September 26, 2008 Palin? Pal-OUT!

So I’m just gonna throw this out there: I despise Sarah Palin. I think she’s bat-shit crazy. “But Fred, you’re such a sexist pig, you’re just saying that because she’s a woman!” Nay, I say. I don’t like her because she has about as much experience with politics as George W. has with being successful.

I was watching CNN like I usually do (only because there aren’t any other “more unbiased” news sources on TV), and one of the female news anchors jumped up on her soap box and started preaching about how it’s unfair that the men are protecting Sarah Palin and preventing her from speaking to the media and such. She said that Palin’s not a “delicate flower,” that she’s a strong woman and can handle herself. She called for the McCain campaign to “Free Palin.” Well, I’m sorry Miss Rosie Riveter, but the real reason the McCain campaign is sheltering her from press conferences (which she has held none of yet) and network news interviews (which she’s only conducted 3 of) is because of her overwhelming lack of experience. If she were to sit at an open forum press conference, she would get so grilled it would cast a serious doubt over the McCain campaign. Foreign policy? Fughetaboudit. Foreign policy to her is going to the local Chinese restaurant and trying to negotiate the menu and get a proper order through to the waiter. Her economic policy is spitting out as many poorly named kids as possible to try and get some sort of tax break. And abortion? We all the know that’s a short argument.

It has nothing to do with the fact that she has two boobs and a vagina, so please, watch your step when you’re getting down from your little platform there. I’m just really confused with how people have made such a huge deal about Obama’s “lack of experience,” but are overlooking the fact that there’s a 50% chance that John McCain will die in office, and it could feasibly be President Palin, of Alaska, soon. Luckily, there have been some cheap one way flights circulating online around the time of the election.

Song of the Week: “Naïve” by The Kooks

Quote of the Week: “You have a cough? Go home tonight, eat a whole box of Ex-Lax, tomorrow you'll be afraid to cough.” - Pearl Williams

Random Fact of the Week: The first product to have a bar code was Wrigley's gum.

Picture of the Week: Symbolism? (Hint: Think US Economy)

Until next week, $700 Billion,


Puck Mule

September 19, 2008 Standing In Line

Note to self: Don’t go to a late night bar by yourself, you may find yourself to be a nice fresh piece of meat in a gay bar.

So something has been occurring on a semi-regular basis around here. It involves standing in line. Granted, line-standing varies significantly by each culture. On a recent trip to Austria, I would stand in line waiting for the chair lifts (ski trip). One thing is that there was no “line,” it was just people funneling to get onto the chairlifts. It was pretty much the most sophisticated form of organized madness I had seen since my days in China in ’89. I could look down and see another man’s ski between my legs. Granted, I enjoy intimate relations, but they usually don’t involve a complete stranger, my virgin ass, or a man; thanks for playing Gunther.

I’m a man that likes my space while in line. It’s all going to the same place, and me standing ass to crotch with you really isn’t going to make the service go any faster. However, what I’ve noticed out here is that the personal space I once enjoyed back home has disappeared quicker than Michael J. Fox’s vertical in Teen Wolf. I’m standing in line to get a late lunch, so there’s 3 people in front of me, and the place is wide open. So I appropriately walk up, and respect the guy in front of me, and give him about 2-3 feet of space. We stand for a minute or two, I order my sandwich, and two guys walk up behind me. No big deal right? You’re about as wrong as this lady. I think I could almost feel how many coins he had in his pocket when he stood behind me. I gave him the courtesy glance, signifying “Hey asshole, seriously?” I mean, come on, there’s practically no one in line, do you really need to get that close to me. As soon as I ordered I immediately removed myself from the line, and stood behind them. They shot me a few looks as if to say, “What are you doing?” As if I even needed to explain myself.

The next day I get in another line, in the same cafeteria in our building. I'm realizing that life is a serious of events, precluded by standing in a line of some sort. Again, not a lot of people are there. Another guy walks up, this time committing TWO serious faux-pas: he stands right behind me, leaving about 5-6 inches, AND he’s chatting on his cellular device at rather loud volumes. I was convinced he thought my ear was the actual microphone. If my ear could kick a man in the balls, it would’ve done it right then and there. Instead, I just decided to swallow my pride, and look like an idiot by standing in line with my finger in my ear. I was hoping he might get the hint . . . he didn’t. That sandwich was goddamn delicious though.


Song of the Week: “When I'm Small" by Charlie Everywhere

Quote of the Week: “Don't spend two dollars to dry clean a shirt. Donate it to the Salvation Army instead. They'll clean it and put it on a hanger. Next morning buy it back for seventy-five cents.” - Unknown

Random Fact of the Week: Mexico and Iceland have the highest per capita consumption of Coca-Cola.

Picture of the Week: 60% of the time it works every time.

Until next week, Warning: Guests with health restrictions and mothers to be may wish to bypass the ride,


Fred