Justin Bieber and Toe Cleavage

Q. How do we know that the suit against Justin Bieber for assault will never go to court?

A. Because no one will admit that Justin Bieber beat them up.

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Toe Cleavage?


Glad you asked, Billy.  Tell me, do you like gladiator movies?

My twenty-something niece told my forty-something wife about toe cleavage.  My wife told me.  It was immediately obvious to me what it was; in fact, I remember seeing a picture of some famous female on a runway and thinking to myself why couldn't she afford proper sized shoes - her toes barely fit in them.

Apparently this is an acknowledged issue in these wild days of 2012, when either the Big One is going to come get us or nothing too far out of the ordinary will happen in late December.  I predict gas gouging and a smaller holiday because no one can afford Stuff anymore.  And that our new president will be more of the same.

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So apparently face-eating is caused by bath salts.  Or something.
No, really.  The police found some guy eating another guy's face and he growled at them.  He was found to be under the influence of bath salts.

OMG - my wife bathes in that stuff all the time!

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Speaking of face-eating, my ultra nice wife kept offering me the evening off.  It might just be her kindness responding to my morose attitude toward mowing the lawn.  She told me to sit and relax.  I told her I had to mow the lawn.  She said that the lawn could wait a day.  I said it was going be the lawn because the two things I dread most in life are the dentist and the lawn and I went to the dentist yesterday.

I decided not to waste too many words on yesterday's visit to my genuinely caring dentist, Dr. Mengele.  In truth, I don't feel much pain from either the good doctor or mowing the lawn, yet I'm terrified of visiting the doctor.   It was never this way until recently and I have no idea why.  Never mind that my one and a half hour slot had me seated for over two hours.  Perhaps I can describe my terror better this way: while seated, I do not look into the deep blue eyes of the dental technician nor do I even think of looking down her shirt.  Yes, I'm that scared.  I even forget the view I got following her down the hall to the damage dental suite.

Since I merely loathe mowing the lawn, it was off to locate the mower.  In theory, the mower is in the same place I left it, so it shouldn't be too difficult to locate.  In practice, however, all sorts of things could have happened, up to and including full dematerialization and rematerialization in a different dimension altogether.   I think this might have something to do with string theory but in truth, the only string theory that matters is will the string that starts the mower be intact when I pull it two or ten times to start the infernal beast.

Most likely the mower is just hidden under the new growth of grass.  The grass grows really quickly here in Pennsylvania, largely due to the rainy season.  Our rainy season runs from about March 13 to about February 29.  April showers bring May showers and it rains most of June.

Sometimes we worry that the dog won't be able to find his way back to the door because the grass is already taller than he is and I mowed two weeks ago.  I tried to cover all the unnecessary grass with concrete but discovered that, due to drainage, this is not legal.

So the bugger started on about the eighth try and off I trudged to do my husbandly duty.   One of the obstacles to mowing is plants.  Unfortunately the definition of plants differs wildly from my wife to me.  I tend to largely mow over most anything that's vaguely green, much to the consternation of my wife.

The other obstacle would be the still dormant planting material; the very material that put the Crazy Lady next door over the edge and forced her to call the county on us.  I figured that after I was finished, there would be enough grass clippings laying about to potentially put the Crazy Lady further over the edge.  Can you imagine the call to the county?

Mrs. Crazy Lady:  Hello, I want to complain.
Poor County Employee:  How are you, Mrs. Crazy  Lady?
Mrs. Crazy Lady:  Oh, terrible.  My horrible, slovenly neighbors have done it again.
Poor County Employee:  What is it this time - someone throw a candy wrapper on their lawn?  More than one bag of trash in their can?  Color of their house not up to spec?
Mrs. Crazy Lady:  Remember the planting materials?
Poor County Employee:   How could I ever forget, Mrs. Crazy Lady?
Mrs. Crazy Lady:  They mowed their lawn and didn't sweep it up.
Poor County Employee:   We'll send a SWAT team immediately.  Now go take your  meds.

My wife keeps telling me we have to be nice to her.  I keep asking why.  She keeps telling me because she's old and our neighbor.  I keep telling her that good neighbors don't call the county on their neighbors.  She shook her head and let on that Mrs. Crazy Lady's hip had given out and that she was in a lot of pain.

Ok, I had to admit I felt a little bad for her.  Here she is, 347 years old (quite young for her species), and she was in serious pain.  My wife says this is when neighbors lend a hand.  I had no choice but to agree and offered her a helping hand - a push whenever she's at the top of a set of stairs.

That's not wrong, is it?

Questions - We Have Questions

Does Down Syndrome affect black people?

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Don't you think that, sometime before Beaver College changed their name to Arcadia, the cub scouts would rename the Weblos?

Funny story, that.  

For some reason, I found myself in the cub scouts.  And I was apparently a Weblo, which was pretty funny even then.  I don't remember getting much from the experience but there I was.

One day they decided they were going to clean up the trash in the woods by my house.  The area was used largely for drinking and partying by older kids and was an unholy mess.  Along came the Appointed Morning, Saturday, and my alarm was going off at eight a.m.  

I found myself at an existential crossroads at that moment.  But like a bolt of lightning, it hit me: I was not an altruist (in its most pure form).  If I had bothered to drag myself out of bed and assist in the cleanup, the entire area would be dirty again within weeks.  This wasn't what I wanted to do with my free time, especially the free time I spent sleeping on weekends.  I promptly phoned in my resignation from the `Blos'.

Now for the irony:

I work for a social services non-profit.  One would be correct to inquire as to how my lack of altruism found me working at this sort of place.  Most people work there due to their beliefs or altruism.  Don't tell anyone but I work there because they accepted my resume when I needed a job.

One of the activities my socially-minded workplace engages in is cleaning up the crack park on Martin Luther King day.  And the following year, to celebrate, they go out and clean the crack park again.

I did not know Dr. King.  I didn't spend a lot of time reading up on the gentleman.  But I believe I know enough to understand that he was for education and lifting one's self up, not cleaning up drug paraphernalia year after year.

Needless to say, I do not volunteer for the effort.

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Say lefty - is exercise as bad for you as you always say?

For some, exercise may INCREASE heart attack risk.

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So why does radio suck these days?

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A present: Sofia Vergara spot.

For my birthday, I simply asked for Mila Kunis or Sofia Vergara.  I ask for so little - and that's precisely what I got.

Wives typically don't have a very good sense of humor (except mine: she married me).

The Day After Memorial Day

Rather than raise my flag on Memorial Day and risk the wrath of the entire internet, I motion we use the Day After Memorial Day as an official holiday for thinking people.

There has been and continues to be no reason for good Americans to lose their lives.  Think about it for a moment: the brave folks over in Afghanistan are not fighting for `our rights'.  We have people in way too many countries all over the earth who are not fighting for our rights.

The people who lost their lives or sanity in Iraq were not fighting for our rights.  Same for Vietnam.  In fact, if people want to fight for our rights, the place to do it is at the ballot box, one the phone, and in email.  A nasty little insurgent force in Afghanistan does not want to limit our rights: DC does.

We have lots hundreds of thousands of brave people in wars for other interests; be it oil, land grabs, or whatever else.  We are losing basic rights in our own country, not to mention our economy.  And guess what: it's not directly our fault.  We have, however, allowed it to happen.

So let's take today, the Day After Memorial Day, to think on the real reasons for our wars.  To think of the delusion that makes honorable people stand up and `serve'.

Wouldn't it be nice to see the arms industry begging for a handout instead of continuing the lunacy?

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Record 45% of Iraq and Afghanistan vets have filed for disability.

Catching Up Around the Mansion

NEIGHBORS - WE HAVE NEIGHBORS

Remember the Crazy Lady next door?  The one who called the township because we had some plating materials on our lawn?  The county inspector was fairly amused at the entire claim.   Well, he apparently hadn't seen nothing yet because Sparky, the alzheimers-addled old fellow out back, called the township because one of his neighbors `had too many birdhouses in her yard'.  The poor inspector... he has to be wondering what's in the air over our block (nothing but black clouds, of course).


SO, WHAT ARE THE PETS INTO TODAY?

Everything.

Marshall the cocker is sitting on my lap the other day, content to have his flaps rubbed.  All of the sudden my wife sits down with a bag of Cheesy Poofs.  Marshall's radar clicked on with an audible BANG and his head rotated 180 degrees and kept locked on that bag of Cheesy Poofs.  Whenever the bag moved slightly, the head followed (keeping the proper angle so he could get rubbed also).

Finally he abandoned all pretense of sitting with me and devoted 100% of his attention to the orange bag on Mommy's lap.  Since Mommy was half asleep (Cheesy Poofs - breakfast of champions), she was moving a Cheesy Poof toward her mouth when Marshall intercepted it.  He crunched greedily.

The only thing better than Cheesy Poofs is kettle corn.  And the only thing better than kettle corn is CAT FOOD!

Speaking of which, my wife came downstairs this morning to a heartwarming sight:  Marshall had located the bag of Cheesy Poofs and was in the process of eviscerating it.  But he was sharing with Satan the cat, which is so sweet.  Marshall's method of consumption is akin to a vacuum cleaner.  Satan just sat there, licking one Cheesy Poof busily.

Normally I'd be upset but they're my wacky kids.  Plus there's a hidden agenda...  I only like Bachmann Cheese Jax.  My wife feels the same, however, every time she goes shopping, she seems to forget this and bring home a different brand.  Since I won't eat them, the pets are just doing me a favor: we're just going to need more so another shopping trip is in order.

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Just in case there were any doubts, Bill Clinton still has it.  Now let me ask you how many famous people `who should know better' pose for pictures with just anyone?  And why couldn't he display this level of taste while he was in office?

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There was encouraging news today from the world of the Great Unwashed.  Americans Idle has dropped thirty percent in the ratings, for its lowest finale ever.

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Lastly, I wanted to send everyone some good news for once.  I know this blog sometimes portends doom, whether at my house or in the world in general.  Today I bring you actual good news.

Gridlock is easing up in many metropolitan areas.

I thought to myself `how wonderful' and then wondered how gridlock can ease if there is no additional road surface to contain the volume.  Stupid me, I assumed the volume was constant.  No, the reason there is less gridlock is that the economy is in the toilet and gas gouging is at record levels.

But at least I got to bring you good news for once.

If Facebook Goes Below $30.....

Will it shut down completely?

We can only hope that someday we will be waving goodbye to Faceyspaces.

But then there's Americans Idle....

Failing Spatial Relationships [or Gig Report]

My band got to play its favorite club on Friday.  It's our favorite club because it books us and it's practically at the end of my street.  It's also across the street from The One True Pizza, which never hurts.

The band makes a point of arriving at least two hours early so we can set up.  Using New Math<tm>, that allows the six of us twenty minutes each to set things up, plus thirty seven minutes each to complain.

Unfortunately the band got its math wrong and used all fifty seven minutes (each) to complain.  Because we were setting up differently than the previous time, there erupted four different conversations about how exactly to set up.  Since the owner said something to the effect of `set up THERE', I chose to set up THERE.

This was not sufficient for my esteemed cohorts.  They got out their fung shui manuals and proceeded to argue about the right way to set up.  Another set discussed their Vision for our setup.  Yet another had a Bad Feeling about the location.

After I damn near carefully set up the p.a. system, they asked me the best place for the speakers.  I suggested exactly where I put them.  Two minutes later I watched them moving the speakers.

I had to fetch my wife after sound check because for some strange reason, she didn't want to sit there for two hours and watch us debate where to put the drums.  Aside from her choice in men, she's a very wise woman.

Unfortunately it was getting rather close to sound check time and most of us weren't set up yet.  My agitation level had passed the roof and was headed for the clouds.  It was an easier night for me because only one pedal and a guitar string was giving me trouble.  When only two things break, it's a light night.  I travel with a small army of gear because everything breaks.

By the time we achieved fung shui and the karma was exactly right, we managed to eke out a song to check our sound.  I rushed to get my wife.  She was on the step and when she saw me, she did the only thing she could: she walked back inside the house.  My wife is not a girly girl and she doesn't generally keep me waiting.  As the car clock indicated it was 8:33, the band was supposed to be three minutes into its first set (had we discussed a starting time).  I made this point rather loudly to the wife when she reappeared.

Things looked no different when I returned.  While it is not advertised, we specialize in Milling About, and we were doing our best.  Shortly thereafter, we launched into our first set.

In retrospect, nobody is entirely sure what happened during the first set.  What didn't happen was a good band playing together.  Much speculation has gone into this.  I think our percussion department was actually playing with the band at the bar down the street.  Others were playing to their own internal drummer.  I'm not sure, but I might have been onstage with Hendrix at Woodstock, messing things up.

After the set, I chose to make my one positive statement for the year: good thing we brought the crowd or we'd be TOAST.  The optimists agreed.  But I hate optimists.  They're the kind of people who say `we had some problems but it could have been worse'.

My wife was under the weather so I had to take her home.  This was complicated by my arch enemy: seatbelts.  I maintain that seatbelts are only good for three things:

1. holding your dead body inside the car after a crash
2. preventing you from reaching your cell phone
3. stopping the car door from closing

Suffice it to say the neighbors must have thought there was a satanic entity loose in the neighborhood from all the noise.  And in the three seconds that I turned around, Marshall the Cocker got into the kettle corn.  Again.  This was his third bag.  Between that and the tissues, the dog loves his fiber.

The second set went better, but only in the sense that there were no overt train wrecks.  It's kinda sad when something is better because it wasn't as bad as the previous try.  At least we all seemed to be playing with the same group in the same location.

Speaking of playing with, we seemed to have forgotten our stage manners.  Between songs, we appeared to be playing with ourselves and adjusting our trusses.  In other words, it took rather long to get to the next song on the list.

We were partially saved by our youthful exuberance.... we manage to appear to be having a great time no matter what happens.  We were also partially saved by the singer's daughter, with the voice of an angel (and the body of something further south).  Once we convinced her boyfriend to remove his hands from under her shirt, she joined us for some serious rocking.  I told her not to come to class unless she brings enough for all of us.  I spent the next hour running from her father, the singer :)

My outlets somehow managed to situate themselves in a place convenient to the bassist's feet.  He was bumping and grinding to the music, simultaneously turning my amp and effects off and on.  It took me a while to catch on to this effect, which seems much funnier now.

I have some sort of back issue that gets really bad with standing.  This makes being in a band a rather painful experience.  My wife, the genius, recommended that I carry aspirin and take it before the pain sets in.  She reminded me of this all week, which will indicate to any of my loyal readers that I forgot the aspirin.  By the end of the second set, I thought I might have to be carried onstage and sit in a chair (I'm normally very active onstage).  Fortunately the adrenaline overcame the pain and we made it through the third set.

What continues to surprise me is the reaction to Jeff Beck and Jimi Hendrix songs.  People seriously liked them.  I never would have thought so....

I somehow managed to get my stuff into the car (it had put on serious weight since I brought it in) and limped on home.  Two ibuprofen and an hour later, I was erect (so to speak) and off to sleep.

Next up is a huge block party and pig roast in June.   I often say I have two bands: one that comes to practice and doesn't play well or know its songs, and one that shows up to gigs and plays wonderfully.  I sure hope the good one comes to the block party.

Up in Milford, CT, a firefighter was innocently driving down the road, when the police pulled him over.  He wasn't speeding.  His papers were in order.

Why was he stopped?

Because he was radioactive.

He had a medical test earlier that involved radiation.  He was even given a paper stating he had the test.  Apparently a radiation detector in a police car picked up the firefighter.

• There is a medical test that leaves the testee this radioactive?
• Police cars have radiation detectors?
• Police cars have radiation detectors that can detect a guy who has just had a medical test?

I had no idea the National Security State had reduced itself to this level.  I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by now....

Observations from Venus

So I'm at dinner with friends last week when we notice that dinner is not cooking as quickly as anybody hoped.  After checking in with the cook, it was determined that the culprit was the oven.  After nearly an hour, the pork chops were still cold.  Fifteen minutes under the broiler and they were done.

Yes, this particular oven doesn't like pork chops.  I was tempted to say it didn't like pork at all, but the oven has previously demonstrated that it could cook pork roast.  As it turns out, this is not the only thing the oven doesn't like.  Turkey is another meat that will not cook in the oven.  Chicken yes, turkey no.

Experts from all over the cooking world are being called in to examine the recalcitrant food heating unit.  If I were a betting man, I'd put my money on hands in the air and quizzical looks.  Because I work at a non-profit, I can't even afford to wager on bets I am certain to win.

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I work with the salt of the earth.  Better coworkers I could not ask for, although their spouses may not entirely agree.

One fellow, who we'll call Bart, has been tending to a strangely sick cat for a while, trying to figure out what's wrong.  Unfortunately the answer is terminal and the kitty will have to be euthanized before they feel he's suffering.  The cat has been anorexic for a while and Bart believes the time is now.  Mrs. Bart, however, takes exception to the idea.  Just the other day she picked him up protectively, glared angrily at Bart, and said to the cat, "Daddy wants to kill you."

I have always suspected theirs was an interesting marriage.

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After marrying my wife, I inherited quite a few interesting sisters-in-law.  One was particularly large.  She stuck with the trend and is now so massive, she has her own gravity field.  In order to appear to be doing something about her massivity, she joined a step club.  

Cynics would say that if she spent one to three days less per week at the bar, the tons would slide off like mad.  

The step club gave everyone a pedometer, which meters how many steps the wearer has taken.  I believe the goal was 1500 per day.  One day upon realizing that she was nowhere near 1500, she demanded her husband wear it to work - so she could get the points for it.

Cynics would suggest they increase the distance between her house and the bar.

One night she waddled home from the bar, clearly in no condition to waddle.  It would have been better for her to call a cab to take her the whole block home.  In any case, she was so hungry, she kept picking up the tv remote, insisting it was a package of cheese crackers.

Low in sodium, high in iron, one would guess.

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Alyson Stupidland

It's been days since we've heard from the TSA, therefore it's time.  The TSA has finally come out on top.  Yes, the TSA always gets their man... errr... woman.... errrr... toddler.  Ever watchful, the TSA detected the 18 month old's name on the no-fly list and promptly removed the baby and her family from the plane.

Yup, you really gotta watch out for those foreign toddlers, especially the quiet ones.

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You know, with all the idiots, perverts and child molesters running for president, it's good to know that Mexico still has a few tricks up its sleeve to show the gringos.  Let's make elections fun, if not downright interesting and thought-provoking.

It is sad, however, that politics still raises its ugly head, as topless does not actually mean topless.

Mitt Romney has been shown to have led the bullying of another student in college.  While bullying is bad, he will no doubt hold this up as an indicator of his ability to lead.

Speaking of leading, a jailed inmate in West Virginia won forty percent of the vote in the primary, over President Obama.

Yes, the ObamaChrist proclaimed his support for gay marriage, but no, the White House will not fight the Defense of Marriage Act.   Would you call me cynical for saying this was a press op?

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Stimpy, the wealth of your ignorance amazes me.

--> They don't call me Stupid for nothing!

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Fort Lee, New Jersey (of course, New Jersey) is starting to crack down on dangerous walking.  In civilized states (and Pennsylvania) we call that handing out tickets for texting and walking.

Fortunately I have a teflon alibi: I don't go to New Jersey and I can't walk and breathe at the same time.

Take off Your Tin Foil Helmets.....

The U.S. and Russian military will be engaging in an anti-terrorism exercise that will involve Russian paratroopers using U.S. weapons to “take and hold” the main facilities of the CIA and Denver International Airport in Colorado and the National Security Agency in Utah.

So, we have foreign (some would say enemy) troops on US soil that are going to take over CIA, NSA, and state buildings.  All this during an anti-terrorism exercise.

Does it have to be spelled out to you any further?
This is practice.  A warm-up.
It's for our own safety.
It's for the children.

This (sad) Week in Review

Munich nymphomaniac claims second victim in 36 hour marathon.  Ok, the story smells a bit but the wording is hysterical.  It's worth the price of admission (free).  And when you're done there, click here for a very thoughtful response from Salon.  The lady has a point.

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Who is Dania Suarez?  She is the 24 year old woman at the center of the Secret Service prostitution problem.  She wants you to know that she's not a prostitute - she simply requested a little present of $800. Apparently they have a decent class of prostitutes in Colombia, as this one has implants.

Readers, let me be clear:  so long as tax dollars weren't used to pay for Professionals and there were no secrets spilled, why should I care what the Secret Service does on its off time?  They do a great job and deserve to blow off steam.  In addition, the government doesn't have any right to tell anyone what they can and can't do with their body.

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Why is the controlled mass media lying about the massive attendance at Ron Paul gatherings?  I'll bet it's related to the vote totals....

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Psssssst.... the re-education camps are being readied.  You know.... for terrorists.  And American citizens.

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Senator Rand Paul wants to abolish the TSA.  His brightest idea ever.

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The absolute winner of any article I've read this week would have to be this one...  

When Microsoft wants things done right, they rely on linux.   M$ bought Skype and recently upgraded their servers to a specialized hardened linux.

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PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT

I have seen a couple of news items about state treasuries having tons of money and items that are unclaimed by residents.  Today I searched for the Pennsylvania State Treasury and located a number of items were waiting for me to claim them, some from many years ago.  Do a search for your state's treasury and unclaimed items.  Maybe there's something waiting for you.

Tittilation Triumphs from the Twilight Zone

There were three four five brief items that made a huge impact on me today at work:

1. I have long believed that my coworkers are animals who were raised by wolves.  This is routinely proven by the fact that they never clean anything up.  Today I noted (the hard way) that they have de-evolved to the point that they no longer flush.
2. The number three person in the company stopped by to request that the locking code be removed from her cell phone because it was not convenient.   --> Security:  It's Not Convenient <--
3. One of our marketing people was on the local news morning magazine for an impressive ten minute segment.  During the entire segment, he failed to mention his employer.  The contact info on the web page goes to an ex-employee.  And he never told a single coworker he was on tv.
4. My department has six birthdays this month, so we decided to celebrate together.  Cakes were purchased.  In ninety minutes, one of the cakes was taken out of the fridge and left on a table, where the animals consumed it.  One dare not complain, lest he deny the right of the thief to steal his food.
5. The company has had no mail delivery for two days because the driver is on vacation.  In Philadelphia.  Small wonder they're insolvent.

You simply can't make this stuff up.