Things I Hate To Admit
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
  I've Got A New Winter Olympic Sport...
... It's called "Broom-Hoist."

The setup:
  • Get a standard wood-handled broom. A regular broom, not the push kind.
  • Stand in about ten inches of nice, soft snow below a satellite dish mounted on the roof of a cabin.
  • Hold the end of the broom handle, bristles skyward.
    The goal:
  • Jumping up and down in place, use the broom to knock the accumulated snow out of the dish and off the 'bulb' in the fewest number of tries, while the wind and continued precipitation chucks ice water and lumps of snow off a 100-year-old, 120-foot-tall cedar tree directly above you. Extra 'style' points are gained for bizarre contortions in dodging getting hit in the face by the cedar tree's onslaught.

    I'm pretty sure I could be a contender; doing some intel on the Scandinavian teams is in order... Although those bastards probably have the snazzy heated disks and don't get the practice I do, so I could bring home the gold.
  • Sunday, February 26, 2006
      An Overly-Long Response to Orcinus, vis a vis Nazi Skinheads
    Regarding this post... The following is apparently too long to fit in the 'Comments' section.

    Looking at the Easter egg gig from a behavioral stance, and not a legal one, there is no other way to categorize it than vandalism.

    As a threat against a neighborhood, it certainly stumbles. I mean, what was the point? Was their overarching message, "Okay, get rid of the coons, spics, and slants around here... Or come October, we're leavin' jack-o-lanterns! All carved to look like Heinrich Himmler! And not only will they have more poopy-caca language, we're stuffing 'em with Jenna Jameson DVDs, not just magazine pages ripped out of our porn stash like the eggs had!"

    As a recruitment tool, it doesn't just stumble, it falls flat on its face. Again, what was the point? "Hey kids, if you become a Nazi skinhead, not only do you get to cuss like Marge Schott on speed, but you get to look at lots of pictures of penises and vulvas. Yeah, that's what we're about: racial unity, brotherhood, and access to our vast library of wank-mags.
    "Now, you may think the porn thing is a bit odd... But really, it makes sense. I mean, how many women do you see at our rallies? Yeah, exactly: there ain't a lot of dames around here. Hell, half of us had to drive to Nevada and pay money to lose our virginity. Hell, I won't lie: 'Star Trek' conventioneers get laid more than us.
    "Yup, the Nazi skinhead movement: it's sorta like 'Promise Keepers', only with less praying and heavier on the loud chanting and repressed homosexuality."

    Gutless, gutless. These putzes --- like all vandals --- have to creep around at 3 a.m. to engage in their utterly pointless behavior of choice, lest they get caught and have their asses beaten like a gong... Although I'd put money down on the odds that there were probably five baldheaded chumps shoved into the car when they went distributing eggs; safety (and courage) in numbers and all that. Really, when was the last time you heard of a single Nazi skinhead jumping someone? There's an old joke to this end:

    Q: How many Nazi skinheads does it take to change a light bulb?
    A: Eight. One to change the bulb, the other seven to back him up.

    I'll stop calling Nazi skinheads individual cowards the moment I see one --- all by himself, no carload of mates twenty feet away --- doing his routine in public. Maybe hanging around the front of a Safeway like a March Of Dimes volunteer:
    "Help support white supremacy, ma'am? For a dollar you get one of our 'Wacky Fun Eggs'. Each egg contains various trite racist slogans, seven misspelled ethnic slurs, a minimum of ten profanities, and a color photo of Jesse Jane taking a money shot--- No, sorry, none of the eggs have pictures of Rachel Rotten... Okay, maybe on your way out...?"
    The pen may be mightier than the sword, but sarcasm is mightier than the shotgun. It's easier to get on an airplane, too.

    My Photo
    Location: Western Sierra Nevada Mtns., California, United States

    Okay, I'm not really the ghost of Lenny Bruce. I'm not even Jewish... Although I think my mother was Jewish in a past life; boy could that woman throw a guilt complex. Second-generation California native... Y'know, a descendent of Depression-era hillbilly white trash. I survived a Reagan-era adolescence, thanks to books, punk rock, and Monty Python. Remember Spicoli from "Fast Times at Ridgemont High"? I went to high school with his little brother. Escaped San Diego for the SF Bay Area in 1989; rode out the Loma Prieta quake in a bsmt. apt. in Berkeley. I'm a rabid defender of the 2nd Amendment who promotes socialized medicine and considers police jurisdictions (excluding the CHP) to be tax-funded street gangs and has written in musician/recording engineer Steve Albini for President in the last two elections. I split my votes between Green Party and Libertarian candidates. Treating the event with the dignity it deserved, I voted in the CA recall election wearing full clown makeup and wig. A socio-political schitzophrenic? Oh yes I'm not!

    February 2006 / March 2006 /

    Powered by Blogger