Dedicated to all that is SAF

There are countless organizations and acronyms called SAF.

The London based company SAF, or Safeland PLC, trades at roughly 8 bucks per share.  It used to be about $100/share 5 years ago.  Much like the human being SAF, the company appears to be on a downward trend.  Safeland deals with property management and industrial refurbishing.  The human SAF has difficulty coping with household water pressure issues.

However, my favorite company is the American SAF (Southern Aluminum Finishing) a metal fabrication company based out of Atlanta, GA.  A couple years ago I emailed the president of the company and asked if he could spare a t-shirt or ball cap with the word SAF on it.  His response, "No problem dude.  I'm on it."  Two days later a padded mailer was in my mailbox.  I quickly tore it open like a child spilling out Halloween candy on the living room floor.  Inside was this...

This famous SAF ball cap has easily surpassed all my other favorites, including such notables as Coors Light, M Life, Ross Police, WVU and Gordon River, Strahan. 

SAF also stands for Society of American Florists.  Regrettably, I can't tell the difference between a pansy or a posie, a rose or a daffodil.  Fortunately, Gig knows a thing or two about the floral industry.  She was kind enough to furnish me with this legendary piece of cardboard which I cherish quite regularly.

Now if that doesn't have you brimming with excitement... how about these assorted HER-SAF products from the mysterious company known as Safranek Enterprises.  Once again, compliments of Gig.

This miniature tablet is the modern day equivalent of the Dead Sea Scrolls.  It holds so much important documentation.  Truth be told, the contents are blank.  I think it seems well-suited for future scrabbling endeavors.

And I once got this letter from SAF.  It's like Saf offering thanks and heaping gratitude upon itself.  Almost as if Saf is an omniscient figure (kind of like the God-Jesus thing that seems wildly popular). This SAF is better known as Student Action with Farmworkers.  But alas, I am not a farmer.  My attempts to grow vegetables have been, for the most part, a meager failure.

 
It's really wonderful to see the corporate Saf's, non-profit Saf's, and human Saf's all getting along in relative peace and harmony.  Much like the racial tolerance illustrated by the "black and white" cookie in a weak, early Seinfeld episode.  "Look to the cookie, Elaine.  Look to the cookie."

Alright, so here's my point.  In honor of Veteran's Day, a mass email from a division of the American Red Cross was sent.  Jepsonian forwarded it to me.  I think it was sent to all those who've recently given blood.  It was from SAF (Service to the Armed Forces).   It lists the top 5 things you can do to support SAF.

In keeping with that spirit, here are the top 5 things you can do to support SAF, the individual.

5) Save me all your corks.  I might have 6,000 or so, but you can never have enough.  Synthetic ones are fine.

4) If you're planning on having a baby, name the child after me.  If it's a boy, "Saf" or "Saffy" is acceptable.  If it's a girl, I think "Safaleena" has a nice ring to it.  The middle name "Chlamydia" would be a fine addition.

3) If you know any of the local Krishnas or have a modicum of influence over the cult-oriented Palace of Gold, start dropping my name.  "Oh, Eric Saferstein thinks you Hindus are the bomb-diggity" or "Eric's a devout vegan.  I heard he recently swore off swine and won't partake of any animal that has a cloven hoof."  This is more of a long-term project.  I'm trying to get my foot in the door (or sanctuary) and become the next Swami Bhaktipadastein.  I'd be willing to offer up a fractional percentage of the Chesapeake Energy/Marcellus Shale proceeds.  I've always dreamed of having my very own cult.

2) If you're stopping up, bring a rake or one of those leaf blowing contraptions.  Do you have any idea how many leaves have fallen?  We can rake them over the hill or onto Fuckface's property.  Bring a chainsaw as well. 

1) Properly honor and show respect for the new British talk show host, Jeremy Kyle.  When referencing the practice of safe sex or using condoms, take on a stilted English accent and yell, "The problem is you're not acting responsibly!  You need to wrap up your DOODLESNICKER!"

Why the demise of the Washington Redskins

I had a hunch the Washington Redskins would bite the dust this season.  They started strong at 3-1, but have quickly faltered.  Historically, I've been a fan of head coach Mike Shanahan.  As the Broncos head coach, he was the perfect blend of "players coach" and "management coach."  That would explain the multiple Superbowl runs.  But when I heard he appointed his son Kyle Shanahan as the new Redskins offensive coordinator, I just knew it was a bad idea.  Engaging in nepotism, particularly under the spotlight of the nation's capitol AND at the top of rungs of the NFL ladder, is a patently bad idea.

Any head coach who brings in their son to run the offense or defense isn't doing the team any favors.  To speculate that out of the hundreds of NFL football coordinators, coaches and assistants - the best, ultimate choice is "my son" - doesn't seem to make a whole lot of sense from a rational, percentages perspective.  Not to mention the thousands of choices from the collegiate ranks.  When things go bad, and at some point they always do, people look to point fingers.  This leads to accusations and firings.  When daddy is faced with the possibility of firing his own son, the press will have a field day.  The surrounding chaos and distractions will irreparably damage the team.  And the circus atmosphere would parallel the recent PSU (Pennsylvania Sodomizers Union) situation. 

Following Bill Cowher's departure, many Steelers fans were upset that neither Ken Whisenhunt (then offensive coordinator) nor Russ Grimm (offensive line coach) weren't chosen by Rooney.  I'll make my point again.  To just assume that the best possible head coaching option has "miraculously been right under our nose the whole time" is incredibly naive.  Fortunately, they ventured outside the division (and conference) and went with Mike Tomlin.  I likes Mikey.

This is the same reasoning that makes Jerry Jones (Dall-Ass Cowchicks owner) such a joke.  Oh my god, someone is going to poach our "wonderkind" offensive coordinator Jason Garrett.  Obviously, he's the best possible choice for the new head coach.  He's "one of us."  He's the hottest commodity.  Cowboy blood is coursing through his veins.  We must ink him asap.   I'm a little surprised that Jerry Jones never considered Rick Perry.  He'd make a fine head coach and commander-in-chief for that matter.  Uhhh, uhhh (53 second pause).... OOPS.  Well, maybe not.

It's comical how football teams with the biggest ownership egos (like Daniel Snyder, Jerry Jones) are so susceptible to this.  All that money, all that swagger... it will never stop you from screwing up the most important decisions.  Human ego - ultimately responsible for the collapse of humanity.

Quoth the Ravens

I am relatively disgusted with the Steelers loss in the Sunday night game.  I can only take some degree of solace in knowing I didn't head up.  And while I reap a little satisfaction in the fact that plenty of chump fans dished out insane amounts of cash, it's just not enough.  So yesterday, I made these diminutive protest signs to help alleviate my pain and suffering.  As always, they both employ my trademark "hidden meaning lift-up."

And yes, the correct old English term is "Quoth" not "Quote."  I particularly like the dangling "S" on the end of Ravens.  It has a certain degree of mechanical sophistication.

And of course this next one is timeless...

I'm seriously contemplating making signs for all 32 NFL teams.  This would probably serve as the underlying template for the next book.  The purpose of the signs would be 2-fold.  The first objective is to offer up a unique slogan or humorous quip designed to help a person score a free ticket.  The second goal is to mock or ridicule specific players.  Along that same line, coaches, ownership and/or the team's brand would also be targeted.  I'll need to do one division per day.  I'm going after all 32 NFL teams, with one glaring exception.  The Steelers will obviously be omitted.  It just wouldn't be right.  Too bad, considering the ample yinzer material.  If you have any strong ideas for specific teams, please shoot me an email.

I'm also considering a similar concept for all sitting U.S. Senators and Governors.  I consider it payback for all the corruption.  The timing has never been more appropriate.  With the NFL, it's more about lambasting the greed of the players and ownership.  I'll probably do a bunch for the Cowboys and Jerry Jones. 

Carolina Panthers NFL RUSH Play 60 commercial

Here's the new NFL commercial encompassing the "We've got spirit, how about you???" vibe from Fast Times at Ridgemont High.  Remember when the two cheerleaders were staging the football rally in the gymnasium.  The student body was generally unresponsive.  I recall someone launching a paper airplane that whizzed by one of the girls' heads.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MvVb8VkZUSc

Anyway, the NFL's trying to increase fan spirit with this hippy-rappy thug party.  Hey, it's all about teamwork I guess.  To be honest, I really don't have a clue what's going on with this commercial.  I can't understand anything these teenagers are singing.  It sounds like just a bunch of collective yapping with intermittent blips of the word "bus."  What the fuck is this?

And why the FUCK is Newt Gingrich the bus driver???  Seriously, check out what happens at the 21st second mark.  The spot is only 30 seconds.   Maybe he's trying to broaden his appeal.  I do not know.  Though I do think Newt would make a fine stationary hot dog salesman/concessionaire guy. 

Anyhoo, nobody cares.  That's fine.  I made a sign for the game tonight.  It's another flip-up model based on the infamous "Trent Dilfer #6, Trent Dildo 6"... 

And here it is...

Admittedly on the ghetto side, but I think my point is clear.

I'll go Steelers 20, Ravens 10.  The over/under is 42 which seems really high.  Especially since our defense is banged up.  Usually it's in the 36-38 range. 

Regardless, I've decided to skip the game tonight (insert a gasp from someone who's in a state of shock and disbelief... perhaps a hardcore Michael Jackson fan when the jury delivers a "not guilty" verdict.  I feel bad for the good doctor.  As if that walking freakshow was going to outlive Andy Rooney.

Cain's sexual harassment charge

Scattered thoughts...

I've been watching the breaking news updates regarding the charges being lobbed against Herman Cain.  Fascinating stuff.  I have two weird hunches.

A. The woman will be WHITE (this could leave a bad vibe with entrenched elements of the tea party).
B. She will be about 100 lbs. overweight (designed to further diminish his credibility).

Alright, there were 2 women who filed harassment charges.  Both cases were settled.  Why has only one of them come forward?  Seems like the goal of a smear campaign wouldn't want to focus on the he said/she said crap.  Although any particularly salacious testimony could be a nice, unintended bonus.  The main objective would be to drag everything out as long as possible.  That means one thing - OMG!  Now the other woman's coming forward!

People might think I'm completely full of shit, but it bears a striking resemblance to the Wikileaks rape allegations against Julian Assange.  When orchestrating the hatchet job, always go with drugs/alcohol or sexual accusations.  It works so much better than money.  After Bernie Madoff set a new standard and scammed 60+ billion, it's difficult to get people riled up over an amount.  The American public has little interest in numbers, they want the wicked dirt.  That's why the real disaster, the housing collapse, will never top 9/11.  People don't care about 10 trillion dollars.  They just can't grasp it.  They prefer things to be simpler and spoon fed, much like the unseasoned mush of Mehlman's Cafeteria.  Sifting through the details of the sup-prime collapse will never hold their attention span.  Even Obama doesn't want to mention... raising taxes is simply going from 32% to 36% on the top income earners.  It would make him look like he's lecturing the public.  He's still mindful of the dreaded price of arugula.  At the time, the arugula controversy was a BIG deal.  Made him look too pompous and egalitarian, something he desperately seeks to avoid.  What's comical - assuming the Republicans choose Romney, they forfeit that entire mode of attack. 
 
The only point the media seems to agree on: Cain's campaign never had a handle on the story and was woefully negligent.  I completely agree.  Cain's staffers and his lack of professionalism almost rivals Rick Perry's team.  At least, Perry's minions raised a shitload of cash.

And how about the notion that the reemergence of the scandal came from somewhere deep within the Restaurant Lobbying Association?  What's that about?  Yep, it's gonna take TIME to unravel the trail of origin.  Cain has shown a weakness for sticking to talking points.  I have a hunch he's not the kind of guy who likes to stay up late, fielding hypothetical questions and scenarios from his staffers.  This is Cain's achilles heal.  He comes off as incredibly personable, but suffers from a certain amount of hubris.  Comes with the territory I suppose.  Rick Perry has a comparable amount of hubris, but it's mostly centered around his own ineptitude, stupidity and that Dukes of N*ggerwood, backwoods spunk.    

Mark my words, this thing will DRAG.  That was the real intended consequence.  You would think someone in the press might pick up on this.  That's the question?  How long will it go on?  Well, I'll step up.  I'll set the over/under at 63 days.  Coincidentally, about the same time for the Iowa caucus vote on January 3.  I suspect you'll see something unfold like the Clarence Thomas/Anita Hill hearings.  Except it will be played out in the press.  Even better!  And you'll see these women get dragged through the mud.  Anything to smear their credibility and keep the story going.  It won't have anything to do with unresolvable answers.  The entire Cain charge is about the TIME FRAME.

Occupy: Belichick's Ass

Normally, I don't blather on and on about my free ticket/sign endeavors. With one major exception - the sign I took to the Elton John concert...

IF YOU GIVE ME A FREE TICKET, 

I'LL LET YOU SUCK MY DICK 

I'll just let that one speak for itself.  On the heels of the big game today (Steelers/Patriots), I'm taking it in a different direction.  Last night, I went out for the early portion of Halloween.  My costume didn't take much planning.  Just the regular faded jeans and long sleeve t-shirt.  For the prop, the best motto is "keep it simple, stupid."  So naturally, the sign would read... 

OCCUPY: 

YOUR MOM 

Hey, it was Halloween.  So the notion of occupying Bill Belichick's Ass was merely a small step in the evolutionary progression.  We'll see how it works.  I have grander ass-pirations for this one.  The last time I used a sign for the Titans game at Heinz Field, a man walked by.  He glanced in my direction and casually said two words - "Drink Piss."  Needless to say, my reaction was one of pure giddiness.   

Honestly, I think the Steelers are going to have some trouble in the late game.  Aside from the fact, that everyone's injured, I just don't like having to play Belichick off a bye week.  These are the type of games he wins.  Plus, he already lost that shootout on the road in Buffalo a few weeks ago.  

Here's my 4-banger wager of the week.  All 4 are upsets of course.

INDIANAPOLIS (+9.5) at Tennessee

(yeah, I know.  Indy was obliterated by the Saints last week 62-7.  But they always play Tennessee tough.  Spread seems very high.  And Tennessee is looking really erratic.  Colts gotta win at some point, even without Peyton Manning).

Cincinnati at SEATTLE (+3)

rookie qb heading into Qwest Field???  It's way too loud.  Seahwaks are tough at home.  Remember, they were a divisional playoff team last year.

San Diego at KANAS CITY (+3)

Chiefs aren't getting a lot of respect.  I think they'll step up in their prime-time Monday night game at Arrowhead.  Chargers coming off an emotional road loss to the Jets.  Norv Turner... that guy.  That's just not my kind of guy (Frank Costanza).

Detroit at DENVER (+2.5)

Everyone is jumping on the Lions bandwagon.  Let me tell you one universal truth.  The Lions have always sucked on the road.  I suspect they'll lose a close one in the altitude.

Anyhoo, take all 4 upsets.  It pays $10 to win $488.00.  I hate to say it, but if I had to place a bet on the game today, I'd take the Patriots (-3).  But I stopped betting on football years ago.  The more thrilling question...  will the sign yield a freebie?  I believe it will.  The bigger the game, the more I step up "my game."  I say two words - "Game On."  However, it's difficult to top "drink piss."

Herman Cain can win this whole thing if...

At first I laughed at the prospect of Herman Cain being the Republican nominee.  A black business man with no political experience whatsoever?  You've gotta be kidding me.  Right?

Wrong.

Could a set of circumstances arise where even someone as liberal as me would vote for a hardcore social conservative?

Yes.

Cain has a rare opportunity to position himself during a unique time in American history.  I have never seen such a variety of grassroots, populist movements.  Whether it be the teabaggers or the occupiers, there's a bigtime backlash against politics, Wall Street and business as usual.  This explains Mitt Romney's weak, frontrunner status.  Cain needs to take greater advantage of this... immediately.

First and foremost, he must say the following (preferably during a New Hampshire Republican debate)...  "All of you political pundits think of this primary as Cain vs. Romney or Cain vs. Perry.  It's NOT.  It's me versus everyone else on this stage.  It's me against "the system."  If you vote for me, you will NOT be getting a regular politician.  But wait, I can PROVE it.

All the other candidates are raising money as fast as they can.  All this does is beholden them to the corporate interests.  Well, compared to all the other Republican contenders and the billion dollar Obama warchest, I am running a different type of race.  If nominated, I'll just accept the 84 million dollars in federal matching funds.  You won't see me at these lavish Hollywood spectacles and big oil fundraisers.  I won't be the "campaigner-in-chief."  I won't be indebted to the lobbyists and the PACS.  I'll do what's right.  And I'll be the guy who's doing the job of being President.  Will any other candidate take that kind of pledge?  Of course they won't.  Because that's how it has always been done in Washington DC.  I'm looking to change that.  If you want the same old shit, vote for one of my opponents.

This has mass potential because you can eventually joke about running against Obama.  The television commercial and advertising ratio would be about 12-1.  The Obama ads will be running ad nauseum.  This makes for great poli-comedy.  Wow, you actually got to see one of Cain's ads instead of the 10-in-a-row all stroking Obama's ego, our savior-in-chief?  This makes for an excellent, condescending attack ad from Cain.   

Secondly.  Make a firm committment.  If elected president, if I can't get this economy "turned around" and "back on track,"  I won't run for another 4 year term.  You have MY WORD.  And trust me, Cain's word is pretty damn good.  Especially against Romney the flip-flopper.  It helps further differentiate him from all the others, even Obama.  And it provides for a helluva pivot into the general election.  And of course, it ain't business as usual.  The country craves something different.  They may not know exactly what, but they know the system is broken.

Thirdly, gently mock all your opponents for hiring consulting companies, pollsters, make-up artists, wardrobe assistants, etc.  With Herman Cain, what you see is what you get.  This would play incredibly well in the current anti-politico environment.  Cain appears very humble, reassuring and comfortable with himself.  Use more of this to deride all the others.  It's gold.  And it destroys Mitt.

And here's a novel idea.  Instead of pushing the 9-9-9 angle, how about this for a slogan.  NO SLOGANS.  Explain to the American public how all these slogans are worthless.  "Yes we can," "hope and change," all that other silliness...  How have all those slogans worked for you through the years?  Once again, I'm a different kind of candidate.   If you want the flashy production with the flags waving and the crowds cheering, I'm probably not the right candidate for you.  Listen, I know I love America.  I don't need to spend hundreds of millions to prove it.  This is good stuff because it rips and shreds and entire Republican field and also makes a mockery of the inevitable Obama campaign.  And Cain will never have much of a warchest, unless you count pizza discounts.  And again, your lack of cash on hand actually becomes a source of strength.

Cain's biggest asset is that he's NOT a politician.  He's a businessman.  Push all the "real world" job experience and emphasize your meager upbringing.  Even cleaning the toilets in a Burger King.  Well, maybe not that far.  It makes Romney, Newt, Perry and Obama look egalitarian and out-of-touch with regular folk.  It's not about carving up the battleground states - it's about winning the country.  It's about establishing an entirely new dynamic and winning all 50 states.  He could say, we've already passed the threshold of electing a black man president.  Now, the time has come to take it one step further and elect an outsider.  People want to hear about a jolt to the whole system.  Not tweaking all the existing problems around the edges.  Once again, this kills Romney with the bean counter approach.

Cain isn't going to raise a significant amount of money regardless.  He can use this to instantly devalue the legitimacy of the entire field and even Obama.  Listen up, I'll leave the raising of money to the RNC.  They don't need me doing these $10,000 photo ops.  Once again, stress the "work ethic" angle.  I'll be the President who's doing the job at hand.

I'm not sure Cain could pull of a win in Iowa.  The Iowa caucuses are tricky and you need to have the infrastructure in place.  All he really needs to do is just place in the top 3 which I think is plausible.  But I do think this strategy would sell in New Hampshire and black, conservative socialism is a winner in South Carolina.  By then, the momentum starts to pick up.  He already won that straw poll in Florida.

If Cain does decide to use a slogan, I strongly encourage him to go with "YOU HAVE MY WORD" - once again, it draws the major distinction between him and "all the others."  And it eliminates the monetary aspect.  Both critical components for a Cain victory.  Cain has a very trustworthy, convincing delivery.  I may not like his specifics, but I don't feel like he's doing anything to deceive me. 

One last thought, I would normally never consider voting for a social extremist like Cain over Obama... unless, I had ample reason to believe he was actually going to change the "way of things."  If Cain can convince the American people it's possible, or at the very least, he'll give it his honest, best shot, I think he can win this whole thing.  But he needs to take my advice.  And do it quickly.

The irony of all this.  The platform is so unconventional but really obvious.  I wonder if Herman Cain has thought of it.  I doubt any campaign staffer or political consultant would suggest it.  It runs in direct contrast to the entire presidential election business model.  One last word of advice for Cain - if you win the Republican nomination, pick Mitt Romney for Veep.  Mitt's the shit!  Other than Al Gore, if there was ever a human being genetically designed to be the vice-president... it's Mitt.  I don't like him, but he'd probably tear up Biden in the debates.

One more thing.  Tone down any religious nonsense and issue an immediate apology regarding the statement that "no Muslim would serve in a Cain cabinet."  And for the embryonic love of humanity, try to soften or at least scale back the extremist pro-life agenda, especially in cases of rape, incest and life of the mother.  It alienates mainstream voters.  Don't flip-flop on your principled stand.  It's okay to be a right wing fanatic, just make sure voters know it won't be the sole focus of your administration to overturn Roe vs. Wade.  Most voters don't mind if YOU are pro-life.  They just don't want to see the country turned upside down over abortion. 

And one more thought - it's okay to stand down a little from the 9-9-9 bit.  Just say that it's "the direction" you wish to see the country heading toward.  You don't want to appear too unflinching on specific economic issues.  On anything race-related, Cain's doing a great job.  Just stick with "race doesn't matter" - I judge people on their merits.  This plays well with Repub primary voters.

Anyway, that's how Herman Cain can become our next president.  Oh yeah, and try to get a credible anti-war Democratic candidate to the left of Obama to enter the race.  Maybe use that million in the bank to start a draft Dennis Kucinich or Bernie Sanders movement.  It might help shave a couple points off Obama.  But honestly, if Cain wants to win (I believe he does), you've got to alter the whole playing field and the established nominating methodology.  As I said, Herman Cain can win this whole thing if... he takes my advice.

Foundation for a Better Life (if you're an idiot)

Alright, where to begin?  They run this imbecilic commercial all the time.

http://www.schooltube.com/video/9af9c1d6a383171d6e2b/Sportsmanship-Basketball-Commercial-Foundation-for-a-Better-Life-Valuescom

For those who don't know, it's part of a Mitt Romney "Mormon normalization campaign" that has been going on since McCain disposed of him in the 2008 Republican primary.  They bought a shitload of advertising time on every cable channel known to man.  Probably a wise move. 

Remember the slew of "I'm your neighbor, I'm your teacher, I'm your doctor... and I'm a Mormon" commercials.  Yep.  Whatever happened to them?  Well, the Mormons didn't miraculously just go away.  They never left us.  They just morphed into the Foundation for a Better Life.  This segue way was some pretty strong marketing.  I'll give Romney's team credit for this one.  He assembled a professional campaign team.  For this reason alone, he deserves the nomination.  All the Rick Perry team can come up with is "he ain't a Christian, he's part of a cult."  Herman Cain likes black, walnut Haagendaz.  And all Bachmann can offer is that entranced, glazed look.  Similar to the look from Calissa, Newt's bedazzled wife.  But I digress.  It's so easy to get lost in the Republican field.

The Foundation for a Better Life has a few absurd commercials.  Most will remember the hoodlum, skater teenager who "steals" a woman's purse at the bus stop.  As he's diligently tailed by police (who don't even bother to get out of the car and try to chase the kid down), he valiantly jumps over puddles and sidesteps dog shit.  Out of breath from the 20 second dash, he finally reaches his intended target - the public bus.  Somehow, miraculously, the woman (who just happens to be black) conveniently has gotten off at the next stop.  Wouldn't the woman have yelled, "Please!  Stop the bus!  I forgot my purse!"  Instead she is greeted by the emo-punk who hands over the purse.  She flippantly says, "Thank you so much."  She never seemed even the least bit frantic.  A far cry from the behavior I've seen when a woman loses her purse.  And why didn't she offer him a reward?  She could have at least given the kid a few bucks or an Eat'n'Park gift certificate or something.  No gratitude whatsoever.  She could have at least given him a Tony & Cleo's drink chip.

And then the douchebag cops, who had suspected sinister behavior, offer the kid a doughnut.  What the hell is that?  Talk about weak stereotyping.  He should have "Fire in the Holed" the cop car with the glazed doughnut.  I know a man who once spotted a police car out in California.  While the cops were inside the convenience store, they had left cruiser running with the driver's side window just barely cracked.  My acquaintance took a bat hit off his one-hitter and exhaled the pot smoke into the policeman's car.  He then backed off and observed from a safe distance.  When the cops came back, they opened the door and WHOOSH - they got consumed by the marijuana smoke.  They were completely flabbergasted - they obviously thought someone had been puffing a doobie in their cruiser.  Not much they could do, other than feel helpless.  My friend grinned at them from a distance.

But it's the Foundation for a Better Life basketball commercial that angers me to no end.  During a timeout, this kid explains to the coach that he deflected the ball out of bounds.  Another team member with bad acne is irate, "Dude, it's the championship game!"  Another kid (of the same race) purposely bumps him when they leave the huddle.  But the coach proudly applauds this display of honesty and good sportsmanship.  Values, man.

What the fuck???  I'm not sure who's more mentally challenged, the kid or the coach.  Honestly, this must be the dumbest coach of all-time.  How the fuck did he make it to the championship?  Better yet, how did he get the coaching job in the first place?  Does he really think the ref is going to reverse his decision???  It doesn't work like that.  The ref's call is FINAL.  And the kid's not the sharpest peg either.  Going over to the ref, "I touched it ref.  It's their ball."  Who the hell would do this?  Decisions in basketball are final.  There aren't any do-overs.  It's not the NFL.  Meanwhile the music in the background trails off, "do it right." 

Notice the amount of minorities in these commercials.  What percentage of Mormons are black or hispanic anyway?  About the same number of Amish that classify themselves as Nazis.  

And what about the commercial where little "Timmy" is found missing at the symphony.  His parents don't seem particularly alarmed.  They exhibited the same amount of concern for their child as the woman did for her purse... not much.  Fortunately, Timmy and the concert pianist regale the crowd with a powerful rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.  I'll admit, it did deserve a standing ovation.  Even I almost shed a tear... until I remembered it was the Romney campaign.

how to destroy the Mitt Romney campaign

I couldn't help but notice the comments from Robert Jeffress, a Dallas, Texas mega-church Baptist pastor (what a great title) who introduced Rick Perry at some kind of Values Voters summit.  He basically said that "real" Christians shouldn't vote for Romney because Mormons, and the Church of Latter Day Saints, are a cult.  Thank god we have an intellectual authority who can make these critical distinctions about what constitutes a religious cult.  This way, nonbelievers like myself, can make better, more informed decisions.

Obviously, this crap sells for mainstream news these days.  I suspect that Perry's handlers needed something to deflect from the N*ggerhead scandal which I must say was absolutely devastating.  So they fought back with the most obvious choice (anti-Christian silliness) designed to appeal to low-brow Republican primary voters in Iowa and South Carolina.  Will it help Perry?  Probably.  But seriously, how fucking uninspired and lacking in creativity.  

Anyhoo, I thought of a killer way to destroy the Romney campaign.  Here's what you do.  You secretly organize and mobilize a team of about 40 racially mixed individuals.  Complete ethnic diversity across the board should be your focus.  You assemble them in Iowa on a plush Anderson tour bus.   You then have this group "popping up" at every Mitt Romney campaign stop throughout Iowa.  Then you get some video footage of this group from a bunch of different cities (Davenport, Sioux City, Iowa City, etc.).  Then you go for the kill.  You release the you-tube like excerpts to Fox News.  Ka-Splat!  That's the sound of Mitt going to shit.  Literally and figuratively.

Fox announcers would go off.  Who are these people?  Why are they at EVERY Mitt Romney campaign stop.  For the love of Christ (the latter day Saint one), Romney's campaign is literally "busing" people in.  These people are plants because Romney can't draw a crowd.  So he's doing what he does best - he's hiring actors to feign support.  This would be a vicious deathblow.  Even if you manage to expose it as a stunt, the damage is still done.  Any attention to this matter is still negative press because it makes Romney look like a sinister phony.  Especially in this current "hostile to mainstream politician" climate.

Just make sure the group really stands out.  So it looks very non-Iowan.  The more over-the-top, the better.  Definitely a yarmulke and a turban, a few Asians and blacks.  Hell, maybe even throw in a disaffected Amish.  They're in the news these days with the beard-cutting revenge plots.  You could even assemble some "secretly filmed" footage from a rest stop.  Maybe have them all doing stretching exercises.  After all, they've spent so much time on the bus, they're really sore.  That would be comical.  They're all in a straight line touching their toes or doing jumping jacks.   It would be the lasting image - one of those iconic political recollections.  Just like Gary Hart with the Monkey Business boat.  Or Michael Dukakis wearing that helmet, riding around in an army tank.

Far be it from me to help Rick Perry though.  Rick makes me... sick.  I just like the idea of utter chaos in the Republican primary.  Seriously, wouldn't it be cool to see their nominating process go all the way to the actual convention.  The Republican presidential primary has always been more of a coronation of sorts.  It would be very cool to see the lunatic right-wing fringe elements get down and dirty.  They would all be looking for innovative ways to out-right each other.  And that's just not right. 

What if Obama bows out in 2012?

I was watching Dick Morris on the O' Reilly hour last night.  While I don't get much in the way of news or insight from Bill, I am a big fan of Dick.  This might sound homo-erotic, but trust me, it's just a coincidence.  Dick Morris is usually spot-on with his political predictions.   I think having been on both sides of the political aisle played a critical role.  The guy just knows D.C. and how it works.  And just as important, he knows the media.  Fuck that, he IS the media.

Morris said he thought there was a possibility that Obama wouldn't run in 2012.  I never even fathomed of this possibility....until now.  If he were to bow out of the race, he could focus the rest of his term on jobs and his liberal agenda.  Plus, it would be the most magnanimous, selfless gesture in the history of politics, the United States and basically mankind.  Think about it - a black man handing over the reigns of power to a white woman (obviously Hillary would slide right in even though she'd have to go through the primary).  Such a move would transcend the political process itself, especially with all the current partisan sniping which has irreparably damaged Congress. Whether you like Obama or not, everyone would have to admit that he was willing to sacrifice his personal glory for a greater moment in humanity.  Brilliant!  It would be the ultimate gesture, unmatched in the annals of politics.  

Plus, he could use the final year of his presidency to further push his agenda (health care, jobs, civil rights, etc.).  The Republicans are trying to own the jobs issue.  And rightly so.  As the economy continues to decline, jobs will always be a core issue for the foreseeable future.    Whether or not you think "socialized" health care is a good idea, everyone must admit that it was a milestone achievement to ram Obamacare through congress.  His people knew it would eventually be challenged in the courts, as it should considering it's landmark legislation.  But he could focus on getting things done, or more likely, marginalizing the Republicans to look like worthless obstructionists.  He wouldn't purposely do this, but it would be the end result.  Considering all the "class warfare" rhetoric, it would bring some much needed "balance" to the political debate.  Obama seems like he's heading in this direction with his recent populist approach.  Reminds me of the angry "we can do better" Al Gore campaign of 2000.  But with Obama it's different.  He could make all this work.  

And I get the sense he's had enough of the Washington bullshit.  Just maybe he would seek a return to normalcy.  And don't dismiss his desire to avoid assassination on the end of some fanatic's bullet.  I can't even fathom how many death threats he gets from the Secret Service.  I think Obama knows he could do far more good if he assumed a Bill Clinton type post-presidency role.  If Obama were to be reelected president for 4 more years (2012-16), it's likely he won't be able to get anything meaningful done.  The atmosphere is way too toxic.  He knows this.   Hell, the guy's smarter than Rick Perry.  Best to let Hillary (more detail-oriented) deal with the complexities of health care, the economy and trying to wind down the wars in Afghanistan, Iraq and elsewhere.  She would relish the opportunity.  And he could still use the power and backing of the presidency and Air Force One to campaign for her.  As Perry, Bachmann, Gingrich, dark pizza-man, assorted Mormonathons and the other Santora-morons bicker, squabble and seek division... the Democrats look like they're "above all that pettiness."  A great tactical move setting the stage for future elections.

But the most important aspect, he'll have "gone out on top."  Learn the lessons of Seinfeld - don't overstay your welcome.  Obama would always have claim to this status as "the only president to have stepped aside for the good of the country."  Of course, the Republicans/Fox News will spin it as "he's a quitter" or just wasn't "wasn't up to the task" or "just couldn't take the heat."  But most would see right through that line of reasoning.  And he could always say he wants to spend more time with his family - that always works.  He'd make a ton more money if he wrote a book about it.  Hell, doesn't the presidency only pay 400K per year + perks?  And for the love of God, what about the lecture circuit?  Don't forget the Harvard law review angle.  Major cash.

I think Dick Morris might really be onto something.  That leaves us with Hillary vs. Mitt - an epic political brawl for 2012.  And Obama would finally achieve this "mythical" Christ-like status which actually does suit him.  It's like Obama committed political crucifixion (voluntarily stepping down for the betterment of the nation, despite his aspirations of maintaining power).  Obama "died for the sins of Congress."  It would be an interesting lesson for the world to see,  especially from the universal perspective of democracy vs. tyranny.  Think about it.  This is how a democracy CAN function.  Obama is the modern day equivalent of Jesus.  He'd have to grow the hair out though.  Some kind of 1970's NBA Christ-fro.  Not kewl.

Since I mentioned Rick Perry, I might as well come clean.  There's a $2,500 a plate private fundraiser tonight at the White Palace tonight.  I'm going to make a sign that has a "Pic of Rick" on it and says...

THIS $SS MAKES 

MY SIGN LOOK BIG

I'll go with the dollar sign instead of an "A."  It actually makes a grander statement and I don't wish to violate the rigorous community standards of Wheeling.  I wonder what will become of me.  I'll walk over there (no car).  I'll get Gig to bring her camera.  I'll dress nice but won't be carrying any identification.  The last time I checked, you don't need to carry your id while walking in public. 

I love the idea of everyone sitting in the White Palace talking about that guy with the sign.  Not a good "rate of return on your dinner investment."  Hey, it's his own fault.  The Texan belt-buckled asshole shouldn't have come to a public community park.  Should have had it at Ernie's Esquire.  Tough call.  The food sucks at both venues.  Although I imagine they'll bring in an outside caterer.  Maybe he could do a Texas themed "burgers and dogs" like George Bush used to do.  Yee-haw.

Alright, this shindig is set for 5pm.  I just jogged over there and outside the lower ballroom it said

Private Party 

Closed at 5pm

A. It's their own fault.  Should have had this nonsense on private property.  Maybe somewhere deep on the Nutting compound.

B. Should have had a Texas themed lunch instead.  Plenty of baked beans and neo-con slaw.  Perhaps Rick Perry is a natural extension of my contempt for Texas Roadhouse-type restaurants.  I do like Outback though, but they're pseudo-Australian.  

weekend continuation / Fuckface's blueprints

I originally intended for this blog entry to revolve around my Saturday football adventures with Gigithon. But something of greater magnitude took place this Sunday morning.  So I'll briefly recant yesterdays' adventures.

We made our way down to Heinz Field for the Pitt (lame) vs. Notre Dame (gay) game around 10am.  It was an early noontime kickoff.  Snagged our usual spot in the crack district and walked down.  We hooked up with her friends for some high-end breakfast tailgating (filet mignon, various potato casseroles, etc.).  I briefly scribbled a sign that said...

"I HATE BOTH TEAMS BUT...
I STILL WANT A FREE TICKET"

I left the sign behind - probably a wise decision.  Since I was wearing a Mountaineer shirt, I anticipated a substantial uptick in negativity.  "You're at the wrong game, asshole."  "2007, dickhead."  "See this neckbrace?  I got it from bashing in the heads of WVU fans."  And of course the traditional "You suck" comments.  Most people would not welcome this kind of crass negativity, but I actually enjoy it.  It keeps you alert.  And you can channel all that hatred into scoring free tickets.  Think of it as green energy.  Like harnessing the power of the sun through solar panels, or taking advantage of the wind with a windmill, or using oil... for your Exxon ass.

Once again, Gig stepped up her game in the ticket acquisition department.  I acted as more of lightning rod... kind of like a Bounty paper towel absorber of putrid disgust.  I'd get their attention and she seemed to lighten the hostility.  It worked pretty well.  First we snagged 2 free singles.  Then, we snagged 3 pairs of tickets.  We sold each pair for $20, $20 and $19.  Not bad - another $59 into the coffers.  Plus, Gig scored roughly a dollar of loose change on the ground.  She found it on the ground.

We hung out til about midway through the 3rd period and bolted for Mo-Town for the real game.  We got there around 4pm and hooked up with Slosh and GMax.  Another strong display of sporting nourishment, this time compliments of GMax - pulled pork sandwiches with coleslaw.  The coleslaw was bursting with country fresh flavor (Seinfeld).  And he also proffered a bag of Grandma Shearer's unflavored kettle chips which were relatively satisfying.  This bag of neutral-tasting chips seemed to provide a nice balance due to the crunch factor.

We looked for tickets, but to no avail.  Most singles were going for about $100 and there were a ton of people with their fingers up.  It almost seemed like a Dead show at Mountaineer Field.  A high energy level without the overwhelming stench of patchouli oil.  We weren't having much luck, but then suddenly, Gig spotted an unused ticket on the ground.  Bam!  It was a Mountaineer Miracle!  We continued our quest for the other freebie but there was just too much competition.  I'd never encountered this amount of demand for a WVU game.  Plus, we aren't willing to pay for shit - that didn't help our cause.  So we sold the groundscore ticket for $50 (mostly as a favor to an engaging older gentleman).  Then we bolted for Wheeling.  Stopped for pizza from DiCarlo's (6 ends with extra cheese - we each devoured 3) and miraculously made it back home during the early stages of the 3rd period.  Plenty of time to thoroughly scrutinize their gradual demise.  However, let it be historically noted that the crowd energy in the third, just before the heartbreak LSU touchdown kickoff run-back was completely bad ass.  Sick.  Should have torched the stadium (instead of the couches).  They should make an athletic director Oliver Luck human size blow up doll and tie it to a couch.  Maybe give it some kind of sadomasochistic theme w/ the dripping candle wax bit.  The shit loses containment and everything goes up in hot flames.

So all in all, we almost achieved the stunning "3 Fo Free," but came up just empty.  That's okay though.  As a wise high school administrator with very unusual sexual proclivities once told me, "You can't have your cake and eat it too."  Still though...  $70 + $59 + about a buck in change + $50 minus gas and $20 for parking and another $20 for cheap beer (MBL) and a bag of ice.   We done good  (+ $140).

But this blog was supposed to be about a Fuckface revelation.  On a day that will live in infamy... Well, it really wasn't that infamous.  Truth be told, it was a day of utter jubilation.  Anyway, about a year ago, I saw it.  The listing.  House of Fuckface - FOR SALE.  I immediately zipped down Ridgewood to the people who feed me, clothe me, bathe me.  "You're never going to believe this!" as I slammed my keys on their living room floor.  "He's selling the house!  Fuckface? Fuckface? FUCKFACE !!!"  (short pause)  For the love of god, this is really happening!"  They were fascinated by my outburst but seemed pensive and cautious.  They didn't seem to share in my golden ticket neighborly American Idol moment.  Or maybe, just maybe, they knew the real truth.  That his exit from my life would be a longer process.  And as (Oliver) luck would have it, they were right.

So yeah, all that happened about a year ago.  Well, today I jogged down to the coffee shop.  I stop in to get a napkin to blow my nose.  Then, I check the Sunday paper.  I've been dutifully checking the real estate listings for the past year.  Finally... today was the big day.  Ka-Pow! He substantially dropped his asking price.  I'll refrain from the real numbers but I will say he knocked off 14% (fitty) from the asking price. A promising moment for said Fuckface... bringing himself into the world of real human beings.  Just one rare chance for the briefest acknowledgment that others exist on the planet earth.  After all, the theory that Fuckface's house is the "center of the universe" was disproved back in the days of the Salem witch hunts.  And he bought the place in 1998.

Proceed cautiously to this morning.  I have a bunch of the blueprints for my house.  I've always thought it might be cool to tack them up on the walls.  After all, they're a very accurate source of architectural information and the prints look pretty damn sharp.  This would be Gig and I's home decor project for the morning.  Well, we begin to assess 'what goes where' and all that jazz.  For the love of God (aka Fuckface), the blueprints are for HIS house.  Not mine.  We never noticed this.

So despite his desire to depart, and as a lasting tribute, Gig and I hung all the prints up in the staircase area.  It looks way better than these shots.  You have to see it to believe it.  Or in the worst absolute case scenario, you have to acknowledge the existence of Fuckface.  Fuckface and I  live together on this spiraling planet.  We are linked in close proximity as we aimlessly hurdle through the universe.  How quaint.  This art project signifies all that is Fuckface.  And I will call it "sonofFucked."  Not to be confused with the sonofsucked compilation cd.

Part 1 - Foo Fo Free

It's 9am. Saturday morning in the burgh n'at.  We went to the Foo Fighters show last night.  We parked at our favorite spot on the cusp of the hood.  St. Benedict of the Moors church parking lot.  Although I prefer to call it the Moops Lot (in honor of Costanza vs. Bubble Boy).  Gig and I walked down with the most basic of signs - "I Want A Free Ticket."

We encountered my friends Mark and Michelle who ended up going to the Souperbowl bar for a drink.  Things were on the slow side.  Then Gig scored a ticket and did a 2 for1 deal with this guy who had print-outs in the 200 section.  Boom.  As expected, Foo Fo Free.  But the quest would not stop.  This guy walked past and handed her 2 floor tickets.  VFC - Very Fuckin' Cool.  Now we were on the general admission floor for free.  This is properly addressed as  Floor Fo Fee in Pixburgh ebonics (regardless of the non-cost).  And we got still yet another seat in the 100 level form some other guy.  Now we have 3 extra tickets.

So Gig is yapping about having an extra ticket in 105 and some dude comes out of nowhere.  "Ohh, that's the section I want to be in.  The best I've found is 107."  I look at him and say, "Well, I'll sell you this one below cost for $30."  He counters with, "Oh, that's okay.  Here's $50.  I insist.  You guys are the greatest."  Well, that remains to be seen.  So I ended up selling the other 2 200 level print-outs for $20 to some scalper dude (weak).  Either way, we're now officially +$70 and haven't done shit.  Gig did ALL the work.  Kudos.

So we went in about 8:30 and hooked up with her friends for a bit.  The lights go out and we walk down to the floor.  But back in the concession area is a Mother Fucking Dome Hockey table.  We plug it in and I commence with a flurry of shots upon Gig.  Laser, Bethlehem Temple... followed by a Lotion in the Basket.  Then a possibly "slow" employee yells at us, "Hey, only the hockey wives are allowed to play this game."  With the score I think 4-1, he unplugs it.  Just as I was getting an accurate measure of the ice surface.

So we went back onto the floor - a 2 hour+ cacophony of screams and guitars.  This show seemed like more of a blur to me.  All the standard hits.  This is the 3rd time I've seen the Foo Fighters (Peterson in late 2000's and IC Light Ampitheater in 2003) - other than Pearl Jam, these are the 2 sick, live bands on the arena circuit.  I can't think of any others that come close.

When the house lights came on, we went on our usual scavenge for extra "scrapbooking tickets" - which actually means downstairs bathroom wallpaper.  One of the tech roadies tossed a drumstick into the crowd which grazed my middle finger.  I almost had it.  All my previous foosball catching experience didn't help seem to help.  

Walking back to the car, we saw a large black man in the early stages of being arrested by 2 plain clothes officers.  He was removed from a maroon Town and Country minivan which was blocking the main drag.  He had a monster duffel bag so I'm assuming he got busted for selling t-shirts.  We watched for a bit from across the street. 3 more cops show up with flashing lights.  Sitting on the ground, he was pretty adamant.  "I know my rights!  I didn't do nothing!"  I thought his treatment seemed a little excessive for a rogue t-shirt salesman.  Gig asked the cop what he did and the cop replied, "He pulled a gun."  This made everyone's behavior a tad more reasonable.  And it also served as a nice backdrop for parking with the Moops.

So now it's onward to 2 nationally televised football games in 12 hours - a feat which is difficult to replicate under any circumstance.  What's even crazier.  The participants in the first game (Notre Dame and Pitt) are my two most reviled teams.  I will actually cheer for Pitt... assuming we make it in.  Either way, I will be eating breakfast at a tailgate in Gold Lot 1 in about an hour and a half.  I think my sign will say...

"I HATE BOTH TEAMS
but I want a free ticket."

Is "hate" strong enough?  Perhaps loathe, detest or despise.  I have an hour to think about it.

Food Fighters / ND at Pitt / LSU at WVU

In a couple of hours, Gig and I will venture into uncharted territory.  We will attempt to go to 3 prominent concert/sporting events in less than a 24 hour period.  But our journey will be an unusual one because we'll try to hit all three at no cost.  I'm labeling this a "Three for Free" or "3 FO NO."

Foo Fighters is in a few hours at Consol.  So we're heading down to the arena staging area after an all-new Murray paternity testing episode (I checked and sure enough, it's a baby momma, baby daddy show).  Technically speaking, you could include this daytime drama and our project would be called a "Fo... Fo Sho."

Then, tomorrow it will be back to back nationally televised college football games.  I can't fathom the prospect of seeing 2 in one day.  Logistically, it's just not something that is ever possible.  BUT, and it is indeed a mammoth Butt (comparable to the buttocks of a morbidly obese baby on Maury), the Pitt game is at noon and the WVU game is at 8pm.  Just enough time to git it.

There's still tix avaliable for the Food Fighters, WVU is completely sold-out and the last time Pitt played Notre Dame it was a sell-out.  But it's all irrelevant anyway because we refuse to pay for shit.  I'll report back the results after the weekend has come to a close.  I'm interested to see how we fare.

Backyard Brawl script for Gangs of New York

I think it's safe to say that Martin Scorsese is the best movie director of my lifetime.  I can't see anyone who comes close.  I watched the opening battle scene from Gangs of New York last night.  It's fascinating because of the initial LACK of blood and gore.  Then, of course, the brutality picks up.  But the techno-intro music is completely bad ass.  I think Daniel Day Lewis literally blows the roof off this movie in his role as Bill Cutting, the native gang leader of the Five Points. 


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ly2yKcOJC7Y


But here's my idea...

Someone should really set up a skit outside Heinz Field and/or Mountaineer Field for the annual backyard brawl.  It would closely mimic the opening battle scene of Gangs of New York. You could do it at either venue.  But Heinz Field is superior because you could stand up on the benches outside Gate A as the crowd is pouring in.   Everyone would be forced to watch.  At Milan Puskar, I guess you could use the top of the hillside near the student entrance.  Same general premise.

I think Bill Cutting would better be portrayed as the Mountaineer fan and Priest Vallon should assume the role of the Pitt Panther fan.  Obviously the priest ends up getting killed - so this logically works on a couple different levels. 

A. - The Panthers usually take a beating.
B. - And in my fringe world, I prefer the thug gangster disposing of the religious leader.  

Here's the original script...

Bill: At my challenge, by the ancient laws of combat, we are met at this chosen ground, to settle for good and all who holds sway over the five points: us natives, born rightwise to this fine land, or the foreign hordes defiling it.

Crowd: YEAH! (Everyone clutches their weapons)

Priest Vallon: By the ancient laws of combat, I accept the challenge of the so called "natives." They plague our people at every turn, but from this day out, they shall plague us no more. For let it be known, that the hand that tries to strike us from this land shall be swiftly cut down.

Crowd: YEAH! (Everyone clutches their weapons)

Bill: Then may the Christian lord guide my hand against your Roman potpourri.

Priest Vallon: Prepare to receive the true lord.

So here's my adapted version.  If you accurately portray the inflection and hostility, this would kick ass.  And the timing, about a decade later since the release of the movie, is spot on.




Mountaineer fan: At my challenge, by the ancient laws of football, we are met at Heinz Field, to settle for good and all, who holds sway over the Backyard Brawl, us hillbillies, born an hour down the road, or the Pixburgh yinzers defiling it.

Crowd: YEAH! (all WVU fans hoist beers in the air)

Panther fan: By the ancient laws of football, I accept the challenge of the so called "hillbillies."  They plague our team on every play, but from this day out, they shall plague us no more.  For let it be known, that your quarterback who tries to throw for a touchdown shall be sacked to the ground.

Crowd: YEAH! (all Panther fans hoist beers in the air).

Mountaineer fan: Then may the football gods guide our team against your Pittsburgh Primanti

Panther fan: Prepare to receive the true moonshine.

Note: You could pull off the same stunt for the Steelers/Ravens game.  A similar script busting on crab cakes and the "yuppie" Baltimore fans.  It would be a phenomenal clip for NFL game day material.

Millvale Community Days

Gig and I zipped down to the Millvale, PA street fair last night around 7 p.m.  Festivities were in the early stages but things seemed promising.  We had already eaten some pasta, salad, garlic bread - so food was not an issue.  It would be all about the people.  They began teeming into the streets like it was a miniscule version of the Macy's Day Parade. 

Our first encounter was with an aggressive salesman.  He had a set-up on the corner which I'd refer to as the "Dollar Store That Time Forgot."  Rows of Preparation H, a jar filled with ear plugs, cases of this off brand Atomic Blaster Super Power Energy Drink, Velamints and other assorted candy products manufactured in 1975.  But what caught my eye was the stash of home pregnancy tests.  I can say without a shadow of doubt, that at some point in the evening, some moment of destiny, a young couple would walk up to this guy and purchase one of these kits.  The stars would surely align later that night, and in less than a year, a forthcoming member of the Millvale community would be amongst us.

Our encounter with Dollar Store Man was too brief.  He charged at us (in his mind he was thinking two words - fresh meat).  He had two monster sized granola bars.  He forcefully stammered at us, "Hey, we're trying to start a foothold here in the community.  Would you like a meal replenishment bar?"  He thrust these 2 mammoth rectangular blocks of nourishment into our hands.  Normally, I'd want to at least open the wrapper and sample the cuisine.  But he made us feel obliged to purchase something.  Having already seen his assortment of merchandise, I politely declined the meal of sustenance.  In retrospect, this is what I'd eventually refer to as the "Millvale Mistake."  Although, I wasn't well-suited to hang with Dollar Store Man, I could have, at the very least, admired his commanding solicitation presence from afar.  No doubt it would have enhanced my journey.

We walked to the end of the street fair and Gig saw a friend of hers who had opened a library.  A large ceramic statue of a schnauzer with a pile of books on its head was out in front of the book depository.  They were having a "name the dog statue" contest.  Gig suggested "Millie" which I found slightly better than my choice "Periodogical" or "Peridogical."  To be honest, I hope they choose neither.  I'm very open to ideas on this one - hopefully "SteelDog" or "MillDog"doesn't win it.  I imagine that would command multiple entries.

We kept moving back into the crowd and I saw the guys who own Mr. Small's Theater.  They were promoting some upcoming gigs.  For those unfamiliar with Mr. Smalls, it's an old church that has been transformed into a music venue for heavy metal and hippie shows.  I personally do NOT like this place.  I appreciate the efforts they've taken and its distinctive setting, but I think the sound is abysmal (too boomy) and the restrooms are basically disgusting and nonexistent.  But I've been there about 10 times or so and I've usually had a good time.

I commented earlier about how we had chosen to dine in.  Kind of uninspired, but I'm generally not too fond of county fair/street vendor food.  Sometimes it's best to play it safe with listeria, Mad Cow disease, and other bochellistic concerns.  Some of the carnies failed to exude an air of cleanliness.  Some of the food particles were intertwined in their Brett Keisel-like beards.  Suffice to say, we passed on the food vendors.  I did see a fried twinkie/fried oreo stand.  This briefly piqued my interest.  I've never had either and always been a little curious.  But there was zero activity with regard to the heated vat of oil.  I didn't want to wait the obligatory 3 minutes so I passed.  I refuse to eat twinkies, but oreos are good stuff.  I just don't like to use or hear the term "double stuff."

Then, we entered this "blast form the past" record store.  Volumes of albums in every nook and cranny of the shop.  I was really taken aback by the quantity.  I didn't know places like this still existed.  I have a hunch the guy lived above the store and it's basically his hoarding hobby.  I doubt Eide's Record Store on Penn Avenue is still around either.   It was there we met the infamous Crumbsuckers in 1989.  This time, no New York hardcore band was anywhere in sight.  But Gig and I would meet the aspiring town drunkard.  He was a disheveled 30 year-old guy wearing a Bob Marley jacket.  He wandered over to an ill-placed keg of "Straubs" and started filling up.  Gig wanted to blow her nose and he briefly ridiculed us for splitting the paper towel in half.  I explained how these are recessionary times and we all need to do our part.  He seemed disinterested and started talking about his distrust of the government.  He drunkenly disparaged the Tea Party, Obama, the news media, the Millvale police... basically anyone and everyone.  It was still early.  I had a premonition of him closing down the fair around 11:15 p.m.  "Alright, everyone get the hell out!  We gonna pick up where we left off... tomorrow!"

We exited the record store and found ourselves smack dab in the middle of the Classic Car Show.  The vintage cars drove down the main thoroughfare at the pace of a snail.  Despite their auto-fixation, many had difficulty maneuvering in reverse into their allotted parking spots.  We took a gander across the street and saw these two guys in their early twenties.  One was dark black, the other Eminem white.  They were both sharing the same I-pod, one headphone in each ear.  They would both bob up and down in tandem, smiling in this display of interracial, ethnic unity.  It was their "unified harmony" that encouraged me to seek out the religious stand.

Across the street were two older men handing out literature pertaining to the gospel.  We opted to take the 7 question survey.  None of the questions were particularly interesting or well-phrased.  I considered advising them how to improve the survey.  I thought they should have focused on the current state of the economy... asking people if they've been impacted by the economic downturn (personal debt, marital troubles, raising kids, health insurance, etc.) - and then explain how it has been their experience... seeking spiritual guidance has improved many a persons' outlook.  Then I asked myself, despite the fact that these 2 guys seemed very pleasant and non-judgmental, why the hell would I want to actively promote their bible study?

On that note, we bolted.  As we walked back to the car, Gig pointed out one of the most unusual, chic furniture stores I have ever seen.  We gazed in the store window display.  Some overpriced, crazy pieces indeed.  The idea that this place is in the heart of Millvale strikes me as peculiar.  Perhaps it's better suited for Shadyside or some trendier area.  You might think I'm kidding, but maybe Millvale is in the early stages of a renaissance.  Despite the poverty stricken, continually flooded, Rt. 28 constructed, condemned to their fate attitude... there's this underlying, almost uplifting vibe about Millvale.  I think the rebirth of Millvale will one day be attributed to the opening of Mr. Small's back around the turn of the century.  I only wish the upcoming Insane Clown Posse concert would have coincided with Millvale Community Days.  It would have been rewarding to see a greater juggalo presence.

 

Ochocinco adaptation

I have concocted another idea.  And as usual, I think it has vast potential.

We all know of the alleged "future Hall of Famer" Chad Johnson (WR - Bungles).  Oh wait, plagued by having to play for one of the NFL's worst franchises, he came up with a magical idea.  He opted to  engage in a totally new level of self-promotion.  Change his name to Chad Ochocinco. Hey, it's not the worst idea.  I'm sure it helped with personalized jersey sales, especially considering the generic nature of his previous name.  Now the asshole plays for the Patriots.  A good fit I suppose.  Although I'm secretly a fan of Bill Belichick. 

In the current age of non-stop fantasy football draft discussion, here's a thought.  A mediocre wide receiver or running back should legally change his name to "Cowboys Suck."  Hear me out on this one.  During the dwindling moments of the fantasy draft (8th-10th rounds), everyone starts to lose interest.  Probably because people are growing exhausted and the actual player choices trend less critical.  All of a sudden, someone finally chooses Cowboys Suck and there's a spontaneous outburst of joy.  This would go over extremely well in the Philly, New York and the Washington DC markets as they tend to hate all that is Cowboys.  Theoretically, this idea would be a resounding success in every living room across the country.  Everyone would be waiting to see who takes "Cowboys Suck."  I could even envision Dallas fans picking the guy... in an attempt to make sure he never gets played and his unusual name becomes a non-issue.

But from a larger, strategical standpoint - the marketing aspect is off the hook.  All those obnoxious Philly fans would be salivating for $200 Eagles jerseys that say "Cowboys Suck."  I suppose you could also change your name to "Dallas Sucks."  Lots of boys named after cities in Texas these days (Austin, Tyler, Houston, Dallas, etc.).  I think there's a kid down the block named "Crawford."  So it's really not that much of a stretch.  Is that tight-end Dallas Clark still playing?  Not sure.

Assuming a football player takes hold of this idea...

A. He becomes an instant focal point and enjoys a ride to the top of the "crappy celeb" circuit.  Joining the likes of Paris Hilton and Octa-mom (whatever happened to that dumbshit?).  Next stop "Dancing with the Stars."

B. He gets instantaneous name recognition in the entire United States.  Barack Obama, Oprah Winfrey, Dallas Sucks, Mel Gibson, etc.

C. Would surely become a cult hero despite the fact that he's not a star athlete.

D. Would ride it all the way to the fucking bank.  Of this I assure you.  Endless self-promotion and marketing would eclipse even the likes of Sarah Palin and her extensive brood.  Coffee mugs, t-shirts, condoms, etc.

Remember that kick returner in the short-lived WWF football league.  He later got picked up by the Carolina Panthers.  Oh yeah, I remember him.  His name was "He Hate Me" - he became a source of ridicule, despised by a segment of society which most find annoying... the grammar etiquette police.

But I really think I'm onto something.  It doesn't necessarily have to be the name "Dallas Sucks" although that one's my favorite.  Maybe he could play for the Giants and change his name to Anthony's Weiner.  Although the long-term impact would surely diminish.  Cowboys Suck has way more vision and longevity.


And it plays into the theory that everyone's just so special these days... with their unique names and all.  I just saw a Maury Povich paternity test where this baby girl was named "Youneek."  Her mother, aptly named "LaSquisha" was in a feud with the alleged father "T-Bone."  Everyone must follow the example set by Povich.  I'd never abide by Sharia Law, but Maury Law has an allure all its own.   The timing for such name alteration rouse is spot-on.   People will adapt.  And fantasy football will forever be changed.  And the world will be changed as well.

There is one big downside.  Discussion of "Dallas Sucks" would have great appeal amongst "the crowd which has nothing else to contribute."  You know who I'm talking about.   Those who always discuss the weather and the high cost of gas.  This does scare me a little.  It's like giving a loaded gun to a  broad spectrum of sub-humanoids.  I will have given them the gift of a seemingly fresh, new topic.  They will take it and mercilessly pummel the line into oblivion.  And what if they use it in conjunction with other new urban-hip slang references such as "Deuces", "Boo Back", "Fa-Real?" and "Are you serious?"   I will have created a monster.


One final thought.   I'm also committed to a universal NFL football jersey specifically for proud atheists.  With the name "GODLESS" on the back.  What number would you put on it?  That's an easy 1.  Everyone would know that you are indeed the...

GODLESS

1

how to destroy every golf ball company

With the creative assistance of The Wreck Sandwich from Chicago Airport (Midway), I have conceptualized a powerful idea.  This one deserves some kind of lofty acknowledgement.  Whether it be Pulitzer or Noble Peace Prize, I do not care.  But it deserves some degree of acclaim.

Wreck Sand carries a sharpie marker in his golf bag.  He occasionally will take a brand new Calloway and inscribe a profane word.  Usually something related to slang genitalia.  Finding a golf ball in the woods with the word "CUNT" on it... well, I think it would make for a more memorable golfing experience.  Imagine the glee and sense of wonderment one might have.  Regaling everyone at the bar later that evening and reliving the precise moment when you found a ball that said "Titliest TITTY."  Surely most people would switch balls.  I know I'd rather use the one with the cussing on it.

And then, imagine if your game soared to new heights!  You'd have this pivotal moment, this "act of god" turning point that propelled you to victory.   "I wasn't playing all that well until I went to take a piss in the woods and saw this golf ball.  I pick it up and guess what... The damn thing says "Top Flite TWAT" on it.  Yeah... that's what I'm talking about mother fucker!"  Even a high school kid from Linsly would agree.  It's a win-win.

Alright.   Since I'm the first person to ever push this idea into the mainstream world of golf, I'm going to lay down some specific ground rules.  First, I want every decent pro shop in the country to sell cheap black Sharpie markers.  I don't think that's asking too much.  Probably for a buck ninety nine or maybe $2.49.  In this case, you can only gouge so much.  For the love of god, it's just a marker.

My other decree.  I get to assign ALL the new golf ball names. This additional curse-word must be either one or two syllables because it just makes sense.  The word itself can only be 4 or 5 letters.  I don't know how to explain this one.  I just know I'm right.  And the first letter should always be the same as the brand.  The alliteration just offers way more continuity.  For example...

Pinnacle PUSSY
Dunlop DICK
Bridgestone BITCH
Calloway COCK and/or CLIT (the only one w/ 2 equally good choices)
Slazenger SHIT
Prostaff PRICK
Wilson WHORE
Noodle/Nike NIGGA (forgive the racial slur, but it really does work here)
Maxfli MUFF

There can only be one exception.  After hours of deliberation, it must be Srixon CUNT.  It just has this commanding resonance and blunt delivery.

I'm actually having this major debate inside my head right now - whether to get some golf balls out of my car and write the shit down.  I believe I will.  Not really for the glory aspect, but assuming this becomes the "trendy, cool thing to do," I just want it on the record that I crippled the coveted brand image of every golf ball company simultaneously.  Golf originated in the 1600's in Scotland.  It has been a long journey.  And then along came the Ultra URINE.

If you really think about it, this idea is just a spin-off from advanced "CUM" Dumpster theory 101.  The dumpster being a proud focal point of concert and sporting events.  The furious consumption and tossing of the bottle into the metallic dumpster.  THUD!  The same noise would be heard at the corporate headquarters of Titliest and Top Flite.  It's the sound of their senior marketing VP having a panic attack and hitting the floor like a ton of bricks.  All those years spent developing their brand - vanishing in an instant.  And all it took was an open mind and a willingness to embrace something  fresh and innovative... and a Sharpie marker. 

In Rumsfeld We Trust

Like everyone else, I've been reflecting on 9/11.  Since everyone goes the "where were you" path or are eager to engage in a discussion about how they felt personally impacted, I'll take a different approach.  Specifically, what I did in the aftermath of 9/11.

I vividly remember the "run on flags."  Every retailer was instantly out of flags.  Entire piles of window stickers and bumper stickers would suddenly disappear.  Anything with a United States flag on it was a must have.  Everyone needed to immediately embrace this sweeping nationalism.  But at the same time, everyone was overwhelmed by this intense helplessness.  So I guess people revert to traditional customs - specifically, waving the flag.  I can understand this.  Human beings are so visually driven.  I think the mere thought of not displaying a flag would have been tantamount to treason, or siding with the enemy.

Of course I wholeheartedly support any American's right to wrap themselves in the flag.  If that's your thing, that's fine with me.  But for me personally, it often seems like a hollow gesture.  And yes, I know... people gave their lives for that flag.  Well... not really.  For me, that's just too simplistic.  People don't give their lives for cloth symbols and metal poles.  They die for conceptual reasons like freedom and their perception of liberty.  I've always been hesitant to incorporate the intangibles into a nice, little package.  Wrap it up and put it on display.  The larger the flag, the more patriotic you must be.  I just cannot follow that progression.   For me, it does not compute.

I want to hear the things you say - not what you wear, not what you display.   I want to see people emboldened and take action, not merely mimic the routine choices of the crowd.  So what did I do in the immediate aftermath of 9/11.  I required a bigger statement.  My solution was a piece of paper in the back of my Subaru hatch...

IN RUMSFELD

WE TRUST 

  
 I thought this set an intriguing precedent.  Of course, I couldn't place my trust in an imaginary deity to right the ship.  And I could never actively salute Dick Cheney or embrace W.  So I went straight to the source - the head of the Department of Defense.  Made sense to me... at the time.    

I'll close on a lighter note.  I really like this 9/11 tribute commercial I saw yesterday.  It's the one with the children singing Jay Z/Alicia Key's "Empire State of Mind" to the New York firefighters.  It's so gripping and poignant.  Then you get to the end, and the words State Farm appear on the screen.  I've often been disturbed by insurance commercials and how people let emotions guide their decision process when buying auto coverage.  They attach these notions of nobility and grandeur - to a fucking insurance company.  Idiots.  As if that paper/number company "really cares about you."  As if someone behind a desk in Connecticut is "there for you in your time of need."   But I suppose I'll exempt State Farm from the hate.  They will get a pass.  Allstate though... NEVER.  They fucked me over in the early 1990's.   And much like 9/11, I'll never forget.

Kickdown table

Alex and I were at a Phish concert in Noblesville, Indiana back in the late 1990's.  It was a captivating time.  All the venues had not yet absorbed corporate identities.  It's when Deer Creek was still Deer Creek and I don't think Verizon Wireless even existed.  This might have been right before the widespread introduction of cell phones.  So I'm guessing it was around 1997.  We camped at Pine Lakes, probably about 10 minutes form the campground.  All the campgrounds were raging after the show, but Pine Lakes was bigtime.  We were strolling through the vendor section along the lake and took notice of this one hippie kid in his 20's.  He had his own stand sandwiched in between some girl selling mushroom quilts and some other bozo offering burnt grilled cheese.  He was promoting something called a "kickdown table."  But he was on a mission... of his own.

Hippie:   "Welcome to the kickdown table.  If you have something to spare, please kick it down.  It does not have to be something that costs a lot of money."  (long pause, while he takes a deep hit off a large glass bong).  He exhales and continues to coughingly remark, "The kickdown table is a totally free service.  It's available for everyone.  If you see something you want, feel free to take it.   Just make sure to kick something down, preferably of similar value."  Then, as if giving a presidential address to the nation, he would make his final closing remarks. "We all have something we can kick down.  We all can make a difference.  We are all brothers and sisters..."    Reminiscent of a hazy, warped 3am I have a dream speech,  he'd finish it off with another methodical bong hit. 

Yada Yada Yada.  Basically, this kid just liked to hear himself talk.  But it was really weird, because he was making these grandiose statements to nobody.  We watched from a discreet distance and eyed up the contents of the kickdown table.  It consisted of a bunch of crap.  A Chevron key chain, a few packets of ketchup, a bumper sticker which read "Mean People Suck," a bottle opener, a central Indiana tourism brochure, a miniature box of Fruity Pebbles, some wooden matches, etc. 

But there were also some cigarettes lying on the kickdown table.  We stood and silently watched as these local teenagers observed the smokes, eyeing them up as if they were T-Bone steaks.  The kids had a plan.  One would distract the hippie while the other would swiftly sneak up from behind and grab a couple cigarettes.  The kids would stealthily exit and light up.  Walking off in the distance, smiling and congratulating each other, they looked they had just pulled off the 1978 JFK Airport Lufthansa heist from the movie Good Fellas.  We silently watched as the hippie resumed his speech about the virtues of the kickdown table, completely oblivious to what had just transpired. 

So we made a 20 minute loop around the lake and returned to the sight.  Sure enough, the hippie was still going strong.  And the townie kids were back using that same "distract, snatch and grab" kind of strategy.  And of course, the kickdown hippie still preaching the gospel, offering the same nonsensical philanthropic ramblings regarding "Operation Kickdown."  The whole thing seemed like a poorly managed, psychedelic New Deal Program instituted under Franklin D. Roosevelt.  Kind of like handing out jobs to people who would sweep leaves.  Ahh, the virtues of the kickdown table.

But it got me to thinking.  Every household in the United States has one thing in common.  Every home has a box of some miscellaneous merchandise from a  business or extinct corporation.  Maybe it's a box of pharmaceutical promotional trinkets - say penlights adorned with the Pfizer logo.  Maybe it's a bag of Whirlpool refrigerator magnets or stack of 50 shot glasses that all say "Yosemite."  My point... everyone has an allotment of this seemingly worthless merchandise.  They never throw it out or choose the goodwill route.   "Oh yeah, the box filled with 500 handkerchiefs inscribed with the words "Blowin' that Honker."  Don't throw that out.  We might need those someday."

Why doesn't every household have a kickdown table of sorts?  Well, perhaps not an actual table.  Just a box in a closet filled with extra promo crap.  Remember... one person's trash is another person's treasure.  And it would make for a great conversation starter at dinner parties.  "We went to Uncle Bob's last night and everyone got a free "Toledo Sanitation Department" sun visor and "Montgomery Ward" thermos.  Think of the joy this might bring.  Why not resurrect the concept proposed by a tripped out hippie on that fateful night?   Admittedly, his execution was a tad off, but the concept of the kickdown table is still... well... alive and kickin'.