Sports Not Related to Football (or Huey Lewis)

Preface: I started working on this 'mega post' right after the Super Bowl last month, and let it sit as a draft since then.
I figured that I should get off my ass and finish it up before baseball season started and before hockey season ended. So, Here you go.
Now that the 2007 NFL season is a good six months away (Go Bears!), every red-blooded 'Merican male is forced to choose another sport to follow, lest he spend his weekend up on the roof cleaning out the gutters. I will watch ANY televised NFL game - Cleveland Browns -vs- the Arizona Cardinals on ESPN? Bring it on; I'm so there. Football is our true love, but if you can't be with the one you love... well, you know the rest. We get to be more discerning with our sports mistresses - Get all up into something different. These are the awkward one-night-stands and torrid flings of the sporting world. Even though they're not loved unconditionally, they can be a hell of a lot of fun.
Okay, not that everyone is sufficiently creeped out by my analogy, I present The Liar's Best 5 Sports That Aren't Football:

5) Mixed Martial Arts*
Is this really a sport? Well, I'm going on what very little I've seen.
I caught the Showtime EliteXC match on February 10th. Here are my thoughts on that:
It took awhile for me to stop giggling once the program started. The main hallway from which all of the fighters emerged was a giant smoking dragon's head that shot fire - It was straight from the 1983 Ronnie James Dio "Capture the Renegade Wizard" tour (if I'm not mistaken). All of the on-screen graphics had more black tribal designs on 'em than on a Slipknot roadie, or Maori warrior. Not off to a good start.
Then the fights began. It was incredible. I'm an old wrestler and Judo student, so I was transfixed. The athletics involved were incredible and the fights were absolutely engrossing. The high-point of the event was the Gina Carano Julie Kedzie undercard match. At first a women's match seemed gimmicky, but I was so wrong. I have NEVER seen a fight with two competitors with such skill, spirit, endurance, drive, and sportsmanship. Society has somehow managed to sexualize all female fighting, so it was an unexpected surprise to see two great Muay Thai fighters who just happened to be women. Plus, their sportsmanship before, after, and during the fight made all of the other fighters look petty and small. Fucking brilliant. If you have Showtime and see this being replayed on the schedule, be sure to check it out.
Apparently, there are about 4 or 5 different promotional leagues for 'mixed martial arts'. If they can get everything together, cut the hokey WWEsque showmanshit, and bring together a unified league with regular premium cable matches, this is gonna be one great fucking sport.
It'll never fucking happen.

4) Soccer
Before DC got a new baseball team (if you can call the Gnats a baseball team), I used to love spending Sunday afternoons getting drunk out at RFK and catching a DC United game. Those were the good old days. The MLS was still in its infancy and the whole stadium was filled exclusively with skinheads and Salvadorians. You could smoke right in the stands, get as drunk as you pleased, yell whatever you wanted at the visiting goalie, and do anything short of rushing the field, starting a fire, or leading a riot. No one cared - They were tickled pink that you had paid $15 to get into the stadium. Then around 2003 they started to crack down on all the fun and the families started to pour in. That ruined everything, and I went from going to 4 or 5 games every season to '0'. I really should get back out to another United game this year, but it's not very high on my 'to do' list.
Every once in awhile I'll catch a European Premier League game on cable, and I'm all about the World Cup whenever it rolls around, but that's about it. For now, Soccer just stands at the far end of the chasm that separates my 'big 3' from everything else.

3) Hockey
Hockey could easily be my favorite sport of all time if it weren't for a few unfortunate events and/or circumstances. They are as follows:
a) In the1990's The NHL decided to kill it's new found success by expanding into such stalwart hockey towns such as San Jose, Tampa Bay, Raleigh, Nashville, Phoenix, Atlanta, Dallas, and Ft. Lauderdale. Genius.
b) In 1993 the Disney Corporation scored an expansion team, named the team 'The Mighty Ducks' after a series of crappy Emilio Esteves kids flix, and set upon a mission to make hockey suck. In the 12 years the Mouse was in the hockey biz, they managed to almost completely sever the testicles from the sport in a misguided attempt to make it more 'family-friendly' (read: profitable) - Fucking twats.
c) Throughout the 90's corporate interests started buying up teams as investments and ticket prices skyrocketed. We're losing money? Well then, we should anally rape the fans to shore up our margins. What? We're losing MORE money? It's the fault of those greedy players then. Lockouts, here we come! Now the NHL is a huge joke, on the verge of collapse, and true fans can barely afford (let alone justify) paying $75 bucks for a decent seat for one game. Bastards.
d) Every city where I've lived has had terrible fucking NHL teams.
The Blackhawks had a strong run in the late '80s/early 90's, but the ineptitude of owner "Dollar Bill" Wirtz sucked all the life out of the team. In 2004 the Hawks finished on top for the first time in almost 40 years - They won ESPN's 'award' for worst franchise in professional sports. Go Hawks!
The only team owner that has done less for a team in the history of the NHL is Ted Leonsis, vice chairman of America Online and owner of the Washington Capitals. He picked up the Capitals in 1999 during a high point (for the team and of AOL stock price), and then has run both straight through the fucking floor. I fucking hate that guy with every single bone in my body. That douche poisons everything he fucking touches. ARRRRGH, fucking scum Greek cocksucker.
Anyway, The Caps are the only hockey team in this region, and I'd rather cut off my pinkie fingers than give Leonsis one thin dime, so I have to rely on (one of the many) free unused tickets floating around if I want to see a game. Even when I go, I refuse to wear my Caps Jersey. I'm in the majority - the stadium is filled with every conceivable jersey out there that doesn't have a Caps logo on it, and everyone seems to be holding a cardboard "Fuck Leonsis" sign.
Things are different back in Northern Illinois. The Hawks look like they could be back on an upswing now that Wirtz is out, but the smart money is to go with one of the many Minor League teams out there. You'll get a great game at a reasonable price, and teams that you can actually route for. If it's any indication, the Chicago Wolves are my favorite team in the sport right now (followed by ХК ЦСКА Москва, Rockford Ice Hogs, and the Edmonton Oilers). Go see the Wolves or the Ice Hogs if you're looking at attending a game back in IL. You won't regret it.
I'm almost over the NHL completely, but that's the only hockey you can find on your dial. If you need a hockey fix, here's my guide on rooting for NHL teams.
Always pull for the team furthest North, and always against ANY team further South than St. Louis. Exceptions are to be made for hometown teams, and lower rankings for Minnesota (for letting the Northstars move to Dallas), the Canadiens (for being from fucking Montreal), and Columbus (for being super-ultra-mega-gay - The Blue Jackets? Are you fucking kidding me?). There you go.

2) Baseball
I'm going back to the lover analogy on this one. Sorry.
My love for the Cubbies may rival (or surpass) my love of the Bears, but the Cubs are definitely the mentally unstable girlfriend that you really shouldn't love.
They're the girl that comes crying to you at 4AM on a Wednesday, then wrecks up the joint, throws a toaster at your head, steals your stereo, fucks your brother, and then gets mad at you for yelling.
I thought that they broke my heart for the last time in the fall of '03, but I'm still as in love (if not more) every goddamned year. I can't help but love those insane girls. I'm an idiot like that.
NOTHING in this world beats spending a sunny early June afternoon along the 3rd base line at Wrigley Field. It feels soo good, that it can't possibly be wrong.
I'll happily catch games at other stadiums whenever I get the chance, but I often find myself annoyed with all of the unnecessary distractions around every other stadium in the league. More on that HERE.
I'll catch Cubs games on WGN, but can't really sit down and watch a typical televised game. It's just background while I do other things around the house. Same with radio - Every year I shell out the $20 for MLB radio, just so I can listen to Cubs games at work while I'm doing other things.
I'll watch every televised MLB playoff game, usually without the boys in blue anywhere to be seen (having been eliminated sometime in late May). Then I'll pick my new horse and then route for 'em for as far as they get. Gotta love October (does not apply to the October of 2003).

1) Boxing
At the pinnacle of The Liar's list, alone stands the sweet science (Great, I'm already typing like Don fucking King).
Pugilism is probably the most primal sport out there, yet remains one of the most enthralling. I'll watch any fight that I can find from 1930's prizefights on ESPN classic to live bouts on Premium cable. The only thing I won't do is pay crazy money for pay-per-view. Actually, one of my favorite boxing memories is going to Molly's in DeKalb with Bill Garver just to watch some big PPV prizefight (If memory serves, it was either Mike Tyson or Oscar De La Hoya) - The fight lasted all of one or two rounds, but the memories of Bill in a frat bar will live forever.
There's something about boxing that's brutal, yet poetic - grotesque, yet beautiful. There's a reason why all of the best sports movies are about boxing.** It's absolutely magnificent in its base grandeur.
My favorite fights are in the lightweight/welterweight/middleweight classes, but I'll watch 'em all. I prefer to watch bouts on Showtime, followed by HBO and ESPN. Occasionally I'll find a good fight on another channel, but those 3 are the holy-trinity of pugilism. I'm tempted to shell out the extra cash just to get Friday Night Fights on HD Net, but for now I'll have to stick with ESPN on Fridays. If you can, watch matches on premium cable. They're on every other week or so, and a fight is much more enjoyable without commercials during the breaks. You get as much perspective from the corners during the break as you do from the action in the round. Plus, I've noticed that the standard break is just enough time to get another beer and pour another shot. Perfection - Pure and simple.


I have heard that there are other televised sports out there, but very few even register on my radar.
I never have, and probably never will, watch college sports, or follow them in any capacity.
Arena League football, the CFL, and NFL Europe don't even pique my interest.
The NBA does nothing for me. Sometimes I'll find myself watching the NBA playoffs, but just to route against teams.
NASCAR? Rather clean out those gutters.
PBA? Make it PBR at Mardi Gras Lanes and you've got a deal. I love me some bowling (even have my own custom ball & shoes), and will go ANYTIME someone asks, but I'd rather pull out my teeth with pliers watch it on TV.
Televised Golf? I realiz z z z z z z z z z z z z z z z z z z znh... huh, what? Sorry, I nodded off at the keyboard just thinking about it.

There are a couple of other sports that I'll watch, but they're seasonal or sparse.
It's a treat if I can find a Sumo match on one of the local Asian broadcast channels out here, but those are few and far between.
Occasional I'll find an Australian or New Zealand Rugby match somewhere in the stratosphere of my cable tier, and that's always good for a cheap thrill.
Finally, I'll find a handful of sporting events to totally get into whenever the Olympics (Summer and Winter) come around (No one can ever sully my undying love for the 2002 Japanese women's Olympic curling team). I just wish that they would bring back Tug-of-War as an Olympic sport - C'mon guys, a 100-year hiatus is long enough. Who do you think you are, the Cubs?

So there you go; those are the 5 greatest sports that aren't football.
Okay, the 3 greatest sports that aren't football and two that I tacked on to flesh the list out to '5'.
You are free to argue with the list, but we both know that you'd be wrong.
---

* Not to be confused with 'Mixed Marital Arts' which can be found on late-night Cinemax
** More about that in another post

Save As Draft

Words are like feces, Once you sit down to take care of business, they just come spilling out of you. Then you spend twice as long trying to make them into something they're not. Light a match - Drop that paragraph. Spray some Glade - Change a story about you into a story about someone else. Sanitize the bowl - Sanitize your soul.
A good writer isn't someone who can change the way you perceive shit, but rather someone who can stand to let shit be shit.
I'm not a good writer.

I've been working on the "1995" novel for three straight months now. Almost every night I stay up until 4AM pounding out memories into my keyboard.
Then I spend just as long the next day white-washing anything that makes me look bad.
That doesn't leave me with much at all worth reading.
Stream of consciousness writing leaves the situation naked and open. True. Reading back over it, it's compelling, but I feel a need to rationalize actions and downplay the emotions. I don't want to come off as spiteful, hateful, boastful, arrogant, reckless, or self-centered. Flawed. So I rewrite everything until I'm self-deprecating, insightful, clever, or disillusioned. Boring and pompous - Unreadable.
It's the curse. I worry about perception. Not that people won't like me, but rather that they won't understand. This is the good kind of writing that can damage friendships, kill relationships, cause family turmoil, lose a job, or get you arrested (hell, I have 3 or 4 stories that would jeopardize all 5). I am compelled to explain the rational behind every single one of my actions, until I'm (now) left with a 100 page insincere apology. The type of shit that no one wants to read.

I do the same thing with the blog. I have about 3 dozen great posts that I have saved as drafts and just left to rot for fear that someone might take 'em the wrong way (understandably). They were too real, too honest, too unfiltered to actually post. I write 'em out and then bury them down in the digital ephemera where they belong.

What makes you smart as a person, makes you lousy as a writer. And I, for one, have chosen to embrace mediocrity.
It's best for all of us.

Mid-Season TeeVee Update

With Rome having fallen, Heroes on hiatus, and Adult Swim sucking it lately, there has been a severe drought of good stuff on television.
This leaves my agenda wide open for obsessing over weird little software bugs that have infiltrated my computer. When I'm not doing that, here's what I've been watching:

Bullshit
This is one of my all-time-favorite shows, and it's just starting up its fifth season of no-holds-barred goodness. I've been putting off doing a full post on this one for awhile, so (for now) this shout-out will have to make due.

Andy Barker P.I.
Andy Richter stars as an accountant turned soft-boiled private investigator in a surprisingly clever fish-out-of-water series. Tony Hale (Arrested Development) co-stars as Andy's video store clerk sidekick and Conan O'Brien serves as series co-creator and executive producer, but Harve Presnell steals the fucking show as an elderly, misanthropic, anti-social, amoral, hard-as-nails, 70's era detective who begrudgingly serves as Andy's mentor.
Added bonus - There are a ton of movie-geek references packed into the series ("Why does everyone keep saying 'Chinatown'? I told you, I haven't seen it. Would someone please explain what that means?"). I'm absolutely hooked -Fucking brilliant.
If you haven't been watching this show, start doing so RIGHT NOW. They have 5 full episodes available online. Be sure to watch "Three Days of the Chicken" it's easily the funniest fucking thing I've seen on network television in a long time.
I'm sure that it'll be cancelled before too long, so enjoy it while you can.

Asia Extreme on Sundance Channel
Every Sunday at midnight Sundance serves up an uncut flick from Tartan's Asia Extreme series. I love me some Asian horror, psycho thriller, and gonzo films. This weekly treat is like manna from heaven for me... and The Girl likes it too.

Bizarre Foods
Who knew that watching a happy-go-lucky food critic traveling the world and eating weird shit could be so engrossing? Despite a couple of 'Fear Factor' moments in each episode, it's hard to pull yourself away from this one. I'm really digging it - In fact, I've been tempted to You-Tube up my own "Bizarre Liar" clip onto the internets after a shopping trip to the Thai market down the street. Don't hold your breath. That's definitely one of my 'looks good on paper' ideas.

Anything on the Science Channel
This is easily the best reason to shell out the cash for extended-tier cable.
This is what the Discovery Channel should be. Tons of nature shit, physics crap, and end-of-days bull-plop. I'm so hooked. This is the immediate 'default' channel on my remote.

24
Has it jumped the shark? Hell yes.
Do I care? Not if that jumpin' shark keeps blowin' up real good every goddamned week. *

I'm still eagerly waiting for the return of Heroes, The Sopranos, Venture Brothers, Dexter, My Name is Earl, and Metalocalypse. Until then, the aforementioned shows are keeping my ass in the couch for at least a few hours every week.
Remember, even mediocre television beats interacting with loved ones on any given day.
---

*If anyone else out there still watches South Park, they fucking NAILED the whole '24' thing last episode. Hilarious.

The Roxio Incident

The ePissers will remember my CDROM issue from a couple weeks ago, well here’s the full story (so far):

Somehow, a really annoying program has grafted itself to my CD-ROM drive so that whenever I go to copy anything to the disk it comes up as "waiting to be copied" rather than just fucking copying it directly.
The offending program is the "CD Writing Wizard"(thus confirming my belief that all wizards are gay), and appears to be by the (equally queerly named) company, “Roxio”.

Here’s the deal: The only thing I ever use the copy function on my CDROM drive for is one thing and one thing only - Ripping WMA files to a disc so that I can listen to ‘em in my Jeep. A single WMA disc can hold damn near 10 hours of music files on it, so I use ‘em to copy between 15 and 20 full albums onto one disc – no pick and choose bullshit.
I used to be able to just drag and drop any file (text, MP3, picture, etc) I wanted into the CD window & it would burn it and show me how much space I had left on the disc. Dandy, huh?
Well now I have to drag all of the files into the CD window and they come up as “waiting to be written”, then I have to go back and write down each file size I want to transfer to CD, break out the fucking calculator to figure out how much space I have left on a disc, and then click “write to CD” and wait for it to go through the whole writing process all over again. The entire start-to-finish process used to run under 10 minutes, now it takes over a half-hour, and is easily 10 times more frustrating.
I have an Aiwa dual-disc stereo component CD burner that I use to burn my mix CDs, so this isn’t a huge problem for me, but it’s driving me mad, nonetheless. I’m about ready to re-format my entire hard drive in order to get rid of this one little program that I maybe use once every couple of months.

Well, I've been all over the internets trying to figure how to disable this function and get things back to normal, but the only solutions that I have come up with involve firearms and/or blunt instruments. I’ve tried every trick I’ve found, and have removed all programs and updates I’ve installed since this problem has surfaced – Nothing. I spent a good five hours today ripping out programs and applications from my hard drive in hopes of killing this – Still nothing.
Herpes and stray Italians are easier to get rid of than this fucker.

If anyone knows me, they know that shit like this pisses me off more than anything, and that I’ll salt the fucking earth to kill this one pesky weed. I didn’t want it. I didn’t download it. I’ve tried like hell to disable it, and it serves no purpose – It’s fucking less than useless.
I need complete control over every single program on my PC – If I can’t get that, I just won’t use it (and that’s why I could never own a Mac).
Now I’m about ready to nuke my OS and reinstall Linux just so that I can use my CD drive without jumping through some ridiculously redundant hoop. I’m prepared to lose everything just to get rid of this one thing - Burn down the house to kill the mouse.
I’m crazy like that.

The State of the Liar

The job search is still ongoing.
It doesn't look like my first-choice job is gonna open up anytime soon, so I'm looking at a couple of other government positions. Since I broadened my view, things have been moving a lot quicker on the job front, and it looks likely that I'll be back with the paid-workforce sometime in April.

Whenever I get that worked out I still plan on getting back to IL for a weekend or two. There might be some family issues that could bring me back to IL sooner than expected, but I'm not making any plans just yet.
Keep an eye out here for updates. I'll post it up as soon as I buy the tickets.

In the interim, I'm getting ready to sell off a bunch of the record store overstock off on eBay, and (at The Girl's urging) I've been looking into selling some of my photographs to a couple of stock houses.
One day, I hope that those serene nature shots I have taken can be used to sell tampons, boner-pills, or automobile insurance to the American consumer. I will die a happy man if I can get a photo of a crazy bag lady screaming at me from in front of a bus-stop ad for Monistat 7 featuring one of my flower photos.
You have your dreams, I have mine.
Since it's been really nice out lately, I've been out around town getting tons of pictures of all of the blossoms and whatnot. In preparation for 'going pro', I've started taking all of my photos in the TIFF format. That means that I've got to figure out how to (significantly) shrink the file size before I can get any of 'em up onto my Flickr page.

One other thing I'm considering (while I still have loads of free time), is wiping out my PC and reinstalling everything from scratch. The fucking thing is still doing that "waiting for files to be written to CD" thing that's driving me batty. I'm about ready to nuke the hard drive just to get rid of it.
If anyone had any suggestions and/or pointers to keep me from shooting myself in the foot on this one, please let me know.

Aside from all that, the only thing of interest is the load of good shows coming through DC in the next couple of weeks. I'm planning on seeing Electric Six this Saturday, Sebadoh next Tuesday, and we have tickets for The Stooges reunion show the following Thursday.
It looks like the rock gods are finally smiling on DC (after months of nothing).

Drag The River 3/25/07 @ Rock & Roll Hotel, DC

This is the first show I've gone to since I saw MOTO back in IL last December.
It was a hUGE* disappointment.

Jon Snodgrass quit Drag the River yesterday (Saturday night/Sunday morning).

Tonight DtR was a 3-piece, and they sucked it hard. I had a chance to speak to all of the band members afterwards and the general consensus was that Jon got into a big blowout with Dave (the drummer), quit the band, and headed back to Colorado.

Hopefully this means that there'll be a new Armchair Martin album in the pipe sometime soon.

I'm biased. I've always been faithful to Jon - I've known him since the 7DA days, when Armchair Martian played there several times. He's the reason that I've always championed Drag the River, and I can't imagine (or condone) the band without him.

Drag the River (sans Jon) opened, and played an abbreviated set - Mostly Chad DtR songs with a few covers thrown in for filler. I couldn't get into it, nor could the band (by the sound of it).

Fuck it. The band (excepting Dave) seemed more broken up about it than I ever could be - I hope they can work it out, but it doesn't sound likely.

The second "band" was Owen. It was one guy with an acoustic guitar and an iPod.
I so fucking envied that guy. I remembered back to my LD50 days, when I spent a fortune on a Korg 01FD keyboard, a Roland HR8 drum machine, and an ADAT sampler to get half as much as this guy gets with an off-the-rack PC and an over-the-counter MP3 player... And I had to bring in a second member (thanx Nate) just to push all of the fucking buttons for me whenever I performed live.
He sounded a hell of a lot like the singer of the Weakerthans (could be, for all I know), and was surprisingly compelling for being just one guy on stage.

The final act was Rocky Votolato. That's a guy, not a band (no Jethro Tull, Lynard Skynard tomfoolery there). He was backed up by all of the remaining members of Drag the River. The songs kinda remind me of early Bob Dylan (pre-electric) and early Bruce Springsteen (pre-MTV). Good stuff** - I'm glad I stuck around.

I'm glad that I went to the show (even though if I had known about Jon I would have definitely stayed home and caught the finale of Rome). It was a good time, and I got all of this fire & brimstone music news firsthand.

---
*Meathead should get that joke

** Just listened to one of his CDs that I picked up at the show last night. His voice sounds totally different than he did live. I remember him saying something on stage about his voice being shot, I liked the "shot" voice better.

Hell Couch XIV: Drinky Joe Lives

Wow, that was close!
I was convinced that the Drinky Joe page was at its end.

Last month Drinky spent a large chunk of change pimpin' out his room. I took him out to Ikea where he bought a new super-fancy futon with ultra-delux matress, bought a bitchin' storage unit in which to store the debris scattered about his domain, and (at my urging) Wooted up a flat-screen HDTV with integrated DVD player for his room. There's no conceivable reason why he'd still keep to sleeping on the couch, right? Thus, the end of the legend of Drinky Joe.

Well... That motherfucker is still sleeping on my goddamn couch. Keep in mind that 3 days every week he works as a bar-back at a busy bar in DC, so every week our couch smells more and more like stagnant water, garbage juice, and toilet overflow.
Anyway, today was the capper - I woke up to find this:He explained that the reason he was on the couch was that (somehow) he managed to get covered in "fake poop in a can" last night. Great, that's exactly the odor the couch was missing. As an added bonus, he managed to piss all over the bathroom rug.
No court in this nation would convict me of manslaughter, right?

Well, the source of my homicidal rage is the source of your amusement. I've got another FULL page of pics up on the Drinky Joe Flickr site. Plus, there are a bunch of great submissions from the "Tag Drinky Joe" contest on the following page.
Be sure to check 'em out before I shoot him in the face and everyone's fun comes to an end.

Calvert DeForest (1921 - 2007)

NEW YORK (AP) -- The balding, bespectacled nebbish who gained cult status as the oddball Larry "Bud" Melman on David Letterman's late-night television shows has died after a long illness. LINK

I just hope that he doesn't get lost on his way to the pearly gates.
He's doomed.

The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly Pun

- There's a Woot-Off goin' down. Be sure to check it out if you're looking for a load of dirt-cheap goodness (or a bunch of useless crap).

- R.I.P. Rome. It looks like everyone's favorite sword and sandals premium cable series coming to an end this Sunday after only two seasons. It hurts, but at the rate they've been jumping forward in the series, the fourth season would have had to take place in the future.

- I'm working on a story about a clan of Scottish mercenaries set in the American old West.
So far, I've got my opening:
I reckon that you never can fully comprehend what livin's all aboot until you've kilt a man.

Eh, Oh Hell

An AOL account is like an axe-murder from some bad 80's slasher flick - It just won't stay dead.

I stopped using AOL back in 2000, but kept the service around for my parents to use. This last Fall AOL claimed that my card had been refused (again), despite the fact that it was working for everything else other than AOL. I decided to kill it and mail in a check for the difference I owed - $77.70. I convinced my parents to make the leap to broadband and forgot all about it- Everything's done, right? Wrong.

About a month later I get another request from AOL for the $77.70. I send 'em the cancelled check and a short note suggesting that they stick that cancelled check up their collective asses and quit bothering me - Now everything's done, right? Wrong.

Today I just got a bill from a collections agency, on behalf of AOL, for (you guessed it) $77.70.

I tried calling NCO Financial Systems (the collections agency) 7 times.
5 times I got voicemail, one time I got some barely audible Indian gent and then was disconnected almost immediately, and one time I got right through to a loud shrieking noise followed by a dial tone.

I tried the AOL billing number and got caught a first-hand tour of Dante's automated telephone assistance inferno. It kept turning me around to where I'd begun, all the while asking me to repeat myself and enter in another zip code, phone number, screen name, etc.
Then it suggested that I renew AOL account to better reach the billing department. F-U-C-K Y-O-U... Do you understand that Mr. disembodied telephone voice?
After about 35 minutes I realized that I was screaming obscenities at a recording, so I calmed down long enough to hear the recording say "goodbye" - That's when I fucking lost it. I might have broken my toe when I was kicking the filing cabinet and wildly throwing papers around. We'll have to wait and see on that one.

As a last ditch effort, I called my bank to see what my options were and (if need be) get another copy of the cancelled check.
I've had annoying problems with Wachovia (my bank) in the past, but today they were my saviors. I somehow managed to get through to the best customer service rep in the history of the profession. She is so my new automated telephone girlfriend.
The Wachovia rep listened to my whole story, said "That doesn't seem right", got through to AOL on her end, and then bore witness for me on the AOL billing line for 47 minutes.
We got some AOL retard that spoke in Ebonics and who's every response was either: "Don't disrespect me.", "Please, let me finish.", "That's not what our records say.", or "So, You want me to reactivate the account or not?".
AOL made both of us jump through endless hoops for almost 50 minutes to get this (apparently) simple billing issue resolved. The Wachovia rep had to repeatedly interrupt the the conversation to tell him that the bank had a cancelled check for the transaction that he was claiming that AOL had never received. While on hold, both me and the Wachovia lady were making fun of AOL's incompetence.
After giving ALL of my information for the fifth time and spending 15 straight minutes on hold, my patience was wearing thin. The final straw dropped after the third "Let me axe you something." I lost it and said "ASK, A-S-K, it's pronounced ASSSK... idiot." We then got put on hold for another 8 minutes.
Finally, the AOL guy came on and said that the records had been "updated" and that they would contact the credit agency. We said goodbye to AOL, and the Wachovia rep and I started in on a "Can you believe that shit?" conversation. While we were debating on whether the AOL rep was retarded or not, we heard a little voice say "I'm still here, I can't disconnect until you hang-up."
The Wachovia rep said "I'm sorry." and I said "I'm not", then I launched into a 'You-Dirty-Motherfuckers' rant that would make EdP blush. After I got all of that all out, I told the AOL guy to go fuck himself, said goodbye to the (giggling) Wachovia rep, and hung-up.

Hopefully now that beast is dead and buried, but I'm sure that this is not the end of it. I'm fulling expecting to get another bill from AOL and/or have to fight tooth and nail to get that blemish removed from my credit record.
I'll bet you $77.70.

You Ignint

WASHINGTON (AP) - About one-third of the people living in the nation's capital are functionally illiterate, compared with about one-fifth nationally, according to a report on the District of Columbia. LINK
And in further news - According to highly placed sources; Birds go "Tweet".

I is varry munch concerted bout dis.

Internet Updating

The job search is coming along at a decent clip, and (hopefully) I'll have some idea of what's going on sooner than later. Once I've figured out all that noise, I won't have to keep on living like some whacked-out recluse in order to save money.
If all works out, look for me to hit Chicago (and areas beyond) sometime in April or May. Nothing is set in stone just yet, but a few of you have asked me when I was heading back, so I figured that I'd just throw up a post on it.

Prepare to fortify your homesteads (and your wine) in anticipation of my arrival.

McRant

This is the third version of this post. Saturday I wrote another St. Paddy's rant, but chucked it because it was lame. Then I decided to post up a Video clip on Absinthe because a) It's green, and b) There's nothing like a love-note to some fancy-pants French liqueur to piss all over that sham holiday. That never got done, so now I'm back to a rant.

I love to drink (lots), and any excuse to get howl-at-the-moon stinko should be a good one, but fuck St. Patrick's day. Seriously. The more I think about it, the more worked-up I get. It's a holiday for a Roman-Catholic saint for Christ's sake. I'm not Christian, and sure as hell not Catholic (even though I should be able to claim so after enduring a 5-fucking-hour-long wedding ceremony). I'm a drunk, and I am part Irish - There's a long line of dirt-farmers, travelers, and white-trash crapping up that branch of my family tree.

St Paddy's Day (as we know it) isn't an Irish holiday. It's not a religious holiday. It's an American holiday. It's a bastardized 20th century Hallmark holiday fueled by Miller Lite and the makers of green food dye. Leave it to our dopey culture to turn a high holly McHoliday honoring some English slave turned zealot into an excuse to wear green, drink mint milkshakes, and get shitty on crappy beer dyed green. Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with us? It's an Irish holiday, so we all have to get fucking loaded? I'm part Norwegian too, does that mean that I have to burn a Danish flag and dig up jars of fermented fish out of my backyard on Syttende Mai (May 7th)? It's just embarrassing, and real fucking lame. Period. End.
Oh, and if I see another cutesy leprechaun lapel pin it's going up someone's ass.

Here's my solution: Forget St. Paddy's Day - Bacchanalia is March 16th and 17th every fucking year. We get an extra day, and it celebrates a god who actually endorsed drinking, gluttony, and fornication. Sounds good to me.
The Italians are about to lose Columbus Day (all evidence indicates that he was born, raised, and lived in Spain), so Bacchanalia could be the new Dago Day. It'll be great. All the girls can put on too much eyeliner and dress up in gold-lame - All the guys can don knock-off Member's Only jackets embroidered with the Lamborghini emblem and sport bushy fake mustaches. We will all eat spaghetti, watch Satyricon, and talk like Sopranos. I can even envision a market for leaning-tower beer kegs and Mussolini pinatas. Who wouldn't love that?
It's fucking genius.

300 > Awesome

Just saw 300, and I gotta say it's a damn fine film. It followed the Frank Miller graphic novel pretty close to form. The film inserted a decent secondary story line about Leonidas' wife and the local politicians, and there were a few omissions from the comic. Otherwise, it looks like the graphic novel was essentially used as a storyboard for the film (as was with Sin City). Granted, the dialog is a bit stilted, but what do you expect? Miller's prose seemed dead natural in the Spillanesque world of Sin City - not so much in a sword and sandals epic, but all that noise takes a backseat to the saccharine sweet eye-candy visuals.
This sucker was chock full of frenetic comic book over-the-top optical goodness. It was absolutely beautiful, and I'm hoping that studios take notice the success of 300, Sin City, and V for Vendetta and start making more movies based on comic books THAT KEEP THE FUCKING LOOK AND FEEL OF THOSE COMIC BOOKS (I'm holding out high hopes for HBO's Preacher series).

Two ways I ruined the movie for myself ('cuz I'm an idiot):
1) I re-read The Girl's copy of the graphic-novel yesterday, and found myself comparing the movie to the comic all the way through rather than just enjoying it.
I should have waited until afterwards to re-read it, as not to force myself into some weird obsessive comic-geek nitpicking mindset.
2) Just because there is an Irish bar 3 doors down from the theater doesn't mean that I'm obligated to down whiskey and stout for 45 minutes while waiting for the doors to open.
I peed right before I took my seat - by the time that the commercials/coming attractions ended and the feature started I realized that I had to go again. I held onto that piss for 118 goddamned minutes - Not the best way to enjoy a film.

The Girl was the one who was really geeked-up about going to see this one, so no post would be complete without her review of the film:
"Two straight hours of six-packs and banana-hammocks... Fuckin' Sweet!"
Well, there you have it.

NCAA Bracket

Here are my picks:
Oh, shit. Nevermind.
I don't know dick about college basketball. That's my NAACP Bracket. Sorry.

Summer Shoes

Last week The Girl and I went out for dinner at my favorite Japanese restaurant. On the way back, she convinced me to stop by Urban Outfitters.
As usual, it was chock full of overpriced faux-hipster crap. As I was browsing, one thing caught my eye - a pair of Chuck Taylor slip-ons. I love Chucks, and I've had (at least) one pair in my wardrobe at all times since I was eight or nine, but I sure as shit wasn't gonna pony up 70 bucks for 'em.
Today I decided to make my own damned pair. I pulled out the low-tops that I found in a clearance bin for $10, removed the laces, took out a needle & thick mending thread, and stitched up the insides (all the way up along the tongue and above the eyelets) like so:
Total cost = approximately $10.04 and about 20 minutes of stitchin' time.

Now I've got a pair of comfortable-as-fuck summer shoes that look pretty bitchin'. See:
Everything's coming up Milhouse!!!

How To Make Liar's Tincture

As promised, here's a video tutorial on how to make your own batch of Liar's Medicinal Tincture in about 5 minutes (plus one week to settle).
If you listen closely, you can hear a bit of the upcoming W.I.L.T. (Spring 2007) in the background.

Written instructions can be found HERE.
The file was too big to fit on the YouTubes, so I had to use Google video. I really like it; I'm thinking that it's my new default for posting video.

An Asshole of Many Faces

I have been going through a bunch of crap in an unemployed "get organized" frenzy. One of my myriad tasks is scanning a bunch of my old analog photographs into jpeg format. In doing so, I've uncovered a load of incriminating photos of myself - Here are a few of my favorites:

'Lil Liar (1976)

Longhaired Liar (1990)

Shave the Cheerleader (Halloween 1992)

New Orleans (1993)

College Liar (1996)

7DA Days (1999)

Unused DC Lies Icon (2005)

Now (2007)

Stars Struck My Spam Folder

Double-fuck me! ...the MPAA was right; Illegal downloading is killing the film industry.
I just took a look at my spam-folder and found these e-mails from (apparently) cash-strapped celebs:
- Harrison Ford - Subj: YOUR EMAIL ID HAVE WON PRIZE
- Halle Berry - Subj: juept good news
- Tyra Banks - Subj: BEST VIAGRA LEGETAMATE FROM UINTED STATES
- Sandra Bullock - Subj: good intercalat
- Forrest Witacre - Subj: improve ur sexual lives immediatly
- Tom Cruise - Subj: SOME SWING PICS ?
- Lindsay Lohan - Subj: Lohans Crotch Hair Scare
- Mrs. Cher Madonna - Subj: Sovetskie Mul'tfil'my
and my favorite
- Thomas Jeffersons - Subj: Tina Turner Amsterdam, Floyd Wall Rat Pack

God, I loved the Thomas Jeffersons - General Sherman Helmsley was fucking brilliant.

I don't know about you all, but I'm gonna buy some boner-pills just to help out Tyra Banks. Sister has legal bills to pay.

Too Busy To Work

Holy Shit, I've been slammed over the last few days.
You ask: Can you even be slammed when you're out of work?
Well, over the last week I've applied for a passport (after a 3 day hunt for a copy of my birth certificate - see: following item), re-organized my office and weeded through over 100 stuffed file folders, installed and set-up my new HDTV (via Woot), planted a tree, switched out my old CD burner for one that works, patched a ceiling leak in the basement, ripped out the mildew-infested shower doors from the upstairs bathroom and re-finished the whole shebang (caulkin' galore), replaced the old terlet lid with a fancy wood one, transferred a load of my old VHS tapes to DVD, and read a 300 page document on telecommunications law (in anticipation of the new job). That doesn't even take into account all of my cooking, cleaning, shoveling, and yard work (or the unending trips to Home Depot, Ikea, Target, Staples, etc.).
Shit, I hope that the new job starts soon - This unemployment nonsense is fucking exhausting.

The Things We Keep

I was weeding through a pile of miscellaneous crap (old lyrics, flyers, notes, ticket stubs, pictures, receipts, etc.) when I found this:
I couldn't figure out why I'd keep an old exchange receipt from 1995.
Then I remembered - I had gone to Best Buy to exchange a defective cordless phone. When I returned home my house was burning down. All I had to my name were the clothes on my back, the crap in my car, a new phone, and that damned receipt. The phone that the receipt is for is long gone, but I've held on to that damn slip of paper for 12 years. I'll probably still have it 12 years from now - And 12 years after that.
Funny how that works.
---

Here's a few cool photos of the fire's aftermath:

Reel to Real Worthless

Blown Speaker

Synthesized

Happy Birthday Gundy!

Arbitrary stereotype of the day: Norwegians love cake.
Or is that potato salad?

Regardless, I'm going to celebrate Craig's b-day by going to Jes & Anita's b-day bash tonight at The Big Hunt and indignantly asserting (repeatedly) that Craig's party would be much cooler. Then (after I'm good and hammered) I'll try and convince everyone in the bar that the party was really for Craig, but that Jes & Anita had to ruin it by leaching on. Hell, I might even barf on the subway again just to top it all off.
One thing is for sure - I've got to make an effort to be (more of) an insufferable jerk tonight. It's the way Gundy would want it.

Super Happy Fun Respectable Potty Training Video, Please

Hory Shit! It's been seven months since the last Asian Arert.
In order to compensate for this gross oversight, I happen to have one of the greatest video clips in the history of the internets.


I present: The Shimajiro Toilet Training Video.
It has everything, anthropomorphic tigers, a talking terlet, happy excrement, a pinata that explodes to celebrate defecation, magic pants, and a disturbing-as-all-hell live action spot at the end.
You gotta love it.

Thanx to The Girl for the link.

All Good Things...

Today marks the day when I stop getting paid ridiculous sums of money for doing nothing. My severance ran out at midnight, and now I'm officially a lazy out-of work bum.
I managed to squirrel away enough cash to last me for another couple of months, but I'm hoping that I can land the Commerce Department job that I'm after within the next few weeks. Just in case, I'm getting ready to set up an eBay store to get rid of some of the left-over stock from the record store. I've been meaning to do that for awhile, and now I can link the eBay store up with the SDA domains I just bought. If worse comes to worse (worst?), I can live off of that until the holidays.
Man, I'm gonna miss getting paid for doing nothing. It was great while it lasted.