Friday, June 29, 2012

Jimmy Buffett concert "review" - Niagara Pavilion / Burgettstown, PA (June 28, 2012)

I was just up in the realm of Starlake Amphitheater.  Some call it Post-Gazette.  Others Niagara.  If you insist on that angle, I prefer Generic Viagra Pavilion.  Has a nice ring to it.  Anyway, roughly 20,000+ (70% of which are imbeciles) descended upon Burgettstown last night.  For the most part, these people are an odd mixture of irreverent douchebags and wannabe calypso rockers.  You know the type of people who delight in going to one of those Texas-themed roadhouse restaurants and aggressively discard peanut shells on the floor.  They just can't resist. It's so much fun.  It's even encouraged.  Everyone's doing it.  Because we're all just that crazy.  Honestly, it's just another way to "amp up" the party.  Rest assured, they're are other ways.

1) Call the waitress "Darlin."
2) Ask if the potato skins have "baked potato appeal."
3) Periodically yell, "Yee-Haw" and then pretend it wasn't you.
4) As you're waiting in line, tell the person standing next to you, "Oh, I can't wait to strap on the old feed bag."
5) And of course... reminisce about prior Jimmy Buffett and Kenny Chesney concerts.  We saw Buffett here in '97.  He "blew the roof" off the place.  Yeah sure, of course he did.  What the fuck does that even mean?

Anyhoo, it got me to thinking.  At the Buffett shows, you see so many people bite the dust.  The EMTs are out in full force.  It's really an overtime, non-stop, EMT-extravaganza.  And at the venerable lake, when you go down, you get a face full of dusty rocks, smoky soot and remnants of parking lot shit all up in yo face.   So naturally, I comprised a list this evening...

It's divided into 2 parts (injury and death):

Top 5 ways to die at a Jimmy Buffett concert:

5) Strangulation - You decide to take a piss in the woods.  In midstream, you the hear the faint sounds of "Cheeseburger in Paradise."  Fuck it... the concert has begun.  He's opening up with a surprise cheeseburger.  Holy shit!  Instinctively, you run toward the venue, but your coconut bra becomes entangled on a tree limb.  As the song ventures toward its crescendo, you struggle to break free from the intransigent, mighty oak.  No such luck.  No show for you.  You just got choked out!  (Buffett style).  Do not confuse this with rectal impalement by tree.  We call that getting "Buffetted in the butthole."  As Mr. Miyagi solemnly said in Karate Kid Part II, "Don't know, never been attacked by tree."

4) Urinary related - I refuse to name names, but there was a limo/party bus crew at the 2005 PNC Park Jimmy Buffett concert.  They had the infamous Walmart port-a-toilet in the vehicle.  Needless to say, it was getting repeatedly filled to the brim with reckless abandon.  Choosing a location to dump the urine was an easy task.  Some next door tailgaters had one of those shallow, kiddie wading pools.  Whenever they departed to scope out the scene, someone would discreetly empty the toilet's liquid content into the pool.  Sure enough, when the unknowing victims returned from their drunken escapades, they'd jump in the pool and whimsically splash about.  It was a good 'ol fashioned pee party.  Granted, this is not a way to die.  But the limo crew could have died from uromysitisis if they had decided to "hold it." (in an early Seinfeld episode, Jerry's looking for the lost car in a parking garage and a cop arrests him for public urination).   Uromysitisis is some serious shit!  He could have died.

3) Broken neck/concussion - Your sloppy, drunk-ass friend (ironically, his name is Dick) stumbles into a spirited game of cornhole (in  Pennsylvania they use the more sophisticated term "bean bag toss").  He does a face plant directly into the actual "hole" in the board.  Fortunately, it's the "Eat Shit Pitt" one, not the "Let's Go, Mountaineers" one.  But he literally has become one with the board.  You will become one... with the board (Jean Luc Picard - Star Trek Next Generation).

As he struggles to his feet, his head is literally jutting out from the board.  He's wearing the cornhole game as if it were mere garb.  The crowd begins to chant, "Eat Shit, Dick. Eat Shit, Dick."  Suddenly, he lunges forward and falls back to the ground.  His neck violently snaps.  We call this being "adorned with board."

2) Marijuana related - No one has ever died from marijuana.  WRONG!  There's always this one frat dude at every Buffett show.  He prides himself on the fact that he has NEVER done illegal drugs.  But he also prides himself on the ability to drink 10 Miller Lites per hour.  So at that rate... 4 hours of tailgating = 40 beers.  Although he has never smoked, he's having the time of his life... so he impetuously asks his friend Tootie for a drag off her cigarette.  But unknown to him, it's a deadly hand-rolled marijuana cigarette.  That one toke puts him in a coma.  He just got smoked out!  We call this "wasted away again in marijuanaville."

1) Death by Parrot Pecking and Winged Suffocation - There's always this one older, bearded man.  He slightly resembles Jerry Garcia, wears a tweed jacket and is smoking a pipe.  This old-schooler brings an actual, live parrot to the concert.  He has trained to parrot to say, "son of a son of a sailor."  I was standing nearby when some drunken bimbo got in an argument with the parrot.  She verbally tears into the bird, "That's Saf.  He's ain't no sailor."  (slurring her words badly) "That's a son of a son of a Saf, you stupid bird."  Well, the bird has had enough of the taunting and verbal abuse.  It launches itself toward the girl's face and violently starts pecking.  She tries to ward off the frenzied attack, but to no avail.  The parrot opens its wing span and engulfs the bleached bimbette's head.

Top 5 ways to be seriously injured at a Jimmy Buffett concert

The first 3 ways are exclusively vision related.

5) Lime-related injury -  That new flavor of the month, Bud Light Lime just ain't gonna cut it.  Not for a jolly-man show!  Did Trinity remember to pack the ziplock bag filled with meticulously cut lime wedges?  Of course, she did.  Cuz it's not a true Buffett show without a case of Corona.  Unfortunately, her boyfriend Toby gets a little carried away.  He needs that one extra lime.  He goes for the squeeze and Trinity gets some pulp in the eye.  God damn-it, that stings!  "Hey, pulp can move baby!" (George Costanza).  

4) Sand in the eye - Some Buffett-infused tailgaters really know how to bringeth the sights and sounds of Miami Beach.  And they bring that heralded joy straight to the Burgettstown, PA exit conveniently located off route 22.  They pull up in a massive GMC Envoy.  On the back window, someone has written "Life's a beach!"  "Buffett or bust!"  How inventive.  Not to be outdone, their personalized license plate reads "CHZBRGR" - I can die now.  Anyway, some body builder dude jumps outta the back seat and rips open a giant back of sand.  An hour in to the tailgate, some little, scrawny kid tries to make a sandcastle replica of something that resembles Heinz Field.  The muscle ripped, steroid man kicks sand in the kid's face.  We call this getting "Mr. Fuji'd."

Mr. Fuji is the salt throwing heel from Tokyo, Japan.  Just FYI - his tag team partner was Mr. Saito and he hailed from... drumroll please... Osaka.  F'in Osaka.  If the mother fucker can't speak the language, he don't deserve to hold the title belt.  I hope Rick Martel and Tony Gonorrhea kick their asses.  Multiple dropkicks can serve as a legitimate finishing maneuver.

3) Shark fin tears the retina - Yep, someone went that extra mile and made real, mammoth shark fins from plaster of paris.  These aren't the crappy, inflatable knock-offs.  They're attached to the hood of the  Caddy, kind of like Boss Hog's horns.  Sure enough, some youthful Buffetteer accidentally turns his head.  Wrong place, poor judgment, bad timing - all the elements of any evening spent at a Parrothead show.  The fin mercilessly rips through the delicate cornea.  No lasik for you (Soup Nazi in paradise).

2) Carbon monoxide poisoning - This one sometimes results in death, but usually just burnt mouth.  It's the same fraternity dude from the marijuana incident.  He passes out next to the ample shade of the limo.  As he starts to awaken, he triumphantly wraps his mouth around the exhaust pipe.  When the emergency med techs arrive to treat him for 2nd degree burns, he hazily replies, "Man, I thought it was a beer bong."

1) Limbo concussion/foot burn - Yep, gotta join the party.  Time to doooo the limboooo.  But it's just too low and you is too fat.  It wasn't meant to be this way.  So inevitably the question arises, "Just how low can you go?"  Well... you try your best, but fall straight backwards.  Your skull violently bounces off the lot pavement.  As you rise to your feet and start to regain composure, someone offers you a super-duper Jager-jello shot.  You reply, "Nah, I'm gonna take it easy for a bit.  Then, you calmly turn around and step right in a pile of hot coals.  There's a simple name for this one.  It's just called the "ol' one two."

Hope you enjoyed the annual Buffett show.  I tried to snag a free ticket but was declined on 4 separate occasions.  Sucked.  Somehow... some way...  I will try and summon the pieces of my shattered life and move forward.

Thursday, June 28, 2012


In one of the most heavily anticipated Supreme Court rulings over the last 100 years or so, my only question is this...  how did CNN manage to fuck everything up?  Talk about Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition.  Tom Hanks, try this one for size...

10 minutes later!  Aren't these supposed to be the best and brightest minds in the world of journalism?  For Christ sake, these are the journa-jisms that cover the U.S. Supreme Court.  They're supposed to be the cream of the crop.  Maybe they should start using the hobos who hang outside West Virginia Business College.  My hunch is they'd be chain smoking on the steps outside the Supreme Court and the conversation would unfold like this...

Bubba Ray:  "They're a sayin' the verdick's in!"

Jimbo: "Well daggum-it, whadda we do now?"

Bubba Ray: "I got an idear.  Let's just wait and see what the other news station says.  And den we'll just copycat their stupid asses!"

Jimbo: "Yeah!  Great idea, Bubba!"

This would be the Fox News approach.  Seriously, why even bother to try and break the news first when you already know it's all about the slant and spin?  At least, MSNBC got it right.  I guess Fox did as well (about 15 minutes later).  Fuck it... 2 out three ain't bad.

Anyway, I heard CNN's crack-team of journalists (heavy emphasis on the word "crack") are working on some new headlines...

Breaking News: 

Jerry Sandusky innocent on all counts.  Set to replace Kathleen Sebelius as Director of the Department of Health and Human Services.

Michelle Obama to undergo sex change operation.  Will become the first ever "Second Dude."

Portugal Downs Spain on penalty kicks.  Spain is out.

Osama Bin Laden seen partying with Batboy at the 19th Hole in Wheeling, WV.  Bar tab includes bucket of Bud Light Lime and capacola sub (purposely misspelled).

Sonofsaf embraces Catholicism.  Undergoes rare crick baptismal.


We've seen this shit happen before and I'm not talkin' Dewey vs. Truman.

Does anyone remember Gabby Giffords?  She's dead.  No wait, she's alive.  Well, it doesn't really matter I guess.  You see... she got shot (Forrest Gump explaining what happened to his friend Bubba).  

I guess my point is this.  When the real shit breaks (the stampedes), it will be utter chaos and absolute confusion.  If we can't get the most "respected, trusted" lead source to get it right when they have weeks to adequately prepare, how on earth will they have a clue when the shit unfolds in real-time.

Saturday, June 23, 2012

U.S. Supreme Court sketch

Here's an artist's sketch of my brother Bennett in the U.S. Supreme Court.  He's the bearded one with glasses (seated to the right of attorney Sean Gallagher who's standing, arguing the case).  They represented the Secret Service in the case Reichle vs. Howards a couple months ago.  He wrote the brief.  And cue the drum roll please........  they were on the receiving end of a unanimous verdict.  8-0 (Justice Elena Kagan recused herself due to a conflict of interests).

If there was ever any doubt (trust me, there isn't), my brother is the complete definition of bad ass.  Just not the customary West Virginia definition.

Gockey (golf/hockey)... a great game currently embraced by no one

During my teen years, I invented an easy outdoor game.  To this day, I've never seen anyone replicate the idea.  It requires 3 things.  All inexpensive.  A hockey stick, some different colored inflatable bouncy balls (the kind you used to see at the end of the aisle in the large wire containers at the supermarket - they usually cost between $1.00 - $2.00) and a few large inner tubes (in West Virginia, we call 'em intertubes).  You can buy them from any tire wholesaler for about $6 or so.  If you'd rather not purchase intertubes, you can use discarded tires.  But intertubes are definitely superior. 

If you don't wish to purchase the rubberized inflatable balls, just swing by a McDonalds play pen and physically seize them.  As you exit, it's customary to yell, "Pink slime, mother fuckers!"  Higher end Micky D's sometimes have an indoor, urine-soaked, bouncy ball, bladder-filled fun room.  Or maybe you could hit up the local county fair kiddie zone (Sandusky style, of course) with a giant trash bag and perform some kind of "snatch and stash." 

The fundamental concept of gockey is the same as golf.  Your mission - get the bouncy ball to land inside the confines of the inner tube.  Simply tee off with a decent sized swing (similar to a light slap shot).  You can actually get the ball to fade and hook depending on your stance and the physical exertion of your swing.  And the strength of the wind is often a factor.  Just set up the inner tubes around any decent sized plot of land.  An acre is usually sufficient.  The more obstacles, the better - trees, a shed, tall grass, a pool, etc.  Hillside terrain makes it significantly more entertaining.  If you reside in Kansas, I would suggest it's time to move.  Long overdue because you suck... based solely on your decision to reside there.  But let me be clear, I do have the utmost respect for University of Kansas Chancellor Bernadette Gray-Little, despite her complete failure to acknowledge either of the letters I sent her (the first one dated March 1, 2012 and the second one dated April 20, 2012).

Par 3's, 4's and 5's are the norm.  Anything concrete or asphalt (roads, driveways, etc) is the same as landing in water (add a penalty stroke and take a drop next to where it made initial contact).  As you approach the intertube, you'll use the hockey stick to "lift the ball in" rather than take a full swing.  It's easy once you get the hang of it.  A great man once said, "Any idiot can do it.  You can do it."

Some of the inner tubes can be partially deflated (adds a new dimension and makes you strategically adjust).  Hole-in-ones are rare but happen every once in a while.  Keeping score is easy.  Once again, I must reiterate... Any idiot can do it.  You can do it.

The true beauty of "gockey" is the derivation of the root word "gock" which is a combination of gut and cock.  It's comparable to the female equivalent "gunt" (the midsection where gut merges with cunt).  Oddly enough, I am the originator/founder of the word "gock" as is well referenced in the "Art" chapter of my Odd oh Biography.  You've likely grown accustomed to hearing the more urbane, sophisticated term... muffintop.  But let me assure, the future is pure gunt.  And the future is grim.

Another cool thing about gockey is that it's pretty damn cheap.  Golf and hockey are really expensive sports for kids.  You're always upgrading and replacing clubs, shoes, gloves, skates.  And there's always the green fees and hockey association membership dues.  Not so with gockey.  The only "repair" kit you might need is a handheld air pump.  Occasionally, the bouncy balls will deflate a bit after receiving repeated Sandusky-esque hammerings.  But all in all, they're pretty resilient. 

Gockey is fun for the entire family (ages 6-60).  If you truly wish to be "lovin' the fam" (from what I can tell, anything that involves "lovin the fam" is all the new rage on facebook), I suggest you climb aboard now.  Giddey-up (Kramer)!

Thursday, June 21, 2012

cotton candy... room for improvement

I've never been a big fan of cotton candy.   Considering Mayor Bloomberg's recent crackdown on giant sodas (in West Virginia we call 'em pops), I'm surprised he hasn't tried to reign in the sugar-aeration industry.  Seriously though, why do people consume this shit?  Personally, I think the stuff looks like crooked boxing promoter Don King's up-do.

Think about it.

You're at a Buccos game.  It's hot and sticky, somewhere in the realm of 7800 degrees fahrenheit.  The 2005 American Idol winner "Daughtry" is about to serve up a late-night can of whoop ass to a rocking crowd of 2,004 fans who braved a Pirates 8-2 loss to the St. Louis Cardinals.  An elderly Zelienople grandmother casually picks her nose as she lectures a group of raucous teens about fan etiquette.  The faint smell of body odor stagnates next to a Joe the Plumber lookalike.  In the all-you-can-eat outfield section, a fat slob valiantly tries to text his buddy.  The auto-correct does a fairly decent job despite the rotundity of his forefinger.   All of a sudden, a roving concessionaire cries out "COTTON CANDY... HERE !!!!"  It's some new up'n'comer trying to follow in the footsteps of the recently deceased "lemonade guy."

This self-anointed "sugar daddy" hoists a wide palette of pink mayhem above his head.  Nearby children marvel at the deceptive feat of strength (Frank Costanza).  A 9 year old preteen wearing a t-shirt that reads "Princess Hottie" yells to her father, "Daddy... gimme money!  I want cotton candy.  It's pink.  LOL.  Ya know, for boobie cancer awareness month!"  The entire section lets out a collective laugh.  Her mom jubilantly addresses the audience, "Ohh Chantilly, you're such a ham!"  She blurts back, "Mommy, I thought we were kosher."  Yet again, the crowd submits to the spontaneous chicanery.  Praise the joy.

Enough.  So here's my point.  Why is cotton candy, once termed candy floss and even "fairy floss" by the Aussies, always the color pink?  It's merely a dye-infused option.  I realize the color pink visually grabs the consumer.  But why not design the cotton candy so it's consistent with the colors of the team?  In Pixburgh, yep you guessed it, it would be black and gold.  If your team's the Ravens, then yeah... it's purple.  If you're unfortunate enough to reside in Cleveland, it's brown.  If you're at the gay pride parade, it's all the magical colors of the rainbow.

I believe this idea has merit.

A.  It's a tremendous visual.

B.  It preys upon the douchebag who wraps their entire identity around the local sports team (the most susceptible, easiest pigeon next to compulsive/impulsive purse buying women).

C.  It's really easy.  Just change the color of the dye.

D.  Conceptually, it's the pure essence of what just about every dumbshit perceives as "fun" or a "good time."  We bought the cotton candy, because we were having a great time.  We had so much fun.

E.  Great profit margin.  Isn't that crap usually about 5 bucks for some puffy caloric-infused air on an old paper towel roll?

So there you have it.  Off the heels of A.G.S. prevention, yet another attempt to help change the world and make it a better place.  If you steal my idea, that's fine.  Just call it sonofsugar, sonofsucrose or something comparable.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

important dates #4 / viral blitzkrieg / artificially generated stampede

As part of my ongoing effort to raise awareness relating to the artificially generated stampede, I mailed a batch of letters this afternoon.  They were sent to 25 individuals.  These are the people who have responded to my concerns during the time frame of March 1, 2012 > June 20, 2012.  I have accumulated  a total of 27 written responses.  4 individuals responded twice.  At this time, I will neither divulge the content of any responses nor openly document whom I have spoken with.  For this blog, I chose to omit the brief description of a "viral blitzkrieg." 

Content of the letter...

June 20, 2012

In prior correspondence, I informed you and your peers of the unique danger presented by the potential for artificially generated stampedes.  Whether it was responding to my letters or taking the initiative to contact me, you are now part of a group that has recognized a profoundly changed dynamic in stadium security.  A brief perusal of the cc list will verify that you are in good company.  Your feedback has helped reinforce two inescapable conclusions: 

    •      There is a clear and present danger in large crowds equipped with cellular communication devices.

    •      There still exists a prevailingly myopic, isolated approach to stadium security.  While there is ample concern for stadium security on an individual basis, the entire NCAA Division I community as a whole appears neglected.

In my second letter, I identified three significant ways to initiate a stampede.  Recently, I have developed an additional, even deeper concern for something I've termed a "viral blitzkrieg."

conceptual description of the viral blitzkrieg has been omitted

This represents yet another way to compromise emergency evacuation protocol.  These concerns extend to the National Football League as well, particularly the Sunday afternoon slate of games.  I notified NFL ownership and Commissioner Roger Goodell in letters dated May 1, 2012.  As of this writing, there has been no response.  

A comprehensive, unified plan to adequately handle these threats does not exist.  The state of inaction on behalf of the federal government and private industry demonstrates a severe lack of oversight and accountability.  This is largely the result of conflicting interests and the inability to recognize stampedes as a national security issue.  I realize this places you in a difficult position and I sympathize.

I originally provided seven bullet point suggestions to help counteract the problems associated with the artificially generated stampede.  In retrospect, I may have overreached.  I was viewing the dilemma you would face in the aftermath of a tragedy.  However, my basic contention remains the same.  You have a fundamental obligation to warn people in stadiums that under no circumstance would they receive an evacuation order via their cellphones.  A dialogue must be opened, even if it is a minimal one.  It needs to start somewhere.  I would strongly urge you to incorporate one of the two following statements and routinely loop either of them through your game day public address system.  Both of them should be consistent with your current stadium evacuation protocol.

    •     A stadium evacuation order can only be delivered via the public address system.

    •     Under no circumstance would you receive a stadium evacuation order from your cellphone (or cellular communication device).

Stadium evacuation procedure is an incredibly sensitive issue.  And for good reason.  Evacuations set a terrible precedent.  Other than incidents involving inclement weather, they're just simply not supposed to happen.  I completely understand this.  Yet, that does not mean the subject can be neglected.  If you still remain skeptical, simply do some empirical research.  Pose these questions to anyone:

    •      What would happen if large numbers of fans simultaneously received a text message conveying imminent danger and/or the demand to immediately evacuate?  What if the message's content had more explosive connotations?

    •      What would transpire if stadium attendees suddenly learned of stampedes at other major college football venues?  My gut instinct tells me they would immediately seek to exit.

These are real-time, real-world questions that desperately need to be addressed.  Although the artificially generated stampede is a hypothetical scenario, it is an easily identifiable generic concept.  Its premise harkens back to "shouting fire in a crowded theater."  If you doubt its inevitability, you must ask yourself a few critical questions.  Regardless of time and location, is the prediction of an artificially generated stampede a reasonable one?  Will a scenario of this nature unfold in the future?  Could cellular text messages extend beyond concerns of privacy and nuisance, resulting in matters of life or death?  An objective analysis will compel you to reluctantly admit that yes, at some point during the course of humanity, an artificially generated stampede will occur.  This might sound disconcerting, but it WILL happen because it CAN happen.  It's simply a matter of where and when, scope and magnitude.  An untold chapter in the collision of technology and humanity.

It has been a challenge being straightforward, especially when the acceptable parameters are ill-defined.  Throughout our correspondence there were certain words I was reluctant to put in writing.  And there are several pertinent issues I have purposely omitted (stampede dynamics, generational warfare, the jurisdiction of federal and state government, the nullification of OODA loops and fundamental human rights).  Suffice to say, I've left a lot on the table. 

I've tried my best to maintain a dispassionate and analytical tone.  But it's difficult when the stakes are immeasurably high and the public dialogue, nonexistent.  With regard to the subjects I have raised, I believe the status quo is unacceptable and unsustainable.  The prospect of an artificially generated stampede and the potential for the domino effect are moral issues.  If you engage in future high level discussions, I would ask to be included.  I've done extensive research and believe I'd be a valuable asset to the conversation.  These matters are time-sensitive.  I will come to you.  All I ask is that you listen.  Just listen.


contact information omitted

President E. Gordon Gee, The Ohio State University
President Teresa A. Sullivan, University of Virginia
President James F. Barker, Clemson University
President Diana Natalicio, The University of Texas at El Paso
President Michael F. Adams, University of Georgia
Chief of Staff Jack G. Johnson, University of Washington
Chief of Police/Director of Public Safety, Michael Cureton, University of Cincinnati
President Richard L. McCormick, Rutgers, The State University of New Jersey
Chancellor Brady Deaton, University of Missouri
Chancellor Harvey Perlman, University of Nebraska
Office of the President, University of Southern California
Associate University Counsel Anne Murray, University of New Mexico
Interim President Robert M. Berdahl, University of Oregon
Chief of Police Bob Roberts, West Virginia University
Vice President Sherwood G. Wilson, Administrative Services, Virginia Tech
President Sue W. Martin, Eastern Michigan University
President Mohammed H. Qayoumi, San Jose State University
Vice President Kyle J. Cavanaugh, Duke University
Superintendent Lieutenant General Michael C. Gould, United States Air Force Academy
President Rodney A. Erickson, Penn State
Chief of Police/Associate Vice Chancellor Susan Riseling, University of Wisconsin
Commanding Colonel Michael J. Tarsa, United States Military Academy
Captain Brad Rhodes, Clemson University
Director Lou Marciani, National Center for Spectator Sports Safety and Security
Director Jonathan Roark, Emergency Preparedness & Business Continuity,
Texas Christian University


My concerns are well documented in my book.  Despite my best efforts to bring this issue to the forefront, I expect my mission will fail.  I predict a maximum of 2 people will call me and consider implementing my suggestions regarding stadium security.  I also predict the artificially generated stampedes will occur sooner, rather than later (possibly in early or mid-September of this year).  If events unfold as I anticipate, it will likely replace "jobs and the economy" as the lead issue in the 2012 presidential election.  In the aftermath of such a tragedy, American citizens will demand a thorough investigation as to why nothing was done in the realm of awareness or prevention.  When it's discovered that many in the Obama administration were cognizant of the issue and did nothing, general sentiment will turn heavily against the Democratic party.  Furthermore, assuming my hunches are accurate, I think Mitt Romney will easily win in a landslide.  Although unlikely, I would not dismiss a 538-0 electoral count victory as a possible outcome.

Friday, June 15, 2012

Jerry Sandusky bucket list

Oddly enough, my previous blog (Jerry Sandusky warped "Seinfeld adaptation" humor) has received a good deal of hits.  Likely due to the fact that his trial is underway on the national news circuit.  Personally, I enjoy this more nuanced type of sick humor, but I realize the general public needs things a little more spelled out.  Since it's so irrevocably difficult to maintain the attention span of Mr. & Mrs. John Q America, I came up with another list.  As you might expect, this one is even worse. 

Sooo... before he gets thrown in the federal penitentiary, I give you the first ever "Jerry Sandusky Bucket List."

10) Enter Coney Island hot dog eating contest.  Practice makes perfect.

9) Secure a cashier position with Bed, Bath & Beyond specializing in sales of "Soap on a Rope" and "Mr. Bubble."

8) Obtain street cred among the youth with thug nickname Jerry "Jer-Bear" Sandusky.

7) Market an improved line of Grecian Formula specifically tailored for elder pubic zones.

6) Install multiple signs at Happy Valley that read "Parking in the rear."

5) Audition for the starring role in the comeback of "Leave it to Beaver" as the 1950's series returns to national prominence.

4) Compose reggae-infused chart topping hit "I put the poke in Poke Mon."

3) Move to Idaho and run for Senate as a Republican.  Campaign slogan "Drop your pants cuz I gotta wide stance" becomes a rallying cry in the hearts and minds of the rural, Catholic hierarchy.

2) Devise entirely new, stunning, aquatic-based format for ABC's "Dancing With the Stars."

1) Design new line of Boy Scouts all-purpose outerwear.  The theme... "Catholic priests are soooo 20th century.  There's a new sheriff in town.  First name Jerry.  Last name Sandusky."

Tuesday, June 05, 2012

Jerry Sandusky / warped Seinfeld adaptation humor

Last night, Gigi told me she's heading to State College (Bellefonte, PA) to cover the Jerry Sandusky trial.  Oh, happy day.  Rather than go for the obvious regurgitated low-brow-canned-humor-one-liner-jokes, I remembered that several people at WPXI are self-proclaimed Seinfeld aficionados.  So I devised this loosely related Seinfeldesque top 6 list.  I was going to do a Top 10, but I need to get a shower and I'm afraid my water pressure is going to fade out (as it routinely does on a 7 hour cycle).

Remember, these aren't one-liners.  They're adaptations... so you have to give me some "bloggetic" latitude. 

Top 6 Seinfeld related observations about Jerry Sandusky:

1) Cedar Point and Sandusky have one thing in common: they both treat their bodies like an amusement park. (masturbation episode)

2) (referencing his testicles) They're real, and they're spectacular! (Salman Rushdie episode)

3) "Nobody sodomizes like me.  Nobody.  I'm doing things in this locker room... you have no idea what's going on."  (George Costanza in the parking spot dispute episode.  He's talking to Elaine while they're driving back from the flea market... explaining his phenomenal driving skills).

4) "Jerry (Sandusky), just remember, it's not a lie if you believe it."  (lie detector episode)

5) "I don't trust the guy.  I think he molested, then he remolested, and now he's using a charitable organization as a springboard to a Happy Valley sex romp."  (Superbowl/ baby label maker jr.  episode).

6) You very bad man, Jerry.  Very bad man. - (Pakistani deportation episode w/ Babu)


I'll come up with another 4 and finish it up later.  The convenient alliteration (Jerry Seinfeld/Jerry Sandusky) really helps the cause.  And yeah, I know... it's in horribly bad taste.  I might alter the format.  Say... "Jerry Sandusky to stand trial, not Jerry Seinfeld.  Confusion persists."