It's A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood...Or Is It?

About 8 years ago or so, I used to work with a guy named Yoelly in Oakland. Yoelly was a good guy and we had a lot of laughs but he had a red hot fiery temper. But you would never know it looking at him.

On the surface he seemed like the mild mannered Clark Kent until you did something to piss him off. Then, watch out as he turns two shades of purple and the vein on his temple starts throbbing.

Yoelly and I worked together for twelve years and we amassed many funny stories, but none as priceless as this one.

Yoelly had recently purchased a new Chevy Cavalier and was for the most part happy with the car until the car started falling apart on him about a year or so after he bought it. Then, for the next year, it seemed like there was always something wrong with it and I really was surprised that he refrained from rolling it into the Allegheny River. He would start having major problems with the car that the dealership seemed to always insist were beyond coverage of the warranty.

The car was wearing on Yoelly, but after the 3rd or 4th major repair, he had a window of time where the car seemed just fine and I think Yoelly was finally starting to settle in with the car.

Then on the ride home from work one day on 5th avenue, while waiting for a traffic light, a vehicle violently back ended him and Yoelly exploded. He gets out of his car and starts hurling "motherfucker" this and "stupid motherfucker" that at the other car. He looks at his Cavalier's rear end and the damage is considerable.

In a rage, and admittedly, wanting to kill the person in the other car, he stalks back to the offending party and as the window is rolling down exclaims..."You stupid motherfucking asshoooo........l...e."

It was Mister Rogers. Yup, good old Fred Rogers that you, me, and Yoelly grew up with in the land of make-believe behind the wheel of the other car.

Yoelly was speechless. And then he started to apologize profusely.

"I can't believe I called Mister Rogers a motherfucking asshole right to his face", Yoelly recanted with his head drooped low to us the next day when we showed up for work. "I didn't know who it was...I felt so horrible when I realized who it was...what could you say after that?"

Of course, I laughed my ass off as did just about everybody else listening to the story after the initial mortification wore off.

Turns out that the WQED studio where Fred worked was right down the road and Fred seemed to have a history of poor driving as he got older. Yoelly got the impression that this was one of more than a few recent accidents he had in that area.

Yoelly called a childhood icon a "motherfucking asshole".

Now that Mister Rogers is deceased, somehow I wonder if on stormy nights while sleeping if Yoelly can hear the voice of Henrietta Pussycat in the wind saying "meow, meow...no,...you're the meowthefucking asshole...meow,meow".


Help! My Girlfriend Thinks I'm Lance Bass!

My girlfriend, Tay, and I have a long running disagreement. She claims that she writes emails to me that are full of terms of endearment (especially hugs and kisses) and that I usually respond to them with a grunt and a monosyllabic 6 word response.

The first time she told me this, I scratched my head and could not honestly remember sending out such a thoughtless email response. The next day, I checked the email chain. My response to her seemed absolutely fine and appropriate. It contained about 10-12 sentences and the email began with a term of endearment ("babycakes").

The next time we got together, I told her that she was out of her mind and that my response was totally fine. She balked but we just agreed to disagree.

Then came this week. She sends an email saying she missed me (I was out of town) and ends the email with a smiley face with lips emoticon and hugs and kisses. I responded to her and told her that I missed her too and told her that I was looking forward to seeing her.

I get an email back that she wanted a returned "kiss" or "hug".

Then she got a six word monosyllabic response, "are you nuts? that's so gay".

She sent another email saying that she needed a hug or kiss. I emailed back that she'd have to wait for the real thing.

When I got back in town, she asked me why I couldn't just give her an email hug or kiss.

"Because I am a man and I'm not gay. In general, men don't use emoticons or send hugs or kisses at the end of their emails."

"What???, you just couldn't put a kiss at the end of the message, honey?"

"Do I look like a fag to you? Basically, you have three choices.

1) become a lesbian (like on "Fried Green Tomatoes") and I'm sure your girlfriend will satisfy all your emotional needs all the time,

2) date an effeminate guy, who embraces his feminine side and he can ***hug hug kiss kiss*** you all you want. Chance are, he won't be able to deliver the goods (if you know what I mean), but I'm sure he'll be a real sweetheart until you find him in your bed one day going "brokeback" with the cabana boy, or

3) grin and bear it and deal with the fact that in some ways I'm a neanderthal and stop trying to turn me into a fag.

"But I missed you and all I needed was a hug or kiss"

"I knew it. You are crazy just like every other woman in the world. You are absolutely certifiable. I guess it's alright if I'm away banging some skank as long as while I'm doing it, I'm typing you up a few hugs and kisses to get you through the day. C'mon, you're being ridiculous."

"Why is it such a chore for such a simple thing?"

"Because it's not me and it would be disingenuous"

Disclaimer: The previous story uses the term "fag" in a strictly Venezuelan fashion loosely translated as "less than or not manly" and not homosexual. I apologize for the use of the term for anyone offended. I am of South American descent and my English is barely passable.

Are there any other men out there that want to rally to my defense? Do your women demand the same from you guys or am I being totally unreasonable?


Please Don't Feed the Bears...er...I Mean, the Homeless?

This Fox News webpage story ran today about a new Las Vegas law making feeding the homeless in parks illegal.

Are you kidding me? What kind of crazy fucked up world are we living in when lawmakers have nothing better to do than to write such unconstitutional and undefendable bullshit laws?

So, let me get this straight. It's okay to sit on a park bench with sunflower seeds and feed the birds, but if some desperately hungry homeless person approaches you, it is unlawful to share your sandwich with them?

Now, the law has been written to dissuade mobile food kitchens from feeding the homeless in park areas. Supposedly the parks are unusable by the rest of the "well fed" citizens due to the abundance of transients who congest the park for feeding time. To have such a law on the books at all is unbelievable.

Where exactly, the homeless should go for their meals is not covered in the article. One can only assume that it is preferential to let them go hungry or make them walk miles for a meal.

Isn't the real problem, why the existence of so many homeless in the first place? Not whether we choose to feed them or give them money. If I want to split my lunch with a homeless person and a cop came up to me and cite me for it, I'd tell him (or her), to go fuck themselves. Isn't this a free country, after all? How the hell does the government get off telling me that I can't feed my fellow man if I choose to do so? Get your fat legislative asses off your chairs and try to find alternatives to solving the homeless problem instead of telling me what I can and can't do. You can't solve the homeless dilemma, so you transfer that responsibility onto me?

So, after I get done reading that story, do I happen upon a PETA story and their lamentations on why the US isn't doing more to evacuate "American" animals from Beirut, Lebanon. Apparently, the evacuation vessels are not letting people bring their family pets with them.

Are you kidding me? We're trying to pack as many people as possible on ships and people are wondering why it would be a bad idea to fill the ship with cats, dogs, birds and god knows what else? This is a life or death situation. Either get on the fucking boat sans pets or have a nice life in Beirut. Time is of the essence. You have a naval blocade that is preventing supplies (mainly food) from reaching Beirut and people going without basic services, including clean water etc... and we're worrying about jamming pets on rescue boats?

Let PETA rent a cruise liner to travel to Beirut after all Americans have been evacuated and let them send off their cadre of half starved vegetarian bimbos and fat lazy yenta enclave to round up the pets while bombs are dropping. If you people love animals so much, go put your life on the line for them and don't ask US Marines to put theirs on the line for your stupid cause. If there is only one way out of the war zone, last I checked, you don't have many choices. You have innocent people in Lebanon dying, who want no part in this war and are caught in the middle. You have thousands of Canadian families still waiting for their government to evacuate them. Fight for them to get on boats to safety, not fucking dogs and cats!

They should have offered bags with 20 lb weights at the port for people to put their pets into, tie off the bag and drop right into the ocean.

I wonder what PETA would have thought of that???

Stories like these make me wonder how our world became so retarded. But I already know what the answer is. People having way too much time on their hands and no real life issues to deal with on a daily basis. Spoiled, sheltered brats without any sense of priority. God, I fear for this country if we ever had a major crisis. I think that more than half of the population would curl up and die without a fight.


PNC Park Wants Out of Pittsburgh!

Pittsburgh's Ballyard rumored to be heading to NYC where it will surely host 3 New York Mets World Series games.

I wonder if this means the Pirates will start playing indoors at the Mellon arena after the Penguins move out? They can build Green Monsters in all outfields since they won't need too much seating capacity since they suck so bad.

Another fine article by the folks at The Onion. Classic!


Er glaubt, das Gras wachsen zu hören!

If all of my friends were all turned into cats, can anyone guess which friend this would be?

Take a real close look!

Props to Beukey for providing the the site link for this picture.

"He thinks he's the cat's meow", and has been known to clown around in bad teeth and ride on the short bus. Of course if he was turned into a cat, he'd be allergic to himself.

"Mein Fuhrer!............ I can walk!!!"


Miss Independent?...Miss Plagiarism Has "Come Undone"!

Every once in a while a song comes out that is a big hit and you could swear that you have heard it before. Such was the case when Kelly Clarkson put out "Miss Independent" after her American Idol appearances.

Please forgive me, I don't watch the show, so I have no idea if she actually won or not. I do kinda dig her voice and I have to admit that I do actually like the song. I have it on my Ipod.

But, my main point is that when this song came out, I could have sworn that I had heard the signature chorus before (begins with "what is this feeling taking over?"), and it just kept haunting me that this song was either a remake or ripped off from another tune. To this day, I get the same feeling from No Doubt's "Don't Speak" and its' chorus. I swear Gwen Stefani and the boys lifted it from another song. But back to Miss Clarkson, Plagey McPlagerson.

Yesterday, I finally heard the song that Clarkson ripped her chorus from. And, it was an 80's tune just like I suspected. This was why I was unable to promptly place the song. I'm not a huge fan of 80's pop, unlike my buddy Hamdog. It's a Duran Duran tune to boot. It's called "Come Undone" and also is a pretty catchy tune with the same catchy chorus albeit different words (begins with "can't ever keep from falling apart") and also sung by a woman with almost identical syllabic inflection.

Now, both songs in their entirety have a different feel and sound to them, but the choruses are eerily familiar. If Kelly didn't directly rip Duran Duran off, she obviously had "Come Undone" stuck somewhere in her subconscience. If you remotely care, have a listen, and judge for yourself.

Finally, I could put the bug that's been crawling around in my brain about "Miss Independent" out of its' misery. Now if I can only remember where I heard the "Don't Speak" chorus from, I'll be a happy man. This stuff drives me crazy!


Proof That God Loves Me

Benjamin Franklin once stated that "Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy", or some permutation of that phrase anyway.

I received proof that God loves me on May 10, 2000. On that magical day, my divorce was finalized.

No, you are not going to hear a bitter rant about my ex-wife or that how my divorce was a beautiful thing. Let's face it, divorce is an ugly, painful and humbling experience that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Especially when children are involved. You just try your best to keep the children you love out of the line of fire. And that isn't easy unless you are willing to swallow a little self-righteousness. Divorce isn't about right or wrong, it's about survival after the fact.

What made the day one of beauty was the poetic justice involved and the proof to me to this day that the phrase "You reap what you sow", is probably the truest quotes ever spoken.

You see, I woke up on that morning and dreaded everything about it. A trip to my lawyer's office in which she was going to negotiate the terms of divorce with my ex, Mothra and her lawyer, who were thankfully sequestered in another room. As the lawyers went back and forth with proposal after proposal, I let my lawyer know that the only thing I really cared about was to have shared custudy of my kids. The financial side to me, was of substantially, less importance. I thought that I was going to get a fight on the custody issue. I did not at all. But as the hours wore on into the afternoon and early evening, I made a seemingly endless series of financial concessions, much to my lawyer's chagrin. I was ecstatic that I got the shared custody without a fight, so why would I fight for a hundred dollars here, a thousand bucks there, when I was paying a lawyer $200 an hour to haggle all day?

But the process was taking forever and I was starting to worry about getting to see my girls that evening. I was supposed to pick them up at 5pm and here it was nearly 6pm and I still had an hour to drive.

There was one last item to be resolved and I don't wish to get into the specifics, but I didn't want to budge because this last concession would have been ridiculous and have far reaching financial implications. After my ex threatened to walk out without the resolution and after "motherfucking" my lawyer and her own lawyer, our lawyers finally decided to put us together in a room and resolve the last issue, which thankfully was done quickly.

I walked out of the building a "free" man but honestly, I felt pretty hollow. I was happy that my shared custody of the kids was in place and that's all I really cared about. I was pretty much in financial ruin, but, who isn't after a divorce?

I got into my car and began the trek up north to visit my children. As I drove, I realized that I had only a sandwich for lunch and had nothing to drink but a few small cups of water out of a water cooler all day. Since I was late, the babysitter would have already fed the girls, so I was probably going to take them to the park to play.

I decided to stop along the way and grab something quick from Wendy's in Cranberry, PA.

I was dying of thirst mainly. I was also craving a spicy chicken sandwich, so I asked for a combo with Dr. Pepper. That's when the voice in the speaker asked me the question that offered proof of God's love."Do you want to Biggie size that?"

Usually, nine times out of ten, I say "no thanks". But that day, I was so thirsty, that all I could think about was that massive cup of Dr. Pepper. I was so thirsty, I dreamed of kneeling in a rubber kiddie pool and pouring pitcher after pitcher of Dr. Pepper over my head and naked body, drenching my nipples and quenching my desire for....uh, I think I got off the path there for a second. Anyway, you get the picture. I was extremely thirsty and told the gal, "Yes, that would be fine".

As I pulled away with my dinner, I almost immediately drank about half the soda. The tension of the day started to wash out of me and I was only about ten minutes from the girls. All was starting to come together. I ate the spicy chicken sandwich and was feeling pretty good. I looked down at the huge carton of fries and noticed a pulltab game piece on it. Apparently, they were only on Biggie size drinks and fries. I pulled the tab on the drink and it was a loser. Big surprise there, huh? I didn't need a pull tab to tell me what a loser I already felt like.

Then I pulled the tab on the fries."Universal Studios Orlando Trip", it said.

No, it can't possibly be that I won anything. I threw the pull tab on the passenger side floor and went to play with my girls. As usual, we had a blast and I was very happy that the day ended on such a positive note.

About ten or so days went by when I was watching TV one saturday and saw a Wendy's commercial. It was promoting the grand prize of a 4 day VIP family trip for four to Universal Studios with accomodations at the Portofino Bay Hotel. I remembered the pull tab.

I went out to the car and looked through the passenger side area and thank god I hadn't cleaned it out in two weeks. There was the pull tab. It had a phone number on it. I went inside and dialed it and got a prize line with information on how to proceed in claiming my prize. I still couldn't believe it and couldn't reach a human being to verify it. I sent a certified letter to the address with the pull tab, keeping a copy for myself. Three weeks went by and I had forgotten all about it until I received a letter in return verifying that I was a grand prize winner.

Now, on any other day, I would have never stopped at that Wendy's. I would have taken my girls to dinner closer to their home. and if I did, I probably would not have Biggie sized the order.

As it turned out, I called my sister Siouxsy and invited her to join us on our trip to Florida. The five of us had a wonderful time and we even extended the vacation two days to take the girls to Disneyland as well. Not lost on me, was how something so wonderful came out of something so painful. I realized that everything was going to be alright and that God was sending me a sign that the future was going to be sunny.

My daughters and I continue to make that trip to Florida evey few years.Now if I could only find a rubber kiddie pool and a case of 2 liter bottles of Mr. Pibb...

Israel +10 Over the Entire Middle East

Yup, the Palestinians, and the Syrian terrorists running Lebanon are finding out why the Jews are a touchdown and a field goal favorites over the rest of the Middle East (including Syria and Iran). Granted, Iraq and Afghanistan are on injured reserve and Egypt and Jordan were lost to free agency in order to distance themselves from radical extremists.

And people are yelling for the US to do something.

My vote is that we do nothing. We just let Israel purge years of frustration on bombing these idiots that like to launch rockets into Israel and use suicide bombers to kill innocent civilians. You can make the argument that the Middle East is also filled with innocent civilians, but at what point does sitting on your hands and not trying to solve your country's problems with extremists make you guilty?

Not only do I think that Israel could probably conquer the entire Middle East but maybe it's time they did just that. The pansy EU comes out with a statement that Israel's response isn't justified by the actions against them. Enough is enough. I'm surprised that Israel took this long to open up a can of whoop ass.

We've asked them nicely to turn the other cheek for years. It's time for them to do some slapping. Enjoy your well deserved beating, extremist morons.


Introducing the "You're Giving Me Cancer" T-Shirt!

I talked with my sister, Vicki, tonight and she assures me that she is the original author of this saying. She firmly believes that stress is the main cause of cancer, hence the phrase (that is mainly uttered towards her two sons).

So, I finally broke down and designed a simple shirt on Zazzle for myself and ordered one. If anyone else is interested, feel free to order one or customize it to your liking. Since I use this saying twenty times a day now, it seemed fitting that I make a shirt. I put the website link to the blog on the back of my shirt, but the shirt is cheaper without it. Feel free to leave the back blank or add your own message.

Zazzle also offered a design for a coffee cup with the same message with a "bluey" interior. Unfortunately, I don't drink coffee.

Any royalties or proceeds from Zazzle will be split between my sister and the American Cancer Society. Enjoy!



"Why Is Everybody So Fucking Stupid!"

Kim Jong Il said it best in Trey Parker/Matt Stone's Team America: World Police.

What does it take to do a little sabre rattling to put this "asshole" into place? It's good to see Japan growing some gonads and finally putting it's "Flower Power US written constitution" to the test and to start considering pre-emptive strikes on North Korean missle batteries. All the US would have to do is to nudge Japan into re-militarizing, and North Korea and China would both be quaking in their boots.

China should seriously consider joining the Film Actors Guild (F.A.G., oops, I think I just joined Ozzie Guillen in making insensitive homosexual remarks) for their pansy ass stance on North Korea. Nothing like letting global politics getting in the way of doing the right thing.

I think I saw an EW article about actor, Arec Barwdwin, hopping a plane to Pyongyang to aid peace efforts. C'mon China, vote for the sanctions and make Kim Jong Il a little more "ronery".

And don't forget to run out and watch one hell of a funny movie, Team America: World Police. It is a goldmine of funny lines.

"Derka, derka islamic jihad derka."

and I'll leave you with my favorite nuggets from the deleted scenes...

[Deleted Scene] Spottswoode: Team, this is all my fault. I was overzealous in Cairo. I let racism cloud my judgment. I was so sure the ultimate terrorist was Middle Eastern, but I didn't realize he was a goddamn Gook. I'll never be a racist again.

[Deleted Scene] Gary Johnston: I'm leaving. I'm out.
Spottswoode: No, Gary! You can't leave! We need you now, more than ever!
Gary Johnston: Don't you see what's going on out there? Everyone hates us!
Spottswoode: Hey, now, everyone hated Winnie the Pooh, too.
Gary Johnston: No, they didn't!
Spottswoode: Well, I did. That cocksucking bear killed Jack Kennedy!


Missed The Fireworks? Stay Away From The Bright Light!

I don't know about the rest of you, but my Fourth of July evening consisted of pretty much a downpour of rain. Tay and I decided to go see her local fireworks display that was slated to begin at 10 pm. We drove down and parked for a few minutes before we started wondering if they could even shoot off the fireworks in such miserable weather. But, neither of us could remember ever seeing 4th of July fireworks cancelled either.

We noticed that there were a few other parked cars, so we sidled up to one and rolled down our window. It was a cute older couple, probably in their 70's. We asked about the fireworks and they told us that they were there for the show as well but that they heard that the fireworks were not to begin until after the local minor league baseball game.

We drove back to our spot, and after a few minutes I say to Tay, "There's no chance in hell, anybody is playing baseball in this downpour. I don't think the shrivs know what's going on.
Lets go get slushies and come back and wait".

So we get slushies and come back to our spot, open up the back of the vehicle and sit in the back and drink our slushies. After about 20-30 minutes, a car stops and indicates that the ballfield, that sits atop a hill, is deserted and that they just turned off all the lights. I guess we're not going to see a fireworks show after all. I turn towards the car with the elderly couple and then I turn to Tay and utter the following sentence.

"I guess we should go over there and tell them that they're going to have to stay alive another year if they want to see fireworks."

Tay laughs but is horrified.

"I guess that statement pretty much earns my ticket to hell, if I didn't already have one".

"I don't think that you're going to hell. I think that you'll go to heaven but you won't have all the priveledges that other people will have in heaven", Tay reassures.

And then I could picture the scene up in heaven at the pearly gates...

"Okay, I'm here and I'm ready for my wings, Saint Peter".

Jesus himself vaporizes out of thin air next to Saint Peter.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"What? Jesus, I didn't know that you cursed".

"Are you fucking kidding me?", he repeats. "You've got some gall showing up at these gates and expecting to get into heaven".

"What?...I was a pretty good person and a great father. Doesn't that count for anything?"

"Do you recall this scene? (and we are taken back to the scene where I just told Tay about the shrivs planning on living another year in order to see fireworks) Your life is chock full of scenes and your insensitive remarks to others."

"C'mon Jesus, I was just having a little fun"

"You see those goddamn escalators that go down? Get your fat ass on them and take a trip where you belong. I can't fucking believe that you had the nerve to show up here. I'm sure they got a gold plated parking space with your name on it, right in the front next to the crip spaces".

"The crip spaces!...pretty funny, Jesus!"

"Okay, okay...pretend I sent you to the escalator and come around to the back gates in about 15 minutes. But don't think that you're getting all the priviledges"

"Okay, I'll only bang the skanky angels. Thanks, Jesus...you the man!

"Sweet Salavation!

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