Showing posts with label You've Got To Be F-ing Kidding Me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label You've Got To Be F-ing Kidding Me. Show all posts

Monday, September 23, 2013

"My gun right is more important than your dead."



Aaron Weiss, thank you for your service.

In the same breath, I mourn how common sense has left the building. The ability of a growing segment to see beyond rigid black and white seems to be gone. We apparently no longer understand how "my (gun) right is more important than your dead" is apples/oranges because we don't exist to own guns.  We exist to survive. All we really have is our skin, bones, organs and brain, and when they no longer function, we’re finished.  A gun is just a lifeless piece of metal, no more, no less.

I simply can't relate to those who prioritize an inanimate object over a life.  Any society that fosters such priorities will soon be represented by an epitaph.  I can't help but think that if Jesus were alive today, he'd blow a gasket.  Guns just weren't his thing.

If the first minute or so of this speech weren't enough to lose me, that moment came when he compared the imprisonment of an entire race of Americans to a state law that can be changed at the ballot box.  Such a jagged break from reality is hard to fathom.

Mr. Weiss' dramatic suggestion that legislators be forced to enter a crime scene before law enforcement officers leads me to believe he isn't even really a cop.  Legislators don’t enforce laws.  Further, police don’t have the luxury of enforcing only the laws they agree with.

Aaron Weiss is being paraded as a hero for 'telling it like it is.'  I believe he's probably more like a decent guy who is wildly misled. The Constitution protects our right to bear arms, but common sense dictates that we qualify that protection the same way we qualify many other rights.  I believe our Forefathers had no clue what kind of firearms we would eventually invent.

If someone said “my right to freedom from religion in schools and government buildings is more important than your dead family”, I suspect that those who gobble up this gun rights candy would bring out the pitchforks.  But remember, both rights are enumerated in the Bill of Rights.

Lately it seems my blog has become a repository for essays about our lack of social conscience and the ignorance of many who are charged with the responsibility of voting.  Count Mr. Weiss as another example.  Meanwhile, it would serve all Americans to remember that there is a word that comes before “liberty, and the pursuit of happiness”.

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As I was writing this, my mother-in-law was staring down the business end of a shotgun in her own neighborhood, at the hands of a psycho who lost his mind over a group of pranking kids.  When she tried to escape, he shot.  He's now in jail and she's trying to regain her sanity and get the damage to her car fixed.  She's very lucky his aim was off.

Friday, January 30, 2009

The secret to longevity? Apparently hyperbole.

The Jack LaLaine Power Juicer infomercial somehow made it on my monitor in the studio this morning, and for a nanosecond I turned up the sound.

A perfectly healthy, beautiful woman came on and said "I couldn't live without my juicer."

Couldn't. Live.

He's saving lives with juice! Could I live without one? I can't imagine.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

How the mighty have fallen...

A few friends and I threw together an impromptu Boys Night Out tonight. We all have kids, so it's hard to go out and cut loose often.

Right after our kids' bedtime, we decided to rendezvous at a local dive called Ethyl's. It was crowded with a couple of Christmas parties, the music was really loud and it was entirely too smokey to enjoy.

There was also a hint of a possibility of sobriety checkpoints near Ethyl's, so we did the only sane thing - went to a place closer to home.

A bowling alley.

We hung out in the lounge* right under the wall of plaques commemorating members of the '300 club.' Ironically, we were poking fun at the names on the plaques while we WERE IN A BOWLING ALLEY DRINKING ON A FRIDAY NIGHT.

After a pitcher or three, it was nearing two of the guys' strict midnight curfew, so at 11:55 we were out the door.

And I'm all like "wow, you guys are pussies to have to be home so early." Like saying this somehow made me feel superior.

Yes, this is what it's come to. A bunch of 40-somethings trying to find a place where the music isn't quite so loud, the smoke not so thick, where we could stay out of trouble and avoid the cops.

And be home in time to keep the peace.

By the way, we still had fun, even though it didn't conclude as per normal - dining at 4 am at the Casa de Waffle.


*doesn't "bowling alley lounge" invoke an interesting mental picture? Can you almost smell the cigarette smoke, stale beer, Tombstone pizza and rental shoes?

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

White hood optional

During Barack Obama's acceptance speech last night, I received a text from a "friend," Keith Mc... eh, I won't include his entire name. This is an unedited transcript, so if you're easily offended stop reading here.
Keith: I officially hate all niggers!
Me: Dude, you're a fucking idiot. Don't ever text me again.
Keith: Whatever u say nigger lover. Peace out
Me: Burn those bridges dude. Light the flame. Just don't text me again.
I wonder what Keith thinks about Obama's white half.

It wasn't the first racist thing he'd texted me, but until last night, I ignored and deleted them. Keith is young and somewhat ambitious, but he was obviously raised in an atmosphere of racism. The sad thing is, he has a one-year-old daughter who, it seems, will be raised in similar circumstances.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Crash, bang, crack 'em up, put 'em back again



Sometimes I think our two vehicles are unwitting toys in a huge Smash-Up Derby.

As I was wiping off the front of the van after a wash a few days ago, I discovered it had been hit. Less than three thousand miles on it and it's already in the body shop.

Damn, that's all.

I'd love to have one of those dash cams and get the license plate of the person who hit the van. It would be lovely to send Officer Friendly to visit them and extract the $1,600 it's going to cost to fix the grill and bumper.

I'm a freak about taking care of a vehicle. I keep them clean, change the oil when it's needed and repair the least little thing that breaks. You pay a lot for a car so you might as well keep it ship shape.

Here are a few tips. You shouldn't have to touch the outside of your car unless you're washing it. Rubbing up against it causes scratches, and sitting metal or hard plastic items on the hood harms the paint.

The cups they give you at McDonalds leak, so if they're left in the cupholder, expect a sticky mess. (While we're on the subject of cupholders, they aren't change repositories.) Leaving bug juice on your car long-term will cause permanent marks. The trunk isn't a mobile storage space.

Don't get me wrong, I still leave shit in the trunk and an occasional cup in the cupholder. My bad!

Monday, July 14, 2008

Hungry? Eat your People Magazine

It was announced today that photos of the new Brangelina twins were in such demand that People Magazine is paying eleven million dollars for the rights to publish them exclusively.

Eleven, then six zeroes.

What has America become? While I realize the money will go to charity as a requirement from Angelina, it's simply unfathomable that in this society, photos of these children are in such demand. It's almost perverse...

Monday, July 07, 2008

In a bit of a (toe) jam

This gets the award for the grossest story of the week:

LINK (courtesy StLToday.com)

"The dog chewed off the toe and part of the toe joint and also severed an artery. Floyd said there had been an adhesive bandage on the toe because she had a hangnail."
Apparently the moral of the story is, if you're diabetic, suffer neuropathy and own a dog, you should wear steel-toed boots to bed.

I tasted bile as I read this story. The dog was euthanized... but apparently got his choice of final meal.


"Bad dog! BAD DOG!!! NO biscuit."