Happy New Years or Yea Right. Where the hell have you been?

Yes, its been a while. Sometimes life has a way of re-directing your attention for a time. Sometimes you’re just not in the mood to blog or have anything of significance to say. Sometimes its just like “why?” and I’m all like “because, F- you thats why.” Sometimes its just as simple as I’m busy or tired or happy somewhere else.

Today I’ll swing by this blog, update the software and plugins, and do the general maintenance that none of you readers gives a shit about.

I do have some observations and random statements.

There is a lot of stupid people in the world. Stupid knows no bounds. Our President and current government are stupid.

Look at the majority of people on Facebook most of them are stupid.

Walk down the street. See all the people? Yep their all pretty much stupid.

IRS, stupid.
EPA, stupid.
Al Sharpton, stupid.
Radical Islam, stupid.
Ultra right wing fundamentalist Christian conservative, stupid.
Liberals, stupid.
Sony, stupid.
North Korea, stupid.
Pop music, stupid.
Someone that insists on telling others “They are not stupid.” Yep you guessed it they are fucking stupid!

I literally could fill line after line and page after page of examples of stupid. Then I’d be stupid.

You have the right to be as stupid as you want to be. Hell I don’t even care if you want to be stupid. Where I do take exception is when you aren’t happy being stupid and want to force others to be as stupid as you. You stupids do this through legislation, the mainstream media, your churches, and civic groups.

Really, go be as stupid as you want. Leave me the hell alone. I am perfectly content watching you be stupid.

My folks finally got a new puppy. See? His name is Cooper. He’s not stupid.

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Satan, laughing, spreads his wings!

Black SabbathOhhhhh Lord!

So last night after many months of anticipation I went and saw Black Sabbath in concert. Probably the first big name concert I have been to in the last five to eight years. My how times have changed. I’ll go thorough some general observations and tell you about my experience.

Over my life I have been to a good amount of live concerts of big name bands. In fact as I sit here thinking about it, the first concert I bought my own tickets to and got myself to the show on my own was an Ozzy Osbourne concert in the now extinct Hollywood Sportatorium down in Broward County, Florida probably in the mid 80’s. So seeing Ozzy back with two of the three original members of Black Sabbath is a nice full circle kind of thing.

Most of my live music experiences over the last five to eight years has been more the home grown, local bands, local venue type deals. I love the big name acts, but frankly I want to see new. I want to see the young jitter bugs striking out on their own trying to make it and if they got the spark I want to support them.

What started as more or less a joke some years ago with some close friends of mine who also enjoy a good dose of local music and dancing, whenever we would see a live rock and roll-ish type band, me being the critic would taunt the band (yes heckle, I admit I am “That Asshole”) into playing obscure bad assed rockers instead of some mainstream top forty bullshit to please the uptight old ladies in which ever establishment we were watching them in.

“WAR PIGS” became a calling if you will. A motto of mine. In fact I got so good at yelling it out, I have had at different times most of my well behaved, gorgeous, beautiful female friends who normally enjoy the typical top forty bubble gum garbage music come with me to some of these home grown rock bands in dirty hole in the wall bars, also scream out the request for one of rock and roll’s metal anthems right along with me. I am never more proud.

You know when you score a home run too. It’s your typical rock band, playing a local dive bar for $300 a night and a free round of beer. They are trudging through a set of Journey and maybe Barracuda by those two fat chicks. The looks on their faces show doom of playing some bullshit a bar manager told them the regulars like. Trying to make enough scratch for gas and grocery money. A few 50 something hags shaking their ass with the typical “white girl” dance. Then in-between some Creed and Chumba Wonga or whatever silly shit set list they made up, me in the back of the bar, usually shit faced and joking with my friends yells out during the awkward silence before he band launches into another career ending suicidal song by Foreigner I scream, “WAR PIGS!”

It generally goes one of two ways from here. A) ahhh yea we dont know that one and in their shame laugh off the misery of their lives (which really is just the misery of the old drunk asshole “me” pointing out that they suck balls and should commit mass suicide on stage) or B) they get a smile and look at each other like no shit someone in this shit hole with a sense of music appreciation, fuck it lets rip. They play it long loud and dirty. All the while the bar manager or establishments owners look on in slight disgust, while I proudly buy the band a round of drinks, jam $20 dollars in their tip jug/mug and sneer at the before mentioned pissed off establishment owners with a “fuck you” shit eating grin and dare them not to take my money for what I want to hear. A couple of hand shakes with the band during set break, some laughs and new friends made.

I’d say I am batting about .500 between the two outcomes but every time a B) happens, I forget one hundred A) over the years.

So you can imagine my happiness and my moment of Karma realized when Black Sabbath last night started the show with none other then “WAR PIGS”.

I just looked over at my friend Allen, gave him a smirk and said something like “Fuckin’ War Pigs, man”.

I dont have very many moments in life but last night was one. It was nice.

As you may also notice last night was my first real big name concert with a smart phone. I truly figured out and noticed “man times have certainly changed”. Instant access to data and live events anywhere in the world. Between Facebook, Twitter, and Youtube nothing is a secret anymore. You fart or see something happening in front of you and by golly it can be worldwide in seconds.

Its not Egyptian spring or a military coup of course, but goddamn it it was OZZY and Black Sabbath. There was people Face Timing with phones in the air. People sitting at home hundreds if not thousands of miles away watching War Pigs, right there with us.

There are no Zippos or Bics in the air any more. Its iPhones and Samsung smartphones. Everything is worldwide and instantaneous. Awesome.

There are also the fucking $13 beers and $40 Chinese concert tee-shirts. Nice to see some things remain the same.

Ozzy is the same too. I’ll give him credit though, he’s doing work and getting his money. Say what you will about the guy he started performing only a few years after the Beatles and the old guys is still standing.

Finally some really old frumpy lady next me me was blazing weed. Not just a joint. Or two. Or three. I am pretty sure this old broad smoked up half a kilo. Its been many years since I have partaken and frankly I have no problem with those that choose to use, but Christ, this old lady was so old and frumpy even in my mind playing out all the scenarios I had no urge to smack her on the ass with a “hey, you gonna share that thing?” which I wont lie in my younger days would have been a goto move for me.

Nah…I just couldn’t. I guess I am getting old. None the less with even a shower, I still smell like dope. All in all, some things change some things stay the same.

Let ‘er rip, War Pigs, tater chips!

A small update, some observations, an anniversary and other tidbits.

newdayAs you may all know by now from a previous post about my cousins battle with cancer, its with a heavy heart I have to report that Jess lost her long and arduous battle this past Friday.

I have been thinking about her and her story for a few days now. I was debating how to frame and relate such a story of courage and grace. The hardest part for me is the simplest. Its so cliche to say, “so and so unfortunately lost their battle with cancer.” Its a normal statement. Factually its a true statement. As many of you know me, I tend to shy away from the cliche and normal. To say my cousin lost her battle with cancer is as far as I am concerned a load of BS. Jess won her battle. I’ll tell you why.

For over seven years, from the time she was diagnosed this girl had a smile and such a positive attitude in her treatment to try and keep this disease at bay. Never a complaint. Never a bad word. Numerous surgeries, radiation, chemo treatments. After each surgery or round of treatment, this girl went back to work. Sick, feeling like crap, tired, she held her head up high, smiled and moved forward. She enjoyed life to the fullest and when faced with setbacks in her treatment, it was always a “Whats next? We move forward with positive attitude.”

I can’t tell you the amount of strength, dignity, grace and positive attitude this young lady displayed throughout this whole rotten situation.

Obviously and as most people will agree when you have a family member go through something like this you tend to think about your own mortality. You wonder what you would do. How you would react. I did. If I am honest with myself and you the reader, theres a chance I’d try and do the right thing by being positive and setting an example in my head-on treatment and fight against this insidious disease. Then theres the very possible reality that after reaching a certain point, I’d simply throw in the towel, take out every line of credit I could get my hands on, and call it a party of the century with my closest friends. Booze, hookers, drugs, bank robbery, and dynamiting the IRS. I mean really whats to lose at that point?  Ok, I wouldn’t hurt innocent people, but you get the picture.

Thats me, and how I would have handled things. My cousin Jess is a much bigger and better person that I’ll ever be. She proved and showed the rest of us, that even when we’re saddled with insurmountable odds and a losing proposition you can still live with great happiness, and dignity no matter what the obvious outcome. That is a lesson I’ll forever take with me.

Did the cancer finally get my cousin Jess? Technically, yes, but Jessica did NOT lose the battle. No way. She won. She won in such outstanding fashion that her lessons and memory will live forever with those that met and knew her. I’ll call that winning every single day.

Moving along….

This blog in its current incarnation is officially one year old. I think technically the anniversary occurred last month but as you see it now its one year old. Its about where I expected it to be and for that I am pleasantly surprised. I have been mulling some small changes and updates with layout and graphics to keep things fresh. Fundamentally things will continue as they are and we’ll see where the next year takes us. I have some ideas and experiments swirling around in my head so stay tuned.

July already. Complete years and weekends go by so fast. Yet one single Monday at work can take the life right out of us five times over. Further proof life just isn’t fair sometimes. I don’t care though. July 31st I am going to see Black Sabbath and that doesn’t suck.

Let ‘er rip tater chips.

All day long I think of things but nothing seems to satisfy

SoldsoulI need someone to show me the things in life that I can’t find
I can’t see the things that make true happiness, I must be blind
– Paranoid, Black Sabbath

Monday again. Another weekend blows by. Ever see a dead woman in a casket? Now you have. ———> We Sold Our Soul For Rock and Roll. Black Sabbath inside album cover, 1976-ish.

The last couple of years, Black Sabbath (with Ozzy, Butler, Iommi) have been rumored to be making new music and touring. When I hear these things I take it with a grain of salt. Ozzy and Sharron are pretty ruthless about contractual and legal issues in the past on any reunions, Iommi comes down with cancer, Ozzy falls off the wagon and starts popping pills and drinking, and well you get the idea.

Outside of all those things, Black Sabbath is probably the genesis and father of all things heavy metal. No one would know the name Ozzy Osbourne if there was no Black Sabbath.  Sabbath was around and making music in 1968-69.

Doing a little internet surfing this weekend I see the North American tour dates have been expanded and guess who is going to see Black Sabbath? I go into these types of concerts with an open mind and low expectations. As a music lover, I categorize these concerts in the same light as seeing The Who, Santana, Clapton/Cream, Rolling Stones, Plant/Page as last of the greatest who defined rock music with the long gone other greats. You just have to go to say you saw them. I have seen Ozzy before and even years ago they’ve had to wheel his old ass out on stage in a wheelbarrow, I think he has a f’ing cane now. None the less I’ll go and see what I can see and hear what I can hear. Paranoid, Sweet Leaf, War Pigs, Iron man, pretty much every go to guitar riff laden song a young kid learns right after Stairway to Heaven and Smoke on the Water.

One of my nieces turns two this month. My mother is trying to teach her to swim and I am teaching her to swear and spit. She is progressing along nicely.

Let ‘er rip, tater chip!

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Tennessee Stud

CashThe Tennessee Stud was long and lean
The color of the sun and his eyes were green
He had the nerve and he had the blood
There was never a horse like the Tennessee Stud – Johnny Cash

Been a long strange week and theres no better way to hold the line then with some Johnny Cash.

Some idiots decided to take out their frustrations of not making friends, money, or getting laid in this country by assembling some crude explosive devices and deploying them against innocent people in a popular foot race in Boston. Some people died, some people lost legs, some people lost their faith in the simple notion of public safety.

Then as has been proven time and again in this nations short history, when things are down we pull together and stand as one. Its a shame it takes such extreme devastation to look past religious or political differences to come together as a nation as was evidenced this past week in the subsequent killing and capture of the two suspects.

None the less we live in different times now. Its not up to our government to protect us from every idiot retard kid with a gun or extreme idealogical asshole with a pipe bomb. One needs to be vigilant and aware of their surroundings at the mall, NASCAR races, football games, or the movie theater. If somethings strange or your gut tells you somethings not right, move along or tell someone.

The kid that lost both his legs, who later in the hospital told the FBI/authorities the bomber looked him in the face, placed the backpack/bomb at his feet and then walked away only two and a half minutes later to have the bomb go off may be hailed as a hero. The fact remains, he unknowingly stood next to a goddamn bomb, after watching the bomber place the pack at his feet and did nothing. While hindsight is always 20/20 in this day and age if you’re out in highly congested areas and some jackass sets a rather large backpack on the ground and moves away in a fashion like he/she isn’t coming back you get your ass out of dodge too.

American BulldogIn other news, I adopted another dog from the local animal shelter. In keeping with my tradition of naming all my animals after characters from the movie Cool Hand Luke, say hello to Dragline.

Drag is about a three year old American Bulldog, Pit, Mastiff and anything else. About a year ago the local no kill shelter got him from the Humane Society which was going to Buddieseuthanize him the very next day. Dragline at the time was heartworm positive and not in good shape. We got him cleaned up, healthy again, and now he is thriving and in my home with my Cocker Spaniel, Lucas Jackson War Hero.

Both dogs are getting along without any overt our outward aggression. I keep my eye on them since they’re both males and when any sizing up to see who is the alpha between the two starts to take place, I get in the middle and show them that neither of them are in charge that I am their pack leader. The last few days around here have been lots of exercise, discipline and love. Rinse lather repeat. Its working.

Guns and the second amendment has been a pretty hot topic these last few months. I will admit I felt good about watching a dejected Obama cry on TV about his gun legislation not getting past the senate. As if I needed to state publicly, I am not in favor of ANY additional gun control. Not “assault” weapons bans or magazine capacity limitations. I do not support private sale background checks. If a government agent can come to my door with a thirty round magazine in an assault type weapon, as long as I am not a convicted felon I should be able to meet that force with the exact same level. Period the end. Its not about hunting, its not about need. Its about simple unalienable right!

.45 auto 1911Last week, a friend of mine whom is new to firearms and shooting wanted to go to a gun range and shoot. I offered my services since any opportunity bring someone new into shooting and firearms with some level of safety and respect is a good thing. I have plenty of guns, been shooting all my life so away we went.

We drove to a brand new indoor rage not to far from here. Plenty of staff, new accommodations and equipment. Gun rental, ammunition, eye and ear protection you know the scene.

After a short questionnaire and hold harmless releases, all new members watch a five minute range safety video. No problem I think and we head over to a small tv in the corner of the establishment.

Its a Saturday, business is good and there are plenty of people in the shop both customer and staff. My friend and I are about a minute into the safety video, the front counter is over my right shoulder behind me where business is being conducted. People buying range ammo, renting guns, having personal weapons safety checked for used on range etc.

Then it happens.

FUCKING BLAM!

In all of about 1/2 second I automatically know what the sound is without even flinching or turning my head. My lady friend who has never really shot or been around guns jumps about three feet straight up. I position myself between her and where the sound came from. I think in my head, “ok we’re at a gun range with clearly armed staff, we’re not being robbed, so the next thing is accidental discharge and I am going to look over there now and see someone bleeding out on the floor if they weren’t already dead.” Remember the elapsed time from gunshot to me making sure my friend was ok, to turning around knowing what I was going to see was all of about 1/2 to 3/4 of a second.

I look over, sure enough accidental discharge. No one is down, no one is bleeding. Good sign. Some young kid staff member had the sense to point the customers weapon into a safe direction while either clearing a jammed weapon or handed a loaded weapon from a customer. I never got the full story, but the rest of the staff didn’t beat the shit out of the customer after the fact so I suspect the staff was trying to clear a jam, which was successful albeit through the wall behind the cash register.

While the entire establishment is deathly silent and in disbelief, I rather loudly proclaim “maybe you guys (staff) need to watch this movie too.”

Everyone is ok, the staff member chokes his balls back out of his throat and excuses himself to go change his pants.

I knew this wasn’t going to be a good start to introducing my friend to the pleasures of shooting and gun ownership. However she was a trooper and continued on. Nervously.

I had my heirloom reworked 1911 .45cal that my grandfather carried in WWII and my father carried in Vietnam. I rented a nice Luger .357 roll gun for my friend as she was interested in revolvers. Now you’re probably thinking “you gave a woman new to shooting, who just stood 10 feet away from an accidental discharge a .357?”

First timersYes I did. I am of the opinion while I have her here go big now and get it over with. You know what? She shot it too and believe it or not with all things considered she did very good with it. It is in fact too much gun for her, but I reassured her this is all part of the process of finding a personal weapon. You shoot a bit of everything, but now she has pretty much as far as kick and power, shot the worst of the worst. Granted there’s the .44 mags and .50 hand cannons but we already know those will never be a part of her arsenal. We put a box through the .357 and .45 and she tries both. She’s never really been around an active busy gun range and shot at the same time, plus with being unnerved with the slight episode in the lobby, she did do well. I was proud of her. We’ll go again to the range and try other guns. She’ll get more accustomed to the sounds and smells, and she’ll one day pick a gun to call her own. All in all a successful fist trip.

Let ‘er rip, tater chips!

Renegades of Funk

sunIts been a long strange week. Strange in that I cant quite figure out what is in that air but there is some Tomfoolery about. I think. Maybe. Sort of.

Its the feels like it is the Springtime of my lovin’ the second season I am to know oh oh oh…sorry Led Zeppelin moment there. Yes its like this each spring. Most complain that the only thing Florida lacks is clear delineated seasons. Most will claim we have two seasons down here. Hot and hot/wet and for the most part that is accurate, but to me I could always tell when it was spring. Not so much weather-wise but more a state of mind.

In my case springtime is a few short weeks before summer or what we call “the rest of the year.” I always know its spring when I travel up and down the roads in the interior parts of the state. You can smell the orange blossoms from the groves. I cant explain the smell or compare it to anything other then industrial mechanics hand cleaner but in the air all around you.

As it turns out every time I have found myself either in car, truck or Harley roaring down the roads enjoying this smell and experience in the spring, I was either on my way to be with, recalling happy times of it, or imaging in my head what the next experience of “love” may be.

Why these benign thoughts and moods of love happen in spring, with orange blossom smells in the air, and me on the open road in some mechanical fashion happen I cant explain. They’re nice thoughts however and I look forward to them. Its not to say I only feel such emotion a mere three weeks each year, but its a time of year where all the planets and chi and aura and whatever other whacky things enter my house of awesome and I think specifically about love and what may be in the future and don’t particularly get nauseous or pissed about failed love of the past.

The before mentioned Tomfoolery of it all this time is that I think I am changing my thoughts on the subject of love. As we get older and have experiences in life we find out what works and what doesn’t in regards to love. For some time now I thought I knew what true love is, and generally speaking I am sure I have to common bases covered but I am beginning to rethink what it truly means. I used to look for it. I stopped. I rationalized when I looked for it all that I found was something disguised as love but not love I was willing to spend the rest of my life with. I figured the love I wanted will just happen naturally. I still believe in this notion but as I am getting older I am starting to second guess myself. Are my eyes still open? Am I paying attention? Have I drawn such an opinion and picture of love in my head  that everything right in front of me is passing by? Have I priced myself out of the market? All questions and internal dialogue on the subject of love I battle and debate. In the end I wonder if I accept this or relax my opinion on that would love come along any faster, or better?  Eventually the soundtrack of my life gets a little louder, Pearl Jam’s Black gets fast forwarded to some Zeppelin, I smell the orange blossoms in the air, and turn the throttle back on the Harley some more and for a short time again I am at ease and in love. Love with myself and happy with who I am, one day I’ll share it again with a lucky woman who thinks the same of me as I do of her.

Thank God for Orange Blossoms and Spring.

Let ‘er rip, tater chips!

White Smoke? Black Smoke? I see Purple Haze

Hear my train a comin”? -Jimi Hendrix

Jimi Hendrix’s family who now and have for the last ten or fifteen years own the rights to his music, images, property have released an album (People, Hell, & Angels) of nine or ten songs by Jimi that have never been released before. They are not all together new songs but they are versions of songs we have never heard before Mr. Hendrix recorded them in about 1969-ish.

Unless you are a Hendrix completist, don’t go buy the album as you probably wont be happy. Its bluesy and not what you think of when you imagine Hendrix’s music. If you appreciate great music and what Jimi would have done next if he had lived, then this is a good representation of what might have been.

With all these things being said, here is the amaze balls part of the story. The record is number 2 on the billboard top 200 album list. Hendrix was last on the Billboard top 200 list at number 1 with Axis Bold as Love in 1969. Dead forty-two years and some change, and still puts albums of music at the top of the sales charts. Thats nothing short of incredible that the likes of Tu-pac, or say Michael Jackson would barely be able to sniff the crusty drawers of being able to do forty-two years later.

In other news we have a new Pope. Another crusty old fuck who will maintain the closed minded dogma of denying simple birth control and that somehow homosexuals are not human and an abomination. He’s a man of the poor and has been known to walk to work. As I understand it, since his papal chimney farted out his holinesses white queef of selection, our own beloved President of he poor has been trying to bang in the numbers to phone the Pontiff’s secretary for a lunch date next week. Probably wants to talk shop I’m guessing.

Now for the sad news.

TickleMugShot

How in the fuck are you going to arrest my man Tickle? Charge? Drunk in public. Drunk in public at a Goddamn shop and stop type convenience store no less. Look at the guys job! Be on TV drunk. Be on TV drunk, and make illegal moonshine no less. What kind of ball-less bastard of a cop would haul in Tickle on a drunk in public charge? He wasn’t driving. So what, he had a few drinks and was trying to pick up some quality ass at his local Step Saver by laying down his line, “hey I am Tickle from Moonshiners. Want to know why they call me Tickle…..Burp?”

The world is going to hell. What color smoke from the papal chimney is the color for, “You’re all fucked, I am out of here on the Jesus jet, good luck heathens?”

Let ‘er rip, tater chips!

I am going to get my kicks

JimShocker….before this whole shithouse goes up in flames.

I think Jim Morrison said that once. Or maybe it was Oliver Stone who pretended Jim said it once in one of his movies. Either way its a pretty good quote and if nothing else a decent philosophy to try and live by.

A lot of people regard Morrison and his band The Doors as epically defining the 1960’s counter culture and the Rock and Roll music scene. There is no doubt The Door’s shaped a lot of what was to come. Personally I don’t think he was a musical genius as say McCartney and Lennon. Jim certainly had lyrical chops but again I suspect that was a result of his affinity for poetry and literature. Peyote and acid probably helped a great deal too.

One thing I find about some music is that I associate certain music with physical places. This isnt true for all music. In the case of The Doors when I hear any of it, whether its studio recorded albums or concert bootlegs I say, think and feel like California. In my mind The Doors are California. Doesn’t matter what song either. When I hear The Door’s I imagine and think about California period. I get the same exact feeling about the Smashing Pumpkins and Chicago. Lynyrd Skynyrd and thats North Florida all day long no matter how many times I imagine Forrest Gump running his ass across Alabama.

I have been to these places, met the people, ate the food and drank the drinks. This music reminds me of these places no two ways about it.

When I hear Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, I don’t think of Seattle. I Don’t think of London or Britain when I hear The Who or Rolling Stones. The Beatles however makes me think of Britain up until Sgt. Peppers. After this point all I can think about is Charles Manson,dirty hippies and death. It’s still good music and I enjoy it, but in my sometimes rather twisted brain it can evoke strange images and feelings. I guess thats how you know music is good.

LizardKingAll this being said, you can imagine the dichotomy of visiting Morrison’s grave in Paris, France. I have been to Paris three separate times in my life. Paris to me has nothing to do with great music, especially Jim Morrison and The Doors. To me Paris is great food, great visual art, but music? Just does’t hit me. Jim Morison died and is buried there though and people check out his grave as if its a national monument. I did once. Its weird being there. It has no feeling of music, or The Doors, or California. It’s just “Jim” if I had to put a label on the experience.

In any event, to try and sum this rather meandering and pointless post up, music has the power to take you places. The problem is not much of todays new “music” achieves this goal. In fact it falls short of taking my mind anywhere other then wanting to jam pencils in my ears. Where did the good music go? There’s a few groups out there trying and still holding true, but what is happening with the brand new music?

When the internet opened up instantaneous communications and people of all ages and background can upload a video from their phone to YouTube, we should be inundated with incredibly gifted musicians making incredible music right now. Where are they?

Is the best we can hope for and muster up, some ding bat Korean chink pseudo fucking his horse to a catchy beat to take over the musical world?

Where is the next Misty Mountain Hop? The next Yellow Ledbetter? Christ, I would settle for the next Jack and Diane or Pink Houses right about now. Where are they? In this day and age of self promotion, YouTube, iTunes, and 24X7 continuously connected world where are the next Led Zeppelin or AC/DC? We don’t need Sony or BMG or any of the other dinosaur music industry to find this new music and give it to us.

There is something better then some country pop chick who cant keep a man or some Disney child star lip syncing some auto tuned garbage. There has to be I just know it.

Until that time, I’ll keep my eyes on the road and my hands down my pants or upon the wheel.

Let ‘er rip tater chips!

Hey Joe, where you going with that gun in your hand?

OverthelineIts another TGIF around the Whats Up Brock empire and I for one am glad. I can’t quite put my finger on it but its been a long week.

Between the Honda Classic with Tiger Woods just down the road and a couple of cops getting shot yesterday morning the local news has been jam packed full of insanity. Insanity  that news folks and those that produce news television are complete morons. Sadly the crap they show us on the news is a direct reflection of society as a whole. They show us what we (collectively) want to see and hear about. This saddens me, because it becomes clearer to me each day that I am literally surround by idiots.

News folks love selling misery, perceived imminent weather death, and hero worship.

I live in a tropical hurricane zone. I know this. Its averaged 77 degrees this winter, I put up with the possibility of hurricanes. I don’t need 24X7 coverage every time a fart in a whirlwind spawns off the coast of ass-crack Africa. Let NOAA give me 48 hours notice before landfall and I am good.

A cop was shot and killed yesterday during a routine traffic stop. No rhyme, no reason, just a shitty thing. A shitty thing to die, but for Christ sake, it was a cop. Its part of his job. If you want to be a cop, and you follow around a known scumbag who has been in trouble, before, you ran his tags and know its him, then you wait for him to coast through a stop sign and pull him over, then guess what? Be ready for the unknown. In this case getting your ass shot the hell up by a lowlife piece of shit. Its part of the job and you accept that and if you don’t then find a new line of work. I feel bad for the cops family honest, but I dont need 48 hours of local news idiots pre-empting my Ellen Show to sit and pontificate why a drug dealing scumbag shot and killed a sheriff deputy for pulling him over. Its life, it sucks sometimes, move along nothing to see here.

I am all for local events and sporting activity. Anything that helps the local economy is ok and good in my book. The last fifteen or so years PGA national has been putting on the Honda Classic golf tournament. Last year El Tigre’ or Tiger “the meatshank” Woods has been playing in the tournament. Yes I understand he’s awesome and the crowds he draws I think are great. However for the last thirteen years the news could hardly give two shits about the Honda Classic and it was barely a thirty second blurb on the 11:00pm newscast. Now with Tiger playing, all the local news is camped out at the tournament. Tiger this, Tiger that, I wonder if Tiger will get caught banging Lindsey Vonn behind the Titleist bus in a full leg cast? The news doesn’t give half a shit about Tiger. The news are a bunch of vultures waiting to catch the guy bust a nut in some other whore, then judge the guy for falling from grace as the golf hero everyone loves and looks up to. The news and media made the guy the hero, but the reality is he’s just a damn great golfer who likes to get laid and hit some strange. Really who’s dreams are crushed here? It certainly isn’t Tigers. He’s living true to himself. Its the media who put the guy up on a pedestal and made him holier then thou and when they find out he isn’t the almighty world saving golf hero they wanted him to be, they chase and camp out faking interest in his golf waiting for him to be  a normal  asshole again.

As much as I rail against the news idiots for showing this shit and behaving the way they do, I have to sit and remind myself, they are only giving us shit because we demand to see the shit. Its ratings and they know we watch the cockamamie garbage they put out. They give us exactly what we want to see. I dont want to see it per-se but it saddens me that enough of my idiot neighbors and countrymen want to see it because it proves we’re doomed.

The only thing, and I mean only thing the news stations do right is the weather. No they have no more weather expertise then looking at doppler radar, seeing no rain, and then broadcasting “slim chance of rain today”. Any one of us could do the exact same thing. Where the news station does this right in my book, is very simple. They get a mid to late twenty something blond hottie with great tits and legs to tell me what I already know. I haven’t yet watched a news weather broadcast from my local NBC station where I have actually listened to the young lady (Kait Parker, Kait Parker I love you Kait Parker) and heard a damn thing she was saying about the weather. No sir. I look at the lovely Ms. Parker and dream about what her cute skirt would do in a hurricane, a light mist on her long bare legs, the tank top under her casual Friday business coat that not buttoned getting wet, the ever just barely pronounced nipple staining against the taut fabric….and my mind thinking, such a beautiful woman, shame she is brainwashed into thinking what she is doing right this second a semi-trianed chimp couldn’t also do.

So yeah, its a TGIF today for sure. I predict its going to be sunny with a chance of showers with a cool front then it will get warm again. And rain again, and …..

Let ‘er rip tater chips!

Here Comes the Sequestration

beatles Here comes the Sequestration,
here comes the Sequestration,
And I say it’s all right

Little darling, it’s been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it’s been here

Get ready its coming and frankly I am all for it. Let the cuts begin and pieces fall where they may. If the current administration refuses to make any sort of a budget and live by it then guess what? Obama knew sequestration was coming and did squat about it. Blame the republicans and blame the democrats if it makes you feel better. The real failure is lack of leadership that starts and ends in the white house. End of discussion.

Remember my screaming goats? Yep, viral. Viral in the best way. Take a look see.

Taylor take it the goat way too.

Goat pisses on dead crackheads grave in epic form.

Goat doesn’t spare the musical abortion of Bieber either.

Thats about it kids. Enjoy your hump day and remember the dude and the goat abides, man!

Let ‘er rip, tater chip!