Dave Goes Mexican

It's a very strange time in this country. Josh Hamilton, for instance, noted the overpowering smell of marijuana wafting in the outfield at AT&T or Pac Bell Park, or whatever they're calling it this week. LeBron James looked absolutely confused, mortified, and scared Tuesday night when he was lustily booed in Boston. The Democrat Party has become totally delusional at the close of this ridiculous political season, attacking these strange Tea Party people on baseless personal grounds. All the while, our fearless, pathetic, fake leader, one Barack Hussein Obama, is going to India next week and taking like 800 members of the government with him - leading me to the conclusion that Barry might be setting up a government in exile in Mumbai. It's all very weird. The most insane laden thing I've seen though involves the guy on the MSNBC - the one who steals from Edward R Murrow and used to work with the En Fuego guy on the ESPN. I was scouring the World Wide Web of Deceit last night and came across an "essay" he'd read over the air earlier in the week. The thing went on for close to 20 minutes. In it, the MSNBC guy ripped into the Tea Party, excoriating all them as devils. At points he compared them to pro-slavery southerners, fans of lynchings, and corporate elitists from robber baron days. It was mostly incoherent. Which is fine, when you're angry sometimes rational thought loses way to something very akin to demagogic rambling. What strikes me about the whole rant is this: a man who slammed W night after night for years, now despises those who voice dissent against the man in power and the liberal policies that the MSNBC guy supports so fervently. It's blatantly hypocritical, and a bizarre spectacle, watching him belittle people who simply disagree with him. I'm looking forward to checking out his analysis and reaction next Tuesday night - he might walk off the air in disgust, or drop dead from a massive coronary. Seriously, he was that out of control with rage in the rambling piece from earlier in the week. Strange days indeed, as John Lennon said.

As far as my little, pathetic, boundlessly delusional world is concerned, things just churn on close to normal. I was out at Wing Joint the other night for a little bit and got into an interesting conversation with Tess (not the Thomas Hardy Tess). She was commenting on the turnout for my birthday get together earlier in the week and noted the large number of folks who stopped in to wish me well throughout the evening. I'm not sure exactly how many folks made it a point to stop in, as I was wasted. But for a Monday evening, and considering the fact many of them could care less about MNF, it was a big turnout. Tess speculated that lots of people must like me for this turnout to have happened. And I thought about that for a few moments, then told Tess that I have virtually no idea why anyone would like me, but that I am entertaining. I admit that. I can get a group of people almost pissing themselves with laughter for some reason. As for Tess, she seemed to be unsure why so many people might like me as well. As the conversation seemed at a standstill, I put out my Marlboro Light and strode back inside to the bar, had Dave pour me another indiscriminate light beer, and resumed drinking.

Speaking of Dave, I told him that I'm running out of derogatory synonyms to describe his Glenn Beck fetish, as I've used dozens the past 7 or 8 months. And that from here on out, I will cease referring to Dave on this blog with having any connection to Glenn Beck. I'm not sure that he believed me, but after today I am stopping. You'll see, Dave.

Goose was out last night for the FSU/NCSU game at Wing Joint and was none too pleased with the outcome. Anyway, at one point Goose informed me that he had spent some time earlier in the day doing a bit of babysitting for a co-worker. He was watching her 6 year old daughter. When informed of this, I asked, "You didn't molest her, did you?" And Laurie was sitting to my left at the moment, heard my query, and said, "That is so wrong." Goose didn't seem too offended, he just said "Fuck you, asshole." Then he went out to smoke.

Lots of talk her in the Gate City has centered around Halloween costumes this week. As the drunks remain gleefully ignorant of what's going on in the world. Anyway, Dave has been talking about dressing up as a Mexican for the occasion. Only he's having a dickens of a time coming up with a proper costume. Dave showed me something he'd bought at Party City that was supposed to imitate traditional Mexican dress - you know, those burlap looking things that Mexican bands wear over their heads as they serenade folks with La Cucaracha or whatever. The thing Dave bought at Party City is multi-colored with oddly feminine pastel stripes. It doesn't look authentic. The worst thing about it is that it's too small. When he tried it on last night, it looked like a bib that they'd give retards in a group home. He's gonna have to get something different I think. That is unless Dave changes his costume to be a bib wearing retard in a group home. Then, he'll look spot on fabulous. I told Dave that if he really wants to dress up as a Mexican, all he has to do is walk around in ill-fitting jeans, a sweat soaked T-shirt, wielding a leaf blower.

Speaking of Halloween, I don't dress up to celebrate. Which reminds me of the last real Halloween party I went to back in 2004, in Durham of all places. I went to this party with my friends Jen (Happy Birthday, Jen!), Josh, and Tod Cannon. While there I remember having a conversation with a guy called Z, he was quite distressed that I wasn't in costume. And I remember Z told me at one point that I looked like an asshole preppy. I laughed at that. I'm sure Z was dead on there. Another conversation I had that evening was with a way to the left guy named Dan. I had worked with Dan quite a bit the previous 3 or 4 years and I liked the guy. He was easy to work with, good at the job, and had a great sense of humor. Now, you might recall that Halloween 2004 was just days before the big presidential election and Dan was dressed as a shrub to mock old W. It was a pretty good costume. We started talking politics and Dan was convinced that the imbecilic lefty John Kerry was gonna win. I talked to him for 15 or 20 minutes, trying to convince him to not get his hopes up. I was 95% certain that W was gonna prevail. But Dan was a true believer. I could never convince him. Alas, I think Dan was near suicide the following Wednesday when Ohio went to W and ended the matter. Since then, I have heard that Dan has moved into some kind of leftist cult-like commune in Virginia - eventually cracking due to W's reelection. It's kinda sad really. As I said, I liked the guy a lot. That same night was also eventful because it was the night that Carolina upset 3rd ranked Thug U - the highlight of the John Bunting era in Chapel Hill.

----->

The 10 Gets A Shot

Quick Happy Birthday to Brandon today. The kid is getting old.

Speaking of birthdays, I managed to have one just the other day. Turned 40 - which is awfully depressing to type. Believe me. The whole day is a bit blurry, as you can imagine. Some of the folks at Wing Joint on Battleground were nice enough to throw a kind of get together to mark the occasion. I turned up just before 7 - half in the bag. Dave, the Glenn Beck apologist, was pretty hammered already. And then folks started buying me shots. I remember little after kick-off of the G Men/Cowboy game. But I did wanna thank everyone who came out. Throughout the night there were quite a number of well wishers.

I was gonna put up a silly, self-indulgent post about turning 40. But I never felt like it. So, I didn't.

A very odd trivia competition broke out last night at Wing Joint on Battleground. Our team made 3 fatal errors and, quite deservedly, lost. The first mistake involved risking too many points on an answer we weren't sure of. That was my fault. They asked what TLC reality star was born Katherine something or other. I immediately wrote down Kate Gosselin. And put the maximum points. It was some LA Ink girl - Katy something. Then we made a terrible error about what NKOTB member is on some program with Tom Selleck - Stacey wrote the wrong Wahlberg brother - the one who was never in NKOTB. I should have double checked the answer sheet. A very silly and needless mistake. After that, we still had a good chance to win on the last question. And then the 3rd mistake was made. We answered too fast and didn't talk out our answer. It involved who won the Grammy for best album in 2000. We put Steely Dan for Two Against Nature. And that album was released in 2000. And it did win best album. The problem was that it won the award at the 2001 award show. It's a shitty trick question. But we should have thought it through better anyway. At the award show in 2000, Santana won. Such are the vagaries of playing the silly and highly irrelevant team trivia.

This stupid election is quickly approaching. Only 6 more days to endure the endless and mindless TV ads. I'm very disappointed in Geilfuss. After starting his campaign website 2 weeks ago, he's basically quit campaigning. It's very distressing. I think he's only gonna get 2 votes - his own and Tyson's. And they're both likely to incorrectly spell Geilfuss's name on the write-in ballot. Especially Geilfuss himself...

Huge news in the sordid world of NFL football - it appears the super intense Mike Singletary has named the 10 the starter for Sunday's tilt in London against Denver. The only problem is that the 10 is no longer wearing #10. The 10 is wearing #1. It's very confusing for me. And the confusion is compounded by the fact that there is still a #10 with Baltimore. Marc Bulger changed his number after the 10 was released. It's a crime against nature in my mind - and, no doubt, mine alone. But the 10 is always gonna be the 10. It doesn't matter what number the 10 is wearing or if there is another Raven wearing the #10. That in no way has any bearing on the simple fact that the 10 is the 10 and will always be the 10.

Teen Angst

6 Bars, 14 Beers, & 2 Shots - A Typical Football Saturday In The Gate City

I think I may have finally figured out the key difference between liberals and conservatives. I mean beyond all the obvious policy differences, religious differences, blah, blah, blah. Forget all those for the moment. Here's what, after too many years thinking about this, I've decided: Liberals tell us, that no matter how good things seem for the individual or society as a whole, they are way worse than we believe. Our relatively boring, comfortable lives are not what they should be. In short, we don't have it as good as we COULD. Of course to achieve this higher state of happiness, bliss, or whatever, we must let government have vastly more power over our day-to-day lives. Conservatives conversely, tell us that no matter how bad we think things are, they really aren't. They could be worse. Way worse. We have it better than we deserve, or even know. Be grateful, at all costs. Because if those pesky liberals had more influence, our happiness, bliss, or whatever would decrease exponentially. In short, liberals always see the glass as half-empty; conservatives as half-full. The basic worldviews between the 2 sides are polar opposites. It's why liberals tend to be miserable all the time. And are often no fun to hang out with. And while many conservatives are tragic bores, at least they don't constantly depress you. Me? I don't see the glass as half-empty or half-full, I just wanna know what kind of booze is in there. Scotch???

Another thing I think I've figured out, though it's somewhat painful to admit, is that while I tend to see things that others rarely see in a situation, ask questions no one else would consider asking, and offer alternatives that no one else would consider to solve problems, I often miss the big picture, the obvious. I focus on the minutiae, the obscure - I'm an outlier. And that has its merits, no doubt. But by so often missing, ignoring, or overlooking what most folks see or take from a situation, I live in what has to be charitably called a warped reality. Let me give you an example: whenever I read or see a news story, or even some work of fiction or a movie, about some tragedy that befalls a person, I rarely react to it in any kind of socially accepted emotional way - I'm incapable of empathy. However, if in a similar sad type tale, the person who has been visited by tragedy has a pet, I react very differently. I only wanna know if the pet is okay. I get very emotional about the pet. I don't react at all to the person. That kind of thing, I've been reminded a few times, is not healthy or normal. But I can't help it. It's just how I'm wired. In my reality, my compassion for a person pales in comparison to my compassion for an animal. When I was a young kid and saw Wizard Of Oz the first time (I was maybe 6 or 7), I was never remotely concerned if Dorothy made her way back to Kansas. Instead, I was worried to death about Toto. For example, during the tornado scene, when Dorothy is racing back to her aunt's house, I was unconcerned if she made it back or not, I kept looking at the bottom of the screen for Toto scooting along, and hoped like hell that the dog made it back. And when those flying monkeys came and scooped up that little dog, I started crying like crazy. I dare say, most kids did not have this reaction to the film. Sure, they cared that Toto was safe. But it wasn't their main worry watching the movie. For me, it was my ONLY worry watching the movie.

In a slightly similar vein, I was talking to Greensboro's favorite lush/day bar manager, KC of Wing Joint on Battleground fame, a few Fridays ago. Now, it was late, after 12. And KC was feeling it a bit, to say the least. Well, earlier that week she somehow got this blog address and had managed to read some of the stupid posts. Which is fine, whatever. KC kept complaining about how in the stories I relay here involving the Wing Joint, I make myself appear to be above all the drunken silliness. She said at one point, "_____, you were just as drunk if not more drunk than anyone else." And I dismissed this criticism at first as ridiculous. Because if you read, say 25 random posts, you should get the clear impression that I'm hammered at times, and not comporting myself properly in polite society. At the time I told her, "KC, they're stories. They don't necessarily reflect exactly what happened. Are you familiar with poetic license?" And I tried to leave it at that. But I've thought about that drunken conversation with KC a few times since that Friday and have come to the conclusion that her comment did have some merit, at least in the context of what I wrote in the previous paragraph. By that I mean, beyond twisting events to make them more amusing, maybe I miss the overarching reality of whatever happened. Do I tend to focus completely on the minute or trivial, and walk away from experiences totally missing the real significance of whatever happened? Of course I could easily defend that by noting that nothing of any significance ever happens at the Wing Joint late at night when everyone is half-hammered. And I don't think I'd be wrong about that. Still, I think this same deficiency in character, focusing solely on the trivial, may bleed over to other, less frivolous aspects of life (if there are any) than drunken bar shenanigans. I just rarely write about anything that isn't frivolous. Mainly, I admit, because I see all of human existence as totally frivolous. And that's something to explore on a different day. Maybe.

Speaking of utter frivolity, I am now gonna give all of you a glimpse into a typical football Saturday for me here this fall. I'm gonna relay what happened 4 days ago, on October 16. Now, it's important to note that Brandon was not in town Saturday. He was at some car race near Charlotte with his girl Lassie and his ex-girlfriend Kylie and who knows what other chicks. So, I was flying solo. I only bet 2 games Saturday and neither of them started at 12, so I was in no great rush to make it to a bar super early. I took off about 2:30 so I could see the 4th quarter of the noon games. I stopped to get 2 packs of smokes from a smelly Pakistani (cliched, but accurate) at a Quickie Mart on Lawndale. Then proceeded downtown toward RumbleForeskins, parked on W Market, and strolled into the bar. My man Tommy was bartending as always on Saturday afternoons. Tommy is a Bama fan - he's from Alabama, so I don't give him any grief about being a front-runner. I sat down and the usual cast of characters were there. I was immediately barraged with questions about point spreads and who I bet on and blah, blah, blah. I had Iowa as one of my two bets and Tommy put the game on the big screen for me. I stood and watched, not saying much to anyone. Eventually Iowa started to look golden (although it got a bit dicey at the end) and I sat down at the bar next to, of all things, a Boise fan. I'd seen this guy in there before and he's a big, burly, and pretty amiable dude. He's not too bad to sit next to sober (I'm very picky about who I sit next to sober at the sport's bar - the drunker I get, the less I care). And this Boise guy was rooting for all the other undefeated teams to lose and that was fine, whatever. At one point I got in my classic conversation with the guy about the difference between fans and graduates. I think I've blogged about this before. There is a huge distinction between randomly choosing some school to cheer for and having actually put the time in at said school to earn a degree (or 2). The Boise guy took my point pretty well. He was merely a fan of the Broncos. I am a slightly embarrassed graduate of TOSU. Big difference. At one point a Michigan fan came in, another guy I'd talked to a few times. He was so down on the Wolverines it was pathetic. We watched their comeback attempt fall short. I was relieved. Then I left RumbleForeskins. I'd had 5 Miller Lite 12 ounce cans over a 4 hour period. I was not in any hurry to drink. I had a long night ahead of me. I drove out W Market and pulled into a terrible place called Mender's Tavern right at 7, just in time for the TOSU/Badger game. I found myself highly annoyed right from the get-go. One, there was a Cornhole Tournament going on outside (and as you all know, I despise Cornhole). Two, the people in there were ugly. And three, there were moronic and loud Badger women in the bar. After Wisconsin raced out to that 14-0 lead, I had to get out of there for my own sanity. I only imbibed one beer at Mender's. I drove further out W Market and stopped into a truly horrible place called Winnie Cooper's. And there were so many ugly TOSU women in that place, not to mention ugly women rooting for the Phillies, that I only lasted until halftime. I had 2 more Miller Lites. It was 8:30-ish. I really needed to eat and it was halftime. So, I went over to Quaker Village and stumbled into some Mexican joint. It was dead. I ordered Devil Shrimp or something. It was delicious. While there I hoisted back a couple Mexican draft beers & a shot of Patron. I was starting to feel it at that point. Just before 9, I waltzed into that wing place on N Garden. TOSU was making a bit of a comeback. They eventually pulled within 3, and then choked. There was a dude in there with a TOSU jersey on and at one point as I was headed out to smoke, I asked what year he graduated, knowing full well that the answer was never. I said, "Oh, okay. You're just a fan then." Once it became clear that TOSU had no magical comeback in them, I started following the Boise score. I was laying 39&1/2. The Broncos were covering that at the half. Relieved, I texted Derek to see where he and Steve were. They were at Bananabees for some reason. I paid for my 2 big beers and shot of Cuervo, then headed out. I'd lost track of time. I pulled into Bananabees a few minutes later, walked over to the bar and had 2 beers with Derek & Steve. We talked about something. I have no idea what exactly. I drove home and went to bed. And that is a pretty typical football Saturday.

Hearts fail -young hearts fail

Renting A Room In Friendly Acres

Maybe it's just me, but during Sunday Ticket at Scams Brassfield there wasn't a Dallas fan anywhere to be seen, leading me to assume that they've all given up on the season. Not saying they shouldn't give up on the season after that pitiful performance against Minnesota, but going into the game Sunday, with a win, they would have been 2-3 - not the end of the world by a long shot. Steelers' fans were out though -every one of them ugly as sin, as always. Scary. And loud. Don't forget the loud.

It was about 6 years ago that I moved to the Gate City. For about 7 &1/2 years prior to that I worked in Greensboro off and on, but lived in a town about 20 miles north. When I decided to move into the city for good, I didn't have much of a plan. By that I mean, I had no plan whatsoever. I drove into Greensboro on Labor Day and checked into the Hampton Inn way out in McLeansville - not even technically in Greensboro. After a few days there, I decided that the Hampton Inn was not a long term housing solution. I checked into some half-dive place down near High Point Rd & Meadowview (not far from the mall). And that place was cheaper than the Hampton, but crawling with hookers. Lots of hookers. The ugly hookers - no Julia Roberts anywhere to be seen. So, I needed to get out of there too. I got a Rhino that Thursday and saw an ad that offered a room in a nice residential area for $125 a week - perfect for the time being - or so I thought. I called the number and talked to a very old man - a John Sanderford. We chatted for a few minutes. Then he put his wife on the phone to talk as well. I stopped by there the following afternoon. And this is when old John told me about the specifics of this room for rent. It was upstairs - in between their daughter's room and their 2 grand kids' room. The old couple stayed downstairs. I asked how old the grandchildren were. They were 5 year-old twins, Ethan & Emma (I think -I'm terrible with names). I thought that this might be a mistake. But I wrote the old timer a check for several weeks rent and told him I'd move in on Sunday. It was a quick move in - I only had clothes with me. The room was "furnished." It had a crappy old bed, a creaky dresser, and a rickety chair. The only good thing was that it had a decent TV with Dish Network. Over the 6 weeks I kinda lived there, I rarely used the TV. Here's why. My room was situated in the middle of the hallway. At one end were the two 5 year olds, and at the other was their mom (she was a few years younger than me, divorced, looked a little like Phoebe Cates, down on her luck a bit, and really struggling with some demon or other). The bathroom, which all 4 of us shared, was right next to my room. Oh, and this is key, the lock on my bedroom door didn't always catch - nor did the one in the bathroom. Luckily for me, I spent about 3 of the 6 weeks I stayed there working in Ohio, doing boring presentations for teachers. But the nights I did stumble in that house to sleep were really weird. Several times, one or both of the twins came bounding into my room at night - curious what the hell I was doing, generally wearing bed clothes. That freaked me out. Seriously. I was constantly worried that one of them would run in as I was changing clothes after a shower, ask me something about the male anatomy and then the cops would show up later that day or the next. A number of times, either the mom or the mom and twins would come right into the bathroom as I was showering. No one seemed to be too modest about bathroom etiquette. It made my trips to the can infrequent. I tried to wait until they were either out of the house, dead of night, or crack of dawn. Did I mention that I didn't sleep well at the Sanderfords? Well, I didn't sleep well at the Sanderfords. One of my favorite encounters happened one night at about 9, for some reason I was not out at a bar that night. Old John knocks on my door (at least he didn't barge right in), then walks in and starts talking to me about a screenplay he's trying to get off the ground about some relatives of his and the wild west and Sweden and a big inheritance. I was having a hard time making heads or tails of why he was telling me this. After 5 minutes, I figured out that old John either wanted me to rewrite the screenplay (I had told him that I write a bit for work, but I never mentioned anything about being an actual writer) or he wanted me to invest in getting the screenplay made. Eventually I figured out that he wanted the latter, as he threw out the sum of $10,000. He kept telling me what an investment opportunity it was. I was very straight with the guy, I told him if I had that kind of money that I wouldn't be living week to week in his house between his daughter and grand kids. As I said, after 6 weeks of this, I left. I went to an apartment complex and rented a place for 6 months. But before I left, I had my most memorable experience at the Sanderfords. I was coming back late one Wednesday or Thursday from some of these talks I mentioned in Ohio. I specifically told them that it would be late when I got in, very late. They said fine, fine. Now, it's important to note that they never gave me a key the entire time I was there. They always left the garage door open and I could get into the house through there. I'd never had a problem getting in the house. But this night, it was about 12:30, the damn garage door is down. I can't get into the garage to use the unlocked door that leads to the kitchen. So, I start ringing the door bell. And then knocking on the door. This goes on for like 5 minutes. I had yet to get a cell phone. I couldn't call. I walked around fuming. There was no way I was gonna waste my money on a hotel after I'd paid these nuts $125 that week to crash there and have 5 year old twins jump into bed with me on the slightest whim. No way. So I smoked a cigarette. Then I came back to the front door and started really pounding on it. Sure enough, after about 2 minutes, I saw a light come on and then Mrs. Sanderford (all 70 something years old of her) opened the door for me wearing some light-bluish nightgown. She did apologize at least. I'll give her that. I left the place the following Saturday. I have seen old Mr. Sanderford around town a few times over the years. He kind of looks at me like he might know me. But he never says anything. I remember once, he was at the bank the same time I was, this was probably 2 years after I lived in his home, I walked by him on the way to my car and asked, "You ever get the stupid screenplay off the ground?"

Some of you might be wondering why in the hell I did all of the above. Why I moved on a whim with no plan at all. Well, the answer to that question involves a girl. Obviously.

Barry Gets A 19 Year Old Sister-In-Law

Big news in the Obama family. Barry's half-brother, one Malik Obama, is taking on yet another blushing bride. For the ignorant, Malik is, and Barry's dead daddy was, big into polygamy - huge polygamists. Fucking huge. Malik already had 2 wives. Now, maybe these 2 couldn't keep up with his voracious perverted sexual demands. Why would I posit such a theory? - Because old Malik just married a 3rd stone cold beauty. The new one is a mere 19 years of age. Personally, I have no idea how men can stand to be married to one woman, much less three. More power to him though. I'm sure the African Viagra will be needed in the Malik Obama household (or hut, or whatever). You know, what with servicing 3 babes and all, just to satisfy his immense sex drive. In fact, it wouldn't stun me that if, as Malik ages, he's gonna have to become quite the cunning linguist to keep up with 3 demanding hoochies. The worst part for Barry is that this newest wife of his big bro isn't so many years older than his own offspring. And who knows, maybe when these daughters get to be 18 or 19, they'll run off to Africa and marry a 52 year old who already has two wives. Maybe this new bride will leave a real impression on Barry's impressionable young gals. It's certainly something to think about.

I've had several guys mention this week that they want me to go ahead and keep putting football picks up on this blog. I've been lax about it here the last few weeks; which is unfortunate, because I've been hitting at a very high percentage in both college and NFL. It's paid off for Brandon and Dave at least.

College - only taking 2 games this week myself - Iowa & Boise.

NFL - I like more games than I ever have in one week. It's ridiculous. I love the Texans. Also, Ravens. And Falcons, Bears, Raiders, Colts, & Jags. That's too many games. Way too many.

Get a taste in my mouth

As desperation takes hold

Dead Souls

I've been listening to quite a bit of the old Joy Division here recently. And that got me to thinking about back when I first started listening to Joy Division in late 1988. I was playing the Substance CD pretty constantly for a time. Anyway, I picked up Cara Forester one evening and she listened to a few of the depressingly brilliant songs in the old Volkswagen and then made this comment: "Very uplifting, _____. This music is making me suicidal." I said, "Exactly, Cara. Exactly." I think she responded "You're really messed up." I think I said "Don't we know this?" It went something like that.

They keep calling me

Chilean Miners Work Their Shafts

There is this media barrage right now about pulling miners out of some mine in Chile. I'm not sure who possibly cares about this. I do wonder a few things about this overblown "story" though: 1) What were these fellows mining? Their own business??? Ha! Get it? I'm making a pun. It's punny. Ha! I just did it again. & 2) How much chili do they eat in Chile? & 3) What was the masturbation situation down in the mine for the 10 weeks or whatever that this ordeal lasted? I mean did they circle jerk? Did they designate one miner "Mr Handjob?" What? Those are the only things about this miner rescue (or is it a minor rescue???) that I have any interest in.

I saw a report somewhere earlier in the week about the Haitian earthquake deal. Many of you will remember that I predicted just 2 or 3 days after the disaster that a vast majority of the money pledged in those celebrity driven fundraising telethons would never actually be sent. Well, here we are 10 months later and only about 20% of the money pledged has been sent. Shocking! But you won't hear that in many news outlets. I know very little. One thing I do know is that folks get emotional during a natural disaster and they feel good about themselves for a night or two by pledging dough to aid "victims" of said disaster. Then they go out, get hammered, try and create an alcohol fueled sex romp, & forget all about their pledge to give money to homeless Haitian earthquake survivors. It happens every time.

I also saw where our friend and phony saviour, one Barack Hussein Obama, admitted there was no such thing as a "shovel ready" job. And damn, I was proven prescient yet again. I endlessly mocked the notion of shovel ready jobs back about 18 months ago on this blog (back when Barry was hyping the stimulating packages deal as a cure-all for the nation's economic woes). Anyone who bought that jive was duped. I do want to commend Barry for coming clean about the spectacular failure that's been his first 21 months in office. Maybe he's sobering up to reality. Finally.

It's so pitiful for the Democrat Party right now that here in NC the woman running for US senate against Dick Burr (no relation to Aaron, that I know of) has this ad on TV where she's pushing the idea of change. I laughed out loud when I heard it a few minutes ago. Even though this woman (I've already forgotten her name) would vote in lock-step with Barry if she won, she's pretending that she's somehow gonna get Barry and those other failed Democrats to see things her way and, by golly, fix all the country's ills. Is anyone buying this? Has anyone seen this ad and not laughed out loud at the sheer silliness of her implausible claim as an agent of change? I don't vote. It's a huge waste of time on a perfectly nice Tuesday evening. But if I did, I wouldn't vote for this broad. She's insulting the intelligence of every North Carolinian. She'll be crucified at the polls. I bet 80-90% of citizens here don't even know her name. She'll be forgotten before she was ever known, if that makes sense.

Big news at the Wing Joint on Battleground. They started real live team trivia in there last night. And it was certainly interesting. There is a group of about 10-12 serious trivia players who stop in from time to time at the Wing Joint to play the Buzztime game. And for them, this was their first foray into the sordid world of team trivia. The company running it is the same company that runs the trivia in Atlanta. They're branching out evidently. Longtime readers of this stupid blog will recall many posts where I blogged about my experiences with trivia in Atlanta (if you haven't read them, they are from mid-March to mid-May of 2009). So, I have some experience at the game, to say the least. Well, there was a bit of a question going into last night's initial contest as to whose team I was gonna play on. Dave (Glenn Beck's apple polisher) and Liz (the GM of the Wing Joint) wanted me to be on their team. And I don't blame them. I know a few things. Now, I would have been fine with that. I like Dave and Liz. They're both friends of mine. They look after me as much as anyone can look after an almost 40 year old walking death wish. But my buddy Phil and his wife wanted me to be on their team. And you don't go against the wishes of Phil's wife. That would be a mistake. And I know better than to cross her. So I played with them. There were 5 teams out for the big showdown. Only it ended up not being much of a contest. We crushed everyone else. We were up 11 on the field going into the final, Jeopardy-style, betting question (they asked a question about Halle Berry at one one point, and that's too easy). And then we got that last one right as well. What's of note is that Phil's wife is a very bright gal (as is Phil) and she's super organized. With some experience she has the potential to be in Andy's league as far as running a team (and I've compared Andy's ability to run a trivia team to the catching prowess of Johnny Bench - he's that good at it). As many of you know, I'm an anti-social asshole. I hate dealing with people. I just wanna answer the questions at trivia and be left alone to rack my brain if it's a tough question. I think our new team has a chance to be very good. We could use a bright kid in their 20's (someone like Andy or Mcgrain) & a runner to take up the answers (someone like Geilfuss or Tyson). Even without those 2 missing ingredients, I like our chances to do serious damage if and when they ever have playoffs here in the Gate City.

I, Me, Mine

Geilfuss Starts His Campaign

Well, my Geilfuss for governor of Maryland campaign is taking off. And by taking off I mean that I've heard from 3 people who agree with me. One of them is Geilfuss himself. In fact, Geilfuss has started a new website to hype up his candidacy, post some policy thoughts, and offer up cabinet suggestions in case he wins (I informed him today that I thought he was a bit of a long shot). I urge everyone to visit his site and encourage Geilfuss to further flesh out his policy positions. The address is: http://www.cousinfrankfromspain.blogspot.com/ - I won't even try to explain the origins of the name of this new candidate site. Quite frankly, the reason Geilfuss gave for the name confused the hell out of me.

Interesting comment after last Thursday's post about Geilfuss for governor. I know I've got some followers in places I've never visited who've heard about this blog somehow or other. But I wasn't aware there were any readers of this blog from Milwaukee. Well, there is at least one. The commenter from Friday noted that Caitlin Upton (her picture was featured at the top of the post) went to school in Boone, North by God Carolina. And I was unaware of that. I appreciate the info. Then this commenter ended the comment by signing off with - Go Bucks! At first I thought it might be Brandon leaving a drunken comment, as Brandon is a fan of the City of Tampa. But even drunk, Brandon would spell Bucs correctly. Then I realized that this commenter had to be a fan of the Milwaukee Bucks. And I'm down with that. My man Paul Pressey.

Speaking of City of Tampa, thanks to the abomination that has become Carson Palmer, they knocked Geilfuss and I out of Survivor. In case you missed it, Cincinnati had the football up 7 with 2:28 left. Then Carson threw 2 interceptions to hand the game to City of Tampa. Mind you, this was after Palmer threw a pick 6 earlier in the contest to get City of Tampa into the ballgame. The whole thing is utterly ridiculous. And frustrating. I'd floated the idea of taking Indy for Survivor. In retrospect, ...

Speaking of football, I haven't posted my picks here the last few weeks. Maybe that's the key, as I've been on fire. I don't want to jinx it, but even Dave (Glenn Beck's #1 fan) has made $240 the past 2 NFL Sundays. College has been even better. 3-0 this past Saturday, as Minnesota, Michigan St, and Mizzu all beat the number. And 2 outright dog winners in the NFL yesterday with the Titans and Raiders.

Oh, one last football note - Pat Forde had it right in an article on ESPN.com last week. Les Miles has made a pact with the devil. It's the only logical explanation for how LSU keeps winning despite some of the most clueless, pitiful, and weird playcalling/clock management in the history of the known world.

One last, last football note - Brandon overheard a Cowboy fan at Scams Brassfield yesterday claim that Detroit's win over the Rams was their first home victory since 1997. And once again, that's the typical Cowboy fan for you. They just say misinformed thing after misinformed thing. There are exceptions of course. But they are few and far between.

I've got something about our friend Barry that I'll get to soon. These people in the Democrat Party are imploding. Fucking imploding.

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Geilfuss For Governor

The big meaningless election season is upon us, and in light of this unquestionably irrelevant fact, I think it's time that this irrelevant blog make some irrelevant endorsements on some of the breathtakingly irrelevant races.

Delaware Senate - Chris Coons (D) vs Christine O'Donnell (R) - Lots of media fascination with this contest, mainly centering around the fact that Ms. O'Donnell might be a witch, an anti-masturbation crusader, and a tax dodger, among other things. None of this matters. What does matter is that Ms. O'Donnell isn't a fat, ugly, butch-dyke, like, say, Barbara Mikuslki. That and the the fact that Mr. Coons has an unfortunately inflammatory name, not to mention he's a self-described Marxist, should make endorsing Ms. O'Donnell a cinch. Unfortunately, Ms. O'Donnell is also a kook. I can't support either of them. Official TBFH Endorsement: write-in vote for Joe Biden's stash of boner medication.

Connecticut Senate - Dick Blumenthal (D) vs Linda McMahon (R) - Huge race for all the fans of professional rasslin'. Mrs. McMahon's husband, Vince, has run the WWF forever. And that's enough for me to back her. Any woman who has been in business with Rowdy Roddy Piper, Big John Stud, George The Animal Steele, Superfly Jimmy Snuka, and The Mouth of the South, Jimmy Hart has my 100% backing. If Mrs. McMahon wins, I'm hoping she can schedule a steel cage match between Mrs. Barack Hussein Obama and Hillary Clinton, as long as they are both oiled up to the gills with Crisco. As for Mr. Blumenthal, he looks like a crook, something straight out of the Nixon White House. Official TBFH Endorsement: Mrs. McMahon.

Nevada Senate - Harry Reid (D) vs Sharon Angle (R) - This might be the most important race in the history of the Republic. Well, maybe not. Harry Reid is possibly the sleaziest liar in this entire 2 person field. I predicted way back about a year ago that Reid would lose this year. What I didn't know at the time is that the GOP would manage to put up a candidate even kookier that Glenn Beck. For one thing, this woman is involved with Scientology freaks. She also is so kooky that she shares my positions on a number of issues, including withdrawal from the United Nations and eliminating Social Security. In short, Ms. Angle should have no chance to win. Nada. But, she just might anyway. Because Harry Reid is the 3rd most hated person in the country, right behind Brett Favre and Coach K. And Harry Reid is a member of a cult, the LDS church. Yes, he's a Mormon. He wears the holy undergarments. I can't support either of these nuts. Therefore, Official TBFH Endorsement in Nevada: write-in a random skank from that Bunny Ranch show, maybe Air Force Amy?

South Carolina Senate - Alvin Greene (D) vs Jimmy DeMint (R) - One of my personal favorite contests. Why? Because Mr. Greene is perhaps the worst candidate in the history of the Palmetto State. He lives with his dad and has been charged with showing porno pics to an 18 year-old coed. And I say, rock on Alvin! Way to go Democrat Party - nominating a borderline pedophile for senator. Unfortunately, I'm guessing Mr. Greene will lose by about 50 points. Those well-heeled SC voters will rebuke him. As for Mr DeMint, I would never consider voting for him, he looks like the kind of tool that cheers for the Clemson Tigers (not that all Tigers fans are tools, they aren't; just most of the old white male Clemson fans are tools). Official TBFH Endorsement in SC: write-in for that Junior Miss South Carolina 2007, the one who opined about The Iraq. That chick is awesome. Maybe she's been harassed by Alvin Greene?

Maryland Governor - Marty O'Malley (D) vs Bob Ehrlich (R) Huge battle here. Marty O'Malley is an absolute failed disgrace as governor. He should have been impeached 3 years ago. I used to technically be Mr. O'Malley's employee, and that fact made me damn near suicidal. Even though O'Malley is an awful human being, he will very likely win. Why? Because the GOP has put up the ex-failed governor, Mr. Ehrlich, to try and unseat the current failed governor, Mr. O'Malley. And that was a fatal mistake, like when the Democrat Party nominated Walter Mondale to go up against Ronald Wilson Reagan in 1984 - a joke. It's a shame, because I can assure you that Marty O'Malley is loathed in and around the town Elaine Benes is from. Official TBFH Endorsement: Geilfuss. Yes, Geilfuss. He would be a catastrophe, but no worse a catastrophe than these other 2 bozos. Plus, Geilfuss would throw some ridiculous skank laden parties in the Governor's Mansion - Ross and I would be there, getting hammered, obviously.

On that note, I should stop making endorsements.

I Don't Know Most Of The People Who Know Me

A new sports bar has opened here in the Gate City, a joint on N Elm (near Pisgah Church) called Sloppy Seconds. Last Friday evening, I stumbled into the place just after 9. I was meeting Derek and Steve and we were trying to ascertain if Sloppy Seconds has any value as far as watching College Gameplan or Sunday Ticket. It doesn't. It's too well lit in there. The bar area is too small. And there were dozens of kids racing all over the place. All undesirable things when considering where to pass the time as the hard-hitting football action is going on. Anyway, an interesting conversation happened as the 3 of us were sitting there. Derek had just come from the Wing Joint on Battleground. He informed me that there was a guy there asking if I was coming out for the night. And everybody should know I almost never go out on a weeknight before 9. Anyway, I asked Derek who this guy was. Derek described him to me as the guy who rides a motorcycle. I had no idea who Derek was talking about. That's where the conversation got interesting. I told Steve and Derek that I don't know most of the people who know me. They couldn't agree with me more. In fact, Derek noted that everyone knows me around the seedy Gate City bar scene; yet, I rarely know the people who know me when they say hello or whatever to me. Andy will tell you this is 100% true. There was rarely a night that went by in the town Elaine Benes is from that didn't involve me asking Andy, after someone came up to say hi, "Who is that? Do I know that person?" I never remember anybody. It's a sign of narcissism. No doubt about that. Hence, it's true that I don't know most of the people who know me.

Later last Friday, Steve, Derek, & I made our way over to the Wing Joint on Battleground. There we found one of the most annoying women I have come across all year. This woman is really into the silly trivia machines they have in there (I believe they call it Buzztime these days. Back in the day it was called NTN.) and I had apparently met her sometime over the summer. I had zero recollection of the chick. Nada, as my man James Spader said in Pretty In Pink. She remembered me though. Evidently she sat and played the trivia game with me for a number of hours and wouldn't leave until she beat me. She informed that she never did - shocking (as many of you know, I am very difficult to beat at answering random trivia questions). This pale-skinned chubby trivia wannabe was itching for a rematch. The only problem was, I refused to play. Most nights I don't play at all. I'm there to watch sports and talk to my friends, not to play trivia. This trivia loving anti-beauty did not like this. And she wouldn't leave the damn bar. She stayed til 2. I was doing everything I could think of to get her to leave me alone. At one point I got a napkin and sent her a fake love note telling her I pined for her freckle ravaged Irish skin, hoping she'd either get pissed at the sarcasm and leave or take me seriously, get freaked out that a sociopath like me was into her, and leave. Getting her to leave was the key. Is that clear? And I failed. It made for a tedious night. I did mock her though. To her face. Alas, I think she was too drunk to get upset. That's the problem with alcohol; folks who would normally take great offense at what I was telling them, either get too drunk to understand that I'm mocking them or don't seem to care.

Q had mentioned recently his desire to get everyone together over at the Bananabees on Battleground for karaoke on some Thursday. Well, it happened last week. Not that anyone in our group sang. No one did. It was fun nonetheless. Why? Because the shots were flowing. We had Laurie, Q, Steve, Derek, Felt Flower, and yours truly out. I was there about an hour and a half and had 4 shots of whatever Q, Derek, or Laurie had the barkeep shove in front of me. And I gotta hand it to the Bananabees staff, these were some big ass shots. Well, in the midst of our shot-taking flurry, I started going up to the karaoke host and requesting songs. The kid obliged me. I kept requesting my man Christopher Fucking Wallace. And then I started screaming at the over 60 crowd in the Bananabees to get off their asses and rap some goddam Biggie Smalls. Then I went over to a party of 12 and asked why they would ever eat the shitty food at Bananabees. I was ill behaved. Nobody seemed to care. Eventually 2 little kids did that Soulja Boy dance, and yes, I had to leave. I'm afraid that image will be forever lodged in my head. We might go back again. Everyone says they had a great time. Maybe not Felt Flower though. I was mocking her endlessly. Why? Because she had a felt flower in her hair. Ridiculous.

I went to see the new Wall Street the other day. And it was passably entertaining. Josh Brolin was awesome, as always these days. The story wasn't remotely believable though. And the kid who played Gordon Gekko's protege or whatever is not a very good actor. I saw him in Eagle Eye one day when I was bored and staying at the Embassy in Atlanta or someplace. He was bad in that stupid movie too. I will say this though - the girl who plays Gekko's daughter, she was quite fetching. Although not nearly as fetching as her co-star in Pride & Prejudice, obviuosly...

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