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His soon to be wife walked in. . .


It's the only reasonable explanation for this.

The Wal-Mart Game


I really wish I had seen this link before I went to Wal-Mart for coffee last night.

In any town of less than 10,000 people, especially if the closest interstate is fourty miles away, Wal-Mart is entertainment.

Don't get me wrong, I love Wal-Mart, I do, but the dangers of drinking well water are nowhere better illustrated than the snack aisle of a super Wal-Mart after dark.

Just so everyone knows, I've actually seen a person with a NASCAR sticker on his neck brace, not only that, but I've seen him so often I know what his truck looks like, so if I get to the Wal-Mart while it's still light out, I can check that box off before I even get out of the car.



It just can't. . .can't be true!

He was just swollen is all. Bee stings. A lot of them. especially around the neck, shoulders and biceps.

This is news to someone by God, someone who watched no baseball between 1980 and 2004.

My, My. My.


Check this out.

So, I wonder. . .

A little while ago I said some people ought to be dragged off and shot. I take it back, what I meant to say was. . . Hangin's too good for them.

And farther back I made a promise; pretty much to myself, (but 'cmon, this whole thing is pretty much talking to myself) that I would cut down on the profanity. Specifically my favorite cussword, cocksucker.

Well, me and Mr. Dewars are taking it all back (and just so you know what kind of mood I'm in, it took me, shit, about 10 minutes to type the first part of this sentence, longer than that to finish the parenthetical).

Let's get going here.

I think the fucking cocksmokers that ratted this asshole out deserve to be flayed alive. The sonofabitches that suspended his ass for writing a fucking journal ought to have their teeny tiny dicks removed (the "women" too) with a fucking chainsaw, and fed to feral cats. And this fucking idiot, writing in a fucking public goddamn forum about killing the fucking idiots that have his balls in a sling needs to be lobotomized for his own fucking protection, the goddamn asshole. Now, we are going to be further indebted to the goddamn bullshit ACLU, who are the only people who stick up for anybody, even if half the time (more than half, in my opinion) they're totally fucking wrong. Thanks, faggot. What a fucking idiot. Hope you learned your lesson, dumbshit. The cocksuckers who give you grades own your fucking ass, understand? Own it. If those fuckers were paying you money they couldn't own you more. I spent a whole fucking year not writing about work, even though I could've come up with some shit that would turn your junior-high ass WHITE and I still won't mention the previous employer, because I might have to go back some day. Listen to me motherfucker, better people than you have managed to piss off the people who hold their nuts. And if you think that because your ass is still in school that people will feel sorry for you? Fuck you. Thanks, dickhead, for making everyone who has a fucking blog look like a fucking nutcase. Next time you want to exercise your freedom of speech about school, just walk into school wearing a black fucking trench coat and eyeliner. See if the fuckers ignore you then, dumbass. You have shit for brains and obviously no ability to control your mouth. How many girls did you lay your livejournal url on? Did you get a hummer out of it? I bet you didn't, you're in band. Asshole.

Stupid piece of shit, if he was my kid, I'd kick his ass. Where's he been for the past six years? Has he never heard of Columbine fucking High School? Does he really think he's been suspended for fucking profanity? He's suspended because the goddamn pussies who run the school are scared out of their fucking minds that some piece of shit band geek will come to school with a fucking shotgun. Drama queens with dreams of shooting their way into high school history are so over man. It's been done, bigger than this shithead could ever imagine, and for real too. Shit, this peckerhead was in what, sixth or seventh grade when Columbine happened? This fuckers parents should beat his ass for being an idiot, and make him take his medicine.

Then he should figure out which of the chicks that he laid his "I'm so depressed" line on ratted his URL to the fucking homo guidance counselor (yes I'm perfectly aware that he probably told a guy too, I'm pretending he's straight) who ratted him out to the school board or whoever makes these fucking decisions, and hire someone to beat her down. I mean c'mon, he couldn't do it himself, that's fucking obvious. Then his father and a few of his friends should throw a blanket party for the fucking guidance counselor one night in the parking lot of the local community center after the "Quilting for Life" class lets out. A few bucks to the fucking principal, and a promise to deliver a couple of votes to each of the assholes on the school board and everything's fixed.

Then Daddy should take the fucking computer, burn the good porn and music to a couple of cd's, and sell it. Cheap.

And the fucker should do it quick before the fucking queen convinces his mom that the experience will make a killer college application essay.

But that's the way it would happen here. This piece of shit's in Connecticut. God help us all.

posted without comment


Muppets.com -- Gonzo Stunt Game

I'm selling, and I'm not wearing any pants.+

I need someone to sue. OK, I don't see anything wrong with what Eagles Radio did. I DO however think that this guy shouldn't have been working there if he didn't know how to dress. And if he was wrapped so tight, he got offended at what is, on its face, good advice, he shouldn't be working anywhere.

Of course, now that he has his money, he doesn't have to work for a while.

I'm of Irish Catholic descent. I would not be offended if I read a book telling me that if I was going to sell something to say, Ian Paisley, I should avoid wearing a kilt. It would probably not be a bad thing if it told me to show up sober and not talk about the damn Pope so much. That way, the product is the message, not my ethnicity.

The Judge or Jury or Human Rights commission or whatever it was in Philly that decided this case all need to be dragged off and shot.

If the "Philadelphia Human Rights Commission" or whatever is really interested in human rights in Philadelphia, they should do something about the damn wage tax. If they can't do anything about that, then they should at least teach people to curb their goddamn dogs. There's a human rights issue, right there, dog crap. It's EVERYWHERE in that city, not just in Fishtown.

You know what insults me? I spellchecked this post and Blogger suggested "killed" for the word "kilt". What are they trying to say? Huh? People from Kentuckiana don't know the difference between "killed" and "kilt"? Am I some kind of a moron because I live in an area where people speak with a certain accent? Where's the goddamn Madison, Indiana Human Rights Commission"? I'm suing Google! They certainly have more money than Infinity Radio. Those bastards are going DOWN!

Stole the link shamelessly from Joe Sherlock a fellow Philly ex-pat and SJP and Villanova Alum.

DRM Free!

Amazon put together a directory of music that's available for free download. It's demos and such, but it updated every six hours. It's a bookmark if I've ever seen one.

What Timing!


God, I love a good conspiracy theory.

My prediction, Michael Corleone is going down!

Anyway, at some point there was talk that Pope John Paul I was murdered by this P2 lodge for threatening to expose the corruption of the IOR, the Vatican bank. And that they elected JP2, a Pole, because he was completely out of the loop and wouldn't do anything about the scandal.

Anyway, the head of IOR at the time, Archbishop Paul Marcinkus, was a Jesuit who is famous for saying "You can't run a Church on Hail Mary's." Is a favorite target of conspiracy theorists, and was seriously, one of the most powerful men in the world. He's also President Emiretus of the Vatican.

Here's a cool link: Social Network Diagram for MARCINKUS PAUL CASIMIR

Mhuahahahahahah . . . Mhuahahahahahah

Miss Church ONCE and Jesus himself shows up.


That's right, I was babysitting the two youngest and who should pop in at mass? Jesus Christ.

He's in town for the premier of this movie, evidently they are finally going to release it. They filmed it in 1999, and if you look REEEAAAAAL close, you might see the butt end of my car. You see they were filming one day while I was out to lunch with a bunch of people from work and they made everyone move their car but me. because mine looked old enough. They put some black tape over the license and chrome, but other than that, nothing. Makes me proud.

Of course, there are some differences between a 1971 volvo and mine, but when it's dirty, it'll pass.

I spent the day fixing up my office, mowing and watching the kids, which isn't so bad. Skippy and Scamper got into a little argument over the ownership of a tennis ball, it was pretty much over by the time I got the camera out.

Back at it


I'm home. Started the new job Monday, spent three days in Orlando. That's the cool part, the uncool part is. . .

Thanks to three days over-consumption of light beer and too much salty food, I no longer fit in my 34 inch pants.

Hopefully, at some point between now and Monday I will crap something fierce and get the old waist back where it belongs.

I'm not saying that I'm HUGE or anything, but my previously elegant, piano player-like fingers now look like a mass of uncooked chorizo.

So, I'm only wearing fat pants from now on. Drawstring only.

Wish I had watched this game.


Mainly because I remember when Atlanta had the best pitching in baseball and John Smoltz was a huge part of that. But also because last week Smoltz had his first start as pitcher in what, four years? and got lit up like a candle, ending up with an ERA of 11-something after only five outs. This is Smoltz's second start, and he throws 15 strikeouts? That's brass balls, he's going to kick some butt this year. I don't know how the Braves are going to do, but Smoltz will scare the pants off of hitters all year.

In other baseball news, Junior's not hurt yet. Yet.

Hayden and Gabe start baseball practice this week, and I'm in Orlando for most of it.

I start a new job today. I had a post all about it, but Bollger ate it, and if you are wondering if the new "recover post" button works, it doesn't. In fact, it's not even there any more.

I have to remember, it's free.

34 Inch Pants


For the first time in four years.

On April 9, 2004 I was 215 lbs and wearing 36 inch pants.

April 9th 2005 I weighed in at 193.

Today I put on 34 inch pants.

Body fat still too high, but I'll be around 10% by July.




Blogger blew up this morning, my post is missing. Looks like they want me to use their new "recover post" feature ASAP.

This just sucks.

Repeat "it's free, it's free, it's free"

News, Pope, Kids, School, Church.


Friday afternoon the two older boys came home and told Charisa that the Pope died. Sister had announced it over the intercom. That set off third grade flashbacks for me, because we had three Popes in less than four months. I can remember when they told us that JP I had died. I would have thought they were kidding if I had thought nuns had a sense of humor.

So, Friday night when I get home, we've got the news on, and it's been on ever since. I've been listening to Fox news trot out every Catholic they can find. Unfortunately, the only Catholics that appear regularly on TV are either some sort of militant, or just super abrasive. I think the best commentary I heard was from Fred Barnes, not a Catholic, who smacked down Mort Kondracke, also not a Catholic, for teeing off on the women as priest deal. Old Fred made the tradition point better than any priest I've ever heard. We need to assimilate that man. One of Us. . .One of Us. . . .

We told Hayden the other day that he'd get a star for every paper he brought home with a grade over 90%. If he got 10 stars, I'd take him to Roger's Corner for a malt. Yesterday was "brown folder day", the day when the kids bring all of their papers home from the last week. Every grade was above 90%. Got a malt. Have to do some thinking about this. Looks like it worked, but 10 in one week?

I start a new job on Monday, but I'm still working at the old one and they haven't sent out any sort of notification that I'm leaving. Normally, I wouldn't mind, but people are still assigning me to projects and dumping tickets in my bucket. It takes longer to get rid of all this work than it does to actually do it, so I haven't had a hell of a lot of time to get my act together so I can leave gracefully. So today, I'm sending out my own notification. I mean, hell, I gave two weeks.

Saturday night Hayden's class were the readers at Mass. He did the best job as far as I'm concerned. But, now I remember why I don't go to Saturday night mass. Between Gavin and Eoin it was like sitting in a pew wrestling a live tuna. Exausting. Charisa and I'd switch off every five minute or so, but damn! Well, at least we provide some entertainment for the people. Every Sunday, as we emerge wrinkled and vomit covered from the side door of the church, some older couple tells us how wonderful our children are, and how they remember when their kids were young. I usually let Charisa do the talking because my glasses are usually bent in half and crammed in my ear, someone's pulling my pants down to my ankles and I'm holding the baby over a storm drain to drain excess fluid.

Beautiful day today, storms tonight, blooms are coming out on the trees. Pictures of downtown maybe later.

At the River


Eoin, Gavin and I were waiting for the library to open on Sunday down on Vaughn Drive. If you look close you can see the bridge connecting Madison with the bustling metropolis of Milton, KY. The river was very high, if you look at the boat coming downstream you can see that it's pretty close to the bridge.

Anyway, real pretty day. I had a good long post, but blogger ate it, so this is what you get. Also I screwed up getting the extended entry area into my stylesheet, so, deal.

UPDATE Here's a picture of the boat passing the place where we were standing, usually only the top of the funnels are visible, the overlooks are usually about 12 feet up from the water. Looks funny because I took it through the windsheild.

Medal of Honor - Sergeant First Class Paul R. Smith


I heard about this shortly after Baghdad fell, watching TV. It was either the History Channel or Discovery, an insta-documentary on the invasion. I remember an Army officer speaking to a reporter about the fight at the airport. I remember the officer sounding angry that the story wasn't front page news, in fact, it struck me just how emotional he was.

I am in awe of people like Sgt. Smith. I read stories like this and I wonder what I would have done in his place. Sgt Smith made a decision under stress to perform an action that was above and beyond what was required or expected of him. In doing so he not only saved the lives of others, but he lost his.

Sgt. Smith had a wife and two kids at home, and 25 soldiers under his command in Iraq. From his citation: "Sgt. 1st Class Smith’s actions saved the lives of at least 100 Soldiers, caused the failure of a deliberate enemy attack hours after 1st Brigade seized the Baghdad Airport, and resulted in an estimated 20-50 enemy soldiers killed. His actions inspired his platoon, his Company, the 11th Engineer Battalion and Task Force 2-7 Infantry."

He could've retreated, he could have fallen back and re-grouped, the objective would have been taken and the attack stopped eventually, I have no doubt. No one would have objected to that decision, no one would have called that cowardice or anything other than what a professional soldier would have done. But he chose to do more than that, and he evidently made that decision before any of this ever happened. On his profile page a description of his last letter home describes how he spoke of being prepared to give—as he said—‘all that I am, to ensure that all my boys make it home.’ In that same letter, he told his parents how proud he was of the ‘privilege to be given 25 of the finest Americans we call Soldiers to lead into war’ and he recognized their fears and his responsibilities for their welfare.

Would I have made the same decision? We're the same age, I have a wife and kids too. Would I have recognized that I was in a position where the responsibility that I had to the hundred or so people standing behind me was greater than the responsibility that I had to my wife, my kids and myself? Would I have acted in accordance to my own stated principals, or would I have folded like a cheap cardboard box?

I know what I hope I would have done, but I'm not at all certain I would have done it. There is, after all a reason why we honor people like Sgt. Smith, and there's even more of a reason why there's so few people like Sgt. Smith to be honored.