Hey, I need to know the rest of the story. Did the guy impress his wife and save his marriage or not? Yeah, it'll work.

Fuck this game!

Okay, America -- you can wake up any day now and come to the realization that Team Bush is a shitty leader. This is the second head of the Iraq Survey Group that has come out and basically said "We done fucked up." TB can spin it any way they want but one ugly fact remains: their original premise, plain and simple, was that Saddam possessed WMD which were an imminent threat to the United States, and this premise was DEAD WRONG. Regardless of whether or not they outright lied, it is incontrovertible that what they told us was not true.

I know, I know. They were just working on the intelligence they were given, and the intelligence turned out to be faulty. Well, you know what? That's still your fucking fault, Team Bush. Dick Cheney and Don Rumsfeld and Paul Wolfowitz and Doug Feith and Richard Perle and all those other Neocon & Project for a New American Century guys decided long before 9/11 that Saddam needed to be taken out. When they heard the "intelligence" that supported their desired actions, they sure as hell weren't going to bother doing any work to make sure it was solid. They had the "evidence" they needed and the excuse they needed, namely 9/11.

To say it again, they were wrong. Bush has been running around continually saying something to the effect of "The terrorists only need to be right once; we need to be right every single time." Well, by his logic, shouldn't his team be out on its ass since they were wrong on Iraq? After all, these are the fuckers who are supposedly doing such a great job of protecting us. Look, I know that it's ridiculous to expect them to be right 100% of the time, but they're the ones trumpeting that nonsense, not me. I'm just holding them up to the standards that they set. Isn't being able to use people's own words against them neat?

Tucker Carlson, a right-leaning pundit who's not a big fan of how Iraq has gone, was on Real Time this past weekend. He said that this election really does come down to Iraq. If you like the Iraq war, you'll vote for Bush. If not, you won't. I hate boiling down something as big as a Presidential election to just one thing -- it smacks of assholes who vote on a single issue, like which candidate is pro- or anti-gun -- but that is a good way to put it. The Iraq war speaks to so much more than just the war itself. It shows the character of Team Bush as a leader. It shows how far they're willing to go and what they're willing to get us involved in even if there's no real purpose. They're going to do nothing but gamble and spin to get their way, and we'll pay the price for whatever goes wrong -- not them. George Bush talks about what a strong and capable leader he is, but how strong and capable are you if you do nothing but play Russian roulette with American lives and credibility?

Oh, and if we want to keep from oversimplifying, we can always bring in all of the social and economic issues that Team Bush brings to the table, but I'm not in the mood to get into any of that here.

While we're on the subject of politics, the vice presidential debate was last night. I'm gonna go with what Jim Rome says when there's nothing but shitty submissions for the e-mail contest: nobody wins. I missed about the first 15 minutes of it, and I was only listening on the radio. It was pretty ugly in the beginning, and then settled down as things went along. I figured going in that it would be a decent match-up. Unlike Bush, I knew that Dick Cheney went into a debate confident. Probably prepared, too. John Edwards, on the other hand, probably wasn't too worried, either. I don't think anyone knows this, but they guy used to be a trial lawyer, so he's used to sitting down and arguing with people.

One thing ETP was hoping for going into the debate was that Edwards would use some of his lawyering smarts to get Cheney to snap and tell him to go fuck himself or something. I was like, yeah, that'd be great if Edwards could push the right buttons, and then Cheney's host body would split open so that the beast could finally come out. Alas, we didn't get to see any of what we were hoping for. Of course, since I only got the audio, I couldn't have seen it anyway -- but I probably would have read something about it today.

If I had to declare a winner from last night's debate, I would have to go with... The moderator. She was fucking great. Like when she tells Cheney he has 30 or 90 seconds to respond (I can't remember which), and Cheney says "It's going to take more time than that" to which she says -- cool and smooth as shit -- "Well, that's all you've got." I was like, damn.

Okay, that's enough. I'm going to crawl back into my hole of being sick of politics again.

MY EMPIRE IS CRUMBLING!!!!!

Okay, everyone can come back into the room now. Better strap yourselves in and pop yourself a Gleemonex; we're all going to need it.

Yes, the kingdom has fallen. I am no longer living in Audi Arabia. It's been a few days, actually. Ask ETP and BOETP-- I'm kinda depressed. I mean, it is nice having my car back now that it's all fixed up instead of having the driver's side all mashed in and oh who am I kidding.

Where are my six cylinders? Where are my leather seats? Where are my HID (Highly Irritating to Drivers) headlamps? Where are my auto-dimming mirrors (which I didn't even care for)? Where are my foglights? Where is the little "poop!" sound when I lock the doors? Where is my all-wheel drive? Where is my bullshit wood trim? Where's my extra set of doors so that BOETP can get in and out unencumbered? Yes, oh yes, where is my PussyStick? Where is my key? Where the FUCK is my KEY?

Next to the bullshit wood trim -- and quite possibly surpassing it -- the key for this car was the best part. The key and remote were integrated into one unit so that when you pressed a small button on the remote, the key would swing out from the side kinda like a motherfucking switchblade. I couldn't help it, I just felt cool every time I busted the key out. I knew I really wasn't cool, but popping out the key made me feel like I could maybe look like I was smooth and cool some day. That's how powerful it was.

Just the whole damn car had a total bullshit effect on me. Again, ask ETP or BOETP. I was living the life of the yuppie asshole I've simultaneously always hated and always wanted to be. I'd pull up next to another driver in an Audi, look over, and say "What's up, fellow Audi driver?" Of course, it was all an illusion, but you know what? Playing pretend is fun. We don't do enough of that as (pseudo) adults.

Yeah, a lot of the allure was nonsense image. I felt like maybe others might think I was someone. Again, all bullshit. Yeah, people probably thought I was someone, alright. Someone whose parents are rich who bought their shit kid a nice car (keep in mind that I look like I'm 12). And my response to that was, of course, that I earned that car... Or at least I could have earned it.

Other than the ego crap, it was quite a bit of fun to drive, even with the much-maligned PussyStick. I used PussyStick almost exclusively since it was marginally more interesting to drive than a normal automatic. ETP put it best when he said that it's like trying to fuck with a limp dick -- yeah, you're limp, but at least you're fucking.

That goddamn PussyStick presented one of the first big problems in re-adjusting. I'm not proud to say it, but there has been more than one occasion over the past few days where I've moved the gearshift out of "Drive" to try and get back to the feeling of PussyStick. Even though that's basically what PussyStick is (especially with Audi's implementation; not sure what others are like), it's still not the same.

And of course, I just can't go as fucking fast. Not like I was tear-assing all over the place, but I could if I needed to. One of my favorite things was making this turn close to my house that I go through every day. Starting from a standing stop, I'd be at like 35-40 well before I came out of the turn with shit flying around in the car with those four wheels gripping the road. You know, nothing spectacular, but more than my Civic can do.

Ever since I had to give up the Audi, I've driven both my Civic and my mother's Accord. Both cars are decent, with the Accord obviously being the nicer one. Even driving the nicer Accord isn't going to be any fun anymore. I realized what the essence of it was, at least in the power regime: when I hit the gas in any of our Hondas, there's just no sense of urgency in those cars like there was in the Audi. Of course, should you buy something like an A4, you're paying tens of thousands more for that urgency. And, again, not like I need that urgency, but I fucking need it.

That car was with me for way longer than I had thought. Originally, it's like one-and-a-half to two weeks tops, right? That, or, more than a month. Every weekend when we get together, I'd always be enthusiastic to be the one to drive us around since "this is my last weekend with the Audi."

After, I dunno, about 37 last weekends, it turned into nothing more than a month-long cocktease. That was more than just regular ol' loaner car experience. That car and I bonded. God damn it; I re-filled her washer fluid. What we had meant something. And now it's all over.

Taking that car back was anticipatedly painful. Driving down the last stretch of road before pulling into the bodyshop's lot, I'm man enough to admit that I was about to cry. It felt like I was taking my best friend to be shot or something. It sucked is what I'm trying to say.

What sucks even more is this transition back into being a loser who drives a Civic (as opposed to a loser who drives an Audi... that isn't his). The transition isn't going to be hard just for me, but for the few people who are unlucky enough to hang around me. They're pretty much going to have to hear nothing but nonstop crap about my quest for a new car until I A) get a new one or B) realize that it's not going to happen. So, yeah, I'm sorry.

Hey, while we're at it, anyone wanna buy a '98 Civic HX with 90K miles on it? It's in all-around great condition, and the accident was only body damage which has now been fixed.

Yeah, that's all it's been for the past few weeks. Gotta get a new car. Gotta get something nice with that bullshit wood trim I like so much. Which means, of course, that Project 3-Series is in full effect. Now, I don't need a 3-series, but I fucking need it.

Yeah, I could find myself a nicer car. Yeah, I could find one way faster. I could even find something else with that bullshit wood trim. But once I set my sights on something, that's pretty much it. Nothing is going to make me feel like quite the asshole that I'd feel like in a Bimmer. Besides, getting one would be completely hypocritical, and, let's face it -- that's just my style.

My backup is the Acura TSX. I testdrove one a few weeks ago, and yeah, that's a pretty nice car. I know that I'm a huge fucking prick when that's my "backup." I mean, seriously. That car just felt good to drive. It comes loaded with pretty much all the features you could want (as opposed to a 325i, where damn near everything is a fucking option). If I get a red or a black one, I can get the leather interior color that comes along with bullshit wood trim (which means that I'll get a red one since black cars, while fucking slick, are too damn hard to keep looking clean). Since I have an "in" at an Acura dealership, I could get a decent deal on one. But I just know I'm not going to be fully happy with anything less than a 3-series, even if I settle for the 325 as opposed to the 330.

I'm kind of in a crunch, too. The 2005 model year is going to be very short for the 3-series since the '06 is going to be introduced in about six months. I don't think I like the look of the '06 (which you can see a couple of shots of here) as much as the clean look of the current incarnation. So we'll see what happens.

Anyway, yeah, that's a good deal of what's been occupying my mind for the past few weeks. Scheming ways to free up or make cash, coming up with budgets; all that materialistic, money-driven shit. Pretty much the same thing I've done with all 25 years of my life. But oh effing well. Driving that Audi was like being wrapped inside joy, and now all Dr. Soran wants is to get back to the Nexus.

Yeah, it is pretty pathetic for Team Bush to be going after this. But you knew they were going to find something to attack, and if that's the biggest criticism they can muster, then Kerry is in good shape coming out of that first debate. You know, the debate where Kerry totally kicked ass without doing anything really spectacular; it's he was just up against a man who pretty much can't do anything you'd expect out of a president. Anyway, Kerry should have explained himself better in the debate on the "global test" business, but oh well.

"I don't understand 'proving to the world that you did it for legitimate reasons,' " she said.

I've always viewed Condoleeza rice as a token. Sorry, I just can't help it when it comes to the Republicans. Yeah, it's not like the Democrats don't pander to and kiss ass with people who aren't rich white men, but it doesn't come across as hollow when coming from the D side since that is, after all, their base. It's not completely disingenuous to have Blacks and Hispanics and women and whatnot up on stage at the DNC, as opposed to, say, Chaka Khan performing at the RNC.

What the fuck was I talking about? Oh yeah -- Condi Rice. Yeah, a token. My belief in that never detracted from the corollary belief that she was undoubtedly a smart woman. But if she really doesn't understand what "proving to the world that you did it for legitimate reasons" means, or if she thinks that she can convince people that she doesn't get it, then it looks like she's stupid after all, too.

Note to Markus: you are a stupid fucking piece of shit, and I hope you die in the next big terror attack. The same goes for any other retarded little fuckshits who think they're all smart and clever by saying stupid crap in guestbooks. And hey, if you're going to do it, at least learn to use proper grammar and spell shit properly. You make yourself look worser when you do it that way, and it fills us with nothing but hatriot towards you.

You guys do realize that my website is NOTHING but a bunch of words used as filler to string together repeated uses and variations of the word "fuck," but as yet I still come off as better educated and more articulate than you brain stems.

The only thing that keeps me from banning you cretins and/or deleting your guestbook entries is that, quite frankly, it's highly amusing watching someone else embarrass themselves for a change. Here's a tip, though. If you want to spout off your worthless opinion that no one gives a flying fuck about, do what any decent asshole -- like myself -- does: start a 'blog of your own.

You liberals should be ashamed of yourselves for calling Iyad Allawi a "puppet." He is a courageous man who's fighting for the people of his country! Oh, wait, maybe you're saying that because he IS a puppet.

Even if Team Bush didn't write a good deal of the speech, does it matter? Anyone who thinks about things for, I dunno, more than three seconds knows that Allawi is far from an objective source. Yeah, the former CIA operative is going to criticize the people who gave him his current job and say things that will make them look bad. People in that position typically bite the hand that feeds them, especially when that hand is occupying their fucking country.

Shit, if nothing else, he's kissing ass so that a year or two down the road he doesn't have to pop up every once in awhile like Hamid Karzai saying "Please don't forget about us (even though you already have...)!" Of course, Afghanistan was just an unwanted bump in the road to get to what the administration had wanted to do way before 9/11 -- Iraq -- so I doubt they'd just ditch Iraq as well. But you never know with those fuckers.

Round one... Fight!

So the first of three debates nearly as sterile as the candidates themselves was this evening. And I've gotta say... Not too bad. Not really stellar, but not too bad. Kerry looked good up there. Bush, well, looked like Bush.

Is this any kind of surprise, though? Beforehand, a bunch of people were like "This could make or break the election! This could make or break the election!" Well, not really. At least, not when it comes to making the election for Bush or breaking it for Kerry. We all know that Bush is, ah, let's just come out and say it -- a shitty speaker. I mean, repugnantly awful for someone who ostensibly has a lot of power and influence. He's not a particularly rousing speaker, either. We all remember his RNC speech which was... Adequate. It was pretty much nothing but a bunch of people clapping at the shit they like being spoonfed anyway. Same thing tonight -- Bush repeated what you'd expect him to, but there was no way he was going to burn down the house like a Reagan or a Clinton.

John Kerry pretty much had to keep from drooling on himself and it was surefire that he would at least look adequate as well. The main concern, undoubtedly, was that he would come off as wooden or distant and fuck himself or get fucked (depending on how you look at it) like Al Gore four years ago.

Kerry did quite a bit more than not drool on himself. He was pretty solid up there. He spoke concisely and made his points. He pronounced "nuclear" properly. God, I just wanted him to go slap Bush in the mouth everytime he mispronounced it. Kerry looked like a man who at least has his shit reasonably well put together. Much more the kind of guy you'd feel at least somewhat secure leaving to run the country. What do you expect, though? He's a fucking educated man who's spent decades in the Senate. Oh, but what about Bush, you say? He went to Yale, and he's president! Yeah. Joke and joke.

The thing I liked best about Kerry's performance was that he was all over the place. Not in a helter-skelter, I-don't-know-what-the-fuck-I'm-doing kinda way, though, unlike someone we know. No, He just managed to hit everything he could in the time allowed while keeping it all tied together. Bush, on the other hand, got across one or two points the entire night (or at least tried to), the main one of them being that you have to be consistent. Or something. Seriously, how many fucking times did Bush talk about how you can't change your mind and blah blah blah?

Before this first debate, all we could hear was that Bush has never lost a debate and, as such, that he's a great debater. And it's like, no he isn't. He's Bush. Haven't you been paying attention for the last FOUR FUCKING YEARS? Oh, that's right -- you haven't.

I know that Kerry must have done a decent job despite my biases since Fox's commentators were being pretty positive with regards to his performance. When you've got the editorial staff of The Weekly Standard giving Kerry points, you know he did something good.

Of course, Kerry was far from perfect. He didn't exactly burn the place down, either. In some ways he was pretty lucky, because there were lots of times that anyone but Bush could have nailed Kerry on a particular point. Bush, the great debater that he is, failed to capitalize. Kerry, on the other hand, had opportunities where he could have really buried Bush on some stuff, or at least clarified a Bush distortion or hammered home a point, but didn't. Like I said, not perfect.

I just wish we could have at least one debate that's totally free-form. Just put these two in a cage -- no moderator, no handlers, no bullshit, just let them have at eachother. Rhetorically, of course. I'm not sure that we're at the point where even we're ready to turn presidential races into bloodsport, but yeah, maybe. Anyway, if these two could just sit down and argue shit out, and furthermore if Kerry didn't hold back at all, I know Kerry would rip Bush to shreds. I've had my own fair share of criticism for John Kerry, but I have no doubt that the man is a hundred times smarter than Bush. Hell, the floater I flushed down the toilet awhile ago is at least ten times the intellect that Bush is, so I know Kerry could shine against Bush if the shackles were undone.

One down, two to go. I don't know if this helped Kerry's chances a great deal, but I just don't see how it could have hurt.

I love The Onion. I also care a great deal for the "National Outlook" on this page.

Google search:

gynecological DNC

I've gotten a hit of this nature at least twice, and the best I can figure is that the searcher is looking for a discussion of how the DNC was a total clinic in looking at nothing but a bunch of pussies.

Get your drink on

Steve Colbert: it's French... Bitch.

While we're in the groove with random product reviews, ETP and I tried an utterly atrocious beer this weekend: Wexford Irish Cream Ale. It tastes like fucking medicine, and proves that just because it's got the little ball of compressed gases like Guinness doesn't mean it's good. ETP and I were able to get down a few sips before it went down the drain.

The worst thing about it was that those few sips destroyed my palette for the rest of the night. Nothing tasted right for the rest of the evening, and I couldn't even enjoy my beloved Fuller's ESB after that.

Last week just wasn't a good week when it came to bad aftertastes. Don't get any dirty ideas; I've already gotten used to that aftertaste. What exactly "that" is referring to is up to you; if you decide to go homoerotic that's just fine since that's where I was headed. Anyway, one day at work I decided to try a piece of candy from Korea that someone brought in. After about three seconds in my mouth, I was like, this tastes like potting soil. Not that I eat a lot of potting soil, but if I did that's what I'd imagine it must taste like. Like the Wexford I couldn't get rid of the taste for quite some time, and all I could think of for the several hours following that brief taste of the candy was "What the fuck is wrong with Korean people?" But at least they're not making scheisse flicks. Or at least, not that I know of, and even with my sick mind I don't fucking want to know if they are.

Alright, back to beer. If you're looking for a good beer, that Fuller's ESB is one to check out if you can find it. The ESB, as you may already know (in other words, if you're an alcoholic like me... because, yeah, having any knowledge of alcohol automatically makes you an alkie), stands for extra special bitter. Of course, if you don't like bitter beers, Fuller's ESB isn't for you. And, you're a pussy. Seriously, everyone knows Keystone, right? The real alcoholics know Keystone well, I'm sure. Keystone's mission is to stamp out "bitter beer face." And all I can say is... Fuck you! For me, bitter beer face is a big-ass smile. You can take your watered-down piss-water and, well, do whatever the fuck you want with it, because I won't be drinking it.

Another quality brew I've been consistently buying for the past few months is Breckenridge Brewery's oatmeal stout. The first time I had one, all I could do was repeat the cycle of taking a drink and then looking at the bottle, saying to myself "This is a good beer." Since it's one of the smaller breweries here in Colorado I don't know how far from home it's sold, but if you find it and you go for this kind of beer, I'd recommend checking it out.

I'm sure it's apparent by now that my taste in beers tilts heavily towards dark and flavorful. My worst enemy is the pale ale, my best friend is the stout.

As a fun fact for the day, Guinness in particular is not only tasty, but it's also healthy. Low in calories and high in iron. My step-dad's mother was telling us this story of growing up in England and how she was anemic as a child. To combat this, her parents would give her a bit of Guinness mixed with milk. She's not anemic anymore, and it's not because of the milk.

Okay, so I've managed to post about cream corn, how I need to find Fluke only in woman form, and beer, all in one night. Yeah, I don't sound like a drunk or anything.

Six Discs in My Changer

As a preface to this post, if you don't know who Fluke is, then you're living under a huge rock as you've somehow avoided hearing both "Atom Bomb" and "Absurd" for the past several years even though they've been all over the place. Also, if this description fits you, you're missing out and your life sucks.

Okay, so I got two new Fluke CDs over the weekend. By new, of course, I mean old -- Oto and Six Wheels on My Wagon. I hadn't picked these up yet since, naturally, they're only available as imports since we don't get anything good here because America sucks. I mean, it's no wonder us liberals hate America so much -- we can't even get our Fluke fix without having to go overseas.

Oh, and before you start in with that "Well, if you hate it so much, why don't you just leave?" bullshit, stop. Quit thinking you're clever, because you're not.

So far, I fucking love SWOMW. I've been playing it pretty much non-stop for the past several days. As such, what happened with the three-disc Progressive History XXX (AKA Hardcore, as opposed to the domestic Progressive History X, otherwise known as Softcore -- not a value judgment, by the way, because both compilations fucking rule) is happening with these two new discs. You see, with Hardcore, I almost always listen to disc 1. Yes, there's lots of cool stuff on the other two, but lots of times when I consider listening to one of them, I'm like, "Shit, I could be listening to disc 1 right now. It has track two, the second best track from anywhere."

As such, discs 2 and 3 get neglected, even though they don't deserve it. So far, Oto is suffering this fate. I just can't stop listening to SWOMW (unless of course if I'm listening to Hardcore disc 1, as I am right now). Maybe once I get my shit together and hit more of Oto we can buck this trend, but I'm not making any promises.

For some reason, I just don't get sick of any of these damn Fluke CDs, whether I listen to any particular disc constantly or just every now and then. It's been nice, because it's meant that I haven't had a continual driving urge to buy new music for quite some time now. This is useful for A) the wallet and B) the fact that there's virtually nothing but crap out there anyway. Not that I don't pick up new CDs from time to time (usually just more random noise -- you know, techno), but if some great tragedy befell the world and I had to live the rest of my days with only what I've got on hand, I'd be perfectly fine with that. Until, of course, a new Fluke album came out.

One thing that's always been hard for me to grasp with relationships is how people can do something like get married and then actually be happy for the rest of their fucking lives together. Now, it's not that I'm afraid of commitment, it's just that I oftentimes just tend to get sick of people after awhile, even if there are no issues whatsoever. Like, do you remember the story I told about the Vegas trip where I spent every waking moment of one week with this one friend of mine, and at one point I had to wander Paris aimlessly for five minutes by myself just to get some proverbial fresh air away from him? Yeah, stuff like that is what I'm talking about. Maybe you'll get out your textbook and try and psych 101 that into a fear of commitment, Freud, but you're wrong.

Thanks to Fluke, though, I do see that it's possible to have consistent exposure to something and not get sick of it. Granted, Fluke and I haven't been together for our entire lives yet (and I hope I'm not close to that point, either -- gotta cover my bases just in case they are listening and get any bright ideas), but it's looking real good. Most other CDs get constant play in the beginning and then some action every once in awhile, but it's been practically all Fluke, all the time for the past few years with me.

So what I need to do is find myself the female equivalent of Fluke. Some who, while I don't like absolutely everything that they do, I find enough good stuff in that I know they're pretty much better than everyone else. Hmm, I guess this doesn't quite work, though, since no matter how committed I am to Fluke, I don't know that Fluke likes me back. But wait a minute -- they must like the fact that I give them money, and I'll be damned if that doesn't sound exactly like a woman. I am the best at all metaphors!

Am I the only person alive who likes creamed corn? I'm pretty sure that I am, because I've never met anyone else who likes it. Hey, I'm not saying that I'd want to eat it every day, but if I had to, it wouldn't be the worst thing I could think of. And look, I don't profess to know what the "cream" is, nor do I care. To adapt a line from Lewis Black (although he was talking about sunscreen, not creamed corn), it could be zebra cum -- you don't know. But even if it is, then it looks like I need to get myself a pet zebra.

Dammit, something interesting has gotta happen soon. I mean, I'm posting about fucking creamed corn for Christ's sake. What are there, like, 36 days left until the election? I'd be willing to bet shit starts going down after the election, whether Team Bush wins or loses.

If by some act of Joe Pesci Kerry manages to win, look the fuck out, world. TB is going to go into "nothing to lose" mode since, well, they'll have nothing to lose. Remember how everyone got all bent out of shape when Clinton pardoned everyone? Yeah, that was nothing. See, they'll have four months to accomplish as much evil shit as they can that was originally planned to stretch out over four years.

Should they win, Team Bush is going to go into "nothing to lose" mode since, well, they've already won everything and there's nothing left for them to lose. They can then take their time anally raping this country. Nice and slow, long and hard, just the way they like it. I hope you like bleeding from the asshole, America.

As an example of what we might have to look forward to, I've been hearing rumors from the left-wing about how regardless of the election's outcome, we're going to go all-out in Iraq to quell the uprising. I don't know if anyone has any hard evidence of this supposed plan, but it sounds logical. No sense risking an assault before the election that could potentially have a negative influence as far as TB is concerned.

Now, cracking down on insurgents isn't really what I'm on about here. What will piss me off about this, if indeed it happens, is the timing. If this happens, I don't want to hear anyone on the right EVER criticize ANYONE for politicizing the Iraq war, The War Against Terror (TWAT), or anything else. Because that's exactly what a maneuver like hitting the insurgency post election would be.

But hey, at least there should be something interesting and relatively new to talk about. It most likely won't be good-interesting, but I'm trying to be as positive as I'm capable of here.

That's... Pretty good. Not to mention Ted Rall's latest.

As Bill Maher said on the most recent Real Time, Maureen Dowd: always the smartest kid in the class. I may be sick and tired of politics (can we just have the election tomorrow and get it over with?), but I just can't get sick of Maureen. I was going to make some comments on the whole Bush/Allawi puppet thing, but there's no real point now since she pretty much covered it.

New GYWO.

I'm not living in my car for a year, though; fuck that shit

I woke up at about 2 AM Tuesday morning starving. You remember that Onion Point/Counterpoint "I am so starving"? Yeah, I am so starving. I realized why -- because on Sunday I had waffles for breakfast and quite possibly nothing for lunch or dinner; then on Monday I had waffles for breakfast, pretzels as a snack around dinner time, and a Lean Pocket later on at night. I'm usually good about keeping myself fed (this was an exception -- gotta throw that in in case my mother ends up reading this), but this wasn't so good.

Of course, I've got my excuses. On Sunday, I worked. This is no big deal for many out there, but I usually don't have to work weekends. I ended up getting home late and just wasn't hungry at all, plus I had to get up early on Monday for the beginning of (what should be) a couple of very busy months. I put in like 11 hours on Monday and got home late once again. I wanted to write up the first draft of my contribution to our first Spike Lee Joint; if I hadn't been busy with that I would have mixed some chips in with that Lean Pocket.

So I'm sitting there at 2 AM in my dining room stuffing myself with bread, oatmeal, and Gatorade, and I have an epiphany on my starvation: I am suffering for my art. My job and my 'blog, which for me are my worthless, shitty art that no one cares about. Well, okay, some of the people at work care about what I do, but no one considers it art (even though my primary job function is a kind of nerdy art, but I'll spare you the details for now). The 'blog, on the other hand, is at least writing, and there have been at least a couple of writers who were considered artists. Like that one guy, the other guy... And that bitch who killed herself. But virtually no one gives a shit about my 'blog, 'cept for ETP, BOETP and I since it's pretty much written for us (as opposed to the critics) and maybe a handful of others.

You know, I'm just going to keep rambling on about personal bullshit until the rest of the world gets interesting again. Aren't we due to start another war soon or something? I should be careful what I wish for, and I certainly shouldn't joke about things like that, because it'll happen and I don't want get drafted. But yeah, same shit, different day. Even -- especially -- around here.

I went back and re-read last year's NDK wrapup, and man. Night and fucking day. I like how last year it was all happy and positive. This year? Not so much. Last year I had some nice things to say and talked about the fun we had. This year? ATTACK. Just go after everything we can -- even though we, for the most part, weren't there.

At NDK time last year, I was living at my parents' house, was driving a Civic, had no solid job, and had no friends. Right now, I own my own home (which the bank actually owns), I drive an Audi (which isn't mine), I have a "real" job (which I'm going to lose), and I have no friends (no qualifier needed). Despite the drastic improvement in (partially artificial) scenery, I'm pretty sure that I'm more bitter, more pissed off, and overall, just a bigger asshole than I was a year ago. I take great amusement in this fact. Being a dooshebag is just my natural state of being, so why fuck with it.

Anyway, let's get back to this con shit, if only for a moment. If you want to read an amusing NDK tale from someone who was actually at the con, you can check this out. See, that's the kind of shit the three of us would do if we had balls. Actually, I'll bet we'd do entertaining stuff like that if I had balls. But no, I just prefer to talk about people behind their backs, like a real man.

Whenever we get together and engage in some assholish activities, we end up asking: how did we get so bad? I blame myself. Now, I'm not saying that I'm any kind of ringleader or that ETP and BOETP just follow along with what I do, but I'm pretty sure that I have definite influence. I've known ETP for like half my life, and he's a good guy. I mean, he's a bad person; that's why we get along so well. But he's still a good guy. He'll spend five minutes trying to flag down a homeless guy to give that leftover slice of Gino's. Me, it's not necessarily that I don't want to help (although often times I just plain don't), it's that I won't because I'm afraid of people. Regardless of reason, the end result is the same. This, of course, is just one example. There are countless others.

As for BOETP, I haven't known her anywhere near as long, but I can't believe she's just naturally this bad. Sure, women can be vicious assholes -- one of the reasons I like 'em. But this is a completely different level.

Anyone remember the Beavis and Butthead X-mas special It's a Miserable Life? I think it's kinda like that, only nowhere near as extreme. Even if it is that extreme, I'd rather have ETP being a prick than being some total candy-ass in a Winger t-shirt.

I think the fact that I'm dragging everyone down is evident in what happens when I'm not around. They can get shit done when I'm not there, even if it's just something as simple as asking around to see who has sushi-grade fish. Again, just one illustrative scenario.

Umm, where the fuck am I going with this? Nowhere, really.

WHY?!?!?

Just because things are still slow around here doesn't mean BLM doesn't care about 'ya. Just so we can keep the feelings of joy and positivity alive, here's one of those fucked up stories I'm all to fond of sharing. Like usual, if I'm going to suffer though reading about something like that, I'm bringing everyone down with me.

"I'm very hurt because my son was raised as a good boy."

Quite clearly he wasn't, and that's all there really is to say about that.

Get your Chicago, err, what the hell are we getting on again?

Calling all freaks.

As a forewarning, this post is a collaborative effort between BLM, ETP, and BOETP. Hereafter referred to as a Spike Lee Joint.

So yeah, this past weekend was NDK weekend in Denver. NDK is Denver's anime con, forever destined to be shitty since it is, well, Denver. For the none of you who care, here's what BLM had to say about last year's con. Let's see how the aftermath of this con compares to the previous con, shall we?

To start, why does NDK blow such hard ass? Well, for one, Denver is a nice place to live, but no one wants to fucking come here. Basically because there's nothing to do here but play with your prick and eat at Wendy's until the end of time. Maybe mix in some People magazine. Nabeshin wouldn't be caught dead here, that's for sure. We could probably get more Japanese guests here for the con if we were put in charge of entertaining them, though. We have no social skills just like all the people who are involved in making anime, and we are down with drinking and looking at schoolgirls and leg fetish photos. We all know that this list pretty much sums up Japan's raison d'être. But does the con tap the resources available to them? Shit no.

In addition to being in Denver, NDK is held at a completely irrelevant time as far as everyone is concerned. The con is also run by this fat stupid bitch who really needs to bathe (and once made a reference to cooking that probably didn't have any relevance to anything). You know, an anime fan.

NDK never can and never will be the glory that is ACen, that's for damn sure. You know, the con we showed up at, shopped at, went to one whole event at, and then blew off because we were in FUCKING CHICAGO. In the short lived battle of Chicago vs. Anime... Chicago Wins! (Excellent.) Partially because it's one of the greatest cities in the U.S., but also because, as a population, anime fans kind of have a sour milk, urine and BO stench to them. We've demonstrated that we can find a way to handle unpleasantries like that for reasonable periods of time, but when stacked up against Chicago, we're going with Chicago.

Back to NDK... Alright, so we had fucking plans. That's unheard of; we hardly ever plan shit. But it was like, yeah. BLM'll get off work early and pick up mom and dad since it's their day off, dooode. We'll get down to the con, get a Friday admission pass, hit the dealer's room, and get the hell out of there and never look back.

We were ON IT. Doin' it in style, too. We show up in BLM's Audi, with two-thirds of us decked out with the power of The Horse, the other a walking billboard for BLM (and it wasn't BLM; lazy little shit can't even be bothered to do his own self-promotion). ETP had the "It's never going to be good again" t-shirt coupled with a "Visors Are For Losers" visor. Next to him is his wife in her Ralph visor, a juxtaposition that was fucking sweet. We were just dying for some dipshit to come up and say "Uhhh, you say that visors are for losers, but your wife is wearing a visor." To which we would have said something like "Yeah asshole, thanks for getting the joke -- or becoming it."

Anyway, as we go to get into the queue (let's get some British flair in here...) for admission, we see a familiar sight -- a huge fucking line. A nice long one coming out of the hotel and snaking around the corner. Each and every one of us (that's including all you fuckers) is a big fan of certain long, snaking things -- you just NEED it! -- but this wasn't one of those certain things.

This was also change-up from last year, where the registration line was all inside and in a different part of the hotel. That was a much better option than this year's stupid fucking idea. Yeah, let's take a bunch of bloody unwashed anime fans... And let them bake in ninety-plus-degree heat. Sure, it sucks being stuck indoors in line with these scumbags, but at least the environment in there isn't doing as much to exacerbate the situation. Not to mention inside we would have access to booze (pronounced boo-zay) at the nearby hotel bar if the situation required... Which it probably definitely would!

So we're like, fuck this. Let's go get some food and see if maybe things have started moving by the time we get back (knowing full well that they wouldn't). We hop the street over to Qdoba's. ETP brings up the fact that Qdoba's sells beer. Should we start drinking before the con? Yes, we should start drinking before the con. In fact, there's a liquor store next door; we might be back. Why didn't we bring our flasks?

After eating, drinking, and probably making people at nearby tables wonder why we were using phrases like "child fucker," we head back to get in line once again. On approach to the hotel, we immediately see someone wearing a costume that they have no business wearing. Along with the general odor, this is one of the worst things about any anime con. Not only are you surrounded by a bunch of fat ugly people who are way bigger losers than you are, but a bunch of them think they're all hot and clever with their costumes on their horrible bodies.

This particular, uh, whatever you want to call it, thought that it would be a good idea to show off her thunder-thighs in a leotard... I'll let that image sink in for a moment so you can get to where we're at... There it is. Look, bottom line is that if you don't look something like this or this, you have no business doing any kind of cosplay. The sad part is that even if they were not in a costume they would still offend the eyes because people do not dress for their body type. If you don't have a good body, cover it the fuck up.

To sum up the whole cosplay experience, which truly is for sucks: STOP THAT!! STOP THAT SHIT!!!! Either stay the fuck home, or put on a goddamn beekeeper suit.

Okay, sure, there are a couple of people that can float, but for the most part the genre sucks. The best you can hope for -- when it comes to the women, at least -- is for a girl who has an average to decent body but a face that looks like it took the brunt of Hurricane Ivan. Otherwise, maybe a couple of costumes that look cool and/or actually clever, but that's as good as it gets.

As always, getting a bit off-track here. Thirty minutes after seeing patient zero of bad cosplay -- once the vomiting and shakes died down -- we made our way to the back of the line. After about six seconds, BLM decides to scout on ahead and see if it looked like there was any movement at the head of the line or not. While seeing that there wasn't, he notices another line at the other side of the hotel, which he realizes is for pre-regs. They're not moving either. Fantastic.

Why the fuck do cons always pull this shit? If someone goes through the trouble of pre-registering, just send them their fucking badges. One of the only logical reasons we could come up with for not doing that is because they don't want people making copies or some shit, but there are ways around that. If cost is an issue, just build it into the ticket price. Whatever the case, it's ridiculous to make people stand in line when they helped your ass out by paying in advance. Even ACen fucked this up horribly, and we're tired of it. We're flaming pissed about it and we didn't even pre-reg for this con.

Anyway, BLM gets back in line, and shortly thereafter stupid people start talking to us. The first was this utterly atrocious specimen with teeth that made the Japanese and the British look like dental and orthodontic masters (... and now let's rip on the British). We start talking about how bad the line sucks, and she's like "It's a great time to make friends!" To which BLM replies that we really don't care much for friends. Then she talks about how we should have pre-registered! To which BLM replies (smooth as shit through a duck's-ass like; seriously, he wasn't even up from tying his shoe when he got the line out and damn... it turned ETP on) that the pre-reg line looks like hell, too. "But you don't have to fill out any forms!" Yeah, the forms that ETP and BOETP had to fill out last year which took all of ten seconds.

ETP makes the mistake of asking about how long the line is, and someone else starts in with how it's going to be an hour or two and blah blah blah and last year blah blah blah and some shit about pandas. ETP apparently tuned out the part about pandas and now wishes he told the girl about the time he killed a panda because it looked at him funny. Fuck pandas... And bees! Upon reflection, perhaps BLM made up the part about pandas because he was trying desperately to tune the bitch out as well. But none of us would be surprised if that's how it went down. Upon further reflection, BOETP has indeed confirmed some nonsense about pandas having been in there.

Flashback to White Castle: "I'm done." ETP makes the final judgment on what BLM has been calling for, and we pile into the Yuppiemobile and get the fuck out of there. Which, to be honest, was better in a lot of ways, just like Portillos was better in a lot of ways. To start, we could all do with cutting back on the discretionary spending. Sure, each of us went in with a short list of stuff we were looking to buy, but the past two cons we really went into with no list -- and we all know how that shit turned out: with mountains of legally-sanctioned, thinly-veiled child pornography!

In addition to the monetary benefits, it was probably for the better just in terms of general mental health. Not being bombarded with the aforementioned awful cosplayers for the rest of the day was a definite plus. In addition to just plain not wanting to get sick, there's always the potential that you can see something so incredibly awful that it can ruin something you really, really like -- such as girls in sailor schoolgirl outfits. There are quite a few of those running around any anime con, but of course they're almost entirely low-quality outfits on correspondingly low-quality gai-jin girls. BLM has become kind of a purist on this whole sailor girl thing; unless if you're A) Japanese (or at least Asian since they all, uh, nevermind) and B) cute, you're probably just wasting our time and quite possibly our lunch.

Things smelled a whole hell of a lot better, and we didn't have to deal without all of the morons talking about things only they and their loser friends think are important... SHUT UP BITCH!!! This is something we never do, and would appreciate everyone else knocking it the fuck off.

Once we high-tail it out of there, we're like, now what? We came all the way out here, so no sense wasting the day. BOETP suggests doing something pretentious -- we're good at that. So we head down to Cherry Creek, an upscale (for Denver) shopping district. BLM is just itching to check out the brand-new Crate & Barrel, BOETP needs to see the new fall Ralph line, and ETP needs Tweekend because, let's face it, that's the name of the game. Plus there's plenty of other shit in the area to hit, so we go ahead with our Creek plan, and yeah, it's better. By day's end, we've spent next to nothing. Sure, we went around looking at things like furniture and stereo equipment, but we didn't buy any of it. In the end, the con helped ETP and BOETP save some cash for other high-end merchandise that they're going to buy, and it helped BLM save money for shit that he's already bought.

By day's end, we felt pretty successful. Minimal money spent, only a few dipshits and awful cosplayers seen. All we could do was look at one another and say, "Good con guys!"

Oh, and just because BOETP wants to say it: "SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS SIDEWAYS!!! LET ME KNOW HOW THAT WORKS OUT FOR YOU!!!"

Speaking of sterilized bullshit... Look, I understand not wanting to wallow in victimhood and all, but pretending shit didn't happen doesn't change what happened. I also find it slightly distasteful having a museum in the capitol of the country that was founded on the near annihilation of the people whose "history" the museum is putting on display.

Man, if I were even slightly in touch with my Indian roots, I might be even more irritated by this. But I don't really have any credibility there seeing as how I can never even remember what tribe my family descends from. Of course, I could swear that the reason for that is because every time I ask my grandmother, the answer is different. But it's probably just that I'm a forgetful shit.

Quick adventure in racism for 'ya. This one kid I knew back in high school started calling me Running Bear for some reason at one point. This was before he knew that I had Indian blood in me (yes, I'm going to keep using the non-pc term, partly because I can... that's what my family uses, so fuck everyone else). Once he found out that I was part Indian, he felt pretty bad. But he didn't give a shit before he knew (part of) my lineage. I've mentioned this kid before; he's a good guy for the most part. He was (and still is) just way too fucking white.

The two campaigns have agreed on rules for the upcoming debates. And yeah, those'll be bullshit, too. I'm biased, of course, but can't help but think that a good deal of those rules were lobbied hard for by Team Bush in an effort to keep him looking as not retarded as possible.

I'm telling you, someone at The Onion has been reading my site. That, or, not. I also cared a great deal for this comment in the "What Do You Think?" on antidepressant use in children, which some say actually causes kids to kill themselves:

"Kids with depression see through all the bullshit that everyone else accepts. The Prozac just gives them the clarity of mind to follow through with what they need to do."

"September 11 has served not as a starting point from which to better understand the world but as an excuse not to understand it at all."

Yeah, pretty much.

Hey, what's up? Let's get shit rolling again around here by posting a link on a combination we can all get on board with: booze and guns.