I’m going to fix that, but for now check out this dude- fucking rocks it explaining why he’s for Obama. The reason I usually shake my head all election year is that you rarely see people basing their allegiance to a candidate or party on actual policy. We all need to be this informed.

(link for feedreaders)

I’m totally catching up on what I know about the potential candidates. Seen on tony pierce’s Busblog.

Last night I was confronted by something extremely troubling.

Something that even as I witnessed it my mind tried desperately to dismiss. Like the fannypack, it simply should not exist, yet there it was.

A seven-person bike.

Seven. I had to count them a couple times.

Check it out here. (link)

It’s exactly the same bike. And coincidentally it was helmed by exactly the same pretentiously hip seven people with exactly the same “Wheeeee- follow us to the grocery co-op!” look on their faces.

I got home and what was Heidi’s response?

“You know the only thing better than seeing a seven-person bike? Seeing it hit by a car. That would be hilarious- seven people flying all over the place.”

I am married to the most perfect piece of perfect perfection.

If you ever build a time machine, and you go back to prior Y2K, there is one major development of our era that absolutely no one will believe.

By the time Britney Spears ever poses nude (and we all know she’s got to be just one more failed marriage/tv-show away), no one will care.

I swear, you tell our past selves that and you’ll be burnt as a witch. Prior to 2000 I thought she was going to get her own cult. Thank you, Mr. Federline, for helping us focus on more important issues.

Doesn’t anyone realize that they’re not watching reality TV?

Survivor, Fear Factor, The Apprentice, The Bachelor…

They’re game shows.

Just packaged differently, like those salads in a bag that get us to pay four times as much for lettuce.

Uncle Eddie has an assignment for you kids.

Ready?

Go get a baseball bat. Wooden preferably. We don’t want anyone getting killed here or losing an eye. Unless you simply have to hear that satisfying little “ting.”

Got it? Nice.

Now take that bat and hide out in a local public restroom. Check the stall after each person does their business.

Not to worry, I don’t want you doing anything sick. I’m not here to have you compromise your morals- you don’t even have to look into the bowl.

We’re hunting here. Hunting down the OCD nutjobs who leave behind their nasty toilet paper nests on public toilet seats. Apparently their asses are far too valuble to touch a public toilet, but it’s a privelage for us to have to remove it when they’re done? Ohhhh I long for the day when we will exact sweet, sweet vengance.

Simply: they. must. be. stopped.

And I envision a day- A glorious day when the people rise up to rid the land of their scourge.

“Hide In a Public Restroom Stall With a Louisville Slugger Day.”

Do you hear it? Do you hear the countless generations who came before us calling out for us to avenge them? Do you hear the hum of our collective anger finally reaching critical mass? It can all end with a flush and a thud- or a ting, of course, if you insist.

I’m thinking if we all go to our bosses with the idea we could get it off with pay.

Who’s with me?

As much as I wish I were on my way to Satan’s Toaster Oven (or as some like to call it, the Coachella Music Festival) alas, I must stay in Reno this weekend. Sacrifices must be made when you are a father.

True, there’s something magical about waking at 7AM to a 120 degree tent you passed out in at 5AM with your best friend and an empty fifth of whiskey. Yes, and then there’s the draw of the Mad-Max-like treeless landscape that offers you no hint of shade. Let’s not forget the 100,000 smelly pissed off rude dehydrated patrons pressed up against you while you fight to stay concious enough to hear Beck over the Techno tent blaring away next door.

Ahhhhhh the memories. Like the gestapo table at the entrance of the concentration camp they called a campground where all your stuff bakes all day in your tent.

The three dollar bottles of water.

Most of the time my enjoyment came from knowing i had survived.

At times I thought they might as well call the main stage the Thunderdome.

Of course you do get to see a lot of great bands.

BUT…

If I had the cash, I’d much rather be heading to Lawrence, Kansas for the Wakarusa Music Festival this year.

Great weather. Lots of trees. Water. And awesome music.

Wilco, Son Volt, Carbon Leaf, Ozomatli, Robert Bradley’s Blackwater Surprise, Neco Case…

And did I mention no Emo?

I would give my left ventricle to go to that.

If you still haven’t settled on a graduation present for your favorite smartass darkly comical semi daddy-blogger, I just made it a lot easier.

It’s april 15th and i work at an accounting firm.

that means 2 things.

1. i am on edge.

2. i am shlighltly inhebriated.

carry on.

There is an effect. A tremor within ones soul which can only be brought on by a life and death situation. It is when we are occasionally confronted by our own mortality that life truly finds meaning.

Just as many of you readers have certainly encountered in the last few weeks, I too have felt a stirring from deep, deep within me while watching the recent television coverage of the Schiavo case. Of course, I believe it was a quarter-pounder that had been lodged in my colon for the better part of the week.

With that load off my chest (end horrible image) I’ve been consumed lately with the idea that I too could at any moment I may be rendered a zucchini by a massive physical trauma. And imagining myself in that tender state, I keep trying to answer one question: “would Heidi still love me if I was basically reduced to a permanent Jell-O mold?”

So I test her. Most of the time she’ll come out of the shower, and there I am sprawled out in front of her dresser, clutching my heart and drooling up a storm. Occasionally when I’m really into it I’ll pretend to follow a balloon as it floats overhead or even duct-tape a garden hose to my belly. Does it even faze her? She merely steps over me and proceeds to put on her makeup.

Cold. So I guess if I want to stay married I better eat healthy and watch my cholesterol.

Martha Stewart was found guilty, right? She served time for breaking the law. But no matter how obvious her quilt might have been or how fitting the punishment, she’s treated like a martyr- even a hero.

Save Martha
Martha Talks

She came home from prison to one of the most over-valued stocks on the market. Every day on the news you see everyone from Rosie O’Donnell to local housewives proclaiming her to be a martyr.

Which brings me to the real significance of the whole ordeal:

Who would have thought that of all people, Martha Stewart would be the one who finally bridged the gap between middle-aged white women and the black community?

She’s the soccer-mom’s O.J.

It doesn’t matter if she did it. It doesn’t matter if she’s guilty. They relate to her & stand by her. I’m surprised we never saw parades of stay-at-home moms headed up by Regis and Kathy Lee, calling for riots in New Hampshire unless she got off.

Martha Stewart- making connections and breaking down the barriers which divide America.

So people can’t take a joke and they forced the sissys over at vermont teddy bears to stop selling the “crazy for you” bear. Now that’s a blow to good humor everywhere- and right before valentine’s day! You heartless bastards.

Next I hear they’re going after the “we’re just like you, only slower” bear and the “don’t throw me away” bear. Another rumored target is the “life goes on” beanie baby- a hot collector’s item on ebay.

Not to fear tho kiddies, you can still get “bi-polar bear” over at toxic teddies.

Shabooty brought up an excellent point regarding my previous post.

Offensive humor is more than just fart noises and comments about bedding someone’s momma- it’s actually a deep, complex issue. Most people simply cannot wrap their minds around it, and that explains the people from my last post, and people like Miss Jones.

When you blind yourself to the implication of your words, chances are your dumb ass is gonna say something ignorant. Be it, “CUT OFF THE TV! SPONGEBOB IS SEDUCING TIMMY!” or something like the current brou-ha-ha over at HOT 97.

See, they were pushing the boundaries of decency, as most morning shows do, and went too far. They played a song making fun of the tsunami which also used racial slurs against Asians. Now when one of their own hosts spoke up on behalf of Asians they thought, “oh you silly girl, we all know black people can’t be racist.” Then they got more offensive, and eventually the Asian community, the city government, and the hip-hop community all stepped in to say “nu-uh.” Now they’re suspended.

So they question is, would I condone this and say “oh come on people, get some thick skin.” No. Because I believe I understand the continuum. There’s a difference b/t finding a sliver comedy in tragedy and exposing it gently, and mindless stunts like that. I know b/c I’ve gone there. In my own act I’ve slipped in a few Tsunami jokes (i stole from pete) and people laughed. People laughed b/c I pointed out something legitimately funny and gave them an excuse to laugh. Then I left the stage.

Here’s a great example of what I’m talking about.

A new suit, some flowers, and a pine box…

*tearing the envelope open, blowing in it to open it, and…*

What Johnny Carson has planned for tomorrow.

I read that at Tony’s site yesterday and completely ruined my desk with coffee spray. That’s funny. I could see Carson himself doing that one. He made light of a sad situation- but he wasn’t an idiot about it.

It’s a fine line kiddos. I’d love to hear what ya’ll think about it.

Nothing says “please kill me” like those photo Christmas cards. Every year I beg Heidi not to make me pose for one, and every year I lose.

For me, picking a location to take the picture has more to do with “what background will best hide my shame?” You have your basic poses too- each one has its own special place in the hell of lameness. Sooo…. for your reading pleasure, and so that I can dig the hole deeper with which to bury myself once Heidi reads this, I give you…

THE LIST OF PHOTO CHRISTMAS CARD CLASSIC EXAMPLES THAT SUCK:

• Let’s All Cuddle Up in Front of the Fire! This one is the classic Wal-Mart card pose. There you are, with your dogs and presents and kids- all posing on the rug where you conceived them. Nice.

• Look What My Wife Dressed Me In! I don’t have much to say about this one- just feel the shame dripping off it.
• We Did This Last Minute So We’re All Lined Up Under A Dead Tree! That one stays up all year on my fridge- just so everyone sees how cool you are.
• Hey Wow! We’re All Poking Out From Different Sides of a Tree! Ha ha- that’s great! How do you make your family look so gay? We have to try that!
• Check It Out! We Dressed Our Dog/Cat Up For Christmas! Those are fascinating. How could someone who owns a pet hate them that much? Nothing says happy holidays like totally humiliating your closest companion!
• Oh Look, We Took This when It was Summer Time! This is the one where everyone is in shorts, at the beach. Thanks- that’s just what I need to see when it’s 6 thousand degrees below zero and my car won’t start, jerkhole. Thanks for the condescending card. Die.

I just want to say it here, before you get yours:

I am so sorry. I really am.

If you can think of an alternative I could suggest to her, please leave it in the comments.

Hey you. Yeah- you.

I have a question for you.

Nahhh, nevermind. I’m not sure you’re ready for it. It’s pretty early.

Ooooo kaaaaayyy, fine. But you’re gonna be sorry.

What if…
(more…)

Ever find yourself watching TV and you’re really into a show and then all the sudden you get embarrassed because of the commercials that are coming on?

Because you realize that you must fit into the demographics the advertiser is going for?

And it makes you sad?

There I’ll be- watching America’s Most Grizzly Construction Accidents- In Space! or something… minding my own bees wax. And then everything gets quiet… and I say to myself, “wait- wasn’t that like the sixth Viagra commercial in a row?”

CRAP!

“Get it off me! Get it off!”

So I never go to that channel again.

Heidi finds me curled up in the shower and is all, “honey, how come Spike TV, USA and FX are all blocked?”

“Hush it. You still have your Golden Girls reruns.”

It’s got me paranoid. It doesn’t stop there either. It seems I can’t let my guard down no matter what I’m watching.

Last night I’m watching some documentary on the royal family or something and Heidi hears me call out from the couch, “Honey- have you noticed any feminine dryness on me lately?”

I’m actually considering switching to PBS or reading. It’s that serious.

You know those dumps that remind you just how good dumps can get?

The kind that raise the bar on morning dumps?

What should we call those?

You haven’t lived until you’ve had king crablegs, oysters, prime rib and an omelet for breakfast, washed down with endless mimosas.

All you can eat, too.

Damn I love Reno.

Men- Do yourselves a favor.

Talk to as many Asians as you can tomorrow.

Real ones, too. With accents.

Just do it.

You simply have to hear it referred to as…
(more…)

So Google went and bought Keyhole, makers of aerial maps taken by satellite. “But why,” you ask. What would Google want with photos of every square inch of planet Earth? No fear, gentle readers, uncle Eddie has a few ideas that could blow this whole thing wiiiiiide open.

• The ultimate most sickest version of Mapquest EVER!!!!

• Search for someone, and they wave to you.
• They could do cool contests where people dress up their property to look like the google logo to win cash and prizes. OK that one sucked.
• Rooftop sunbathers. Nerds rejoice.
• Grand Theft Auto: Your Neighborhood. They could start using the photography to customize video games. Carjack your math teacher.
• One step closer to knowing everything you do. Always. They know what you search for, what’s on your desktop, who your friends are, what kind of email you get- and now, what you barbeque. Begin construction on your tinfoil hat, friend.

I guess it’s obvious I have no idea. Do me a favor and let’s hash this one out in the comments.

You know, the poor don’t have much. Serious. Doesn’t that make you feel bad? They are really, really poor. Well, then- how come we let them get robbed RIGHT IN FRONT OF OUR FACES?

That’s right. And who is robbing them? THE RICH. Yup. That disgusts me.

The rich have cribs. They have cars for each holiday- including minor ones like Arbor Day. They gargle with Crystal and use priceless paintings to towel off after they shower. So WHY do they go and take what little the poor have?

It’s sick. It’s barbaric. I can’t live in a world like this.

Why Britney? Why Christina and for the love of all that’s good and holy, WHY Paris?

Why, when you have all those riches, do you have to go and STEAL WHITE TRASH?

Those are good, hard working, decent folks. It used to be they could count on you celebs to wear stuff they could never hope to afford. Award shows, premiers- everything you went to you celebs would wear the richest looking stuff imaginable. Weird crap too. Anything to look rich.

“Oh this dress? Isn’t it gorgeous? Calvin Klein hand-dipped 12 minks in solid gold and then linked them together using spotted owl feathers. They’re very in this year.”

But now you sport tractor hats and neon tube tops and always look like you woke up in the arms of a trucker named Jimbo and stumbled right out of his cab onto the pages of US. How dare you. Is nothing sacred?

Lay off, sisters. White Trash belongs to the poor. They don’t have much, but let them keep tight capris with high heels and huge hoop earrings. Go back to your lavishly expensive designer styles and leave them some dignity.

Without a Doubt- New York Times article by Ron Suskind.
Link for those who don’t want to subscribe to NYT.

I’m voting for Kerry.

True, I would rather just vote for my unborn child and Sean’s dog, but even they don’t seem to have their act together yet. I have struggled for four years to support the President. I voted for him. Initially, I was drawn to what I had read was his collaborative style of leadership; he was said to trust the judgment of the people who aided him. He was said to be a man who had strong principles, but sound judgment.

I have watched, and I have been moved to try and understand his policy decisions. It was hard. Both his economic policy (or lack thereof) and his actions regarding foreign relations have been laughable. And “well, Bush works in mysterious ways” only goes so far. I have learned though, that most of the time the simplest of answers is usually correct. If he looks like an idiot, walks like and idiot and quacks like an idiot, he probably is one.

This article outlines the basic problem with Bush’s presidency, and the reason why at a time of crisis he looked like the right fit. He spits out answers. Of course they may seem stupid or misinformed or lacking basic deductive skills, but they come out relatively fast. Most- now this excludes you, gentle readers- people want someone else to think for them. That’s why opinions and issues become so polarized.

With the internet, file sharing, idea sharing, blogs and the like unleashing information and ideas, it’s going to become harder and harder to maintain control like that- but it’s still possible. You have to work hard to make sure that decisions are made by a small group. You make sure that questioning leadership is seen as disloyalty, and you make damn sure that decisions, attitudes, and ideas flow down and the only thing that flows upward is good news. Sure, people will crack the veneer and spread the word that this is how you do business, but you still have a chance of maintaining control- at least long enough to secure another 4 years.

I hate that. That’s what bugged me most when I wanted to be a minister. I wanted to help people and make a difference in the world. When it came down to it, though, it was obvious: most people would think what you told them to. They wanted to believe stuff. Now, the content or the logic weren’t much of a concern, just the image that you had answers.

“Faith heals the heart and the spirit, but it doesn’t do much for analytical skills.” – Suskind

The image of infallibility is the basis of the Bush Presidency. Now, that is very reassuring in a time of great crisis like 911. Not so great once people have the time, the freedom and the balls to start questioning stuff.

Now here’s the tricky part. When you look to have the answers, and you have managed to capture a relatively large amount of the unthinking masses you have it made. All of this is assured by your opposition. Because, even though you have an opposition, it’s still got a large amount of these same unthinking masses- people who leave it up to someone else to do the thinking. And who actually does raise their voice to oppose you? Your first and loudest opposition is the fringe. And these voices work to discredit their movement, because they don’t mind resorting to emotional, loony and untrue arguments. They’re the fringe, what do they have to lose.

Now, I believe that enough people are moving over to the Kerry camp to give him a chance, but he still may lose. At a time when so much information is so free, it’s scary that most people still get their opinions from mass emails, but my guess is it’s true. Those who are the majority online are not the majority of the nation.

It’s taken me a while to finally decide on this- I try not to make decisions like this quickly. I’m not a fan of Kerry but at least he doesn’t freak me the hell out like Bush does. I’m not looking for someone I agree with, I’m just looking for someone I can put a reasonable amount of trust in.