Drinky Joe Proves That There's Nothing He Can't Fail At

Joe is incapable of doing anything.
The basics of recycling? Nope. Cleaning? No way. Yard-work? Are you high?
His ONE job around the house is to open the door around 3PM to let the dog out, and then make sure the dog comes back inside for a treat. Well, today he somehow managed to fuck THAT up.
I get a call from Drinky at about 4:45 saying that the dog won't listen to him, and is in the neighbors' yard - He wants me to come home to let the dog in the fucking house so that he can leave for his exciting career of "busboy". After much mumbling under my breath I jet from work over an hour early (with work unfinished) to come home and do the simplest fucking task for this idjit.

As I walk in the door at home (30 minutes later) I get a call from Drinky:
Drinky: "I can't find Milo."
Me: "What the fuck, how can you lose him when he's in the fucking yard with you?
Drinky: "I went inside."
Me: "I'm home, I got this. Leave for work now, before I shoot you."

I hop in the Jeep and start scouring the neighborhood for the fucking dog when I get a call from the local library saying that they have Milo. The library is located on the other side of a busy 4 lane highway.
I'm going to kill that useless Guinea-Dago bastard.
So the dog is fine. He got plenty of attention from the librarians, and maybe even a little bit of studying done while he was there. Me, I'm livid.

If anyone knows of a retarded child in my neighborhood that could take over Drinky's responsibilities, I'd be much obliged. And if anyone's in the market for the world's laziest Wop, give me a ring - I have one that is priced to move.

Not a "Team Player"

Yeah, I'm an e-pussy.
I just learned that the reason I've been doing so much work for the previously-mentioned entity is because this is a big-money client that we're trying like hell to land. I'd be screwed if (somehow) my damned blog queered the deal. Sorry.

Please accept this picture of the Cowboy Monkey as restitution for the pulled entry*:

* And Ed, feel free to make "pulled entry" jokes.

Reason Why I'm an Idiot # 3028

I realize that the blog has been fairly sparse lately, but I've been slammed at work for the past couple of weeks. To make things worse; I did a web-page mock-up for a client meeting, thus alerting my firm of a hidden talent. Now the office has been tasking me with graphic design work (with more to come). Since the firm won't spring for Photoshop, I get to do all of that work from home. Fuck, I'm dumb.

Anyway, tonight after work I'm heading down to the Big Hunt for a few beers with the guys from Flogging Molly (Chaz's friends), and then I may check out their show tonight at the 9:30 Club. Tomorrow is My Life With the Thrill Kill Cult at Black Cat; until then I'm just working for the weekend (which I'll most likely spend working).

Signage

This afternoon I crapped out a new sign for the Big Hunt. This only took about 15 min including set-up and an exhaustive tutorial on how to shoot a photo for Joe, but I'm quite pleased with the results. Enjoy, and make sure to keep your drinks off the felt.

Holy Shit!

Everyone, prepare to be jealous.

I was just going through my mail, and look what I got:

It's a Gen-U-Wine scam letter from Africa. Not a lousy e-mail, but a tangible hold-in-your-hands communique from the dark continent. Check out the South African stamps, and please control your envy.

If you want to get a better look at this sucker, here's a link: http://static.flickr.com/32/99411299_4b760f4ae0_o.jpg

I'm Dying Here

Man, I've been in a really foul mood lately due to a convergence of disappointing factors:
a) I'm taking a prescription that won't let me drink, b) The Girl has (apparently) undertaken a vow of abstinence, and c) They have passed smoking bans in DC and Chicago. It seems like the gods are conspiring to rob me of every little thing that brings me joy.

Understandably, I've been gothing-out lately and thinking a lot about death and dying. After giving this much thought, I'd like to share with you:

The 10 Most Likely Ways How I Will Die
10) In a Hail of Bullets
9) Drown in an Apple-Bobbing Mishap
8) Trampled to Death When I Find Myself Between Aaron Carter and a Herd of Tweenage Girls
7) Disemboweled by a Decorative Lawn Ornament in High Winds
6) Shouting "Look What I Can Do!"
5) Alone in a Cavernous Mansion, Clutching a Snow-globe, Remembering Innocence Lost
4) Septic Shock Due to the Hording of Stray Dagos
3) Stabbed in Sleep By Girlfriend After She Reads This
2) Shot By Vice President Cheney
1) Tongue Frozen to Railroad Track, Somehow

When I'm gone remember me well - and, for the sake of all that is holy, make sure that none of my worldly possessions go to the poor.

Puked on the Train... Again

And to top it all off, my Drinkin' Bag had a hole in it. Said hole was facing me.
If my best-laid-plans could fail so spectacularly, I fear that there is little hope for the preparedness campaign being waged by the Department of Homeland Security.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to put my clothes in the dryer.

What the Hell Is Wrong With Black Folks?

Sony Root-Kit Wrap-Up

For any of you that are interested, Bruce Sterling wrote a great summation of the Sony fiasco and its possible ramifications in the corporate-tech world.

Read the Wired article.


(Sony taproot graphic by Sevensheaven)

Happy Birthday Jimmy!

In observance of his birthday, I've included a pic of Mr. Jimmy being mauled by a wild stripper. If you're in Milwaukee today, be sure to buy him a drink (or 9).

Random Debris

Just wanted to get a couple of miscellaneous things out there:

1) Still have plenty of the mix CDs left, if anyone wants one (or knows someone who wants one). Just shoot me an e-mail (if you have it), or out over e-pissy with your full mailing info. If you don't have my e-mail address you can get it from (most) anybody from the DeKalb crew or the Gunderblogger. If none of this makes any sense to you; sorry.

2) I've done a couple of updates on older posts, so if you're really bored you can scan the recent posts for some new stuff.

J-Pop Break

Okay, I realize I've been on a tear lately and ranting on the things that are pissing me off. I think it's time to do a "happy" post to help clear the smoke outta the e-room here. So, here's something that I've really enjoyed recently.

Kamikaze Girls
by Tetsuya Nakashima

I'll let the guy from Amazon sum this one up. He does a pretty good job:

Editorial Reviews
Amazon.com

Kooky, kinetic, and colorful, 2004's Kamikaze Girls is a delight, and one that could only have come from Japan. Our principal character and narrator is Momoko (Kyoko Fukada), the 17-year-old product of a highly dysfunctional marriage who wishes she'd lived in 18th Century France, during the Rococo age; instead, she and her bonnets and frilly dresses are stuck in Japan's rural outback, where she abides by a philosophy that claims, "If I can't live independently, I'd rather be a water flea." Enter Ichigo (Anna Tsuchiya), a tough-talking, head-butting, scooter-riding thug who doesn't know rococo from rock & roll, and whom the haughty Momoko deplores and mostly ignores--at least until they're brought together by, of all things, embroidery (Momoko's good at it, Ichigo needs some for her biker threads). Suffice it to say that these two oddballs form a union of sorts, and Kamikaze Girls (entitled Shimotsuma Monogatari in Japanese) ultimately delivers a fairly straightforward message about independence, loneliness, and friendship. But getting there is quite a trip. Director and co-writer Tetsuya Nakashima combines live action, animation, special effects, fourth-wall asides, fantasy sequences, and more in a dazzling onslaught of images; in that way, as well as in its overall outlook ("Humans are cowards in the face of happiness," says one character), the film is somewhat reminiscent of Amelie. True, Kamikaze Girls lacks the full measure of that French film's grace, heart, and charm. But for sheer imaginativeness and cinematic virtuosity, this one's hard to beat.
--Sam Graham

All I'd have to add is this is possibly the MOST Japanese movie ever made. It's filled with so much kinetic energy that if unleashed all at once it probably would level Nagasaki. A genuinely fun film. Check it out if you can find it.

And, Hey, I made it through a whole post (mostly copied from Amazon) without swearing. Fuck, Yeah!
Oh, dammit.... nevermind.

Fuck 'em if They Can't Take a Joke

Oh, boo-hoo they drew our prophet... WAAAH! Ok, let's burn down another sizable chunk of our shit-hole country.

What a bunch of fucking twats.

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a miserable misanthropic prick. I hate humanity in general, but there is a special pit in my bowels for the fucking Islamic fundamentalists.

I have lived in several diverse regions of this country, and have been fortunate enough to consider individuals from every conceivable ethnicity and religion as friends - except for Muslims. Every single Muslim I've met has been has been a smug, unpleasant, sexist, homophobic, self-righteous prick. There hasn't been one Muslim that I've had the displeasure of enduring for more than 5 minutes that I haven't wanted to kick in their teeth. I can only speak for the men I've met (I guess they don't let their lady folk out of their kennels for social occasions). This goes for ALL those cocksuckers; be they brown, yellow, black, or white - they all fucking suck ass.

It's a shame that we even have to deal with these pricks. I wish that the billions of dollars we were funneling into the Middle-Eastern wars could instead be invested into alternate fuel source research, so that we could be rid of the whole mess.

I just don't think any good can come from our work in that region (remember when the Taliban and Iraq were our allies?). These people don't want democracy, and they sure as shit don't want equality or tolerance. I say let them rot. Hell, If I had it my way, all of the land from Russia south to Africa and from Bulgaria east to China would be referred to as "Israel" on all maps. Let them choke on that.

Muhammad f'in Allah, what a bunch of pussies and cry-babies.

Super Happy Fun PSP Porno, Respectfully Please

If it has to do with video games, pornography, and the Japanese - The Girl will find it.
Here's a J-ad she found for a new "adult" UMD line for the PSP. I'd recommend enlarging and paying special notice to the crotchular region (in the pic below, you perv).

Here's a link to the larger image: http://www.flickr.com/photo_zoom.gne?id=96808117&size=l or http://www.kotaku.com/gaming/psp/pspriapism-152355.php

Drinky Joe - Seduced to Sleep by the Siren Song of the Sectional Sofa

At about 4am this morning I was roused from a deep slumber by someone outside fumbling with the locks. I awoke to find myself on the couch. Damn all that tasty liquor (see Puppy Bowl post).
Anyway, in the 5 minutes it took me to get up off the couch and pour a glass of Pedialyte (the best hang-over preventative) Joe had fallen asleep in my place on the couch - Once again.
I grabbed the camera, shot the pic, and was rewarded with a "disk full" message. Yup, it's time for another round of Drinky Joe pics - Series nine is complete. Here's a taste:

Go on down to the Drinky Joe space for the mother-lode of pics. It's like a cyber petting zoo, for all of your drunken Dago viewing needs.

Why America Is Destined To Fail

I was skipping through a field of epissy this morning and was amazed at the number of people referencing Animal Planet's Puppy Bowl II.

For those of you not "in the know" this program is 3 hours of puppies playing. It was run before, during, and after the Super Bowl.

What the fuck is wrong with America? No wonder people hate us so much; it's hard to empathize with a nation who would stare at the most intellectually void pablum for hours on end. Fuck, even I want to attack us. This is nothing more than a Hallmark Card bowel movement, and I can't see anyone other than Jean Teasdale even tolerating this crap for more than a microsecond...

-um, well-

So, I was watching Puppy Bowl II last night, after the game, when I realized two things:

1) Puppies are cute.

2) I'm really fucking smashed, and my living room seems to be spinning at unsafe speeds.

Yeah, it got me for about a half-hour. I blame it on my party guests' unwillingness to do lemon Jello shots, thus leaving me with about a dozen (left-over) liquor filled treats to kill. That and the insane amounts of beer.

Today, I'm stuck at work with a Bukowski-worthy hang over, and a sense of liquor induced puppy shame that just won't go away. I think that I'm gonna have to watch "The Sorrow and the Pity" tonight as a penance for my indiscretions. I suggest you all do the same. And, I'll see you all at "Puppy Bowl III" next year. I'll bring the Jello shots.

Drinky Joe Has A Posse

I had a 7:30 meeting this morning. I woke up at 5:30AM to find this:

Sweet Christ, they're replicating!

It's Groundhog Day, and much like the Bill Murray movie of the same name, Joe is reliving the same day over and over. The difference being; the rest of the world isn't stuck in the same groove. Today, Mr. Matt joins the sectional couch players in the Andie MacDowell role.

As of press time there was no word on whether or not Joe saw his shadow.

King for a Day...

Note (2/8/06): This is a re-working of an unpublished post that was written January 31st. The original came off as too confrontational, mean-spirited, and a little name-droppy. If I was smart I'd just let it die, but we all know better than that. I still feel that there are important issues that no one seems to be addressing, and it's driving me nuts.
---
I feel that Coretta Scott King has done more to hinder the civil rights movement than she has done to advance the cause. I realize that she was with MLK for the entirety of his civil rights work, but what she did after his death is wholly unacceptable. She (through her lawyers) has been the driving force in restricting all of MLK's speeches, writings, and image from any source not willing to shell out big money for the materials.

It seems that she has done more to obfuscate her late husband's message than she has done to promote it. Her litigious maneuvering has kept Dr. King's message out of numerous educational entities, Documentaries, and civil rights materials. It seems that her only consideration for the memory of MLK was how much money could be made off of his work. For Christ's sake, She even sold the "I Have a Dream" speech to Apple computers, and allowed them to fucking alter it, for a Super-Bowl commercial.

Am I wrong? Was it another Coretta Scott King that ran the MLK Foundation into the ground while becoming personally wealthy? Has she done anything vaguely helpful to advance her husband's work since his death? Because I don't see it.

Just because someone is related to an important figure, doesn't mean a god damned thing about that person as an individual (trust me). Your actions should determine your worth, not just who you fucked. That should be self-evident.

Anyone, anyone... hello? I guess I'm alone on this one.

T-Shit

I'm sure you've all heard about the fiascoes that went down at last night's State of the Union address. For all of you who are allergic to media, here's a brief synopsis: Cindy Sheehan (Ms. left wing darling) was arrested for wearing an anti-war t-shirt, and the wife of Congressman Bill Young (R-FL) was ejected for wearing a "Support our Troops" sweatshirt.

Left wingers are screaming "Censorship", and stretching the word "Orwellian" to its breaking point.

Right wingers are screaming "Overzealous Security", and accusing the Capitol Police of hating freedom.

I was at the State of the Union at the Capitol last night, was there for the whole fiasco (which I failed to notice), and all I have to say on the subject is: "Who the fuck wears a t-shirt, or sweatshirt, to the mother-lovin' State of the Union?" - Fucking peasants. Did they have to rush back from a tractor-pull to make it to the Capitol? This is the State of the Fucking Union, not a god-damned Hootie & the Blowfish concert - You fucking simps.

Now, don't get me wrong, I own a SHITLOAD (shirtload?) of t-shirts. I love my t-shirts, but have enough goddamn sense to know when they're appropriate, and when they're not. I'm constantly on Capitol Hill, but I wouldn't even THINK of going up here without a suit jacket. If it's 110 degrees out and I'm heading up to a laid-back reception; I'm in a suit. It's a simple matter of decorum. If you can't be bothered to dress appropriately, you shouldn't be granted entrance to the building; regardless of who you are.

I'd go so far as to implement a universal dress code for the Capitol Building. I can't count the number of fucking tourists parading through in shorts and flip-flops in the Summer months - It's a disgrace to the building and the ideals it stands for. The heart of our government should, at the very fucking least, be as picky as your average upscale titty-bar.

I know that these women weren't kicked out because of dress code, but if you go to an event like this in casual clothing you get what you deserve. I don't fucking believe that I even have to talk about this - it's ridiculous. Have a sense of decency you hillbillies, then we'll talk about your rights. Freedom of speech, my aching ass.

Fear of Blogging

I don't know what's gotten into me lately; I'm turning into a huge pussy.
Yesterday I wrote a post on the death of Coretta Scott King, but shelved it due to the controversial tone. Today I started to write a post on the State of the Union speech, but scrapped it for similar reasons...

(2/8/6) Update:
Fuck that. I'm over it. Check out a redacted KSC posting (above) - I'll get around to doing the SotU/Isolationist post later this week.
I figured that after the "Fuck 'em" post everything else would seem relatively tame, so now you have to deal with all my crap.