A note from work...

I am no longer a cashier supervisor at work, so I no longer have to stand around babysitting grown-ups for eight hours a day. And getting berated by crazy people because I won't sell liquor to their dangerously underage girlfriends is now a thing of the past. 


I'm now the "beer guy", which means I stock beer and stuff. It keeps me busy and generally away from the public, which makes me very happy. 


I do have to deal with beer vendors, but most of them are ok. A notable exception is a guy from Miller/Coors who looks like The Penguin. Not a penguin, The Penguin. Oswald Motherfucking Cobblepot. And he's a lazy, gruff asshole. The other day there was a shopping cart full of Miller Chill in the back storage area. I had been off the previous day, so I had no idea why it was there. The Penguin walked up to me all aggressive and gave me the third degree about it, like he was my boss. He isn't my boss, in case you were wondering. The conversation went something like this:


The Penguin: "What's the story with this Miller Chill?"


Me: "The story? Well, once upon a time there was this soulless corporation called Miller Brewing and they had an idea to make a shitty lime-flavored beer that no one gives a fuck about. And that's the Miller Chill story."


That's me, making friends wherever I go. 

The Separation of Church and Blog

I started going back to church again.

Yeah, I know you're all shocked. "Hey, aren't you the guy with the filthy blog? Wasn't it just last week that you suggested that Lindsay Lohan have her vagina sewn shut?"

Yes, and I still believe that. I'm a foul-mouthed drinker of beer and bourbon who attends church, sometimes with a hangover. If you think that makes me a hypocrite, you're missing the point. 

And don't worry, I don't plan on trying to convert any readers. Why not? Well, because it's fucking obnoxious, that's why (There I am, cursing again).

And mainly because I have my own doubts. Was Jesus the son of God put here on Earth to redeem us? I don't know. Are the words of Jesus (or if you prefer, words attributed to Jesus) a good if perhaps unattainable blueprint for how to live your life? I say yes. Kurt Vonnegut, self-described "Christ-worshipping Agnostic", once said "I am enchanted by the Sermon on the Mount. Being merciful, it seems to me, is the only good idea we have received so far. Perhaps we will get another idea that good by and by - and then we will have two good ideas." 

Vonnegut, of course, also had a healthy distaste for showy institutional religion. I couldn't see myself attending one of those large, Six Flags Over Jesus megachurches. Their doctrine is too conservative and they themselves are too impersonal for my tastes. 

Regardless of size of congregation, there are two other kinds of churches that just aren't for me:

-The church that only talks about all of the various behaviors and attributes that will land you in Hell. This is the "Angry God" church. The outside world is angry enough, thank you.

-The church that says "Be as overly aggressive and self-serving as you like, as long as you come here on Sunday (Implied if not said: "And give us a lot of your money"). These churches exist so greedy people can sleep at night. Hey, we're all greedy to some extent, but I prefer my greed mixed with a little remorseful insomnia.

Faith, or lack thereof, is a very personal thing. For the most part this blog will continue to be profane and profoundly stupid. More filth is on the way!

Ok, looks like Lindsay is having the last laugh...and other concerns

-Lindsay Lohan is only going to have to serve about two weeks in jail for a string of minor crimes that would have sent you to the big house for a million years. Why? Because she was a celebrity in 2004 and you weren't, that's why. Silly non-celebrities and your fucking questions.


And not only does Lindsay only have to serve a fraction of a normal person's sentence, she gets to do it in a space that's more like a hotel room than a prison. Her incarceration includes a television, a private phone, a full-sized bed, and personal guards. Really? Really, Los Angeles? There are law-abiding, hard working citizens who don't have such nice things! Almost none of us have personal guards. Wouldn't it be awesome to have your own hired goons to push your way through crowds and rough up potential nay sayers? You don't have that, and you work for a living and/or don't run into shit with your car when you're all fucked up.


So, taxpayers of bankrupt California, enjoy paying for Lindsay Lohan's vacation. Also, I'm going to have to insist that her vagina be sewn shut. It would be like condemning an old, dangerous building. Sometimes you have to take extreme action in the interest of public safety.


-I was thinking of seeing Inception, but then I found out it was rated PG-13. What a puss out! Go "R" or go home, bitch. Inception is basically about a guy who enters people's dreams. If someone straight out of nowhere just entered your dream, you'd probably be all "Get the cocksucking fuck out of my dream, cuntface!" You'd used "R" rated language. You wouldn't be throwing around damns, hells and shits like some twat in a PG-13 movie, that's for sure.


And nothing is worse than a PG-13 comedy. They always seem to star Tim Allen, Kevin James, a talking baby, or some combination of the three. 


-Well, the title of this post is a giant lie, because there was only one other "concern". Singular. My apologies.

LeBron takes a meeting

Let's take a look inside the offices of LeBron James, INC to see what The Man Who Destroyed Cleveland is up to.


Personal Assistant
"Let me say first of all how dapper you look in that shirt. Is that gingham?"


LeBron
"Yeah, how did you know?"


Personal Assistant
"I worked at JC Penny's to pay for college. But that's not important right now. Are you ready to go over the agenda, sir?"


LeBron
"Yeah, I guess so."


Assistant
"What's wrong, sir?"


LeBron
"I was booed at a wedding the other day."


Assistant
"No, no...I saw the tape. They weren't booing, they were saying Le-Boo-ron."


LeBron
"Yeah, ok...that makes sense to me."


Assistant
"I'm sure it does, Mr. James."


LeBron
"Man, you've been my assistant for seven years. You don't have to call me Mr. James. Call me Mr. LeBron James."


Assistant
"Ok, uh...Mr. LeBron James...our first order of business is your cell phone service. We're cancelling with Sprint and going with AT&T."


LeBron
"Fine, but let's announce the change on ESPN."


Assistant
"Pardon me?"


LeBron
"We could do an hour show, donate the proceeds to charity of course, and I can explain how I've given all of my heart and soul to Sprint, and they should feel privileged to have had me as a customer all these years; but now LeBron James is ready to take his talents to AT&T."


Assistant
(muffled sigh) "I'll see what I can do. And do you want the proceeds to go to the Boys and Girls Club, as usual?"


LeBron
"No, they're old news. I sent the Boys and Girls Club a detailed message telling them the LeBron James gravy train has come to an end and I'll be taking my guilty conscience money to the Salvation Army. Oh, that reminds me...I want you to send a copy of that message to every media outlet in the entire world."


Assistant
"Yeah....are you sure that's a good idea, letting the media know you've ungracefully ended your association with a children's charity?"


LeBron
"You're right, man. See, this is why I keep you around. That's small time and you know it. Let's get American Airlines Arena, sell tickets and say it's for charity, and I'll invite a rep from the Boys and Girls Club. I'll fake like I'm giving him one of those big-ass oversized charity checks, and then I'll rip the check up and tell him to get the fuck out of there."


Assistant
"Ha. Good one, sir."


LeBron
"No, I'm serious. Then while everyone laughs at his no-check-havin' ass, I'll give the real check to the Salvation Army. Then maybe Dwayne Wade and Chris Bosh can pop out of a giant Salvation Army kettle or something."


Assistant
"That's really just terrible."


LeBron
"Whatever. Make it happen, piss boy. I'm going to go break up with my girlfriend live on the Lifetime Network."

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Lindsay Lohan, pictured here looking crazy, was sentenced to 90 days in jail yesterday. Why? For violating her probation on a million separate occasions, that's why.


You see, if Lindsay wasn't a "celebrity" and her many, many trials weren't in Los Angeles, she would have spent time in jail years ago. Maybe she would have gotten her shit together and still have a career. 


But none of that happened, so Lindsay continued to drive drunk, shoplift and miss court appointments like it was her job. I take that back...she was much more committed to a hazy life of intoxicated motor vehicle operation and petty theft than any acting job that paid her a small fortune. Now she can't get work because she is moody, unreliable and addicted to booze and every drug known to man.


For those of you keeping score at home, this post begins Phase Four of its Lindsay Lohan Progression. Here's a quick review of the phases thus far:


Phase One - Lindsay peaked personally and professionally in 2004. Since this blog debuted in 2005, early Lohanian posts noted that while her Mean Girls costars were still curvy and hot, Lindsay looked like a contestant on Extreme Makeover: Concentration Camp Survivor Edition.


Phase Two - This is also known as "the compassion phase" by people with far too much time on their hands. Lindsay had sunk so low that I declared her off limits from my vicious, unfair ridicule. This self-imposed ban actually lasted a few years.


Phase Three - After watching Lindsay continually break the law and get away with it because Los Angeles judges are moronic starfuckers, I decided to start making fun of her again. It felt good, I'll admit.


Phase Four - We are now in "the schadenfreude phase" 'cause they're finally putting the bitch on ice. I have a feeling Lindsay's next role will be "guard's favorite". 


What will Phase Five be? Will it be self-righteous indignation when Lindsay only serves one hour of her 90-day sentence? Will it be insincere remorse when  her ashy corpse is recovered from a Hollywood gutter? Stay tuned to find out.

This will be my 986th post...

986 posts. That's a lot of self-indulgent horseshit. I barely manage to blog once a week these days, but when this "project" was called Viva Las Vegass I'd pollute the internet with my opinions almost every day. Those were the salad days, as H.I. McDunnough would put it.

I'm going to try to get to the magic 1,000 posts; hell, I might even go past that number, but I can't guarantee when that will happen. I write when the mood strikes and it hasn't done much striking lately. Usually I'll think of something brief and half-assed so I'll put it where "brief" and "half-assed" live and breathe, Facebook.

A lot of people who are much cooler than me gave up blogging a long time ago. The blog is the first generation Ipod of the information age, I suppose. But twitter does nothing for me, man! I don't just want to know what you had for breakfast. I want to know what you were thinking as you ate! 

So this blog will continue like the bar band that should have broken up when the original bass player died playing flag football. Maybe some of you will occasionally show up for a gig and applaud politely.