There's a lot of blogospheric twittering and rachetjaw regarding what Ahmadinejad will say or do on the 22nd. I'm just glad the 22nd falls after my vacation; at least I'll be relaxed and fresh when I'm ionized by the 'illumination in the sky on the Night of the SiraÂ’a and MiiraÂ’aj'. Or whatever.

I suppose from the pragmatic perspective, there's nothing you or I can do to affect the situation. The way I see it, there's really only a couple people in the entire world who could stop any kind of craziness anyways. Unfortunately, these people are all politicians who've become notoriously hamstrung by second guessers and naysayers. Suffice to say, they're not people of action. I mean, if Teddy Roosevelt was president; we'd have answered Ahmadinejad's threats by hurling so many tons of explosives at Iran that it would become the eighth wonder of the world: the only glass bowl visible from space.

In light of these developments, I've begun getting my affairs in order. And by that I mean preparing to do all those things I ever said I would do if the world was ending. Granted, the world may not end; but I'd imagine nuclear warfare would probably mean the end of a lot of fun things for a pretty long time. That being said, I've taken out a huge cash loan under false pretenses (heh, 'small business'). I already spent a tiny chunk of it on a box of Cubans, a rental Ferrari and a week at the Mirage. The rest of it I'm going to gamble away in one roll of the dice. Or maybe a poker tournament, I haven't decided yet. Oh yeah, and I want a flamethrower too, not for anythign specific, just seems like it would be a lot of fun. Of course, all of this unsecured debt combined with my uncannily horrible luck prety much insures that there will be no fireworks. Which I see as a trade off; I mean, my bad luck will be what saved all of humanity. I figure everyone wouldn't mind slipping me a dollar to help pay back the small business loan right? So on the 23rd, do me a favor and hit the tipjar.

Shit. We don't have a tipjar. I should have known.

Do you guys have any plans?
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Posted by: shank at 03:34 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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So, I was riding a bus today, and I had an odd experience. I'm kind of a tall guy, so I usually extend my legs underneath the seat in front of me, but i try to keep them out of the aisle. Well, as we pull up to the stop; this hugely obese fuckface in front of me stands up. And plants a hugely obese heel squarely on the toe of my shoe.

It was kind of strange. See, I couldn't move my toe in time to get out of the way, and once the full weight of this behemoth was resting on my foot, it sure as hell wasn't going anywhere. So I had no choice but to sit there for a second until Humongo shifted to the other foot; at which point I pulled my flatted shoe back towards myself.

"Oh. I'm sorry! Was that your toe?"
"Yeah." Yeah it was. Now it's probably more useful as a spatula. But yeah, that was my fucking toe.
"Hmm. I'm sorry dear." She purses her lips and smiles.
"No biggie." I manage to crease a grin across my face.

I looked down at my shoe, the shoes that I shine every weekend, and this woman's fucking heel print is burled into the leather. I get off the bus wondering if that shit's going to come out. I'm thinking probably not.

Posted by: shank at 04:29 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Okay, so I'm not high. But if I was, at least I'd have an excuse for posting this kind of crap. more...

Posted by: shank at 03:21 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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