I’m just going to have to come right out and say it. This cartoon, sums up my feelings for Barack Obama at this early point in Election 08. I’ll submit to the fact that Barack is an excellent public speaker, but can’t we all admit his speeches are high on sentiment and low on substance? Ordinarily, I might just support Obama, but the frenzy of ‘hope and change’ he seems to be whipping everyone up into is alarming.
Anyway, if you need a break from all the hoopla, then please come take a look at my new side project:
Mitt Romney has been TKO’d by everyone’s favorite ex POW John McCain after a disappointing showing on Super Pooper Tuesday. To whom will conservatives across the country turn now in their time of need? Will they turn to Mike “The Preacher Man” Huckabee or will they swallow their pride and rally behind John “The Snake-eater” McCain?
Only time will tell my dear friends! This election seems to have whipped everyone into a tall lather, and I honestly can’t make heads or tails of it. Sure, maybe I’d like to hop on the Barack Obama bandwagon, but how can anyone with even a small drop of self respect support someone who has a campaign video featuring Will I. Am? Doesn’t this video make you want to choke yourself with a bag full of sugar?
If more of these asinine videos are what I can expect from a Barack Obama presidency, then that, my friends, is Change I can do without. The only change that I’m interested in is the type that rattles around in my pockets when I have a lot of money. So, if anyone would like to bribe me into voting for Barack Obama… Well, I’m accepting offers.
So, some folks have asked me why I don’t like Hillary Clinton. Honestly, I don’t have a real policy-related reason for disliking her. Granted, I could try to articulate why it is that she irks me, and I could try to say that she’s condescending, irritating, smarmy. However, that’d be a waste of time. I’m against Hillary Clinton for one simple reason.
I was born in 1984. Of the 23 years that I’ve been alive, the President of the United States has been a Bush or a Clinton for 19 going on 20. If Hilldog were to be elected, that would move the figure up to 24 out of 28 years. A quarter of a century. Something is wrong with that. If you’d like to get really technical about it, there’s been a Bush or a Clinton in the White House every year of my and my friend’s lives. Let’s not forget about Vice President George Herbert Walker Bush!
I’m not even saying a like Barack Obama, but let’s kick the Clintons to the curb and get some people in office who can let people abort their fetuses, give me health insurance and handouts, feed the hungry and blast “Across the Universe” to the North Star.
An interesting article today from CNN.com regarding a teenager who apparently planned to commit suicide by hijacking a commercial airliner and crashing it into a Hannah Montana concert in Louisiana. Normally this sort of thing is what makes FOX News broadcasts pulse red with “Breaking News” and “Fox News Alerts”. I guess everyone can’t be a terrorist, especially when Walt Disney and Louisiana are involved.
Anyway, the best part of this itty-bitty article is at the bottom. Since news websites would like you to use The Internets for quicker access to relevant news items, they usually offer relevant ’subscribable’ topics at the bottom of the page. The ones offered here are sublime:
All About Hannah Montana • Suicide • Air Travel
By the way, for those of you unfamiliar with her, Hannah Montana (Miley Cyrus) originates from the loins of Billy Ray Cyrus whose mind numbing mega-hit “Achy Breaky Heart” and epic mullet have been making people want kill themselves violently for years…
After having decried the puritanical, repressed and awful climate of The Hub, I’d like to extol the virtues of America’s metropolis New York City. Here are a couple of things I enjoyed while on a recent sojourn to The Big Apple.
1. A store called “Shoegasm“: People, it turns out, are really into feet and foot related accessories, namely Shoes. While traipsing about some area of Manhattan trolling for a gay bar, my friends and I passed the storefront of this shoe purveyor. I think these folks should let me handle their press. Consider the following slogans:
We’ve got tight shoes for your hard feet.
Those pair of shoes have been around the block and back!
I think everyone’s walked a mile in that shoe…
If you’re going to wear that shoe, make sure you wear a sock.
Sha… Sha… Sha… Shaaaaa. SHOOOOOOOEEEEssssss!!!!
Etc.
2. Lance Bass: So, Lance decided to make an appearance at this rather unremarkable bar called “Black and White” also in Manhattan. He arrived while I was outside indulging my nicotine habit, and I instantly recognized him as being famous, but could not come up with his name. It wasn’t until he’d entered the bar that I correctly identified him as “the gay Nysnc member who wanted to take a little trip into outerspace.” I tried to nonchalantly confirm this with the bouncer, but ended up making it seem like I had a low opinion of Lance–who happens to be a good friend of the bouncer, or so he told me–when I in fact have no opinion of Lance. Oh well. My friends chatted him up a bit and remarked that he was exceptionally smiley, more smiley than any one man should be. The picture here about sums that up.
So the birthday celebration in Boston happened, and was–setting excluded–a good bit of fun. There was an impromptu game of Zoomy-Zoomy in at a Waltham Ninety-Nine, the purchase of Trolli Hamburgers and Hotdogs, Red Bull and Vodka, Champagne and last (definitely not least) an hour long wait for a bus inside of a Convenience Store on the corner of Massachusetts and Beacon. The only mistake–and what a mistake it was–of the night happened to be patroning a bar that I’d previously enjoyed as an eater and a drinker: The Pour House Bar & Grill.
Now, I’m not a stingy person, but when I pay six dollars for an ice-intensive rum and coke I’d like to have every last drop. It just so happened that after stepping outside for a cigarette with some friends and returning to our table (watched the entire time by two other friends) my half finished rum and coke had been picked up by the bar. We alerted the waitress of the error, who then alerted the ‘bar manager’ who subsequently refused to do anything but be entirely unhelpful. We attempted to rationalize. We reasoned that he must as a human being understand our annoyance having likely had at one time a half finished plate of delicious food scooped up from underneath his mouth by an extremely eager server. The ‘bar manager’ didn’t see things our way and as most reputable businesses do; that a business should in general give the benefit of the doubt to the customer and work to resolve such trivial situations quickly by merely replacing the item in question rather than jeopardizing future business. We had, to this point, already spent forty dollars as a group and were looking to spend more. Instead, the ‘bar manager’ told us that it was our responsibility to keep their overzealous bus boys and girls from poaching our drinks and that we were shit out of luck. What followed was admittedly drunken on my part and somewhat hazy in memory, but it involved leaving in a hurry and being overcharged as a group and prevented from leaving by the masshole bouncers guarding the door onto Boylston St. As under the influence as I may have been, I still think I hit the nail on the head when I queried the bar manager, “If you’re not responsible for what your employees are doing, then what exactly is it that you’re managing?”
Needless to say, I’ll never be returning to The Pour House again–despite the fact that I find their fare edible and affordable. Conclusion:
It’s about time I made things a bit more personal here on The Digital Idiocy. Tonight I’m going to be taking a sojourn to the city of dreams, a bastion of booze, that sleepy eyed self professed hub-of-the-world Boston. The trip is being made to celebrate a friend’s birthday, and that–I’m afraid–is the only reason I would consent to traveling there. Now, I used to like Boston. It has a unique character, it’s home to my favorite sports team, I’ve many friends there. Yet, I’m sick of the scene. Too many Boston University students wearing trendy outfits, clinging to subway poles and riding the Green Line up and down Comm. Ave. Too many bars that close early and host endless seas of Red Sox baseball caps and the idiots underneath them. Too Many pretentious Harvard Twits dotting the sidewalks in Harvard Square across the Charles River, discoursing and not conversing over long hyphenated subjects like “pseudo-gender-confusion-stereotypes-in-post-modern-eastern European-societies”. Too many Dunkin’ Donuts, Dunkins, Double D’s, Dunks, DD’s. Too many serpentine avenues, one way streets, construction crews and back roads to outlying suburbs (here’s looking at you South Shore). Too much Boston. To make things worse, word on the street is that yours truly will have to abide some men-hating folk who think using big words like hegemony and patriarchy punch their ticket to intellectual station. It’s possible that I’m looking at this all a bit negatively. In fact, I certainly am. But seriously: Boston, What’s Up? Now: I’d like to share a video appropriate for the occasion.
The Chinese are going absolutely bat-shit! You can’t turn the dial on your radio or click the remote to your Idiot Box these days without hearing about the latest shipment of Chinese made products to be recalled for high lead content. This latest ‘lil trick however really takes the cake, and all you sexually frustrated frat boys out there had better listen up! Apparently, what Wal Mart was recently listing as one of the top toys to consume for the holiday season doubles as a date rape drug.
Behold Aqua Dots! CNN is reporting that whatever these silly, funny colored little beads are made of when ingested metabolizes into a popular date rape drug. Is this a Trick or is this a Treat? First off, this toy looks like Lite Brite meets crochet, and we all know how much children love crocet–almost as much as they love long division. The benefit of this toy might be that the children get to keep their idiotic representations of frogs, ponies, faces and what-not so that mumsie and daddad have something to place on the refrigerator next to their “creative spelling” tests.
But what is it that the Chinese are really trying to push on us here? It’s absolutely a conspiracy, another way for the Chinese to try and poison us with lead and make as ‘amnestic’. In fact, I think this recent wave of Chinese product borders on Chemical Warfare, and that it’s your duty as a citizen of this Great Nation to contact your local congressman, your local First Selectman, your local Sheriff and ask them to add China to the Axis of Evil pantheon! I say to China this: If this is how you want your burgeoning economy to spread its wings, be my guest! Our Denny’s will out poison your people more than your trivial little knick-knacks ever will. Long live American fast-food induced constipation!
I propose for the first time in the history of the world–I hope, but not likely–an idea for an AntiSuperhero: “F**king Dude Man”. He is everyone and no one, and we all know who he is. He’s the man who bumped into you at the Fall Out Boy concert and made you spill your Sex On The Beach, he’s the one who groped your girlfriend at the party last night, he’s the one who bought the last pack of Lucky Strike Lights at the gas station, he’s the one who showed up to your party and managed to find the floor more often than his mouth with all of your food. You know what you say to your friends:
“Who got Doritos crumbs all over your bed,” they ask.
“I don’t know. Some f**king dude, man!”
F**king Dude Man is an Anti-Superhero with the power to replace any ol’ chap with the misfortune of becoming “That Guy”, the committer of the oft dreaded party foul. We’ve all done things in the company of others that we’d just as soon forget as soon as we’ve done them. Unfortunately for us all, people tend to remember names, faces and social faux pas. What F**king Dude Man does is replace the would-be party fouler at the exact moment the crime has been committed and accepts the blame, scorn and awkward glances. Meanwhile, he teleports the party fouler elsewhere in the gathering where he or she can take some vitamins and try harder at not screwing up. Honestly though, the real source of F**king Dude Man’s strength is in his ability to remain perfectly anonymous to everyone. When someone recalls the misdeeds of Party Goer X, for example, all one will recall is that the misdeed was committed by, “Some F**king Dude, Man” of average, bland and common characteristics and not by the aforementioned Party Goer.
Upon reflection, it’s possible that this AntiSuperhero already exists and has appeared at whatever social gatherings it was that you’ve found yourself at over the course of your life. But, we’ll never know for sure, Man. It was just some f**king dude, man.
So, I have five minutes before the first pitch of the 2007 MLB World Series. What a great opportunity to fire off a few bon mots about a World Series that pits the New England’s lovable Red Sox against the Colorado Rockies. The Red Sox, as far as bean counters in Las Vegas are concerned, are the odds on favorites to take the Series. I’m inclined to agree. First of all, when did we start naming professional sports teams after mountain ranges? What if the Red Sox were not the Red Sox, but the Boston Charles Rivers? I don’t care how much David Ortiz looks like a teddy bear, no one could get behind that.
So here goes my predictions: Game 1 is won by the Red Sox. Beckett throws a one-hit complete game shutout, and Manny Ramirez commits the game’s only error when he loses a fly ball in a cloud of marijuana smoke. Game 2 is a close one. Curt Schilling, his fastball losing velocity, has to rely on all the hot hair that comes out of his mouth to blow away the Rockies hitters. Game 3, I think the Rockies will win this one. It’ll be good for them. Game 4, Beckett again. Red Sox Win. Now the question is Game 5. I think the Red Sox should throw the game, so that way they can take the series back to Fenway Park and win the Series in front of the home crowd (Having won it on the road in 2004).
I’m just going to have to come right out and say it. This cartoon, sums up my feelings for Barack Obama at this early point in Election 08. I’ll submit to the fact that Barack is an excellent public speaker, but can’t we all admit his speeches are high on sentiment and low on substance? Ordinarily, I might just support Obama, but the frenzy of ‘hope and change’ he seems to be whipping everyone up into is alarming.
Mitt Romney has been 
So, some folks have asked me why I don’t like Hillary Clinton. Honestly, I don’t have a real policy-related reason for disliking her. Granted, I could try to articulate why it is that she irks me, and I could try to say that she’s 
An interesting 
1. A store called “
2. Lance Bass: So, Lance decided to make an appearance at this rather unremarkable bar called “
So the birthday celebration in Boston happened, and was–setting excluded–a good bit of fun. There was an impromptu game of 
It’s about time I made things a bit more personal here on The Digital Idiocy. Tonight I’m going to be taking a sojourn to the city of dreams, a bastion of booze, that sleepy eyed self professed hub-of-the-world Boston. The trip is being made to celebrate a friend’s birthday, and that–I’m afraid–is the only reason I would consent to traveling there. Now, I used to like Boston. It has a unique character, it’s home to my favorite sports team, I’ve many friends there. Yet, I’m sick of the scene. Too many Boston University students wearing trendy outfits, clinging to subway poles and riding the Green Line up and down Comm. Ave. Too many bars that close early and host endless seas of Red Sox baseball caps and the idiots underneath them. Too Many pretentious Harvard Twits dotting the sidewalks in Harvard Square across the Charles River, discoursing and not conversing over long hyphenated subjects like “pseudo-gender-confusion-stereotypes-in-post-modern-eastern European-societies”. Too many Dunkin’ Donuts, Dunkins, Double D’s, Dunks, DD’s. Too many serpentine avenues, one way streets, construction crews and back roads to outlying suburbs (here’s looking at you South Shore). Too much Boston. To make things worse, word on the street is that yours truly will have to abide some men-hating folk who think using big words like hegemony and patriarchy punch their ticket to intellectual station. It’s possible that I’m looking at this all a bit negatively. In fact, I certainly am. But seriously: Boston, What’s Up? Now: I’d like to share a video appropriate for the occasion.
The Chinese are going 
I propose for the first time in the history of the world–I hope, but not likely–an idea for an AntiSuperhero: “F**king Dude Man”. He is everyone and no one, and we all know who he is. He’s the man who bumped into you at the 
So, I have five minutes before the first pitch of the 2007 MLB World Series. What a great opportunity to fire off a few bon mots about a World Series that pits the New England’s lovable Red Sox against the Colorado Rockies. The Red Sox, as far as bean counters in Las Vegas are concerned, are the odds on favorites to take the Series. I’m inclined to agree. First of all, when did we start naming professional sports teams after mountain ranges? What if the Red Sox were not the Red Sox, but the Boston Charles Rivers? I don’t care how much David Ortiz looks like a teddy bear, no one could get behind that.
