When I'm not working, sleeping or eating I'm doing this (totally work safe BTW). Or at least making plans for the next time I can make it to the Tail of the Dragon. more...

Posted by: shank at 06:04 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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I'm not the kind of guy who gets hung up on convuluted morality or religious doctrine. If you want to stay in bed on the Sabbath instead of...doing...whatever it is any given church might expect you to do, I don't have a problem with that. If you're pro-choice or pro-life, I don't care. And if you don't want to eat unclean animals or drink beer, that's fine too. I mean, you might be missing out on the glory that is an ice cold Bud Light and a handful of spicy pork rinds; but I'm totally cool with that.

However, I hold a special place in my heart for liars and thieves. Understand here, that I'm talking about pure liars and thieves too. Not someone who downloads free music or sneaks into a movie theater. I'm referring to Ken Lay, Micah Wright, anyone who's ever broken into my home (even that bastard that stole my bike when I was like 14), and cheating spouses. Granted, if you're going to cheat on your wife or masquerade as an armed services vet; I'm not neccesarily going to get worked up about it. I will, however, reserve for you the lowest of regards; and may attempt to kick your ass, depending (variably) on proximity and drunkedness.

Why? Because liars and thieves represent the worst outcome of what many consider to be a noble species. Whether you agree with the whole 'noble man' thing is up to you I suppose, considering man's propensity for violence. Considering that though, violence is a somewhat natural and universal horror - all animals are capable of and exhibit it on occasion. Lieing and stealing, on the other hand, decieve with the intent to control or possess - two urges that many animals (with exception to survival of the fittest) have no appetite for. Granted, animals will lure in prey or fight over food supply - but those are survival conditions. In the cases I'm referring to; humans lie, cheat, and steal because they're greedy, manipulative fucks. They're furthering their political agenda, they're attempting to skim millions (in addition to their multi-million dollar salary) from pensions, or they're taking shit just because they can. And that last one is probably the worst reason to do anything. But that's probably a whole 'nother post.

Posted by: shank at 04:36 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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Whenever the Germans accumulate in large numbers you have to be careful. It must be something in the blood.

HereÂ’s the interesting part:

“Cologne’s police chief confirmed that the incidents had been sparked by a group of known German football hooligans who were drinking in the Kulisse bar on the Café Alter Markt. Klaus Steffenhagen told The Times: “Our spotters recognised 30 category C football hooligans, some from Cologne and some from other parts of Germany.”

Spotters recognized thirty “category C” hooligans? Have they so many hooligans that they have them categorized? And not only do they have a shitload of hooligans, obviously of varying degrees, but they can recognize thirty of them in a crowd!

Do these people list “Hooligan” as their occupation on tax returns and whatnot? Yeah, I do like to use the word hooligan, so sue me. It’s because I’m fascinated. I wonder where the “category A” hooligans hang out?

***Shank's Update***

An explanation of the hoologan rating system.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 08:41 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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Jennifer Aniston has been on my list for about ten years. This morning I finally got a look at her ass. Scroll down past the Ryan Seacrest gay debate and you canÂ’t miss it. ItÂ’s a clip from The Break-up.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 07:03 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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The other day I posted my feelings about New Orleans, which can be found here. A guy named Jaime from New Orleans took issue with what I had to say and left a comment, more of a post actually, about the situation down there.

I found it to be an eye-opener in many ways. ItÂ’s so well executed that IÂ’m posting it here because I think it needs to be read. IÂ’m not going to put it italics as itÂ’s too distracting for a long a piece, but here it is verbatim:

"I would venture a guess that you never left the French Quarter? You are talking a 10 X 10 block area give or take. I lived in Chicago for 3 years. I know all about Downtown and Michigan Ave. but I can’t tell you a thing about Evanston or most of the rest of the area. People from all over the world come here to “party”. It has been a few years now but I have had my own late nights in the French Quarter. I have seen what you are talking about. If you were here for Mardi Gras, Superbowl, Jazz Fest or southern decadence it was most likely a bit worse than normal. For the most part – that is not us…. It’s tourists. They come here and think of the French Quarter as some kind of adult Disneyland – they do things they would never do at home. I used to work in the convention industry and one time I had dinner with a production team from out of town and was walking them back to their hotel. On Bourbon St. there were some girls up on a balcony lifting their shirts for beads and drawing quite a crowd. On of the head honchos said “you people are just crazy down here”. I gave him a look and said “It’s August, those girls are from Michigan or Virginia or some other place like that – they are not from New Orleans.” We made a bet; I asked and won $10 bucks – easy money. The answer was Georgia. It is not fair to look at the quarter and think of us that way. It’s like visiting Graceland and thinking you know all about Memphis.

The other problem with your thinking is that right now we are not an American city. We are a shell of what used to be a city in what is evidently, by many, not actually considered to be part of America (I don’t understand that but it comes off that way too many times). Most of the houses are still unoccupied – many people have never returned and most of the residents that have come back live someplace other than where they were a year ago. We have what amounts to 120 square miles of urban ghost town the likes of which have never been seen before, anywhere. I saw Colin Powell make a speech this month at the dedication of the National WWII museum / awards ceremony for some standout 1st responders. During his keynote he said that he had seen many types of distruction before. He has been through a lot of war zones and has seen several major disaster sites (his last official visit overseas was Indonesia after the tsunami’s). Just like every one else he had closely followed the coverage of Katrina on television. Nothing in his experience had prepared him for what he had just seen while touring the devistation within his own country. That was a few weeks ago, more than 9 months after the levee’s broke. To get back to my point – this is a little different than dealing with crime in an American city for a number of reasons.

You say “we’re not talking about stealing anymore…” but we are. Looting is called burglary again but it is still looting. One of my in-law’s neighbors in Lakeview has been killing himself trying to get his house into shape so his wife and kids could return home once the school year ended. He had finally finished and the day before the move he discovered there was no water. A quick inspection revealed that his entire plumbing system had been stolen for the copper pipes. That’s another deduction from insurance and at least another month without his family and who’s to say it won’t happen again. As fast as people can get appliances delivered they are being stolen. Another big thing is stealing the architectural details that make New Orleans unique. Shutters, pocket doors, mantles, crown molding, decorative ironwork, gingerbread details and other such things are vanishing right before our eyes. You can’t sell the shutters for much but they cost over $300 each to replace. Vultures (many from out of town) are picking us to pieces and it has to stop so we can move on.

There is no one to see suspicious activity and report it so it continues. That takes a lot of patrolling – much more than could ever be done by a police force under normal circumstances. That is what the guard has been called in to do. To help safeguard our personal reconstruction - Thank God!

Now, on to violent crime. Along with the many, many good people that have come back we also have the scum. Some are home grown and some are imports but they are here fighting for turf and power in the ever-popular drug trade. Most of the murders are gang bangers killing each other off for an edge in what basically amounts to an open market. All of the lines that had been drawn between gangs were washed away and the age old game has started from scratch. You are right when you say it is tombstone. No city has ever faced 5 or 10 or maybe even 20 rival gangs all in a rebuilding mode at once. Picture what it would be like if all the mafia bosses had to start their “family buisnesses” again from scratch. It would not mean a hit or two – it would be scores of them. That is what we are going through. The members just need an empty house to set up shop (we have plenty of those) and then they just start fighting. . Our police need to concentrate hard on this so it can be stopped before it gathers more momentum.

You say that things are picking back up. It depends on what corner you are talking about. My in-laws live in their trailer about 50% of the time. There is one other person living on their entire block. Another is there most days working on his house – that’s it. No one lives on the block behind them at all. At my mothers the street is empty as well - it still does not have power. We could not store everything we recovered from her house at our place so we have moved some of it back into the gutted part of the house. I will be glad to have the National Guard in the area. It makes me very nervous that my in-law’s live in a ghost town. If someone showed up and tried to hurt them there would be no one around to hear a thing. I will feel better knowing that the guard will be pass by their house a few times a day as well."

Thanks, Jaime. Very well done and point taken. Hats off to you.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 06:41 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Most people are ineffectual by nature. And by ineffectual I mean lazy, lollygagging dullards. It doesnÂ’t take a lot of effort to surpass them. I suspect an hour a day of solid work is all you need to look better than them.

People who call a lot of meetings fall into these categories:

a.) CanÂ’t or wonÂ’t make their own decisions
b.) Believe in decision by committee
c.) Are out of their league intellectually
d.) Are seeking other people to do the heavy lifting

Most people attending meetings are trying not to take on any action items. Your job is to appear busier and smarter than anyone else in the room without talking too much.

Rule #1: Never be early or late to a meeting.

Too early and you look like youÂ’ve got nothing better to do. Also, people could ask questions that if you answered with the room empty become someone elseÂ’s ideas when the room is full. Being late is never a good idea either.

If you stroll in five minutes early carrying a grande latte or whatever the hell those things are you look like your relaxed and at ease—and that’s not good. You need to look like you’re working your ass off, not standing in line for expensive ersatz coffee.

Rule #2: Ask for an agenda.

How important can a meeting be if thereÂ’s no agenda? A lot of people calling meetings donÂ’t publish one and it makes them look idiotic when you ask. After all, youÂ’re busy and have little time for small talk.

Rule #3: Keep looking at your watch

DonÂ’t overdue it, but you have to look like you have responsibilities and deadlines. I walk around looking like the weight of the world is on my shoulders.

Rule #4: Ask the question

“Who’s going to publish the minutes for this meeting?” It’s always the first thing I ask. By asking who will do it you remove yourself from the equation. It’s also a good idea to let the blowhards know that if they commit to something in that room they will be held to it.

Rule #5: Speak up

Important phrases to use at a meeting:

“I think we’re getting off track here.”
“I think that’s beyond the scope of this meeting.”
“Enough with the abstract, let’s talk about what’s practical.”

The idea is to keep this shit moving, because to most people, a meeting is just a place to sit down and bullshit/pontificate/theorize.

Rule #6: Your opinion

One sentence: “The concept is fundamentally sound.” You really can’t go wrong with that one.

If asked for suggestions I usually let other people speak first and watch the reactions they get. I never look directly at the speaker; I watch the face of the highest ranking officer. If someone starts sinking IÂ’ll usually let them kill themselves unless I smell haughtiness, in which case IÂ’ll jump in and really point out their stupidity.

Rule #7: Things you should never say in a meeting

“I’d like to be more involved with this project.”
“I can expedite some of the paperwork.”
“Jane’s tits can’t possibly be real.”

Need I elaborate?

Rule #8: What not to wear to a meeting

You never want to look too prosperous. Meetings, and the workplace in general, is not a good place to wear a Rolex. Get the idea?

Rule #9: Act like a professional

Gum chewing, pen twirling and leaning back in your chair are not good ideas. Most importantly, for the love of God, donÂ’t keep scratching you head and your ears. You look like youÂ’ve got fucking lice. I sat through a meeting this morning and watched as two separate people dug at their scalp and their ears with total abandon. I was sooo close to screaming at them.

Rule #10: Navigating shallow water

This really entails a full post. Evaluating the battle lines is crucial. Which faction is stronger or more important plays a key part in your strategy. The outcome of most meetings is predetermined anyway. Rarely do people seek honest council in a conference room. The scene played out is usually to reinforce policy or to put pressure on a group to deliver more. Sometimes itÂ’s pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey or hot potato. WhoÂ’s budget is getting hit with what, whoÂ’s to blame for the Mongolian Cluster in Chicago, etc. ItÂ’s best to determine what the purpose of the meeting really is before you get there.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 02:53 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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I went to New Orleans once, about ten years ago. Frankly, I thought it was a seedy shithole. I saw people peeing in alleys in the French Quarter, drunks everywhere and a general disregard human decency.

Let me say that I am not a prude. I enjoy a few drinks. Maybe more than a few on occasion. IÂ’ve been known to visit rowdy establishments, roadhouses and strip joints. And even though I havenÂ’t done those things in quite a few years itÂ’s not because IÂ’m against them, itÂ’s because I outgrew them, more or less. But when I was in New Orleans I saw the worst of the worst. The place was pretty gross.

Then Katrina hit and it was a terrible tragedy. I donated money along with everyone else. Things are picking back up now, but since that fateful event the city is still getting plenty of attention from the media. The result is that people from all over the place are now seeing whatÂ’s always been there.

Now the National Guard has been called in because the fucking place is like 1881 Tombstone, Arizona.

“…five teenagers in an SUV were shot and killed in the city's deadliest attack in at least 11 years. Police said the attack was apparently motivated by drugs or revenge. Also, a man was stabbed to death Sunday night in an argument over beer.”

ItÂ’s hard to believe that that idiot was reelected mayor, but he was. And now he needs to find himself some lawmen because itÂ’s like the wild west.

IÂ’ve been to some wide-open towns before. IÂ’ve partied in places you canÂ’t imagine in both America and overseas, but that place always struck me as being a cesspool. When was the last time the National Guard had to restore order in an American city? Aside from this one? I know what you're going to say. "They don't have as many cops as they used to before the storm." That doesn't mean people have to kill each other. We're not talking about stealing anymore, we're talking about murders.

I’m not one of those people that think NO got what it deserves when that storm hit. I’m not a racist. I’m not a born again—I’m all about debauchery.

I just never liked the place.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 08:56 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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Last week I told my kid IÂ’d get her a little something because her behavior has been so incredibly exemplary lately. Beyond belief, really. Somehow IÂ’ve produced a smart, sweet, quiet kid that never seems to do anything wrong. Very spooky considering my own childhood.

Anyway, on Saturday we went to get her a little something. I still get excited when toy shopping because I still love toys. I was hoping to steer her towards a Lite Brite or something else I could play with.

The first thing you notice in a toy store these days is the complete and utter lack of toy guns. When I was a kid the toy gun aisle was the biggest in the store. I would hang out in that aisle for an hour before making my choice. These days there is no gun aisle and it breaks my heart. And just for the record, even though I played with toy guns throughout my youth, I have never shot anyone with a real gun. That wasnÂ’t asking for it. But I kid. IÂ’m a kidder.

She ended up with some popular little doll figures. I spent an hour trying to get her to change her mind. I stumbled into one aisle that all kinds of games I remembered from my own childhood.

“Look honey, it’s Don’t Spill the Beans!”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a game I used to play when I was your age.”

“I don’t want that. Can we go home now?”

I really wanted it. DonÂ’t Break the Ice was there too and I really wanted them both. After a fruitless attempt at getting her to switch she finally dragged me away. Later that night I told my old lady the story.

“She wasn’t budging from the doll.” I said.

“Don’t Spill the Beans? No shit? You should have gotten it for us! Man, I could really go for a game of that right now.”

This morning she called me at the office about something.

“Are you going anywhere today?” I asked.

“I have to go to Target.”

“You have to get Don’t Spill the Beans!”

“Good idea!”

Hopefully by the time I get home sheÂ’ll have it ready to go. My life is so sad.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 09:13 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Honestly...who doesn't like midget wrestling?

More midget wrestling videos can be found here.

Posted by: Victor at 09:34 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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Why I hate the ballet.

Actually, I donÂ’t hate it, I just donÂ’t enjoy it. ItÂ’s one of those things I just canÂ’t get into. Like German opera and conceptual art.

I can appreciate the ballet. I realize the skill sets and strength required is extreme. I donÂ’t associate it with effeminate men in panty hose. I donÂ’t have any hang-ups about the pomposity of the whole affair (thereÂ’s no denying the pomposity). I just find it repetitive and boring. And the music tends to affect me like Ambien.

The first time I saw the ballet entailed a huge fight with my wife. I just wasnÂ’t interested in putting on my finery and sitting through an extended night of slow string music. I tend to zone out and have surreal, morphine-like daydreams. She won the fight and I was forced to pay an extravagant sum of money for tickets. And on the night of the performance we walked into the place, my wife excited about seeing the Bolshoi or whatever and I desperately hoping they had a bar in the lobby.

The first thing I noticed was the median age of the audience, which I estimate was 94 years old. I elbowed my way to the bar and ordered two drinks, and as an afterthought I asked my wife if she wanted anything. The old people milled about slowly greeting each other. Many of them were carrying opera glasses. I started having flashbacks of the Three Stooges ruining a stuffy affair like this and it broke me from my daze.

When the curtain went up I was absolutely amazed. It wasnÂ’t at all what I expected. In fact it was one of the most amazing things I had ever seen. It was brilliant. The grace and strength of the dancers was breathtaking and I settled in to enjoy the performance. The next act was still pretty amazing but I was getting antsy. After fifteen minutes IÂ’d seen it all. I wasnÂ’t astute enough to notice all the details or anything and the music started to lull me to dreamland. I wanted another drink. I wanted to go home. And most of all I wanted to physically punish the golf clappers.

The scariest part of the whole thing was the makeup the old ladies in the audience wore. A lot of thick, white pancake makeup is not a good look for a 90 year old woman. All thatÂ’s missing is the casket and flowers. Trust me, itÂ’s seriously unsettling.

At intermission I loaded up on scotch. I had seen the ballet. It was amazing all right, but I didnÂ’t have the endurance or the medication needed to sit through another. Since that time I have managed to avoid the expense and punishment of the ballet.

Heed my words.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 09:15 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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Seven minutes of bike crashes; or, "Darwin's Theory of Evolution: The Irrefutable Proof".

Another loser enters the political arena. At least they'll be among peers. Note: PhatFree is an awesome sight, click around; it's hilarious.

And because so many people have expressed interest...

And people say the Internet is a cesspool. Tsk, tsk.

Posted by: shank at 05:16 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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There are times when it becomes painfully obvious to myself that I must look like the biggest child at work. It doesn't help that I'm the youngest by a wide margin, and that I'm one of the only males; but firmly clinching the title of Child in A Man's Body doesn't really bother me too much. I find it funny for the most part.

For instance, my desk is littered with toys. I've got a couple Tanlges, a rubber/bendy thingie, a couple flexible action figures of some cartoon characters, a table-top football setup; and the wall behind my chair is papered with photos from racing events, Vegas trips, and the like.

My wardrobe is probably a joke amongst my co-workers as well. Although I usually where dress shirts and slacks, I only occasioanlly wear a tie or designer shoes; and I only shave like every three or four days. I looked down at my shoes this morning, and as I was coloring in the worn spots on the black leather with a Sharpie I realized that I've had these shoes since I was in college. I mean, I've got a nicer pair of shoes, but I don't want to fuck them up, so I don't wear them every day. If I come to work wearing my Florshiems, a silk tie, and a fresh shave; it means I'm going to be sitting down with the million-dollar club and hashing out strategy. Unfortunately that doesn't happen as often as I'd like; but I'm working to change that.

And then there's my personality: highly informal, colloquial and humorous. I tend to fun around with my higher-ups when most other people wouldn't. Not in a disrespectful manner or anything; some of them just have that open-door type of style and don't mind a little back and forth. Plus, those guys are really funny if you can get them going; so I don't rib them unless they're in that comfortable mode.

So basically when you put all this together, I look like a typical kidployee. I suppose it would strike some people as highly unprofessional behavior - except I tend to produce satisfying results. I get lots of accolades and praise, but part of me wonders if that's just because they don't expect good work from a dude that looks like Shaggy most days. I'm pretty sure the praise is just their way of trying to motivate me to dress more for the office instead of the playground, and for the love of Pete, put the goddamn toys away. Personally? I get a kick out of it.

Posted by: shank at 03:58 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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Since I have nothing of real value to offer:

Al Gore, renowned inventor of the Internet and part-time politician; has decided to take his brand of devastatingly sharp intellect into climatology. Where, apparently, he's been trumped by some people who - well - actually are climatologists.

And remember those debit cards that were handed out by FEMA to displaced Katrina evacuees? Turns out, more than a billion dollars-worth of that loot was spent on porn and debauchery. Sadly, some of us are not surprised.

In health news, head lice have evolved from a mere pest to a super-resistant organism. Hippies everywhere are being forced to either wash their hair, or get carried away by head lice the size of NFL linebackers. Yes folks, it seems Mother Nature herself has found a way to select hippies out of the gene pool - militant lice.

And even though this link is absolutely pointless, I just wanted to say that I can't wait for this woman to fall off the face of the Earth. Or at least walk into traffic and get railroaded by a flaming tanker truck. I mean, how is this even on CNN? She's newly single and this network decides that needs to go on their front page?

Posted by: shank at 04:20 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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To my wife:

On MotherÂ’s Day, you refused to give me a list, insisting that I come up with gift ideas on my own. You know what torture that is for me. Then this week you ask me for a gift list for FatherÂ’s Day. WTF?

Well, here it is, but youÂ’re going to have to work for it. Decipher the clues to find out what I want. One or two of these is enough, some are expensive.

#1. Some stuff is just not available on iTunes. This album was released in November of 1971 by a band that I enjoy and you donÂ’t. Additional clues: croquet, hogweed.

#2. Small bottle of that cologne that I like.

#3. Another CD (double), same band as above. Released in 1974, deals with a tired mammal in NYC. You really hate this one.

#4. Another CD, same band again. Four CD box set released in 1998 and deals with older material only. Careful, I donÂ’t want the three CD box set.

In other news, Shank apparently went on a sugar and booze bender last night and posted like, fourteen times. And in yet other news, IÂ’m still watching this every fifteen minutes or so and laughing myself into coughing fits.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 07:28 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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If Jon Stewart didn't have a staff of writers that could spin gold lace from a pile of dogshit, his career would have peaked in the mid nineties, at the height of his "Shitty, Late Night, Flash-in-the-Pan Flop" period.

Posted by: shank at 10:35 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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I bring you, blog reviews in 15 words or less:

Protein Wisdom: Remember that kid in highschool who was always stoned, but aced those AP classes? Yeah, his name was Jeff Goldstein, and he's breakin' down the science for all your dumbasses.

Instapundit: He started this gangsta shit. Which is why you should read his thought provoking book. Of course, that's IMO; which probably means it's a step above pop-up-books for some of you.

*Random Note* Right now, as I type, the austic kid that lives behind us is whooping it up. Hell, we don't even make that much noise when we come, and we're newlyweds. At least he's having fun. It sounds like he's quite literally bouncing off the walls. Am I missing out on something? That sounds like fun? Do they have a sky bouncer over there or what?

Anyways...

Spinster: The only blogger with a comment-to-view-ratio lower than anyone here, including the three people who blog in this mofo. Even though we comment at her site all the time.

Oorgo: Because the 'Canes are going to bring that trophy back the US, and that's just got to piss off those flip-top head having, beady eyed Canucks.

Well, I know that's lazy, but I'm out of here. It's getting rainy and I want to take my new beater out for a drive in the mud, photos later?

Posted by: shank at 07:09 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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Wiscounsin, huh?

I think the annoying bastard deserves it.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 06:39 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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If I could blog this good, I'd have a 'Beer Fund' tipping jar too. 50 trackbacks? When my ego has a wet dream it doesn't get that good. Some really wasted dude in Iowa is at a bar right now, telling all his friends about how he made beer money on the internet. So at least I know it's possible.

Posted by: shank at 06:33 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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This news report from Alabama (go figure) focuses on a group of people who swear they have a leprechaun living in a neighborhood tree.

ItÂ’s got it all. An amateur drawing, crazy peopleÂ…you really have to see it to believe it.

I literally couldn’t stop crying. Don’t miss the classic line, “I want to know where the gold at.”

This has got to be the funniest thing on the web.

***Update***
I can't stop watching this and shaking with laughter.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 07:31 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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If you're still getting 50% or more of your news and events info from the television; you're just taking in the modern version of Entertainment Tonight. Not only is the majority of it completely irrelevant and partisan (depending on your channel of choice); but watching this crap is the equivalent of choosing to communicate with friends and family via the US Postal Service in lieu of telephone, email, or chatting.

Posted by: shank at 05:51 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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