Oh, Leave The Old Fart Alone Already!

Joe Hardy turned 84 earlier this month. The Joe Hardy from 84 Lumber, not the Joe Hardy from the Hardy Boys books. Although how cool must it be to share a name with a fictional character that was played by Shaun Cassidy on TV?

(Okay, I can't resist. Click here to see ol' Shaun with a suspicious bulge in his funny white pants while he sings to us about rock'n'roll.)

Since Mr. 84 Lumber only turns 84 once, his family threw him a big shin-dig. Bette Midler was there, and Robin Williams. And Troy Polamalu. How could you not want this guy at your birthday bash?



(Posting Shaun Cassidy videos and pictures of Troy Polamalu does NOT mean I am gay, god damn it.)

Ahem.

Now, Joe Hardy is catching some flack from the usual suspects. 84 Lumber had a tiny number of lay-offs in December, so the family shouldn't have thrown ol' Joe a party, blah blah blah.

--84 Lumber Co., dealing with a slowdown in the overall housing market, laid off 25 to 30 people at its Washington County corporate headquarters last month.

Then last weekend, the family of 84 Lumber founder Joe Hardy threw a lavish 84th birthday party in which the patriarch was entertained by Bette Midler, Robin Williams and Christina Aguilera.

Despite the timing, the two events are not related, said company spokesman Jeff Nobers, who noted that news coverage of the party also brought out those still upset with the company for canceling its sponsorship of a high-profile pro golf tournament last year.--

Sigh. You just can't please some people. Joe Hardy has done a ton of good for a seriously jerk-water part of western Pennsylvania. He employs several hundred in an economically depressed area, and thousands nation-wide.

But all that isn't good enough, because he laid off a couple dozen people, then his family threw him a fancy party a few weeks later.

Okay, first of all, 84 Lumber didn't pay for this party. His wife and kids did. And even if 84 Lumber HAD paid for the party, that's their business. The company is are privately owned by the Hardy family, so there are no share-holders to answer to.

(Why he has anything to do with his kids, after they tried to have him declared mentally incompetent and thrown in the boobie hatch when he took a second wife, is a mystery to me. But obviously they have mended fences, and I'm not one to judge. Although I still wouldn't turn my back on 'em while you're out deer hunting, dude.)

So, yeah. Leave the geezer alone. Mr. 84 turned 84, and has the hangover to show for it. Old people are cool, especially old people like him. Party on, Joe.

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Katrina, You Bitch!

Oh, that Katrina. She will never be done messing with people.

Just ask Michael Brown, who is STILL trying to cover his ass about the many ways he screwed the pooch as FEMA director during the hurricane.

--Party politics played a role in decisions over whether to take federal control of Louisiana and other areas affected by Hurricane Katrina, former FEMA director Michael Brown said Friday.

Some in the White House suggested only Louisiana should be federalized because it was run by a Democrat, Gov. Kathleen Blanco, Brown told a group of graduate students at a lecture on politics and emergency management at Metropolitan College of New York.

Brown said he had recommended to President Bush that all 90,000 square miles along the Gulf Coast affected by the hurricane be federalized, making the federal government in charge of all agencies responding to the disaster.--

That would be, ya know, kinda sad except for one thing. Louisiana DID fuck up in their response to Katrina, and the other affected states, Mississippi in particular, didn't.

Bear in mind that Katrina actually made land-fall in Mississippi, not Louisiana. (Let me take this opportunity to point out that my big-titted secretary gets a strangely aroused smile on her face every time she types "Mississippi." Is there something erotic about the word that I don't know about?)

Anyway, all love juices aside, Mississippi bore the brunt of the full force of the hurricane. New Orleans only got all fucked up because the levees failed. Meaning, they could have evacuated everyone, and let the fuckin' place flood. No one had to die.

But, due to a variety of factors, like the mayor being an incompetent boob, and the negroes resisting the evacuation process, a lot of folks ended up stranded. It was a wholly preventable outcome, and Governor Blanco played a part in it by not laying down the law to everyone involved in the effort to get folks the fuck outta Dodge.

Did she let everything get caddy-whumpus because she's a democrat? I kinda doubt it. But it IS rather interesting that the republican Governors had a clue, and poor Ms. Blanco didn't.

(Does anyone else see the name "Blanco" and start jiving on that Una Paloma Blanco song, or is it just me?)

In other Katrina news, there was an idiot on Trading Spouses last week who said the hurricane was "a weapon of mass destruction that George W. Bush unleashed on the black people of New Orleans." The guy's name is Jameel Malone, but he calls himself Abasi Baruti. I think both names are goofy, so let's just call him Race Master Baiter, or RMB for short.

When I heard RMB's comments, I was struck by the thought that, for somebody that is supposedly the dumbest man alive, the President sure is a clever guy. I mean, shit. He can control the weather. You can't be a total doorknob and conjure up a hurricane. It just isn't possible.

RMB is a bitter, angry man, and a black separatist. But one thing he's not is a resident of any of the states where Katrina hit. Rather, he lives in St. Petersburg, Florida. So realistically, he has no more insight into that weapon of mass destruction that Dubya unleashed than any of the rest of us. All he knows is what he saw on the news.

Not to say Master Baiter or others like him don't have a right to an opinion. They do. Uninformed opinions are the American way. But it must be difficult, carrying around all that unfounded bitterness. Might even make a person act a little crazy.

Which is indeed what Jameel will be remembered for, if in fact he is remembered at all.

Something has always puzzled me about all the hand-wringing about the levees breaking, and how they weren't up to snuff because the government didn't care because New Orleans is mostly black. I have trouble understanding how you humans didn't realize that a breach of the levees sooner or later was a foregone conclusion.

I say this because Mother Nature can be deferred, but in the end she will not be denied.

Only hubris of the highest order (you love it when I talk all intellectual, don't you?) would make your species believe it can build walls thick and high enough to keep the water out, or structures strong enough to withstand any earthquake. And only you are vain enough to think that you can keep my forest from burning to the ground by never letting it burn at all.

We animals understand certain realities that you humans refuse to accept. That is why you will not do the right thing, and give New Orleans back to the sea. You will spend billions and billions AND BILLIONS of dollars, and in the end, the reality that it's fucking stupid to have a city below sea level will come crashing home to you (again), like the pounding waters of a hurricane.

Then again, maybe that's a good thing. Where I'm from, all those dead dumb-asses floating out to sea clutching their big-screen TVs is called "thinning the herd."

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The Teen Scene

Today, it's all about the teenagers. Well, and one story about some former teen sensations. (Heh. I said "teen sensations.")

First up, we've got a teen cancer kid who was targeted for theft because he's a cancer kid.

--Thieves in Vermont targeted the home of a young cancer patient while he was undergoing treatment in Boston.--

Mom? Dad? Don't turn Cancer Kid into a media spectacle. Bragging to the world about all the cool swag he's gotten, then publicizing when he's going to be out of town for his next grueling treatment, is just asking for trouble.

We live in a world where nubile gold-diggers troll funerals looking for widowers that they can fuck over... er, I mean, comfort. Use some fucking common sense.

Next, we have a naked shotgun-weilding teenager stealing a truck.

A Strongsville teen who ran around his neighborhood naked, carrying a double-barreled shotgun faces aggravated robbery charges.

Police said the 19-year-old approached telephone workers and then stole their truck.

No one was hurt.

Police are also considering other charges.--

What other charges? Criminal stupidity?

And they say children are the future. Pretty bleak looking future there in Armpit, Ohio, if you ask me.

On to the sad story of the financial woes of the music promoter who brought us 'N Sync, one of the most successful boy bands ever. (That is, if you define success as making teen girls moist, and parting them from their money, a perfectly reasonable definition in my opinion.)

I guess I never "get" stories like this. You've got a stable of singing young men, who sell a gazillion CDs. They have the teen girls crying for them, and the teen boys moussing their hair and shopping at the GAP in order to look like them.

And yet somehow the dude promoting them ends up broke? How exactly does that happen, especially to a dude named Pearlman, who almost HAS to be of hebrew extraction?

Moose no understand.

And then there's the teens who were mistakenly informed that they'd been accepted by the University of North Carolina.

--An admissions department e-mail sent from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill congratulated 2,700 prospective freshmen this week on their acceptance to the school.

The problem is that none of the applicants have been admitted. They won't start finding out until March whether they've made the cut.--

Ouch. Just OUCH! Poor kids.

The milk of kindness is normally absent from my veins, but the thought of some high school senior, under stress, pimple cream smeared abundantly on his face, running around screaming, "I got in! I GOT IN!!!" when in fact he hadn't makes me almost weepy.

Fire the secretary responsible for THAT cluster-fuck right now.

And lastly, we have the "No SHIT?!?!" story of the day.Teen drivers suck.

--More teenagers are heeding warnings about drinking and driving, but they routinely face behind-the-wheel distractions from cell phones to passengers that contribute to thousands of fatal crashes every year, according to a study released Thursday.

Teens often take the wheel amid commotion, angst or fatigue that would be challenging even for older drivers, said Dr. Flaura Winston, chief investigator for the study.--

Huh. Well, I guess we gotta let the irresponsible little fuckers drive, and maim innocent third parties as a result. But this goes back to my "Where are the parents?" mantra. All Mom & Dad should need to do is say, "If I ever find out you were driving while talking on a cell phone, I will put your eyes out with an ice pick, and you will never drive again."

Good sense and tough love, people. That's all it takes to get those intransigent know-it-all teen-aged fuckers to adulthood without any calamity.

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Free Speech Isn't Free

Matter of fact, it costs a fucking bundle. Airing commercials in prime time is expensive.

It's also illegal in some cases.

McCain-Feingold campaign finance reform stipulated that "issue ads" - those TV spots that don't mention a candidate, but you just KNOW who they're aimed at anyway because they're about abortion or guns or wetbacks - can't be aired 60 days before a general election or 30 days before a primary.

As is the American way, somebody sued, saying their free speech was being violated like a prom queen after the chloroform. And ya know, I'm not a lawyer, and a don't play one on TV, but that sounds right to me. The government shouldn't be able to tell media outlets what advertising they can and cannot accept.

The case wended its way through the courts, and now the Supremes are going to hear it.

--Jumping into a heated free-speech dispute a year before the presidential primaries, the Supreme Court on Friday accepted a pair of appeals over a sweeping campaign-finance reform law that limits "issue ads."

Oral arguments in the cases will be held in late April, with a ruling expected by late June -- six months before the 2008 election officially kicks off with primaries and caucuses in such states as Iowa, New Hampshire and Nevada.

The question for the high court is whether issue ads aired mainly on television -- and funded by businesses, labor unions, and other groups -- can be banned 60 days before a general election, and 30 days before a primary.--

All I can say is, this oughta be interesting. I never quite got how y'all went from "Congress shall make no law abridging the freedom of speech" to "Your right to free speech goes up in smoke a month or two before the election."

Keep me posted. Seriously. This moose is fascinated by something besides his penis for a change, and that's rare enough to be noteworthy.

Also in the linked article:

--In a separate case, the justices will hear oral arguments in an appeal by a staffer to Sen. Mark Dayton, D-Minnesota. At issue was whether the staffer had the legal right to sue his boss over personnel policy. Federal law generally protects federal officeholders from individual lawsuits over their official duties.--

Um, okay. Let me see if I've got this straight. The guys who make the laws about employment situations can't be sued if they don't follow those laws?

That's, like, one of the fucking stupidest thing I've ever heard. It's time for the lunatics to give control of the asylum back to the sane people.

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He Was Drunk The Day His Mom Got Out Of Prison...

This story has it all. NASCAR, country music, a sick mama, prison, the South, Wal-Mart, and stolen trucks and buses.

Oh, and the guy's name is Christopher Daniel Gay. Is it just me, or is that... kinda gay?

There's nothing particularly important or ground-breaking about this story. I just wanted to share it because it's almost like NASCAR fans TRY to make the world think they are backwards retarded dorks.

Oh, and this quote is the highlight of the story:

--"What he done was wrong, but he knows his mama don't have long," his mother, Anna Shull, told The Tennessean this week. Efforts to contact Gay's family were unsuccessful Friday.--

Okay, sing it with me...

What he done was wrong
But mama didn't have long
And then there was his dong
Tired of prison songs...

Yeah, that was bad. But it made me laugh, so leave the moose alone, will ya?

Do you suppose the rest of the country would stop thinking southerners were a bunch of in-bred hick morons if they stopped acting that way?

Still, stealing a truck filled with $300,000 worth of Wal-Mart swag is kinda cool. Let's go joy-riding when you get out of the big house, Chrissy Dan Gay.

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What Exactly Does Affirmative Action Affirm?

The New York Slimes... er, Times, that bastion of incoherent ramblings disguised as news, is bemoaning the fall-out from several states banning racial preferences in college admissions to their public universities. Go here to gaze at your navel.

--With Michigan’s new ban on affirmative action going into effect, and similar ballot initiatives looming in other states, many public universities are scrambling to find race-blind ways to attract more blacks and Hispanics.

At Wayne State University Law School in Detroit, a new admissions policy, without mentioning race, allows officials to consider factors like living on an Indian reservation or in mostly black Detroit, or overcoming discrimination or prejudice.

Others are using many different approaches, like working with mostly minority high schools, using minority students as recruiters, and offering summer prep programs for promising students from struggling high schools. Ohio State University, for example, has started a magnet high school with a focus on math and science, to help prepare potential applicants, and sends educators into poor and low-performing middle and elementary schools to encourage children, and their parents, to start planning for college.

Officials across the country have a sense of urgency about the issue in part because Ward Connerly, the black California businessman behind such initiatives in California and Michigan, is planning a kind of Super Tuesday next fall, with ballot initiatives against racial preferences in several states. He is researching possible campaigns in Arizona, Colorado, Missouri, Nebraska, Nevada, Oregon, South Dakota, Utah and Wyoming, and expects to announce next month which states he has chosen.--

You humans confuse the shit outta me. You say society should try to be color-blind, then you pick and choose wo to admit to your public universities based on the amount of melanin they have in their skin.

Weird, weird, weird.

But, I'll play along. There's obviously some true believers out there who think it's a good idea to value "diversity" over academics or other criteria, so let's talk about that for a minute.

First off, I need someone to explain to me why asians, in spite of their funny-colored skin and funny-shaped eyes, don't appear to need special treatment. They seem to manage to get into good colleges just fine, even when their families haven't been here long at all.

I don't suppose that's because asian families value - and demand - good grades from their kids in school or anything, right?

Anyhow, here we have colleges that are partially government-funded bemoaning the fact that they can't discriminate based on skin color anymore, and trying to find clever ways to go back to business as usual. Because, ya know, diversity is good.

Okay. Why is it good? Who does it benefit? Will a white college kid do better out in the cold, cruel world because he sat next to a black kid that was dumber than him rather than an asian kid who was smarter than him?

Nope, didn't think so.

Back to the question... What does affirmative action affirm? That a level playing field is bad, and preferential treatment is good? That skin color is more important than grades and SAT scores? That it doesn't matter if minorities flunk out in droves as long as y'all gave them a chance to attend an elite school?

Oh, and hey, do-gooders. Don't be surprised when a certain segment of the population declares that it affirms that blacks and hispanics just don't/can't measure up.

My free moose advice for the day is, fix your fucked-up public school system, and you'll have plenty of qualified minorities ready and able to enroll in your colleges. But you won't be able to fix your K-12 schools until you admit that they are broken, and why they are broken.

Hint: It's not a lack of money, but rather the totally retarded way that money is spent.

I'm going to whisper a phrase here, and I know it will cause all the misguided do-gooders to fall into a dead faint. But listen carefully anyway, because my penis tells me it's the right answer.

You ready?

School choice.

Eh, I knew it. I heard the thud of dropping bodies from here.

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PETA = Pecker-heads Euthanizing Terrific Animals

Who could be against "the ethical treatment of animals"?

I reckon it depends on your definition of ethical. For the PETA folks, that means taking perfectly healthy, adoptable animals from shelters and killing them.

Obviously, animal issues are a big deal for a moose like me. I get that people are going to kill us. I just don't like the idea of my brethren being cancelled just to hang a head on a wall. If you're gonna dispatch us to the great forest in the sky, at least eat the freakin' meat.

(No, not THAT meat, you fucking perverts.)

But wild animals and domesticated animals are, well, two entirely different animals. Puppies and kitties and those kinds of critters - they depend on people doing the right thing by them. They were domesticated for a reason: Mutual benefit. Both the four-legged and two-legged parties get something out of the relationship.

PETA, though, is opposed to animals being kept as pets. They think any such relationship between people and animals is harmful to the animals.

Can I get a hearty ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MINDS?!?!

Fast forward to the ongoing animal cruelty trial involving two PETA members. Day-by-day recaps of the legal fisticuffs can be found here. Don't read unless you have a strong stomach, though.

The whole thing is sort of baffling. But from what I can tell, PETA takes healthy, perfectly adoptable animals from shelters and animal hospitals, and kills them.

No, I'm not kidding. The PETA freaks kill more than 90% of the animals that they purport to be taking in for the purpose of finding them homes.

Their rationale appears to be that any animal who has lived as the pet/companion/whatever of a human being is spiritually damaged beyond repair. PETA believes that these sweet, cute, cuddly little fur-babies are better off dead than living with a broken, crushed spirit.

Say it with me. HUH?!?!?!

My people have lots of animals. They all seem really happy, a lot happier than they would be if they had to forage for their own dinners. Fuck, I don't think they COULD forage for their own dinners.

And that's kinda the point. Everybody gets into relationships that are mutually beneficial, whether with members of their own species, or a different one.

For example, dogs trade the freedom to eat the squalling human baby for dinner, in exchange for kibble, a warm place by the fire, and the obligation to bark when someone is breaking in.

Doesn't sound like such a bad deal to me. And it doesn't sound much different than many of the other deals that you humans set up amongst yourselves.

Most of all, I don't see how the PETA folks can say that the relationship isn't ethical, and that the dog is better off dead. I have a hunch that if you asked Fido, he'd say, "Ethical shmethical. I like my human, and I'd rather be with him than pushing up daisies or hunting wabbits. Is it time for supper yet?"

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BRATS!

Here's the story of a three year old and her parent, who got their ass booted off a plane because Mommy & Daddy couldn't get their little angel to sit in her seat, and fasten her seatbelt.

--Flight attendants often deal with obnoxious passengers who won't listen to instructions by kicking them off the plane. But a Massachusetts couple think AirTran Airways went overboard by treating their crying 3-year-old daughter in much the same way.

Julie and Gerry Kulesza and daughter Elly were removed from the flight when the girl refused to take her seat before takeoff, airline officials said Tuesday. But her parents said they just needed a little more time to calm her down.

AirTran officials say they were only following Federal Aviation Administration rules that children age 2 and above must have their own seat and be wearing a seatbelt upon takeoff.

``The flight was already delayed 15 minutes and in fairness to the other 112 passengers on the plane, the crew made an operational decision to remove the family,'' Graham-Weaver said.

But Julie Kulesza said: ``We weren't given an opportunity to hold her, console her or anything.''--

Ohferfuck'ssake. You had fifteen minutes plus to "hold and console" the little semen demon and get her into her seat. How the hell much more time do you need?

But no. Even after receiving a refund sor their tickets, and freebie tickets to be used later, the Kuleszkas declare that is simply not enough, and they have vowed to never fly AirTran again.

That roaring noise you hear is the employees and customers of the airline celebrating.

The parents and their Spawn of Satan have been doing interviews, and making the rounds of the talk shows, showing off their "well-behaved" daughter. Wonder how many hits of cough syrup they had to give the kid to pull THAT miracle off?

But this story really isn't about Snotley and her clueless parents. It's about the hundreds of people who made reader comments at the end of the Sun-Sentinel's story. The comments are running about twenty to one against the dumb-fuck breeders.

I'm not sure why that surprises me, but it does. I've been wondering for a while why you humans let your children behave like tasmanian devils coked to the eyeballs, and yet, it appears it bothers the people who make their kiddies behave as much as it bothers me.

I just can't picture how two adults think it's better to delay a plane-load of people than to wrestle their unruly child into her seat no matter how loudly she screams. It gives me hope to know I'm not the only one who feels that way.

In the animal kingdom, if a little one misbehaves, it is gently corrected. If that doesn't work, stronger measures are used. In the end, the youngsters are not allowed to ruin things for everyone else.

The reader comments to the article tell me that the majority of you humans feel that way too. That you appreciate that you can't reason with a three year old, and sometimes you've just gotta get physical, has made my moose-day.

So let's join hand-in-hoof and stand up for not letting the BRATS! rule the world!

Oh, and can someone explain to me why anyone would even WANT to take a little kid on a plane unless it was an emergency? It's kinda like taking them to nice restaurants. You have to work up to the "civilized human being" stage before you unleash them on the world.

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The Unabomber Is Pissed

Ted Kaczynski was/is a prolific writer. Now, 40,000 pages of his insane ramblings are to be auctioned off, along with other personal possessions, and the money given to his victims. He has sued to block the sale.

This moose's knee-jerk reaction was, "Cool. That shit ought to fetch a lot of money, and there's nothing wrong with trying to compensate people for their suffering."

Then I stroked my massive dong for a few minutes, and pondered further. And I decided it's not such a hot idea after all.

I mean certainly, the Unabomber shouldn't get to profit from his crimes by selling the writings and other items and pocketing the money himself. But that wasn't ever a solution that was under consideration.

So hey, sell the shit and give the money to the victims. Why not?

Um, mostly because, think about the creepy fuckers who would want to own a piece of Ted Kaczynski memorabilia. He's a cult hero amongst anarchist nut-jobs. They wouldn't be buying the items for a glimpse into the mind of a madman, but rather in celebration of his twisted genius.

Personally, I don't see anything wrong with it, any more than I see anything wrong with the sale and collecting of Nazi memoribilia. I might feel differently, however, if one of my people had been a victim of the Unabomber. I'd feel like I wouldn't want a bunch of gloomy-looking anxious anarchists tossing off while reading the seventeenth draft of Ted Kaczynski's manifesto.

But hey, maybe that's just me.

A side issue is that I'm not sure it's right to sell a man's personal correspondence, no matter what he's done. The letters you exchange with your family and friends ought not to be made public until all parties involved are dead, unless said parties unanimously consent to it.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure the law doesn't see it my way. But selling private letters for everyone to read and gawk at is just... unseemly.

Problem is, if the items aren't sold, they will revert back to Mr. Kaczynski, ostensibly a bad thing. Other options that have been suggested are that everything be destroyed, or sealed for a hundred years and then turned over to seeeeeeerious scholars.

Well, sorry, but no mater what you think about ol' Teddy, shit-canning his work is the wrong way to go. Besides the fact that his diatribes are legitimate fodder for study, if you REEEEEALLY want the odd lots and broken sizes to go all ga-ga for him, start a fuckin' huge bonfire using his work, and watch what happens.

"See? SEE?!?!" they will yell. "He was so important that THE GOVERNMENT SILENCED HIM!"

*cue ominous music*

Duh da duh dunnnnnnn...

There is another option, one that seems to be unpopular mostly because the 'Bomber himself suggested it. If the writings and other items revert to him, he cannot sell them. So he proposes to donate the manuscripts, diaries, and other rantings and ravings, to a library, perhaps the one that already has a collection of his work.

It really is a good solution, as it keeps the whackos at bay, doesn't give the Unabomber any any PR, protects the privacy of his family, and allows for study of what went into making him tick.

Ah, yes. It's a good idea. Therefore there is no way in hell it will ever be implemented.

(I like the word "implement." Do you like the word "implement"?)

Anyway, check back in two years, and I'm sure all this will be settled. Meanwhile, I'm going to go back to pondering while I palpate my penis.

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Monday Musings

Lots of ground to cover today...

Let's start with the twenty-nine year old who was pretending to be twelve.

This whole situation is fucked up on about a dozen levels. First of all, the guy, Neil Havens Rodreick II, doesn't look twelve. Even being EXTREMELY generous, he looks like he's in his late teens.

Now I realize that the idea of people in their twenties and thirties playing high school students on TV was popularized by 90210, but come ON. There has to be a limit somewhere. Even Dylan McKay wasn't stupid enough to still be in the seventh grade when he was 29.

Not to mention, the pedo-pervs he was living with Lonnie Stiffler and Robert James Snow, were 61 and 49 years old respectively. That's kinda robbing the cradle even if he copped to his real age. But they believed he was twelve, which, if he had been, would have been a pretty icky case of child molestation.

Those dudes seriously need to market the beer goggles that let then delude themselves into thinking that ol' Neil was twelve. For they are the BEST BEER GOGGLES EVER!!!

The ickiest thing of all about the case, however, is that these twisted geezers were UPSET when they found out the twelve year old they'd been tag-teaming was 29. Uh, guys? If he had actually been twelve, you wouldn't have gotten out of prison until he was 112. Count your blessings.

God DAMN people are strange.

In other legal news, O.J. is pissing people off again. A judge has told him in a stern voice to stop spending so fucking much money.

Of course he won't comply, and Fred Goldman will never ever get the money awarded to him for The Juice whacking his son.

OJ, Dude, I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Don't antagonize that Goldman fellow, or he WILL scrag your murdering ass. But hey, maybe that's what you want.

Next, we have two announcements of Presidential candidacy: Sam Brownback and Hillary Clinton.

Or in other words, a "Who?" and a Hillary. I'm wondering how many more "Who?"s are going to announce their candidacy in the coming months. And sure, we knew Hillary was going to run. This just makes it official. The only reason I mention it is, it brings two thoughts to mind:

A picture paints a thousand words, and sometimes a little nudge is all it takes to change history.



On to two very different killers, with two very different outcomes. Our first criminal, Nathaniel Abraham, committed murder in cold blood at age eleven. He is now twenty-one, and is a free man. Our second case involves a beautician, Martha Mata Vasquez, who injected corn oil into a woman's buttocks as a beauty treatment. The woman died, and the beautician is being sent up for fifteen years.

Can I get a hearty "What in the FUCK?!?!"? A misguided beautician is going to serve half again as much time as someone who did the premeditated murder thing? Okay, that's just wrong. I get that the poor, misunderstood killer in the first case was only eleven when he shotgunned some poor bastard to death. But I REALLY think it takes more than ten years to "fix" a kid that fucked up.

Any bets as to how long it'll be before Nathaniel Abraham is behind bars again?

And finally, in two completely unrelated stories, we have a true football fan in Chicago, and a village for homeless people in Florida.

--Chicago school teacher Colleen Pavelka knows how much her husband loves the Bears. Apparently, she loves him even more.

Colleen chose to have the birth of their second child induced a few days early so Mark Pavelka could attend Sunday's NFC Championship showdown between the Bears and the New Orleans Saints.--

Uh, okay. Seems like kind of a frivolous reason to pull the bun out of the oven early. But what do I know? Maybe it's totally okay to start a natural process in an unnatural way so your old man can go see Da Bears play.

At least the kid's okay, and the Bears won the game. Otherwise, I'm sure they'd both feel quite silly.

And,

--A controversial proposal in Daytona Beach, Fla., would create a special village to house hundreds of the county's homeless people, Local 6 News has learned.

Volusia County Council members are expected to consider a plan to build the Tiger Bay Village and treatment facility for the area's 2,500 homeless community.--

There those Florida folks go, surprising me again. First I learned that they have trailer parks in Palm Beach, and now you tell me they have homeless people in Daytona Beach.

Don't people like that know that low-lifes and swanky Florida coastal towns DO NOT MIX?

Seriously, though, I don't really see a problem with building a facility to house the homeless folks. It's better than tripping over them while they sleep on the streets in a puddle of their own piss.

I'm not totally convinced that all the homeless people will go for it, though. They have been known to be hostile to the idea of being rounded up and sent to warm, clean places where they can get three squares a day, and treatment for their "issues."

No, I don't get it either. There must be some allure to sleeping outside in a puddle of piss that I'm just not aware of.

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Oh! The BJ! The BJ! It Felt So Good!

I went. I saw. I came. In my pants.

I used to think that an orgasm was the best feeling in the world. The build-up, the pulsing, the...

Er, too much information, right?

And it doesn't matter anyway, because I have discovered that an orgasm is NOT the best feeling in the world. The best feeling in the world is the tingling in the loins that results from attending the Barrett-Jackson auction.

Ah, the BJ. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

The sheer... extravagence of it is a good place to start. Maybe that's the wrong word, but what I mean is, the monster sums of money being thrown around gave me a chubby that just wouldn't quit. There's people in the world that drive Ford Escorts. And then there's the cool people, who fling money at cool cars with wanton abandon.

I want to be one of the second group. (And I want some wontons, but that's a whole 'nother story.)

They say the rich are different, but I didn't see it. They looked just like you and me. Well, like you anyway. I appeared to be the only one there with brown fur and big antlers.

Point is, they came in all shapes, sizes, ages, and colors. It was a great place to people-watch.

I especially liked watching the bleached blondes with the big honkin' silicone bazookas. I knew they weren't just pretty faces. It takes an acute understanding of chemistry to bleach your hair to that extreme without it falling out. And a PhD in physics is required to know just how large you can make those love pillows, and still walk upright.

So my hat is off to you for getting your grandfather to pay for all that expensive education, ladies. What? That older gentleman you are with is not your grandfather? Well, good. You shouldn't be fucking your grandfather anyway.

So yeah, the place reeked of money. When that Super Snake went for a cool five million, I wasn't the only one who looked like they might need to check their pants. (Of course, I was already highly aroused just from hearing the phrase "Super Snake" so many times, so I was doubly in danger of an accident.)

But seriously, the reason my drawers didn't become soiled is, I didn't know whether to shit or blow jizz. I was just astounded by the idea of paying five million bucks for a car.

Not that I would ever do that. Even when my ship comes in, and I'm spending too much money on cars I don't need, that will never include buying a car that I can't go for a ride in without having a crisis of conscience.

(I kinda wonder if I'm going to nag my people when they take me for rides in my car. I'll try not to, but I know I'll be protective of my awesome love machines. I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.)

The best bidding wasn't the seven figure cars, though. The best bidding to watch was when the person bidding was someone I knew. The money being spent wasn't mine, and the cars he acquired aren't either, but... I feel like I'm at least in some tiny way connected to them. Because I was there. I was excited. I was emotionally invested in the outcome.

(Don't tell anybody, but I intend to someday rub my turgid moose-wang on those cars, along with a few others of my choosing. My penis deserves better, and I'm going to start demanding it.)

Attending the Barrett-Jackson auction easily qualifies as one of the best days of my life. I can't wait for next year, and I want to say a big hearty Thank you! to everyone who made it possible. Especially my big-titted secretary, who didn't go Rambo on me even when I was embarrassing her to death.

Oh, and I want to say a big hearty Fuck you! to anyone who looked at me funny because I'm a moose. I can't help what I am, and I thank god that I'm not a goofy-looking bastard like those gawkers.

.

Oh, Those Crazy New Yorkers!

From Brooklyn comes this, uh... interesting story about a couple who are having a troubled divorce. Part of the trouble is, neither of them are willing to move out of the family home.

--Like two Cold War adversaries, Chana and Simon Taub are separated by a wall _ one that was built straight down the middle of their home to keep the bickering spouses apart.

Neither one wanted to move out of their beloved Brooklyn house, and so, in one of the strangest divorce battles the city has ever seen, a white drywall partition was erected a few weeks ago on orders from a judge.--

Since I'm a "glass half full" kind of moose, I can see some advantages in no one moving out. No jack-assing the kiddies all over the place for visitation while the divorce is pending is a big one. When it's the other parent's turn, just shove 'em to the other side of the partition. (Am I the only one who wonders why a couple in their late fifties still has four children living at home? Get a bit of a late start, did we?)

And if they played their cards right, they could show their sproggies that divorce isn't the end of the world, because people can act like mature adults when a marriage ends.

Unfortunately, Mom & Pop appear to be completely uninterested in being an object lesson for amicable divorce. Instead, they seem to want to become the poster children for Assclowns Anonymous.

Why do I say that? Because something's not adding up here. They own another house two doors down from the one they've just partitioned, yet neither of them wants to move into it, in spite of the fact that they hate each other and are making bizarre accusations about one another.

He says she's a gold-digger, and has 300 pairs of shoes.

She says he abused her, that he's got her under video surveillance, and that he's bugging her phones.

I say, "You're both fucking nuts! You deserve each other!"

There are a couple of points to be made here, though. One is, in high-rent districts like New York City, it's usually not practical to force someone to move out. Especially since it's ordinarily the man who is forced to go elsewhere, and also usually the man who's earning the money to pay the mortgage. How exactly is it fair that the guy paying the bills has to go live in a hovel?

The other point is a little contradictory to point #1. If you really hate someone THAT MUCH, like these bozos, wouldn't you move heaven and earth to get the fuck away from them?

Kinda makes me think that they don't hate each other as much as they claim.

So here's some advice, Mr. and Mrs. Taub:

Tear down that wall! Then get really drunk one night, and fuck like love-starved weasels until the break of dawn. It will be a new beginning for you marriage. I promise.

Besides, nobody wants a 57 year old Jewish princess shoe whore or a 57 year old sweater manufacturer in poor health. You're stuck with each other.

What's that? Oh, you're welcome. And... No charge. This time, anyway.

.

Oh, That Superior Canadian Healthcare System!

Next time someone tells you America should have "free" healthcare for everybody like canada does, think about a canuck named Adolfo Flora.

--Adolfo Flora had a simple choice. He could either die of liver cancer within six months or spend $450,000 for treatment overseas.

Flora chose life and now an Ontario Divisional Court has ruled he will have to pay for that.

This week's ruling was a blow for the 57-year-old retired high school teacher, who contracted hepatitis C from a tainted blood transfusion and was diagnosed with liver cancer in 1999. He spent $450,000 for a transplant in England after being denied the life-saving help in Ontario.

The court argued Flora's Charter rights were not violated when he was forced to choose between death or costly overseas treatment. The ruling, by a panel of three judges, also quashed his appeal of an earlier decision that refused to order the province to reimburse him.--

Kind of an interesting story, and one that highlights some of the downsides of socialized medicine.

Big downside #1 is, "free" healthcare for everybody means everyone gets treated, but at a lower level of care. There's only a certain amount of money to go around, and so choices have to be made. If you want a procedure that's not covered, you're shit out of luck unless you can afford to pay for it yourself.

Big downside #2 would be, even if you can afford it, you have to travel out of canada and have it done somewhere else. Canadian doctors who participate in the "free" healthcare system are not allowed to also contract directly with the patients to perform medical care.

I guess that makes sense, because all three of the wealthy canadians that haven't immigrated to America would use their money to shorten their wait times, and that wouldn't be fair. But it is kinda human nature to want to get treatment in time to keep you from dying, and to not have to go across an ocean to do it.

(There's also big downside #3, which is that all this "free" medical care is putting some provinces in dire financial straits, but that's such an obvious outcome that I think it more comes under the category of "serves 'em right.")

But anyway, you can't blame Liver Guy for not liking the answer of, "Sorry, dude, but you gonna DIE!" Or for going to merry olde england to borrow a liver lobe from his brother. Or for then asking his own government to reimburse him for the operation.

And you certainly can't blame them for refusing to pay for it. They can't afford to pay for everything that everyone wants.

However, I'm sure it's crossed Liver Guy's mind that if he lived in America, he wouldn't have this problem. Anyone who can afford to fly to another country and foot the bill for a $450,000 medical procedure could have afforded top-of-the-line medical insurance here.

He also could have sued the shit out of the doctors and hospital who gave him the Hep C that caused his cancer, further off-setting his costs. He couldn't sue anyone in canada, because they don't allow lawsuits when something goes wrong with the "free" healthcare. (Hey, Liver Guy, ever hear the expression "you get what you pay for"?)

The lesson here is, there will always be a hierarchy of medical care in this country, and it will beat the hell out of canada's more egalitarian system every time.

Of course, I don't give a shit either way as long as someone pays for my trips to the large animal veterinarian when I contract a social disease. Can't have my monster moose-meat rotting off. What would I do with my free time then?

Obama... In Pajamas... He's Coming Down The Stairs...

Someone's spreading rumors about Barack Hussein Obama, that black guy with the funny name who's running for President.

The email forward, which has been setting the internet that Algore didn't invent on fire, says that Mr. Obama was, at some point in his tender youth, schooled in the ways of militant Islam. He has since embraced christianity, but back in the day, he turned to Mecca six times a day to say his prayers. (Okay, he was, like, eight years old, so he probably sang dirty limericks instead of praying, but you get my point.)

Gee. Really? A guy with a muslim name was exposed to the muslim religion? I swear, I'm going to faint dead away from shock. (Okay, I'll dial back the sarcasm a little.)

Because that's not what's really funny about this story.

Funny Part A is that this information - that a man with a muslim name had some religious education at a muslim school - has been out there for more than two years, since ObiWannaBe's first book came out in 2004. It's just, nobody thought it was a big deal until he decided to run for President.

Which brings us to Funny Part B. What's hysterical in a "oh fuck I just pissed myself" way is, supposedly it was Hillary Clinton who dropped the dime on ol' Obama for being a former mumbling towel-head.

I can't say whether I believe it was her or not. Kinda sounds like something she'd do, but the timing is off, so the cold-blooded factor is missing.

But if she did do it, that's funny as shit. And if she didn't, it's funny as shit that she's taking the heat for it. So either way, I get to giggle and stroke my moose-meat.

Which leaves me with only one question...

That whole thing about muslims having to kill people who leave the faith. They don't actually do that, do they? Because that could be sort of messy, regardless of what happens to Obama in the primaries.

Wednesday Wankings

From the "Only In California" files, we have
a proposal to outlaw spanking by parents.

Spanking is already illegal in The People's Republic Of California if you are not the little bastard's parent. This proposed legislation extends that prohibition to Mommy and Daddy as well. (I was wondering something, and couldn't find an answer. Does the no spanking by non-parents apply to step-parents? Because HOOOOOOO BOY could I see THAT leading to some extremely funny - bad funny - situations.)

Anyway, yeah, let's outlaw smacking your kid on the ass. I think all parents should be forced to try to REASON with the little snot when he's about to run into traffic. Anything to thin the herd.

From south of the border comes a tale of a young man that probably should have been spanked more, and his crazy mother. He got cancelled by the Border Patrol, and his mommy wants the agent who shot him to be put to death.

--The mother of a Mexican migrant shot to death last week by a U.S. Border Patrol Agent asked for justice on Monday and said she would like to see the agent receive the death penalty.

"I want the death penalty for that killer, because my son was just trying to find a better opportunity," an emotional Laura Rivera told the Mexican news agency Notimex. "He was a young worker whom they simply killed in cold blood, so I want justice."--

Uh huh. Your kid (who was engaged in at least one criminal act when he was ventilated) was just minding his own business, illegally entering the country and wandering across the desert with his six closest friends, when some Border Patrol guy shot him dead.

Sorry, but no. Considering the other dudes he was with were taken into custody without any blood loss, your sweet baby boy was doing something he shouldn't have been when the hot lead started flying.

Shoulda taught your kid that crime doesn't pay.

On to Iowa, where emergency birth control is on trial at Wal-mart. Yeah, some pharmacist decided he had moral objections to dispensing Plan B, also called the Oops The Condom Broke pill.

Three words: What a moron.

The whole "life begins at conception" deal has nothing to do with Plan B, which is intended to suppress ovulation. I'm an uneducated moose, and even I know that. So why doesn't the amateur gynecologist at the Wal-Mart in Shitville, Iowa know it?

(Uh huh, uh huh. There's a one in a million chance that an already fertilized egg will fail to implant because Plan B makes the uterus hostile. Whatever. That's not why Inbred Buttfuck is objecting. He's objecting because he spends a lot of time jacking off in his shower, while other men get to bury their sausage to the hilt in warm, wet pussy.)

We're done here, you obnoxious clown-boxing pharmacist.

And then we have another boxing match: The Boxer vs. Rice smackdown, proving once again that not having kids makes other people say stupid things about you.

Yeah, Babs O'Boxer, fer sure. The fuckin' Secretary Of State of our fine country doesn't understand the cost of war, because she's never whelped. GOD DAMN you're a fucking moron. Condi Rice realizes the realities of war better than you ever will, you whining spoiled politician.

(Pardon me for a moment while I mumble "Barbara Boxer is a dumb cunt" under my breath.)

And last, we've got the mother of the l'il floaters from the San Francisco bay being found guilty, then being deemed insane.

Well duh. Of course she was guilty. She said she did it.

And no fucking shit she was insane. She'd been hospitalized multiple times for mental illness, she was borderline retarded, and her defense was "god told me to do it."

The question on the table isn't what to do with this woman now that she's killed her three kids. It's why we let rejects like this breed in the first place.

Love, Marriage, And My Boner

Did you know women aren't getting married as much as they used to? That now, more than half of the marriage-aged women aren't married? It's true. Read all about it here.

--For the first time, a majority of American women are living without a spouse, media reported.

The New York Times, which based its report on an analysis of census results, said 51 percent of women in 2005 reported living without a spouse, up from 35 percent in 1950 and 49 percent in 2000.--

As a moose, I can't get married. But let me let you in on a little secret. If I was a human American male, I wouldn't have a huge boner to get married anyway.

No, no, it is not the ladies and some desire for "freedom" or whatever the confused bull-dyke feminists call it these days that is driving the decline in the marriage rate. It's the men, saying, "What the fuck is in it for me?"

You know that saying about why buy the cow when you're getting the milk for free? Turns out there's some truth in that. Women (and men) have degraded themselves, and degraded the ultimate act of love, by casually, thoughtlessly fucking anything that shows an interest. Now, you don't even have to live with the bitch, or take her out on dates. You show up, y'all get naked, and bodily fluids rush forth like Niagara Falls.

Which leads to another problem. If a man DOES decide he wants to settle down, he's not going to do it with a football that's been kicked through the goal posts so many times that it can't even hold air anymore. He'll lean towards a less used model.

Double standard? Not necessarily. Those dudes who've boned a thousand women very rarely settle down. It's the "boned a half-dozen, so if you've had more than that, don't bother to apply" guys who are running the mating and marrying show. They aren't holding out for virgins. Just for gently used footballs.

Even those guys sometimes hesitate to marry, though. They figure, why not just live together? That way, she doesn't get half my shit if she decides to leave me for the personal trainer with the abs of steel.

It's kind of hard to argue with that logic. I'd be resentful as hell if some bimbo was using my money to support some dude with more muscles than brains.

So listen up, all you marriage-minded ladies. Act like ladies, don't get passed around like a big ol' fattie at a Greatful Dead concert, and do right by your men. Then maybe, just maybe, marriage will come back into fashion.

Martin Luther Who Day?

Okay, this is not intended as a slam against the memory of Martin Luther King Jr., who was a great man. (I've also heard he had a way with the ladies, which is always a wubba-wubba good thing in my book.)

But MLK has had a federal holiday for nearly twenty-five years, and yet he hasn't even been dead for forty. The timing just seems a little, um... rushed.

Now before you lynch me for being a bigot, hear me out. My objection to a federal holiday isn't - and wasn't - about the color of his skin, or about me thinking that federal holidays should only be for dead White males, or whatever.

But the holiday was first proposed four days after he died. FOUR DAYS. I don't think we should be proposing holidays or naming shit after people while the funeral home is still flushing their pipes and bagging their innards.

I mean, think about how many years it took for guys like Washington, Lincoln, and especially Columbus to get a holiday. Hundreds of years, and now Lincoln and Washington have been whirled together in the Hamilton Beach to make President's Day. They did so much, and they don't even have their own holidays.

And yet this guy gets a holiday proposed right after he gets cancelled, and it's signed into law fifteen years later? I dunno. I think someone should have to be dead at least twenty-five years before we start thinking about giving them a holiday.

I'm reminded of the renaming of Squaw Peak in Phoenix. They changed it to be the name of some woo-woo who was in Iraq in the Army, got lost, and got herself killed. Now they call it Piss-twat Peak or something. Nobody besides government employees does, though. Because she wasn't that important, and she wasn't dead five minutes when they decided to name a brown bump in Phoenix after her.

I tell ya, you people are strange. That "White guilt" thing sure makes you do some funny shit.

Something smells fishy about Nancy Pelosi...

And it's not her cooter, but rather a large employer in her Congressional district being exempted from the hike in the minimum wage.

This story tells us that:

--On Wednesday, the House voted to raise the minimum wage from $5.15 to $7.25 per hour.

The bill also extends for the first time the federal minimum wage to the U.S. territory of the Northern Mariana Islands. However, it exempts American Samoa, another Pacific island territory that would become the only U.S. territory not subject to federal minimum-wage laws.

One of the biggest opponents of the federal minimum wage in Samoa is StarKist Tuna, which owns one of the two packing plants that together employ more than 5,000 Samoans, or nearly 75 percent of the island's work force. StarKist's parent company, Del Monte Corp., has headquarters in San Francisco, which is represented by Mrs. Pelosi. The other plant belongs to California-based Chicken of the Sea.--

Okey dokey, Pelosi. You're bringing home some swag for your district. That's your job, no matter how much it makes a moose like me vomit that you guys run things that way.

So just admit it. You're helping a bunch of paunchy White California businessmen in suits get richer, at the expense of a captive labor market in American Samoa. 80% of the employed folks there work in tuna processing. There's not much else to do. If you work, it involves tuna.

And you mean to tell me that tuna, a fucking HUGE industry in this country, is going to go bust if they pay those American Samoa workers seven bucks an hour?

Disclaimer: This is not an endorsement of minimum wage laws, just an observation that when people can pay less, they will. Look at the chicks at Hooters, who get paid two and a half bucks an hour plus tips equal to the size of their tits.

Back to what we were talking about, there's no reason to continue to exempt American Samoa from the minimum wage, except Stinky Cooter Pelosi pleasing the parties that gave her lots of money to get elected. And really, she should just admit that.

But she hasn't. Instead, she claimed it was a coincidence, and said she's going to introduce legislation to "close the loop-hole."

Right on, Pelosi Who Softens Penises. I totally believe that. Now pull my other leg. Yeah, the middle one. Don't worry if it smells like tuna. That just means it had an adventure.

Girls Cheering For Girls

According to this article, that idea is about as popular as shit on a Ritz.

--Thirty girls signed up for the cheerleading squad this winter at Whitney Point High School in upstate New York. But upon learning they would be waving their pompoms for the girls’ basketball team as well as the boys’, more than half of the aspiring cheerleaders dropped out.

The eight remaining cheerleaders now awkwardly adjust their routines for whichever team is playing here on the home court — “Hands Up You Guys” becomes “Hands Up You Girls”— to comply with a new ruling from federal education officials interpreting Title IX, the law intended to guarantee gender equality in student sports.--

Okay, let's start with the basics. Cheerleaders should be girls. Guy cheerleaders are all homos. That has nothing to do with the story at hand, but I felt the need to say it.

Next, I don't see anything wrong with girl cheerleaders cheering for girl teams. It's kinda hot, actually, in a "Britney Spears and that bitchin' sexy blonde tennis player have a lesbian encounter and let me watch" sort of way.

But this Title IX shit is way outta hand. Yeah, we get it. All the money and good facilities and support went to the dudes for a lot of years. The gub'mint said the schools can't do that anymore. So, cool. Support the girls like an 18 Hour Girdle. Give them a bus with air conditioning and a john and everything.

But really, if they honestly don't want a bunch of trollops in short skirts cheering them on at their basketball games, it really shouldn't be shoved down their throats like the boy's team's starting center's penis. A simple "Thanks, but no thanks" should suffice.

Except that's not the way Title IX works. Or I should say, not the way it's implemented. Some assclown bureaucrats decided that "equivalent" meant "exactly the same, right down to how many times the cheer-trollops holler YAY TEAM!"

This isn't the first time Title IX has thrown the ho out with the scented bath-water. All over the country, high schools and colleges have been discontinuing award-winning male teams, because they can't find enough warm living female bodies to participate in women's sports.

Yo, do-gooders, here's a fact so obvious I shouldn't have to point it out: Girls don't like sports as much as boys do. They don't like watching as much, and they don't like playing as much. So any effort to ensure that women play sports proportional to their numbers at a school is going to fail.

Still, I can't help but laugh. I'm thinking all those folks who screwed the girls' teams over for all those years wish to hell they hadn't done it. Because this chicken that came home to roost is fatty and gamey and foul-tempered. (I was going to say fowl-tempered, but that would be, like, the dumbest pun ever.)

Ah, well. Live and learn, I guess. It'll all shake out like a pom-pom in the end.

Oh. One more thing. All you cheerleaders claiming that you are athletes? Sorry. You're not. It's nice that you entertain the crowd, and get them fired up, and even that you use handsprings to do it. But you're not athletes any more than David Lee Roth was while he sang for Van Halen and acted like a bonobo on speed.

He sure was fun to watch though. And so are you. So don't be sad. Smile and wave your pom-poms at me. It turns me on.

Crib Lizards And GAAAAAAWD

From canada, I bring you this touching story (no, not THAT kind of touching, you perverts) of premature sextuplets born to Jehovah's Witness parents.

Jehovah's Witnesses are those freakazoids who don't allow blood transfusions. Something about god being in the blood or some such shit. The concern with the franken-litter is that premature babies often need blood transfusions, because they don't have much blood and need a gazillion tests.

--The British Columbia government says it's ready to step in to protect the health rights of premature sextuplets born in Vancouver.

While the parents of the six babies have remained anonymous in the midst of increasing public scrutiny, they have acknowledged they are Jehovah's Witnesses. The sect's well-known belief that God forbids blood transfusions could lead to a courtroom clash over medical and religious rights.

The babies, born at 25 weeks gestation, are about the size of a hand and weigh only 700 to 800 grams.

It is common for premature babies to require blood transfusions due to the number of tests they undergo leading to blood loss.--

Ordinarily I'd say YAY, GOVERNMENT! Don't let these people's religion kill a bunch of babies.

But in this case, I think the government should mind their own fucking business, because I don't see any downside to these particular babies not making it.

Yeah, I just went there.

Let's face it, people. These babies weigh a pound and a half. That's about the size of a good dump the morning after you eat a big plate of spaghetti and meatballs with a side of garlic bread. All faith in Jehovah aside, crib lizards don't go from being that small to being normal. They go from tiny to full-sized adult that drools on itself while staring blankly into the distance.

A whole bunch of money gets spent to keep 'em alive, and for what? So a whole bunch more can be spent on their shit-load of problems and medical needs?

Makes me glad I'm a moose. We don't have the luxury or the resources to mess with defective offspring. If it ain't right, it dies, and we're very sad, but we go on. I reckon that sounds hard-hearted, but it's not. It's just acknowledging that humans are a vain bunch, and they get off on trying to manipulate Mother Nature.

Sorry to tell you folks, but she hates being toyed with, and when she's pissed off, LOOK OUT!

Now if someone can explain to me why GAAAAAAWD is okay with fertility treatments that create these franken-littlers, but not okay with blood transfusions, we'll be all set.

The USA vs. The UK

I heard today that that Beckham guy is coming to America. You know, the famous soccer player. He's going to play for the professional team in Los Angeles. (Did you know there was a professional soccer team in LA? Yeah, me either.)

Anywho, a bunch of folks in the United Kingdom are hollering that THEY DON'T CARE, that Becks is past his prime, that he hasn't played for England in a while anyway, that he's over-rated, blah blah blah.

Guys? Can I let you in on a little secret?

We don't care either.

We're not sitting here thinking that this is as big as winning the Revolution. We don't care about David Beckham, or soccer, or pretty much anything else having to do with you guys.

We even don't care that you call soccer "football," or that you don't understand why we call it soccer. I mean, duh. We call it soccer because the name "football" is already taken by those dudes who wear helmets and big shoulder pads and play in the Super Bowl. (And to save you the trouble of asking, we also don't care that the game you call football involves the ball contacting the foot more than in real football. We're still going to call it soccer, not football. Get over it.)

I suppose Beckham's new team, the LA Galaxy, hopes that having the best-known soccer player in the world on their team will help with their attendance numbers, and boost the popularity of soccer in this country. I just don't think it's going to work.

It's fun to snicker at all that british outrage, though. Just like it's fun to sit there with a smug smirk when they get all on about how their country is so much better than ours.

This goes back to the "We don't care" thing. We don't care that you think you are more civilized, or more cultured, or that you think your food is better, or your music, or your... anything.

Because we know the truth.

(Damn, sometimes I wish I weren't a moose, when I look at women like my big-titted secretary and long to have sex with them. But then I look at british women, and any urge I ever had to put the moose meat to a human female totally evaporates.)

So keep hollering that you are, like, SOOOOOOO much better than those rude, arrogant, brash Americans. But in those quiet moments after you've beat off to the all-American Jenna Jameson, ask yourself why David Beckham, and many, many other people, are so anxious to relocate to this country.

Hint: It isn't because it sucks.

I wish Becks the best of luck in his move, and his career in LA. I just hope his wife, Posh Spice, behaves herself. We have enough home-grown tabloid fodder without importing any from across the pond.

Happy Trailers To You

Some folks who live in an ocean-front trailer park in south Florida are selling out to developers. The sale will make most of them millionaires.

--Residents of this trailer-park town sitting on beachfront property have voted overwhelmingly to sell their community to a developer for more than $510 million, which could make most of them millionaires.

Some residents bought their homes for as little as $35,000.

About 80 percent of the town's shareholders who cast ballots approved the sale, while 17 percent opposed it, according to a statement Wednesday from the town's corporate office. More than 97 percent of shareholders voted.--

So hey, that's cool. They made a good investment, and now it's going to pay off. And four out of five owners are in favor of the sale, meaning that anyone unhappy with it is in the distinct minority.

Everything sounds peachy, so how come I'm even writing about this?

Mostly because I'm wondering how the fuck a trailer park ended up occupying prime Florida coastal real estate in the first place. That just seems weird to me. I didn't even think they allowed trailer parks in places like that.

Let's face it. When you think trailer park, what comes to mind? Arkansas, Oklahoma, and other similarly backwards states, right? Palm Beach, Florida isn't even on the trailer park radar.

Don't think I'm saying trailer parks shouldn't exist, because I'm not. They fill a niche for affordable housing for people that, well, can't afford any other kind of housing. And that's great, at least until a tornado or something comes through. Or until it catches on fire, because those things burn like a motherfucker.

Disasters aside, though, the world needs trailers. I'm just still not sure how a bunch of them ended up along the scenic coast of southern Florida.

Oh, well. Let's hope their deal closes before a hurricane comes through or something.

Kids, Kids, Kids

Yeah, they're noisy and they smell, but today's entry is all about the kiddies.

We've got schools sending home notes with fat kids while serving fattening food in the cafeteria, a two year old killed on a four-wheeler, and China changing their adoption standards.

I get why the schools are concerned about the ever-expanding asses of the kiddies. It's fucking obscene. But body mass index is a piss-awful measurement of whether the little bastards are at a healthy size or not. So I see this "notification" thing causing more problems than it solves.

Think about it. A large-framed, athletic kid isn't going to have the "right" BMI. But that doesn't mean he's in bad shape. It means he has a future in Pop Warner football. I hate seeing kids like that made to feel bad about their bodies.

Two other things about the article stood out, and not in a good way. One is, if you're going to stick you nose in the business of all the chubby little sproggies by tattling about their BMI, you really should be serving them Future Heart Attack food. That just makes no sense. Don't just piss and moan about their fat asses. Put your money where their Hoover Deluxe mouths are.

The other thing that was creepy was the Fat Mafia, where the fat kids made fun of both the skinny kids and the really fat kids. That means fat has become the norm, and that is bad. The fat little fuckers really need to understand that they're not just going to grow up to be visually unappealing. They're also going to be prone to that whole host of health problems that come with being fat.

On the positive side, fat kids grill up nicer on the rotisserie, so I guess it all works out.

Then we have ATV Boy, who was squished under his four-wheeler. That is sad, and even more so because it didn't need to happen.

--A 2-year-old boy was killed in Charles County over the weekend when the child-size all-terrain vehicle he was operating overturned on him, according to the Charles County Sheriff's Office.

The sheriff's office said the boy was operating a Baja Wilderness 50 four-wheeler, which is designed for children 6 to 12 years old and equipped with a remote cutoff switch. When the boy's mother turned the ATV off by the remote, the vehicle stopped but the front wheels turned, causing it to overturn on the boy, sheriff's deputies said. He was wearing a helmet.--

His mother fucked up when she hit the kill switch on the parental remote while the kid was turning. I guess she thought that since she had the controls in her hand, the laws of physics didn't apply. By god, I'm a simple moose, but even *I* know that the laws of physics always apply unless you're, like, Jesus or something.

So she killed the kid with her stupidity, but she'll never admit that. No fucking way. Somebody is going to PAY for this, don'tchaknow. The bitch will sue, and win, because the instructions didn't explicitly say, "Not intended for use by dumb-fucks. Parental remote does not render laws of physics null and void."

And China is cracking down on adoptions. Used to be, anybody with a pulse could adopt from there. Now, there's lots of rules, some of them understandable, and some of them right-down bizarre.

Age limits? Makes sense. Don't want to give flighty youngsters or doddering geezers little asian kidlets to raise. Not an alcoholic or drug addict? Also a good idea.

In a heterosexual marriage? I guess that sounds good, since kids need two parents. But it definitely shuts the homos out, and I feel sort of bad for the long-term gay couples that would love to parent, but can't.

The new rules also say fat people can't adopt. A BMI over forty is all three strikes at once. That sounds okay. Raising the young'uns in a healthy lifestyle is important.

The list goes on. Can't be deaf or blind. Can't be a criminal. Can't be mentally ill, have HIV, or be medicated for psych problems. And so on and so on and so on.

Now we get to the kind of funky part.

--afunction or dysfunction of limbs or trunk caused by impairment, incompleteness, numbness or deformation; severe facial deformation--

So no gimps, amputees, or Elephant Man types need apply.

Whatever. They orphans of China belong to China, so they can give 'em to whoever the fuck they want. I just know they've got a LOT of kids that need homes, and I'd hate to think that a bunch of them would have to go without because there's too god damned many rules.

But what do I know? I'm just a masturbating moose who likes to talk about shit he knows damn little about.

Bring on the hot asian chicks!

You're Fat. You're Ugly. You're Fired!

I read a rumor the other day that the powers that be at a certain restaurant chain have declared that no fat or ugly people are to be hired, and that the ones who are already employees must be fired. (I won't name the chain, but I don't think they Bee the Apple of their fat or ugly employees' eye.)

Of course, there's outrage amongst the fat and the ugly. "They can't DO that! It's discrimination!"

From a legal perspective, that just ain't so, unless you're in one of the tiny number of places that have laws designating fat people as a protected class. (I'm pretty sure nobody has laws protecting unattractive people, so the uggers are shit outta luck.)

Anyhow, part of the pissing and moaning about this rumored beautifying of the wait-staff has to do with the place in question having a Weight Watchers menu as part of their offerings. Why, the chubsters want to know, if you are trying to attract large customers, do you not want their equally large sisters serving the nutritious, calorie-conscious portions?

Well DUH. It's kind of the same reason that no one wants to go to an aerobics class taught by a fat chick, or a Jenny Craig counselor who's a heifer. You want to see where you're going, not where you were or are. A fat waitress serving up the weight-loss food just doesn't work.

And then there's the rest of the customers. They don't want fugly servers any more than they would want their food to look like shit. An appetizing waitress enhances an appetizing meal. A lard-ass takes away from it.

Years ago there was a rumor about Jack Welsh, the GE guy. He just fuckin' HATED fat people. Every time GE would buy up a company, they'd have to hide all the fat people when he came to visit. He even sometimes demanded that fat people be fired on the spot.

His beef (tee hee, I said beef) was that fat people were not just visually unappealing. He claimed they were also less productive, and more expensive benefits-wise.

The fat folks shouted HOGWASH!

Turns out ol' Neutron Jack was right, though. The serious whales ARE less productive, because they have lots of chronic health problems. They use their medical insurance more because of those problems too.

Jack saw intuitively what a bunch of studies proved later on. Fatties are bad for the bottom line.

(No word on how he felt about ugly people, but I'm gonna guess that he wouldn't have wanted one serving him his meal in a restaurant.)

The bad thing about ugly is that there's not much you can do about it that doesn't involve expensive surgery and shit. The good thing about fat is, it's easy to do something about it. Put down the fork, push away from the table, and go for a nice walk.

And stop claiming you can't help being fat. It's not like being black or something. You weren't exactly born that way.

Let 'Em Serve

The other day, there was a long-winded editorial in the New York Times where some John M. Shalikashvili dude was re-thinking his objection to gays in the military.

--When I was chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, I supported the current policy because I believed that implementing a change in the rules at that time would have been too burdensome for our troops and commanders. I still believe that to have been true. The concern among many in the military was that given the longstanding view that homosexuality was incompatible with service, letting people who were openly gay serve would lower morale, harm recruitment and undermine unit cohesion.

I now believe that if gay men and lesbians served openly in the United States military, they would not undermine the efficacy of the armed forces. Our military has been stretched thin by our deployments in the Middle East, and we must welcome the service of any American who is willing and able to do the job.--

Well no shit, Sherlock. Whether a person prefers their own gender or the opposite one has nothing to do with whether they'd be a valuable addition to the military.

When I read the first paragraph, about how he used to think the policy was right, here's what I was thinking: I guess I never got the whole objection to gays in the military anyway. He sounds like he's saying it was a bad idea because it would have bugged the soldiers who were straight.

Kinda like when they rapidly, forcefully, and completely integrated the military race-wise all those years ago. Remember how the skies shook with thunder, and the world as we know it came to an end?

Oh, wait. It didn't. My bad.

And the same thing would happen with the gays. Life would go on.

Remember that scene towards the end of the last Lord Of The Rings movie? Where the one dwarf guy was saying he never imagined dying in battle beside an elf, and the gay-looking elf said something about dying side by side with a friend?

That's how it would go down in the real world. People bond in the military. Male, female, gay, straight, white, black... They forge ties that no one who's never been there can understand. They don't look at their brothers-in-arms as {fill in label}. They just don't, any more than the dwarf and the gay-looking elf did in the end.

So when it comes to gays in the military, I say, let 'em serve. The entire organization will be better for it.

Now, on to more important things. Where do I sign up to subscribe to the Hot Military Lesbian Webcam?

This Is Just Weird

And for once, I've got no idea what to think. Read the story, and share in my moose-confusion. (No, that doesn't mean you can share my Chocolate, butt weevil. We're just not that close.)

--In the hours before his death on the evening of December 30, the first black mayor of this overwhelmingly white town started learning his new job.

About noon, he set City Hall's alarm system for the first time. He got instructions on how to raise and lower the U.S. flag. He had already ordered a new mayoral letterhead with his name on it and a button-down shirt embroidered "Gerald Washington, Mayor."

A few hours later he indulged in a hobby, placing a $4 bet at a nearby horse-racing track.

But by 10 p.m. Gerald "Wash" Washington was dead in the deserted parking lot of a former high school, a bullet wound in his chest. His gun was found by the body.

The coroner and the sheriff have pronounced Washington's death a suicide -- a finding that has embroiled this oil-refinery town in conspiracy theories, with Washington's kin and friends insisting he had no reason to end his life.--

See? Weirdness.

I mean, on the one hand, the coroner said this was a suicide, despite the protestations of his family and friends that he had no reason to do that. On the other hand, this is a black dude elected by a big margin in a town that's mostly white. No doubt a few people were cheesed off by that.

So either this dude erased himself for no apparent reason, or he was murdered by racists/bigots/pissed off people/whatevers.

I dunno, though. I think besides the one hand and the other hand, there might be a third hand in this case. (And yeah, I find the phrase "third hand" highly arousing. Thank you for asking, pervo.)

Everyone was saying how charismatic and popular and whatever this guy was. People like that are great to rub antlers with, but some of them can be real fucked up inside. Like their brain is this muddled mystery of stuff that normal people can't understand.

Look at, like, serial killers and cult leaders and people like that. Ted Bundy was a total charmer. Charles Manson was compelling enough to get a bunch of people to go out and kill people FOR him.

There's some politicians like that, too. Look at Kennedy. (No, I don't care which one you look at. They all suffer from the same sociopathy.)

I'm not saying I think this dude was a bad guy. I'm just saying, sometimes there's weirdness that comes with this kind of package. Oh, and I'm saying I've got no fucking idea what happened.

I hope if he was murdered that the guy who did it is caught, and if he killed himself that the family finds out why so they can have some closure.

Gack. This is all too confusing. I think I'll go rub my moose-wang until I feel a lot less puzzled.

Old MacDonald Had A Farm Subsidy

I like the idea of farmers. Men of the land, tilling the soil, making the cucumbers grow so the ladies can masturbate with them. Er, I mean, making the corn grow so the supply of Jack Daniels doesn't dry up. Um, no wait, I mean making the strawberries grow so I can seduce more women.

Oh, piss on it. You get my point: Farmer Fred, and maybe a few other folks, managing a family-owned enterprise, producing fresh fruits and vegetables for us all to eat is a nostalgic visual, but one that's still alive and well all across the country.

And then you have the mass-production "corporate" farms. The corn isn't meant to be eaten off the cob with a slathering of butter and some salt. It gets made into sweetener, and thickener, and ethanol, and other stuff that doesn't resemble corn at all.

Fine. Cool. Great. The food processing industry and others need all that stuff. I'm a capitalist, and I approve of agricultural conglomerates turning the humble corn kernels into Tootsie Pops and racing fuel.

What I don't get, though, is why farming has to be subsidized. I mean farming in general, but in specific, I mean those enormous corporate mega-farms. I mean, c'mon. They have share-holders and insurance and lots of capital. All that stuff that means even if you have a bad tear, you won't be wiped out.

I don't have any heartburn with helping Farmer Fred if his growing season goes caddywhumpus. Shit happens, and a man who grows the bell peppers that make kung pao chicken possible shouldn't end up bankrupt and homeless if the pepper blight strikes.

So, we help him out. Because farmers, like cowboys and entrepeneurs, are part of the social fabric of our great nation. They make the world go 'round. We need them, we love them, and we don't WANT all our veggies to be the tasteless boring shit that comes from those modern, mechanized, efficient "factory" farms.

But mega-grower Acme Agriculture Co. doesn't need our help. All that farm subsidies do for them is pad their bottom line. If you can't do that kind of farming as a capitalist venture, find another line of work.

Not to mention, even if an enterprise like Acme does crash and burn, and go out of business, the world won't be a worse place.

So fuck 'em all. No more corporate welfare for gigantic agriculture operations.

Thursday Thoughts

To no one's surprise, Fred Goldman still hates OJ, and he's suing The Juice over the money he was given to write that creepy book. (Yeah, I know a ghost-writer did it. I just couldn't bring myself to say "ghost-writer" in reference to a book about how someone killed a couple of people.)

It's no secret the OJ isn't wound too tight, otherwise he never would have cancelled Nicole and her friend in the first place. But even he should be able to see he's playing with fire by trying to tool Fred Goldman. That man's got a look in his eye, like he's about one more public "fuck you" away from opening a big ol' can of whoop-ass on The Juice.

Is anyone at all going to be surprised if OJ ends up scragged?

Speaking of killing and mayhem and man's inhumanity to man or whatever, New Orleans is off to a good start on their homicide rate for the year. Four days in, and seven people have already had their tickets punched.

Huh. And here I thought the Big Easy had exported all their criminals to other cities after the hurricane. I guess they either came back, or new ones sprung up to take their place. Kinda like weeds, those murdering thugs are.

In other news, Nancy Pelosi is double bag triple coyote Mississippi ugly.



Oh, and she also was sworn in as Speaker of the House. First person without a penis to ever serve as Speaker. Making history and all that.

But she's still painfully homely. There ought to be Congressional hearings on all the boners she's killed. I bet it's almost as many as Hillary Clinton.

This story is sad, but I'm an insensitive bastard, so I'm going to laugh about it anyway.

--Royal Caribbean Cruises has agreed to pay more than $1 million to the estate of a Connecticut man who vanished from his honeymoon cruise in 2005 according settlement papers to be filed Thursday.

George Allen Smith IV disappeared on July 5, 2005, after a night of heavy drinking aboard Royal Caribbean's Brilliance of the Seas as it sailed between Greece and Turkey. The FBI has been investigating, but no one has been charged in his disappearance and no body has been recovered.--

So we've got two possible scenarios here. One is that he got drunk and fell overboard. The other is that his brand new wife told him that now that they were married, she wasn't going to smoke his pole anymore. He contemplated living fifty years without a blowjob, and threw himself into the sea in despair.

Of course, he might have seen a picture of Nancy Pelosi, suffered sever erectile dysfunction on his honeymoon, and staged his own death out of embarrassment.

Last and least, a seventeen year old guy in Nebraska kills two friends in a car wreck, then whines to the media that he's having nightmares.

Dude. You cancelled two friends after you'd been drinking beer. I'd be worried about you if you WEREN'T having nightmares, and feeling guilty as all hell. Oh, and those night sweats where you wonder if or when the cops are going to knock on your door and haul your ass off in handcuffs for vehicular homicide can't be too fucking much fun either.

Suck it up. You fucked up royally, and you're gonna pay for it one way or another for the rest of your life.

Public Service Announcement: Kids, don't drink. But if you do drink, don't drive. Nothing good can come of it.

Friends Don't Let Friends Act Stupid

You can read a story about a dude named Genarlow Wilson here.

He and his friends decided to spend New Year's Eve at a low rent motel a few years back. The party they held included booze, pot, and group sex. Oh, and they videotaped it.

Problem is, one of the girls was all fucked up drunk when five (FIVE!) guys had sex with her. And another girl who went around sucking half a dozen dicks was only fifteen years old.

Oops.

(Oh, yeah. Read about poor Genarlow's appeals here. His bid to have another look taken at his case was denied in late December.)

Does some young and dumb and full of cum seventeen year old belong in prison for what happened at that sleazy motel? Probably. Maybe not for ten years, but his halo ain't as shiny as they're trying to make it out to be.

I mean, c'mon. They don't tell the stupid little fucks somewhere along the way what the legal fucking age is? Nobody ever told these doorknobs that it's not cool to videotape sex with real young girls? Somebody failed to mention that fucking a drunk chick might end up with your dumb ass charged with rape?

So yeah. Where the fuck are the fathers? The male role models? The dudes that teach these ass badgers what the fuck the right and wrong way to treat a woman is.

And where was the guiding parent hand when this poor bastard refused the plea bargain? Five of the six dudes charged copped a plea. I get the whole outrage thing, but FUCK. Do you really want to spend ten years of your life behind bars because you don't think you did anything wrong even though the law is sure you did?

As friends, they should have looked out for one another that night. Friends don't let friends molest shit-faced or legally unavailable female meat.

Genarlow needs better friends, and less random fucking. The laws exist for a reason.

Here In My Car, I Feel Safest Of All

I can lock all my doors,
It's the only way to live, in cars...

(doot de doot doo doo doo, doot de doot doo doo doo)

Ahem. Right. Cars.

Got $407,000 to spare?

--Rolls-Royce Motor Cars will unveil its first convertible in five years at the auto show in Detroit later this month.

The Phantom Drophead Coupé is due to start production in summer of 2007 at the luxury automaker's Goodwood plant in England. It will retail for $407,000, or about £208,000. It is the first Rolls convertible since it stopped production of the Corniche in 2002.--

Read the whole story here. I loved the part about the convertible top having a cashmere lining so the car is quiet when the roof is closed. Quiet, my ass. I'd be doing gymnastics to rub my pecker on that cashmere.

I don't really get the concept of a Rolls convertible. It sounds cool and all, and if someone gave one to me (and paid the taxes on the gift), I sure wouldn't say no, and I'd have my people take me driving in it every day so I could enjoy the cashmere.

But when I think of Rolls-Royce, I think of people whose hair never moves, and is always arranged just the way it should be. Like that mustard commercial guy. You could tell he'd stroke out if his hair ended up looking all Einstein because he was tooling around with the top down.

I dunno. It just seems wrong. But I'd still really love to molest that cashmere.

When you think of German cars, what comes to mind first? Yeah, me too. The autobahn. Where you can drive as fast as you want, and if you crash, that superior German engineering will keep you from turning into road pizza.

Well, some buzz-kill group of environmentalists are proposing that autobahn speeds be limited, not as a safety measure, but to reduce pollution.

--German environmentalists hope the country's stewardship of the Group of Eight and the European Union in 2007 will help steer the car-crazy nation towards imposing speed limits on its unrestricted autobahns.

They say that if motorists took their foot off the throttle a little, this would cut greenhouse gas emissions and help Germany brush up its green credentials.--

Oh, fuck that shit. Scientists already proved that me and the cows and the rest of the mega-farters are wrecking the planet way faster than you puny humans. So what's the difference if the Germans want to drive like a bat out of hell? Leave 'em alone, and start doing some protests that involve hot naked women like PETA does instead.

Want to get real depressed? Read about the Ford Mustang going all family-friendly.

--Ford Motor Co. will introduce a 4-door, V-8 concept-car carrying most of the mechanical underpinnings of its popular Mustang sports car, the company said in a recent statement.

With its six-speed manual gearbox, low roof-line and massive 22-inch wheels, the design is targeted at driving enthusiasts looking for a bold design but who can't fit the family in a two-door coupe.--

I'm not the new Mustang's biggest fan, but it's not a bad car. And it's a SPORTS CAR. In other words, not really intended for schlepping the kids to school or soccer practice or the mall.

Ya gotta understand that when you sprog, those days of you and the little wifey hopping in the 'stang and going up to Inspiration Point so she can toot your meat piccolo are over. Finished. Done. So are the days when you can pick a fight with her for the sole purpose of storming out of the house so you can go joy-riding in your 'stang.

Something just seems WRONG about taking an American icon like the Mustang, and trying to turn it into the mating of a mini-van and a hot set of wheels. It won't be as hot as the original, and it won't be as convenient as the "family" vehicle.

And by god, when I say something's wrong, it's just fuckin' WRONG.

Let's hope the whole concept crashes and burns like an American car trying to cut it on the autobahn.