8:10pm: Jackie - Christ on a bicycle, what is she wearing? Someone raided Minnie Mouse's wardrobe, and from the sound of the voice, I'm guessing it was someone with a trachiotomy.

8:18pm - Rick Braddy. This dude is prematurely balding, and his pro-mo's not exactly accentuating the positive. He sounds like a bad lounge singer. I'm beginning to regret that I didn't stop by the liquor store on my way home. Maybe we've got some crappy vodka around here...

8:30pm - Alexis Grace. What.The.Fuck. I thought this show was about hot people with minimal talent who could be widely marketed to the drooling pop masses. Did they drop the 'hot' part this year and go for broke? On a lighter note, I did manage to find some Smirnoff in the cabinet. No OJ in the fridge, so I figure I'll just mix it directly with the contents of my stomach. At least the contestants will start looking better...

Paula Abdul's rambling like a homeless drunk, and I swear her eyelids are looking lazy. Maybe she's tripping. Wait, was that Ted Danson and Doogie Houser sitting in the front row? Now I think I'm tripping.

8:45 pm - Brent Keith. Oh God, but he's laying it on thick: a country song about poor crackers with pickup trucks and chicks who use White Rain. Are you kidding me? If this guy was from where I live, we'd mount his carcass on a spear Dracul-style when he got kicked off this show. He says he doesn't think that country fans will forget his music, and this is the kind of music he wants to make. If that's what country fans want, they deserve all the ridicule that's heaped on them.

Cut to commerical. This vodka is going down good, but it's making my burps smell like warm garbage. I guess that's what happens when you chase dijon-glazed pork loin and mashed potatoes with low grade swill from a plastic bottle. I'm going to fridge to find something, anything, to make my burps smell better.

Question: If a mousetrap snapped closed on say, a cats paw or tail, would that cause permanent damage?

8:50 - Stevie Wright. The hotness draught continues. Talk about marketable though, that girl should be selling ad space on that forehead of hers. She certaintly shouldn't be singing; if I had to guess I'd say she hasn't even done karaoke before. Damn. The judges are blasting her for sucking so bad, and the audience is booing. Fox must've packed the stage with a field trip from the school for the deaf. Cowell says her performance was so bad "I wanted to punch my own teeth out, fashion a cutting tool out of them, and saw my own bollocks off with it." That may not be exact, but it's pretty close...

8:56pm - Anoop Desai. As a Carolina fan, I've got high standards for this guy even though he looks like a total d-bag. He can sing, but he sounds like Boys II Men circa 1992. The judges are complaining about technical shortcomings with his singing. Dial 6 to vote for unibrow.

Cut to commercial. Hmm. The vodka bottle's looking a little light; and no one's getting any hotter. That's an uncommonly bad omen.

9:04pm - Casey Carlson. The hot draught may be bottoming, but we've got a long climb ahead of us. Talent is still painfully absent in all forms. This chick dances like Elaine Bennis from Seinfeld; and it seems that the judges are avoiding eye contact in hopes that maybe this will all just go away. The judges are passing this poor girl around like a 5-dollar hooker. Paula says "the guys" always say she's beautiful; I would like to respectfully enter my dissenting opinion. She only looks halfway decent because she's following three trolls, The Forehead, Unibrow, and something that looked like an starved wildebeest with pink highlights.

9:18 pm. Michael Sarver. Dude works on an oil rig, so I ain't saying shit about him. Normal people go to the gym each morning before work, but roughnecks get up and put people they don't like into industrial-size plastic shredders and make smoothies from the leavings. I notice the judges are aware of this as well, and adjust their commentary appropriately. The guy sits down on the couch, and Seacrest's panties moisten noticeably.

9:25pm Ann Marie Boskovich. The Wife and I agree that hotness has made its first appearance of the night. And she can sing too? Hey, there's a refreshing idea! Ted Danson's on his feet. The judges give her shit about choosing a difficult song, and she calls them on it; which is a moment of awesomeness that goes relatively unnoticed. Cowell says something absolutely retarded about how the real world is going to be able to tell she's not a true singing talent. Hey Cowell, the refutations of your hypothesis are legion, and one of them is sitting right next to you. Her name is Paula Abdul.

9:35pm - Stephen Fowler. Michael Jackson's music freaks me out, because even though he's singing about a girl, you know in his mind he's thinking about a preadolescent Macaulay Culkin. The singing is okay, the hotness level has begun heading back down. He tries to say that his performance sucked because he's not 100% ready. Newsflash buddy, it's the first week, neither is anyone else. If you make the cut tonight (ROFL) try not to be such a pussy next time.

The vodka is finally gone. I think we've got a bottle of white table wine in the fridge. Can you mix stuff with wine? I think we've got some Apple Pucker in the cabinet. Apples, grapes, they go together right?

9:48pm Tatiana Del Toro. This chick has annoyed me from day one. She's a drama queen with an annoying laugh. She also rolls her R's, but only when she says things like Peurto Rico or something. When I watch her sing, I feel like I'm watching the talent portion of some cheesey pageant competition. I hope she trips on stage, loses control of her bowels, and is shamed into spending the rest of her life in a cardboard box. Cowell agrees with me.

Tatiana then proceeds to talk over Seacrest and plead with the American people to fulfill her dream of being the American Idol. I think she'd make a better Miss Chiquita Banana 2009. Also, wine and Apple Pucker tastes like Kool Aid and hobo piss; but it's better than sobering up at this point.

9:56pm. Danny Gokey. I think this guy is a good singer, so I'm expecting him to make the rest of tonight's contestants look like pillocks. And wouldn't you know it, he is doing just that. The judges push each other out of the way to impact-mold their tonsils to the base of Danny's penis. Except for Cowell, who likes to play hard to get.

Posted by: shank at 08:13 PM | Comments (10) | Add Comment
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So there's this club of uber-nerds called CERN. I'm not sure why it's called CERN, because such an acronym cannot be derived from its full name; which is the European Organization for Nuclear Research, or Organisation Européenne pour la Recherche Nucléaire in pig latin. But I digress.

Anyways. This Coalition of European Research Nerds has built this thing called a Large Hadron Collider. If particle acceleration was NASCAR, the LHC would be the Texas Motor Speedway. A pretty good metaphor, since the LHC's main purpose is to act as a track around which nerds can watch subatomic particles smash into each other.

Well, they powered it up last night; and that was supposed to be the beginning of the end. The whole deal with this thing, according to the Chicken Littles, is that the experiments performed at the LHC will create black holes. Think of a black hole as the Michael Moore of gravitational pulls; it consumes matter at such a high rate that the vaccuum it creates as it gets larger and larger becomes inescapable. So you can see how the idea of such a thing being created at CERN would be cause for the Chicken Littles to worry.

However, the good news is two fold:
1) They won't start actually running the LHC until this weekend, so we have plenty of time to run up huge debts on Ferraris and mansions that we'll never have to pay for once the rift between matter and anti-matter is breached. Or something.
2) Since the LHC is located in Europe, we'll enjoy the sight of watching all of them get sucked in first. Hell, it should be televised. Maybe we can get ESPN to drop one of the college games and carry The LHC's Black Hole vs. The Known Universe.

Posted by: shank at 11:35 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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I've yet to get confirmation, but I've got to assume that Bob Costas' contract stipulates that he must not be on screen with a taller man, who is not an athlete; because I swear to God they've put a 6-foot dude in a stuffed bra and a brown wig, and named him Mary Carillo. She got a voice like a fucking violone, for Pete's sake.

On the other end of the spectrum, we have Kerri Walsh. As if Women's Beach Volleyball needed the ratings boost. Thank you sweet baby Jesus.

Gymnastics, for all it's prancing, arm-lifting, ribbon-twirling flamboyance; is a staggering display of atheleticism. I tried gymnastics when I was in middle school. It lasted until we got to the rings, and my instructor noted, rather nonchalantly, that if we swung incorrectly we would dislocate one or both shoulders. I was like "Oh hey, um. I was just looking for something to do between soccer seasons, so I'm just going to ah, bow out at this point...given the...that um, the idea of two simultaneously dislocated shoulders made my balls shrivel into my abdominal cavity. So, ya'll have fun." Those people are strong to, like chimpanzees they are.

Just watched Phelps win his 9th career gold medal in the 200m freestyle; breaking the world record just for good measure. The only two Americans to ever win that many golds were two randoms named Carl Lewis and Mark Spitz. Whoever they are. I mean, who watches the Olympics anyways, right?

Posted by: shank at 09:28 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez, visiting Moscow to pursue weapons and energy deals, on Tuesday called for a strategic alliance with Russia to protect his country from the United States.

Chavez might be one of my favorite dictators. If they were on collectible cards like pro athletes, I'd keep his in a plexiglass case. His card and Ahmadinejad's; right next to each other. Anyways, back to the article:

The newspaper Kommersant, generally regarded as reliable, reported Tuesday that Chavez is looking to order Ilyushin jets, diesel-powered submarines, Tor-M1 air defense systems and possibly tanks. It did not specify its sources."

As anyone who's seen The Hunt for Red October can tell you, a diesel-powered sumbarine couldn't sneak up on a deaf retard dogpaddling in his backyard pool - not to mention ambushing something like the new nuclear Virginia-class subs. Or as I like to call them, billion-dollar cans of whoop-ass (my favorite? This one, because I was there).

Of course, upon reading that diesel submarine thing, I was immediately curious about 'Ilyushin jets'. According to wikipedia, Ilyushin hasn't made a fighter plane since the stone age; and they mostly build transports these days. Unless you count these Il-28's, that apparently make great museum peices.

The way I see it, Putin (who, let's be honest, is the real mastermind behind Medvedev) is laughing his ass off. He's selling off all his old junk to Chavez, who's happy to buy it because he's suffering from some paranoid fantasy that the US has it out for him. If the US has it out for you bro, diesel subs and 70's era jet planes aren't going to help.

Posted by: shank at 07:09 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Okay, looks like some people are saying that Iran's latest missle launches were recycled and/or photoshopped images.

This opens the game theory box. Even without the photographic evidence throwing doubt on the launches, it will be easy to find out if Iran did, in fact, play 4th of July yesterday; and to what extent. That's what satellite images are for. The real question is; if Iran is faking it, do you call them on it or not?

The answer to that question, of course, depends on what you think Iran is going to do if you call them out. Ahmadinejad doesn't exactly strike me as someone who's long for this world, so calling his bluff might just result in real missle launches. Of course, what's the difference to the rest of the world between a launch they don't know is fake and a real launch? Nothing. It would simply be needless escalation.

I'm wondering if the best official course of action is to do nothing, let the blogosphere out them, and then snicker at them from behind closed doors. We're getting a free peek at Iran's hand, and seeing that they've got two pair of jokers that have aces scribbled on them in magic marker.

I mean, a fake missle launch really isn't even saber-rattling; it's like, I don't know, waving around a picture of a saber and yelling "Clang clangitty-clang!"

Posted by: shank at 11:56 AM | Comments (24) | Add Comment
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Surprise surprise; looks like Obama got one of those ubercheap home loans. I can't say that I'm all that surprised though, and I wouldn't be to find out that all Senators probably did. The wealthy will nearly always get breaks on financing because they're seen as a safer investment. My only problem is the conflict of interest it creates when the rich people getting the breaks are the people writing the legislation that governs the lender.

Looks like we met 15 of our 18 goals on Iraq so far. That's pretty good to hear, considering the pissing and moaning that has been coming from the peanut gallery all along. I mean, 83% ain't going to get you on the honor roll or anything either; but it's good to see that we're tracking well.

And here's something all bloggers can get behind - water-boarding MSM 'journalists'.

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I love the smell of raw sewage in the morning.

Water quality has been a concern for the sailing events, given that many coastal Chinese cities dump untreated sewage into the sea. At the same time, rivers and tributaries emptying into coastal waters are often contaminated with high levels of nitrates from agricultural and industrial runoff. These nitrates contribute to the red tides of algae that often bloom along sections of China's coastline.

Posted by: shank at 07:04 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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The Wife had to work tonight, so we set the DVR to record Hell's Kitchen for her. For some reason, the damn thing wouldn't record. It's a cable company-supported peice, and they recently upgraded the software on it and ever since it's been a little wonky. Anyways, I decided to take notes for her, and write up the episode so she wouldn't miss anything.

I present it to you here in the style of a video game walkthrough. If you're not familiar with the genre, you're a geriatric or a Luddite, or both.

Now, what follows may not be funny if you've never seen the show. I'm also willing to take the risk that it may not be funny regardless; but I don't care. more...

Posted by: shank at 10:21 PM | Comments (186) | Add Comment
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This is awesome. Imagine the impact that an information network this speedy would have on life as we know it.

Of course, it's also kind of freaky that if it went down, and you were 'cloud computing', you'd pretty much be ass-out.

And how 'bout that collider? I like how the theory is that the LHC will either produce a tiny harmless little thingie; a blakc hole, or a runaway fusion process. That's only two out of three for an outcome that would result in total cataclysm.

It's an exciting time to be alive...

Posted by: shank at 01:56 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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So I was perusing my local fishwrapper this morning and came across this little 'notable note':

Members of the church group located in Kansas travel around the country, mainly to the funerals of Marine soliders, protesting that it is America's fault they are dead.

Oh. Well, how very nice for them. The jerks.

[the]church group plans to make a trip to Camp Lejeune this coming Saturday.

Look, let me try and put this in a nutshell for you WBC twits:
Jacksonville, North Carolina is not where you want to be. This is will not be anything like attending the funeral of one of our fallen heroes in their hometown. Camp Lejeune is the largest concentration of Marines and US Navy personnel in. the. world. In the world!

Now, I know with 100% certainty that every one of those soldiers is under explicit orders to stay the hell away from the intersection of Lejeune & Hargett, even if that means they have to drive around their asshole to get to their elbow. I've also got a great deal of faith that the vast majority of those men and women have the discipline and composure to do just that. By the same token; I've got an equal amount of faith that every retired vet, friend-of-a-Marine/Navy sailor, and family member in a 100-mile radius is probably going to find a little time in their calendar to show up at that intersection as a show of support for the soldiers. Some of these people will be peaceful, and some of them will most definitely be pissed off. I'm going to be in Ft. Lauderdale this weekend, or I'd show up myself just to hold an 'FU' sign and watch the show.

You just can't go into a town that's populated by Marines, sailors, their friends and families; not to menion the large number of retired servicemen, and not expect some serious backlash.

You know, when I was a kid I used to pester the ever-loving shit out of my older brother; and a few times he took the opportunity to remind me that the reason I was able to enjoy chewing my food was because he had not yet chosen to rip my mandible from my twerpy noggin. I'd go moaning to Mom, and she'd say something like "Well, you asked for it."

WBC, you had better be careful. You've been asking for it for quite some time now, and it looks like you've finally found the place that's willing to fill your every request.

Posted by: shank at 10:12 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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From the Washington Times.
Key Quote: "Nothing creates cognitive dissonance in the mind of a true believer."

Oh, and 'Heh'.

Posted by: shank at 10:10 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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Finished painting the livingroom/entryway/hallway last night. It looks a lot better than the shit-brown the previous owners had slapped up. Quite honestly, it looked like they'd put a paintbrush in the hands of a blind epileptic and just let 'em go at it. We still need to go around the trim and ceiling to get all the overlapping brown off. They call it painter's tape for a reason. Yeesh.

Now that the holiday season is upon us, it's time to look back on the year 2007:

Britney Spears. Quite possibly the quickest celebrity spiral since Pee Wee Herman was caught in a skin flick theater in flagrante delicto. Words of advice to Britney? Well darling, you've pretty much screwed the pooch with complete abandon this year, so it can only get better. As long as you don't get caugh masturbating in a public theater. Well, on second thought, that might be a step up.

Michael Vick. I have to admit 23 months is pretty harsh, especially considering this is a man who pretty much has zero future left. I mean, we all know what goes on in prisons these days, and you can bet your ass (or, more appropriately, Mr. Vick's) that there's at least 17 seperate sick mofo's in the big house who can't wait to be the first to make Vick their girlfriend. Two years of that is going to turn him into the NFL's version of Mike Tyson, and the first time they let him back on the field he'll be biting people's ears off. The rest is history.

George Bush. He's like the crappy girlfriend or boyfriend. He makes stupid mistakes, your friends don't respect him, he says the wrong things at the wrong time; but you just can't get enough of the sex. That's right America, you're having sex with the president. If the man turns you off, don't sweat it because according to all the pundits, you can look forward to having sex with Hillary Clinton in the near future.

Appalachian State University. The only I-AA team to ever beat a I-A team, at Ann Arbor no less; and consecutive 3-time national champions. You wish you went there.

Hollywood writers. Rich people haven't complained this much since Cape Wind. Get over it you moaning dickbags!

Well, that's pretty much everything that happened in '07. I know you could swear that more things happened this year, but they didn't.

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IÂ’ve watched this about a hundred times.

And the sequel.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 09:49 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Kid Nation
I'm sure you heard about this TV show - they sent a bunch of kids out into the middle of nowhere to start their own town, see if they could organize government, divide labor, etc. Anyways, a couple of the kids ended up getting burned or something while they were cooking, and now the army of nanny-state pansies is poised for attack. They want to sue based on the grounds of child neglect or unfair working conditions or something. Look, you pussies, when I was a kid we called that kind of thing 'summer camp', and we sure as shit didn't get paid for it. I don't know what the legal ramifications of this will be, but you can bet your ass the higher ups at the Boy Scouts of America are pissing in their olive drab nut-huggers right about now.

Senator Craig
This is absolutely hilarious (except for the profiling part, which just kind of 'has its moments'). Who knew that all you had to do to get some bathroom tail was tap your foot and wave your hand? And here I am all these years just barging in and bellowing "Anyone interested in a little how's your father!?" It's kind of irritating though, when you think about it. I mean, here we all are showing up two hours early for our flights, being herded through the security check; and this guy's seemingly found a way to get the full body cavity search and everything without having to wait in line at all. I guess it's just one of the perks of being a senator.

As an aside, it makes me wonder why it is that people do this stuff in bathrooms. I mean, most of us cozy up next to someone at a bar or a party or something, and then have sex in the bathroom. It just seems a whole lot easier to proposition someone if you're not surrounded by the sights and sounds of pooing strangers. But I don't know, maybe your average cottager has strong enough game that he or she can close the deal with that kind of a soundtrack playing in the background.

Thoughts? Comments? Advice?

Posted by: shank at 08:51 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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As we speak, the stock market is erasing all gains for the calendar year. I guess that's what happens when a real estate market that's been betting on future equity with risky (and sometimes fraudulent) mortgages collapses and sends the value of your average mortgage brokerage from triple-A to junk bond status. Well, that and the disappearance of billions in homeowner's equity that people were assuming they'd rack up over the past year or two. I'm not saying it's going to be raining day-traders on Wall Street or anything; I'm just saying it's one of those days where people are losing their asses.

It's also one of those days where you should be increasing your 401(k) or 403(b) contributions. You'll be able to get more for your money now than you could yesterday; which means you'll be holding more shares when the market comes back.

It's also one of those days where prospective home buyers should be taking stock of their finances. The next few months will usher in what could be the lowest price growth in recent memory. If you've got some cash to put down (because you can pretty much bet most of your Alt-A and no-doc loans aren't on the table anymore) you could really snatch up a deal from some poor bastard who locked in a 3 or 5-year ARM or a zero down loan that just hit it's final initial term. Said stupid bastard is now staring down the barrel of monthly payments that eat families whole, and has just enough equity in the house to sell it and break even. Just as an example, I know a guy who just bought a townhouse that's valued at $253k for $220k, with the seller paying all the closing costs. How bad would you need to be sweating before you'd sell your home for $30k under value and pay $10k in closing costs?

Oh, and I'm not a licensed financial advisor or anything; but I would like to point out that I'm not in any financial pinches either - quite the opposite in fact. So that should be worth something. Like maybe a free sandwich.

Posted by: shank at 12:47 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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I've decided to make Today In History a regular feature. Not only because of it's immense popularity (the last one got almost 5 comments!), but also because it's so easy to write. I steal most of it from some website, which I don't link or give credit to, and then I make the rest of the shit up. Bang! Instant post.

When I say a regular feature I mean basically whenever I fucking feel like it. Some days in history are better than others. Take today in history for instance. Not a whole hell of a lot going on. For thousands of years the Earth has been gravitating around the moon and in all that time nothing really interesting happened on July 27th for some reason. However, for today's Today in History we'll focus on Michael Vick. That's correct, today is the day after the day Michael Vick was arraigned on Federal Dog fighting charges.

This has been well publicized so I won't go into all that here. Nor will I offer my opinion on his innocence or guilt. But here's my solution to the whole mess. Instead of a lengthy, circus-like trial, I propose that, on national TV, Michael Vick and the dogs he allegedly trained to kill, are put into a small room. Michael Vick is then covered in sirloin steaks:

If the dogs just eat the steaks and not Michael Vick, he's not guilty.

If they eat the steaks and Michael Vick, the evidence is inconclusive and it's declared a mistrial. In this event, a long, heartfelt apology will be read to his mother by the presiding judge. Also, a really, really talented mortician, like the Mexican guy from Six Feet Under, will try to put his severed limbs and head back together so they can have an open coffin. This wll be paid for by the state.

But if they ignore the steak and eat Michael Vick, he's guilty and gets the death penalty which obviously was already carried out during sentencing.

That's fair, no? And I'd pay to watch it.

Release the hounds!!!

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 01:44 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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IÂ’ve been all over the world and IÂ’ve eaten in some of the best restaurants. IÂ’ve sampled the wares of many fine chefs, including the top pastry chefs on the business.

The best chocolate cake in the world is fucking Duncan Hines.

Posted by: Pixy Misa at 10:30 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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And you thought there were only supposed to be Four Horsemen.
Spice Girls Reunite For World Tour

"Hey everybody!! We're back!! Can you believe it!!" Ginger, Sporty, Posh, Scary and Baby Spice announced on their Web site.

Actually, I cannot believe it. In a world already turned upside down, God has to go and send us this?

The five-member band is the latest in a long line of pop acts to bury past differences and reform, hoping for success where many others have failed.

And why did they fail, you ask? Obviously, from a serious lack of GIRRRL POWA!

I liked this little bit at the bottom:
Meanwhile, Melanie "Scary" Brown largely disappeared from the public eye until a high-profile paternity case involving Hollywood star Eddie Murphy.

Earlier this month a DNA test confirmed Murphy as the father of Brown's newborn baby girl after he declined to publicly acknowledge paternity.

In the face of damnable evidence, even Eddie Murphy won't admit to hitting that.

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Apparently, Apple has come out with a cell phone that is going to revolutionize...cell phoning. Or something.

It takes calls/photos/video, texts, and surfs the web. That way, you're never without your youtube collection of manualists farting their favorite tunes or animals doing stupid stuff; all on a tiny, grainy handheld screen. Thank God for Apple! Where would we be without these guys, eh?

And although texting is fun when you're drunk, I don't really see the point of it. You've got a cell phone, they've got a cell phone; and yet you're opting to push the tiny keys with your fat, dumb fingers. I think there might be an easier way to get in touch with someone in that circumstance.

How about a cell phone that never drops a call? Or a phone that's waterproof? You're telling me that they can put all manner of useless shit on a cell phone, but they can't make them affordably waterproof or aggregate their networks? That might actually be revolutionary. This shit they're trying to sell us is just another distraction for the gadgetry set to add to their collection.

If I can get a phone that does all kinds of circus tricks, why can't I get a phone that actually performs well as a phone?

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I will always remember today as the day I have officially heard it all. Here's a link, if you dare.

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