|
 |
|
Tuesday, October 14, 2003

congratulations. you are the kiss my ass happy
bunny. You don't care about anyone or anything.
You must be so proud
which happy bunny are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Nerdslut
What's your sexual appeal?
brought to you by Quizilla
Now this nerdslut thing. It kind of scares me. Really. It does. Cat, am I a nerdslut? And if so, is that a good thing? With the bunny, well like that was a surprise to anyone. Sheeeesh
And now for something completely different.....
Seems that hunters are to blame for the candy addiction of black bears in North Carolina. The hunters use the candy as bait for the bears. What animal is gonna turn down a 2,000 pound block of candy? This animal wouldn't. However, the bears are suffering the ill effects of the evil known as sugar. From tooth decay to weight loss & everything in between. One park ranger said he found a bear "lying down in the middle of the road, moaning and unwilling to move out of the vehicle's way. He compared the image to that of humans addicted to cocaine."
My question is this.... since this candy is like blow to bears, is there a den somewhere with a bunch of bears lying around mainlining? Would rock candy, lollipops or any hard candy be the bear equivalent of crack? Would speedballs be a wheel barrow full of truffles? These are the things that muttle my brain.
Posted at 10:53 pm by Zombie Permalink
File under:
I have received a message that seemed to me to be from a very distraught individual. Apparently, my lust, if you wish to call it that, for Penn Jillette has them questioning my sanity. This person feels that no one could possibly find the man attractive even after copious amounts of alcohol & hallucinogenic drugs. Let's address this.
First off, the old cliché "beauty is in the eye of the beholder" is something you should look into. I find him attractive on many levels. So let's break down why I find him attractive.
Humor - the man has tons of it. I don't know what he's like in person. I've never met the man. However, if he's even remotely as funny off stage as he is on, he'll have me pissing my pants in a matter of minutes. I find this trait is always high on my list.
Intelligence - being that he writes very coherently & has his stuff published in numerous journals, I'm going to go out on a limb & say that he is, most definitely, intelligent. In case you haven't stumbled upon anything he's written, he writes a lot of political pieces. Intelligence is a must have for me. I don't want someone that isn't able to hold a coherent conversation. I like to be challenged. People that aren't intelligent pose no sort of challenge for me.
Height - he's 6'6". Yes, this is a superficial trait on my part. Nothing gets me excited faster than a smart, funny, tall man.
Looks have never been a big thing with me. Let's face it, someone can be the best looking thing walking the face of the earth, but if you can't stand their personality, what the hell does it matter? At some point, you are going to want to, at the very least, punch them in their perfect little face for being a complete ass. Case in point, Nick Lachey & Jessica Simpson. He's going to kill her one day for saying something stupid. I don't care how hot you are, if you can't form a complete sentence, I'm going to throw your ass under a bus & then dance on your body.
Now, my inquisitor mentioned something about my sanity. Let me say here & now that at no point in time have I ever claimed to be sane. Besides, a person's sanity all depends on another's point of view. Take Leslie for example. Just because he dresses in women's clothing & hangs out on the streets of Austin with signs proclaiming various social & political injustices (namely his mistreatment by the Austin Police Department), people think he's not sane. I happen to think he is. Just because he scares the bajeezus out of me doesn't make him any less sane in my book. Bottom line, think what you will, I don't really care.
One last thing. I will be making a rare night time public appearance this weekend at the House of Blues inside Mandalay Bay. Saliva will be playing. It will also be a small gathering of people remembering my late brother. Of course we will be drunk off our asses, but that's the way he would have wanted it. So, if you happen to be in town that night, toodle on down. If you're lucky, you might find me in a venue of at least a thousand people.
Word of the Day
querulous - KWAIR-yuh-luss - adjective
habitually complaining
Posted at 07:43 pm by Zombie Permalink
File under:
My Mommy sent me this today. I found it amusing & thought I would share.
Zen-type thoughts for a smile today...
Do not walk behind me, for I may not lead. Do not walk ahead of me, for I may not follow. Do not walk beside me either. Just pretty much leave me the hell alone.
The journey of a thousand miles begins with a broken fan belt and a leaky tire.
It's always darkest before dawn. So if you're going to steal your neighbor's newspaper, that's the time to do it.
Sex is like air. It's not important unless you aren't getting any.
No one is listening until you fart.
Never test the depth of the water with both feet.
Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticize them you're a mile away and you have their shoes.
If at first you don't succeed, skydiving is not for you.
Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day. Teach him how to fish, and he will sit in a boat and drink beer all day.
If you lend someone $20 and never see that person again, it was probably worth it.
If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything.
Some days you are the bug; some days you are the windshield.
Don't worry; it only seems kinky the first time.
Good judgment comes from bad experience, and a lot of that comes from bad judgment.
There are two theories to arguing with women. Neither one works.
Generally speaking, you aren't learning much when your lips are moving.
Never miss a good chance to shut up.
We are born naked, wet and hungry, and get slapped on our ass... then things get worse.
Never, under any circumstances, take a sleeping pill and a laxative on the same night.
There is a fine line between "hobby" and "mental illness."
Everyone seems normal until you get to know them.
Posted at 02:29 pm by Zombie Permalink
File under:
Monday, October 13, 2003
Yesterday, I had lunch in Mr. Lucky's at the Hard Rock Hotel & Casino. The food is mediocre at best. I've eaten there more than I care to admit. Since I generally sit in the smoking section, I am almost always seated in a booth next to this huge pieced picture of Jim Morrison. I don't have a problem with the subject matter of the picture itself. Its like a giant head shot of the guy, but I do have a monumental problem with the picture itself.
xx
xx |
xx
xx |
xx
xx |
xx
xx |
| x |
x |
x |
o |
That's a crude representation of the damn thing. All the pieces are correct except the bottom right one. ITS THE WRONG DAMN PIECE. There is one more row to the picture. It goes at the top. Apparently, the bottom right piece was lost somewhere. So they put the piece that should be at the top right in its place & hoped no one would notice. It makes me nuts. I can't stand things like that.
Every time I see it I think of that scene from the Cincinnati Kid where Melba (Ann-Margaret) is sitting on the bed doing a jigsaw puzzle while talking to her husband Shooter (Karl Malden). She starts sawing on the puzzle pieces with a nail file to make them fit. Shooter tells her something to the effect of, "You know, you are only cheating yourself." They cheated themselves! Not to mention the fact that they are making me absolutely nuts with the stupid thing. Its a conspiracy I tell you.
On a lighter note, there is more food art. YAY! I was waiting for my eternally slow waitress to come back with my change when I was at Gardunos in the Palms. I get bored easily & I can't sit still for two seconds. So, what was left of my Zia Salad became the newest edition to my food art. Nothing spectacular, however, the people at the table behind me had a few comments. Apparently, they thought I was being slightly uncooth. They can lick me. You'll have to excuse the picture. I still haven't replaced the batteries in the camera yet & they are super low.

Word of the Day
synecdoche - suh-NEK-duh-kee - noun
a figure of speech by which a part is put for the whole or vice versa, the species for the genus or vice versa, or the name of the material for the thing made
Posted at 11:17 pm by Zombie Permalink
File under:
Sunday, October 12, 2003
Yeah, yeah, I know, its way late for the WOTD, lick me. I was out.
multifarious - muhl-tuh-FER-ee-uhs - adjective
havinng or occuring in great variety: diverse
Posted at 11:42 pm by Zombie Permalink
File under:


OK, so not both of them. Just Penn. Penn Jillette to be exact, all 6'6" of him. He would be commonly referred to as the vocal half of, well, Penn & Teller. Don't ask on this one, damn you, just accept it. Some things you can't explain people. However, I do know that every time I pass that damn sign on the freeway, I want to pull over and...... nevermind. He's a funny, funny man. Humor goes a long way with me. Next month, I actually get to go see the show. I'll be giddy like a school girl.
Just for giggles, you should read [this]. I laughed so hard I snorted. I have to go to the can now.
Posted at 03:13 am by Zombie Permalink
File under:
Saturday, October 11, 2003
No, I didn't forget the word of the day. I bet you thought I did. Well.... NEENER to you because I didn't.
diaphanous - dye-AF-uh-nus - adjective
1. characterized by such fineness of texture as to permit seeing through
2. characterized by extreme delicacy of form : ethereal
3. insubstantial, vague
Here's an interesting blog I stumbled across today. You can believe the guy or not that he's in prison, but hell, he has some interesting musings. Bloggin From Jail
Posted at 06:59 pm by Zombie Permalink
File under:
Why I hate people in general
Please note: this was orginally posted to my journal [here]. But I thought I would share it with you nice folks. In case you bother to read it, the original date was Super Bowl Sunday, whatever day that was. I'm guessing it was a Sunday. *shrugs*
Its no secret that I hate people. Not people with any particular ethnic background, just people in general. If you are breathing and have opposable thumbs, chances are, I hate you. And no, I don't hate primates, they generally have better social skills than most humans.
There are particular age groups that I take pity on. If you are elderly, its possible that I will give you a chance. I mean come on, anyone that was a young adult in the 1940's dressed in the most stylish clothes ever imagined deserves the chance to not be hated on sight.
I especially despise anyone under the age of 18. I think there should be a leash law for children. I also think that if your child annoys me, I should have the right to spank their whiny ass. There is a lack of corporal punishment in today's society which I feel is the reason that the world is going to shit. But, I shall continue the "I hate kids" diatribe later. I can go on for days. I can't wait to see the shitty comments I get with this entry. But this entry is about people in general, not just you, my emotionally downtrodden little titty bags.
Today was *gag* super bowl Sunday. Whoopty fuckin do. First of all, I abhor football. Its the most asinine thing next to golf. Second, I hate football fans even more. They are so obnoxious. They yell, they scream and they have a total disregard for even semi-acceptable social behavior. On super bowl Sunday, they forget they are even human.
You can see them at super bowl parties all over town. These jackasses even come from far, far away to go to these parties. First they spend money on transportation, whichever mode that may be. Then they pay horrendously inflated room rates. If that weren't enough, they are even willing to pay upwards of $100 to sit in a room with a bunch of other drunk morons to watch a fucking football game on a big screen and eat worse food than they would get at a stadium. So please don't tell me these people are not retarded. Something is definitely wrong with their wiring.
Once this "party" is over, they filter out into the casino. Drunk off cheap $1 draft beer and flatulent (imagine, if you will, feeding a geriatric individual a plate full of brussel sprouts and multiply that X 100) from the "gourmet" fare. They proceed to run (yes, RUN) around the casino screaming at the top of their lungs for whichever team of over paid muscle heads won the game of keep away. Cue a group of their drunk comrades who were backing the team that lost the game. I am sure you can imagine the outcome. There has to be as much security in a casino on super bowl Sunday as there is on New Year's Eve.
Why people act like this is beyond me. What kills me even more is that once they leave these parties, so shit faced they don't know they aren't suppose to piss on the sidewalk, they get into their rented vehicles and drive. Yes folks, the most popular past time here in fabulous Sin City is drinking and driving. Tourists are aware of this and hope that if they do get stopped before they kill someone, the cop will take pity on their ignorant ass because they are a tourist and didn't know they weren't in Britain where you are suppose to drive on the wrong side of the road.
In case your parents didn't bother to teach you correct social form, I suggest you take five minutes out of your boring fucking life and learn some social skills. I know I am not the only person in the world that is socially unacceptable appearance wise. But there isn't one person, that was sober, that has met me that will ever tell you I that I don't have social skills. You know why you hate the world? Because you are a whiny little piss monkey with no social skills. Learn some. I guarantee the next time someone says thank you because you held a door open for a little old lady, a little ray of light will break into your woe is me little world.
But have no fear, I'll still hate you even if you open a door for me when I am seventy. And in case you don't hold the fucking door open, I'll run your ass down with my electric cart. Have a nice fucking day.

your bitch.
What swear word are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Posted at 06:46 pm by Zombie Permalink
File under:
Just in Time for the Holidays
Earlier, the movie Young Frankenstein came up in discussion. This was a discussion with myself, therefore it took place solely in my head. At some point, one of the voices decided it would be most amusing to do the musical number where the Monster sings & dances to Puttin' on the Ritz.
As soon as voice one, which we'll call Hester, began to sing, voice two, which we shall call Maynard, laughed hysterically. About half way through the segment, Maynard comments on how the Monster & Chewbacca should do a duets album. I pondered this for a moment. Just then, voice three, otherwise known as Bob, pipes up & says we should throw William Shatner into the mix.

With the final addition, we feel we can have a best selling album out by Christmas. That is if the Monster doesn't get all pissy with his work. He can be a perfectionist you know. When he throws a temper tantrum, there's hell to pay too. With Chewbacca, all we have to worry about is him being off in space. However, we think we can ground him long enough to get a few songs out of him. With Shatner, who the hell knows. As long as he doesn't try to act, we think we'll be OK. However, we may decide to let the Tribbles or Adrian Zmed guest on his performances to add some credibility.
We figure it will be something like the Three Tenors. The Monster, Chewbacca & the other guy. The reviews almost write themselves......
"The Monster's performance of Ave Maria was absolutely breath taking. Chewbacca has out done himself with Ingemisco. But who is that other guy?" - Some "critic" we payed the outrageous sum of $0.75 for a good review
Of course espresso will be served by candlelight at the release party. We aren't sure if the Monster will make an appearance or not.
I suggest that if you haven't seen the movie Young Frankenstein, you do so at this point in time. I know that you are completly lost. Watch the movie, then re-read this. You might understand it then.
Posted at 02:17 am by Zombie Permalink
File under:
Friday, October 10, 2003
Yesterday I went to my friendly neighborhood grocery store. Generally, when I am in any place with strangers, I don't strike up many conversations. I really don't care about you life. I get my crap, pay for it & leave. That's all. I also don't dress up when I go shopping. I don't see the point. I mean, I guess I could have a My Blue Heaven moment where some reject rat mob guy that looks like Steve Martin comes strolling down the aisle & informs me that I could "melt all dis stuff." However, I don't really see that happening.
As I was saying.... I was in the market, casually dressed wearing the t-shirt below. Don't know what's on it? Its the cyrillic alphabet. At one point in my ill fated college career, I was a Russian major. Back to the story. So I thought I was getting out of the joint unscathed. No chit chat with anyone. That is until I check out. The bag girl made me nuts. She'll talk to anything that doesn't run away. My guess is that even if it did run away, she would run after all the while yammering. Apparently I incited her verbal wrath when I asked for paper instead of plastic (I use the paper bags to make patterns).

excuse the crappy picture, the camera needs batteries
Bag girl spies my t-shirt & asks me what in the hell it says. I kindly imformed her what the shirt was. Then she asks me how to pronounce it. So I asked, "Do you say the English alphabet all at once?" She looked at me like I was a moron. Next, and this is where it starts to get good, she tells me, "Well, if someone is going to come live in my country, they had best learn to speak my language. I shouldn't have to learn their's." OK, since when did this turn into a discussion about immigrants? I sure don't recall mentioning anything about not knowing English & I sure as hell don't have an accent. So, I ignored her.
Of course that didn't stop her. No way. She was like the Terminator or something. Either that or she had a death wish. I have yet to decide. Apparently, because I am wearing this shirt, I must be Russian. At least in her mind. Her next pearl of wisdom? "I don't know what it is with you people & cabbage." You people?!? Sweet Jesus! I had no clue what to say. She had me stumped. For that, I am greatly saddened. But her complete lack of respect for another human being amazed me. My father, the hateful bastard that he is, would never even do this.
However, she is still able to one up herself. I didn't think it was possible. "And you know, you are all communist too." I laughed in her face. The checker was horrified. Free thinking at its finest people. This girl couldn't have been more than 16. I wonder what her parents are like. Once I was finished laughing, I asked her if she knew who the KGB was. She nodded, "Communist cops." That was her reply. I told her my father was the head of the agency & was still living in Russia. Her eyes got wide. I also informed her that he would be sending a couple of field agents that were in the US to visit her. Her jaw dropped & she walked away. The cashier & I had a nice little laugh with that one. Hmmm, I wonder if she jumps every time the phone rings or someone knocks on the door?
Was what I did wrong? Probably. And I know two wrongs don't make a right. However, I let my mouth run. I was amused anyway. I'll make sure to go through the line she is working next time I am in there. I'll just have to remember to wear my Russian film festival shirt.
Word of the Day
asinine - s -n n - adjective
marked by inexcusable failure to exercise intelligence or sound judgment
Posted at 07:13 pm by Zombie Permalink
File under:
|
|
|