Wednesday, October 31, 2007
God Bless The Pink Pony

The Pink Pony strip club, with its awesome "OOOH THE NAKED GIRLS ARE HERE/GOD BLESS AMERICA" duality, isn't located in Louisville, but I couldn't resist posting this picture.

I'm beginning to resent the intrusive nature of our local government. First they decided to ban smoking in all public buildings, including bars. As a non-smoker I agree with this in principle, but history has shown that if you passively allow politicians to control one aspect of your life they won't be satisfied until they own you.

For example, now our illustrious city council has decided to mess with the local strip clubs! See, back in 2004 they passed a Victorian Era adult entertainment ordinance. This ordinance requires businesses such as strip clubs and adult bookstores to close between 1 a.m. and 9 a.m.; forbids fully nude dancing; requires dancers at adult establishments to remain at least 6 feet from customers; and prohibits customers from giving tips directly to the dancers. Several times this stupid law was found unconstitutional by reasonable judges, but the city kept going at it until they found a conservative court of appeals to uphold this base intrusion into our private lives.

So, if the inevitable appeals fail, strip clubs in Louisville will just be really shitty bars with expensive drinks. "Did I just pay eight dollars for a Bud Light to squint at a pasty-clad woman two fucking yards away from me? What do you mean 'Last Call'? It's 12:5o. The bar next door full of drunken patrons dry humping one another is open until 4am!"

This really doesn't affect me like it would have about six years ago. I've been to a strip club twice since I moved back to Louisville. At this point in my life I like to sit in a regular bar having a nice microbrewed beer or a top shelf bourbon. Hopefully, friends will be there and there will be conversation and jocularity.

But still, outlawing nudity and lap dances at a strip club is just wrong. It's bullshit political grandstanding aimed at a bunch of busy-bodied voters whose assholes burn when they think someone is actually having a good time.

"Yeah, they're dragging dead bodies out of the inner city on a daily basis, but at least people can't stare at titties any more. Tie goes to the runner."

I love this city but it has REAL problems that need to be addressed. Perhaps we need to elect people who are capable of tackling some of these problems instead of throwing bones at morons.

Wait, I just had an idea. Maybe I can get a job at a strip club as a "Tip Courier". Since it may soon be a CRIME to directly tip a stripper, I can be the guy who takes the dollar bill from the patron and gives it to the adult entertainer. It's a tough job, but someone has to do it.


Monday, October 29, 2007
Can "White Trash Corona" Save the World?

Have you seen the latest bullshit beer commercial that makes me wish I hated televised sporting events?

In said commercial, a couple of no-taste-having motherfuckers are sitting in a bar drinking Chill, a horrible barley-abortion from the swill merchants at Miller, when they catch the eye of a table of attractive yet tastebudless women, who are lured by the siren's call of watered down toilet water with a "hint of lime and salt" (That's a fucking tortilla chip, not a beer!). The girls pull their chairs up to the guys' table, which starts a chain reaction of everyone in the establishment joining them, seemingly unable to resist a glorified wine cooler with an advertising budget that could feed the starving children of the world a thousand times over.

But wait, there's more! Neighborhood residents and passers-by notice the crowd downing the overhyped cesspool brine, and they just have to get in on it, man! They start stealing chairs from other bars and restaurants (probably a few of which have a good draft beer list) and even presumably breaking into nearby apartments. Soon dozens of people are brought together by the stunningly effective combination of unflinching gullibility and a slavish devotion to mediocrity. Then, I assume, Dane Cook walks into the room with enough Taco Bell for everyone and they take turns blowing him while eating something "melty".

Could this happen in real life? Is Miller Chill the answer? Will this bring us all together as a nation, as a world? "Hell, I was gonna shoot that abortion doctor," Jimmy Fred Bodeen told the Associated Press, "but instead we shared a sixer of Miller Chill." IT COULD HAPPEN!

It could even go beyond that. I'm thinking BIG here. Perhaps the Arabs and Israelis have ONE thing in common, the hatred of having to squeeze a lime into a bottle of shitty beer. Miller Chill could lead to peace in the Middle East.

If that's the case, lovers of garbage, you'd better get one before Dick Cheney takes them off the market.


Saturday, October 27, 2007
The Hillary Bashing Has Begun
I expected the right wing to bash Hillary. After all, she's married to Bill, the guy who had the nerve to govern successfully for eight years. And weren't they a groovy couple?

But the lefties don't like her positions on Iraq. I read a liberal comic strip in which a character says "Hillary Clinton is Rudy Giuliani for people who hate male pattern baldness." That's a funny line, but of course complete bullshit. These are the same people who said in 2000 that there were no real differences between Al Gore and George Bush. Then they threw their votes away on Ralph Nader and have tasted bitter granola for the past seven years.

Moderate Republican blogger Andrew Sullivan is disillusioned by the neocons and may vote Democratic next year, but not if Hillary is running. The other night I heard him call Senator Clinton "Dick Cheney in a pantsuit." Ouch. I wouldn't compare my worst enemy to Dick Cheney.

I'm so confused. Sean Hannity, who really really loves Dick Cheney in a totally closeted gay way, hates Hillary's guts. Just ask him. Either Andrew Sullivan is way off base with his comparison, or Sean Hannity just fucking despises pantsuits. You decide.

Maybe Hillary Clinton is the worst of both worlds: A tax and spend warmonger! Or maybe, just maybe, a lot of people are full of shit.

For the record, I support General Wesley Clark, who isn't running. Or Al Gore, who isn't running. Or Mike Bloomberg, who isn't running. But I'd vote for Hillary, especially if she goes up against Mitt Romney. I'm not a fan of male pattern Mormonism.


Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Our First Ever "Lucky Bastard of the Month" Award

This is Tim Tebow. He's a sophomore in college, so he still has his youth; his precious, fleeting youth. He plays quarterback for the Florida Gators and is a front runner for the Heisman Trophy, the coolest looking trophy in all of sport.

But that's not why he's lucky. C'mon, just look at that girl! That's his girlfriend, folks. Sweet lord of heaven and tit, she's hot. I'd pop fifty Viagra and pogo to Florida with my cock just to masturbate to an artist's rendering of a woman who passed this young lady in the hall.

I've been advised by my attorney to add that this hot chick is probably an intelligent woman and a nice person. But really, with boobs like that, who cares? Tim Tebow is nineteen years old. He doesn't go to college parties trolling for the love of his life. He found a very attractive girl whose jig-bitties should be on our currency. That makes him DWAFM's Inaugural Lucky Bastard of the Month.


Tuesday, October 23, 2007
The World Series that confused me
As the World Series nears, I'm reminded of the 1986 World Series, and the annoying Mets fan who sat behind home plate at Shea Stadium and did some weird motion with her hands. I guess she did it to throw off the Red Sox pitchers; or to call attention to herself on national television.

In the days before youtube, ruining sporting events was the preferred method for showy assholes to get noticed. Damn, I wish I had a picture of this crazy woman who made me forever hate the Mets, but googling annoying Mets fan who sat behind home plate at Shea Stadium during the 1986 World Series and did some weird motion with her hands yielded this result. While I'd like to think that's her all ground up into manageable pieces and placed in a handy receptacle, it's really just a bucket of huckleberries.

I'll admit I usually only watch baseball during the playoffs; I'm not a diehard fan of any team. So when the '86 series started I had to decide who I wanted to win. At first I picked the Red Sox, because they hadn't won the Series since men wore full link mink coats. But the games started and I really hated the way the Boston crowd serenaded Mets player Daryl Strawberry by chanting "Daaarrryl, Daaarrryl" with their thick chowder slurping Boston accents. It was obnoxious and reminded me that most of those people were probably Celtics fans and they won all the time, so fuck 'em! I switched my temporary allegiance to the Mets.

The next night I saw her, right behind home plate, constantly moving her hands like a basketball referee signaling a traveling violation. Whenever the Mets batted, she did this non-stop. I could not, in good conscience, support any team that had this horrible human abomination as a fan. After two innings of starring at my television set through vision made blurry by rage, I called my friend Kevin.

"Are you seeing this?" I asked.

"That fucking woman doing that shit with her hands? God, how could I miss it?" he replied.

"Well," I stated, "I'm for the Red Sox now. I have to be. So they chant 'Daaarryl', so what? He's a millionaire, he can take it."

And of course the Red Sox lost. The Mets and that terrible lady won. I hope she suffered a repetitive stress injury for her troubles.

I still don't really have a favorite team, but I like the fact that the current Red Sox club is a thorn in the side of the Yankees, and I admire a lot of their players. As for the Boston fans, I overlook the fact that most of them also support those arrogant douchebag New England Patriots. Besides, Daryl Strawberry turned out to be a giant coke fiend, so they were right to mock him.


Friday, October 19, 2007
This Week in Assholery

-I think the next manager of the New York Yankees should be this guy. And the weasly fuck next to him can be the pitching coach. Wow, what a typical douchebag Yankee fan. Look at those Little Orphan Annie Decoder Rings that motherfucker's wearing. And are non-assholes even allowed to smoke cigars?

-Ann Coulter, who everyone with a quarter of a brain knows is batshit insane, said some anti-Semitic comments last week. As usual, she doesn't like taking any heat for her vicious, ignorant hate-speech. Dismissing the criticism, she said "...the Jews believe that my savior, a Jew, was a raving lunatic, and you don't see me sniffling and crying."

No, Ann, we see you snarling and yelling, but that isn't the point. I'm certainly not an expert in Jewish theology, but I'm fairly sure there is nothing in their theology where Jesus Christ is referred to as a "raving lunatic". Just because a lot of people think Ann is a raving lunatic, that's no reason for her to project all over the Jews. And this just in: Jesus says to Ann Coulter, "Your savior? Bitch, please."

-Jennifer Lopez has a new CD out called Brave. Because really, is there a greater personification of bravery than Jennifer Lopez?

-I'm beginning to think that Michael Vick will get his dogs back before Britney Spears regains custody of her children.


Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Now that's customer service!
There's a stupid old man who comes into the liquor store once a week and gets all attitudey with me because we never have the strawberry daiquiri wine coolers he loves so much. First of all, no one who's old enough to legally drink alcohol should EVER be caught with a strawberry daiquiri wine cooler in his possession. Strawberry daiquiri wine coolers are what sophomores in high school have their older brothers buy for them so they can get freshmen girls drunk and maybe get a linen closet handie at some weekend party. Old men are supposed to drink cheap vodka or a blended whiskey of ill-repute. Those are the rules, Gramps.

Also, this old piece of shit wears a bandanna on his head, like he's Deion Sanders at Florida State. I don't need a hard time from some guy who no longer has solid bowel movements but feels the need to dress like Captain Jack Sparrow. Even though I tell him every week "We order that product every Thursday. Every Friday the distributor says they're out of it," he insists on being a complete and utter prick.

My solution is simple. Tomorrow, on my day off, I'm going to scour this city until I find the strawberry daiquiri coolers he so desires. If I find them, I'm going to buy one bottle out of the four pack. Stores don't like it when you do this, but fuck 'em; it happens to us all the time. Then on Friday before work I'm going to lube up that little bottle and shove it up my own ass. Yes, it will be quite unpleasant, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Finally, after carrying this uncomfortable piece of glass up my ass, the old bastard will yell at me for being out of the strawberry daiquiri coolers and I can literally PULL ONE OUT OF MY ASS FOR HIM! "Here you go, fucker. Wipe off the corn and peanuts and it'll be as good as new."


Monday, October 15, 2007
Less than well...

You know when it feels like someone is trying to skull fuck your eyes out from the inside of your head? Pull up your pants and get out of my noggin, you little socket fucker!

This just in: The Supreme Court voted 5-4 to give the Nobel Peace Prize to George W. Bush.

That's all I got. Hey, you get sick and try to blog.


Friday, October 12, 2007
Say you're sorry, Bill!
In 2002, at the age of 11, Shawn Hornbeck disappeared. He was found in January of this year, living with the 41-year-old man who kidnapped him.

Most people felt sorry for the kid, but not Bill O'Reilly. He wondered aloud why the child, who was seen riding his bike around his captor's neighborhood, hadn't simply escaped. The idea that a young victim could be psychologically controlled by a manipulative sociopath was rejected by Mr. No Spin. He had this to say:

"The situation here, for this kid, looks to me to be a lot more fun than what he had under his old parents. He didn't have to go to school, he could run around and do whatever he wanted…there was an element here that this kid liked about this circumstance."

I mention this because the kidnapper, Michael Devlin, has since admitted in court to subjecting this boy to years of torture and sodomy. So, Bill O'Reilly may have been a little quick to dismiss Shawn's hellish imprisonment as an extended stay at Disneyland. "Hey, he didn't have to go to school, the lucky bastard. In exchange for a little ass-raping, the kid wasn't forced to learn things with his peers. Sounds like a fair trade!"

What is the point of this post? Well, that Bill O'Reilly is a horrible person who needs to think before he opens his sewer of a mouth.

The child's family is still awaiting Mr. O'Reilly's apology. I hope they aren't holding their collective breath.



Wednesday, October 10, 2007
"God Bless America...But Fuck You, Rudy."
Rudy Giuliani, who's running for President in case you haven't heard, sure likes to hang out at Yankee Stadium. In fact, apart from making rubble angels at Ground Zero, his favorite activity seems to be putting on a Yankees cap.

Rudy loves throwing out the first pitch, sitting on the third base line, and getting his picture taken with Yankee greats. He even performed the National Anthem by fucking a hurdy gurdy machine. You can't throw a simple minded jingoistic slogan in that stadium without knocking Rudy's cap off.

Imagine everyone's surprise the other night when Rudy was heartily booed at Yankee Stadium. As is tradition at the stadium, someone sang God Bless America during the seventh inning stretch. When Rudy's image was shown on the big screen, a lot of the crowd stopped singing and started booing.

Rudy Giuliani being booed at Yankee Stadium is like Charlie Sheen being booed at a whorehouse. It just isn't supposed to happen! It's like fat women booing Richard Simmons, or Mexicans booing a statue of the Virgin Mary.

Wow, this is a startling development. Remember in the aftermath of 9/11 when Rudy was known as "America's Mayor"? (By the way, I called America's Mayor's office and complained about a pothole on my street. No response.) Now Rudy is so hated by the Far Right that they're planning a Third Party candidate if he gets the Republican nomination. They don't like his views on abortion and the fact that he's cheated on at least twice as many wives as Bill Clinton. His own children don't even speak to him, for god's sake. And a lot of us are wondering if he can go three minutes without mentioning 9/11 and his highly disputed role in New York's recovery.

Mark my words, when he and Hillary Clinton get their party's respective nominations, it's going to be a fucking bloodbath of negative ads and outright lies coming from both sides. Who knows, the Right Wingers might be able to convince Newt Gingrich to run on their ticket, provided he can stockpile enough infant's blood to give him sustenance through a long campaign. And never rule out egomaniacal lug nut Ralph Nader. He could get his collection of drab suits out of storage to fuck the Democrats in the ass once again.

I'm really not looking forward to it.


Monday, October 08, 2007
Rest in Peace
It really sucks when a good person dies. I know good people die every day, but that doesn't make it any less depressing.

I never read the obituaries, but last night I was fumbling through the Sunday paper and a name and picture jumped out at me. Someone I met in college had died after a battle with cancer.

I'm not going to mention his name. In this age of google searches I don't want his loved ones to find his name associated with the more unsavory aspects of this blog, just out of respect.

When I met him at the University of Louisville, his nephew was one of my classmates. He was about fifteen years older than us, back in school to get his degree. He'd sit with us in the student center and drink coffee. He was funny as hell and would always listen to our angsty bullshit without being too judgmental.

Years later, he was employed as a sales rep for a local liquor distributor, so I'd frequently see him at the store. He always had a smile on his face and a kind word for me; and he still appreciated a good joke.

It had been at least a few months since the last time I saw him at work. It's not like he was a close friend, but damn if he wasn't one of the good guys. There are far too few good guys, and now there's one less.

And if I'm saddened, imagine how his friends and family feel. My deepest sympathies go out to them.


Saturday, October 06, 2007
Biting the hands that feed him
Sweet Jesus in a Prius, how big of an arrogant jackass is Lebron James?

Lebron, who plays basketball for the Cleveland Cavaliers and grew up in nearby Akron, is a New York Yankees fan? Why? I'm guessing because the Yankees win a lot and he's a soulless front runner, but that isn't the point.

The point is that a hometown hero showed up to a Yankees-Indians playoff game, in Cleveland, not only wearing a Yankees cap but making a huge "Everyone pay attention to me!" spectacle of himself.

Of course, Lebron has the right to be a fan of any team he chooses, even the mothergoddamnfucking Yankees. He even has the right to show up at a stadium full of the fans who helped make him a millionaire and rub their noses in the piss stain that is his misguided team allegiance.

But he's still a prick for doing it.

I think Cleveland fans should show up at Lebron's basketball games wearing San Antonio Spurs hats. I'm sure Lebron loves the Spurs after they ran his ass out of the NBA Finals. They should all raise their Spurs hats above their heads like attention-seeking assholes and boo the Yankee fan every time he touches the ball.


Thursday, October 04, 2007
Holy Shit! I Am a Provincial Douchebag!
I was thinking the other day about places I'd like to visit if I ever get enough money to afford a vacation. I like Chicago and San Diego; I've always wanted to visit Seattle; and I have family in Las Vegas. However, as I systematically eliminated scores of locations, I realized that I am, as alluded to on this very blog a few weeks ago, a provincial douchebag. My supportive friend ScarHip said "You're just now figuring this out? Really?" Yes.

So without further adieu, here is a short list of places I will never visit and my irrational reasons why.

Boston
I like the Red Sox because they usually have the best chance of beating those fucking fuck Yankees. But Boston is responsible for Dane Cook, and I fear if I ever visited this city I'd burn down his boyhood home.

Philadelphia
It's probably wrong to judge a city of people entirely on the actions of fans of the local football team, but I don't care. Fuck the Eagles and all who cheer for them. I won't go to Philly because I don't want to be booed and pelted with garbage as I exit the plane.

Portland, Oregon
I've always thought of Portland as Seattle's dimwitted cousin.

Houston
When George Bush's approval rating dipped below twenty-five percent, the flags in Houston were dropped to half-mast.

Branson, Missouri
"My dad says it's like Vegas...if it were run by Ned Flanders." -Bart Simpson

Comedian Yakov S
mirnoff has a show in Ned Vegas. They advertise it with the line "Laugh your Yak off with Yakov." I guess if you think that's funny, this is the show for you.

For the sake of research (because I'm all about the research) I looked at a Branson promotional website. Damn near every show received a five star rating from visitors to the site. Either Branson has the most stunning collection of talent ever assembled in one place or Branson tourists are VERY easily entertained. I'll let you decide.

Phoenix
Speaking of Vegas comparisons, Phoenix has the desert climate of Sin City without any of the sin. That's like having an inflatable love partner with only one vibrating entry! Am I right, people?!? Uh...let's move on.

Atlanta
Everything you hate about the South, now with traffic jams!

All of the square states in the middle of the country that look exactly alike
You guys made me get a shitty grade on a "find the state" test in fifth grade, so fuck right off.

Countries where English is not the primary language
Hey, this one is entirely on me. I don't expect anyone to learn English just so I can specify that I don't want Tennessee whiskey in my Manhattan. But on the other hand, if I'm on vacation I don't want Tennessee whiskey in my Manhattan. So really, it's better for all involved if I just stay away.

North Dakota
Has anyone ever visited North Dakota? Has anyone ever said "Sure, Mount Rushmore is ok, I guess, but let's cross the state line into North Dakota"? Didn't think so.


Well, there are a lot more, but I've made enough enemies for now. If I've offended anyone I don't know what to say, other than "Branson awaits you."



Tuesday, October 02, 2007
My Chemical Hawthorne Fall-Out at the Disco


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