Sunday, November 26, 2006

If a chicken had a penis it would be a rooster

This article is interesting on a few levels. It seems that Kiev is now Kyiv. Cooking books across the world shudder at the thought. It seems that “Kiev” is the Russian spelling, and the Russian were interlopers in Ukrainian history. So, it is now time to revert to the historical spelling of “Kyiv.” Makes sense to me. Praise W (PBUH) that he has a U.S. Board of Geographic Names with representatives from several government departments, including the State Department, to advise him on such matters. If is it good enough for the Ukrainians, and good enough for that Board thingey, then it is good enough for me.

It is apparently, however, not good enough for the legacy press: the article concludes, “The Associated Press continues to spell the name of the capital Kiev.” Frickin’ a-hole communists.

Speaking of congenital losers, some people always find the tarnish on the silver lining. To wit: “Dark Side of Being Cured of Childhood Cancer.” Thanks, ABC News. You know, maybe there is a downside to being cured of cancer at a young age. It seems obvious that your body will be compromised in some profound manner. But I suspect, somewhere deep down in my bones, I truly believe that the dark side of not being cured is a measure darker.

Quit looking for reasons to be depressed, guys. Life only sucks when you take it for granted. Ask any cancer survivor if they would have preferred losing.

As an aside, I used to be fond of saying, “I think that is a distinction without a difference.” Then about two weeks ago, I thought to myself – was it a difference without a distinction? Did I get the words in the wrong order? Then this evening I was with my best buddy and I told her about my quandary. Miraculously, as soon as I said it, I realized that whether it was a distinction without a difference or a difference without a distinction was really a difference with no real distinction. Or was it a distinction with no real difference? That’s when I gave up.

Speaking of when to give up, Chinese investors should research more. Ants ain’t gonna yield 35% to 60% returns. Some company fraudulently raised $379MM from “gullible members of the public.” That’s like a couple two three gazillion yen. And wait a minute, China – you’re blaming a gullible public? Listen, clowns, it is your job to regulate public offerings. Try controlling your economy in smart ways: care less about how many kids are pumped out by people enjoying themselves and more about white-collar crime that takes hundreds of millions of dollars that you don’t figure out until it is already done. You people are idiots.

Speaking of fraud, leave it to Arkansas to establish that if the number of votes cast for a candidate equals or is greater than 1, then the reported vote totals will be -0-. This dude votes for himself. That’s one vote for him. At least. But the final tally for him was zero. Wanna bet he was a pub?

I found articles on woman cutting off penises whilst the guy was still alive, cutting it off after death as a remembrance, dogs getting married … just ain’t worth deliberating. One thought, though – how come all the penis cutters are women? Do guys, gay or otherwise, just know to keep Mr. Slappy attached no matter how angry they get?

Night …

Friday, November 24, 2006

Happiness is a warm gun

My screensaver is set to cycle through a folder of images on my hard disk. Whenever I come across an image having something to do with The Beatles, I copy it into that folder. I go through spurts of collecting, and presently have 1,115 images.


The images are usually directly related to or of the group, but some images are derivative. Happiness is a Warm Gun I find to be interesting. The same with the coffee cup depicting Blackbird.


I like learning small things about The Beatles. It isn't a quest to be someone that others avoid because he can't quite find a topic other than a musical group that started forming about 50 years ago as The Quarry Men. That would creep me out, too. Speaking of the Quarry Men, I have seen it presented as one word - Quarrymen. But this business card seems definitive to me.




But you know the Abbey Road cover? It was shot in a very tight window of time - on a recording break with the direction to go shoot something. It wasn't planned in detail. So anyway, all this hype about Paul being dead supported by his crossing the road in bare feet. There are several pics available from the session and in some he is wearing sandals. George also had a sport coat and funky red sunglasses.




Did you ever Eleanor Rigby's gravestone? I am writing this on the fly, so forgive me if I get the details wrong, but I think you see this stone in the Free as a Bird video.


(I am trying to compose this post so it will view well with the pics on either side. But I "upgraded" my blog with these guys and some issues are out there - everytime I enter a new pic, it floats to the top; the preview screen doesn't match my blog which is not as wide. So we'll see! I hit "preview" and the pics and text don't lay as I wish ... no worries ...)


I think Jeremy from Yellow Submarine is pretty funny. I have a cel of him from the movie. Not the one pictured here, but a nice one. I think my daughter inherited it from me, but I am not sure. I haven't searched lately, but the cels were not terribly expensive, at least the ones that did not picture any of The Beatles or were otherwise too complex. As a comparison, I am certain the cel below right would be quite expensive.



This next pic is always my favorite of the iron gate of Strawberry Field. I've only seen a few pics having to do with the home for boys.



I always thought that John would have insisted that his name come first - John, Paul, George, then Ringo. Regardless of how early in the group it was, John always seemed to be the one invested in having his way. Wondering about names, I haven't seen much advertising empheria (great word, eh? means collectible paper) that listed Stu Sutcliffe. Here's an interesting advert for a show that lists Pete Best and have John's name not appearing first (I bet Yoko is on the market buying every one she can get her hands on to perserve John's image as the leader of The Beatles).

I wonder what a pristine book of matches from Apple Corps would go for?



There is a whole universe out there of bootleg recordings. For other artists, bootleg is generally limited to recordings of live performances. For The Beatles, bootleg covers an incredible array of studio work. Search the net for sources, but read carefully - few are out there to make a profit, most are interested in just sharing their collection.

I love being able to listen to songs being constructed. I've listened to George saying - "I just wrote this the other day. It still needs a few more words. I call it, 'Beware of Darkness.'" Then he plays a nice acoustic version of it. I've heard several versions of the song over its period of development. Interesting stuff if that turns you on. Sheets like the one below give the backbone to understanding the different recordings sessions.



The shameless marketing practices of the early 1960's never cease to amaze me as I come across the products sold. I never researched because I never cared if The Beatles got their piece of the economic pie on these things. I suspect they did not. I am sure that it was just considered the necessary trade-off of exposure and record sales. But hairspray? Have they (the advert guys) no soul? Well, maybe. Artists performing need their hair in one place. I guess. But talcum powder? No soul whatsoever.

This picture of John and Yoko together as if making love has always disturbed me because he was murdered just several hours later. Their are a bunch of pics from the shoot. This other shot of them standing together is also nice.


This shot of John reading the newspaper has always disturbed me, too, but for different and I presume obvious reasons.



My dad had a printing company years ago. He's dead and the company has since changed hands a couple of times. He printed this advert for the Milk and Honey album. I have an uncut press sheet of it that I will frame someday.


. Ever wonder what the early logos looked like? Yeah, neither did I. Could not care less, actually. Such details are only interesting if it is your life and your business became successful. If I were Steve Jobs, I would interested

in the early Apple Computer logos. If I were Neville Chamberlain, I would be interested in early Nazi empheria (that word again!). You get the idea. The left pic was drawn by Paul. The right pic was, too, and was used on a drum kit

One of my favorite pics for its simplicity. Penny Lane. There is another shot easily found on the net that reads the same but is posted next to the business district that the song discusses. I prefer this shot.


Writing of collectible paper, there is an emerging market out there for sheet music. Seems that a lot exists and a premium is still developing. Got any?


After the Tittenhurst shoot. I thought Linda took those pics? So who was the second photographer?


Last pic for right now. I didn't know this fact until I came across this pic. This shows one fo the cover designs for what became the White Album.

Bye for now.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

864-223-1911 Update 2

UPDATE.

Previous posts on this scam here and here.

From the many comments I have received to the previous posts, it seems that this guy has somehow scammed the Caller ID function. He continues to call around the nation erroneously saying that he is selling Verizon Wireless service and a few closely related products.

I filed formal complaints with the FCC and Pennsylvania AG. I have heard nothing from PA, and what I have heard from the FCC is even more disturbing.

I have received seven e-mails from the FCC. All time-stamped in the 2:00 AM hour, although the precise minute has been different. Here is the full text of the e's: "Re: CIMS00000209571 - Scam in progress. OutgoingFCCInfo@fcc.gov Fri, Nov 3, 2006 at 2:59 AM Reply-To: OutgoingFCCInfo@fcc.gov."

All seven were received in 48-hour increments. The next e was received November 5, then 7, 9, etc.

No text in the body of the e except for my complaint to them.

At least I got a CIMS number, whatever that is.

How sad.

Friday, November 17, 2006

Get your CrackFone today!

Ever been in a strange city with an empty crack pipe? If you had our patent pending CrackFone, you’d be one button away from complete disorientation!

Here’s how it works: With the built-in GPS, it knows where you are. Simply push a button – 1, 2, or 3 – to indicate how much rock you need, and a local street dealer will be to you right away! In fact, with our 15 minute guaranty, we promise that by the end of the SpongeBob episode you will completely forget who Patrick is! Or the rock is on us! Free! And you don’t even have to pay the dealer. We will charge your credit card automatically.

Don’t want to smoke alone? No problem! If you upgrade to our “Friends & Family” model, you are just one button away from extending your destructive lifestyle to others! Just push the button – easy as 1-2-3 – to indicate the number of prostitutes you desire. And remember, no need to pass money to the ladies (or guys!*); your credit card will automatically be charged. Ho, ho, ho!

(*When ordering prostitutes, select "Female," "Male," or "Random.")

Customer comments: “I was feeling really depressed. I just stole this lady’s purse and it had no cash in it. I really wanted a cheeseburger. But it did have a credit card! So I ran to the gas station before she could alert her credit card company and bought the Friends & Family CrackFone. I kept on pushing the buttons until it read ‘Credit Card denied.’ Man, that lady had a high limit! By the time I was done, I had 97 slabs and 32 prostitutes. We had a party!”

Don’t hesitate! Don’t find yourself alone and straight! Get your CrackFone right now and you’ll be rocking with the ho’s all night!

Dealers: Want to increase your business and streamline your accounts receivable management? We have very high quality standards, but you may qualify! Drop us a line and tell us how you cook your crack, what weight you can deliver, and your operating range. We’ll get back to you quickly!

Dealer comments: “Homey, I be telling you, check this out, I used to stand on the corner in the muthaf----g cold just to push 15-20 dime rocks a night. It was hard work. Now, I sits in my crib with my CrackDealerFone in one hand and a Nexxttel in the other. Some crackhead uses his CrackFone and I relay it to the small army of 12 year olds I’ve assembled. I get orders all the time. And no lost cash anymore! Sure I lose some rock now and then cuz some muthaf----g punkass kid falls off the muthaf----g mealtrain, but that’s their problem. There be lots more where they come from. I’s be rich, muthaf----er!”

Prostitutes: Tired of working for a pimp that doesn’t treat you like a business partner? We take only 20% and never touch you after our first trial run and annual reassessments. We even provide prescription coverage for sexually transmitted diseases, and two-weeks paid vacation each year (after three years’ employment). All you need to do show up promptly and perform thoroughly! And whatever crack the customer shares with you is free! To handle the overwhelming demand to be in our program, we ask that you send a videotape of your work. The tape cannot be shorter than 15 minutes, and must include at least three positions and some talking by you. Props are acceptable, but no animals. If you do not have access to video equipment, please contact us and we will arrange for an audition at our headquarters.

Prostitute comments: “They be nice.”

Become a subscriber today or join our team! You’re one button away from smiling!

Monday, November 13, 2006

Gag me with a spoon, please.

So Elton John throws a hissy fit, ripping through 15 FU’s in one minute on stage, all directed at his music label. His agent, Gary Farrow, said ain’t no problem with promotion: “I think you'll find it was tongue-in-cheek about the record company. You have to look for the humor.”

Let’s see: “I'm going to play a song but I'm sure you haven't heard it because the f***ers haven't promoted it!” “My record label isn't doing anything to help. F**k Universal... They're useless. Here's a message to Universal Records - please drop me. Just let me go somewhere else.”

I’m still looking for the humor within. But if you insist, Gary, I am sure it is there. You must hate your job, eh?

More Elton news? Sure! Seems he’s going to be spending more time with his in-laws … oh god, I just can’t. Sorry. Let’s try another. Um, he thinks organized religion should go away and wishes John Lennon were alive because he would be doing something! [Foot stamping, standing akimbo, mouth in a pout.] No more. Please.

How about another deeply disturbed person? OK! File this under, “too good to be true.” Michael Jackson is living in fear of his life after being stalked by a transvestite. A-hahahahahahahahaha hahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The lude dude’s name is “Michelle,” and he has asked Mikey to marry him! Wow. Just fricking wow. Hey, Mike, this pud’s for you!

More? Yes, Yes, YES!!! OK, then! Some idiot named Liam Gallagher, a lounge singer of some sort for Oasis, used to want to get drunk quicker, so he mainlined lager! Quicker? How the hell long does it take to drink a few beers? Relax, pal. Chug ‘em if you insist. But mainline? Dude, you got a problem – and it ain’t a desire to get drunk quicker.

Here’s some honesty: Ashley Judd says being a sex symbol makes her sick. It’s OK, sweetheart, all the really dirty men are gay and only want to dress up with you. The bothersome heteros are mainly harmless panty sniffers. So you’re helping some boys through puberty. That’s not a bad thing. Relax, darling. You’re cute, but at 5’7” and 125 (I know, 128 on a bad day) pounds, you’d think your ass would be more, I dunno, more there. You know what I mean? Did you know your birthday is the day before Hitler’s? Do you sometimes wear colored contacts to obscure your green eyes? Do you see your dad, Michael Ciminella, much? I never see you use your middle name Tyler. Don’t you like it? Do you stay in contact with anyone from UK? Go Wildcats, eh?

Speaking of all things sex, never EVER make a sex tape. Britney, girl, you should know better. Four hours? Do they make film that long, or did you stop to reload? Babycakes, do not negotiate with terrorists – tell the scum to sell it and get what he can. Give him nothing and use his attempted blackmail in the custody battle. You will easily win. Easily. Four hours? Was, like, there any, um, nevermind. I don’t want to know. Forget I asked.

I just can’t focus on this garbage anymore. Want more celeb gossip? Here’s the mother lode, enjoy.

Friday, November 10, 2006

Old people eating hot dogs

Headlines of articles in response to the dem takeover of Congress: Levin to Use Top Armed Services Post to Push U.S. Iraq Pullout, Former US Treasury chief Rubin says tax rises needed, First Order of Business for Democrats: The Draft, Democrats are set to subpoena, McGovern to meet with Congress on war (George McGovern!! That is too funny!!), Europe to be in loop on foreign policy: Kennedy, and Time To Socialize Medicine.

Pull out of Iraq, raise taxes, bring back the draft, run all sorts of hearings on who knew what when, consult with McGovern (?!?), bring Europe to our foreign policy table, and let the government run one-seventh of our economy (yeah, England and Canada’s systems are doing so well). This is going to be interesting. The lunatics are back in charge of the asylum.

Two words will creep into our minds before 2008: Pelosi Recession.

Do I really care? No, and that is new to me. This is the first election I have missed in my 30 years since turning 18. In fact, I am not all that much interested in being a republican anymore. It has nothing to do with becoming more liberal politically or socially in any of my views. I will vote overwhelmingly for pubs in the future. But I have found a discomfort with being identified with an organized party. They are all worse than whores: organized political parties exist purely to achieve and consolidate power. I don’t have to pick a side. Any party in power will stumble given time and the other will rise. Power rocks back and forth like an idiot savant on a bench next to the pretty flowers, oblivious to the multitude of people in white coats walking all around him. Party affiliation is irrelevant.

One last headline – Waxman Set to Probe Areas of Bush Gov't. Do you remember this guy? When Clinton was being impeached, Waxman was a dem sitting on the House panel examining and cross-examining witnesses as the Articles of Impeachment were being hammered out. If I recall, Bubba got impeached because some fat chick the age of his daughter was blowing him and he lied about it under oath to a federal prosecutor. It was the perjury issue that caused the impeachment, not whether getting a blow job in the Oval Office was a bad thing. But I digress, sorry. Anyway, this Waxman had me rolling on the floor laughing. His questions were so over-the-top pathetic that no one could take him seriously. I actually wrote him, suggesting that he stop making himself look like a fool.

I love it when the idiot savants are off their meds.

Now, here is an inquiry worth our time: Is a Burrito a Sandwich? It seems that Panera Bread wants it exclusive rights to sell sandwiches used to keep Qdoba from selling burritos in the same strip mall. Let’s ignore the racist location: the White City Shopping Center (where’s the NCAA football team naming commission when you need them?). The outcome? Summed up best by Cambridge chef Chris Schlesinger, who said in an affidavit: "I know of no chef or culinary historian who would call a burrito a sandwich. Indeed, the notion would be absurd to any credible chef or culinary historian."

Indeed. Now, I think our dem Congress should investigate how much money was wasted in that litigation and thereafter create a special tax against such lawsuits. The proceeds of the tax could be used to catalogue and rename all racist strip malls.

This is so typical of feel-good organizations like the UN: Bird Flu Battler Chan to Head WHO. A “battler”? Don’t you remember that we found out that the bird flu resided so deeply within the lungs that the fears of transmission were outrageously exaggerated? In fact, the flu just withered away. But she was there! She was ready to fight if necessary! The battle was never joined by an opponent, but if that nasty flu ever did decide to show up, then by golly gee willikers, she’d be there! So, with due respect to her feel-good pedigree, let’s make her the head of the World Health Organization! Never forgot that her new boss is the UN, and that means that the challenge is now different: instead of being ready to do real battle against a non-existent disease, she will need to fight a non-existent battle against real diseases.

Did I ever tell you that my father died fighting to defend the American way of life? He smoked and drank himself to death, losing his not-so-valiant battle coming up on four years ago now. At ease, men; smoke ‘em if you got ‘em.

Let it to the Germans. They are allowing a lawsuit against Rumsfeld, et al., resulting from the “Hey, terrorist! Yeah, you! The guy who strapped the bomb to the 12 year old and sent him into the marketplace! Yeah, you! C’mere! Where doing a nekkid cheerleader pyramid and you’re in the third row!’ prisoner-abuse ‘scandal.’ Another plaintiff is the 20th highjacker, who was “subjected to forced nudity, sexual humiliation, religious humiliation, prolonged stress positions, sleep deprivation and other controversial interrogation techniques.” “Forced nudity”? So it is OK, for example, to saw somebody’s head off with a butter knife as long you don’t force him to take his clothes off? I am learning so much! Very cool!

But how can Germany take jurisdiction over this case? Why not some fancy-smancy UN court? Ah, Germany was chosen for the court filing because German law provides "universal jurisdiction." German law provides for universal jurisdiction? German law? Of all places that should assert sovereignty beyond its borders, Germany is pretty far down the list – perhaps just above North Korea but below Palua New Guinea. Didn’t Germany commit the most egregious legal infractions of the last century by starting both world wars? International affairs are so confusing to me, probably because I’ve voted pub all these years. I sure am glad that keg-head Ted Kennedy is going to involve the sissified western Euro-pee-ons in our foreign policy decisions.

I think having an art poster made of your DNA sequencing is a cool idea. But I also think that these guys overly dramatize their write-up to justify the investment they made in unnecessary equipment. The clincher for me is the statement that the “piece will arrive rolled in a protective tube,” yet they are charging $35 for S/H.

Here are free plans for dog agility runs. Don’t get myopic thinking that these are only for dogs. When the dems socialize medicine, and all the old people are wandering the streets because there ain’t enough money to house ‘em if’n they ain’t that sick, then you get to set up some lawn chairs, get a half keg of Schlitz and some ballpark franks (they plump when you cook them!), and run a good ole fashioned “Geriatric Olympics”! Think of the fun as octagerians trip each other with canes and walkers all vying for the coveted grilled hot dog on a bun (with a side of blood-pressure meds) reserved for the first one to cross the finish line alive.

Enough. Bye for now.

Wednesday, November 8, 2006

Mr. Edward Trinkle

Our main character is not Mr. Trinkle, but an elderly professor, impish stature, who teaches inner-city kids post-secondary. You know that Pixar guy that plays chess with himself? That guy. He’s been teaching at the same school for over 30 years. The fire he used to display at all times is now just embers that glow occasionally during his lectures. Regardless of his aged performance, he is well-respected, effective, and a bit cranky. On days like today, when his body isn’t fairing well, his wife joins him at work. They sit together now at his desk, which is located in a common bullpen area with other faculty. Our professor talks, and his wife sits quietly and listens.

(Ed. Note – The text below should be read with a thick Irish accent which I can neither speak nor reproduce in text.)

“That woman, dear, that woman over there is the one I’ve been telling you about.

“Mrs. Trinkle.

“She’s the one that goes to the potty without locking the facility door.

“She’s trying to catch people off-guard, methinks.

“It’s sad, really.

“Tinkle Trinkle, that’s what they call her, love, behind her back, of course.

“Tinkle Trinkle.

“A fitting moniker for such an unseemly behavior.

“Tinkle, tinkle, little Mrs. Trinkle.

“Disgusting.

“Edward. Edward is her husband’s name.

“Mr. Edward Trinkle.

“She refers to him as, Mr. Ed.

“It’s some vulgar reference to his male genitalia.

“‘It’s not what you think’ she says with some pathetic little gleam in her wandering eye, ‘it’s more like a club,’ she says.

“Remarkable, her speaking that way about her own husband.

“Come to think of it, I always thought she was a drinker, what with that dazed look about her eyes, including that one that just seems to float around minding nobody’s business including its own, and that kind of puffy face.

“Looks like she soaks her head in a whisky bucket if you’re asking me.

“In fairness, perhaps she just gets clubbed regularly.

“You know, dearest, perhaps that explains her disgusting habit. Maybe her regular clubbing has so compromised her eyesight that she can’t focus on anything smaller than a grapefruit.

“She can’t see to lock the door, poor thing.

“Sweet mother of God, I wonder if the unfortunate woman can see to flush.

“I tell you, mama, the story just gets worse and worse.

“But still, the two of them together, Mr. Ed and her, must be quite the sight.

“I can just picture it. Her in her privy tinkling away for all to hear, blind as a bat, and him walking about casting shadows with his personal club.

“They ought to be in a porno movie, I tell you, love.

“Just disgraceful.

“Probably’s already been in one of those porno magazines. An advert. ‘Protect your car with the Club – Mr. Ed’s Club.’

“Of course nobody’ll steal the car. Not with the two of them in the back seat.

“My word, I can just imagine that car on a warm summer night. It must stink to high heaven.

“The two of them ought to be ashamed of themselves.

“I’d cast the whole lot into the sea, I tell you, if it were up to me. Right into the sea.”

Mrs. Trinkle notices our kindly professor and nods. The professor responds with a nod of his own, and then continues talking to his wife.

“She seems a tad more flushed today than usual, dear. Wonder if she’s been milking the horse before work.

"She's been asking around, too, about what color to dye her hair. As if the color makes a difference when the lights are off.

"There's not a redeeming quality about the poor thing. A shame it is.

“Would you like some tea, darling? I'll make it for you. My stomach’s a bit upset at the moment.”

Sunday, November 5, 2006

Nature's way


Explosive flatulence
It's nature’s way of telling you
Something’s wrong

Explosive flatulence
It's nature’s way of telling you
In a song

It's nature's way of propelling you
It's nature's way of smelling you
It's nature's way of telling you
Something's wrong

It's nature's way of telling you, soon we'll freeze
It's nature's way of telling you, dying trees

Explosive flatulence
It's nature’s way of telling you
Something’s wrong

Wednesday, November 1, 2006

Release the clowns!

John Kerry steps into it big time and then his staff tries to remove his boot from his mouth with the alleged proper text of his speech for which he misspoke virtually every word but the participles. I wish I could give you a link to the staff statement, but neither his official Senate site nor his official blog have anything. Regardless, American Thinker starts to assess the collateral damage.

Which is more consistent for Kerry – denigrating the military or making some vague reference to the collegiate performance of President Bush? Yeah, I know, nuance and all, but think about it: W’s grades were better and his IQ higher than John-boy. If Kerry was making an obscure reference, would he make it to a bunch of college kids that can’t even drink legally? He’d have to know that the facts would refute him. No, the statement stands for its plain meaning. He thinks only high school graduates go into the military but not “college material.” I don’t find it on his site, but Michael Savage said last night that 98% of those in the military have High School diplomas, while the general population is around 75%.

Kerry is simply amazing. A complete and utter buffoon. This is simple, folks. You are planning a dinner party. You think about the several guests and their personalities. You see it playing out in your head. Kerry won’t shut up and his wife is drunk with urine running down her leg as she stumbles throughout the room asking people to pull her finger. You scratch their names off the list. Do not erase them – you need to remember that you un-invited them. A single, bold line through their names will do it.

Poor John. Always a loser. I guess money can buy you love but not brains.