Dear Spokane Plow Drivers 1/28/2008

I’d like to thank you.  First, for plowing the side streets of the south hill before even doing the arterials on the north side.  I’m sure there is far more traffice on 21st through 29th then there is on those pesky northside arterials like Monroe or Francis.

Secondly, on a more personal note, I’d personally like to thank you for your methods of plowing last night.  As I worked for 2 hours with a giant snowblower to remove the frozen burm of dirty ice and snow from my driveway and sidewalk (the one that the mail man apparently can’t negotiate so I haven’t been getting any mail except the “The USPS reminds you that you are responsible for shoveling your sidewalk.” notifications, apparently “through rain, sleet, now, or hail” doesn’t include snow on sidewalks), I noticed that 3 of you plow drivers were apporaching me on the street.  I was a little worried, since I had removed about 60% of the burm and was afraid a new one would be put right in place of it.  I would honestly like to thank those first 3 plows for not putting a huge burm where I had just removed one.  You were courteous enough to angle the blades to avoid that.  As I worked even more to get nearly all the burm removed, again, you plowers approached to get the last little bit of snow.  Again, you angled the blades so a minimal amount of snow was put back.  I guess seeing me standing right there made you able to put 2 and 2 together and realize I didn’t want to do all that work again.

Who I would really like to thank is the 3rd set of plowers who did the side street in front of my house.  Not only were you courteous enough to plow my garbage can directly into a huge pile of ice, but you managed to cover up my walkway and the public sidewalk that I had JUST blown out.  To make matters even easier for me, you went ahead and took that remaining side street snow and forced it around the corner onto the arterial, toward my driveway.  I was very relieved that the first plow stopped before my driveway, since I was still standing there and watching, and I had just disassembled the snowblower handle to fit it in my truck

However, my personal favortie plow driver, the second one from the side street, apparently doesn’t realize what 6 drivers before him did… that a cold, exhausted citizen standing in his driveway with a snowblower and a clear driveway did not fucking want a new pile of snow right where he just removed one.  So, again, thank you, you worthless piece of shit, for putting my sidestreet snow in my driveway.  I’m glad that I borrowed that snowblower and worked for 2 hours for you to fuck it all up in about 5 seconds.

I thank you, my girlfriend who got stuck this morning on that burm thanks you, the cop that had to help us dig her out and push thanks you, the 70 year old paramedic that also helped us dig and push thanks you, as I am sure all the traffic that had to stop behind the cop thanks you as well.

Job well done you fucking cockburn.  I hope you die.  If I find out where you live, maybe I’ll return the favor of blocking your clear driveway, 3 minutes after you clear it.  Only, I’m going to use feces instead of snow…a huge steamy pile of feces.  Fucker.

This Blog Sponsored by: 9/23/2007

As I watched the Bears today take a pounding at the hand of the Dallas Cowboys, I started to notice something about the NFL broadcasts… There are nearly as much advertisements as there are footbal minutes played.  It’s to the point where I don’t even want to watch it anymore.  Even when it’s not a commercial, the plays or camera shots themselves are “sponsored by” or “brought to you by” some company.  It might be a little more tolerable if the company “bringing you” the action had anyhting to do with what they were bringing you.  My favorite today was the “Blimp coverage brought to you by Gillette.”  All this time, I thought Gillette was about personal hygiene products, but it turns out they also provide blimp coverage for your events.  That’s a versitile company.

Even when the cameras were still running for the game, where they’d show a shot of the crowd or a part of the stadium, like the restaurant, the screen is covered by some company’s logo and Al Michaels is rattling off some BS about how this shot was brought to you by McDonalds or whoever was on the screen.  I personally respect that company less now for having lied to me.  McDonalds didn’t bring me that shot, NBC cameramen did.  I highly doubt McDonalds filmed that shot, or paid for the film, or even cared what shot it was.

I think sponsors should be barred form any in game promotion. If they need something to credit shots to, how about something helpful to society, or small, life affirming advice… such as:
“Blimp coverage brought to you by good health and responible parenting”
“Todays broadcast brought to you by cancer research”

or maybe negative sponsoring… such as:

“Blimp coverage was in no way brought to you by A.I.D.S.”
“Todays programming was not made possible by obiesity”
“Diabetes did not fund these programs, and is probably trying to rape your family”

I hear negative publicity works better than positive anyway.  Nobody is going to support something that rapes families… nor are they going to buy a product because it brought you some unseeable NFL blimp camera.

Tom Fucking Selleck 8/6/2007

That’s right… Magnum fucking PI.

I played hockey yesterday, well, tried to play.  We got beat 22-7 I think.  More importantly… I got hit in the taint with the tip of a hockey stick blade.  Yeah, the taint, or choed if you will.  Let me tell you something:  Avoid this at all costs.  I can’t explain how badly a shot to the taint is.  I think it may have cut it.  Yeah, a taint cut.  Fuck all that.  Of course it’s in like the first 5 minutes of the game, so I get to skate around with a stupid bruised, possibly cut taint. I bet you can’t imagine the looks on peoples faces when they ask you why you are walking a little funny, and you respond with “My taint is bruised.”  I do recommend you try walking funny for a day and when people ask, respond with that.  It will change your, and their, lives.

For all those concerned about my taint, I’m happy to report that it doesn’t hurt so bad now.  I can’t imagine I’m going to get a lot of “How’s your taint today?” questions tomorrow, but I guess one can only hope.

On another note, for those of you who are asking “Why wasn’t he wearing protection?”  Well, they don’t have a lot of “taint guards” floating around in the retail universe.  Don’t think about inventing that either, it’s not going to sell well and you’re going to be stuck with thousands of maxi pad looking pieces of protective equipment.

A question 4/26/2007

What if Spiderman’s web came out of his ass like a real spider instead of his wrists?

I want you to really take that in and get a mental picture of Tobey Maguire swinging around from buildings with a string out his ass.  I bet you are sexually excited you sick bastards.

The Movie that Stopped a War 2/17/2007

This evening, I went to see a movie called Hannibal Rising.  This movie was very powerful in it’s effects on me.  As I was watching this movie, there was a war brewing, and I did not even know that it was happening.  You see, earlier in the night, a friend, Bryan, and I went to a local restaurant.  This restaurant serves wings… buffalo wings.  At a mere 20 cents a wing, who could pass up such a delicious treat?  I personally had 15, Bryan: 14. He would have had 15 as well, but in their haste, the cooks mistook our order of 10 for an order of 9, totalling 29, rather than 30.  Bryan volunteered to take the lesser amount.  This is all unimportant.  What is important is that during and after these winhgs were being consumed, alcohol was also being consumed.  2 guinness, a mojito, and a double shot of Jameson were all consumed.  This created a mixture in my stomach of very different, yet appealing ingredients.  These ingredients combined in the depths of my stomach, to form a fromidable foe to any digestive system.  This union of alcohol, wings, and other various ingredients launched a campaign reminiscent of Hitlers march into France.  My intestines were simply not prepared.  Withing moments, the wings slash alcohol army was storming my small intestine with the fury of hell.   My intestines had no choice but to yield.  After the battle of Wagner’s small intestine, the wing/alcohol army moved to take my colon.  It is here where an historic event had taken place.  My colon, fueled by the devastation of the small intestine, held up against the raging army.  For minutes,  it held it’s ground.  After several attempts, the winged alocohol army had to back off out of fear of losses.  Shortly after this stalemate, both sides agreed to send delegates to the negotiation tables.  Members of the winged alcohol republic met with members of the rectal parliament.  In a series of short negotiations, terms were reached.  Both sides agreed to lay down arms and combine their efforts.  Their efforts were then crafted into the perfect specimen of fecal matter.  With this fecal matter, the sides would deliver a message to a new foe… Hollywood.  They would excrete this fecal matter into a bag and send it to their new enemy.  When Hollywood recieved it, they would open the package and find a deuce in a bag.  The bag wold then be labelled “The contents of this is far superior to the movie Hannibal Rising.  Fuck You Hollywood.”

The Sounds of Anger 2/12/2007

So, being angry as I am takes alot of focus, and it may distract me from other things… such as how I sound or am acting.  With that in mind, I’d like to make fun of yet another victim… only this time, it’s me.
The other day, I was driving… which, in Spokane, causes me to become quite angry.  Somehow, people brains turn into gelatin while they drive and a chemical reaction happens in my brain which fills me to the brim with hate.  Well on this particular day, as I was talking out loud to other drivers, my stereo failed to play any music for whatever reason.  Well, with no music, the only thing I could hear was myself and my angry audible suggestions to other drivers.  I discovered something that day… I sound like a total douche when I’m yelling at other drivers.  I mean, really, a total cock.  I wanted to punch myself for sounding so dumb.
First off… why do I have to be so loud?  I’m in a car by myself with the windows up… no matter how loud I am, nobody will ever hear me.  Sometimes I even politely tell some other driver what they did wrong, such as “Hey, you should use your blinker” or “Perhaps you should go faster.”  What the hell?  That’s not even out of anger, I’m just talking to some random driver like they can hear me.  It makes me wonder… maybe I’m going nuts.  Maybe I think they can hear me and it makes me feel like I’ve helped them drive better.  Somehow, I’m everyones personal driving instructor, out to make driving more pleasurable for everyone.  If so, I fucking suck at that job cause everyone still is terrbile at driving.
So next time you yell at a driver, turn down your radio then try it again… you too probably sound like a total douche.