poured a big 'ol cup of coffee, went outside with the blogdogs and drank in the beauty of the early morning fall. Sandhill cranes slid across the sky, horses called out from acres away, the air was sweet and the day filled with unlimited potential.

Then I read about Fred Phelps.

I don't say any prayers for him. Neither should you. There's a lot to be said for redemption but this man just isn't worth the effort.

'Nuff said.

My Choos, My Choos

Check out this story out of Japan. I'm thinking it's because he was dating a pedally challenged woman named Irene.

Charged Particle-age...

Just when you thought it was safe to go outside comes this, complements of the sun. Leave your cellphone home, bring your satellites in and for God's sake, take out those piercings!

Groanage...

I went in search of still more stupidity and can you believe I found some? Bushisms, by Jacob Weisberg @ The Slate. Give me a homeless French gnome any day.

Gnomage...

Suddenly, there was with the Blogger a multitude of the stupid, strange and supurfluous, praising the internet and saying: "Where the hell are my gnomes, n'cest pas?"

Poopage...

And in case you were wondering to yourself, "Self," (you wonder aloud), "Isn' there anything stupid to savage today?" Along comes this timely, interesting and thoroughly choice piece of investigative journalism.

Help! My eyes are stuck mid-roll.

Posted by: Likes2mtnbike at October 28, 2003 12:44 | link | comments (4)

Monday, October 27, 2003

Bushwhacking

If there ever was any doubt that dementia runs in the Bush family, I present to you: Jeb !

Posted by: Likes2mtnbike at October 27, 2003 18:02 | link | comments

The Revenge of FrankenFriendster

What of this Friendster phenomenon? Have you heard about this? Do you Friendster? Are you a Friendster? Are your friends Friendsters? And what about Naomi...? Friendster, for those of you who don't waste a lot of time net surfing (And why should you? I do it for you, dear bloggers.), is the latest craze out of-where else-New York that seems to be a strange combination of classmates.com and capture the flag.

One does not "join" Friendster. One is "invited" by someone. That someone generally being at least 12 degrees of separation away from you or one (or more) of your friends or colleagues. These connections create a web-if you will-of Friendsters to whom you are somehow related (is that right?). You can have "activity partners" or potential relationships. You can meet or not meet. Friendster is being touted as a "new" and refreshing (like Coke?) way to create a network of friends and associates built on common relationships.

Huh?

Is it my suburban mentality or is there just something moronic about this whole idea? Given that most of the press seems to be emanating from New York City, I'm assuming this whole internet-dating-meeting-romancing thing is working pretty well for them up there. They're crowded, lots of competition for both men and women, probably nearly impossible to get a table at a bar on Friday night and, let's face it, that reputation for-let me put it kindly-plain-spokenness probably doesn't do a lot for face-to-face hookups in the Big Apple. That and this new environment where kids are raised expressing themselves online, seemingly without shame or reservation: "Let me tell you about myself...PLEASE!"

Is this working in Tampa? Are we a Friendster-friendly city? Do we collect "friends" online like some sort of cyber- Where's Waldo? Or do we still do it the old fashioned way: "Hey, Betty, it's Baldwin-Mark's friend. He said you might be interested in catching a movie sometime."

I mean, what is so hard about that?

It was AOL that started me feeling a tid uncomfortable with the internet. What with all those "Wanna cyber?" instant messages and e-mail overshares, who wouldn't have moved on to another ISP? But Friendster.com and it's ilk follow you everywhere, like the Looney Tunes cartoon with the devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other. A site created for lonely people who have social adjustment issues. And there are so many! That's the sad thing. Sites designed to appeal to the crowd who never could make good eye contact, who never could express themselves in a verbally intelligible manner, who never could hold their liquor. So now they have somewhere to go (virtually, not literally) to sit in front of a webcam, get drunk and try to fit their hands into their mouths.

I dunno (shakes head) I just dunno. I guess I'd just rather be a friend than a Friendster. I'd prefer a call from my friends instead of an invitation to join them in Friendstership. I'd rather get drunk and spill my guts and chase people away in person rather than Friendster them to death. I'd rather be able to name my very best friends on one or two hands than have to go online to remind myself who is who and why do I know them (or want to).

But that's just me.

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She's a woman.
She's a former stockbroker.
She's successful.
She screwed up and got caught.
She's a bitch.



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Posted by: Likes2mtnbike at October 27, 2003 10:24 | link | comments (4)

Sunday, October 26, 2003

Sunday Surfing...

So, nothing interesting has been happening lately? Let's see: they removed Terri Schiavo's feeding tube and crammed it back in again. What that girl needs is a large Jamocha shake injection and a couple good friends to poke her husband in the head and slap some sense into her parents. Hint, hint: allegations of spousal abuse.

What else? Did anybody hear that Paul Wolfowitz (Deputy Defense Secretary-and why, exactly, is that supposed to be capitalized?) dodged a bomb in Iraq? Log on, it's everywhere-just like Justin Timberlake. I'll bet that bomb was hand-made, had his name engraved on it and was part of a larger plot which Mr. Wolfowitz (not to be confused with Wolf Blitzer-fake name, fake name) himself foiled single-handedly. And I'm sure the administration will be telling us ALL about it soon ("Don't you just love your new boyfriend...?").

I'm job-hunting. Again. That pretty much says it all. When you get to be my age and looking for work only one thought comes to mind: "Why does a customer service representative need a bachelor's degree?" But then, after that, another thought intrudes: "Do I really, really, really aspire to customer service? Isn't that a lot like the Hospitality Hostesses from high school? Or is that receptionist?" Actually, that was three intruding questions, but then, I AM the Bart Simpson of the job world. More on this escapade as it unfolds. I'm sure there is MUCH humor to be mined from the employment rounds. Sure there is.

And one last, great thing. The Tampa City Council voted Thursday to allow alcohol sales at Tampa International Airport (try saying that three times drunk) beginning at 7am on Sundays. This was, ostensibly, to give fliers to more "cosmopolitan" destinations (like, say, Miami?) the ability to start hosing early at TIA. What? And skip church? New dilemma: wait until 11am and drive 2 minutes to the corner store or skip church and party down with the goober-smoochers at TIA? Wait! I already skip church! For this I'm qualified! Thank-you, Tampa City Council, for giving the demon drink equal time on Sundays. Can I get an amen?

Posted by: Likes2mtnbike at October 26, 2003 10:55 | link | comments

Wednesday, October 15, 2003

Good-bye Terri

Terri Schiavo is going to die today. Well, not today. Today her feeding tube, in place for 13 years following a heart attack at age 26, will be removed and she will be allowed to starve to death.

Her parents may not be allowed by her husband and legal guardian to visit during her departure. After years of legal manuvering, in an attempt to allow their daughter to live out the remainder of her life, her parents may not even be able to hold her hand as she dies.

Her husband, and many medical experts, believe Terri to be in a persistent vegitative state. He claims a stated desire not to be kept alive under such circumstances. Her parents, often resorting to extreme measures and non-traditional medicine, think that she has at least some cognitive function and believe that their daughter would want to live under such circumstances.

Yes, there's money involved. A settlement was reached and the money is there for her lifetime care. It will fall to Michael Schiavo following her death.

Her husband has said to the press that it's time to allow Terri to die "with dignity" and everyone to move on with their lives. He is ready to remarry. He and Terri are not divorced.

This is not a "right-to-life" issue, nor is it a "death-with-dignity" issue. The saga of Terri Schiavo is a story of ownership. That's right. The argument over Terri's condition has crystallized itself into an unavoidable debate on the apparent ownership of women by their husbands. The idea that this woman somehow lost all right to the support of her parents once she married-that they lost all right to support and legally care for their own daughter.

I'll say it again: their own daughter.

Terri's husband was appointed her legal guardian. He is to protect her and make decisions for her based on what he knows of her wishes. She has living, blood-related parents (and siblings) who have no say in her care or denial thereof. She, apparently, never made a living will.

I don't know why Michael Schiavo was granted legal guardianship. But this entire, shameful, heart-wrenching episode will be over in a matter of days as Terri is allowed to slip away. Her parents, at Michaels whim, risk not being there as their daughter dies due to their release this week of a videotape made against his wishes. The tape appears to show Terri reacting, moving her head in the direction of her mother's voice.

I don't dispute Terri Schiavo has a right to die. But absent a living will? I grant that her husband is her legal guardian. But why? Why put someone in the position of making such a momentous decision who stands to benefit financially-however distasteful that may seem? Her parents have said they love her and want to care for Terri for what's left of her life. She is being treated as property. And that's no way to make a life-or-death decision.

Good-bye Terri.

Posted by: Likes2mtnbike at October 15, 2003 06:59 | link | comments