Blue Star: Part 2

Part 1 is in the October Archives...

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Adrian was surprised when Kidd showed up in a Black Lexus SUV, and sporting a pair of slacks and a sport coat. But his new look still matched his seemingly adventurous lifestyle. They met in front of a Target store at 10am. It was Kidd’s idea—some odd gesture of chivalry or polite dating, as not to impose the pressures of disclosing private addresses at such an early stage in courtship. And meeting at the KFC would have been a tacky unimaginative suggestion. In lieu of flowers, Kidd presented Adrian with a new pair of ‘Eagle Eyes’ sunglasses—another off-beat surprise.

Adrian did not look pretty. She was beautiful. Adorned in a very low cut white dress with matching white heels, a light blue sweater, and the most eye catching necklace Kidd had ever seen; dangling on a silver chain was a light blue gemstone pendant at least an inch and a half in diameter. It sparkled like a huge 25 carat blue diamond. And when Adrian slid onto the soft leather ivory seat, she did so as if riding side saddle, with a grace and manner of a princess. This did not go unnoticed by Kidd, whose eyes immediately looked down and got stuck on pause.
“What are you looking at?” The gentle lady said, transforming into a modern day woman and effectively hitting play. Kidd looked up and apologetically replied, “Sorry, I was envious of your legs, compared to my own that I have to cover up with slacks to hide the horror beneath.”

Twenty minutes into their trip to San Francisco, Adrian pulls a 360 on all of Kidd’s glamorous plans for time out in the City. “Let’s go to Disneyland instead.” She said chuckling. “What?” Kidd replied, showing a hint of annoyance at being trumped, and knowing he would basically agree to anything she wanted.
“We can drive down today, and go tomorrow, first thing in the morning.” Her eyes sparkled as she stared at her invisible plans floating between her and the windshield.
Kidd heaved a sigh. “Sounds pretty good I guess, haven’t been to Disneyland in a while.” Adrian beamed a smile and Kidd added, “But I have a better idea. We’re half way to SFO already. We can take my leer jet and be in L.A. in less than an hour. Better yet, we can fly into Santa Barbara; spend the day there instead of wasting it driving. Then we can hop into Orange County tonight and hit the town, and recuperate in Disneyland tomorrow.” Kidd glanced at Adrian and raised an eyebrow, fishing for an approval. Adrian sat and looked at Kidd quizzically. Leer Jet? What kind of guy is this Kidd anyway?
“Okay. I can’t believe this?” Adrian said, incredulously. “I love Santa Barbara. You have a jet? You can fly?”
“Yup, ever since I was a kid I wanted to have a plane. After I read about the Hardy Boy’s flying their father’s Cessna. Fenton Hardy was the father.”
“I didn’t read the Hardy Boys. I only read Nancy Drew, and I read one of that other book, what was it? Umm…Oh yeah, Tom Swift!”
“I can’t believe you read a Tom Swift book,” Kidd said, surprised. “I thought only guys read that book. I had like 20 Tom Swift books.”
“Well, I was a Tom Boy as a kid, no pun intended…The book I read was about pirates in the sky or something. I think they ought to have a modern day version of Tom Swift.”
“Yeah, I read that one too. It was Pirates on an Asteroid or something. It would be cool if Steven Spielberg took over writing a new Tom Swift series.”
“Ha ha!” Adrian laughed.
Adrian gazed at Kidd and gave him a long level look. It seemed like a life time ago since last she felt this comfortable talking with anyone.

…To be continued.

Catalina Coup

Photo, by Sam.romilly on flickr

The Communist Party Central Committee (CPCC) has publicly revealed a new World threat: Intelligent Cats. The Cat shown here, Son Lik Paa is the King of Hearts on the CPCC watch list. Working out of North Korea, this Cat is thought to be part of a world wide ring of intelligent cats thought responsible for artificially spreading the Bird Flu world wide.


According to the World Health Organization (WHO), Son Lik Paa and other Cat gang leaders are believed to have the intelligence of 10 year olds. “This has extraordinary implication”, says WHO’s international director Mark Hamm. “Humans have geniuses, and so do animals. What this means is that these cats are capable of a dangerous level of thinking, communication, organization, and emotion.”

After thousands of years of cat consumption in Asia, Son Lik Paa has had enough. His underground is responsible for freeing at least 2 million doomed cats per year from being served on the dinner plate.

Cat, by martie1swart on flickr

Meow Tse Tung, shown here, is the Ace of Spades working out of Beijing. He is purported to understand 7 languages/Chinese dialects, including Burmese, Taiwanese, Shanghinese, Mandarin, Cantonese, and Haka. The Center of disease Control (CDC) has labeled him the mastermind behind the spread of the Bird Flu to Canada and soon the United States. He lost his entire family at a New Years banquette celebration when he was just a kitten. Meow Tse Tung can actually write Chinese characters faster than humans by using his five claw nails simultaneously rather than one brush stroke at a time. Chinese is easy for him because he just needs ink, and it looks like cat scratch anyway. He has written to the Chinese newspapers with his intent to win by numbers. He reveals he has organized cat breeding facilities, and claims there are now at least 10 billion cats in China under his command. “There will be no negotiation.” Writes Meow Tse Tung. “You will be punished for your practice of Cat Rights Violations. We have allied with our sworn enemies, the Birds. And we have harnessed the power of the Bird Flu.”

Cat In Pumpkin Hat, by photoadvisor.com

“What’s scary,” says CIA director John Smith, “is that these cats have no intention of trying to stop the cat genocide per se. They are focused on eliminating Humans.” The Queen of Hearts, alias “Birdi”, seen here, is part of a cell in Canada with a plan to spread the Bird Flu across the border into the United States. She looks adorable, but has many disguises, blends in with other cats and is impossible to pinpoint.

Cats and Dogs, by Petteri Sulonen on flickr

Birdi has several son’s; the eldest is ‘Lunch Meat’, the Jack of Hearts, and operates a cell out of Wisconsin. He is less disciplined, but ruthless, shown here being purrmiscuous, taking advantage of his natural enemy; the dog. He is actively recruiting cat pets in the US to their cause, convincing them that they are mere slaves to the Human thirst for companionship. There is known to be roughly 65 million cat pets in the US.

The FBI issued a code red Cat Terror Alert, and advises all pet owner’s in the US to be vigilant. Some things to look for in your cat:

Look for unusual behavior.
--If your cat no longer attacks birds.
--If they bring home suspicious looking friends.
--If they stay out late at night.
--If you find them sneaking around.
--If they seem detached and want to do their own thing.
--If they appear to be ‘thinking’.
--They get mad at you for no apparent reason.
--They’ve learned stuff you did not teach them.
--If you find them talking to birds, or other strange cats.
--If their claws have been dipped in ink.
--If they seem to eat more than usual (they may be supplying food for the underground)
--If they’re no longer interested in cat nip.
--They start watching TV.
If you see ANY of these signs, please contact you local FBI offices. Your cat may be in danger of being recruited into the Meow Tse Tung gang.

Witch thought extinct rediscovered

SALEM Oct 20, 2005 — The red ribbon witch, once prized for its red ribbon and sought by American Indians as magical, was thought to be extinct for years. Now it's been sighted again and conservationists are exulting.
The striking witch, last seen in 1939, has been rediscovered in the Dark Woods area of Salem Massachusetts, scientists and conservationists reported Thursday.
"This is thrilling beyond words … after 66 years of fading hope that we would ever see this spectacular witch again," Patrick S. Stumpworth, grand warlock of the Wolf Covenant, said at a news conference.
Since early 2004 there have been several independent sightings, including one caught on videotape, of one or more of the witches, Stumpworth said.
That video of the witches 4-foot tall frame and distinctive red markings on the head and feet confirmed the presence of the creature that seemed to have vanished after excess witch hunting destroyed its habitat.
The discovery of living examples of a breed believed to be extinct is rare, said Kassandra Pagany, director of science at the National Witching Society. "Wow," she said. "This is tremendous."
Interior Secretary Tess Desmond and Wicca Culture Secretary Anton Blavatsky promised millions of dollars in federal assistance to work with the state and local residents to protect this witch.
"Don't love this witch to death," Desmond added, saying there have been a lot of witch watchers swarming the area to get a glimpse.
Stumpworth’s report was released by the American Association for the Advancement of Science, which is publishing the study in the Journal of Witchcraft Science, and also announced by the Nature Conservancy.
Bevan Broomsmith of Ontario, Canada, said the discovery brought tears to his eyes. Broomsmith was part of the Blair Witch Covenant that spent a month unsuccessfully trying to confirm reports of the red ribbon witch in Louisiana in 2001.
"The implications are staggering," he said.
(Note:  Please enhance the red ribbon witch image into any mentally artistic or realistic imagery that comes to mind.)   

Loser

So I was feeling a little down when I met my buddy at the bowling alley. I carried my ball in a large paint bucket because my brother had used my bowling bag to hold the bounty he caught on a fishing trip.

The first thing my buddy said was, “you look like a loser. No one carries their ball in a bucket!”

So we sat down in the alley for a cup of coffee before our game, and my buddy asks, “Would you rob a bank if you had a ‘get out of jail free card’ ?”
“What kind of question is that?” I said.
“Well, would you?”
“Nah, I’d rather rob an armored car, less people involved.”
“How would you do it?”
“Without hurting anybody,“ I said. “It would have to be an inside job.”
“I could be the insider.” He said.
“No, you’re an idiot, and can’t lie if your life depended on it.”
“True.” He said. “But I don’t want to split it with anyone else, so you would have to be the insider.”
“Who said you’d be in on it?”
“It was my idea?”
“This is not even real, you’re not going to be part of it.”
“Then I’ll tell.”
“Go ahead, it’s not even real, and besides I get a ‘get out of jail free card.”
“I can’t believe you’d cut me out like that, and it was my idea.” He said.
“Well you’re ratting me out, before I even have a plan! Idiot!”
“I couldn’t trust you anyway!”
“Look who’s talking. Rat!”
He gets up to go to the head. While he’s away, a cute girl says goodbye to her friends, and comes up and looks in my bucket. She thought there was a kitten in there or something. We start talking and my buddy comes back from the head with a hand full of paper towels he uses to clean the holes of the rental bowling balls. He takes over the conversation and asks her if she knew where he can get some cheap bowling shoes. (he hates having to use rental shoes that others have worn.) And she knows someone! They get into a conversation and I find out she’s related to Pocahontas. I sit there watching them interact and realize I’m out of the equation. After 15 minutes they end up leaving together, and I’m left alone with my bucket feeling like a loser and thanking God I wasn’t wearing my bowling shirt. I did not even get to bowl. Whose cutting who out, I thought. And it was MY bucket, and she was MY catch!

So I order a cheese burger and pushed the bucket out with my foot to see what else I could catch. A girl soon comes up and looks in the bucket, then smiles at me. But she’s like 9 years old. I ask her, “your not really in your 30’s, but look really young are you?” (hey, you never know.) She says, “no” and walks away. Then I see her with her friends looking in my direction giggling. I feel like a loser…

Right and Wrong

Right

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Wrong

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Right

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Wrong

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Right

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Wrong

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The above associated drawings are imaginary drawings, pictures if you will in your mind.  You can't see them unless you tap into the infinite hologramatical universe where they are filed in the DNA of  electromagnetic pulses created by holistic bits of code.

For the following, you have to first imagine looking at a photo of a grid with black lines and white dots at each intersection of black lines.  

How many black dots can you count at any one time?

Are the black dots really there? Or do we just perceive they are there?

Perhaps the difference between right and wrong is not there either.

Perhaps we just create a perception of right and wrong to help us survive in this physical world.

Blue Star: Part 1

Okay, I decided to write a story as a hobby, in addition to my Monday Funny. I thought I'd post it on my blog as I write it, for those that may feel like reading sometime, and so I can read it too. I never tried to write a long story before because I have no patience, or any real writing skills. But if I do it in short parts, maybe I can hang with it. It’s fun so far, so I think I will just do it and see how it goes.

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Kidd Parker was a big man with a big appetite. At six foot three and a trim 230 pounds, he found himself eating a lot. It was warm out, but he felt cool in his sleeveless black tee-shirt and blue jeans, sitting on his Harley Heritage Classic smoking a cig, and eying the attractive girl in the KFC through the window. He had already eaten at Arby’s, but now he craved a chicken sandwich, a coke, and the girl behind the counter. He put the cig out on the bottom of his boot and walked in, still wearing his shades. He took long fluid strides and moved effortlessly with animal grace. The enormous strength in his legs propelled him forward like a well tuned machine, and his confident demeanor gave him an overpowering presence.
“Hi.”
“Hi, how can I help you?” The woman behind the counter spoke calmly, but stared at the intrusive looking customer with a hint of fear.
“Can I have a Coke and a Horny Chicken Barbeque sandwich please?”
“Honey,” she corrected.
“Well, hi sugar,” he said whimsically as he leaned in with a smirk on his face, looking for a name badge, but there wasn’t any. She looked older than he would have thought for a counter girl—more his age—and that pleased him. And even in jeans and a light sweater top, she looked quite sophisticated and strikingly beautiful.
“No, I meant, it’s a Honey Chicken sandwich. Is that all for you?” She smiled, wondering why this older guy was acting like a big kid.
“No, I’d also like you to get something for yourself and meet me outside.” Kidd slapped a twenty on the counter and slowly walked backwards towards the door.
“What?” Her eyes twinkled. Now that was more like it, she thought. This is a man talking. She was used to men coming on to her, and why not, she was thirty-nine, available, and attractive. Well she had a few wrinkles around the edges, but her short sassy brown hair still graced her face, and her wide youthful smile made her look in her late twenties still.
“It’s too nice a day to be working; we’re going to the beach and you’re invited. You like the beach? “ Kidd paused.
“What? Are you kidding? Who’s we?” She did like the beach, and she loved the idea of going—but with a complete stranger? She was there at the KFC just checking up on a few things anyway--she owned the franchise, and stopped in occasionally to mosey around. And she was well off financially; she lived a comfortable life, created each day as it came, so yeah, she could do whatever she wanted to do.
“No, I’m not 'kidding', but your close, my name’s Kidd. And the ‘we’ is you and me. Come on, it’ll be fun. I’ll be waiting right out there," Kidd gestured to a point just outside the door.


One can’t do too much talking on a bike traveling 80-90 miles per hour on the freeway. But Adrian Miles felt safe clinging to Kidd on his bike. She felt a freedom she had never felt before--a freedom born from the sound of a V-twin, and the feel of the rushing wind blowing against her face. And the thunderous vibrations emanating from her seat overwhelmed her with yet another freedom that liberated her loins and tightened her clutch around Kidd. And without her permission, the vibrations and the warmth of Kidd’s closeness shattered her into a billion pieces as involuntary moans escaped her, and the raging wind penetrated her, ravished her, and became one with her and the Kidd. After three more cycles of inner explosions she became dehydrated and almost fainted.

Before Adrian could even start to think about what possessed her into going with Kidd, she found herself wrapped in a rented wet suit, paddling a double kayak in the Monterey Bay, with Kidd in back this time. She had never seen the ocean from a perspective from being on the ocean before. A seagull hovered just feet away from her head, she could almost touch it. A pelican dove into the water to her right and she could see it dive at least four feet under the water to nab a small fish. They coasted past a 30 foot long anchored metal boat, abandoned except for the six large seals basking in the sun on the deck, barking like dogs. How did they get up there? She felt another rush of freedom. And she felt an unfamiliar happiness.

Kidd powered the kayak towards a small beach landing where other kayakers were sprinkled about. A wall of rock separated the beach from small gift shops, restaurants and the main stripe, busy with tourists, bicyclists, and locals out for a good time. They beached their boat and walked up the stone steps with food on their minds--one can get pretty hungry after a few hours of kayaking. When they strolled into a small café that advertised clam chowder in a bread bowl, Adrian felt like she was in a James Bond movie. All eyes where on her and Kidd in their wet suits. She imagined that everyone was wondering who they were, and if they were thinking if she and Kidd were marine biologists or maybe secret agents on a mission.

The chowder was clammy but good, and they sat and talked about the animals and sights they’ve seen so far, and how they both smelled like salt. And Adrian could not stop looking at the Kidd. His strong arms complimented his broad shoulders and stern dimpled chin. He was hard and muscular, yet his dark hair and knowing look gave him a dignified appearance. Other than knowing that Kidd was good looking and can eat, she still didn’t know anything about him. They had only taken time for a brief exchange of names at the KFC. And Kidd had polished down his horny chicken sandwich in less than two minutes, tossed her his black leather jacket and skull cap helmet from his saddle bags, and off to the beach they went. Kidd did not even question how she could leave work on such short notice, or what such a sophisticated lady as herself was doing behind a counter at KFC in the first place.

“So what’s next Kiddo? “ Adrian finally asked, her mouth and eyes behaving more seductively than she realized. But she liked him, liked his mysteriousness, and had no intention to spoil the fun by analyzing anything at the moment. She just wanted to play and live, and feel her desire for this man grow. And get on that bike again!
“Do you like Cats?” Kidd prompted, struggling to control his own primeval desire to take Adrian in his arms right there on the table.
“I prefer dogs.”
“No, I mean the Broadway Show ‘Cats’, it’s playing tomorrow night in San Francisco. I happen to have two tickets, and you’re invited...”

…To be continued.

Monday Monday!

I just got harassed by the Federal Blog Controller Agency (FBCA) for not making my Monday Post. They came to my house at 12:01 am Tuesday and dragged me to court. I tried to defend myself but Al Gore, the head of the FBCA, caught me dead to rights and fined me $5000. Here are the court proceedings:

Gore: Records show you were late on your Monday Post.
Vince: I posted it on time; it was a computer glitch, power surge or something.
Gore: That’s impossible, our computer technology is state-of-the-art and it does not lie. I want answers.
Vince: You want answers?
Gore: I think I'm entitled to them.
Vince: You want answers?
Gore: I want the truth!
Vince: You can't handle the truth! Son, we live in a world that has walls. And those walls have to be manned by men who make decisions. Who's gonna do it? You? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for the Blogger yet you curse a Late Post. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: that a certain decision, while tragic, probably enhances lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, enhances lives...You don't want the truth. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall. You need me on that wall. We use words like blog honor, blog code, blog loyalty...we use these words as the backbone to a life spent achieving something. You use 'em as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very Blog I provide, then questions the manner in which I provide it! I'd rather you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you click on a mouse and man a Blog. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you're entitled to!
Gore: Were you late on your Monday Post?
Vince: (quietly) I did the job God sent me to do.
Gore: WERE YOU LATE ON YOUR MONDAY POST?
Vince: YOU’RE GODDAMN RIGHT I WAS!!

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(spoof on a movie dialog between Jack Nicholson and Tom Cruz.) 

HEY!

A professor working under a Hartford research grant was mauled to death by this Gorilla (Note:  The gorilla image is a drawing of a painting of a photo of another drawing used to illustrate an image from the mind of a gorilla observer.) while he was trying to determine its intelligence. The only evidence of what happened is on this partial tape recording:

Prof: Okay, what letter comes after Q?
Gorilla: Arrrr!
Prof: Okay, good. Now talk like a Pirate.
Gorilla: Arrrrr!
Prof: Great, now what do you say when Jennifer Lopez walks into the room?
Gorilla: Ooo Ooo.
Prof: Terrific, good job.
Gorilla: Hey!
Prof: Excuse me? What did you say? Did you say Hey? Say it again!
Gorilla: (silence)
Prof: Common, say it again for the tape, say HEY!
Gorilla: (silence)
Prof: SAY HEY!
Gorilla: (silence)
Prof: COME ON, SAY IT AGAIN YOU DAMN DIRTY APE!
Gorilla: ARRRRRRRRG !! [SLAM! BAM! click*]

Carl

“Hi, my name is Carl. I’m looking for a girl who is smart, loves piercings, open minded and likes kids. She has to like Hip-Hop, ball-room dancing, ice hockey and most cats. No smokers please. I don’t have many skills, but I have a car, some money, and can throw a cannon ball over 50 yards. If you think you’re the girl for me, and want to hook up, please give me a holler…Peace out.”

(Note: My actual photo is expected to be released upon approval of the World Photo Authority sometime in the year 3048, thanks.) 

Editorial: Heaven and Hell

I’m not totally sure where I want to go when I die, so I asked God and Satan to arrange a short tour of their facilities so I can better determine my final resting place.I found Heaven to be a bit Conservative for some reason; mostly Christians were there, but a few exceptions.

To my right, I saw a man with a beard, banging his 72 Virgins. And I thought, what a nasty awful place this is, it must be Hell for those poor virgins.

To my left, I saw a bloody naked long haired guy pinned up on sticks and wearing a thorn hat. And I thought how horrible a place this is; it must be Hell for that poor tortured man.

And the guy straight ahead was rocking back and forth in a corner with a fearful look in his eyes. So I asked him, “So how do you like it here in heaven.” He answered, “This place is terrible. All I hear everyday is God’s voice in my head. And they’re all around me, these white fairy-like things flying around with wings, and it’s driving me bananas. They do have cake here, and plenty of milk, but I am lactose intolerant, so it’s like a living Hell for me here.”

So I was not too impressed with Heaven, and looked forward to see if Hell was any better.

When I got to Hell, I found it to be quite a Liberal place—it seemed everyone was allowed in there, no segregation going on or anything.

To my right, I saw a replica of the White House, complete with 666 interns and maids, and even a few Laura Bush and Hillary Clinton look-alikes. There was a line of guys standing outside waiting for their turn to ‘play’ president. And I thought, what a hellish, disgusting activity, but then again, I always wanted to be president, maybe it will be a nice experience.

To my left, I saw Jeffrey Dahmer rotating an impaled guy on a stick and roasting him over an open fire. And I thought, how awful. And Jeffrey did not have a mouth, so it must have been Hell for him. But some other open-minded guests gave a taste and all agreed it tasted like chicken.

The guy straight ahead was Jack the Ripper. He was playing golf all by himself. So I asked him, “So how do you like it here in Hell.” Jack said, “It’s hellish for me because I’m not allowed to kill anyone. And Global Warming is a real problem. But it’s not all that bad really, and I have some time to practice my game before OJ Simpson arrives.”

So after my tour I was a bit disappointed in both Heaven and Hell. The ‘White House” thing in Hell was interesting, but I would have to avoid the likes of Dahmer and the Ripper. And it’s a bit too hot there. But Satan did try to bribe me by offering Janis Joplin as a room-mate—very cool. Heaven seemed more bearable, I mean if I can convince the bearded guy to share his virgins and avoid the thorns and cake, (I'm lactose intolerant too) then maybe it won’t be all that bad. But I’ll probably end up in Hell unless I stop these bad thoughts about the virgins. Darn. Maybe I can make up for it by including God when I recite the Pledge of Allegiance, even if our law ends up banning it. After-all, God did promise to introduce me to Kristen Scott Thomas someday if I was a good boy. Yay!

So I’ll shoot for Heaven. I mean I’ll endeavor for Heaven. And I'll just enjoy life and live here as long as I can. After-all, it’s not all that bad here; and it seems I can experience the best of both Heaven and Hell right here anyway!

John Roberts Grilled

Roberts, pictured here (Note: Since I believe that 'photos' are nothing more than interpretations of vibrational energy that penetrates all space, then you ought to already have the image in your mind, so imagine it.)  as Senator Joe Biden (D-DE) grills him on his views of abortion at his confirmation hearing, and sticks him with this tough question, “Do you believe the opposite of being alive, is being dead?”

--What kind of ridiculous question is this anyway? Roberts actually paused to think before answering, “Yes, I do.”

Here is the complete dialog:

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Biden: Do you believe the opposite of being alive, is being dead?
Roberts: Yes, I do.Biden: So you’re saying, if you are not alive, then you are dead?
Roberts: Not necessarily.Biden: Then if you are not alive, and not dead, then what else can you be?
Roberts: You can be just not born yet; you can’t die until you have been born and alive first.
Biden: So the unborn is neither alive nor dead?
Roberts: Not necessarily.Biden: So you can be alive, dead, or unborn, yet if you are unborn you can be either dead or alive?
Roberts: Yes.Biden: So are you alive if you are born?
Roberts: Not necessarily.Biden: So you can be either alive, or dead, or unborn, or born, yet if you are born you are not necessarily alive?
Roberts: Yes.Biden: So you can be born dead?
Roberts: Yes.Biden: But you said you can’t die unless you were alive first, so it would follow that if you are born dead, then you must have been alive while unborn, is that correct?
Roberts: Yes.Biden: So it follows that you are either born and dead, or born and alive, or unborn and alive, or unborn and dead?
Roberts: Not necessarily.Biden: Then what else can you be?
Roberts: You can be unborn, and neither alive nor dead; that is you may not only be unborn but you may also be un-conceived.Biden: So you are either born conceived and dead, or born conceived and alive, or unborn conceived and alive, or unborn conceived and dead, or unborn, and un-conceived, un-alive, and un-dead?
Roberts: Not necessarily.Biden: Then what else can you be?
Roberts: You can be born and conceived, and un-alive, and un-dead.
Biden: In other words, you are saying one can be either born conceived and dead, or born conceived and alive or unborn conceived and alive or unborn conceived and dead, or unborn, and un-conceived, un-alive, and un-dead or born, conceived, yet neither dead nor alive?
Roberts: Yes.Biden: I can understand how you can be unborn, and un-conceived, therefore un-dead and un-alive, but how can you be born, yet neither dead nor alive?
Roberts: Well, do you believe everything has an opposite?Biden: Yes.
Roberts: Then it follows that the opposite of ‘dead or alive’, is ‘neither dead nor alive’, so ‘neither dead nor alive’ is something you believe in by your own submission that everything has an opposite.Biden: But what does this mean?
Roberts: This basically means that you believe in the undead, the walking dead, Voodoo shamanism, and Zombie movies.Biden: But this is ridiculous.
Roberts: Exactly!!!

IDIOT!

A buddy of mine asked if I would ‘do’ a dog.

I said nope.

Then he asked if I would 'do' a dog if someone gave me a million bucks.

I said nope, because I would need the dogs consent, and I could not really be sure if the dog was consenting or not.

Then my buddy said everyone has a price, and he asked if I would 'do' a dog for a billion bucks if nobody else knew about it, and if it was a horny consenting dog.

So I said, "Okay, for a billion bucks, I would 'do' a dog, but it would have to be a nice looking poodle, clean and well groomed." (I was thinking of a poodle like this one in the photo.)



My buddy said no, and that I would have to 'do' an unattractive poodle (Maybe like this dog in the image to the right.) So I said, for a billion bucks, okay, I’d do it…Then my buddy called me a dirty whore for being willing to 'do' a dog…I told him, "So what, I’m a whore—F*** Y**.  Give me a billion dollars."






Then my buddy asked if I would 'do' a guy for 10 billion bucks. I said, "for 10 billion bucks, yeah I would, but he’d have to look like Anne Heche."


My buddy said no, and described a guy he would have to look like—Like the guy in this photo (to the left)…

He said I would have to do everything the guy asked me to do for an entire week including ‘eating salad’, and that 'golden shower' thing.

I said, “Okay, for 10 billion bucks, I could hire a surgeon to cut the memory out of my head afterwards, haha.”

He said, no, the rule is that I would have to live with the memory.

So I said, “Hell yeah I’d do it for 10 billion bucks.”

He said, “I don’t believe you.”

I said, “I’m telling you I would do it.”

He said, “I don’t f***ing believe you.”

I said, “I’m f***ing telling you I would do it.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“I’m telling you I would.”

“Liar.”

I said, “Put your money where your mouth is, gimme 10 billion bucks.”

He then tried to change the rules by adding all kinds of other disgusting stuff, and I told him he could not change the rules like that, and a big argument ensued. It ended when he stood up and yelled, “I can’t believe you’d let that f_t f**k corn-hole you like his little bitch!” Then he walked out.

I stood up to follow him and noticed everyone in the Starbucks was staring at us. I apologized to the obese lady by the door on my way out. In the parking lot I had to explain to my IDIOT buddy that I could not EVER show my face in that coffee shop again!  He was clueless. We had to find another spot for our coffee breaks after that…(Note: The photos in this post are actually photos of photos of photos taken from raw text designed to divert the reader's mind from any thought that what they are seeing is actually outside of their minds in the first place.)

Essay: Food, Sex and Guns

I was thinking about how appetizing this turkey looked to me. But in reality it’s just a burnt headless dead carcass, which I would proceed to rip the dead flesh apart with my teeth, suck it down into a rancid acid pit, squish it through a dark pounding gastric torture tunnel, and then squirt out the remains into a nasty dirty toilet bowl. It’s a very violent and filthy sequence of events. So my mind fools itself into believing that eating is a rather pleasant activity. But in reality, it is a somewhat horrifying procedure.

Then I thought about it. What else is my mind fooling itself about? Let’s take Ashley Judd as an example. I think she is attractive. But in reality, she is not that much different from a common wart toad. I mean she may be a little different, with a tuff of greasy hair on her head, and some growths on her chest, but basically she has the same slimy internal organs and functionality as a slimy frog. So in reality, she is somewhat a disgusting creature not so much unlike a giant maggot with a nob head and some lanky limbs.

So my mind may be fooling itself in order to survive. Because for my body to survive and procreate, my mind needs to think it enjoys food and sex. So that leads me to the subject of GUNS. I think guns represent beauty and perfection. To me it’s the perfect tool that catch me food and protect me from harm as I compete for sex. Yup, I tend to believe all killing has its roots in competition for food and sex (love, procreation.) So I like the feel and weight of cold steal in my hand; the explosive power it wields, the thunderous sounds it makes, and the smell of gun powder. But if you think about it, a gun is nothing more than a nasty killing tool.

This brings me to this roasted pig. I don’t find it appetizing, because it reminds me too much of a human with terrible steal shafts poking through it. But obviously others do find it appetizing, and also others do not like guns. So why do their minds fool them in the opposite manner than my mind fools me? Maybe it’s because each mind works from the different experiences of the individual. To the pig eater, the steal shafts may just represent the proper tools needed for pig roasting. To the anti-gunner, guns may represent an evil threat to their lives and loved ones.

So what does all this mean? It means this essay will mean nothing to some readers—and everything to other readers.  (Editor's note:  The artwork in this post is designed to enhance the reader's overall experience as permitted under World sanctions.  In no way were they meant to duplicate any other of the billions of hand drawn turkeys and pigs that otherwise may have been created in the past, present, or future.) 

Budapest: New rules for women

BUDAPEST (AFP) - A district mayor in Budapest Hungary proposed a new code of ‘appearance’ for City Hall employees under which only women with "pretty legs" can wear short skirts. The European Union hopes to adopt this policy for their New World Order.

Also under the new law, the girl on the right would be suspended from work until she can make herself more attractive.







This girl would be put on probation until she can gain 4 pounds, and lose the boyfriend.

And this girl would be sacked without severance and immediately placed into quarantine.

(Note:  Due to the banning of depicting anything that looks real at this time, please use these drawings as a guideline for your personal imagery.) 

Sad Sac

The checker at the Walgreen’s was very large, and it had a man’s hair cut, hairy arms, deep voice and it’s name was Terry. I had no idea what sex it was. I couldn’t tell if it had breasts or not. One day I had bought a sandwich and a box of Tampons for my girlfriend. Terry actually was looking at me like it was not sure what sex I was??? So I had to clarify, “This is not for me, I’m a dude man. I mean I’m not a damn Butch!”-- Big mistake!

I was on a first date with a girl fresh from China. We stopped at a traffic signal behind a Mercedes diesel. It smelled really bad, like sulfur and rotten eggs. The girl thought I farted because she opened her window and the sun roof and looked at me with a disgusted look. I told her the smell was coming from outside, from that diesel car, and that she was making the smell worse by opening the window.. But she had never experienced a diesel smell before and she didn't believe me. She was totally turned off and started waiving her hands, and I was frustrated. I mean the smell was really bad and I could not believe she actually thought a smell like that could come from a human. Then I made a bad choice for a place to eat. I took her to my favorite burrito place and bought us each a burrito. Then I realized she was thinking I always eat beans. When I stood up from the picnic table I had dirt on the butt of my white pants. She joked and said I have fart on my pants. “Fun Pi” which I guess is fart in Chinese. The date was basically over, and she didn’t even touch her burrito.

A girl came up to me in the mall to ask me what time it was. Perfect opportunity, I thought, to get some interaction goin’ on. I said that it’s about 10 to 5 and positioned myself for conversation, but she said, “Oh, shit,” And ran off. I looked at my watch again and realized I blew it, because it was only 10 to 4. I bought a digital watch after that.

I was standing in the mall and thought I was stylish. I woman walked by and smiled at me, but her little kid pointed and yelled, “Hey, mom, look at the skinny man, is that Gilligan?” She gave me a bigger smile and then scolded the kid for pointing. I looked at my reflection in the display window and realized my new terry cloth hat did not compliment my red shirt and white pants.

At the mall, I waived at a pretty girl that I thought I knew. And she smiled and waived back. But then we both realized we did not know each other; boy was that awkward.

I was at a museum in Florida. They had actual train engines in one room and also a display of miniature trains and tunnels. I noticed a beautiful blond was following me around, so I tried to act cool. The room was very quiet and we were all alone. At one display of a long tunnel, she stood at one end and I was at the other. She was about 15 feet away. I went to stick my head into the tunnel to see what was in there and my face slammed into a clear glass barrier. My glasses went flying, and its bent frame crashed to the floor and the lenses popped out. My camera had banged against it too. The whole room echoed with a big bang. The girl came over to see if I was okay, and then started laughing at my face print on the glass. When her friend showed up they walked away giggling and I heard her say something. But all I could catch was the word ‘Barney’.

In a clothes store at the mall, my girlfriend was standing next to me and I held her hand. But it felt a little funny and when I looked it was a strange man, and I just froze. His wife was standing across from us with a curious look on her face, and then the man noticed his wife. He jumped and jerked his hand away and I had to explain it was a mistake. My girlfriend was just shaking her head.

At a department store in Paris I was standing in front of a mirror looking at myself. Then two slim French girls came up to the mirror, and one of them pulled off her shirt to try on a blouse. But for a moment, she just stood there admiring herself in the mirror, and she was bare breasted. There was a silver chain linked from a belly ring that split into a ‘V’ and attached to two nipple rings. The store was packed with people but no one else seemed to care, and she did not care either. But I was just mesmerized and could not look away, and my jaw dropped. Then my wife threw her shopping bag at my head and my glasses went flying. I had to run to catch up to her so I could explain. The rest of the day I had to shop with my glasses off. I could not see a damn thing.

I was at a disco (it was the 70’s) but was exhausted because I had played sports the whole day. It was after midnight when a fine girl asked me to dance. I looked at her then vomited on her shoes…

The helper at the dentist forgot to put the lead apron on me when he took the X-ray. Then my mouth was open and my dentist had a huge bugger in his nose, but I couldn’t say anything. I looked at his hairy chest and the gold chain that swung in his open shirt. No white coat for this guy. He looked like Tom Jones. When I looked back the bugger was gone!?! I think I actually cried. When I got out of that place my keys were locked in the car and my engine was running.

At a disco the fine girl sitting next to me was moving to the music, so I turned to ask her to dance, but another guy had already asker her. She stood up and turned to the guy but he had already walked away thinking she had rejected him. She was really embarrassed and I felt sorry for her. She just sat back down and I lost the momentum to ask her. But later I saw her looking bored and standing against the wall. So I maneuvered my way next to her ready to make a move when I stepped on her toe by accident. She screamed and everyone turned to look. The guy next to her tried to help her and his hand leaned on the wooden shelf above her. The shelf tilted down and mixed drinks and beer bottles tumbled on her head and crashed to the floor. Her pretty face turned demonic and very scary looking. Next thing some guys are shoving me. Then before I know it two bouncers had me spread eagled and threw me out the door. They swung me as they counted one, two three, then let me fly. But it was all just an accident!?!

At a dance club I asked a girl to dance. She shook her head. I asked the next girl and she just smiled and said, “no.” I was getting worried because I had never been rejected twice in a row before. And I felt that everyone was looking at me. I went down the line like a fool, but thinking I was cool like John Travolta, and finally the 5th girl tells me that I have huge green spinach stuck in my teeth…

I was getting on a float plane in Alaska, dressed like Indiana Jones. Equiped with my adventurous look, I was confident that I was going to impress the two girls who were already inside. But I hit my head on the door frame so hard that I fell on my back and my Skittles spilled all over the dock. When we landed, I got off first and there was a huge bump on my head. I had to walk to the trading post alone because the two girls wanted to stay and talk to the pilot dude. I felt like a complete dork.

I saw a cute girl holding a dog and I asked, “pretty dog, what’s her name?”. She looked at me like I was cruel, then I looked at the dog again. It was a baby holding a stuffed animal!

At the mall I was with a group waiting for the elevator. I had my hands in my pockets and decided to break the silence with conversation. I looked at the elevator door and there was a big green ‘3’ on it. And I said, “Hmm, I wonder what that ‘3’ stands for?” Everyone just looked at me and held back smiles. But one kid could not hold it and burst out laughing. Then he informed me that we were on the 3rd floor.

At the mall I wore my sunglasses inside the store. I thought I could pull a fast one on my wife since she could not see where my eyes were looking. But this one young girl was giving me the eye like you wouldn’t believe, and she was wearing shorts and no bra. My mistake was that my wife could still see the girl’s eyes, and could see the wicked smile on my face. She made a big scene and yelled out, “Why don’t you just go F__k her?” The girl’s mom was shocked. I new I was in trouble and just handed my wife the car keys. I had to walk six miles home that day.

At the gym, I went to take a shower. A gay guy was at the far right corner. I picked the shower at the opposite side on the far left corner. After I shampooed and opened my eyes, the gay guy had moved to the showerhead right next to me, and he had his arms up and turning all around like he was a strip dancer showing off his wares. I turned around and ignored him, and then he left. When I got out, he was using my towel, and rubbing it back and forth on his balls like a see-saw. I stood in front of him naked and said, “hey man, that’s my towel.” He said sorry that he took the wrong towel and started to hand it back to me. I said, “I don’t want that after you used it.” Then he offered his towel. I looked at it and it was a dirty white and had pubic hairs stuck in it. I said, “That’s dirty man. “And I ended up going back to the office feeling abused, and looking like a soggy idiot.

A very sophisticated and proper catholic lady visited our office from the east coast. I was elected to entertain her that night. I took her to San Francisco and made a wrong turn smack dab into a Gay Parade. We were stuck and the naughty boys were walking all around us. She gasped when a man wearing only chaps walked by and revealed his bare butt, and then almost fainted when men dressed in lingerie came by kissing and holding each other in places beyond imagination. After I parked we went to a quaint café. About 12 guys and a girl came in to pose for a picture right across from us. As we watched, they all quickly dropped there pants and drawers right before the girl snapped the picture. The lady was disgusted at the public exposure of all those well hung beef cakes. Then on the way to the show, we passed a pay-potty on the street just as three nasty looking men came out of it! The lady was absolutely appalled. Finally at the show, I had no idea it was an adult farce in very bad taste. She walked out and I followed. I lost the friggen account.

I was at a sales seminar standing in front of a large group of financial planners and multi-million dollar mutual fund managers on wall-street. I decide to start by livening up the room with a joke. So I said, “Okay, I’m going to divide you into teams. Everyone on the left side will be shirts, and everyone on my right will be skins.” Not a single laugh or even smile. They all just looked at me like I was a fool. The only guy that laughed was in the back row—the president of another software firm, our biggest competition.

Things I heard at Fast Food Joints:

At Jack-In-The-Box: “Can I have a Whopper with cheese.”

At Jack-In-The-Box: “Can I have a chicken faGEEta.” --Cashier corrects the customer, “faHEEta.” Customer, “no, not fa hee, ta go…”

At Burger King: “I’ll take a Jumbo-Jack.”

At Jack-In-The-Box: “Do you know why Mr. Jack was in jail?” Cashier, “Oh, I don’t know, I can ask the manager…”

At McDonald’s: “Can I have a Big Breakfast, eggs over medium.”

At McDonald’s: “Can I have a McRibb. Oh, you don’t have that here, darn. Ok, I’ll just take fries, do you have the classic fries, you know the ones that taste good? Oh you don’t have those anymore, shucks…And you don’t serve breakfast now right? Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’ll just take a Coke. Oh, you only have Pepsi… Hmm, okay, can I have an ice cream cone in a cup? Oh, shoot, out of ice cream huh…Okay, well thanks…” And finally walks away.

At Wendy’s: “Can I have a 99 cent chili, a 99 cent Frosty, and a 99 cent burger –Will five dollars be enough?”

At Togo’s sandwich shop: “Can I have the peppers on the side.” Cashier, “Left or right?”

At Carl’s Junior: “What time do you open?” Cashier, “We are open.” Cust: “How early?” Cashier: “It’s not that early, it’s already 10am.”

At McDonald’s: “Can you please change your baby in the bathroom; people have to eat on that table you know…”

At McDonald’s: “I just tripped on one of your five ‘Caution: Wet floor’ signs, and the floor is not even wet…”

At Wendy’s: “Do you have any finger foods?”

At Taco Bell: “Can I have a large pepperoni pizza to go.”

At Taco Bell: “What time do you close?” Cashier, “we don’t, we’re open 24 hours now.” Cust, “Even better dude, what time do you open?”

At McDonalds: “Can I have a Big Mac.” No answer. “Do you speak English?” Cashier, “Lo siento, no hablo Ingles.”

At Dominos Pizza: “Can I have a large combo.” Cashier, “We’re not taking anymore orders today.” Cust, “why?” Cashier, “because we just fired the cook, he was um, picking his nose over the pizzas.”

At Taco Bell: “Look at that, tell me what that is?” Manager looks at the pubic hair and gives him another taco. Me and the six people behind him are disgusted, but place our orders anyway…

At Dandy Dogs: “I want a refund.” Owner, “no refund, how do I know the bug did not fall from your head?”

At Dandy Dogs: “I wanna speak to the manager. You are the manager? Then I want to speak to the owner. You are the owner? I want to speak to your boss. No boss? You gotta have a boss, get me the franchise director on the phone now?” I tap the guy on the shoulder, tell him I’m a lawyer and will personally make sure the BBC complaint committee gets word of this outrage...He thanks me and walks away. The owner gives me a free coke.

At McDonalds: “To go or for stay?” --Is this proper English? They all seem to talk like this on the East Coast.

Togo’s Sandwich Shop: “Do you know you are making my sandwich with a bloody, soggy, band-aid on your thumb?” Sandwich maker: “I know, I’m sorry I can’t find my gloves.” Co-worker: “I saw a pair on the bathroom floor.” Sandwich maker: “Hey, can you get it for me?...”

KFC: "Do you have a whole chicken, original recipe?”

China wants the U.S. out of Asia

China and Russia join forces and announce solidarity against the U.S.--Russia and China will hold their first ever joint military exercises this week as the once wary neighbors demonstrate their willingness to cooperate in the face of the U.S. military presence in Central Asia.



Bush immediately responds by re-deploying 16 commandos from Iraq to Okinawa in a pre-empted show of force. “The United States will not be intimidated. We have allies too. We still have Britain, and Italy, and um, Tonga.”



Howard Dean in an unofficial show of respect for China makes an emotional appeal for China to allow the U.S. time to disarm its citizens. “Not all Americans want to obstruct your goal for Asian Domination in the Pacific. As a token of the real American’s submissive stance, I honor the Chinese Prime Minister with this helpless cat.” —Ironically, the Chinese Prime Minister was humiliated when the cat arrived dead from massive spinal injuries and a ruptured eardrum.

(Note:  Due to the BAN on visual aids on this topic, all illustrations depicted here are invisible.  Please use your imagination.)

Modern Art?

I saw this painting in the Museum of Modern Art in New York City. I think the name of it was “Who's afraid of red, yellow and blue.” (Note:  Photos were forbidden in the museum, but this image came totally from the artists own atomic mind make up from his own brain.)

• It was in a huge guarded room all by itself.
• There were people pondering it in deep thought? WTF?
• I thought I was on Candid Camera, except they did not allow any cameras in there.
• There was a girl on a bench in front of the painting, sketching it?
• It was a pretty large painting, but other than that, there was no frame or any other indication of its value.
• A Japanese tour group spent 10 minutes discussing that thing.

I just watched the people in utter amazement.
So can anybody tell me what business that painting has in a Museum? I have a can of ‘Chef BOYARDEE’ sitting on my desk that has more appeal than that thing. Maybe I’m just not cultured enough to understand the attraction?

UFO Scare in Southern California

UFO (top left) frightens onlookers in Southern California where Howard Dean appeared Tuesday to speak at the Green Peace "Save the Sea Otter" ralley.

But a closer look reveals it was not a UFO at all, but rather Howard Dean’s new hair piece.







Witnesses say during Dean’s hysterical speech, his hand knocked off the toupee, launching it high into the air and out to sea.



Dean was later reunited with his toupee after a Green Peace cutter retrieved it--but the mood was dampened when they failed to resuscitate the baby sea otter that had become entangled with the fake hair.

(Please note that these photos were done by hand, to add artistic value towards actual events.)

Some Worldly Notations:

• In Germany, you can buy a beer, play foosball, and watch the world cup on 8 TV screens, all at McDonalds.
• In France, the waiter will wait until you have eaten eight 4X4 inch slices of cheese before informing you that it’s actually butter.
• The girls in France like showing you their breasts.
• The Belgium waffles in the U.S. taste better then the ones in Belgium.
• In Switzerland, they tell you the ‘Titleist’ golf ball is actually pronounced “Tit-less”
• Italians drive small cars.
• In London, a lot of taxi cabs are Mercedes Benz’s, because Toyota’s are too expensive there.
• London girls are loose.
• The guys in London are crazy. They paint themselves blue, wear tall hats and call themselves Hooligans.
• Folks in Ireland have beer running in the tap, and always smile when they slug you in the face.
• The bathroom on a train in Russia is a box car with a hole in the floor.
• If you’re a girl in Holland, you can smash into a guy’s car and get off with a spanking.
• In Amsterdam, you can piss in the middle of the street, do drugs in a local bar, then shop for prostitutes in store front windows--All legally.
• In China, they sell you a 4X4 inch piece of toilet paper for one third of one penny at the public bathroom. You can only buy one piece each. The lady next to me bargained for 5 minutes to get the price down to one sixth of one penny. Of course, the bathroom is just a room with a hole in the ground.
• Some cab drivers in Beijing are members of the Chinese Mafia. They look just like the Sicilian Mafia complete with trench coats. I gave a driver $50 bucks to get to the Hotel pronto, so he crashed through the guard gate at 50 miles/hour then proceeded on the freeway at 100+ miles/hour. At night the road was filled with coal trucks and log trucks with no tail lights. We did not see the trucks until we were right on them and had to swerve to avoid them. I found out later that the 50 bucks was almost 3 months wages for the driver, so he was really, really happy.
• The freeway from the airport to Beijing was new. In the past 3 months since it opened, 65 farmers were killed on it, trying to cross to the other side. They put up a fence, but still the farmers were getting run over. Worse than a deer in headlights man.
• Very poor children in China look identical to the very poor children in Mexico.
• In Mexico, if something falls on your head in the store, you can’t sue anyone—they just consider it a hazard of life—so you have to watch your own ass.
• The food in Mexico is outstanding, unless they cook it in local water.
• You can get noodles at the McDonalds in Hong Kong.
  There are no obese people in china. (maybe one in a couple hundred million, but I did not see them)
• I saw ONE obese person in Hong Kong. And only THREE obese people in Taiwan at the post office.
• Back in the U.S., there were 14 obese people at the post office out of 16 people in line. And TWO big ones behind the counter. (so odds are I am offending a reader right now--But I'm obese too, so I can say big and fat.)
• Pretty girls spit thick spit on the streets of Hong Kong.
• In Vietnam, there is usually a large bug found swimming in your soup. But everyone just flicks the bug out and continues eating.
• The penalty for smuggling drugs in Taiwan is DEATH, and if you commit a crime with a knife or gun, then you will be shot in the head until dead.
• Guards carry machine guns at the Hong Kong airport.
• I bought $200 worth of fireworks in a Japanese department store. Then celebrated the Fourth of July with 50 other neighbors in Japan for five fun filled hours. Back in the U.S., there are ZERO neighbors celebrating the Fourth of July in front of their house. It has been illegal to do fireworks in San Jose California for the past 30 some odd years.
• The pigeons have slanted eyes in China.
• A family of five can commute comfortably in Taiwan on a two wheeled scooter.
• In Taiwan, you can pull up to a red light, but before it turns green, 50 to 100 scooters will have cut in front of you. In Beijing, same thing except they are bicycles.
• In Beijing, everyone owns a store, and sells the same cheap junk.
• After an hour spent outside in Beijing, you have to dig the smog out of your nose with a small spoon. (if you don’t wear a mask)
• In Japan, you get a bowl of 30 small fish to eat. And they are still swimming.
• In Japan, a cup of joe at one place cost me $29 American dollars.
• And a dinner for 3 cost over $2000.
• A fancy restaurant in Taiwan cost me $4000+ American. But I saw some cute Taiwanese movie stars and singers there; A couple of them were my wife's friends from high school.
• There are karaoke machines at the KFC in Taiwan.
• You can still get dog meat in Japan, Taiwan, Korea, Vietnam and China. In china, they had dogs hanging in the little street kiosks.
• I had a chicken butt on a stick in Japan.
• In China, they served a whole pig. And the anus was served to me in a little bird cage looking thing as the most prized and tender piece.
• In the morning in Taiwan, the restaurants smell like urine. Because a prized breakfast to some old timer’s is cooked in horse piss. You can get that in the U.S. too if you go to the right place.
• I had duck brain, duck tongue, and duck eyes in China, cow brain soup in Taiwan, and Monkey brain pie in Bangkok.
• Southern women are tastier than hot grits on a cold winter morning.
• Texas woman can make a man give up steak.
• Some golf courses in Japan cost 3 million dollars for an annual membership.
• Man’s worst enemy in the Fiji Islands is the mosquito that carries Dingus fever.
• The Caribbean is more beautiful than Hawaii in some places, but you have to carry guns on your boat because of the pirates.
• There are idiots and perverts anywhere you go.
• A man was found in Alaska eaten alive by mosquitoes.
• The mosquitoes in Taiwan are so small that they can fly through the mosquito net. In Texas, their so big that they tear holes in the net to get at you.
• I hate mosquitoes.
• I saw a fish with fur in Montana.
• They hunt giant grasshoppers with guns in Oklahoma.
• The blind American Indian panhandler in Arizona is not really blind.
• The Prostitutes in Michigan call you “sugar” and “Honey”
• The Prostitutes in Japan put the American prostitute to shame. Some have all their teeth pulled to provide maximum service. You only get that kind of service in the U.S if the teeth fall out from disease.
• You’re a hippie in Tennessee unless the length of your hair can be measured with a thumb tack.
• A delicious recipe somewhere in the world becomes extinct every 5 seconds.
• The mansions in Rhode Island are like heaven on earth.
• They will line up 10 deep behind you at a urinal in India, despite the fact there are three empty stalls available.
• In Africa, it is miserable and you are sick the whole time, and mosquitoes provide your only shade and cling to you 24/7.
• People in Georgia spend their whole life savings buying the Cherry Cobbler that the old timers sell on the road sides.
• There are bikers all over the world. You seldom see a smile on their lips, but their eyes are always smiling.
• Canadians are just like Americans, except they are different.
• They eat a lot of fish in Greece, Portugal and Spain.
• There are lots of beautiful people in the world, who have never seen a napkin, or a toilet bowl.
• There are Chinese people in Peru and Ecuador. But they look South American, and they speak Spanish.
• New Zealand is beautiful but far away. And there are Chinese people their too, with Kangaroo pets.
• Australia is fun, but you can’t shoot the Kangaroos. You can’t shoot anything over there. Kind of like Great Britain and Canada.
• I got to visit all 52 states. I like California the best, and worst.
• I got to visit a lot of countries, except for the Middle Eastern ones. I heard that in some places they wash the dirt from their driveway with gasoline, because it’s cheaper than water over there.
• The U.S.A. is the best place to live on earth. Only here can I have authentic Burmese Mohinga one day, and crawdad gumbo the next.

PETA Exposes Lobster Scandal

This picture released by PETA calling for the boycott of sea-food giant BL over alleged mistreatment of giant lobsters--











“The captive crustaceans are routinely tortured and humiliated--forced to publicly mate with VW Beetles and in one case a ’67 Corvette Stingray.”

Hillary Rodham Clinton expresses her utter disgust with the debacle, and urges the crustaceans be "treated with total respect up until the moment they are boiled and served on the dinner plate..."

(Note: Artists renditions may not reflect actual likeness; photos, if allowed, probably would render closer likeness as translated by our minds from electromagnetic wave frequencies.)

Tech Support Follies

It’s the year 1992, I’m at work in a tech support job, the phone rings, and I have to answer it:

Me: Tech support, this is Vince Parker.
Cust: Who dis?
Me: This is Vince Parker.
Cust: Trench?
Me: Uh, Vince.
Cust: Hi Trench, I need some help installing this software.
Me: Uh, do you have the latest version?
Cust: How I tell dat?
Me: Which size disk you have, 3 1/2 or 5 1/4? (The latest version was on a three and a half inch disk versus the older five and quarter inch.)
Cust: I don't know, how I tell what size dicks I have? Oops! Ha ha, I mean dicks. Oops, oh my lord. Ha ha. Di..Diss..cks. I can’t say dat word, ha ha…
Me: No problem, it’s a hard one.
Cust: (silence) Ha ha, oooh, I’m sorry brotha you cracken me up…Okay, how I tell what dissk I got? (Huh, I think she thinks I’m black.)
Me: Do you have the disk in front of you?
Cust: Yeah nigga got it right hea in front a ma face, hehe (Yup, she thinks I’m black, I think it’s my name Parker and the fact I tend to talk in the same manner/accent as my customers)
Me: Well, is the disk small blue and hard, or Big Black and Floppy?
Cust: (silence) Heeeeeeeee, heeee, akk*@choke$%, heee heee ha ha haaaaaa he he @choke$% he he...Okay...It's...It's...hehe...the Big... Black one he heeee.
Me: Okay, okay, so you got a hold of it?
Cust: Heeee he..Yeaha…He he.
Me: Okay good, now make sure the label is up, and stick it in the Big slot, not the small one…etc. etc…

I swear she could not stop laughing, she was a fun person, and I wanted to work in her office... The next two calls in combination one right after the other was very freaky:

Me: Tech support, this is Vincent Parker.
Cust1: Mitten?
Me: No, Vincent. (Who the hell has a name of Mitten?)
Cust1: Gretchen?
Me: No, Vincent, V-I-N-C-E-N-T.
Cust1: Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were a woman…
Me: ...May I have your name please. (standard question because that’s how we verified they were a registered owner)
Cust1: Vince Williams.
Me: I’m sorry, did you say Stinch?
Cust1: Vince, V-I-N-C-E same name as you boy…(he thought I was black too.)

So I finish the call and the phone rings again immediately after I hung up with Vince Williams:

Me: Tech support, this is Vincent Parker. (in a clear, deeper voice)
Cust2: Hi Vincent, I need tech support.
Me: Okay, may I have your name please?
Cust2: Mitten Adchareevulacul. (what?)
Me: Did you say Mitten? M-I-T-T-E-N?
Cust2: Yes…

I could not believe it, but sure enough there was a Mitten Adchareevulacul in the registration book. What are the odds or that happening on the very next call? Let alone at all? What kind of name is “Mitten” anyway?

Through the years on the phone, I’ve been mistaken for Dennis, Vance, Vinch, Stench, Ben, Benson, Trance, Trench, Gretchen, Finch, Pince, Prince, John? Smith, Wince, Pincent, Wincent, etc, etc…And Mitten!

Philosophy Gone Mad

A Liberal, Conservative and a Wiseman meet on a mountain top to discuss the Secret of World Peace…

Liberal: So what’s the secret of world peace?
Wiseman: The secret lies in the philosophical definition of a Liberal. And it is the Liberal who holds the power to unlock it.
Conservative: So what’s the philosophical definition of a Liberal?
Wiseman: A Liberal is a progressive who chooses the losing end of arguments because the Conservative is too ignorant to do so.
Liberal: But that does not make any sense?
Wiseman: Precisely.
Conservative: But I don’t know what you mean?
Wiseman: Exactly.
Liberal: This is a stupid discussion, you’re wasting my time. I’m outta here. (The Liberal backs down and leaves the mountain. )
Conservative: Wait, I think I am getting it…The Conservatives already use the secret, so are on the winning end of arguments, but don’t know why? Right?
Wiseman: Correct.
Conservative: So tell me why?
Wiseman: Wrong question.
Conservative: Well, uh, tell me what the secret is?
Wiseman: Right question, but the Conservative already uses the secret, and merely revealing what is already used, won’t impact the progression of World Peace. As I said, the Liberal holds the power to unlock it.
Conservative: So it’s the Liberal who needs to know the secret?
Wiseman: Precisely.
Conservative: But he’s not here!
Wiseman: Exactly…

Learn the Secret of World Peace here.

Woes on Capital Hill

Disappointed Bush seen here with Bolton after Bolton is spotted holding hands with Howard Dean in bathroom.

Shortly after, Bush recants Bolton’s appointment as US Ambassador to the UN.

Unfazed, and in an unprecedented move, Bush quickly ‘outsources’ Saudi Arabia's Crown Prince Abdullah to the task of US Ambassador to the UN.



(This incident officially never happened, and neither did the banning of all related photos.)

Strange Happenings

Yesterday I met for lunch with a group of prestigious spiritual adventurers. We met at an Afghan restaurant and the chicken curry was delicious. The owner of the restaurant looked like a terrorist, and he stopped by and started expressing the need for peoples of the world to get a long, and that we are all one family. I said, “Since we are family, can you give me the recipe for this chicken curry?” He said of course, but proceeded to ramble on for another five minutes until everyone forgot about my recipe…

We sat for hours discussing metaphysics, movies, cross dimensions, UFO’s, politics, religion, OBE, ESP, psychic phenomenon and any other mystical and spiritual topic you can think of. When the meet ended I headed for my motorcycle so I could get home before it got too dark so I could avoid the drunk drivers. But just when I thought I was out, they pulled me back in. They invited me to dinner. I was hungry again, so I agreed to meet them at Mimi’s Café only a few blocks away.

I had a hamburger and fries. (Very delicious) One psychic numerologist began discussing how the universe was communicating with her through the number “19”. Everywhere she went the number “19* would touch her in some way. I voiced out that this was hog wash, and that every number touches us in some way. I moved to prove her wrong and pulled out my wallet. I said I am going to pick a random dollar bill and if the number “19” is anywhere in the serial number, then she can have the dollar. Well there was a “19” smack dab in the middle of the serial number. They all looked at me with a ‘knowing” look in their eyes. I was disgusted. But I’m glad I did not have a twenty in my wallet. I said I hope this “19” thing is not catching, and they said it was, and that I too would be touched by the “19.” Yeah right, I thought. [Side note: I swear to God as I write this, I just checked my wallet to see if maybe all the dollar bills had a “19” in the serial number. All I had left in my wallet were one dollar bills. I scanned through them and not one had a “19” let alone smack dab in the middle. Then my heart jumped. I counted the dollar bills and there were 18!!! I had given the numerologist my 19th dollar!]

Well, back at Mimi’s, I had had enough and stood up, looked at my cell phone clock and said, “Its 7:48 I ought to be getting home.” The numerologist said, “19.* We all counted mentally and it added up. Shoot. I ended up staying for another 3 or 4 hours. They started discussing the year 2012 when the Mayan calendar ends. I was amazed by this and did some research on the topic. Here is more info on the topic FYI: (http://www.halexandria.org/dward415.htm)
We finally adjourned and I was looking forward to my ride home. I got on the bike and the odometer read “66.6.” Damn, not again, this seems to be happening way too often. Just last week I met a buddy at the “Chicken Coop” for lunch, and when I parked the odometer read 66.6 then too, it’s happened like 9 times this past month alone.--On a bike, there is no “low fuel indicator” so you always have to check the odometer to calculate how much riding time you have left. Then when you get gas, you clear it and it resets back to zero again.--So I just shrugged it off and shook the numbers out of my head so I could enjoy my ride home.
Ha, no drunk drivers, no close calls, no nothing. I’m not superstitious and the “numbers” mean nothing, I thought. I mean that “psychic” girl could not even add up the check, how can she be a numerologist? I took a wrong turn and had to double back. I took some back roads and cruised through the quiet neighborhoods at night. Uh oh…Mimi’s was only ten miles from my house, but I had taken some detours. Shit. I pulled into my garage and looked at my odometer and it read “85.6” What the f@&*? I had ridden EXACTLY “19” miles. And what the  f@&* , 856 adds up to “19” too!!! And f@&* me, it was “19” minutes past the midnight hour.
This is all f@&*ing coincidence right? It clicked in my head the 2012 event will happen 18 f@&*ing years form now, ha! But when I checked some web sites, they said, “The End of the Mayan Calendar is scheduled for December 21, 2012. (give or take a year.)” –Give or take a year? So it could be “19” years right? Okay so maybe something is going on after all. I guess I ought to wager that the world will significantly change in the year 2013, “19” years from now. So maybe the universe does love me, but how do I return my love to the universe? All I do is piss on it everyday when I have to go to the bathroom…