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Thursday, August 31, 2006

For Vinnie

Yesterday's Erin Gray comment was very moving. And we all know I eagerly help out my friends, so . . . enjoy!

Babes with guns. God bless America!

A Blogs4Bauer Contest

As about three of you know, I also exercise my *cough* talent over at Blogs4Bauer. And, since the good folks at Fox probably won't run the next season until, oh, June, it's rather difficult to keep the B4B fans interested.

Thankfully, The Man has your answer.

Introducing, the Bauer2006 Bumper Sticker Contest!

You design a bumper sticker for Jack's CT/NY Senate run - it's easy in Photoshop - and send it to B4B. The deadline is Friday, September 8th, and we'll hold a poll to decide the winner. Here's the good part: the winner's bumper sticker will be placed on CafePress for sale, and all proceeds will go to AnySoldier, Inc.

So, get crackin' and submit an entry!

Free At Last, Free At Last!!!

Thank God Almighty, I'm free at last!!!

It is very difficult to post today, since I keep trying to make out with my new Verizon DSL modem. Try sticking your tongue into one of those things! Any hoo, the DSL is up and running, and after I figure out my new e-mail system, I should be back to posting borderline funny stuff again.

I'm sorry, I just can't stop looking longingly into the modem's eyes.

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

The Whole System Is Outta Order!

"Your Honor, I ask you, is this justice?" - Al Capone, The Untouchables

The greatest miscarriage of justice since the O.J. Simpson trial occurred yesterday in my fair city. And I had the extreme misfortune to be present for the debacle. Let's start at the beginning, shall we?

In April 2005, I was working a patrol car in the city's Northeast section, when we get a call for a Person With A Weapon on the 9000 block of Revere Street. When I arrived on the scene, a female officer was talking to the victim, who was bleeding from the head like a stuck pig. Her blonde hair was matted down in streaks of deep red, belying her youthful face. The victim was hysterical, but claimed her husband came home drunk, and hit her in the back of the head with a dumbbell. The husband fled the scene when the police were called.

My partner and I were checking the scene when a white vehicle drove by the street. The victim screamed, "That's him!," and we jumped in our cars to give chase. When we stopped the husband, the female officer said over the radio, "Be advised, the offender is a Philadelphia Police Detective." Swell. We asked the offender to step out of the car, and he did, while talking on his cellphone. When we asked him to get off the phone, he replied with disdain, "I'm talking to my FOP rep." My immediate reaction: asshole.

A supervisor was called to the scene, and the offender was arrested. The victim suffered a severe laceration to the back of her scalp, and was stitched up at the local hospital.

A few months later, we get a court notice for the trial. The defense, hoping witnesses and the victim will eventually refuse to show, asked for a continuance. Everyone showed for the next listing. We had the trial yesterday, eight continuances and sixteen months after the incident! The judge in the case was the "honorable" Judge Meehan. You'll understand the sarcasm shortly.

The victim, the witness, the defendant, the defendant's daughter, and several "character witnesses" for the defendant had their say in court. Because guys who work with this clown absolutely know what he does away from work, right? The defendant plead not guilty at the start, and the defense first threw out a self-defense argument. This was laughable because the defendant, a ten-year veteran of the military and a ten-year veteran of the force, was easily twice the size of his waif-like wife. When that didn't work, the defense tried to convince the judge that during the argument, the defendant pushed the victim, causing her to fall onto an unknown solid object. Right.

I figured it was a home run, since the defense just admitted simple assault. Regardless of intent, anyone whose actions cause bodily injury to another is guilty of the offense of simple assault. Game, set, and match, right? Closing arguments came and went, while Judge Meehan listened from on high. This was not a jury trial; the judge would made the ruling.

Immediately after the prosecution finished his closing, Judge Meehan ordered the defendant to stand. Before the defendant was out of his chair, the judge stated, "I find you not guilty of all charges."

Silence.

I wanted to shout, "He admitted he assaulted her! How can you say 'not guilty' with a straight face? Who bought your ruling?"

In my humble opinion, the fix was in. Judge Meehan didn't even make it look believable. He didn't adjourn to his chambers to mull the case over. He didn't even pause before his ruling. In my opinion, he didn't want to ruin the life a former detective (who has a long history of alleged domestic violence) , whose family has money and political clout, even though his "ruling" ruined the life of the victim. The detective had even a passing relationship with Meehan, if only by virtue of his position in the department. After a while, detectives get to know everyone in the court system. Meehan was no different.

After the ruling, the victim came up to me and said, "What do I do now? He got away with it again. You'll find me dead in Pennypack Park someday, and he'll walk on that, too." What do you say to something like that? The only words I could find were, "I'm sorry." The Philadelphia Judicial System victimized this woman twice in this case, and countless times previously. And now, she has to live the rest of her life in fear.

Oh, and the defendant? Since he was found not guilty, he can now apply for reinstatement to the PPD. He will almost surely get it . . . as well as all of his back pay. Despicable.

Now, I've REALLY Had It!!!

I just spent 45 minutes writing about the miscarriage of justice I experienced yesterday. Then, good ole Blogger shut down, and erased everything. FRAK!!!

As if I wasn't pissed off enough already.

In less enraging news, Verizon sent out my modem yesterday, and I have a UPS tracking number to prove it. Tonight is my last night for the tour, so I should slightly less pissed off tomorrow. Slightly.

I'm gonna try and re-write the entire lost post, but if you don't see it, I shot my computer.

FRAKKERS!!!

Monday, August 28, 2006

Urge To Kill . . . Rising!

Okay, despite the fact that it's not 2am on the East Coast, I have been trying to post since 11:30pm. Thus, consider this my "Monday Post."

I've had it.

The last two days have been a tumult of anger and despair. To be honest, blogging has been situated slightly ahead of my weekly back shaving, but a tad behind my sock arranging. I really like arranging my socks. Although I'll blog about each topic in detail a.s.a.p., here's a taste of what has happened in the last 48 hours:

* An idiot uniformed lieutenant in my division has been using my squad as his personal errand boy. Excuse me, jackass, but slavery ended in 1865.

* I am still chained to dial-up. Why? Because the bitch from Verizon ignored my request that she send me a modem. After three modem-less days, we called back, and they had no record of my complaint/order. Swell.

* The only court case I took personally ended on Monday - I was in court from 8am to 3pm, then I went straight to work (thus, no posting) - and it was not a good outcome.

* And, last but not least, my old district has a new captain. She's a beyotch, and has hand-picked her administrative staff. There's not a brain cell in the bunch.

Sunday, August 27, 2006

Stupid Women's Sports Questions

Is Christie Kerr available for private golf lessons?


Isn't Ana Ivanovic too hot to be a pro tennis player?


Whatever happened to Tanith Belbin?

Seasoned With Basil

Good news, everyone! Basil’s Interview with yours truly is up and running at his place. Please, for the love of God, stop by, give it a read, and leave a pithy comment or two. In my opinion, the answers are some of my funniest ever. But, I’ll let you be the judge.

And shame on you “regulars" who didn’t ask me a question!

Saturday, August 26, 2006

Golfing, With A Twist Of Limekiln

The dreaded scorecard. My scores are at the top.

For the three of you who wondered why today’s posts are so late, I was lucky enough to hit the links this morning before work tonight. My foursome (Me, Badger, Badger’s brother Sean, and his friend Pip) drove out to Limekiln Golf Club in Ambler, PA. The club is composed of three nine-hole courses, so the starter can mix and match courses, and thus, avoid long lines.

Badger ruined my day almost immediately when he said “we” bet Sean and Pip $5 each for the best score on the front nine, back nine, and the total score. That’s $15 each “we” were bound to lose, because Sean is a fabulous golfer, and Pip is at least as good as me. The only thing we had going for us was that Sean was still a little drunk from Friday’s night out. I mean, how well can he play drunk, right?

Sean then hit a 200-yard drive, straight down the middle of the fairway. Frak!

I hit a decent drive, and wound up with a 6 on the first hole. Not bad, but not great. I followed with a 4, a 6, and two straight 8’s. It was getting pretty damned ugly. After five holes, we were down ten strokes.

Then, something happened. I started playing out of my mind.

I hit a par on the 7th, then a 7, a 5, and another par on the 9th. My total for the first half was 51, which is much better than I usually score. Badger came out with a 46, for a team total of 97. Sean and Pip ended the front with a 47 and a 49, respectively, for a total of 96. We lost the front, but only by one.

I started the back nine with a 4, then a 7, and then followed with two straight pars. The last was my fourth of the day: new league record! Another despicable 8, I followed with a 5, which put my score at 83 with three holes to go. Suddenly, a thought appeared in my mind: “Oh my God, I may break 100 here.”

And then I frakked everything up: I said that out loud!

Badger and Sean just said, “You touched the money!” I tried to put it out of my mind, but I couldn’t. “I jinxed myself. I jinxed myself!” As I lined up for the 180-yard, par 3 16th, the jinx was still rattling through my empty head. I swung at the ball, made contact . . . and it went just past the ladies tee. FRAK!!! The next two shots were a blur. Both deep, wet rough shots that went nowhere. I miraculously finished the hole with a 6 – and was happy about it. Now, I had an 89.

On 17, it was more of the same. My trajectory was all over the place, and I shot a double bogey 6. Now, I was at 95, with the 401-yard, par 4 18th remaining. I needed a par to break 100.

My drive was fantastic, long and straight. It landed about 160 yards from the pin. I was still alive. My second shot went a little right, and short. I was about 75 yards from the pin. Now I am getting worried. I could still save par with a decent wedge shot. My third shot hit the ball wrong, and it went left into the greenside rough. Damnit. Sensing defeat, I took the next shot, and my wedge went underneath the ball, barely moving it. I was still in greenside rough, and decided to putt it out, since the 99 was now a figment of my imagination. It rolled true, and stopped a half inch from the pin. Everyone yelled, and I said, “Ten second rule! No one touch it until it falls in!

It never did, and I tapped in for a disappointing 6. Total score: 101.

What? You were expecting a happy ending with me involved?

Friday, August 25, 2006

People I Hate

This week's episode is a no-brainer:

The Jerkass Customer Service Rep At Verizon DSL

The broad promised that she would send my missing DSL modem overnight. To quote Babu Bhatt, "What happened to the modem? Where is the modem? Show me the modem!" And now, as if sensing my upgrade to DSL, my dial-up through PeoplePC is acting kinda "hinky." It took me four tries to get online tonight. George is getting upset!!! This is not going to be the start of a beautiful friendship, I can tell you that.

UPS

If, on the off chance that the above listed broad sent out my modem and specifically wrote "OVERNIGHT" on the package, the not-so-good folks at UPS will be making my "Enemies List." It's a long list. And since I was waiting for the Big Brown Truck to drop off the key to my shackles of dial-up for hours without a payoff, United Parcel Service is not going be invited to my "People Who Won't Burn In My Own Personal Hell Party." Bastards.

Pennsylvania Governor Ed Rendell

I cannot believe that this fat bastard is going to get re-elected! Cripes, it looks like even Lynn Frakkin' Swann can't unseat this piece of detritus! It gets worse. The man who promised the Philadelphia Police Department would be the highest paid department in the country . . . then cut the starting salary down to $23,750 within days of his mayoral win is on the front page of The Philadelphia Inquirer today stating that this is his last campaign. Bullshit. This fat scumbag would say anything to get re-elected, and as soon as that happens, he'll probably announce his intention to run for FOP President.

You're up by about 80 percentage points, Rendell. Stop trying to tug Dummy-crats' heart strings to get an extra five. Jerkoff.

The Waiting Is The Hardest Part

No, I haven't forgotten PIH today. And, no I haven't forgotten to post, either. Instead, I am sitting home anxiously awaiting for UPS to bring me my damned DSL modem that Verizon forgot to ship. The Verizon rep told me that she was overnighting it yesterday, so I am sitting at the door like Sssteve waits for the pizza guy. Just be patient, and you'll get yours. (Posts, that is.)

In the meantime here's something to mull over:

Top Five Things I Am Pondering While Waiting For My Modem

5. Is Tiger Woods is the greatest golfer ever? He is leading again today.
4. Did Basil get my interview answers? The interview is to be posted tomorrow.
3. When will I get free time to play Madden '07?
2. Is that a pimple or a boil?

And the number one thing I am pondering while waiting for my modem is . . .

1. Why is Andy Dick famous?

Thursday, August 24, 2006

A Slap In The Face

Is this any way to treat a national treasure?

I would have expected more from my countrymen. Scientists in Prague, Czech Republic have stripped Bluto of his planetary status. Considered too small by those in the elite scientific community, Bluto has been downgraded to "dwarf planet" status.

Now, the master of mayhem at Faber College has to share a classification reserved for those under four feet tall. Well, I'll tell you what; I won't stand for it! This is the man who broke bottles over his head for others' amusement. This is the man with a 0.0 GPA. This is the man who destroyed that filthy hippie's guitar! Bluto deserves better.

What's that? It was Pluto that lost its status? Oh. Never mind.

If You Loved Me, You'd Get Me . . .

"Your time is at an end, Spider-man!"

This Mysterio statue! Standing thirteen inches tall, this thing will scare the kids and make nerdy dads (read: me) giggle with delight. Ya just know you wanna get me one!

Aww, Deathlok's mom is getting him one!!!

Let's All Go To The Lobby . . .

And have ourselves a tall cold pint o' Guinness! My team of Vinnie, Badger, Burger, and Sammy, we took a miserable sixth place in Quizo last night. Of course, we then drowned our sorrows in shots of Jameson, Grape Vodka, and something blue. Not the best idea for yours truly, who had court this morning! Tired and hung over, I made it to court, and we received a continuance until October.

Time spent in court: 19 minutes.

Overtime earned: 4 hours. Automatic for a day off.

Life is good.

Life "should" be even better in a few hours, as our Verizon DSL kit has arrived. Unfortunately, I know as much about computers and program installation as I do about writing, so it is going to be a long day. Some of my computer geek blog buddies (Anti-Hippie, Rachel, et al) better be around to answer my simian-like questions.

Wish me luck.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

That Thing Got A Hammy?

With all due respect to Big White Hat, I am laughing my arse off about this story:

IRVING, Texas - Terrell Owens reaggravated his left hamstring injury when he returned to practice last week for the Dallas Cowboys and almost certainly will miss his third straight preseason game.

"It's frustrating, but it's not where I need it to be to play and perform like I need to," Owens said Wednesday. "So at this point, I'm going to be smart about it."

Asked if he could play if this was the regular season, Owens said, "I doubt it, not the way I need to play."

As The Simpsons' Nelson Muntz would say, "HA, HA!"

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Derelict In My Duty

Heh, heh, I said "duty." In the time I have deluded myself into thinking this is a serious blog, I have missed exactly 6.43 opportunities to post pictures of hot babes. Ooo, here's one!

Martina Hingis = Yummy-licious!

Ooo, here's another one!

Fabulous softball babe Jennie Finch

Hold it! Houston, we have a hottie!

And, finally, Jessica Gower from Blade: The Series. I told you guys that it was a great show!

Blogging For Dummies

Recently, it has occurred to me that I've had a hand in the creation of quite a few blogs. By my count, The Deep End, First With Flair, Grim Musings, Pay Heed To The Geek, Public Pondering, and The Temerity of High Maintenance were all helped along by my meaty shoving hands. I take no credit - or blame - for their creation, but it got me thinking, "Hey, I should post a self-help guide for new bloggers." The short version is enclosed below: five easy rules to help you become a blog superstar! This will be my gift to humanity. Enjoy!

Obtain A Catchy Blog Name.

When signing up at Blogger, they ask you to name your blog. The creation of a Catchy Blog Name is of the utmost importance! No one will want to read a blog entitled "Painful Rectal Itch" or "Stuff I Picked Out Of My Ears." You need something with pizazz, like the title of a truly awful James Garner/Suzanne Pleshette film.

Use A Gimmick.

Every blogger needs a gimmick to call their own. That certain something that keeps the rubes, er, dear readers, coming back. Make it a weekly event, like a Caption Contest or a Show Me Your Cans Day. You know, get the readers involved.

Catch Phrases Are Crucial.

Like The Tick's battle cry of "Spoon!," every blog needs a catch phrase. Fmragtops calls stupid people "Motherf**kers." I prefer to call folks "Asshats." Find something that fits your style and go with it. Be creative.

WWPHD? What Would Paris Hilton Do?

What Would Paris Hilton Do? She would hump every reader that visits your new blog. But, she would also whore like nobody's business. Send e-mails to your friends about your new venture. Spray paint your url on highway billboards. Hell, you can even sponsor terrorism. "This bombing as brought to you by FIAR."

Finally, Give The People What They Want.

In my case, people want fresh, funny posts all the time. Thankfully, their wishes mean nothing to me. As a new blogger, you need to check out your core demographic - in Big White Hat's case, it would be gun-toting, death penalty supporting, beer swilling grandmothers over ninety-five - and seize upon it. If you get comments demanding naked pictures of Bea Arthur, oblige them. If you get requests for nuclear power plant blueprints, post them. If you get someone that's a fan of SYLG, ban them.

See how easy it is? So, come one, come all! If I can do it, a three-year old chimpanzee can.

Monday, August 21, 2006

Blasted By Friendly Fire

One of the first things I learned when I was promoted is that in my squad, you'd better have a thick skin. Luckily for me, I have a lot of skin - it's just all around my midsection. There has never been a more vile collection of ball breakers, scum, and villainy than those who surround me at the division. And I write that with pride.

I figured someone would come attack me after I returned from Arizona. Why? Because the day before I left, I attacked the shortest member of our circle of death: Adam. Using the prankster's bible - Photoshop - I pasted his face over Will Ferrell's from the Elf movie poster. The work of art turned out great, and everyone laughed at Adam's expense. It was classic!

Later that day, I got a phone call on the golf course. It was Adam, and he was declaring a fatwa on me. Sweet! I pictured Mills Lane yelling, "Let's get it on!" The next thing I know, I am landing in Philly from a fabulous trip to Arizona, and I forgot all about my mischief.

Until today.

I am working the front desk, and I hear the squad laughing in the other part of the room. When I look over, everyone looks away, so I know something is coming. Adam is all smiles and walks over bearing a gift: a copy of a Photoshop. It is the cover of People Magazine where Lance Bass tells the world, "I'm gay." But instead of Lance's face, some wiseass posted mine on Lance's body.

Live by the sword, die by the sword.

The Photoshop was so good, that I had to laugh out loud. I tried to scan it to show everyone, but the quality sucked arse. Trust me, it was really funny! Later, I found out that Adam was not the culprit - it was "Clancy." He said it was retaliation for me calling him "Cracker-Ass Clancy" which - the week before - a complainant called him over the phone. Damn, I forgot all about that, too!

Oh well, what are ya gonna do? Clancy . . . it's on!

Imagine this cover photo with my face instead of Lance's.

"Break" Out The Party Favors!

Prison Break returns tonight!

When we last left our anti-heroes, they were running through the countryside with Bellick and his shotgun-wielding guards in hot pursuit. T-Bag was trying to keep up, sans hand, courtesy of crime boss John Abruzzi. Dr. Sara was dead of a heroin overdose . . . or was she? And Veronica found the President’s dead brother very much alive.

Word on the street is that a major character will be killed off in the season premiere, which sucks because every character on Prison Break has likeable qualities. Well, except maybe Bellick. In my opinion, it’s one of the best five shows on television.

Don’t expect any posting between 8pm and 9pm tonight. I’ll be busy.

Sunday, August 20, 2006

The Amazing Race

I just found out that I am a racist. After posting about soon-to-be-former Philadelphia Police Recruit Howard Neil, Jr., someone posted a comment that I am a racist, even though I simply posted excerpts from the Philadelphia Daily News article. The article, as well as my post, never mentioned the race of Mr. Neil or the reporter, and I never mentioned mine. The commenter then wrote, “A racist cop. What a shock.”

Wow. How could I have been deluded for so long? How could I not know that I am a racist? I mean, who knows me better than me? I don’t know how this slipped under my radar, but since this anonymous commenter sees it after reading just one post, it must be fairly obvious.

What do I do now? Should I feel any different? Do I have to find some white sheets?

Actually, in retrospect, all of the signs were there. I am a white male, which means that I must be a racist. I am a police detective, and we all know that every cop is a racist and a bigot. I am a NASCAR fan, and everyone knows that NASCAR fans are rednecks, as well as racists and bigots. Hell, I am so close-minded that I don’t even have any African-American children! Oh my God, I AM a racist!!!

Please, can someone out there help me? I work in a primarily African-American neighborhood with African-American detectives. What if they find out? How do I “snow” my co-workers and the community? Wait a minute, snow is white. I just made a racist statement! Should I just apologize to everyone up front? Do I need to pay reparations for my transgressions? I am so very sorry!

If you folks do not want to visit SYLG anymore, I’ll understand.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

Just The Carfax, Ma'am

Junior, pitting before his controversial victory.

Wow, this is really gonna sound hypocritical, but I love Dale Earnhardt, Jr. Junior won today's Carfax 250 at Michigan International Speedway by spinning Carl Edwards out of the way with two laps to go. Normally, spinning another driver to get to Victory Lane is shunned here at SYLG, but since Dale, Jr. has been on his best behavior as of late, it was nice to see some of his father in him.

Junior had been battling Edwards and Robby Gordon - whom I despise - during the final laps. After a caution, the three lined up for the restart, and in the middle of the turn it appeared that Edwards got loose. (That's the announcers talking, not me.) Junior got into the back of Edwards' car, spinning him out of contention. The caution came out, and Earnhardt took the checkered flag.

When Earnhardt got out of his car, he was greeting with deafening boos from the Michigan crowd. It didn't seem to bother him, and I was reminded of a classic Dale Earnhardt, Sr. moment: "I'd rather they boo than not make any noise at all."

For those of you with long memories, I usually rip Tony Stewart and Kevin Harvick for such "redneck" moves. I have no other explanation for not ripping Junior, other than I like the guy. I guess I'm a hypocrite. Sorry.

Oh, by the way, Tiger Woods is currently kicking arse and taking names at the PGA Championship. NICE!

Pimpin' Ain't Easy

Here are a few blog links to get you through your weekend.

Unlike Fidel Castro, GOP and the City’s Weekend Caption Contest is up and running. Post your entry now. Or later, since he won’t be back until Monday, 8/28.

RT has a unique contest going on over at Public Pondering. Limericks. I’m not kidding. Stop by and take a shot, but don’t bother with “The Man from Nantucket,” I already tried that one. Heh.

Stella Piccolo – she’ll always by “Pandy” to me – has found a half-decent server, and is back to blogging (from Italy) on a regular basis. I’m going to ask her to ship me some dirt from the Coliseum floor, preferably stained with the blood of a gladiator.

Deathlok has an astute hockey observation here.

Tomorrow is the last day to ask me your questions for Basil's Interview. Fire away here.

Stupid Questions

How can Donovan “Overrated” McNabb possibly say the Eagles are a Super Bowl team with a straight face?

Why do reporters identify high-profile killers by their middle name? How many times can I hear about John Mark Karr?

What moron thought it would be a good idea to have Paris “I’m A Whore” Hilton be the spokesperson for abstinence? That’s like someone picking SYLG as the spokesperson for entertaining blogs!

How can Philadelphia Mayor John Street call for an ethics inquiry into (soon to be “former”) city information officer Dianah Neff’s new job offer - she just gave a lucrative city contract to her new company – but in the same breath say, “She didn’t do anything illegal?

Friday, August 18, 2006

Bonjour, Commander Frog!

As I wrote previously, the French "military" decided to only send twenty officers and about two hundred "troops" to Lebanon to participate in the United Nations peacekeeping force. Who so few?

Top Ten Reasons France Scaled Back Their Military Commitment.

10. Still exhausted from watching the Tour de France.
9. They don't respect the United Nations either.
8. August is Jerry Lewis History Month.
7. Too busy naming another street after a cop killer.
6. Were waiting for Dr. Phat Tony's answers.
5. They all had tickets to Snakes on a Plane.
4. They didn't want to piss off Germany.
3. French soldiers are afraid of guns.
2. Misread "U.N. Peacekeeping" as unpeacekeeping, so they stayed home.

And the number one reason France scaled back their military commitment is . . .

1. Cotton shortage meant that there weren't enough white flags for everyone.

An Important Message

(This week's PIH is below.)

Little Miss Chatterbox sent me an e-mail today asking why there weren't any new posts. I thought she was screwing with my head since I posted four times yesterday, but she said that when SYLG came up, the last post with the Blogger comments was at the top of the page.

I think the switch to Haloscan may have had something to do with it, and I hope this hasn't been a problem for anyone else. If so, make sure you refresh the screen/link. The URL hasn't changed, but I wanted to enter the 21st Century with a more sophisticated comment/trackback system. Haloscan is just that.

Thanks again for all of your support.

And, yes, I will be posting again today. Stay tuned.

People I Hate

Arizona Drivers

My friend Kevin told me that the drivers in his state sucked arse, but I had no idea how right he was. Maybe I am spoiled by "city livin'," but the lackadaisical attitude of the dopes behind the wheel there were enough to make me drink and drive . . . and shoot heroin. Here's a tip: when the speed limit says "75," MOST OF US ARE DOING 95!!! And while we're on the subject, if you're not doing at least the speed limit on I-10 - which is only two lanes wide between Phoenix and Tucson - GET OUT OF THE PASSING LANE!!!

France

Like I need a reason. The French dropped the ball again in the military arena, after they reneged on their promise to send U.N. peacekeeping troops to Lebanon. Instead, the frogs will send approximately twenty (20) officers and two hundred "soldiers" to the region. Now, I won't crucify Pierre for screwing the U.N., but after everything this fraud country has done since their asses were rescued from Hitler's Germany, why hasn't the rest of the world publicly shunned them?

Russia

Okay, everyone who thinks Russia is our ally please stand up. (Cue sound of crickets.) Speaking of a country who should be shunned, how in the hell is a country that funnels arms to Iran, Syria, and Hezbollah a member of the U.N. SECURITY COUNCIL??? That would be akin to placing me in charge of Up With People. Whether the rest of the world realizes it or not, Russia is still hella-pissed that the West won the Cold War, and there are enough hard-liners left in the former Soviet Union that are holding a grudge. What better way to get even than supplying our current enemies. If only they would have saved their weapons, maybe they could eradicate their own internal terror problems. Idiots.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Battlestar Galacticsimpsons

I dearly wish more of my readers would watch The Sci-Fi Channel's Battlestar Galactica. Not only is it one of the best shows on television, but you would also think that these are the funniest cartoons you have seen in a very long time. This one of Starbuck still has me laughing!

(Hat Tip: Randal Graves)

A Two-Year Old "Man"

GOP and the City is two years old today!

That's right, the home of Weekend Caption Contests, sarcastic Al Gore logos, and Cynthia McKinney excuses is having a birthday. Stop by and help him blow out the candles.

A JonBenet Conundrum

This post will probably be blog suicide, but I have to get this off my chest.

As I write this, I am listening to Glenn Beck pour out his Irish guilt about the JonBenet Ramsey case. Now that a former teacher allegedly admitted the despicable crime, Beck told his listeners he feels guilty about blaming JonBenet's parents - especially the recently deceased mother, Patsy.

Get ready to leave this blog forever. Ready? Here it comes . . .

Patsy Ramsey was a despicable woman, and deserves none of Beck's guilt (or anyone else's for that matter).

It is a shame that she had to endure the brutal murder of her young daughter. I would never wish that of anyone. It is a shame that she died of cancer before her daughter's (alleged) murderer was brought to justice. It is a shame that she died knowing that most Americans thought she murdered her own child.

Having said all that, she didn't give many people much reason to believe in her or her husband's innocence. John Ramsey contaminated the crime scene by moving JonBenet's body. Patsy Ramsey's handwriting was very similar to that on the ransom note, and both were less than convincing when interviewed about the crime.

And on top of that, what kind of mother parades around her six-year old daughter covered in makeup and dressed like a porn star? Who enters their child in a pageant entitled "Colorado State All-Star Kids Cover Girl?"

Simply put, Patsy Ramsey was reliving her past beauty pageant glory through her child's eyes. In my opinion, she was one of those parents who push their kids into something they want to do, despite the child's thoughts and views on the matter. JonBenet never (allegedly) refused to participate in these pageants, but then again, what child wants to disappoint a parent?

It appears that Patsy and Jon Ramsey will be vindicated - which is a good thing - but don't think for one second that you have to feel guilty for suspecting them.

Blinq-y Dinks

Dan Rubin, of The Philadelphia Inquirer, mentioned SYLG's "Orlando To America: Get Bent!" post in today's edition of Blinq. You can check it out here if you so desire. He even posts the comments from SK and Fmragtops.

Of course, since his link to SYLG in the article isn't working, I guess my Site Meter won't benefit from the mention. Dang.

Editor's note: Mr. Rubin kindly fixed the SYLG link.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

PPD: Hiring The Best & The Brightest

It appears that this man (pictured) could have been backup to some poor Philadelphia Police Officer. Check out this story from The Philadelphia Daily News:

Recruit Canned For Alleged Talk
by Kitty Caparella

"Police recruit Howard Neil, Jr, upset with classmates, yesterday warned that he would 'make the Police Academy like Columbine,' police said."

Sweet. So, he would get the Broncos here, make the air thinner and have it snow all winter?

"Neil's alleged remark, made in reference to the contents of his gym bag, prompted police to notify the bomb squad and evacuate Valor Hall, a prefabricated building near the main Police Academy on Red Lion Road near Academy."

Wrong, jackass! The 8th District is there. The Police Academy is on State Road, you talentless shrew! Damnit, I hate it when they don't get their facts straight!

"Police confiscated Neil's gym bag and took him into custody about 11:50am. The bag was being examined, police said."

Okay, deodorant, hand grenades, nail clippers, a Mac-10, afro sheen, machete, a copy of Big 'Uns, armor-piercing rounds, and transcripts from SYLG. Nah, nothing out of sorts here.

"Neil, 26, of Pine Street near 48th, was charged with making terroristic threats. He could not be reached for comment yesterday. He had been expected to graduate late next month in a class of 112, including officers for the Police Department, SEPTA, and Temple University, but now he will be dismissed, police said."

Really? Ya think??

Stories like this are (obviously) the bane of the department. Unfortunately, they are becoming more and more common, because hiring standards are so low. Hey, they hired me, remember? Many recruits are borderline illiterate, and only looking to collect a paycheck, which puts the good cops in a real pickle. Nowadays, the Philadelphia Police Department is not looking for the best and the brightest: it is looking for certain demographics which will satisfy their politically-correct quotas.

There, I said it.

Orlando To America: Get Bent!

"What the f**k are you lookin' at, jerkass?"

A survey in the latest issue of Men’s Health magazine found that Orlando, Florida – the home of Disneyworld – is the angriest city in America.

As a citizen of Philadelphia, I am highly offended. Not only was my hometown not listed as number one, but it didn’t even make the top ten! Erroneous! Erroneous! As of this posting, Philadelphia is approaching its 250th homicide. (We’re on pace for at least 400 by the end of the year.) This is the city that booed Santa Claus. This is the city that brutally beats opposing fans at Eagles games. This is the city that bombed – and subsequently burned down – an entire neighborhood! What more do we have to do to get a little recognition?

Hell, take a look at the bloggers that are in the vicinity of the Philadelphia metropolitan area. I have a weekly post entitled People I Hate, Fitch regularly berates other bloggers who send him a meme, Bob despises liberals and hippies, and Grimjack is just plain ornery! Now some jackass survey conducted by some other jackasses is gonna tell us that we’re not angry enough? Screw you!

Listen, you Orlando punk bitches, you think you guys are angry? How about you bring your dumb asses north? I’ll give you a taste of home-cooked bile and a tall, cool glass of shut the hell up! Oh, and Men’s Health, F**K YOU!

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

And Now, A Message For The Men

"Wow, I can almost feel it growing!"

Are you worried that the ladies will “refuse delivery” of your tiny “package?” Do you constantly tell your partner that you were just in a pool? Would you like women to stop comparing your member to a plantain? I can relate.

Hello, my name is Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, and I am here to tell you about Enzyte, the world’s foremost leader in natural male enhancement. For years, I had to deal with lovers snickering under their burkas when I disrobed. And believe me, when you look like Bronson Pinchot, the babes are yours for the taking. I got so angry when my one true love asked if I had a half a roll of Mentos in my pocket that I swore it would never happen again. My embarrassment became so severe that I overcompensated in the political arena.

Why do you think I talk about nuclear missiles so often?

Before I tried Enzyte, I was hung like a woman. When the elders joined the Ayatollahs in the sauna, I always kept my towel on. Hell, I was even judged Least Likely to Satisfy a Woman at this year’s Enemy Awards! I mean, losing to Kim Jong Il? What the hell is that? Now, I simply rub the salve on my dingus (and rub, and rub . . . ) twice a day, sit back, and await the girth! After three weeks, it almost touches my underwear! Thanks, Enzyte! I have never been so happy!

So, if you want to add a little motion to your ocean, give the good folks at Enzyte a call. Tell them Mahmoud sent you.

Monday, August 14, 2006

Yes! Yes! Oh, God, Yes!

My first Trackback! Many thanks to Basil from Basil's Blog for being the first one to utilize my Haloscan Trackback - for my Lesser Of Two Weasels post. Quite a feat since I haven't posted anything even remotely entertaining in about a week.

Now, if someone could only explain Trackback to me . . .

Oh, and you only have six days left to submit a question for my Basil Interview. Let's go, people!

The Pima Air And Space Museum

Do you think if I kick these things, they'll explode?

Wow, That Was Fast!

Hezbollah guerrillas attacked an Israeli position in Lebanon early this morning, violating the proposed U.N. cease fire. Well, it was a few good minutes, anyway. Luckily, comedy like this almost writes itself.

Top Ten Things That Lasted Shorter Than The Cease Fire

10. The Chevy Chase Show.
9. Rachel's first blog. ZING!
8. Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee's marriage.
7. Helen Thomas' youth.
6. The Philadelphia Phillies' playoff chances.
5. Dr. Phat Tony's popularity. POW!
4. Cindy Sheehan's "fast."
3. My diet.
2. Paris Hilton's virginity.

And the number one thing that lasted shorter than the cease fire is . . .

1. Hugh Hefner's Viagra-induced erection.

Sunday, August 13, 2006

Tucson Tales, Part III

Any trip to Tucson requires a visit to Tombstone. We decided to make the trek the day after we arrived, since a nameless blogger really wanted to go. Kevin and Deanna said it was about a ninety minute ride. They weren’t kidding. The first thing I noticed was that the town is in the middle of nowhere. How settlers found this site boggles the mind.

Although it was a cloudy day, I was assured by our hosts that “It never rains in Arizona.” I doubted their mantra as we exited our vehicle. It was cold and overcast. Not the best conditions to see the O.K. Corral gunfight re-enactment. Kevin again told me not to worry.

Editor’s note: When Kevin tells you not to worry, you’d better worry.

The town, although plastered with stores and shops, is teeming with realism. Cowboys and lawmen walk the streets in 1880’s attire, and the sidewalk is still just a stretch of boards. The street is covered in dirt, but in a move right out of Philly government, some jackass thought it would be nice to pave over the original street. The townspeople revolted, and dirt was put back on top of the asphalt. Idiots.

Kevin showed us where the gunfights would take place, and just as I was getting excited, the skies opened up. Good one, God. The monsoon pelted the town for our entire visit. No gunfights, no clear pictures, no gunfights! Damnit.

While we didn’t get to see shots fired, the history buff in me was more than satisfied. We toured The Birdcage, the town theater which is the only building in town that was not restored. Everything inside is exactly as it was in 1880 and the tour guide showed us bullet holes in the walls and ceiling, courtesy of some rowdy cowboys.

We also checked out The Oriental, where Wyatt Earp dealt Faro, and Big Nose Kate’s Saloon. Kevin bought an awesome wooden sign for the space above his fireplace that read, “Tombstone Territory Cemetery,” and I talked the wife into letting me buy an artist’s print of Wyatt, Morgan, Virgil, and Doc Holliday walking to the O.K. Corral on that fateful day.

All in all, it was a terrific day – even with the rain.

The Lesser Of Two Weasels

So, I'm watching the NASCAR race this afternoon - it was a road course, so they turned left and right! - and at the final lap, SYLG faves (Sarcasm Alert!) Kevin "Punkass" Harvick and Tony "Fat Boy" Stewart were battling it out. I found myself praying to Jobu for a two-car wreck, because Jamie McMurray - who I like - was in third. Unfortunately, I did not offer Jobu cigars and rum, and Harvick took the checkered flag.

Witnessing a battle between Kevin Harvick and Tony Stewart is kind of like figuring out who you would rather make love to; Hillary Clinton . . .

or Helen Thomas.

Either way, you lose.

Anarchy In The U.N.

You just gotta love the United Nations. The world’s most inept, corrupt, useless organization has brainstormed a cease fire for the Israelis and Hezbollah. This deal would call for an immediate cease fire, and an Israeli withdraw from Lebanon within a week or so. Initial reports have stated that there is no immediate provision for the return of the two kidnapped Israeli soldiers. As the Guinness Guys would say, “BRILLIANT!”

Maybe I’m a little slow, but wasn’t the kidnapping the entire reason for the war?

The thing that gets me is that Lebanon and Hezbollah have “grudgingly accepted” the terms. Grudgingly? You guys are getting your asses kicked! You should be kissing the U.N.’s proverbial ass for this deal! What’s better is the Arab League – a scumbag organization if there ever was one – is upset that the U.N. resolution did not identify Israel as the main attacker.

ARE YOU FRIGGIN’ KIDDING ME???

Let me get this straight: Hezbollah tunneled their way into Israel, kidnapped two Israeli soldiers, and took them back into Lebanon. Israel responded with air and ground attacks. Am I missing something here? WHAT THE FRAK DO YOU EXPECT THEM TO DO???

It is my sincere hope that Israel tells the U.N. to go frak itself, and continues to bomb Lebanon back to the Stone Age. Maybe after their country turns to rubble, the government there will oust Hezbollah for good. Otherwise, the terrorist scum will continue their mission: to eradicate Israel from the face of the earth. And the cease fire will turn out to be a joke – much like the organization which produced it.

Saturday, August 12, 2006

The Return Of Deathlok

DEATHLOK'S BACK!!!

And he has sad news about Moon. Please stop by and wish him and his family well. Oh, and welcome him back to the blogosphere! Thanks.

Hey, Waterboy!

Get out there! The Moonbat needs you!

I'm still laughing about this one:

Sheehan Treated for Dehydration in Texas.

"Waco (It should read, "Whacko"), Texas - Anti-war demonstrator Cindy Sheehan was hospitalized Friday evening for dehydration and exhaustion after fasting for more than a month and protesting earlier this week in 100-degree weather, friends and relatives said."

First of all, Cindy, no one - not even the stormtrooping liberals of the Democratic Party - gives a rat's ass about you or your cause anymore. The Dems didn't care, either, but you were their cause celebre of the moment. Your son is dead - and that is a shame - but the rest of your family - who is very much alive - would probably like their mother back.

Then again . . .

Second of all, if you don't have the common sense to stop this ridiculous hunger strike - that is impressing no one - in the midst of Texas' 100-degree heat, then you deserve to spend time in a hospital. Hey, I willingly went to Arizona in August. If I was stung by a scorpion after walking around barefoot, who's fault is that? Ass.

Thank you, little baby Jesus, for proving once again that moonbats don't have a brain in their tiny, little heads.

Friday, August 11, 2006

A Tucson Top Ten

The keen vacation photos aren't downloaded yet, so I figured I'd throw in a Tuscon Top Ten at the start of the weekend - because no one reads blogs on the weekend, anyway, right?

Top Ten Things I Learned In Tucson

10. It's a dry heat, but it's still hot as hell.
9. Our hosts, OKev and Deanna, bicker a lot!
8. Three stores in a row somehow classify as a mall.
7. Tucson has many "rivers" - and they're all dry!
6. Tarantulas will walk right up to you when you're sitting outside.
5. Cheap tequila - not Don Julio - is nasty.
4. I still can't beat OKev in Madden 2006.
3. It never rains there - until you go to Tombstone.
2. The hot salsa there will melt your insides. "It tastes like burning!"

And the number one thing I learned in Tucson is . . .

1. Scorpions are much smaller than I imagined, but I still wet myself when one crawled by.

Haloscan Has Been Initialized

commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.

What does this mean? Well, it means that all of the comments posted on this blog for the past fourteen months may be lost forever in cyberspace - unless my unbelievably large brain can figure out how to get them back. And we all know the chances of that. The chances are better that Jessica Biel professes her undying love for me.

Any whoo, it is much easier for those readers who are not members of Blogger to comment here. Hell, even Uncle Ray and OKev can throw in their $0.02 now! What a country!

Now, if I can only find out what happened to the other comments . . .

Bauer2006 Platform #4

Jack Bauer Will Man The Border Fence.

Unlike Hillary Clinton and Ned Lamont, Jack Bauer does not vacillate when it comes to border security. Illegal immigration is a national problem, not just an Arizona or California problem. In that vein, when Jack Bauer is elected U.S. Senator (CT/NY), he has not only promised to build a border fence: he has promised to man it!

The Jack Bauer Plan is two-fold. First, he will lobby (read: beat down any opposition) for a 50-foot high, electrified, razor-wire fence along the entire border - including the east and west coasts. Sorry, surfer hippies, the beaches are now closed! This plan will eradicate illegal immigrants from coming into the U.S. from Mexico, Canada, and the oceans. You never know who or what will wash ashore nowadays.

Second, Jack Bauer will take time out of his busy day - as if U.S. Senators ever do anything productive - to personally man the border fence, armed with a Louisville Slugger and a case of Schlitz. In a classic example of bravado, Jack will also place an Eveready battery on his shoulder, and dare any immigrant to knock it off. Bring it on, immigrants! Jack dares you.

(Cross-posted at Blogs4Bauer.)

People I Hate

It's a very special episode of PIH, as we here at SYLG focus upon today's greatest hypocrites.

America's Islamic Leaders

I touched on this yesterday - to little response - but it still is eating at my insides. Exactly where are the Muslims that have condemned the latest airline terror plot? Where are the "good Muslims" in America's Mecca - Scenic Dearborn, Michigan - that are ripping the Ohio scumbags who were arrested for allegedly helping al Qaeda? And for that matter, where are the American Muslims who have condemned 9-11? I guess the camel's got their tongue.

Oh, and I am still waiting for an American Islamic Leader to step to the plate and denounce the terror attacks around the world. I won't be holding my breath.

Steven Spielberg

You have to hand it to Steven Spielberg; he has the entire planet believing that he is Hollywood's foremost authority on the suffering of the Jews. The director of Schindler's List and countless World War II projects is currently producing a Ukranian Holocaust film slated for later this year. And while Spiel-Nero fiddles, his homeland burns. Like the American representatives of "The Religion of Peace," Spielberg has yet to mention word one about the plight of the state of Israel today. Hell, members of Hezbollah can tunnel across the Israeli border, kidnap two soldiers, and continuously bomb the country, without an eyebrow raised.

I guess Spielberg only cares about the Jews who lived between 1939 and 1945.

The Philadelphia Media

Ah, the Kings of the Hypocrites. Uber-corrupt mayor John Street's reign of terror is due to expire in 2007 - or whenever he gets indicted - and the Philly media is showering the city with their opinions of who is best to lead "their" city. The problem is, most of these media whores do not live within the city limits. Thus, they can pontificate worry-free about skyrocketing taxes, terrible schools, and expensive stadiums they barely paid for with impugnity. Unfortunately, those of us who live inside the city limits have to bear the burden of their liberal rantings. The editor-in-chief of The Philadelphia Daily News, radio talk-show jackass Michael Smerconish, and almost all of the television news media live outside the city. Why should we care who they support for any position affecting my hometown?

Are the media allowed to have an opinion about the city in which they work? Absolutely. Should anyone who lives inside Philadelphia listen? Hell no!

Just Call Me Pimp Daddy

Me and RT "discussing" her new blog endeavor.

Teacher extraordinaire and Friend of SYLG RT has joined the Village of the Damned. She has swallowed the Kool-Aid and created Public Pondering, her new blog. As my loyal minions, it is imperative that you visit and wish her well!

You go now!

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Tucson Tales, Part II

To say that my friend Kevin is a bad influence on my children is an understatement. This is the guy who had my two-year old son shouting "Yee-haaaa!" in a crowded Mexican restaurant last week.

Unfortunately, I had no one to blame but myself for Erik's most recent outburst of creativity.

About halfway through our Tucson vacation, we stopped by Gates Pass to take in some kickass scenery as well as a little local history. Just off the parking lot is a ledge above the valley that overlooks the western part of the state. When I asked Kevin who or what we were looking at, he said we were looking westward toward California. I picked up Kyle, and Kevin picked up Erik for a better view. When we were leaving, I told Erik to say goodbye to the hippies. He waved his hand and said, "Bye hippies!"

A good time was had by all.

Fast forward to this past Tuesday. We were sitting in Phoenix's Sky Harbor Airport waiting for our flight, when another plane was boarding. Erik was watching with interest, and stood at the window when the plane moved toward the runway. In his loudest voice, he screamed, "BYE, HIPPIES!" The missus and I cringed as the people in the terminal glanced at our "precocious" son. As if that weren't bad enough, The Hippies' flight destination?

San Diego, California.

Bauer 2006 Endorsements

Solid Snake

In his heart of hearts, Jack Bauer is a soldier. He has been tested on the battlefields of combat and of life, and has come out of both the better person for it. Jack Bauer is the right man for this - and any - job.

Sure, sometimes Jack lets his emotions get in the way - I remember the time he helped me brutally beat Revolver Ocelot outside an abandoned Russian factory - but his heart is always in the right place. Jack Bauer fights for freedom, and during that fight, sometimes your hands get dirty (read: bloody).

I heartily endorse my brother in arms for Senator of Connecticut and New York.

(Cross-posted at Blogs4Bauer.)

Enough Is Enough

"The Religion of Peace," my ass!

If you take just one thing away from this post, I would hope it will be this:

ISLAM IS AMERICA'S ENEMY.

"LONDON - British authorities said Thursday they thwarted a terrorist plot to simultaneously blow up several aircraft heading to the U.S. using explosives smuggled in carry-on luggage."

And, surprise, surprise, the plotters are believed to be of Muslims of Pakistani origin. They are not elderly Irish-American women. They are not children from the Czech Republic. They are young, Islamic males! These scumbags will not rest until every one of us - liberal or conservative, young or old, male or female - is dead!

I know what you're thinking: "Wyatt, not all Muslims are evil." That may or may not be true, but if it is not, then where are the American Muslims today? Show me the outrage. Show me the condemnation. Show me the good Muslims that love and support this country.

You can't.

And do you know why? Because I believe that they put their religion before anything else in their lives. I believe that they think when the rapture comes to our shores, they will be spared, and they don't give a pig's arse about what happens to the infidels. I believe that they know that World War III is coming - if it is not already here - and they want to straddle the fence. If the free world wins, they can claim their silence was out of fear. If Islam wins, they can gleefully come back to the fold. Either way, until I hear from someone - anyone - from the American Muslim community, I will consider them my enemy.

Tucson Tales, Part I

(Well, I should probably get started on boring everyone with my trip to Arizona. Some of the anecdotes will have to wait until I get the appropriate photos downloaded to the computer, but this one can start us off.)

The missus bought our tickets through America West Airlines. Whatever she did, I did not want to fly with U.S. Air. I despise that company after many bad experiences. About a week or two before the trip, we found out that those rat bastards at Useless Air bought out America West. Swell.

We got to Philly International at 7am for a 10:15 flight. I heard horror stories about the security checks, so I wanted us to be as early as possible. We came to the checkpoint and surprisingly, everyone was very friendly. The only time anyone spoke was when one TSA member said that it may be better if the wife and I took off our shoes before going through the metal detector. (The kids had their open-toed sandals on - because you want to smell feet in a small, enclosed space.) We did, and passed with flying colors. Very punny.

The great thing about kids is that they let you board first with the snobs in First Class. I wanted to be one of those snobs, but the wife nixed that idea right away. "Too much money," my arse! Kyle and I had the two seats nearest the aisle, the wife and Erik were across from us. Our window seat was open. Kyle wanted the window desperately, but I told him that someone paid for it.

That someone was a vapid, blonde, tattooed bimbo from California.

This broad was "dressed" in a sleazy tank top and short shorts. It looked like she would be the in-flight entertainment. Normally, I wouldn't mind, but my frakkin' kids were there! She looks at me, then Kyle, rolls her eyes, and says, "Um, could you guys slide over? I don't really like the window seat."

Then, why the hell did you pay for the window seat, jerkass?!

Kyle's eyes lit up, and I cringed. I said to the broad, "My son is five, and it's a four-hour trip. He'll probably get up to use the bathroom a dozen times." She said that was okay, so I relented. We were in the air for about an hour when it happens: "Dad, I have to go to the bathroom." Here we go.

When I told the broad that Kyle had to go, she sighed loudly and said, "Okay." We shuffled out of the seats and went to the rear of the plane. The bathroom was in the front, but Kyle tinkled in the beverage cart. Kidding. When we returned, she gave us another dirty look, and let us back into our seats.

About an hour later, Kyle said, "Dad, I have to go to the bathroom." I told the bimbo and she looked at me and gave me a muffled, "Whew!" Resisting the urge to murder her, I took Kyle to the back again. We came back and she rolled her eyes as we returned to our seats.

Look, I know when some people see a kid on a plane, they fear the worst. For the record, Kyle hardly made a sound, and watched Star Wars DVD's with me for most of the flight. When you're five, your bladder is smaller than that of some blow-dried, hippie whore.

Right about now, her body is buried at the foot of the Catalina Mountains.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Keeping My Pimp Hand High

The jet lag hindered my pimping ability for a spell, but here are some news items of note:

Blogs4Bauer - where I also post - is the home of Bauer 2006. Jack's run for Senate in both Connecticut and New York. Yeah, that's right! Do you want to tell him he can't do it?

Pandy from What Panda? is back! Stop by and see how big her preggers belly is getting! Or, just ask her how one female can be so fertile. I sent her an e-mail, and I think she got knocked up!

Don't go too far away! I'll be posting more this evening!

Happy Anniversary!

Today I want to wish my lovely bride a happy wedding anniversary. It has been nine pointless years. I kid, I kid! About this time nine years ago, we were sweating to death during outside pictures. I mean, who schedules an AUGUST wedding in Philadelphia? I guess I do. Any whoo, I just wanted to thank the missus for not leaving me . . . yet.

I'd post our wedding photo, but the last time I posted her picture, I caught hell for it. Oh well.

I'm Back, Baby!

(Sounds of "Who gives a rat's ass?" echo the blogosphere.)

Arizona was friggin' great! The clan had a terrific time, and we only had encounters with one tarantula and two scorpions. Not too bad, if you ask me. I'll fill everyone in with specific anecdotes as the week proceeds, scattered in between the usual drivel you have all come to cherish here.

I wanted to give a special laurel and hearty handshake to The CUG, Fmragtops, and Sssssteve for minding the store while I was getting sunburned. Thanks guys! And I also wanted to thank my readership for stopping by while these lunatics were trashing the house. Appreciate it.

Blogger is scheduled to go down in moments, but I will definitely post much more today. I gotta get back into writing shape, and check the news wires. The only TV Kevin and I watched there was ESPN and the NFL Network. (Although I heard Israel is kicking Lebanon's ass again!)

Parenting Tip #674

If your child is in the double-digit age range, and has an IQ in the room temperature range or higher, and can't read an analog clock or watch, you are not doing your job as a parent.

"I can't read it because it doesn't have numbers..."

Sheesh.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

My last Hurrah!

Okay, its tuesday 3 pm PST so that is what, 6 pm EST. So tomorrow will be Wyatt's triumphant return to his blog. Oh Crap, that means I got to get this place cleaned up! So here are 10 things I need to get cleaned up before Wyatt returns:

10. There are guiness bottles everywhere, and I don't even drink
9. Doc took Jill home, said she was too pretty to eat, now I got to go around and be the pooper scooper
8. Cug is passed out by the pool, so I got to get him cleaned up and going
7. fix the door lock Tyler was trying his new "key bumping" on
6. Rachel has got some lawyers beat down in the back yard, and there is blood on the patio.
5. Fiar has stomped so many hippies in the front lawn that it looks like one big tie dye shirt.
4. That crazy alien Remulak left something in the toilet I think I'm going to need an EPA suit for
3. Somebody toilet papered the front trees
2. I've got to pick up all the pepsi bottles laying around and fix Wyatt's bed that I was sleeping in.
And the number one thing I got to do before Wyatt returns is......

Get Fmragtops to quit chasing that neighbor lady with only his chaps and spurs on!

Rural Assault Vehicle

I'll bet those phancy pholks in Philly don' t have one of these!!!

Someday the Philly PD will catch up to superior Ohiya technology.

Until then, you'll just have to wait for Wyatt to show up on a golf cart with weak batteries.

Heh. Notice the Guinness cooler strapped down by the seat.
And yes, I'm pretty sure chicks dig Rural Assault Vehicles...
(Here is a babe with a gun for Cowboy Blob.)







Thanks to brother smike for the mower picture.

Monday, August 07, 2006

Hail Mary Post.

I've got nothing today.
So, here's a post with a gun!

Hooray!! Gun Pr0N!!

You know, for a cop and self-professed gunslinger, I notice this site has a pronounced lack of firearms pictures and information on it.
That needs to change, hence this lovely picture of a Glock 21.
It is a 45, and will drop a Philly perp in a heartbeat.
It also comes in the Glock 21C model, which has integral compensation built in, to reduce muzzle flip.

Of course, this allows for faster second-shot target acquisition, which is important when dealing with violent perps, and/or multiple dirty commies.

It also has high capacity (13 + 1 rounds), for when the S really HTF!!
Trigger pull is a little heavy, but that is ok for defensive weapons, to help prevent premature ejection of projectiles.

I give it two thumbs up, and highly recommend it for police who are still stuck with the underpowered 9mm. Sure, they hold a gazillion shots, but they just piss-off people wearing body armor!!

Also, this would be a great weapon to use (shameless blog-whoring alert!!!) in the ePostal Give a Rino a Hand contest, this month, at the Conservative UAW Guy's place!!

Plus, remember folks: Chicks dig firearms.

Don't have a trusty sidearm? Go buy one!!!
It's your duty as an American citizen to be armed!!

I mean, you are an American citizen, aren't you?

Sunday, August 06, 2006

Football Season is here!!!

And I'm not talking about gay soccer! And how about those Raiders!!! Whooo Hoooo! Sorry Eagles fans! But it was just a exhibition game, you can't read too much into the game! Except that on that first drive Donovan was making a statement that he didn't need Terrell Owens! It was a pretty sloppy game though! It was neat to see all the Hall of Fame stuff they had through the game especially Madden being inducted! Pretty cool! Go Chiefs!!!

btw, I'm a Mcfly not a slacker!

A Little Fmragtops History

So I posted this at my place, sue me.

Oh look! It's a picture of me doing something stupid!

Maybe I'll go back to bull riding. I get to make my own hours, I won't get paid much less, and chicks dig bull riders.

Lousy Slackers

What the hell? It's Sunday, and it's 9pm on the East Coast. (Luckily, it's 6pm and sunny in Tucson.) Where is today's post, you ask? I don't friggin' know, since the Triumvirate of Evil obviously doesn't work on the Sabbath!

Come on, ladies! You only have three days left to wreck my blog!!!

BTW, I just got back from seeing Talladega Nights. Funny, funny stuff!

Saturday, August 05, 2006

People I Dislike Friday

Hey it's still Friday here so, better late than never! I know, I know, Jimmy and fmragtops already did one a piece but I will not be denied!!! I have been accused of being a "Sasquatch" which is pretty close to being right. And since I've eaten everyone that I hate well, there are just people I dislike left now. So here goes:

Michael "Fatty" Moore: I can't hate him, since there is too much to eat there, even for me! How can people hear anything out of this morons mouth and not know it's a lie! That man comes real close to being hated!

Paul Allen: The owner of the Portland Trailblazers, why can't this idiot be like George Stienbrenner and spend enough money to get real talent here in Portland. This guy is the 6th richest man on the earth! He is worth 22 billion dollars! Come on moron loosen up those purse springs and get it done!!

Anybody that works with you and gets paid the same amount, yet gets Government assistance because of their "ethnicity", then lets you know about all the pot they smoke and beer they drink, yet hit you up for lunch money every Friday!!

Well there you go. No go stomp some hippies!

Something I like:

MMMMM Bacon!!

Friday, August 04, 2006

People I Hate - Fmragtops

My turn to get my PIH on. In keeping with the SYLG tradition, I'll give you my short list of PIH.

Officer Bubba: For obvious reasons.

FIAR: For obvious Reasons

"The Public": For obvious reasons.

jimmyb's "asshat": For obvious reasons.

And now for something completely different - Someone I don't hate: Kate Beckinsale

For obvious reasons.

People I Hate.

Continuing the "People I Hate" tradition in Wyatt's stead, I present to you an infintesimally small list of people I truly hate. And I totally mean that in a Christian way.

1. This asshat. I'm all for executing child-molesters. This SOB should be tortured first.

2. Jack Murtha - Traitor, liar, back-stabber, overall a-hole, and let's be honest, just flat-out homely.

3. John McCain - A whiny, opportunistic, liberal RINO. I met him in Saginaw once, and he came across as pretentious and insincere then, just like he does now. Two thumbs in his eyes down.

4. Ted Rall - Death becomes him; the sooner the better. Obnoxious, traiterous, elitist, stupid, and a shitty cartoonist to boot.

Someone who I do not hate:
Total skater babe, Sasha Cohen; for obvious reasons.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

A filthy lie about Wyatt on vacation

Since I am the last one to wake up, out of the "Triumvirate of Evil" group, I have to follow two great stories. Well I hope you enjoy this one.

While Wyatt was waiting for the bus to take him from Tucson to Tombstone to see the great gunfight of the OK corral, a beautiful young woman wearing a tight leather skirt was waiting for the bus, right in front of him. As the bus stopped and it was her turn to get on, she became aware that her skirt was too tight to allow her leg to come up to the height of the first step of the bus. Slightly embarrassed and with a quick smile to the bus driver, she reached behind her to unzip her skirt a little, thinking that this would give her enough slack to raise her leg. She tried to take the step, only to discover that she couldn't! . So, a little more embarrassed, she once again reached behind her to unzip her skirt a little more, and for the second time attempted the step. Once again, much to her chagrin, she could not raise her leg. With a little smile to the driver, she again reached behind to unzip a little more and again was unable to take the step. About this time, Wyatt who was standing behind her picked her up easily by the waist and placed her gently on the step of the bus. She went ballistic and turned to the would-be Samaritan and screeched, "How dare you touch my body! I don't even know who you are!" Then Wyatt smiled and drawled, "Well, ma'am, normally I would agree with you, but after you unzipped my fly three times, I kind'a figured we was friends."

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Never Underestimate The Stupidity Of Your Fellow Man

Since I've been accused of "slacking" I figgered I'd tell another story about small town 5-0. You've all heard dumb criminal stories, I guess I'll give you a stupid cop story.

I've done lots of things in my life that some might describe as ill-advised. For instance I rode bulls for about six years. Faint of heart, I ain't. To say I have never been afraid isn't entirely accurate. Usually, in bull riding, as in law enforcement, dangerous things go down so fast that fight-or-flight syndrome kicks in and you're not really afraid until after things are over. Very seldom do you have time to think about what's going on, and be afraid while it's happening. There was one time this wasn't the case.

There was once a bar located in one of the municipalities in my parish. See, in Louisiana we have parishes. They are equivalent to what you yankee types call counties. Anyhoo, this bar was a rather seedy establishment. Lots of crimes in that area were carried over from events that took place at that bar. When the bar would close, we would have to go into the city and sit in parking lots to deter the shootings and stabbings, and various other forms of ass-hattery.

The city never really had enough officers to handle this job themselves. I mean, it's not really a "city". It's a town that is incorporated and probably has 6 officers on duty any given night. In addition, for some reason most of the city cops were relunctant to snatch a knot in somebody's head when they were begging for it. We, however, were not.

This bar was located in a predominately african-american section of town, and was frequented almost exclusively by african-americans. Keep in mind that I had been a deputy for about one year. (these point will be material in a moment).

One night, for whatever reason, there was only one officer in that part of town. This officer decide to rub a couple of braincells together and go sit in the parking lot of this bar at closing time to prevent any problems. I guess somebody said something about somebody's momma, and there was some derision amongst the patrons of this establishment. Bubba decides to push the panic button and call in the calvary, so we went in force...err well, 3. If you can call that force. 2 and a half if you don't count the trainee as a whole deputy.

Upon our arrival, we notice that nothing really nasty is ensuing. We broadcast our typical warning with the PA systems, "Leave or go to jail." Everybody is leaving, and nobody is brandishing firearms, or saying ugly things about each other's maternal parent, cool.

Well, I say cool, but it was not to last. One of the bar patrons was playing loud rap music in his car as he was leaving. We had a saying about these kinds of things. It went, "You can whatever you want walking away." Apparently officer Bubba hadn't heard this little pearl of wisdom. Had he ever heard this saying, the following events might have never taken place.

Officer Bubba shouts at the offending patron, "Turn that $#it down, BOY!" Looking back, I'm not sure the patron even heard this. In any event, he didn't turn down his music. Officer Bubba grows a set of oversized gonads and leaps into this guys window for some reason known only to officer Bubba. Did I mention officer Bubba was about 6 feet tall and weighed about a metric ton? Anyhoo, the patron, startled I am sure, punches the gas, and Bubba falls out the window and on to the ground. He shouts into his radio as he lifts his enormous torso off the ground, "Officer Down!" So in a heartbeat we switch from cool observant mode into turbo-whoopass mode. We mount up, and engage in a highspeed pursuit with this suspected illegal whaler through the parking lot, about 20 feet to the South, through the U-turn lane, and maybe 40 feet back to the intersection. Well, I say high-speed pursuit, but we probably never got over 20 mph.

The guy stops, and we initiate felony takedown procedures. In a felony takedown, the suspect is to be proned out, and cuffed from the prone position. This guy wasn't interested in being in a prone position. The closest he got to prone was the front lean and rest (push up) position. One of the other deputies approached the suspect, and kicked one of his hands out from under him, so we could cuff him from the prone position. Now, in defense of the deputy, he didn't kick the guy, he kicked his hand so he'd get prone as procedure dictates. In defense of anybody that wasn't standing right there, there was a lot of loose dirt right there that flew up, and it probably looked like he just got kicked square in the head.

Have you ever been in one of those situations where you just knew $#it was bad and was only gonna get worse? Yeah, me too.

This whips the crowd into a frenzy. They begin to surround us shouting all sorts of things, but honestly, I couldn't hear the crowd. Let me set this scene for you. We were standing in the median of a four lane highway (US 61 to be exact), the crowd surrounded us, and stretched from one shoulder of the highway to the other, and probably six or seven people deep. We were all standing back to back, and the crowd was closing in. Uhhh, the rest of his hit the panic button, and called for some real calvary. I think at one point I said on the radio, "Send everybody. Mobilize the National Gaurd if you can." Yes, I am still a smartass when my life is in danger.

The radio chatter kept me from completely going into brain lock. I could hear everybody signaling that they were en route, and that State Police was coming. I remember hearing one of the troopers saying, "Hang on guys we're enroute." I'm completely in fight-or-flight mode, but the guy in front of me who was threatening to kill me, and completely ignoring the .40 Glock Model 23 pointed at his face asked a really dumb question, "What? You gonna shoot me if I keep walking?" I replied, "Step and find out." He wasn't completely crazy because I have no doubt in my mind that had he taken one more step, he'd be ventilated, and existing at room temperature. God only knows what would have happened after that.

I never heard the sirens. I don't know how much time passed until our back-up got there. This place was way out in the boondocks. It might have been five minutes, or five seconds. I don't remember anything until I heard the action on a Remington 870 12 GA. and the words, "GET THE &&&& BACK!!!" Nothing like a Remington 870 chambering a round to disperse a crowd. That's a sweet sound to the ears. It makes a hostile mob look like a swarm of cockroaches when the lights come on.

The crowd dispersed without further incident. Since we were inside the city, Bubba made the command decision as to what should be done with the offending patron. He wrote him a misdemeanor summons (Like a traffic a ticket) and turned him loose. Bubba, to this day, claims that guy ran over him. WTF? I'm not sure that guy did anything intentionally, but if that's your position, how do you write a summons and let the guy go? Jackass. Lying M'erF'er. That dumbass almost got at least five people killed, and didn't even arrest this guy. I have hated him ever since. That's what we'd call a punk in a cop suit.

I have never been so scared in all my life. Not even the times I got "hung up" in my bullriding days. Not even the time the dealers thouight it would be a good idea to "shoot and scoot" everytime a cop passed. Besides the fact that I might have gotten killed, I was never sure the guy did anything wrong. I mean, when you got a cop screaming like a beyotch, "Officer Down!" you can't very well, not do anything, but still. That's what I have heard described as a "cluster-goat-&&&&" or in radio code, "Charlie-Foxtrot."

I can't say it enough: I have never been so scared in all my life. Heh, then we went back to work.