Eat Dog Excrement , you Sphincter

Jennie's post struck a nerve in me, but not in the pro-life crap I see on the no man's land of I-94 . There is one particular billboard that bugs the piss out of me more than any other.

This is the one with the guy holding on to his chin while asking, "What if I swore less?"

What kind of people would spend money on shit like this?? Do you think if I stop saying "SHIT!" the concept of feces will disappear from this planet?

Or perhaps if I don't yell "FUCK!" when I'm pissed off or frustrated, your 8 year old won't know about intercourse until you're good & ready to tell them? (that is, the day before you send him/her off to college)

You're living in a dream world and are trying to hide from reality, where people express themselves. And, are trying to instigate some really sick anti-utopia where nobody exhibits emotion. That creepily reminds me 1984. You might want to try re-reading that.

And another thing. What if, instead of yelling "FUCK!", I yell "COITUS!" or" PENETRATION!"??? Would THAT make you happy? I doubt it. (That is, if you're literate enough to know what coitus means) They're perfect synonyms--there's nothing inherently bad about letters arranged to make sounds. Even when I yell "JESUS CHRIST!", "OH GOD!" and in the rare case "HOLY MOTHER MARY!" you treat that as an explicative too.

What then, is an explicative?

According to Merriam-Webster:
ex·pli·ca·tive
Pronunciation: ek-'spli-k&-tiv, 'ek-spl&-"kAt-
Function: adjective
: serving to explicate; specifically : serving to explain logically what is contained in the subject

Put simply--- it's all about the thought & the concept -- they simply don't want me expressing my emotion. Their message is to stay quiet, bow your head, don't disturb the peace, and be obedient.

FOR UNDER CARNAL KNOWLEDGE YOU!!!!!!! Your citizenship should be revoked for trying to suppress the freedom of speech. Try thinking for just a second, will you?

TSA

TSA employees are fucking morons.

I suppose it's easy to understand how these nimrods are standing where they are -- after 9/11, airports scrambled to get people to provide added security.

And guess who they got? America's finest unskilled, unemployed, poorly educated bottom feeders.

What kind of payscale do you expect to give a guy that's sole purpose is to look at your ID and match it to your boarding pass? What kind of person is attracted by a $9.00/hour job?

The kind of guy that jokes that TSA means "take stuff away", and makes anecdotes about how he can't believe the government actually pays him to tell people that they can't bring liquids or gels onto a plane. "3 ounces or less!"

If you really think so, then perhaps you should be telling your boss that your job is futile and that we shouldn't be wasting tax dollars like this. Perhaps you could make yourself useful and speed up that fucking metal detector line.

And guess what happens in the case that I give these knuckle draggers any lip? (Which they deserve) I get "transferred" to a different caste of security employee -- only this one wears camoflage and inspects your nose with the barrel of a submachine gun.

Anyone want to explain to me why he needs jungle camo in an airport?

This guy has been trained to shoot people. He's probably spend the last 3 years learning to stop thinking and take orders, and think faster than the hypothetical man trying to shoot him first from a leathernecked R. Lee Ermy-type shithead with a loud voice and a propensity to punch you in the gut and call you "Private Lizard Shit." What better job for this guy than walking around civilian crowds with a cannon that can spit out 35 9mm full metal jackets in 10 seconds?

Guess what happens when you give idiots authority? It's a perfect recipe for nincompoopery.

This type of power is perfect to people on the lowest echelon of the socio-economic foodchain. Of course, these people are dripping with insecurity--sometimes it's the fact that they're a recent immigrant, or poor, or ugly, or have a small dick, or obese, or most obviously, stupid.

Basic Bicycle Maintenance...

If you ever need a pedal wrench, don't buy one. I already did, and it was in a fit of rage.

I'll let you borrow mine.

A few weeks ago, I bought some new pedals & cycling shoes(the most expensive shoes I've EVER bought) and was VERY excited to take a ride with them on that very sunny & warm spring day ...

I carefully installed the cleats onto my shoes, and got out my toolset to take the old pedals off my bike. I grabbed my crescent wrench with my muscled arm in the same fashion my father, grandfather, and great-grandfather have been doing for the last 110 years.

I yanked. And yanked on that motherfucker until I rounded off part of the nut on the pedal. "Ah, SHIT!" I yelled as I wiped the beading sweat from my brow. I deduced the thread was seized, so I sprayed some WD40 on the threads and waited anxiously for a half hour as the daylight burned away....

I tried again, this time on a different orientation to the smashed hardened Chrome-Molybdenum steel on my first try. I looked at my hand, which had the reddest & deepest indentation I've ever seen on flesh. No more screwing around. I can get some ice later.

I close my eyes and mustered every last sodium-potassium receptor in my left bicep, deltoid, and lat. I feel the wrench move abruptly.........because I broke the wrench.

Our hero spreads his arms, fists clenched, teeth bared and looks to the sky/ceiling while emitting a primal roar.

I come to consciousness in my car headed toward the nearest bike shop, Erik's in St. Louis Park, to get a pedal wrench and slap down $30. Yes. I paid $30---a satisfying evening at the Herkimer.....for one wrench. This wrench has a slot to grasp the pedal nut, and a long handle. That's it.

I got home and pulled the wrench from it's bag. Which....appeared to have directions on the back.

Huh....the left pedal has a reverse thread.

Oh.


I had a good ride.

A deep analytical dive into an incredibly unsavory minutia of Christmas.

I hate Christmas music. I can't be the only one here. What other music do you hear repeatedly in every public place 1/12th of the year? That is 27 entire months of my life -- 2.25 years in total I've heard this crap regurgitated through every MUZAK system in places of business, malls, elevators, restaurants, waiting rooms, government buildings, public squares, and car stereos of the bimbo soccermom's SUV next to me at the stoplight. I bet there's a crack house somewhere playing a silent night on repeat throughout december; with some junkie getting up from the corner periodically to flip the cassette inbetween fits of seizure.

I completely sympathize with anyone who works at a T-Mobile Kiosk in Southdale mall whose phychiatrist prescibes a daily cocktail of anti-depressants and horse tranquilizers to keep them sedated sufficiently from real life to prevent them from walking to work one day with a sawed-off 10 gauge shotgun. Thank the decade we're living in that I have a computer with a CD player & headphones at work.

Is it possible to be ANYWHERE in public on a December day and NOT hear "Jingle Bell Rock" 87 fucking times a day?

Jingle bell rock is an odd case for christmas music. It's probably the only song to break into mainstream MUZAK in the last 30 years. You hear all the others: O Come all ye faithful, silent night, the first noel, et al. Almost always in various incarnations like jazz or annoying elevator music synthesized instrumentals(remnants from the soulless 80's), sometimes its from "BARRY MANILOW SINGS CHRISTMAS" or some equally relevant pop star of yesteryear who can barely finance their coke & whore habit from their nightly Vegas appearances, but it's always the same select group of songs.

You never hear modern pop/rock/whatever adding to this queue. Why is this? How did some no-name, CLEARLY-not-rock band slide "Jingle Bell Rock" into the Chistmas playlist? It probably has alot to do with aging hipster babyboomers trying to metaphorically unbutton their collar to blend in with the young crowd without stepping outside the circle of their conservative idealogy. It's so sad to see old lamers trying to be hip--weren't you ever cool when you were a kid; even for 5 minutes? Nothing will save you now. Sorry. Playing "jingle bell rock" won't make the office fun, hip, or edgy.

Am I trying to be a Grinch? No. Am I launching an assault upon the infant messiah? No. I would take a much different stand if I was aguing with the frivouality(I know that's not spelled right) of cognizantly continuing the practice a ridiculous tradition.

I just cant stand to hear these songs so many goddamn times. Hey -- Do you know why people hate Hanson's MMM Bop, and that ludicrous Cotton Eye Joe song? Because they were played way more times that their novelty allowed. I could've probably stood to like MMM Bop for a few plays, but you know what?!?!?....the first time I heard it, my girlfriend at the time said, "OhhhhhHHH, not this frikkin' song again" If someone wrote songs about you; would you want them overplayed like a week-old-boyband song on every "TODAY's LATEST HITS" bubblegum radiostation? Of course you wouldn't. I would want it played sparingly enough that entire crowds of people stop in the middle of thoughts and conversation to listen....like when Jimmy Page breaks into the Stairway to Heaven solo. Now THAT song was made for a newborn king.

And I can tell everyone who cares to think now & then is bothered by it. Anyone whose mother drags them to a lutheran church before dinner on Christmas Day for the candlelight service knows my point before I make it. 500 people dressed in argyle sweaters mumbling mindlessly to the droning organ. .....With the exception of 4 people in the entire congregation, up 40 decibels above everyone else singing with perfect enunciation and resonance like they're starring in the opening night of a broadway show.

And it's these people who are responsible for playing this music constantly throughout December. That's the gal who always reacts with 4 times more emotion than required. This veneer of zest, sass, and crystal-meth-like hyperactivity is the archetypical defense mechanism of a plainjane-midwestern-overweight-single-in-her-mid-thirties women with a cat, a porcelain figurine, and a doll on her bed for each of her IQ points. You feel sad for them, so you smile, swear under your breath, and let them play Jingle Bell Rock.

Sonofabitch

I was tidying up today, and I was taking some crap out of my apartment to my storage space. I had the window open, and there was a gust as I let go of the door, making it slam closed very hard.

I get back into my apartment and my framed 89.3 The Current Vinyl LP is on the floor. Shattered glass from the pane is spread about the hardwood floor. I'm barefoot, of course.

But that's not the only damage that's been done. The frame's impact was broken by my brand new ALDO boots. They're nicely scratched right on the toe.

I'm beginning to believe that no matter what you do, it's impossible to keep nice footwear nice.