I took advantage of a rare opportunity yesterday. I went to hear Newt Gingrich (former Speaker of the House) speak at the Capitol Music Hall. As I approached the venue, there was a lone protester across the street with a sign that read
"Newt, where's your wife? ... FAMILY VALUES"
The sign was mangy, very ghetto and appeared hastily written. I gave the man a brief thumbs down and headed in. I had to sign in so I used my alias Eric Stone and my neighbor's address. I hope he gets plenty of teabagger-oriented direct mail in the future.
What was reported as a crowd of over 1,200 looked like about 700 tops. The crowd was overwhelmingly old and white. Not much of a minority presence but I honestly wasn't expecting that to be the case. I quietly took a seat on the right side. I couldn't help but notice an armed presence on both sides of the stage. 3 cops were on hand and several were outside milling in the lobby. The 3 cops directly in front kind of reminded me of The Doors movie when Jim Morrison's on stage and he harasses them. Rest assured, I had no plans to tar and feather Newt (Benny Hinn style) or even resort to the age-old "pie in the face" routine.
I must say, Newt is an incredibly gifted speaker. The speech itself centered around 5 main themes - be true to yourself, dream big, get an education, blah... Do you get the drift? Have you garnered my inference? I will say one thing though. At least he adapted the speech to fit the citizens and challenges of the Ohio Valley. And he did a very effective job. His biggest applause lines came when he railed against Hollywood and the 9th circuit. However, he did put forth an incredibly effective slogan -
2+2=5.
Basically, it's a call for personal and governmental fiscal responsibility and accountability. The idea being, that if it doesn't sound right, it won't ad up. This would make a tremendous campaign theme for the Republicans in 2010. I would not be surprised if we see it in the future. The Republicans need a more resonant message than the endless, wuss-sounding homoerotic teabag refrain. Teabag? Just sounds plain weird and kind of has this elitist European twang. If I were a corpulent Republican 7th Day Adventist conservative running for office in the deep south, here's the slogan I would use...
2+2=5
OBAMANOMICS
It's simple, powerful and sets a good framework for delivering a message of fiscal sanity in the wake of massive government spending. A prominent Republican, maybe a John Boehner (R-OH), should latch onto this. I'll never be a Republican spokesman, but trust me on this one.
Back to Newt's speech... He really is a gifted orator. I can see why the Republicans rallied around him in the early Clinton years. At the end of the speech, he took about 5 or 6 questions. I was really tempted to address him but chickened out. I was going to ask either of these 2 questions.
Mr. Ex-Speaker, during your speech you stressed the importance of science and education. The Republican party appears to be very anti-science these days, particularly regarding the theory of evolution. As a former professor and scholar, and having a major leadership role in the Republican party, how would resolve this inconsistency?
My other question which I really liked was...
Mr. Ex-Speaker, as an observer of the Georgia political scene, shortly after 9/11 in 2002, I followed the defeat of Max Clelland (D) to current Georgia Senator Saxby Chambliss (R). It was regarded as one of the nastiest campaigns in U.S. history. Clelland was a triple amputee Vietnam veteran. Chambliss got repeated draft deferments during Vietnam because of his "bad knee." Chambliss' prominent tv ad implied that Clelland was a Bin Laden sympathizer and Al Quada supporter because he voted against a funding measure for the Department of Homeland Security. Do you think these political ads were reasonable and/or justified?
I would loved to see how the crowd responded to either of these. I wonder how many in the crowd would have known what the hell I'm talking about in regard to the 2nd question. I'm guessing about 5-10%, possibly more. I should have made my way to the front. I just seem to lack "balls" these days - I think it's called testicular fortitude. However, I am going to see Pearl Jam in Philly at the end of the month. That requires a minimal amount of passion.
All in all, I came away from Newt's speech with a better understanding and appreciation of the guy. If the Republican party wishes a a return to power, they should follow his lead. But they'll probably stick with the hot-button issues - abortion, guns and anything anti-gay. Anything that enrages and rallies the base. A word of advice for any Republican running for national office. Put the bible away for a year or so. Use a hand held calculator as a prop instead. And focus more on Congress cuz against Obama you got NO CHANCE.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Burlington Coat Factory Woman
Yesterday, a woman from Columbus, Ohio rented a Hummer limo and was dropped off in front of a Burlington Coat Factory. She told the crowd she had just won the lottery (1.5 million) and was going to pay for their purchases. Of course, she hadn't won shit. She was just a moron seeking adoration from anonymous strangers. Anyway, when the crowd finally determined it was all a hoax a riot ensued. Customers trashed the place and many made off with stolen merchandise.
I find this story amusing because it involves 2 things I have great disdain for (limos and the lottery). I'd like to encourage someone to try this in Wheeling. I'd even be willing to drive and you don't have to tip me.
We could hit TJ's Sportsgarden for the lunch rush. We'll pull up directly in front of the entrance and I'll put the hazards on. That will help create a minimal buzz. Can you fathom some idiots paying a grand for a limo and then having the wisdom to dine at TJ's. Sounds about right. Anyway, I'd love to see the fall-out from this one. You make the same announcement. Lunch and drinks are on me! People start ordering the most expensive item on the menu. I'm not sure what it is - maybe something called "Beef Tips and Noodles." People at the bar start ordering endless shots (probably Jagerbombs and Irish Car Bombs).
After you make a hasty exit, word starts to gradually spread that it was all a hoax. When the bills and bar tabs are delivered, people go apeshit. If I were there, I'd whip out a Swiss army knife and start carving up the felt surface of the pool tables. You could carve the words "Wheeling Feeling." Some drunken slob could knock over the popcorn machine. Little kids could piss outside the urinals. All the waitresses would be blowing those whistles around their necks. Total, absolute chaos.
On the way out, maybe the mob could tip over the TJ's delivery mobile. Have you seen this thing? Apparently, the new hotel up the road doesn't have room service but you can have food delivered from TJ's. Have you seen their Philly cheese steak lunch special? Wouldn't it be funny when someone orders that thing and they get that miniaturized shaved steak-um sandwich? The "famous" coleslaw (I'm not sure why it's designated as famous) would have spilled all over the sandwich. Mmmm, soggified steak-um shit. I wonder how many people have been dissatisfied with their meals and tried to send them back. I don't envy that delivery driver. He/she has their work cut out for them.
I find this story amusing because it involves 2 things I have great disdain for (limos and the lottery). I'd like to encourage someone to try this in Wheeling. I'd even be willing to drive and you don't have to tip me.
We could hit TJ's Sportsgarden for the lunch rush. We'll pull up directly in front of the entrance and I'll put the hazards on. That will help create a minimal buzz. Can you fathom some idiots paying a grand for a limo and then having the wisdom to dine at TJ's. Sounds about right. Anyway, I'd love to see the fall-out from this one. You make the same announcement. Lunch and drinks are on me! People start ordering the most expensive item on the menu. I'm not sure what it is - maybe something called "Beef Tips and Noodles." People at the bar start ordering endless shots (probably Jagerbombs and Irish Car Bombs).
After you make a hasty exit, word starts to gradually spread that it was all a hoax. When the bills and bar tabs are delivered, people go apeshit. If I were there, I'd whip out a Swiss army knife and start carving up the felt surface of the pool tables. You could carve the words "Wheeling Feeling." Some drunken slob could knock over the popcorn machine. Little kids could piss outside the urinals. All the waitresses would be blowing those whistles around their necks. Total, absolute chaos.
On the way out, maybe the mob could tip over the TJ's delivery mobile. Have you seen this thing? Apparently, the new hotel up the road doesn't have room service but you can have food delivered from TJ's. Have you seen their Philly cheese steak lunch special? Wouldn't it be funny when someone orders that thing and they get that miniaturized shaved steak-um sandwich? The "famous" coleslaw (I'm not sure why it's designated as famous) would have spilled all over the sandwich. Mmmm, soggified steak-um shit. I wonder how many people have been dissatisfied with their meals and tried to send them back. I don't envy that delivery driver. He/she has their work cut out for them.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
rare church dinner
On Tuesday, September 22 I was given 2 tickets for a church dinner at the United Methodist Church in Elm Grove. A total retail value of $16.00. Far be it from me to dismiss a free dinner. I'd be willing to dine with some of the most despised figures in history (Hitler, Stalin, Obama, etc.) provided they feed me. So Friday was the big day. Justin, Danno and I had just finished golfing at Wheeling Puke. Before heading to the Alpha, I deemed it necessary to cash in these tickets. Elm Grove was a traffic nightmare. Translated into Wheeling terms that means there was a line of over 50 cars on National Road which would take an 5 extra minutes. We parked and headed in.
I had never been to this particular church and you could tell there was a definable, palpable sense of excitement in the air. We calmly entered the recreational center of this house of God. There were a few people congregated by the door and for one brief second, my scalping instincts almost kicked in. Hell, I could have gotten 2 for $15. Fortunately, I reconsidered. It would have been in incredibly poor taste - trying to dish off 2 comp dinner tix w/ the negligible dollar off.
I couldn't help but notice - this crowd was kind of like an Ohio County Mehlman's Cafeteria. Very old. A virtual zephyr of cascading white hair. I'd say about 120 men and women were there, all over the age of 70. I spotted about 3 children. Of course, we got there early (about 5:10pm), well before the probable dinner rush, well before they got the party started up in the church n'at. We quickly zipped to a back room and were warmly greeted. Asked to make our selections, Justin opted for dark meat and Dutch apple pie. I went for the more conventional white meat and chocolate cake. Armed with a Riesbeck's bag of multiple styrofoam containers, we bolted for the door. I dropped him off and zipped to the Alpha. I would later eat my dinner around 8pm.
Here are my observations. I applaud the organizational and efficiency efforts of the Methodists. We were in and out in easily less than 3 minutes. Their preparation was stellar. I thought it might be one of those scenarios where we had to wait in a long buffet line, where elderly people made mindless chit chat about the weather and if there were any low sodium selections. Not the case.
All the food tasted great, but had an overwhelming mushlike consistency. Of course, I would expect that mashed potatoes have a creamy origin, but the chicken breast also had this overcooked, melt-in-your-mouth vibe. The green beans - same thing. They kind of disintegrated and became one with the soaked oil/margarine conglomerate. The coleslaw, aka mushslaw, was presented in an ill-sized container. The miniaturized roll was quite good. My chocolate cake came with a tiny container of some kind of pomegranate puree adornment. More likely it was raspberry jello topping.
So here's my final review of church dinner...
The food was just way too mushy. There's probably a direct correlation between mushiness and lack of teeth.
The energy level in the place was slightly below mediocre.
The service and cooperation were outstanding. I'll refer to this as the overall quality of the production.
Fortunately, nobody tried to convert me. This event was not prepared for a good old fashioned food fight. Could you imagine the headline in the Wheeling today?
FOOD FIGHT
At 5:03pm Friday, Wheeling police responded to a food fight at 125 Kruger Street. Local police used pepper spray to contain an irate Eric Saferstein. Apparently, his combative nature was the direct result of an earlier argument. A United Methodist Church representative claimed he was hurling accusations at the dinner crowd. "A pox on your house of worship. A pox on your godless gruel! It's all mushified damnit! Jesus Christ died for this chicken dinner!"
The Wheeling Police Chief later commented, "We had to take the biatch down, G20 style."
I had never been to this particular church and you could tell there was a definable, palpable sense of excitement in the air. We calmly entered the recreational center of this house of God. There were a few people congregated by the door and for one brief second, my scalping instincts almost kicked in. Hell, I could have gotten 2 for $15. Fortunately, I reconsidered. It would have been in incredibly poor taste - trying to dish off 2 comp dinner tix w/ the negligible dollar off.
I couldn't help but notice - this crowd was kind of like an Ohio County Mehlman's Cafeteria. Very old. A virtual zephyr of cascading white hair. I'd say about 120 men and women were there, all over the age of 70. I spotted about 3 children. Of course, we got there early (about 5:10pm), well before the probable dinner rush, well before they got the party started up in the church n'at. We quickly zipped to a back room and were warmly greeted. Asked to make our selections, Justin opted for dark meat and Dutch apple pie. I went for the more conventional white meat and chocolate cake. Armed with a Riesbeck's bag of multiple styrofoam containers, we bolted for the door. I dropped him off and zipped to the Alpha. I would later eat my dinner around 8pm.
Here are my observations. I applaud the organizational and efficiency efforts of the Methodists. We were in and out in easily less than 3 minutes. Their preparation was stellar. I thought it might be one of those scenarios where we had to wait in a long buffet line, where elderly people made mindless chit chat about the weather and if there were any low sodium selections. Not the case.
All the food tasted great, but had an overwhelming mushlike consistency. Of course, I would expect that mashed potatoes have a creamy origin, but the chicken breast also had this overcooked, melt-in-your-mouth vibe. The green beans - same thing. They kind of disintegrated and became one with the soaked oil/margarine conglomerate. The coleslaw, aka mushslaw, was presented in an ill-sized container. The miniaturized roll was quite good. My chocolate cake came with a tiny container of some kind of pomegranate puree adornment. More likely it was raspberry jello topping.
So here's my final review of church dinner...
The food was just way too mushy. There's probably a direct correlation between mushiness and lack of teeth.
The energy level in the place was slightly below mediocre.
The service and cooperation were outstanding. I'll refer to this as the overall quality of the production.
Fortunately, nobody tried to convert me. This event was not prepared for a good old fashioned food fight. Could you imagine the headline in the Wheeling today?
FOOD FIGHT
At 5:03pm Friday, Wheeling police responded to a food fight at 125 Kruger Street. Local police used pepper spray to contain an irate Eric Saferstein. Apparently, his combative nature was the direct result of an earlier argument. A United Methodist Church representative claimed he was hurling accusations at the dinner crowd. "A pox on your house of worship. A pox on your godless gruel! It's all mushified damnit! Jesus Christ died for this chicken dinner!"
The Wheeling Police Chief later commented, "We had to take the biatch down, G20 style."
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Acorn
The recent video of the phony pimp and hooker who enter an Acorn office and received tacit approval to defraud the IRS has left me speechless. Since I cannot use the spoken word, I'll try to put my thoughts on computer screen. This has to be one of the most ludicrous things I've ever seen. A thin, pale honky kid comes into the office dressed as an actual pimp. He's got a sequined robe and a cane for gods sake. And he looks like he's in his mid 20's. But wait, he's actually some kind of Michael Moore Republican filmmaker activist. The "hooker" has her ass hanging out in these spandex shorts. And I love the plastic mammoth loop earrings. They neglect to show her face but I'm sure she had a sufficient coating of rouge.
The pimp proudly explains to the Acorn rep (a black woman in her 40's) that he has a dozen Central American girls on his payroll. I like the illegal immigrant insinuation - nice touch. Then he proudly extols, "Some of them are underage!" Then, like most pimps, he wants to acquire a better understanding of his tax obligations to the IRS. The seemingly amused woman informs him that he "probably shouldn't make an issue of it and it might be wise to avoid reporting all this extra income on his tax returns."
ENTER FOX NEWS...
Here is pure, verifiable truth that Acorn is a corrupt organization and they are actively engaged in trying to rip off the US government. Apparently, this is their "gotcha" moment and they're going to use it to dismantle Acorn. Acorn supports underage prostitution rings! Those bastards! Our hard earned tax dollars are being used to support teen prostitution. Beck, Hannity and O'Reilly are going to have a field day with this one! Limbaugh will probably have to go back on oxycontin.
The incident is eerily reminiscent of the deranged artist who submerged a cross in a jar of urine. I think it happened in the early 90's. Basically, you take one moron and use him/her as a poster child to damn an entire organization or political movement. In one fell swoop, this idiot managed to accidentally galvanize all of the churchies in America. Basically, this guy metaphorically urinated on every flag waving, social conservative Republican. After all, the National Endowment for the Arts was supported with taxpayer dollars, so in effect, the government was funding and advocating this disgusting, immoral artwork. I think it was the infamous Senator Jesse Helms who led the charge. The same man who claimed that it's impossible for a female rape victim to get pregnant because "the juices just aren't flowing."
What's both sad and amusing is that the whole Acorn incident was a set-up. The Acorn worker recognizes the degree of absurdity and seems to be playing along. The notion that Fox News would use this fugazi nonsense is borderline insane. The producers at Fox obviously believe this story has a degree of credibility. But it's more likely they think the majority of their viewers will find the story newsworthy. This speaks volumes about how they perceive their viewership and their collective abilities to dissect and ingest the daily news. At least the outcry over the urine crucifix was grounded in reality.
The pimp proudly explains to the Acorn rep (a black woman in her 40's) that he has a dozen Central American girls on his payroll. I like the illegal immigrant insinuation - nice touch. Then he proudly extols, "Some of them are underage!" Then, like most pimps, he wants to acquire a better understanding of his tax obligations to the IRS. The seemingly amused woman informs him that he "probably shouldn't make an issue of it and it might be wise to avoid reporting all this extra income on his tax returns."
ENTER FOX NEWS...
Here is pure, verifiable truth that Acorn is a corrupt organization and they are actively engaged in trying to rip off the US government. Apparently, this is their "gotcha" moment and they're going to use it to dismantle Acorn. Acorn supports underage prostitution rings! Those bastards! Our hard earned tax dollars are being used to support teen prostitution. Beck, Hannity and O'Reilly are going to have a field day with this one! Limbaugh will probably have to go back on oxycontin.
The incident is eerily reminiscent of the deranged artist who submerged a cross in a jar of urine. I think it happened in the early 90's. Basically, you take one moron and use him/her as a poster child to damn an entire organization or political movement. In one fell swoop, this idiot managed to accidentally galvanize all of the churchies in America. Basically, this guy metaphorically urinated on every flag waving, social conservative Republican. After all, the National Endowment for the Arts was supported with taxpayer dollars, so in effect, the government was funding and advocating this disgusting, immoral artwork. I think it was the infamous Senator Jesse Helms who led the charge. The same man who claimed that it's impossible for a female rape victim to get pregnant because "the juices just aren't flowing."
What's both sad and amusing is that the whole Acorn incident was a set-up. The Acorn worker recognizes the degree of absurdity and seems to be playing along. The notion that Fox News would use this fugazi nonsense is borderline insane. The producers at Fox obviously believe this story has a degree of credibility. But it's more likely they think the majority of their viewers will find the story newsworthy. This speaks volumes about how they perceive their viewership and their collective abilities to dissect and ingest the daily news. At least the outcry over the urine crucifix was grounded in reality.
Sunday, September 06, 2009
Cathy Mitchell
Who is Cathy Mitchell and why do I find her offensive? These are two questions which have plagued my mind for the past month or so. For those who have no idea what I'm talking about, Cathy Mitchell is a grandmotherly woman who hosts a 30 minute infomercial for a product called "The Express Redi Set Go" indoor grill. It's basically a cheaper version of the George Foreman Grill with a timer and an emphasis on baking.
Saf, what could possibly be wrong with that? Some of us enjoy grilling and baking. Alright, since you asked... here we go.
Cathy and her partner (an overly cooperative, handsome older gentleman) take you on quite an adventure. They seem to be having the time of their lives in this half hour infomercial. The writers seemed to have taken a page from "Saved by the Bell" - the atrocious early 90's sitcom. Everything they do is just simply outlandlish. This cooking unit... it just brings families together. Everyone can get involved. It's just so easy. And of course the kids will love it. Most important, it's just too much fun. F-U-N fun!
Let me get a little specific. First, Cathy Mitchell's hairdo is some kind of teased up birds nest without the curling irons. Although she does not wear a house dress, her bodily shape literally cries out and begs to be adorned with one. I imagine it would read "Grandma's my name and spoiling's my game." What really angers me is the way she conducts herself. She has this crazy knack for inventing cutesy names for normally mundane food items.
For example, she'll put a frozen tater tot in one of the food wells and surround it with egg yolk and call the finished product an "Eggster." What the fuck is an eggster? I've never heard of this terminology. I can already envision a legion of preschoolers asking mommy to fix them eggsters. The thought of this makes me unhappy, but wait... there's more. How about a "Cini Mini?" A Cini Mini (And trust me, I'm filled with rage as I type the word Cini Mini) is simply a Cinnamon Biscuit but vastly more entertaining. You see it's just a third of a normal sized biscuit; thus, it has attained the status of mini. And wait, there's something even better on the jackass menu - a COOKIEZZA. Yep, it's pronounced Koo kee tsa. This is a combination of a cookie and a pizza. But in reality, it's just a large cookie. Never having been a big fan of dessert, I desperately want to take this disc shaped freshly baked cookie and smash her in the face with it. Nope, not a Laurel and Hardy pie in the face routine. This cookiezza would pack more of a punch due to the mitigating factor of no filling. As the blood pours from her broken nose, I would calmly celebrate.
Okay, there's more. She claims this grilling contraption is perfect for appetizers so she makes 5 crab stuffed mushrooms. Wow, there's a total of 5 miniature grilling compartments for the big party. Who the fuck is coming to this soiree? A delegation of Sudanese? Cathy Mitchell is so excited when she plates the crab stuffed mushrooms which incidentally look pretty disgusting. I have no doubt that Cathy (the fucking info-grandma) is a major proponent of imitation crab meat. I can see her whipping out her mammoth coupon collection kit searching for that 10 cents off discount on artificially flavor infused pollock.
It gets better. As if cookiezza wasn't enough, she gets all giddy when it's time for other desserts. She pours a dollop of chocolate batter mixture into one of the food wells. Then, she retrieves one of these "mystery" chocolates from a box of Russell Stovers. This is where the fun really starts. She has no idea what filling lies inside the mystery chocolate. I can't wait to bite into it and find that I was the recipient of the crappy strawberry marshmallow goo. Then she puts coconut macaroons in the other one. As my blood pressure begins to elevate and I start shaking violently, Cathy hears the Ding noise from another Redi Set Go Grill unit.
"Ohhhh, my pineapple upside down cake is finished. Oooooh." Other than the Darfurian immigrants, this cake could possibly feed a malnourished Haitian toddler as well.
There's more. Cathy likes to use the words "smoky links" and "little doggies" when referencing sausage. Surely this makes us all everyone cringe. I can't be alone on this one. She surrounds each of these "hound dogs" with pancake batter. When they're finished she offers a vat of syrup. Mmmmm - it's the preferred dipping sauce for morbidly obese Southern Baptists!
Just 2 easy payments of $19.99, plus s/h of $16.00. Thus bringing the grand total to $56 and change. Hey there, Cathy Mitchell, you yeast infected elderly fuck. I've got an innovative idea for you and your Express Redi Set Go . How about a skillet with a lid on it?
Saf, what could possibly be wrong with that? Some of us enjoy grilling and baking. Alright, since you asked... here we go.
Cathy and her partner (an overly cooperative, handsome older gentleman) take you on quite an adventure. They seem to be having the time of their lives in this half hour infomercial. The writers seemed to have taken a page from "Saved by the Bell" - the atrocious early 90's sitcom. Everything they do is just simply outlandlish. This cooking unit... it just brings families together. Everyone can get involved. It's just so easy. And of course the kids will love it. Most important, it's just too much fun. F-U-N fun!
Let me get a little specific. First, Cathy Mitchell's hairdo is some kind of teased up birds nest without the curling irons. Although she does not wear a house dress, her bodily shape literally cries out and begs to be adorned with one. I imagine it would read "Grandma's my name and spoiling's my game." What really angers me is the way she conducts herself. She has this crazy knack for inventing cutesy names for normally mundane food items.
For example, she'll put a frozen tater tot in one of the food wells and surround it with egg yolk and call the finished product an "Eggster." What the fuck is an eggster? I've never heard of this terminology. I can already envision a legion of preschoolers asking mommy to fix them eggsters. The thought of this makes me unhappy, but wait... there's more. How about a "Cini Mini?" A Cini Mini (And trust me, I'm filled with rage as I type the word Cini Mini) is simply a Cinnamon Biscuit but vastly more entertaining. You see it's just a third of a normal sized biscuit; thus, it has attained the status of mini. And wait, there's something even better on the jackass menu - a COOKIEZZA. Yep, it's pronounced Koo kee tsa. This is a combination of a cookie and a pizza. But in reality, it's just a large cookie. Never having been a big fan of dessert, I desperately want to take this disc shaped freshly baked cookie and smash her in the face with it. Nope, not a Laurel and Hardy pie in the face routine. This cookiezza would pack more of a punch due to the mitigating factor of no filling. As the blood pours from her broken nose, I would calmly celebrate.
Okay, there's more. She claims this grilling contraption is perfect for appetizers so she makes 5 crab stuffed mushrooms. Wow, there's a total of 5 miniature grilling compartments for the big party. Who the fuck is coming to this soiree? A delegation of Sudanese? Cathy Mitchell is so excited when she plates the crab stuffed mushrooms which incidentally look pretty disgusting. I have no doubt that Cathy (the fucking info-grandma) is a major proponent of imitation crab meat. I can see her whipping out her mammoth coupon collection kit searching for that 10 cents off discount on artificially flavor infused pollock.
It gets better. As if cookiezza wasn't enough, she gets all giddy when it's time for other desserts. She pours a dollop of chocolate batter mixture into one of the food wells. Then, she retrieves one of these "mystery" chocolates from a box of Russell Stovers. This is where the fun really starts. She has no idea what filling lies inside the mystery chocolate. I can't wait to bite into it and find that I was the recipient of the crappy strawberry marshmallow goo. Then she puts coconut macaroons in the other one. As my blood pressure begins to elevate and I start shaking violently, Cathy hears the Ding noise from another Redi Set Go Grill unit.
"Ohhhh, my pineapple upside down cake is finished. Oooooh." Other than the Darfurian immigrants, this cake could possibly feed a malnourished Haitian toddler as well.
There's more. Cathy likes to use the words "smoky links" and "little doggies" when referencing sausage. Surely this makes us all everyone cringe. I can't be alone on this one. She surrounds each of these "hound dogs" with pancake batter. When they're finished she offers a vat of syrup. Mmmmm - it's the preferred dipping sauce for morbidly obese Southern Baptists!
Just 2 easy payments of $19.99, plus s/h of $16.00. Thus bringing the grand total to $56 and change. Hey there, Cathy Mitchell, you yeast infected elderly fuck. I've got an innovative idea for you and your Express Redi Set Go . How about a skillet with a lid on it?
Monday, August 17, 2009
I Do Not Feel Good
I DO NOT FEEL GOOD...
I made this sign last night for Crue Fest at Starlake. It would turn out to be mildly prophetic. I like it due to the combination of grammatical ineptitude and general relevance (Dr. Feelgood tribute tour, ugghhh).
Anyway, my car has been out of commission (alternator), so Jepson and Kyla picked me up. I was a tad exhausted from a long day/night before and a 5 hour car ride earlier in the morning. However, the acquisition of 6 packs of Lone Star beef jerky at the Claysville Exxon buoyed my spirits. The Indian owner guy posed the usual question as I dumped $30+ worth of beef jerky on the counter, "Having a party, ehhh?" It's all about the dry texture and consistent infusion of salt/smoke. If I do atheist Christmas gift assortments (kind of like a Safshire Farms gift box), I would think Lone Star would be a definite as well as those hot mini-pepperoncinis.
Anyway, we cruise up to the show listening to Jepson's favorite band. They're an over-the-top metal throwback band with sexually graphic lyrics. For the life of me, I can't remember the name - I think it's Phantom Angel or something. Personally, I didn't mind hearing the cd one time, but I think once is sufficient. I am not a fan, but I will salute their use of the word "clitty." They must have stolen that off an episode of 7 Lives Exposed. I'd be willing to bet on it.
We get to the lot and they park us way off in Section N - basically this is like the Gobi Desert section of Mongolia. You're way off in the back. Fortunately, his extended crew was a few rows over. They had a large, canopy which seemed to have a hint of Downs Syndrome. I know that sounds harsh but the pop-up tent seemed to have this lethargic, drooping personality. It really didn't do much to provide shelter as the heat and sun were pretty brutal. We had a good time for a couple hours highlighted by some injectable pineapple/vodka jello shots.
As Theory of a Mailman hit the stage, people began to scatter and head in. I suggested we drive up and park at the top of the steps. We cruised up and a parking dude escorted us to a side area. Great spot. This helped with some of the later stages of people watching. We were sequestered for most of the tailgate so probably missed out on some high end freak shit. Remember, even though Motley Crue is kind of stale these days, they still inspire a generation.
Anyway, those guys went in for Godsmack. I ran into Gig and Nichole and basically hung with them by the limos. We zipped in for Motley Crue. The show was surprisingly weak. The vast majority of material was from the Dr. Feelgood cd - probably one of their weakest efforts. And they just sounded bad. I honestly don't remember much of the concert itself. I was far more interested in the entertaining company.
Anyway, we were walking back to the limo. At the top of the steps I somehow snagged the lip of my sandal on one of the steps. It left this bizarre gash underneath the big toe on my right foot. STINGING/THROBBING PAIN. The girls started laughing because I violently tripped but regained my balance before falling. That laughter quickly subsided as my entire foot was covered in blood. The underneath of my foot is gushing blood. I lean up against the limo and Gig snags a medical kit and a bottle of water. I start to slump and realize that I've got to sit down. I then blacked out in a light haze for about 4 minutes. I probably lost (I'm guessing) about 1.7 pints in a few minutes. Anyway, Gig gauzed it up and I regained a little composure. We walked over to Jepsonian and I got my duffle bag. I ended up going back to Washington with Gig and Nikki (some prefer to call it WashPa).
We got back to the house and Gig cleaned up my foot with the skill of a talented nursing assistant. Just kidding, I mean registered nurse. She did her absolute best to help me forget about my fucked up foot. Thanks Gig!
I tried putting weight on it today and it started bleeding again. So I crashed for a bit and just removed the gauze and redid it. My wrap job looks really ghetto but I think it will suffice. The gash is still pretty deep and open. I probably should get stitches but I think if I can keep it from bleeding, it should be alright. I still might go to Doctors Urgent Care tomorrow. It's just that my entire toe is bruised and mangled. So the fall out is no golf and obviously no running. Pearl Jam in Chicago is a pipe dream at this point. Just hobbled walking and I'm pretty sure I'll be able to use the gas pedal.
The other signs from the night...
Gunt Sweet Gunt (aka Home Sweet Home)
Gunts, Gunts, Gunts (spinoff of Girls, Girls, Girls) - my personal favorite
Vick is a Dick (not really relevant)
and
Pamela Anderson Loves Borat
A long night, A painful night, A wonderful night
Motley Crue really needs to hang it up. They're kind of turning into Spinal Tap. Well... Spinal Tap is a poor analogy. Spinal Tap knew what the hell was going on. Motley Crue, not so much.
I made this sign last night for Crue Fest at Starlake. It would turn out to be mildly prophetic. I like it due to the combination of grammatical ineptitude and general relevance (Dr. Feelgood tribute tour, ugghhh).
Anyway, my car has been out of commission (alternator), so Jepson and Kyla picked me up. I was a tad exhausted from a long day/night before and a 5 hour car ride earlier in the morning. However, the acquisition of 6 packs of Lone Star beef jerky at the Claysville Exxon buoyed my spirits. The Indian owner guy posed the usual question as I dumped $30+ worth of beef jerky on the counter, "Having a party, ehhh?" It's all about the dry texture and consistent infusion of salt/smoke. If I do atheist Christmas gift assortments (kind of like a Safshire Farms gift box), I would think Lone Star would be a definite as well as those hot mini-pepperoncinis.
Anyway, we cruise up to the show listening to Jepson's favorite band. They're an over-the-top metal throwback band with sexually graphic lyrics. For the life of me, I can't remember the name - I think it's Phantom Angel or something. Personally, I didn't mind hearing the cd one time, but I think once is sufficient. I am not a fan, but I will salute their use of the word "clitty." They must have stolen that off an episode of 7 Lives Exposed. I'd be willing to bet on it.
We get to the lot and they park us way off in Section N - basically this is like the Gobi Desert section of Mongolia. You're way off in the back. Fortunately, his extended crew was a few rows over. They had a large, canopy which seemed to have a hint of Downs Syndrome. I know that sounds harsh but the pop-up tent seemed to have this lethargic, drooping personality. It really didn't do much to provide shelter as the heat and sun were pretty brutal. We had a good time for a couple hours highlighted by some injectable pineapple/vodka jello shots.
As Theory of a Mailman hit the stage, people began to scatter and head in. I suggested we drive up and park at the top of the steps. We cruised up and a parking dude escorted us to a side area. Great spot. This helped with some of the later stages of people watching. We were sequestered for most of the tailgate so probably missed out on some high end freak shit. Remember, even though Motley Crue is kind of stale these days, they still inspire a generation.
Anyway, those guys went in for Godsmack. I ran into Gig and Nichole and basically hung with them by the limos. We zipped in for Motley Crue. The show was surprisingly weak. The vast majority of material was from the Dr. Feelgood cd - probably one of their weakest efforts. And they just sounded bad. I honestly don't remember much of the concert itself. I was far more interested in the entertaining company.
Anyway, we were walking back to the limo. At the top of the steps I somehow snagged the lip of my sandal on one of the steps. It left this bizarre gash underneath the big toe on my right foot. STINGING/THROBBING PAIN. The girls started laughing because I violently tripped but regained my balance before falling. That laughter quickly subsided as my entire foot was covered in blood. The underneath of my foot is gushing blood. I lean up against the limo and Gig snags a medical kit and a bottle of water. I start to slump and realize that I've got to sit down. I then blacked out in a light haze for about 4 minutes. I probably lost (I'm guessing) about 1.7 pints in a few minutes. Anyway, Gig gauzed it up and I regained a little composure. We walked over to Jepsonian and I got my duffle bag. I ended up going back to Washington with Gig and Nikki (some prefer to call it WashPa).
We got back to the house and Gig cleaned up my foot with the skill of a talented nursing assistant. Just kidding, I mean registered nurse. She did her absolute best to help me forget about my fucked up foot. Thanks Gig!
I tried putting weight on it today and it started bleeding again. So I crashed for a bit and just removed the gauze and redid it. My wrap job looks really ghetto but I think it will suffice. The gash is still pretty deep and open. I probably should get stitches but I think if I can keep it from bleeding, it should be alright. I still might go to Doctors Urgent Care tomorrow. It's just that my entire toe is bruised and mangled. So the fall out is no golf and obviously no running. Pearl Jam in Chicago is a pipe dream at this point. Just hobbled walking and I'm pretty sure I'll be able to use the gas pedal.
The other signs from the night...
Gunt Sweet Gunt (aka Home Sweet Home)
Gunts, Gunts, Gunts (spinoff of Girls, Girls, Girls) - my personal favorite
Vick is a Dick (not really relevant)
and
Pamela Anderson Loves Borat
A long night, A painful night, A wonderful night
Motley Crue really needs to hang it up. They're kind of turning into Spinal Tap. Well... Spinal Tap is a poor analogy. Spinal Tap knew what the hell was going on. Motley Crue, not so much.
Saturday, August 01, 2009
birthday
Well, today is the big day - August 1. I turned 39. What a catastrophic achievement of biblical proportions! For the record, I have always been one to shun pre-planned celebrations. If you asked me, "Saf, what did you do on your birthday last year?" - I'd have absolutely no idea whatsoever. I tend to treat everyday the same in an attempt to ride a wave of absolute consistency. In many ways, it's odd. When everyone is having the time of the their lives on New Years or the infamous night before Thanksgiving, I generally tend to avoid the party and lay low. Churchies will call me a "wet blanket." Street thugs (surprisingly from Beech Bottom) might view me with mild contempt. "Whassup wit dat? C'mon Lil' Saffy. True dat!" Rednecks will inquire, "Saf, you ain't gonna do that shot of Beam?"
Suffice to say, I don't generally celebrate my birthday. This year is a little different though. I woke up and ran about 3 miles and then mowed my lawn. Good workout. Then, I jumped in the shower and decided to eat lunch at Wesbanco Arena. For those of you in the dark, allow me to guide you into the light. Do you see? Do you see the light? If you've been following the local news, you'd realize that this weekend they're having the annual Jehovah's Witness Convention at the arena. They're actually spreading it out over 3 weekends due to overwhelming demand and lack of accommodations. I decided that since I was going to see Slayer, I might as well try to strike some balance in my life. Hence, a Jehovah lunchable. I put on my only religious attire - a Pope Benedict XVI U.S. tour shirt along with khaki shorts. I figured this might help me blend in. This assumption proved false. First, I failed to realize that everyone would be wearing nicer church-going attire - suits and dresses. I got some strange looks from the Jehovites. It dawned on me that they were probably not amused with the shirt. In their eyes, I think a pope t-shirt could be viewed as somewhat offensive. My bad.
I arrived at lunchtime with my DeFelice Italian sub and grabbed a seat in the corner upper deck. Not much really going on. People milling about here and there. I had hoped to see a little of the presentation (possibly a reenactment of the fornification of Adam and Eve) but I timed it wrong. Anyway, I start eating my sub and reading the paper. A young man named Dave from Spencer, WV must have seen that I was a little out of place. He greeted me and asked me where I was from. I let him know that I'm just a local. He proudly distributed some Witness literature and went to get me a DVD. I ate half my sub, chips, water and bolted. Not the entertainment value I had hoped for. Then again, I wasn't trying to engage anyone.
A few observations. Having been intimately acquainted with all things Jehovah, I feel uniquely qualified to comment. Most people view the Jehovahs as a cult. As if their brand of religion is less cult-like. Every religion embodies this weird ritualistic behavior. It's as if acting incredibly bizarre is almost a rite of passage and mode of acceptance by the flock. The Jehovites do take it one step further. First, they actively discourage their members from getting a higher education. Second, they don't let you register to vote or participate in the political process. Third, there's the blood transfusion issue. I wonder if you're even allowed to donate blood. Probably not. I'm not even going to delve into the knocking. The voting and education issues seem overtly linked to maintaining control over the flock. But the blood transfusion and the parental refusal to accept medical care in extreme cases - c'mon, what the fuck is that about in the 21st century?
I will say one thing though. The Jehovahs are an incredibly inviting and racially inclusive group. I've been to a few functions and the one thing that immediately struck me was the friendly interaction between blacks and whites. Didn't see much in the way of Asians or Hispanics, but then again, this is Eastern Ohio.
I made one other important observation. The Jehovahs sometimes make fun of and mock the crazies. I'm talking the true wackjobs who can ONLY talk about their faith and the church. You can't talk about the stock market, the Steelers or even a sale on ground chuck. Everything is "The Lord speaketh" and "Let us pray." My point - just like every other religion or cult, there's a definable mainstream element which mocks the hardcore super religious freaks. The way I see it, the problem is, when your religion becomes too cultlike, how can you properly define where "normal" begins and what constitutes "freakshow?" I'm sure it's the same deal with Islamic Jihad and off-shoot Hindu sects.
One other thing, assuming only 144,000 people get into heaven or are saved or whatever ... Why in the name of the fucking pope would you actively solicit new members? Wouldn't your success diminish your chances of doing well in the afterlife. Anyway, just something to think about.
So onward to Slayer. Tailgating was predictably weak because most of the crowd went in early. I love metal as much as the next tatooed, pierced up weirdo but in all honesty, how much can one tolerate. They opened the gates at 2:30pm. Everyone seemed a little worn out by the time Slayer and Manson hit the stage. One girl referred to Slayer as "consummate professionals." I wholeheartedly agree. They opened w/ Darkness of Christ & Disciple - The God Hates Us All song. BAD ASS. And unlike the Jehovite gathering, I got a few compliments regarding the pope t-shirt. Just trying to take things in a different direction. Long and intriguing night. I think I'll go running and sweat out some of the toxins.
Suffice to say, I don't generally celebrate my birthday. This year is a little different though. I woke up and ran about 3 miles and then mowed my lawn. Good workout. Then, I jumped in the shower and decided to eat lunch at Wesbanco Arena. For those of you in the dark, allow me to guide you into the light. Do you see? Do you see the light? If you've been following the local news, you'd realize that this weekend they're having the annual Jehovah's Witness Convention at the arena. They're actually spreading it out over 3 weekends due to overwhelming demand and lack of accommodations. I decided that since I was going to see Slayer, I might as well try to strike some balance in my life. Hence, a Jehovah lunchable. I put on my only religious attire - a Pope Benedict XVI U.S. tour shirt along with khaki shorts. I figured this might help me blend in. This assumption proved false. First, I failed to realize that everyone would be wearing nicer church-going attire - suits and dresses. I got some strange looks from the Jehovites. It dawned on me that they were probably not amused with the shirt. In their eyes, I think a pope t-shirt could be viewed as somewhat offensive. My bad.
I arrived at lunchtime with my DeFelice Italian sub and grabbed a seat in the corner upper deck. Not much really going on. People milling about here and there. I had hoped to see a little of the presentation (possibly a reenactment of the fornification of Adam and Eve) but I timed it wrong. Anyway, I start eating my sub and reading the paper. A young man named Dave from Spencer, WV must have seen that I was a little out of place. He greeted me and asked me where I was from. I let him know that I'm just a local. He proudly distributed some Witness literature and went to get me a DVD. I ate half my sub, chips, water and bolted. Not the entertainment value I had hoped for. Then again, I wasn't trying to engage anyone.
A few observations. Having been intimately acquainted with all things Jehovah, I feel uniquely qualified to comment. Most people view the Jehovahs as a cult. As if their brand of religion is less cult-like. Every religion embodies this weird ritualistic behavior. It's as if acting incredibly bizarre is almost a rite of passage and mode of acceptance by the flock. The Jehovites do take it one step further. First, they actively discourage their members from getting a higher education. Second, they don't let you register to vote or participate in the political process. Third, there's the blood transfusion issue. I wonder if you're even allowed to donate blood. Probably not. I'm not even going to delve into the knocking. The voting and education issues seem overtly linked to maintaining control over the flock. But the blood transfusion and the parental refusal to accept medical care in extreme cases - c'mon, what the fuck is that about in the 21st century?
I will say one thing though. The Jehovahs are an incredibly inviting and racially inclusive group. I've been to a few functions and the one thing that immediately struck me was the friendly interaction between blacks and whites. Didn't see much in the way of Asians or Hispanics, but then again, this is Eastern Ohio.
I made one other important observation. The Jehovahs sometimes make fun of and mock the crazies. I'm talking the true wackjobs who can ONLY talk about their faith and the church. You can't talk about the stock market, the Steelers or even a sale on ground chuck. Everything is "The Lord speaketh" and "Let us pray." My point - just like every other religion or cult, there's a definable mainstream element which mocks the hardcore super religious freaks. The way I see it, the problem is, when your religion becomes too cultlike, how can you properly define where "normal" begins and what constitutes "freakshow?" I'm sure it's the same deal with Islamic Jihad and off-shoot Hindu sects.
One other thing, assuming only 144,000 people get into heaven or are saved or whatever ... Why in the name of the fucking pope would you actively solicit new members? Wouldn't your success diminish your chances of doing well in the afterlife. Anyway, just something to think about.
So onward to Slayer. Tailgating was predictably weak because most of the crowd went in early. I love metal as much as the next tatooed, pierced up weirdo but in all honesty, how much can one tolerate. They opened the gates at 2:30pm. Everyone seemed a little worn out by the time Slayer and Manson hit the stage. One girl referred to Slayer as "consummate professionals." I wholeheartedly agree. They opened w/ Darkness of Christ & Disciple - The God Hates Us All song. BAD ASS. And unlike the Jehovite gathering, I got a few compliments regarding the pope t-shirt. Just trying to take things in a different direction. Long and intriguing night. I think I'll go running and sweat out some of the toxins.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Jambo
I often speak of my contempt for the biggest "party" on the planet, Jamboree in the Hills. I've always had little regard for the quality of pop country music and find the genre largely unsatisfying. I also tend to loathe many of the things that accompany country music - a tacitly approved and encouraged racist undercurrent, the cries of a return to pre-Civil War days (endless displays of the Confederate flag), the whole Ford vs. Chevy debate, the embrace of mid-end whiskey (Beam and Jack), chewing tobacco and the act of spitting everywhere, the abundance of low-end red meat (lots of burgers and dogs) and the myriad of dancing-shaking overweight shirtless men.
I also don't care for the hostile "squirt bottle man syndrome" - guys that have been dissed all their lives by pretty women and get their yearly vengeance by squirting them in the chest and other targeted areas all in the name of having a "good time." Maybe it's me. Maybe I'm too old for all this fun and Jambo revelry.
However, I do have a unique perspective. I was there for 3 out of the 4 days with the limo gig. This provides me with a sobering, behind the scenes perspective. You see many of the arrests and encounter more of the redneck fallout. Kind of like a Girls Gone Wild video except it's more "When Rednecks Collectively Piss and Vomit."
Every year, WTOV9 says the same thing - "Well, it's another year in the books and Jamboree went off without a hitch. They put on a flawless production as usual and country music lovers came from far and wide. A great time was had by all." Well, it's my contention that this statement is not only erroneous, but it's a flagrant lie. Here's an estimate of the true aftermath of Jambo...
25 DUI's
50 misdemeanor and felony assualts
50 underage drinking citations
a few rapes (unreported)
5 attempted rapes
100 drunken and disorderly conduct violations
tons of alcohol related injuries
Alright, you get the drift. Peoples lives can be destroyed or face a serious setback, mostly self-inflicted wounds. Maybe, just maybe, things didn't go so smoothly after all. I guess my main problem with Jambo is the way the locals unite around the whole thing. People view it as some kind of drunken celebratory vacation. Talk about some low-end aspirations for yearly entertainment. Can't you come up with something better to do once a year? I realize a trip abroad is probably out of the question, but is Jambo really such a quality adventure? I honestly think it is not.
On a brighter note, it didn't smell that bad on Sunday this year. As Jambo nears its close, the acrid stench of incest permeates the air. This scent is comprised of sweat, beer, piss, shit, mud, puke and skoal with just the slightest hint of tampon. Sounds like a great way to take some well-deserved time off. Oh yeah... and the music is atrocious. I'm not even factoring in the country music reprise which takes place every night in the campgrounds.
I often think that the Jamboree venue is under-utilized. Maybe they could have a rock band there every once in a while. On second thought, let's just stick with Jambo once a year. Sometimes it's better to just stick with the same old routine. Maybe they should publish a Jambo cookbook - stuff like deviled eggs, macaroni salad, hot dogs, cotton candy, scalloped potatoes. Oh yeah... and cheap beer, lots of cheap beer.
I also don't care for the hostile "squirt bottle man syndrome" - guys that have been dissed all their lives by pretty women and get their yearly vengeance by squirting them in the chest and other targeted areas all in the name of having a "good time." Maybe it's me. Maybe I'm too old for all this fun and Jambo revelry.
However, I do have a unique perspective. I was there for 3 out of the 4 days with the limo gig. This provides me with a sobering, behind the scenes perspective. You see many of the arrests and encounter more of the redneck fallout. Kind of like a Girls Gone Wild video except it's more "When Rednecks Collectively Piss and Vomit."
Every year, WTOV9 says the same thing - "Well, it's another year in the books and Jamboree went off without a hitch. They put on a flawless production as usual and country music lovers came from far and wide. A great time was had by all." Well, it's my contention that this statement is not only erroneous, but it's a flagrant lie. Here's an estimate of the true aftermath of Jambo...
25 DUI's
50 misdemeanor and felony assualts
50 underage drinking citations
a few rapes (unreported)
5 attempted rapes
100 drunken and disorderly conduct violations
tons of alcohol related injuries
Alright, you get the drift. Peoples lives can be destroyed or face a serious setback, mostly self-inflicted wounds. Maybe, just maybe, things didn't go so smoothly after all. I guess my main problem with Jambo is the way the locals unite around the whole thing. People view it as some kind of drunken celebratory vacation. Talk about some low-end aspirations for yearly entertainment. Can't you come up with something better to do once a year? I realize a trip abroad is probably out of the question, but is Jambo really such a quality adventure? I honestly think it is not.
On a brighter note, it didn't smell that bad on Sunday this year. As Jambo nears its close, the acrid stench of incest permeates the air. This scent is comprised of sweat, beer, piss, shit, mud, puke and skoal with just the slightest hint of tampon. Sounds like a great way to take some well-deserved time off. Oh yeah... and the music is atrocious. I'm not even factoring in the country music reprise which takes place every night in the campgrounds.
I often think that the Jamboree venue is under-utilized. Maybe they could have a rock band there every once in a while. On second thought, let's just stick with Jambo once a year. Sometimes it's better to just stick with the same old routine. Maybe they should publish a Jambo cookbook - stuff like deviled eggs, macaroni salad, hot dogs, cotton candy, scalloped potatoes. Oh yeah... and cheap beer, lots of cheap beer.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Tiki Bar and Grill
My harem and I ate at the Tiki Bar and Grill today in glorious downtown Wheeling. This place opened about 6 months ago to a wide variety of reviews; some favorable others scathing. I purposely avoided it until today. I got the email for Lunchtimez and was all on board.
For those of you unfamiliar with Tiki, it's basically a low-end attempt to capture the festive nature of Myrtle Beach and regurgitate it in the center of downtown Wheeling. This building used to be a shoe store. Then it was "Domino's Express Pizazz Pizza" - whatever the fuck that all means. Then, as the dust settled, it would morph into an unclean, disgusting Mexican Restaurant called Nogales. History would dictate a brand new restaurant in a year or so. And voila, Tiki Bar and Grill emerged.
I'd never been in the place. I walk in and it pretty much resembles a Jimmy Buffett parking lot. Lots of "fun" stuff to look at. Plenty of dollar store decorative items - lots of plastic statues and lays. It's as though the party just never stops (keep in mind, this is centrist Wheeltown). I guess I've never been a big fan of the whole Margaritaville movement, lots of pureed strawberries and tropical fun.
Our waiter was kind of like a Wheeling Sinatra. Very cordial and debonair, he is probably the most hospitable man in the 26003 zip code. He could turn the most mundane topic (our drink orders - 4 waters and 3 diet cokes) into a veritable plethora of side-splitting punchlines. Let's just say he was at the peak of his game.
The menu attempts to capture this "beach vibe" but it resembles more of a "Perkins meets Eat'n'Park." Basically, there's a bunch of hamburgers, sandwiches and salads - then they make it fun by throwing in a dose of salsa or pico di guyo (sp., I know).
I had the special - a turkey melt w/ fries and coleslaw. It may have been the special, but it was sadly lackluster albeit edible. I would think they'd make the daily special something a little more festive. Just a side note - the coleslaw was sub-par and it came in one of those tiny salad dressing containers. Fortunately, since the coleslaw was in the spectrum of "that which sucks," I considered it a non-issue. Regardless, I'd never complain about something so trivial. I just thought the weak portion was peculiar.
All in all, I'd have to give Tiki a lamentable thumbs down. I'd give the place another 6-8 months depending on how much money they opt to throw down the drain. I have a hunch that Lunchtimez was a harbinger of more things to come this evening. You see, I'm heading up to scalp the Jimmy Buffett show at Starlake. In and out - I love it on a Tuesday. All the drunk frat boys will be getting rid of tickets for $5-$10 a piece. "Yeah, but you don't understand, I paid $137 for this ticket." "Uh yeah, I"m painfully aware of that - how about 5 bucks? Just don't eat it."
I'll snag about a dozen or so and resell them at cost. Tonight's a great night to check out the EMT vehicle; tons of drunks will bite the dust, or at Starlake, they bite the rocky concrete surface, strewn with bits of charred glass and puddles of rhombus-shaped vomit . Welcome Parrotheads - an unusual sect of the populous that summons all their collective strength for one evening of summertime revelry!
Wip out that coconut bra! You are so zany!
Drink cheap Tequila, you know the shitty Pepe Lopez brand with the cool plastic Mexican sombrero on the bottle. Then, later that night, afix the sombrero to the head of your penis! What a blast.
Sing the good time refrain of Cheeseburger in Paradise. Then, on the way home, sing Mony Mony (get laid get fucked).
Reminisce about all the drunken fun times you've had at previous Buffett shows. Yeah, I got so wasted when I saw him in 96. Jimmy's da man.
44 year old divorced mother of 3, cinch in that pussy pillow! Tonight you will shine!
How about that one time? You know, when a dozen people cruised up to Buffett and continually filled a bucket with urine, and then from time to time, would empty it into one of those kiddie wading pools. Then, they'd watch the people swimming and splashing about in their urine. It's a felony, but it's so much fun. Only at a Jimmy Buffett show.
For those of you unfamiliar with Tiki, it's basically a low-end attempt to capture the festive nature of Myrtle Beach and regurgitate it in the center of downtown Wheeling. This building used to be a shoe store. Then it was "Domino's Express Pizazz Pizza" - whatever the fuck that all means. Then, as the dust settled, it would morph into an unclean, disgusting Mexican Restaurant called Nogales. History would dictate a brand new restaurant in a year or so. And voila, Tiki Bar and Grill emerged.
I'd never been in the place. I walk in and it pretty much resembles a Jimmy Buffett parking lot. Lots of "fun" stuff to look at. Plenty of dollar store decorative items - lots of plastic statues and lays. It's as though the party just never stops (keep in mind, this is centrist Wheeltown). I guess I've never been a big fan of the whole Margaritaville movement, lots of pureed strawberries and tropical fun.
Our waiter was kind of like a Wheeling Sinatra. Very cordial and debonair, he is probably the most hospitable man in the 26003 zip code. He could turn the most mundane topic (our drink orders - 4 waters and 3 diet cokes) into a veritable plethora of side-splitting punchlines. Let's just say he was at the peak of his game.
The menu attempts to capture this "beach vibe" but it resembles more of a "Perkins meets Eat'n'Park." Basically, there's a bunch of hamburgers, sandwiches and salads - then they make it fun by throwing in a dose of salsa or pico di guyo (sp., I know).
I had the special - a turkey melt w/ fries and coleslaw. It may have been the special, but it was sadly lackluster albeit edible. I would think they'd make the daily special something a little more festive. Just a side note - the coleslaw was sub-par and it came in one of those tiny salad dressing containers. Fortunately, since the coleslaw was in the spectrum of "that which sucks," I considered it a non-issue. Regardless, I'd never complain about something so trivial. I just thought the weak portion was peculiar.
All in all, I'd have to give Tiki a lamentable thumbs down. I'd give the place another 6-8 months depending on how much money they opt to throw down the drain. I have a hunch that Lunchtimez was a harbinger of more things to come this evening. You see, I'm heading up to scalp the Jimmy Buffett show at Starlake. In and out - I love it on a Tuesday. All the drunk frat boys will be getting rid of tickets for $5-$10 a piece. "Yeah, but you don't understand, I paid $137 for this ticket." "Uh yeah, I"m painfully aware of that - how about 5 bucks? Just don't eat it."
I'll snag about a dozen or so and resell them at cost. Tonight's a great night to check out the EMT vehicle; tons of drunks will bite the dust, or at Starlake, they bite the rocky concrete surface, strewn with bits of charred glass and puddles of rhombus-shaped vomit . Welcome Parrotheads - an unusual sect of the populous that summons all their collective strength for one evening of summertime revelry!
Wip out that coconut bra! You are so zany!
Drink cheap Tequila, you know the shitty Pepe Lopez brand with the cool plastic Mexican sombrero on the bottle. Then, later that night, afix the sombrero to the head of your penis! What a blast.
Sing the good time refrain of Cheeseburger in Paradise. Then, on the way home, sing Mony Mony (get laid get fucked).
Reminisce about all the drunken fun times you've had at previous Buffett shows. Yeah, I got so wasted when I saw him in 96. Jimmy's da man.
44 year old divorced mother of 3, cinch in that pussy pillow! Tonight you will shine!
How about that one time? You know, when a dozen people cruised up to Buffett and continually filled a bucket with urine, and then from time to time, would empty it into one of those kiddie wading pools. Then, they'd watch the people swimming and splashing about in their urine. It's a felony, but it's so much fun. Only at a Jimmy Buffett show.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Iran
For over a year I've been predicting the use of texting to help facilitate looting in the United States. Well, I have a hunch the situation in Iran will take precedence. Of course, we've all seen the political unrest in Iran. Although protests have been conducted in over 50 cities, I imagine the main thrust of the unrest is in Tehran. Especially since the Neda woman got snipered and the footage was captured via the social network sites.
I'm thinking the use of twitter, despite the communication clampdown by the theocratic thugs, will be used heavily during the variety of ensuing phases of this rebellion. I'm assuming there will be continued protests. I could be wrong. Tehran is an incredibly modern, spread out city. It actually resembles Phoenix, AZ. It would be exceedingly difficult to mobilize the revolutionary guard and various govt. militia representatives to combat infrequent, sudden looting. This is the shit twitter was made for. Coordinating mass chaos in an instant. They've mentioned repeatedly on CNN, using twitter, that the timing and location of future protests must be kept secret right up until crunchtime. Well, there you go.
It'll be interesting to see if a group of well-coordinated citizens could take out a pipeline or something of monetary value. In the long run, torching a bus/ambulance has little effect. Of course, when over a hundred thousand people defy the Supreme Leader and participate in street protests - this is definitely an important component. But I suspect the military apparatus and conventional police forces will wear them down over time. I'm definitely not in tune with the general vibe on the streets of Tehran. I get my info like everyone else - mostly CNN/MSNBC and occasionally the BBC. Fox is so far out of the mainstream, one can hardly fathom how they could be viewed as a credible source of information in the Middle East.
Seriously though, the political upheaval, specifically in the capital city of Tehran, seems ripe for sudden and highly focused looting via twittering and other instant messaging forums. I guess it's dependent on how effectively the govt. can crack down on the existing communication systems. Obviously, they can kick out virtually every foreign news correspondent, but you just can't effectively impose martial law when everyone (particularly the youth) have cell phones with video messaging capabilities. I think the images of the 20 yr. old Neda Girl will have vast, far reaching implications. It reminds me of the guy who stood before the tank in Tianamin Square. Whether or not there's a political transformation or change in Iran - I don't know. In fact, I think it's plausible to say that A-Jad may have even legitimately won the election - I don't know. I do know one thing though. The images of the Neda woman will not be fleeting. I think they'll stand the test of time. I'm curious to see how this all pans out.
Wouldn't it be a fascinating development if the mullahs temporarily ban the use of cell phones and twittering because they "claim it's subversive to Islam" and "treasonous behavior designed to overthrow the existing government." Talk about oppression... If they could pull off something like that on such a massive scale, well, let's just say... for the love of Allah.
I'm thinking the use of twitter, despite the communication clampdown by the theocratic thugs, will be used heavily during the variety of ensuing phases of this rebellion. I'm assuming there will be continued protests. I could be wrong. Tehran is an incredibly modern, spread out city. It actually resembles Phoenix, AZ. It would be exceedingly difficult to mobilize the revolutionary guard and various govt. militia representatives to combat infrequent, sudden looting. This is the shit twitter was made for. Coordinating mass chaos in an instant. They've mentioned repeatedly on CNN, using twitter, that the timing and location of future protests must be kept secret right up until crunchtime. Well, there you go.
It'll be interesting to see if a group of well-coordinated citizens could take out a pipeline or something of monetary value. In the long run, torching a bus/ambulance has little effect. Of course, when over a hundred thousand people defy the Supreme Leader and participate in street protests - this is definitely an important component. But I suspect the military apparatus and conventional police forces will wear them down over time. I'm definitely not in tune with the general vibe on the streets of Tehran. I get my info like everyone else - mostly CNN/MSNBC and occasionally the BBC. Fox is so far out of the mainstream, one can hardly fathom how they could be viewed as a credible source of information in the Middle East.
Seriously though, the political upheaval, specifically in the capital city of Tehran, seems ripe for sudden and highly focused looting via twittering and other instant messaging forums. I guess it's dependent on how effectively the govt. can crack down on the existing communication systems. Obviously, they can kick out virtually every foreign news correspondent, but you just can't effectively impose martial law when everyone (particularly the youth) have cell phones with video messaging capabilities. I think the images of the 20 yr. old Neda Girl will have vast, far reaching implications. It reminds me of the guy who stood before the tank in Tianamin Square. Whether or not there's a political transformation or change in Iran - I don't know. In fact, I think it's plausible to say that A-Jad may have even legitimately won the election - I don't know. I do know one thing though. The images of the Neda woman will not be fleeting. I think they'll stand the test of time. I'm curious to see how this all pans out.
Wouldn't it be a fascinating development if the mullahs temporarily ban the use of cell phones and twittering because they "claim it's subversive to Islam" and "treasonous behavior designed to overthrow the existing government." Talk about oppression... If they could pull off something like that on such a massive scale, well, let's just say... for the love of Allah.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Holla back, asshole
Late Friday night after the Pens won the cup, Jepsonian calls me, "Hey I've got free tickets to the No Doubt concert tomorrow night. Wanna go?" I forgot all about it until the next day. It was an unusual foursome - Me, Jepson, Cheyenne and Katrina. I half-heartedly agreed to drive, mainly for purposes of quality control. The crew seemed a bit disorganized, mostly cooler and beverage issues. When I saw the green apple Bacardi and the kahlua espresso beverages, I knew something was a tad askew. I usually prefer to keep things very streamlined - case of beer, bag of ice - done.
En route, we stopped at a "luau" in Follanbsee which was actually a birthday party for a 5 year old girl Sydney. Nice crew of pleasant individuals. This was probably a decent idea since I wasn't sure a No Doubt parking lot is my kind of tailgating scene. Later on, I would stand to be corrected.
On the way in, Katrina snagged a freebie VIP parking pass from a family in a minivan. They were impressed with my Red Wings sign. It says RED WINGS, but then you lift up the cardboard flap, and it reads SUCK COCK. Not exactly an awe-inspiring message but every once in a while you go with old school simplicity. I made other signs as well...
HOLLA BACK, ASSHOLE
SUSAN BOYLE IS HOT, GWEN STEFANI IS NOT
These twins died for your sins (pic of Chrisagis Brothers from the Saturday Faith section of the newspaper)
LET THERE BE NO DOUBT, WE ARE GAY
PALIN SUCKS (and so does her daughter)
and a few other miscellaneous Penguins signs. Most were well received.
I'd say about 18,000 people showed up for this thing. I was expecting a 20 something crowd of screaming girls. What I failed to anticipate was the massive throng of "emo-fagolicious vampires." The closest approximation would be a youthful version of the gay pride Mardi Gras pararde in New Orleans. They really came out in full force. Some of these guys have no shame. They really let it all hang out. It made for some highly impressive people watching at the top of the steps. My motto has always been "Let them come to us." And sure enough, they came. The weather really helped out - many of the morbidly obese women were accompanied by their homophonic leaning boyfriends/husbands. This would be a recurring theme. One woman would be adorned with the title - Green Manalushi with a two-pronged gunt. Others had multi-tiered gunts proudly displayed with a reckless temerity I've grown accustomed to seeing at similar concerts. Ahhh, the impudent effrontery.
The girls zipped in to see the opening band - Paramore. They had pavilion seats, we had lawn. I was more than content to just have a few beers and wait for No Doubt. We made our way in at crunch time and headed for the lower steps. I wasn't prepared for the onslaught of jubilation when the band took the stage. I will say one thing - Their fans truly love this band. The band itself sounded fine. I guess they pride themselves on being the zaniest, melodramatic band of all time. Gwen Stefani runs around the stage yelling "Uhhh Uhhh Ooooh Oooooh " about every 10 seconds. I don't think it matters what the song is. This appears to be her trademark. She'd also be doing pushups and a wide variety of calisthenics.
The other band members aroused deep within me an urge to spontaneously vomit. The drummer, with the spiked out hair wore a tutu. The trumpet playing fuck was almost as annoying. During Stefani's costume changes, the band would go off on these bizarre fun-filled unrelenting ska tangents. They were just soooo crazy. Honestly though, I've never seen anything quite like it. Remember in your 20's where you'd always know a few girls who had the gay boyfriends because they were non-abusive and liked to go clothes shopping. They'd live in a continual state of denial because their prior boyfriend was some 4-wheeling drunk abusive asshole. Ohhh, he's not gay. He's just sensitive and he likes to "dress up." I think he's hot. Then, over the course of a few months, the eyeliner and excessive hair gel commences. Then, the occasional high pitched gay tantrum. Finally, the other man emerges and threatens the current girlfriend, "I don't think so honey! Don't go there girlfriend." Well, I'd say this faction comprised a pretty convincing percentage of the attendees. Kind of like the Kurds in Iraq. Sequestered to the North, they operate independently and reject the usual societal norms. Well, not last night as it was their time to shine. This was their night.
As we exited, a 20 year old girl was lying in a fetal position on the asphalt. Her friends were trying to get her to move, but she wouldn't budge. As the EMT golf cart showed up, we both simultaneously remarked, "Somebody help her! Somebody do something!" She staggered to her feet and started screaming at her friends, "Why wouldn't someone help me?" Jepson and I flashed each other a look of credulity and we both remarked (again simultaneously) "That's what we were trying to do! We were trying to help!" It provided a nice dose of circular closure for the evening. Sometimes you really want to help people, but as much as you try, they just don't want your help.
En route, we stopped at a "luau" in Follanbsee which was actually a birthday party for a 5 year old girl Sydney. Nice crew of pleasant individuals. This was probably a decent idea since I wasn't sure a No Doubt parking lot is my kind of tailgating scene. Later on, I would stand to be corrected.
On the way in, Katrina snagged a freebie VIP parking pass from a family in a minivan. They were impressed with my Red Wings sign. It says RED WINGS, but then you lift up the cardboard flap, and it reads SUCK COCK. Not exactly an awe-inspiring message but every once in a while you go with old school simplicity. I made other signs as well...
HOLLA BACK, ASSHOLE
SUSAN BOYLE IS HOT, GWEN STEFANI IS NOT
These twins died for your sins (pic of Chrisagis Brothers from the Saturday Faith section of the newspaper)
LET THERE BE NO DOUBT, WE ARE GAY
PALIN SUCKS (and so does her daughter)
and a few other miscellaneous Penguins signs. Most were well received.
I'd say about 18,000 people showed up for this thing. I was expecting a 20 something crowd of screaming girls. What I failed to anticipate was the massive throng of "emo-fagolicious vampires." The closest approximation would be a youthful version of the gay pride Mardi Gras pararde in New Orleans. They really came out in full force. Some of these guys have no shame. They really let it all hang out. It made for some highly impressive people watching at the top of the steps. My motto has always been "Let them come to us." And sure enough, they came. The weather really helped out - many of the morbidly obese women were accompanied by their homophonic leaning boyfriends/husbands. This would be a recurring theme. One woman would be adorned with the title - Green Manalushi with a two-pronged gunt. Others had multi-tiered gunts proudly displayed with a reckless temerity I've grown accustomed to seeing at similar concerts. Ahhh, the impudent effrontery.
The girls zipped in to see the opening band - Paramore. They had pavilion seats, we had lawn. I was more than content to just have a few beers and wait for No Doubt. We made our way in at crunch time and headed for the lower steps. I wasn't prepared for the onslaught of jubilation when the band took the stage. I will say one thing - Their fans truly love this band. The band itself sounded fine. I guess they pride themselves on being the zaniest, melodramatic band of all time. Gwen Stefani runs around the stage yelling "Uhhh Uhhh Ooooh Oooooh " about every 10 seconds. I don't think it matters what the song is. This appears to be her trademark. She'd also be doing pushups and a wide variety of calisthenics.
The other band members aroused deep within me an urge to spontaneously vomit. The drummer, with the spiked out hair wore a tutu. The trumpet playing fuck was almost as annoying. During Stefani's costume changes, the band would go off on these bizarre fun-filled unrelenting ska tangents. They were just soooo crazy. Honestly though, I've never seen anything quite like it. Remember in your 20's where you'd always know a few girls who had the gay boyfriends because they were non-abusive and liked to go clothes shopping. They'd live in a continual state of denial because their prior boyfriend was some 4-wheeling drunk abusive asshole. Ohhh, he's not gay. He's just sensitive and he likes to "dress up." I think he's hot. Then, over the course of a few months, the eyeliner and excessive hair gel commences. Then, the occasional high pitched gay tantrum. Finally, the other man emerges and threatens the current girlfriend, "I don't think so honey! Don't go there girlfriend." Well, I'd say this faction comprised a pretty convincing percentage of the attendees. Kind of like the Kurds in Iraq. Sequestered to the North, they operate independently and reject the usual societal norms. Well, not last night as it was their time to shine. This was their night.
As we exited, a 20 year old girl was lying in a fetal position on the asphalt. Her friends were trying to get her to move, but she wouldn't budge. As the EMT golf cart showed up, we both simultaneously remarked, "Somebody help her! Somebody do something!" She staggered to her feet and started screaming at her friends, "Why wouldn't someone help me?" Jepson and I flashed each other a look of credulity and we both remarked (again simultaneously) "That's what we were trying to do! We were trying to help!" It provided a nice dose of circular closure for the evening. Sometimes you really want to help people, but as much as you try, they just don't want your help.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Go Pencils
So I'm watching a Sopranos rerun yesterday on A&E. Tony B. says to Carmella, "I make a mean Rusty Nail." I had heard of this drink a few times. Never having seen one, I wondered what's in it. So I google it, and lo and behold, the main component is Dewars! I actually spoke out loud, alone in my kitchen at 9:30am, "Hey, that's my drink! I drink that stuff!" I normally try not to talk to myself.
So a Rusty Nail is 3 parts Dewars, 1 part Drambuie - over ice. I figure, hey this might be good. I'll go buy a bottle of Drambuie. So I go to CVS and buy a bottle of this stuff for $30. That seems pretty expensive for a "Scottish liqueur crafted with aged malt whiskies, spiced honey and a recipe kept secret since 1745." I figured, if the Pens win tonight, I'm going to celebrate with a Rusty Nail.
So later last night, me and Chris H. are at Tony and Cleos and I ask Kara if she has ever had a Rusty Nail. She looks at me and gives this "ohhh, that drink is gross and disgusting - you want one of those?" I respond affirmatively. We try it. This has got to be the most disgusting beverage ever conceived. Drambuie tastes a lot like overly sweetened licorice infused Jagermeister with just a slight hint of ass. It totally overpowered the defenseless Dewars. It's kind of reminiscent of those white trash fuckheads who submerge sauerkraut with an enormous quantity of brown sugar. You know who you are.
Anyway, I've got this unopened bottle of Drambuie. I ditched the receipt when I left CVS, but I'm going to try and return it today. I'm pretty sure I will be successful. There's a CVS tag on the bottle and the seal isn't broken. I just don't wish to have any further contact with this Drambuie bullshit.
Anyway, it seems like the playoffs have been going on for about 6 weeks or so. Every single day, you read the endless cries on Facebook. Continue a Pens wave or "Let's go Pens" or Tina is a fan of Evgeni Malkin, click here to become a fan or "Pixburgh - City of Champions N'at" or "Bring back the Cup" or "I Love Crosby." OK. I get it. Seriously, I have gotten it about 50 times or so.
Now for the reality check. Detroit is something like 12-1 at Joe Louis Arena in the playoffs this year. I think their sole loss was an overtime defeat against Chicago. Basically, at home they appear invincible. The oddsmakers have the Red Wings favored, but it's hockey so the line is pretty tight. Nothing out of the ordinary there. HOWEVER, all the pressure is on Detroit. You know who lives in Detroit (well, Clarkston) - my Uncle Dick. Er uhhh, I mean Uncle Jack. Is this of any relevance? Possibly.
You see, there'd be a strange sense of poetic justice if the Pens win the Cup tonight. Pixburgh is the City of Champions. Detroit is home to General Motors, the hapless Detroit Lions, and of course my Uncle Jack. I have this odd feeling in my gut that everything comes full circle tonight. Normally, I'd want to host a Game 7, but my neighbor fuckface is having two slabs of his concrete driveway resurfaced. Technically, you can get through without driving over the concrete but the margin for error is slim and I lack the requisite confidence in several potential attendees. Fuckface even erected two wooden blockades that read "Driveway closed till Monday" - yes, "till" is misspelled. I might go down and scratch out the other "L".
It just seems like all the stars are aligned for a good night of contrasts.
With all this in mind, I think Detroit goes down.
Penguins 4
Red Wings 2
In keeping with the utter zaniness, I'll go WAY OUT on a limb and give the empty net goal to Fleury. GO PENCILS!
So a Rusty Nail is 3 parts Dewars, 1 part Drambuie - over ice. I figure, hey this might be good. I'll go buy a bottle of Drambuie. So I go to CVS and buy a bottle of this stuff for $30. That seems pretty expensive for a "Scottish liqueur crafted with aged malt whiskies, spiced honey and a recipe kept secret since 1745." I figured, if the Pens win tonight, I'm going to celebrate with a Rusty Nail.
So later last night, me and Chris H. are at Tony and Cleos and I ask Kara if she has ever had a Rusty Nail. She looks at me and gives this "ohhh, that drink is gross and disgusting - you want one of those?" I respond affirmatively. We try it. This has got to be the most disgusting beverage ever conceived. Drambuie tastes a lot like overly sweetened licorice infused Jagermeister with just a slight hint of ass. It totally overpowered the defenseless Dewars. It's kind of reminiscent of those white trash fuckheads who submerge sauerkraut with an enormous quantity of brown sugar. You know who you are.
Anyway, I've got this unopened bottle of Drambuie. I ditched the receipt when I left CVS, but I'm going to try and return it today. I'm pretty sure I will be successful. There's a CVS tag on the bottle and the seal isn't broken. I just don't wish to have any further contact with this Drambuie bullshit.
Anyway, it seems like the playoffs have been going on for about 6 weeks or so. Every single day, you read the endless cries on Facebook. Continue a Pens wave or "Let's go Pens" or Tina is a fan of Evgeni Malkin, click here to become a fan or "Pixburgh - City of Champions N'at" or "Bring back the Cup" or "I Love Crosby." OK. I get it. Seriously, I have gotten it about 50 times or so.
Now for the reality check. Detroit is something like 12-1 at Joe Louis Arena in the playoffs this year. I think their sole loss was an overtime defeat against Chicago. Basically, at home they appear invincible. The oddsmakers have the Red Wings favored, but it's hockey so the line is pretty tight. Nothing out of the ordinary there. HOWEVER, all the pressure is on Detroit. You know who lives in Detroit (well, Clarkston) - my Uncle Dick. Er uhhh, I mean Uncle Jack. Is this of any relevance? Possibly.
You see, there'd be a strange sense of poetic justice if the Pens win the Cup tonight. Pixburgh is the City of Champions. Detroit is home to General Motors, the hapless Detroit Lions, and of course my Uncle Jack. I have this odd feeling in my gut that everything comes full circle tonight. Normally, I'd want to host a Game 7, but my neighbor fuckface is having two slabs of his concrete driveway resurfaced. Technically, you can get through without driving over the concrete but the margin for error is slim and I lack the requisite confidence in several potential attendees. Fuckface even erected two wooden blockades that read "Driveway closed till Monday" - yes, "till" is misspelled. I might go down and scratch out the other "L".
It just seems like all the stars are aligned for a good night of contrasts.
With all this in mind, I think Detroit goes down.
Penguins 4
Red Wings 2
In keeping with the utter zaniness, I'll go WAY OUT on a limb and give the empty net goal to Fleury. GO PENCILS!
Friday, June 05, 2009
Wheeling CDBG idea
The city of Wheeling just got about $400,000 as part of a federal Community Development Block Grant-Recovery program. So we get almost a half million bucks and the city council morons (with the exception of James Tiu) want to spend it on upgrading the restrooms in the Capitol Music Hall. The main thrust of this objective is to make them handicap accessible. While I honestly sympathize with the plight of the handicapped, this must be the most fucking retarded waste of money I've ever seen.
First and foremost, the Capitol Music Hall is currently not in operation. The symphony left years ago. Every once in a blue moon, a mid range touring act would show up. And there'd also be the annual Linsly Extravaganza (gay). But right now, the doors are locked. As if renovating the restrooms is going to usher in this new era of downtown prosperity.
There's a reason no private entity wants to buy the Capitol. It isn't financially viable. It would cost a shitload to upgrade it, let alone heat the thing in the winter. It also needs a working sprinkler system to comply with existing fire codes. It also has some kind of rodent infestation issues going on in the back. I'm not entirely anti-Capitol Music Hall. It's a spectacular venue. But throwing a half million dollars at it??? What the fuck is that?
We've already got a venue (the Wheeling Island Ballroom) which can host an event for about 1,000. Granted, the Capitol is about 2,000, but there's the Pepsi Cola Roadhouse near Weirton which already has a lock on those mid-range touring acts. The Palace Theatre in Greensburg is marginally successful, but they feed off a nearby population base of over a million. Wheeling feeds off Rush Limbaugh admirers and General Tso, Bloomin Onion eating fucks.
Ok. So here's the half-million dollar question. "Fuck you Saf! What would you do with the money?"
I would build a BOARDWALK that starts at the South end of Wheeling Island and goes along the Ohio river all the way to suspension bridge. I'm not an expert on the price of lumber, but I imagine the cost and labor would be somewhere in the range of 500 lodge. Perhaps more I suppose. Wheeling could become known as the fake Atlantic City. We've already got the casino style gambling. Never underestimate the allure and convenience of I-70. It's the third most heavily traveled interstate in the country. Plus, we've now got those cool "I-70" fast lane logos on the pavement. Nice.
The Victorian houses along South Front could be used as trinket & craft shops. Let's face it. Most of the dumbshits who go to the casino are these little old ladies (some are corpulent) from Zanesville, Cambridge and elsewhere in Ohio. These are the types that eat up that shit. Beanie babies, I LOVE WHEELING t-shirts, crappy fake jewelry and sweatshirts that read "Grandma's my name and Spoiling's my game" - this shit is the sole purpose of their putrid existence. Plus, I think all of South Front is already zoned for light business and some of those homes are impressive, from an architectural standpoint. Some people dig those non-insulated Victorian houses that cost $800/month to heat in the winter. Oh yeah, get on the budget asshole.
Another plus, it connects the Island with downtown Wheeling - this would help boost attendance with the Italian Fest, the Jazz Fest and the African American jubilee thing. And the hike isn't really that far, maybe about 3/4 mile up and back. And it would also showcase the Suspension Bridge.
It would also blend in well with all the fitness/walking trails already in existence. I know it's not fashionable around here to encourage outdoor exercise among the morbidly obese church going WV Northern Baptists who proudly display their collective gunts (gunt is the more aggressive terminology of pussy pillow - it is a combination of both "gut" and "cunt").
And the damn thing would be indestructible when the Island floods, as I'm sure it will again eventually. Plus, most of that area is the highest elevation on the Island. South Front has always been the least affected by the floods, except for the houses on the end.
It also has proximity to the Wheeling Island Stadium for football games and the occasional rock concert (Styx and/or Dwight Yoakim this summer) - probably more to come in the future. I'm sure you could install some decent inexpensive lighting to dissuade the flasher weirdo fucks that regularly frequent the other paths around town. People might actually go downtown to eat (not something I'd currently recommend to friends of mine). Perhaps for my enemies - Nail City or River Shitty is appropriate. Those appetizers kick ass - Vomitous infused gruel w/ excremental topping is a Benwood favorite, or so I've heard.
The main component of my idea - if you want to do something to invigorate downtown Wheeling, why not try to catapult off one of the few successful businesses in Wheeling - the casino. Hell, the casino is already above the law with the whole nonsensical exemption of the indoor smoking ban. Maybe we could use that to our advantage to actually improve things in this god-forsaken wasteland of a town.
By the way, instead of spending a half million on handicapped restrooms, here's an idea from a 3rd grader at Woodsdale Elementary School. "Mommy, why don't they just bring in an oversized handicapped port-a-potty for the 3 or 4 people at the event." I hate to say it but that solution is just way too easy.
Honestly, we could be the "fake Atlantic City." I prefer that over Wheeltown. Slightly.
First and foremost, the Capitol Music Hall is currently not in operation. The symphony left years ago. Every once in a blue moon, a mid range touring act would show up. And there'd also be the annual Linsly Extravaganza (gay). But right now, the doors are locked. As if renovating the restrooms is going to usher in this new era of downtown prosperity.
There's a reason no private entity wants to buy the Capitol. It isn't financially viable. It would cost a shitload to upgrade it, let alone heat the thing in the winter. It also needs a working sprinkler system to comply with existing fire codes. It also has some kind of rodent infestation issues going on in the back. I'm not entirely anti-Capitol Music Hall. It's a spectacular venue. But throwing a half million dollars at it??? What the fuck is that?
We've already got a venue (the Wheeling Island Ballroom) which can host an event for about 1,000. Granted, the Capitol is about 2,000, but there's the Pepsi Cola Roadhouse near Weirton which already has a lock on those mid-range touring acts. The Palace Theatre in Greensburg is marginally successful, but they feed off a nearby population base of over a million. Wheeling feeds off Rush Limbaugh admirers and General Tso, Bloomin Onion eating fucks.
Ok. So here's the half-million dollar question. "Fuck you Saf! What would you do with the money?"
I would build a BOARDWALK that starts at the South end of Wheeling Island and goes along the Ohio river all the way to suspension bridge. I'm not an expert on the price of lumber, but I imagine the cost and labor would be somewhere in the range of 500 lodge. Perhaps more I suppose. Wheeling could become known as the fake Atlantic City. We've already got the casino style gambling. Never underestimate the allure and convenience of I-70. It's the third most heavily traveled interstate in the country. Plus, we've now got those cool "I-70" fast lane logos on the pavement. Nice.
The Victorian houses along South Front could be used as trinket & craft shops. Let's face it. Most of the dumbshits who go to the casino are these little old ladies (some are corpulent) from Zanesville, Cambridge and elsewhere in Ohio. These are the types that eat up that shit. Beanie babies, I LOVE WHEELING t-shirts, crappy fake jewelry and sweatshirts that read "Grandma's my name and Spoiling's my game" - this shit is the sole purpose of their putrid existence. Plus, I think all of South Front is already zoned for light business and some of those homes are impressive, from an architectural standpoint. Some people dig those non-insulated Victorian houses that cost $800/month to heat in the winter. Oh yeah, get on the budget asshole.
Another plus, it connects the Island with downtown Wheeling - this would help boost attendance with the Italian Fest, the Jazz Fest and the African American jubilee thing. And the hike isn't really that far, maybe about 3/4 mile up and back. And it would also showcase the Suspension Bridge.
It would also blend in well with all the fitness/walking trails already in existence. I know it's not fashionable around here to encourage outdoor exercise among the morbidly obese church going WV Northern Baptists who proudly display their collective gunts (gunt is the more aggressive terminology of pussy pillow - it is a combination of both "gut" and "cunt").
And the damn thing would be indestructible when the Island floods, as I'm sure it will again eventually. Plus, most of that area is the highest elevation on the Island. South Front has always been the least affected by the floods, except for the houses on the end.
It also has proximity to the Wheeling Island Stadium for football games and the occasional rock concert (Styx and/or Dwight Yoakim this summer) - probably more to come in the future. I'm sure you could install some decent inexpensive lighting to dissuade the flasher weirdo fucks that regularly frequent the other paths around town. People might actually go downtown to eat (not something I'd currently recommend to friends of mine). Perhaps for my enemies - Nail City or River Shitty is appropriate. Those appetizers kick ass - Vomitous infused gruel w/ excremental topping is a Benwood favorite, or so I've heard.
The main component of my idea - if you want to do something to invigorate downtown Wheeling, why not try to catapult off one of the few successful businesses in Wheeling - the casino. Hell, the casino is already above the law with the whole nonsensical exemption of the indoor smoking ban. Maybe we could use that to our advantage to actually improve things in this god-forsaken wasteland of a town.
By the way, instead of spending a half million on handicapped restrooms, here's an idea from a 3rd grader at Woodsdale Elementary School. "Mommy, why don't they just bring in an oversized handicapped port-a-potty for the 3 or 4 people at the event." I hate to say it but that solution is just way too easy.
Honestly, we could be the "fake Atlantic City." I prefer that over Wheeltown. Slightly.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Coldplay
Jess and me hit the Coldplay concert at Starlake. 4 years ago a bunch of us went up to see them. Neither of us could believe that show was FOUR years ago. Time flies. Finding tickets was rough. The weather was fantastic so there was an unusually big walk-up crowd. We managed to scrounge up a couple (one for $20, one for face) and zipped in.
This band truly understands how to deliver a concert. All aspects of the show were "larger than life." In a way, they remind me of Pink Floyd. Regardless of whether you enjoy their music, Coldplay has this rich, encompassing sound. They make you feel as if you're in a stadium atmosphere. Perhaps that's why the show was so compelling. They brought a European Soccer stadium stage show into a 20,000 seat venue.
I'm not going to recant all the details, but this show really took you for a ride. Great choice for the opener - Violet Hill. They unleashed about 100 giant yellow, inflatable beach balls during Yellow. The set list was a solid mix of old and new tunes. Tremendous version of Fix You. There was a 3 song acoustic/skitlike performance on the East side of the lawn, complete with a "Let's Go Pens" chant and the first "cell-phone wave," which I'd be willing to admit was a little on the gay side. Alright, it was steeped in fagocity. They encored with Politik and some other stuff.
As you exited the ampitheatre, everyone got a free Coldplay cd with 9 tunes on it (all live recordings). I've been pushing this idea for years. I can't believe that a band out there finally took my advice. This is a fantastic way to build customer loyalty. It's incredibly cheap and easy as well. And listening to the songs on the way home from the show helps reinforce your enjoyment of the evening. Kind of like a salivating Pavlovian dog.
Major label bands have got to realize that the days of making money off their cds is OVER. All the material is readily available online and every conceivable video is pasted on youtube. Get over it. Make money through merchandising and touring. That's the way it should be anyway. In a strange way, the proliferation of free music has improved the music industry. The real bands will find a way to survive. It's amazes me that Metallica still hasn't figured this out. They're still trying to sue some Ohio State dickhead for using Enter Sandman on his myspace page.
This band truly understands how to deliver a concert. All aspects of the show were "larger than life." In a way, they remind me of Pink Floyd. Regardless of whether you enjoy their music, Coldplay has this rich, encompassing sound. They make you feel as if you're in a stadium atmosphere. Perhaps that's why the show was so compelling. They brought a European Soccer stadium stage show into a 20,000 seat venue.
I'm not going to recant all the details, but this show really took you for a ride. Great choice for the opener - Violet Hill. They unleashed about 100 giant yellow, inflatable beach balls during Yellow. The set list was a solid mix of old and new tunes. Tremendous version of Fix You. There was a 3 song acoustic/skitlike performance on the East side of the lawn, complete with a "Let's Go Pens" chant and the first "cell-phone wave," which I'd be willing to admit was a little on the gay side. Alright, it was steeped in fagocity. They encored with Politik and some other stuff.
As you exited the ampitheatre, everyone got a free Coldplay cd with 9 tunes on it (all live recordings). I've been pushing this idea for years. I can't believe that a band out there finally took my advice. This is a fantastic way to build customer loyalty. It's incredibly cheap and easy as well. And listening to the songs on the way home from the show helps reinforce your enjoyment of the evening. Kind of like a salivating Pavlovian dog.
Major label bands have got to realize that the days of making money off their cds is OVER. All the material is readily available online and every conceivable video is pasted on youtube. Get over it. Make money through merchandising and touring. That's the way it should be anyway. In a strange way, the proliferation of free music has improved the music industry. The real bands will find a way to survive. It's amazes me that Metallica still hasn't figured this out. They're still trying to sue some Ohio State dickhead for using Enter Sandman on his myspace page.
Friday, May 29, 2009
G-20 summit, in Pittsburgh???
Alright, they just announced the G-20 for Pittsburgh, PA on September 24,25. What in the name of God are these organizers thinking? Pittsburgh is an absolute logistical nightmare for an event like this. For those unfamiliar with the G-20, it's a group of govt. insiders from the 20 most "industrialized" countries on the planet, with the exception of Pakistan, Iran and other countries we don't care for. These people get together every so often and discuss policies mostly regarding trade and world commerce.
Back to the logistical nightmare. Does anyone remember the World Trade Organization riots from Seattle in 1999. Basically, the hoodlums bashed in every store front window they could find over a 4-day period. People got tear-gassed, they called in the National Guard an imposed a citywide curfew. Nothing much got accomplished at this WTO meeting. It was generally regarded as a failure. More importantly, world leaders learned that it's not advisable to have a major gathering with worldly implications in a city with a proven track record of volatility.
Enter Pittsburgh. They're having this 2 day meeting at the David Lawrence Convention Center nestled between downtown and the Strip District. Obviously, you can't just shut down traffic entering downtown. However, you can always close a few bridges leading to the North Shore, or at the very least restrict them to foot traffic only. They shut down the Roberto Clemente bridge for Sunday ballgames at PNC and it doesn't really have a big impact. But that's on a Sunday and the G-20 summit will fall on a Thursday and Friday. Just for the record, here's the Pirates schedule. Normally, our beloved Pirates don't draw a big crowd. But these are good weather games in late September.
Wednesday, Sept. 23 against the Reds, 7:05pm
Thursday, Sept. 24 against the Reds, 12:05pm (afternoon game)
Friday, Sept. 25 against the Dodgers, 7:05pm
Why am I mentioning this? Well, I have a strong hunch the city police might try to set up protest zones on the North Shore. You could close down the 9th and 16th St. bridges and try to redirect the hoodlums across the river. Wouldn't it be crazy if the rioters go nuts on the other side of the river? They might start overturning cars near PNC Park! They'd be pissed they aren't allowed across the bridges. That Thursday afternoon game could descend into chaos if the Pittsburgh cops start launching tear gas and using water cannons. Fuck that! Take me out to the ballgame. Buy me some peanuts and crackerjack! These Pirate fans might get more than they bargained for. Hardly a relaxing day at PNC. And the Buccos will still find a way to lose.
Downtown Pittsburgh cops have a good track record, I guess. But they mostly deal with traffic issues and parking tickets, along with the occasional other mindless shit at Steelers games. But I seriously doubt they have experience dealing with dedicated hooliganism and widespread rioting.
If they try and keep the protesters in The Strip District - this could work. They've got all those parking lots right before you hit the Strip. The problem is you just can't keep these people contained in a nice little protest zone. How will you distinguish them from everybody else who works downtown? I guess the anarchy symbols and tattoo weirdos and 50 nose rings might distinguish them. Wait a minute - that's the entire Art & Culinary Institutes. Not too mention all the hipster dufuses that hang out in the Strip and downtown.
There are just too many urine laden alleys, dark crevasses, odd corner intersections,
and all the regular downtown Pittsburgh weirdos an n'at. I suspect bad things. I suspect it will start the night before with the potential for Mayor SteelerStaal calling up the National Guard. I look for lots of smashed storefront smashed windows along Penn and Liberty. The Strip District could descend into complete chaos. The arts and theater district w/ the Byham, Benedum and about 6 other venues are also in the line of fire. What can be done about this? Probably nothing.
I might get a hotel for a night or two. I'm thinking maybe the Renaissance which is in the heart of the action. I suspect they're already maxed out. But there are several other hotels in downtown. The Renaissance would provide the best vantage point though. Anybody with me?
Back to the logistical nightmare. Does anyone remember the World Trade Organization riots from Seattle in 1999. Basically, the hoodlums bashed in every store front window they could find over a 4-day period. People got tear-gassed, they called in the National Guard an imposed a citywide curfew. Nothing much got accomplished at this WTO meeting. It was generally regarded as a failure. More importantly, world leaders learned that it's not advisable to have a major gathering with worldly implications in a city with a proven track record of volatility.
Enter Pittsburgh. They're having this 2 day meeting at the David Lawrence Convention Center nestled between downtown and the Strip District. Obviously, you can't just shut down traffic entering downtown. However, you can always close a few bridges leading to the North Shore, or at the very least restrict them to foot traffic only. They shut down the Roberto Clemente bridge for Sunday ballgames at PNC and it doesn't really have a big impact. But that's on a Sunday and the G-20 summit will fall on a Thursday and Friday. Just for the record, here's the Pirates schedule. Normally, our beloved Pirates don't draw a big crowd. But these are good weather games in late September.
Wednesday, Sept. 23 against the Reds, 7:05pm
Thursday, Sept. 24 against the Reds, 12:05pm (afternoon game)
Friday, Sept. 25 against the Dodgers, 7:05pm
Why am I mentioning this? Well, I have a strong hunch the city police might try to set up protest zones on the North Shore. You could close down the 9th and 16th St. bridges and try to redirect the hoodlums across the river. Wouldn't it be crazy if the rioters go nuts on the other side of the river? They might start overturning cars near PNC Park! They'd be pissed they aren't allowed across the bridges. That Thursday afternoon game could descend into chaos if the Pittsburgh cops start launching tear gas and using water cannons. Fuck that! Take me out to the ballgame. Buy me some peanuts and crackerjack! These Pirate fans might get more than they bargained for. Hardly a relaxing day at PNC. And the Buccos will still find a way to lose.
Downtown Pittsburgh cops have a good track record, I guess. But they mostly deal with traffic issues and parking tickets, along with the occasional other mindless shit at Steelers games. But I seriously doubt they have experience dealing with dedicated hooliganism and widespread rioting.
If they try and keep the protesters in The Strip District - this could work. They've got all those parking lots right before you hit the Strip. The problem is you just can't keep these people contained in a nice little protest zone. How will you distinguish them from everybody else who works downtown? I guess the anarchy symbols and tattoo weirdos and 50 nose rings might distinguish them. Wait a minute - that's the entire Art & Culinary Institutes. Not too mention all the hipster dufuses that hang out in the Strip and downtown.
There are just too many urine laden alleys, dark crevasses, odd corner intersections,
and all the regular downtown Pittsburgh weirdos an n'at. I suspect bad things. I suspect it will start the night before with the potential for Mayor SteelerStaal calling up the National Guard. I look for lots of smashed storefront smashed windows along Penn and Liberty. The Strip District could descend into complete chaos. The arts and theater district w/ the Byham, Benedum and about 6 other venues are also in the line of fire. What can be done about this? Probably nothing.
I might get a hotel for a night or two. I'm thinking maybe the Renaissance which is in the heart of the action. I suspect they're already maxed out. But there are several other hotels in downtown. The Renaissance would provide the best vantage point though. Anybody with me?
Friday, May 22, 2009
letter about the pole
Alright, here's the letter I'm going to send my neighbor regarding his pole. I made a few changes.
May 23, 2009
Dear Bill,
I feel absolutely horrible about everything that's recently happened. Please let me assure you that I harbor no ill will. When you called me on Thursday, May 21 at 1:48 pm... well, needless to say, it was quite a shock. Considering we hadn't spoken in probably 3 years, I was just kind of surprised. And then you used the f-word on me about 62 times in less than 11 minutes. Well let's just say, I could tell you were agitated and upset. It upset me as well. I know you're from Philadelphia. A good friend of mine is from Philly and he curses a lot too. Not that much though.
Let me just say that I'm sorry my friend leaned on your wooden pole. In all honesty, it was corroded at the bottom and fell over. It almost landed on his foot. I think it's a god-blessing nobody got hurt. Although it was only about 15 ft. high and had a width of 19", the result could have been horrific. What if it had landed on his head? Brian's head would have been seriously dented. LOL. But it's certainly nothing to joke about. He told me he felt really bad, but didn't know he was on your property. He didn't know where my property ended and yours started. He even thought the pole was mine. When it started to tip over, he thought it would just be best to make sure it didn't fall and hurt somebody. That's why he threw it in the fire and burned half of it. I didn't even know until the next morning. I made sure to save the other half and leaned it up against the well. I kind of thought you might be relieved when you saw the rest of it. That way you'd be able to figure out what happened. Boy was I wrong. Brian (his nickname is Tuffy) wants to apologize but I wasn't sure if you wanted to talk to him - if you want, I can give you his number.
I'm always trying to be a good neighbor and that starts with mowing the lawn. I've got to admit, I love the exercise. It's a fantastic workout. In fact, I just ran the Ogden 5K today. I finished with a good pace - 8:33 per mile. They listed me as...
Eric Satersreic, 38, Wheeling, WV - 26:32
How about that? Can you believe they messed up my name that badly?
But the point about me and the lawn - we've always used that pole to delineate the property boundary. I just wanted to point out that I always mow that 10 square ft or so. Doesn't sound like much. I think you own about an acre. Me too, hee hee hee. I know the pole is technically on your property, but nobody ever goes there. Well, except your maintenance crew. You must have 4 of those guys who come all the time. Thank you so much for being concerned about the environment!
So here's what happened. My buddy just leaned up against that old pole. It was late and dark and oh boy, was it pouring down rain that night. Sure enough, the darn pole started to move. The base of the pole was soooo corroded from all the water that settles there. Also, I think it was hit by the old lady (somebody famous) who 2 months ago drove over my hillside. I think she probably bumped into it as well. Her car weighs a lot more than Brian! And I can't believe she drove into your pool. Uggghhhh! And to top it off, the tow truck tore up my lawn when they towed her out. The tow company called me and asked if it was okay they come through my property to remove her car! I was like, well of course you can drive through. We need to get that car out of Bill's pool. How else would they have managed to remove it? I hope you're not upset with her and taking it it out on me. I just want you to know, when I heard about your pool tarp getting ripped apart, I was just as upset! Not sure about the whole thing - I was in Pittsburgh that night, but it was absolutely crazy! Thank God nobody got hurt. There were tire ruts all through my yard! I talked to her son about it and he apologized on her behalf. Not sure if you talked with either of them - I know you like to be left alone but you need to know that she felt horrible about the mishap. I wanted to talk to you about it, but only mentioned it to your housekeeper Karen. She couldn't believe all that happened either. I just want you to know that I know where you're coming from. Wheeling's a small city and I like my privacy just as much as the next guy. No harm, no foul.
I just want to be a good neighbor. All the other Ridgewood Drive residents and me seem to get along. Surely you know, I hang out with Beck and Jake. They live by that gate. You know... the gate that stays open these days. What's up with that??? We have a gate??? You'd think we're Hollywood stars living in Wheeling!
OK - I think I've got a new pole for you. My friend has one and we were planning on re-digging the hole, but I've got to walk on that sliver of your property if you want me to put up a new one. And you just got it surveyed again. I have a hunch that your team of skilled laborers is about to put up another fence. If you're having them put up yet another fence, I was worried it might look weird having a 15 ft. thin pole at the point where the split rail bends. It just would seem strange since the wooden pole never did anything. Ha Ha - some would say it was a utility pole that had no utility! In any event, I need to just make sure you really need/want a new pole. Let's be honest - it would look really weird to have another pole that just stands there next to a fence. Also, I don't want to interfere with your maintenance crew building another fence. My friend Brian said we should plant a nice tree there instead. I told him we can't just go around planting trees on everybody's property. I think he used to be a hippie.
And those particular poles are kind of outdated. My friend from AEP said it's probably their pole. Wouldn't it be crazy if you got so angry and it wasn't even your pole in the first place. OMG. He said, don't worry about it - "when they built the Allen's house, they probably put it up temporarily just to use it as an electricity meter. It's not the end of the world. Eric, if you've mowed that property for 5 years, how do your know it's not your pole? Maybe you own it! Well, maybe not. I'm not sure. If you take care of someone's property for 5 years, I think it legally becomes yours. And hey, why doesn't his lawn crew ever mow the hillside right next to your garage. All he has to do is tell them. It's not like they're going to defy his orders."
I just want you to know how horrible I feel. I just want it to go back to the way it was. We never talked but that's okay. We each have a private acre in the city. I just don't want future problems with that little, tiny sliver of land. Honestly, it's only 10 square ft. or so. I promise you - me and my friends will totally stay clear from now on. After all, I just go down there to mow. It's a great workout. I love it.
If you have any other problems, feel free to give me a ring. I know we've only spoken maybe 4 times in 5 years, but we could always be friends. Or not, it's totally up to you.
Please, let's just be happy nobody got hurt and try to move on. If you need Brian's number, just let me know. You repeatedly mentioned suing me. That sounds horrible. Neighbors should be try to get along and the last thing our country needs is to clog up the courts, especially with the whole Guantanamo Bay prisoner release thing. Like our President says, we need to look forward, not backward.
Sincerely,
Your neighbor,
Eric Saferstein
PS - By the way, you're probably not going to like this but I taped our phone conversation and put it on Youtube! Don't worry. Neither of our names are mentioned. You said your name at the start but I didn't hit the record button until about 30 seconds in. The clip has gotten 56 hits since I last checked and some very funny comments. So I guess you could say we're both "famously anonymous" or "anonymously famous." Now I'm sure you'd agree, that is simply hysterical!
May 23, 2009
Dear Bill,
I feel absolutely horrible about everything that's recently happened. Please let me assure you that I harbor no ill will. When you called me on Thursday, May 21 at 1:48 pm... well, needless to say, it was quite a shock. Considering we hadn't spoken in probably 3 years, I was just kind of surprised. And then you used the f-word on me about 62 times in less than 11 minutes. Well let's just say, I could tell you were agitated and upset. It upset me as well. I know you're from Philadelphia. A good friend of mine is from Philly and he curses a lot too. Not that much though.
Let me just say that I'm sorry my friend leaned on your wooden pole. In all honesty, it was corroded at the bottom and fell over. It almost landed on his foot. I think it's a god-blessing nobody got hurt. Although it was only about 15 ft. high and had a width of 19", the result could have been horrific. What if it had landed on his head? Brian's head would have been seriously dented. LOL. But it's certainly nothing to joke about. He told me he felt really bad, but didn't know he was on your property. He didn't know where my property ended and yours started. He even thought the pole was mine. When it started to tip over, he thought it would just be best to make sure it didn't fall and hurt somebody. That's why he threw it in the fire and burned half of it. I didn't even know until the next morning. I made sure to save the other half and leaned it up against the well. I kind of thought you might be relieved when you saw the rest of it. That way you'd be able to figure out what happened. Boy was I wrong. Brian (his nickname is Tuffy) wants to apologize but I wasn't sure if you wanted to talk to him - if you want, I can give you his number.
I'm always trying to be a good neighbor and that starts with mowing the lawn. I've got to admit, I love the exercise. It's a fantastic workout. In fact, I just ran the Ogden 5K today. I finished with a good pace - 8:33 per mile. They listed me as...
Eric Satersreic, 38, Wheeling, WV - 26:32
How about that? Can you believe they messed up my name that badly?
But the point about me and the lawn - we've always used that pole to delineate the property boundary. I just wanted to point out that I always mow that 10 square ft or so. Doesn't sound like much. I think you own about an acre. Me too, hee hee hee. I know the pole is technically on your property, but nobody ever goes there. Well, except your maintenance crew. You must have 4 of those guys who come all the time. Thank you so much for being concerned about the environment!
So here's what happened. My buddy just leaned up against that old pole. It was late and dark and oh boy, was it pouring down rain that night. Sure enough, the darn pole started to move. The base of the pole was soooo corroded from all the water that settles there. Also, I think it was hit by the old lady (somebody famous) who 2 months ago drove over my hillside. I think she probably bumped into it as well. Her car weighs a lot more than Brian! And I can't believe she drove into your pool. Uggghhhh! And to top it off, the tow truck tore up my lawn when they towed her out. The tow company called me and asked if it was okay they come through my property to remove her car! I was like, well of course you can drive through. We need to get that car out of Bill's pool. How else would they have managed to remove it? I hope you're not upset with her and taking it it out on me. I just want you to know, when I heard about your pool tarp getting ripped apart, I was just as upset! Not sure about the whole thing - I was in Pittsburgh that night, but it was absolutely crazy! Thank God nobody got hurt. There were tire ruts all through my yard! I talked to her son about it and he apologized on her behalf. Not sure if you talked with either of them - I know you like to be left alone but you need to know that she felt horrible about the mishap. I wanted to talk to you about it, but only mentioned it to your housekeeper Karen. She couldn't believe all that happened either. I just want you to know that I know where you're coming from. Wheeling's a small city and I like my privacy just as much as the next guy. No harm, no foul.
I just want to be a good neighbor. All the other Ridgewood Drive residents and me seem to get along. Surely you know, I hang out with Beck and Jake. They live by that gate. You know... the gate that stays open these days. What's up with that??? We have a gate??? You'd think we're Hollywood stars living in Wheeling!
OK - I think I've got a new pole for you. My friend has one and we were planning on re-digging the hole, but I've got to walk on that sliver of your property if you want me to put up a new one. And you just got it surveyed again. I have a hunch that your team of skilled laborers is about to put up another fence. If you're having them put up yet another fence, I was worried it might look weird having a 15 ft. thin pole at the point where the split rail bends. It just would seem strange since the wooden pole never did anything. Ha Ha - some would say it was a utility pole that had no utility! In any event, I need to just make sure you really need/want a new pole. Let's be honest - it would look really weird to have another pole that just stands there next to a fence. Also, I don't want to interfere with your maintenance crew building another fence. My friend Brian said we should plant a nice tree there instead. I told him we can't just go around planting trees on everybody's property. I think he used to be a hippie.
And those particular poles are kind of outdated. My friend from AEP said it's probably their pole. Wouldn't it be crazy if you got so angry and it wasn't even your pole in the first place. OMG. He said, don't worry about it - "when they built the Allen's house, they probably put it up temporarily just to use it as an electricity meter. It's not the end of the world. Eric, if you've mowed that property for 5 years, how do your know it's not your pole? Maybe you own it! Well, maybe not. I'm not sure. If you take care of someone's property for 5 years, I think it legally becomes yours. And hey, why doesn't his lawn crew ever mow the hillside right next to your garage. All he has to do is tell them. It's not like they're going to defy his orders."
I just want you to know how horrible I feel. I just want it to go back to the way it was. We never talked but that's okay. We each have a private acre in the city. I just don't want future problems with that little, tiny sliver of land. Honestly, it's only 10 square ft. or so. I promise you - me and my friends will totally stay clear from now on. After all, I just go down there to mow. It's a great workout. I love it.
If you have any other problems, feel free to give me a ring. I know we've only spoken maybe 4 times in 5 years, but we could always be friends. Or not, it's totally up to you.
Please, let's just be happy nobody got hurt and try to move on. If you need Brian's number, just let me know. You repeatedly mentioned suing me. That sounds horrible. Neighbors should be try to get along and the last thing our country needs is to clog up the courts, especially with the whole Guantanamo Bay prisoner release thing. Like our President says, we need to look forward, not backward.
Sincerely,
Your neighbor,
Eric Saferstein
PS - By the way, you're probably not going to like this but I taped our phone conversation and put it on Youtube! Don't worry. Neither of our names are mentioned. You said your name at the start but I didn't hit the record button until about 30 seconds in. The clip has gotten 56 hits since I last checked and some very funny comments. So I guess you could say we're both "famously anonymous" or "anonymously famous." Now I'm sure you'd agree, that is simply hysterical!
Thursday, May 21, 2009
pole
For the love of God, life can't get much stranger. I just got off the phone w/ my neighbor Bill. Needless to say, he was in a FIT OF RAGE. For 10 minutes and 46 seconds he proceeded to call me every derogatory name in the book. I could hardly get a word in edgewise. I barely know this guy. The 3 or 4 times we've spoken in 5 years, he has always been incredibly confrontational. Not overtly hostile, but always exceedingly direct and caustic. Over the years, we've pretty much had what I'd call a "policy of successful avoidance." Well, until today...
I'll start from the beginning. I had my annual Pre-Memorial Day party on Saturday. Pretty good turnout despite the bad weather. I'd say about 25 people showed up and we had a good time. I got good reviews from everyone I spoke with afterwards. Nothing too crazy - just some drinks, foosball, dome - you know the drill. Anyway, I had about 8 skids and some firewood for the fire pit down below. Nobody went down to the pit because of the inclement weather, so I had my "point man" TFE burn some skids for a nice visual effect from the upper deck. Anyway, there has always been this telephone pole that sits about 3 feet inside my neighbor's yard. I use it to delineate the property line for mowing purposes. Even though it's not exact, it has always sufficed. It's an awkward property line for a variety of reasons. Never been a problem... until today. You see... here's what happened on Saturday. TFE "leaned" against the pole and it started to fall over. So he just decided to knock it over and throw it in the firepit. At the time, I thought to myself, Oh well - it was an eyesore - served no purpose - was probably built by accident - and it's about as half as thick as a normal telephone pole - and the bottom was half-corroded because it stands in the valley of the lawn where water collects. Plus, he never walks over there anyway. The only people who come into remote contact w/ the thing, until Saturday, were his army of hired soldiers (his groundskeeping crew) and I guess Gil White's mom may have brushed up against it a month ago when she charged recklessly into his pool. Anyway, the thing was corroded pretty badly at the bottom. TFE rocked it, it fell over and he threw it in the pit.
Well, all HELL broke loose this afternoon. I get the call. "Bill Adel here! You and your fucking friends destroyed my pole. You came on my fucking property and fucked with my pole! You and your fucking animal friends! You threw it in your fucking bonfire. You vandalized my property! If you don't put up a new pole, I'm going to sue your fucking ass. I know every politician and banker in this fucking town! You're fucking with the wrong guy!"
I swear to you, I"m trying to calm him down and explain the thing was corroded and basically just fell over and we disposed of it (albeit, in a fiery pit of damnation). Keep in mind, this 20 ft. or so pole has never served any viable purpose. At least, no valid function that I can surmise.
Seriously, he unleashed a venomous tirade. Fuck this, fuck you, fuck that. It was borderline insane. I wish I could have taped it, because you can't feign this type of rage. Kind of like Henry Rollins singing Liar, but not quite because he's just acting. Honestly, I can't compare what happened to anything I've ever seen or heard.
I tried to be as conciliatory as possible. After all, the pole (although it was worthless) is technically, but barely, on his property. Even though he accused us of using a chainsaw, I tried to assure him that it basically was leaned on and fell over. He was way to enraged to believe a word I said.
So it's five days later and I guess he realized his "pole" (w/ no intrinsic value) has disappeared. Then he sees the remains of half of it sitting near the fire pit along with the scorched earth. This probably lit the fuse and he went into an uncontrollable rage.
So here's the deal. What do I do? He's PISSED OFF. He's demanding a new pole and he also says he's going to build a split rail fence to delineate the property line. He brought up the split rail fence idea when I first moved in, but backed off because there was really no legitimate reason. Well, maybe he had the foresight to realize something like this could possibly happen. An unthinkable, unjustifiable form of animalistic vandalism.
He also repeatedly accused me and my "animal" friends of wanting to come over and burn his house down. He said he can't fucking sleep at night knowing his life and property are in jeopardy. He can't go away over Memorial Day because he's "afraid of what might happen." I'm not making this stuff up.
Well... Well... What to do? I could ask him if we could plant a tree instead. It would look nicer and at least serve a purpose. Trust me, there's no way he'd go for that. He wants his pole back. Believe me, he'd be willing to spend thousands on litigation just to prove his point. The problem - I'm afraid to go near the guy. Well, not afraid per se. I just don't want to see him have a heart attack. I'd have to administer mouth-to-mouth before calling 9-11. Needless to say, even more grounds for litigation. I tried to homophy him or something. I just don't know. In the past, I've spoken w/ him via his housekeeper (possibly the sweetest, kindest woman in the entire Ohio Valley). I'll probably run into her next week so I'll see if he has cooled off a bit. Maybe we can reach some rational accommodation (I doubt it).
You have to understand that this guy is a total xenophobe/hermit/recluse. No friends to the best of my knowledge. I've never seen any visitors, with the exception of his endless maintenance crews. I'm hardly a carpenter or handyman of any kind, but I get the impression he has never even screwed in a light bulb. His housekeeper comes 5 days a week! What normal single man needs a housekeeper 5 days out of the week?
What's even crazier - let's say I find and erect this 20 ft. pole which serves no purpose. Then, there'll be a pole right inside of a newly constructed split rail fence. It's going to look really weird. Keep in mind, this pole is about half as thick as a regular pole. It would have made a cool totem pole. Then, we could have danced around it like wild injuns!
Even funnier, Danno and I talked about chopping the pole down the day I moved in (5 years ago). He thought it would be cool to split it in half and turn it into a hammock (before he had the property surveyed). For the love of Christ! Could you imagine his reaction to that one? I move in and chop his pole down and then he sees me sipping a beer and scotch while dozing off in the hammock. I'm not religious, but for the love of God! The mental anguish would send him checking into Northwood.
I don't think we've heard the end of this one. I guess I'm going to see if we can round up a pole. Everyone who reads my blogs, knows I don't hold back. I report it all, even if it would make me appear guilty. Hell, let's be honest - this is amusing shit. Stuff you couldn't make up even if you tried. Maybe I should go around asking for old mops, poles, brooms and start planting them down in the yard. Some kind of twisted retaliation. On second thought, no.
If anyone out there has a 20-25 ft. pole, lemme know. In the meantime, be on the lookout for a utility pole which has no utility (this kind of irony follows me wherever I go). I'm going to get the dimensions right now - stand by... Alright, my real telephone/utility pole has a 32" circumfrence. This pole is 19" around. I still have about half of it. I'm guessing it was maybe 20 ft. in the air, even though he claims it was 30 or 40 ft, which is totally ludicrous. So I probably need one that's about 25 ft (5 ft. in the ground).
Maybe I should do nothing and claim it was a hazard. Honestly, it could have fallen over and hurt someone on my property. Maybe that's why it took him 5 days to audibilize his rage. He thinks we chainsawed it. I'll say this - there are plenty of "animal eyewitnesses" to back me up. Back in the day, I would have ignored all of this and just laughed it off. Maybe use it as a pick line - after all, it's quite an entertaining story if you know me. But to be honest, I think I'd rather put up a new pole for him, have him install his fence and just steer clear of him. I'm not the only person on our street who avoids him.
One more thing. You'd think the old lady driving into his pool last month and shredding his tarp would anger him. Apparently, not so. Perhaps it's a culmination of senseless vandalism that put him over the edge.
One more thing... Do I have any future ownership claims or liability regarding this useless pole? What if it falls over and squashes a squirrel or turkey? Is it my fault? Could I be held liable? Maybe it would could come back to haunt me. What if he commits suicide by hanging himself from the new pole. And you think I'm kidding??? His estate could sue me. After all he knows "every fucking politician and banker in this town!" I still don't get the banker bit... G Max - you hear what I'm sayin? You are a "fucking eyewitness animal banker!" Help me! For the love of God, help us all!
I'll start from the beginning. I had my annual Pre-Memorial Day party on Saturday. Pretty good turnout despite the bad weather. I'd say about 25 people showed up and we had a good time. I got good reviews from everyone I spoke with afterwards. Nothing too crazy - just some drinks, foosball, dome - you know the drill. Anyway, I had about 8 skids and some firewood for the fire pit down below. Nobody went down to the pit because of the inclement weather, so I had my "point man" TFE burn some skids for a nice visual effect from the upper deck. Anyway, there has always been this telephone pole that sits about 3 feet inside my neighbor's yard. I use it to delineate the property line for mowing purposes. Even though it's not exact, it has always sufficed. It's an awkward property line for a variety of reasons. Never been a problem... until today. You see... here's what happened on Saturday. TFE "leaned" against the pole and it started to fall over. So he just decided to knock it over and throw it in the firepit. At the time, I thought to myself, Oh well - it was an eyesore - served no purpose - was probably built by accident - and it's about as half as thick as a normal telephone pole - and the bottom was half-corroded because it stands in the valley of the lawn where water collects. Plus, he never walks over there anyway. The only people who come into remote contact w/ the thing, until Saturday, were his army of hired soldiers (his groundskeeping crew) and I guess Gil White's mom may have brushed up against it a month ago when she charged recklessly into his pool. Anyway, the thing was corroded pretty badly at the bottom. TFE rocked it, it fell over and he threw it in the pit.
Well, all HELL broke loose this afternoon. I get the call. "Bill Adel here! You and your fucking friends destroyed my pole. You came on my fucking property and fucked with my pole! You and your fucking animal friends! You threw it in your fucking bonfire. You vandalized my property! If you don't put up a new pole, I'm going to sue your fucking ass. I know every politician and banker in this fucking town! You're fucking with the wrong guy!"
I swear to you, I"m trying to calm him down and explain the thing was corroded and basically just fell over and we disposed of it (albeit, in a fiery pit of damnation). Keep in mind, this 20 ft. or so pole has never served any viable purpose. At least, no valid function that I can surmise.
Seriously, he unleashed a venomous tirade. Fuck this, fuck you, fuck that. It was borderline insane. I wish I could have taped it, because you can't feign this type of rage. Kind of like Henry Rollins singing Liar, but not quite because he's just acting. Honestly, I can't compare what happened to anything I've ever seen or heard.
I tried to be as conciliatory as possible. After all, the pole (although it was worthless) is technically, but barely, on his property. Even though he accused us of using a chainsaw, I tried to assure him that it basically was leaned on and fell over. He was way to enraged to believe a word I said.
So it's five days later and I guess he realized his "pole" (w/ no intrinsic value) has disappeared. Then he sees the remains of half of it sitting near the fire pit along with the scorched earth. This probably lit the fuse and he went into an uncontrollable rage.
So here's the deal. What do I do? He's PISSED OFF. He's demanding a new pole and he also says he's going to build a split rail fence to delineate the property line. He brought up the split rail fence idea when I first moved in, but backed off because there was really no legitimate reason. Well, maybe he had the foresight to realize something like this could possibly happen. An unthinkable, unjustifiable form of animalistic vandalism.
He also repeatedly accused me and my "animal" friends of wanting to come over and burn his house down. He said he can't fucking sleep at night knowing his life and property are in jeopardy. He can't go away over Memorial Day because he's "afraid of what might happen." I'm not making this stuff up.
Well... Well... What to do? I could ask him if we could plant a tree instead. It would look nicer and at least serve a purpose. Trust me, there's no way he'd go for that. He wants his pole back. Believe me, he'd be willing to spend thousands on litigation just to prove his point. The problem - I'm afraid to go near the guy. Well, not afraid per se. I just don't want to see him have a heart attack. I'd have to administer mouth-to-mouth before calling 9-11. Needless to say, even more grounds for litigation. I tried to homophy him or something. I just don't know. In the past, I've spoken w/ him via his housekeeper (possibly the sweetest, kindest woman in the entire Ohio Valley). I'll probably run into her next week so I'll see if he has cooled off a bit. Maybe we can reach some rational accommodation (I doubt it).
You have to understand that this guy is a total xenophobe/hermit/recluse. No friends to the best of my knowledge. I've never seen any visitors, with the exception of his endless maintenance crews. I'm hardly a carpenter or handyman of any kind, but I get the impression he has never even screwed in a light bulb. His housekeeper comes 5 days a week! What normal single man needs a housekeeper 5 days out of the week?
What's even crazier - let's say I find and erect this 20 ft. pole which serves no purpose. Then, there'll be a pole right inside of a newly constructed split rail fence. It's going to look really weird. Keep in mind, this pole is about half as thick as a regular pole. It would have made a cool totem pole. Then, we could have danced around it like wild injuns!
Even funnier, Danno and I talked about chopping the pole down the day I moved in (5 years ago). He thought it would be cool to split it in half and turn it into a hammock (before he had the property surveyed). For the love of Christ! Could you imagine his reaction to that one? I move in and chop his pole down and then he sees me sipping a beer and scotch while dozing off in the hammock. I'm not religious, but for the love of God! The mental anguish would send him checking into Northwood.
I don't think we've heard the end of this one. I guess I'm going to see if we can round up a pole. Everyone who reads my blogs, knows I don't hold back. I report it all, even if it would make me appear guilty. Hell, let's be honest - this is amusing shit. Stuff you couldn't make up even if you tried. Maybe I should go around asking for old mops, poles, brooms and start planting them down in the yard. Some kind of twisted retaliation. On second thought, no.
If anyone out there has a 20-25 ft. pole, lemme know. In the meantime, be on the lookout for a utility pole which has no utility (this kind of irony follows me wherever I go). I'm going to get the dimensions right now - stand by... Alright, my real telephone/utility pole has a 32" circumfrence. This pole is 19" around. I still have about half of it. I'm guessing it was maybe 20 ft. in the air, even though he claims it was 30 or 40 ft, which is totally ludicrous. So I probably need one that's about 25 ft (5 ft. in the ground).
Maybe I should do nothing and claim it was a hazard. Honestly, it could have fallen over and hurt someone on my property. Maybe that's why it took him 5 days to audibilize his rage. He thinks we chainsawed it. I'll say this - there are plenty of "animal eyewitnesses" to back me up. Back in the day, I would have ignored all of this and just laughed it off. Maybe use it as a pick line - after all, it's quite an entertaining story if you know me. But to be honest, I think I'd rather put up a new pole for him, have him install his fence and just steer clear of him. I'm not the only person on our street who avoids him.
One more thing. You'd think the old lady driving into his pool last month and shredding his tarp would anger him. Apparently, not so. Perhaps it's a culmination of senseless vandalism that put him over the edge.
One more thing... Do I have any future ownership claims or liability regarding this useless pole? What if it falls over and squashes a squirrel or turkey? Is it my fault? Could I be held liable? Maybe it would could come back to haunt me. What if he commits suicide by hanging himself from the new pole. And you think I'm kidding??? His estate could sue me. After all he knows "every fucking politician and banker in this town!" I still don't get the banker bit... G Max - you hear what I'm sayin? You are a "fucking eyewitness animal banker!" Help me! For the love of God, help us all!
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
I'll be the first to admit it. I enjoy reading status updates on facebook. I like the brief descriptions of encapsulated thoughts of others. Of course I have a few complaints. And here we go...
At this moment (6:41am) I am drinking a cup of coffee. If I were to share this with others via facebook, perhaps I would describe the type of coffee I'm drinking which happens to be Archer Farms Costa Rican Tarrazu purchased from Target. It's a milder roast. Doesn't that provoke a little more scrutiny than, "Saf loves his morning coffee. Mmmmm." Maybe you could offer a quality ranking on a scale of 1-10. My point - if it's your intention to share this information (which should be construed as marginally weak), then why not embrace it a bit more fully. An identical argument could be made for discussing dinner plans. Instead of "Saf is hungry and can't wait to eat dinner. Yummmm." How about "Saf's ravenous appetite will be squelched by a large plate of shrimp scampi." Alright, maybe you don't need to utilize these flowery descriptions, but I think the point is clear.
How about the "dumbing down" of facebook? This is particularly upsetting since it takes a while longer to download the page because of all these endless quizzes and "illusory" items that get sent. I have this one friend - a nice guy but I barely know him. He enjoys sending people nonexistent perishable food items using a "Meet me at the diner" application. This gets pretty annoying. You get all the updates. He'll send a fictitious blueberry muffin to Diana or a tray of mythical hash browns to Chris. I realize I'm a cynic, but how does anyone derive pleasure or satisfaction from this? And he does it on a consistent basis. What a great way to start the week. A fake poached egg from an internet nerd in upstate New York! I guess I could click off the enable button but I don't have good luck trying to moderate these things.
I've also tired of all the amusing quizzes. Which U.S. President are you? I'm fucking James Polk. Yes, I'd like to fuck James Polk. You're Rutherford B. Hayes. And there's an endless description of the Teapot Dome scandal or the devious manner in which you purchased Louisiana from the French. Does anyone actually read these thoroughly uninspiring robotic messages? I'd hate to be the person who writes them - talk about regurgitated, tedious bullshit.
Or how about "Name my 5 favorite sports teams" - Steelers, Steelers, Steelers, Mountaineers, Steelers. Ohhh, how creative! Now I get it. You must be the biggest Pittsburgh Steelers fan EVER. LMAO. Can you fathom what it says about a person if they saw someone write that and then chose to make the same exact comment, but using Cowboys, Cowboys, Cowboys, Lakers, Cowboys. In all likelihood, this is someone I'd never want to meet. Oddly enough, out of my 103 alleged "friends" - probably 8 of them would do this. And another thing, I have 5 friends of whom I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA WHO THEY ARE. What on earth possesses people to click off the friend box if you've never even spoken to the person? I guess it's the anonymity of the internet that emboldens the normally cautious late night/online soccer mom.
Saf, if you have all these problems with facebook, why do you check it several times a day? Honestly, I don't have a decent answer. Maybe I've capitulated to the mindless nature of it all. Maybe today I'll go find out which Pearl Jam song I am. It had better be "Faithful." Honestly, I can easily do without the twitter/myspace bullshit and have never investigated the friendster crap, but there is a slight allure to seeing what's going on with everyone. And I will admit, I enjoy knowing when so and so got engaged or had a baby. I'm less interested in knowing someone's grade on a nursing exam.
Olga lost 3 lbs. in 12 days! Hooray!
Saf "likes this" - of course Saf likes this... her morbid obesity was offensive to most local residents.
Erin hasn't smoked a cigarette in 14 hours.
Saf "likes this" - of course I like this... Your breath stunk when you were babbling incessantly about American Idol.
Kari is drinking Buttery Nipples and Sex on the Beaches!
Saf feels growing animosity and seething pangs of contempt.
At this moment (6:41am) I am drinking a cup of coffee. If I were to share this with others via facebook, perhaps I would describe the type of coffee I'm drinking which happens to be Archer Farms Costa Rican Tarrazu purchased from Target. It's a milder roast. Doesn't that provoke a little more scrutiny than, "Saf loves his morning coffee. Mmmmm." Maybe you could offer a quality ranking on a scale of 1-10. My point - if it's your intention to share this information (which should be construed as marginally weak), then why not embrace it a bit more fully. An identical argument could be made for discussing dinner plans. Instead of "Saf is hungry and can't wait to eat dinner. Yummmm." How about "Saf's ravenous appetite will be squelched by a large plate of shrimp scampi." Alright, maybe you don't need to utilize these flowery descriptions, but I think the point is clear.
How about the "dumbing down" of facebook? This is particularly upsetting since it takes a while longer to download the page because of all these endless quizzes and "illusory" items that get sent. I have this one friend - a nice guy but I barely know him. He enjoys sending people nonexistent perishable food items using a "Meet me at the diner" application. This gets pretty annoying. You get all the updates. He'll send a fictitious blueberry muffin to Diana or a tray of mythical hash browns to Chris. I realize I'm a cynic, but how does anyone derive pleasure or satisfaction from this? And he does it on a consistent basis. What a great way to start the week. A fake poached egg from an internet nerd in upstate New York! I guess I could click off the enable button but I don't have good luck trying to moderate these things.
I've also tired of all the amusing quizzes. Which U.S. President are you? I'm fucking James Polk. Yes, I'd like to fuck James Polk. You're Rutherford B. Hayes. And there's an endless description of the Teapot Dome scandal or the devious manner in which you purchased Louisiana from the French. Does anyone actually read these thoroughly uninspiring robotic messages? I'd hate to be the person who writes them - talk about regurgitated, tedious bullshit.
Or how about "Name my 5 favorite sports teams" - Steelers, Steelers, Steelers, Mountaineers, Steelers. Ohhh, how creative! Now I get it. You must be the biggest Pittsburgh Steelers fan EVER. LMAO. Can you fathom what it says about a person if they saw someone write that and then chose to make the same exact comment, but using Cowboys, Cowboys, Cowboys, Lakers, Cowboys. In all likelihood, this is someone I'd never want to meet. Oddly enough, out of my 103 alleged "friends" - probably 8 of them would do this. And another thing, I have 5 friends of whom I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA WHO THEY ARE. What on earth possesses people to click off the friend box if you've never even spoken to the person? I guess it's the anonymity of the internet that emboldens the normally cautious late night/online soccer mom.
Saf, if you have all these problems with facebook, why do you check it several times a day? Honestly, I don't have a decent answer. Maybe I've capitulated to the mindless nature of it all. Maybe today I'll go find out which Pearl Jam song I am. It had better be "Faithful." Honestly, I can easily do without the twitter/myspace bullshit and have never investigated the friendster crap, but there is a slight allure to seeing what's going on with everyone. And I will admit, I enjoy knowing when so and so got engaged or had a baby. I'm less interested in knowing someone's grade on a nursing exam.
Olga lost 3 lbs. in 12 days! Hooray!
Saf "likes this" - of course Saf likes this... her morbid obesity was offensive to most local residents.
Erin hasn't smoked a cigarette in 14 hours.
Saf "likes this" - of course I like this... Your breath stunk when you were babbling incessantly about American Idol.
Kari is drinking Buttery Nipples and Sex on the Beaches!
Saf feels growing animosity and seething pangs of contempt.
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
American Idol
Greetings! My name is John Taylor or something relatively generic. For those of you who don't know me, I'm the lead singer of Foghat. We wrote a crappy song called Slow Ride in the late 1970's. It helped catapult us to stardom. We opened for Aerosmith back in the day and now we play on the non-Vegas casino circuit. Sometimes we rock the fuck out of an abandoned roller skating rink. This summer, we have multiple gigs at several semi-defunct midwest chili cook-offs. Omaha, here we come! Sioux City, Iowa - you bitches are next! I'm not even going to say what's goin' down in Tulsa.
In any event, we're all here jammin at the Red Roof Inn and some groupie turned on American Idol. What the fuck! Ahhh, this is totally bitchin! They're playin' our monster hit "Slow Ride!" Suh-weeeet!
Wait a minute. It's some virgin teenage girl and an emo-what-the-fuck-effeminate-outlandish-gay-quasi-heartthrob-lame-douchebag-singing sensation. It's some kind of man-boy love child. These two are singing our song! What the fuck is going on? OK, it just ended. The judges are weighing in...
Paula says, "You guys totally ROCK! Yinz are the greatest rock stars ever!"
Black dude weighs in, "Yeahhh, Dog! You two are the shizzist of the nit! It was doper than dope!"
finally the Simon guy says, "Way to go. You two have sizzled in a fashion more explosive than contemporary bacon!"
Alright, do you really need me to explain how pathetic this show is? When you start to really think about it, it's a bad joke with unabashed, runaway momentum.
This whole American Idol bullshit is not good. When I grew up, you got to see rock bands and musicians. You identified with them. They became a part of you. Now all we get are these sugar-coated "phenoms." They're so inspiring. I can't wait to talk about Sparkle Timmons tomorrow with the gals at the water cooler. She was Sooo ON last night! How about the token Hindu nerdman in a polo shirt? Or what about pony-tailed blondee? She's my fav! That fat-ass waitress from Detroit is so sassy. LOL!
Joe the Plumber - you missed your true calling. At least you would have been taken seriously by 40% of the population. Instead, you got 20%. Still... not bad for a dumbshit from northern Toledo.
In any event, we're all here jammin at the Red Roof Inn and some groupie turned on American Idol. What the fuck! Ahhh, this is totally bitchin! They're playin' our monster hit "Slow Ride!" Suh-weeeet!
Wait a minute. It's some virgin teenage girl and an emo-what-the-fuck-effeminate-outlandish-gay-quasi-heartthrob-lame-douchebag-singing sensation. It's some kind of man-boy love child. These two are singing our song! What the fuck is going on? OK, it just ended. The judges are weighing in...
Paula says, "You guys totally ROCK! Yinz are the greatest rock stars ever!"
Black dude weighs in, "Yeahhh, Dog! You two are the shizzist of the nit! It was doper than dope!"
finally the Simon guy says, "Way to go. You two have sizzled in a fashion more explosive than contemporary bacon!"
Alright, do you really need me to explain how pathetic this show is? When you start to really think about it, it's a bad joke with unabashed, runaway momentum.
This whole American Idol bullshit is not good. When I grew up, you got to see rock bands and musicians. You identified with them. They became a part of you. Now all we get are these sugar-coated "phenoms." They're so inspiring. I can't wait to talk about Sparkle Timmons tomorrow with the gals at the water cooler. She was Sooo ON last night! How about the token Hindu nerdman in a polo shirt? Or what about pony-tailed blondee? She's my fav! That fat-ass waitress from Detroit is so sassy. LOL!
Joe the Plumber - you missed your true calling. At least you would have been taken seriously by 40% of the population. Instead, you got 20%. Still... not bad for a dumbshit from northern Toledo.
Saturday, May 02, 2009
future skirmish
During the course of the summer of 2009, I have devised a plot so diabolical and potentially devastating, the implications so vast and far reaching, it will be felt by all who take the Oglebay exit as they venture onto the main drag of National Road. It is my stated intention to slowly increase the level of hostility between all the businesses. Minit Car Wash, Long John Silvers, TJ's Pukegarden and the 19th Ho will be permanently impacted. Bob Evans might even get drawn into the fray. It's my goal to make this entire area resemble the Middle East. This will be achieved through "gradual sign (marquee) manipulation." I assure my readers (if there are any), it will be done honorably. I will not be purchasing additional lettering for the signs, nor would I ever contemplate snagging any letters for future use. Brace yourself. The future of the whatever block of National Road will be an uncertain one. Here's is a list of businesses and what I envision each one mirroring.
TJ's - Iraq (turmoil, despair, and wardrobe malfunctioning since they all have the lame referee outfits - eerily similar to wearing a burka in 120 degree weather)
CVS - Dubai (a beacon of prosperity)
Long John Silvers - Syria (a beacon of squalor)
Bob Evans - (I'm thinking Turkey, since they have those knife and fork sandwiches, plus they appear secular and a little detached since they're across the street)
19th Ho - Israel (the powerhouse, home to the chosen ones)
Minit Car Wash - Iran (the dangerous wildcard)
Tim Whoretons - There are no brothels in the Middle East. Prostitution is frowned upon so we'll give it to Saudi Arabia since they are are the biggest whores on the block. Plus they have the valued corner spot which epitomizes them being awash with oil. I was going to turn Long John Silver's into Saudi Arabia because of the oil factor, but after further contemplation, I think they use some kind of flavorful lard.
I think you get the picture. But why? Why would anyone want to stir up this hornets nest on National Road? Because it's my obligation. The right wing nutjobs of Ohio County are still in love with ex-President George Bush. They still continue to fully embrace him at every opportunity yet never comprehend the consequences of his actions, or his inactions. This will be an attempt, albeit a crude one, to explain the neo-con agenda in simple terms they can better understand. Sometimes you have to spell these things out for the churchgoing, torture loving, uterus interfering, gun-toting, gay bashing, Cheney sucking fucks. Amen.
On an unrelated note, Go Pens.
TJ's - Iraq (turmoil, despair, and wardrobe malfunctioning since they all have the lame referee outfits - eerily similar to wearing a burka in 120 degree weather)
CVS - Dubai (a beacon of prosperity)
Long John Silvers - Syria (a beacon of squalor)
Bob Evans - (I'm thinking Turkey, since they have those knife and fork sandwiches, plus they appear secular and a little detached since they're across the street)
19th Ho - Israel (the powerhouse, home to the chosen ones)
Minit Car Wash - Iran (the dangerous wildcard)
Tim Whoretons - There are no brothels in the Middle East. Prostitution is frowned upon so we'll give it to Saudi Arabia since they are are the biggest whores on the block. Plus they have the valued corner spot which epitomizes them being awash with oil. I was going to turn Long John Silver's into Saudi Arabia because of the oil factor, but after further contemplation, I think they use some kind of flavorful lard.
I think you get the picture. But why? Why would anyone want to stir up this hornets nest on National Road? Because it's my obligation. The right wing nutjobs of Ohio County are still in love with ex-President George Bush. They still continue to fully embrace him at every opportunity yet never comprehend the consequences of his actions, or his inactions. This will be an attempt, albeit a crude one, to explain the neo-con agenda in simple terms they can better understand. Sometimes you have to spell these things out for the churchgoing, torture loving, uterus interfering, gun-toting, gay bashing, Cheney sucking fucks. Amen.
On an unrelated note, Go Pens.
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