Fred Phelps is a jackass.

I think that I've finally reached the conclusion that Fred Phelps is the worst person ever. Really. Is he worse than Hitler, it's possible. I mean, at least Hitler paved some roads, to the best of my knowledge Fred Phelps has never done one good thing in his entire life.

The fact that he's now taken to picketing funerals of soldiers killed in action has, to me, put him in a whole new category of jackass. Reverend Phelps tends to believe that not only does God hate fags (as his website explains), but God hates an entire an entire list of things. For example, did you know that God hates the FDNY? He also hates John Edwards, Sweden, and he really hates King Carl Gustaf.

Reverend Fred may truly be the craziest man in America, but you've really got to hand it to the people that follow him. What makes a person get out of bed in the morning and think, "y'know, today would be a good day to march around ground zero in New York protesting the dead." How damn crazy do you have to be to fall for that garbage? More importantly, why did Reverend Fred let his minions within two miles of Howard Stern!? Surely he must be the most evil creature going... right? And may I add, what a waste! Those chicks aren't too bad looking.

Fred has recently decided to erect a memorial to gay martyr Matthew Shepherd. Of course, being that it's Reverend Fred, you can't seriously expect it to be even remotely flattering. In fact, it's down right nasty. I'm all for freedom of speech, and thus his right to say and do these types of things, but I'm also for the freedom to knock the crap out of him if he's ever within striking distance.


Needless to say, Hurricane Katrina was a good thing. It severely punished the terrible sinners in that hellhole called New Orleans. Now, I'll agree 100% with Reverend Fred that New Orleans is a hellhole, but I do find it hard to believe that the hellholery had anything to do with naturally occurring weather phenomena.

I think my favorite line has to be, "fag-semen-rancid waters of New Orleans," or perhaps the timeless phrase, "stinking cesspool of fag fecal matter." It's becoming apparent that according to Reverend Fred, everyone on Earth seems to be a "fag." In fact, I do believe that the only non-fags seem to be the members of his congregation.


It should also be stated that in his later years (or possibly in his early years, I've only been keeping up with him for a few of them) Reverend Fred has gotten a bit paranoid. According to his website, on August 20, 1995, the Westboro Baptist Church (essentially his house) was bombed by the United States Government. I'm sure that Fred is right up there with the Taliban, Osama Bin Laden and, I guess Hugo Chavez, now.

-- Really... how far right do you have to be to think that KANSAS is a demonic, left wing, pro-gay state!?--

Essentially, Fred is my new public enemy number one. I think it's time that we start protesting his protests. Or even better, perhaps it's time we just kick his old ass.

In response to Aaron's post for the day, I offer this.


After all, a picture is worth a thousand words.

Tina has just sent word that gas is now 2.99 in Winchester, and has hit as much at 3.09 in surrounding counties. Hopefully you took my advice earlier this week and fueled up (KEVIN).

The most interesting development from Camp Tina is this: Apparently Greenup County Schools have closed. Why, you may ask? Well, school system is out of fuel, and the gas panic has caused all of the local pumps to run dry.

The end times are upon us, folks.

New Orleans is falling apart.

Of course, this shouldn't really come as a surprise to anyone. But I do have to ask, "where is our fearless leader?" Washington is being pretty quiet about the whole thing, meanwhile we have annoucements like, "don't touch floating dead bodies" coming from the LA Governor's office. I've been searching and searching, but I can't seem to find George anywhere near New Orleans.

Nope, not here, although this guy seems to be getting along fine without him.

Nope, not here either, although you've got to admit, this does look like the world's biggest game of tetris.

Hmm, oil everywhere! We must be getting closer, he has to be around here somewhere!

There he is! He's waaaay too busy to bother with the whole leader of the free world thing, he's got a hootenanny to host! Check it out, it's the official presidential guit-fiddle. I want one!

Well, folks, last night's trivia was a hollow victory. We won, and we did it with a perfect score! Yep, you read that correctly, a 100% perfect score! Unfortunately, that perfect score had a great deal to do with the fact that the questions asked were the very same questions that I was presented with on Saturday. Having asked them already, it was certainly no problem to recall the answers, and thus kick ass.

Of course, we didn't keep the first place money. Being that only two teams arrived to play (essentially one, but we split into two), we gave the other Powell County team our first place prize, then happily took 2nd and went on our merry way. Let this be a lesson, Don, not every team is honest, be cautious with those questions!

It's time for some Chick Tracts! For those of you that may be unfamiliar with the work of legendary cartoonist Jack Chick, let me please enlighten you. Here are a few paragraphs, slightly paraphrased, from the official Jack Chick website.

From early childhood, it was obvious that Jack Chick had an ability to draw. He even failed the first grade because he was so busy drawing airplanes in battle. While in high school, none of the Christians would have anything to do with him because of his bad language.

While working at AstroScience Corporation in El Monte, California, Jack was sitting in his car reading a copy of Power From On High by Charles Finney, which an old welder had given him. "My burden was so heavy to wake Christians up to pray for revival." He couldn't find a publisher who was willing to print his book, so Jack borrowed $800.

Jack remembers, "At the time, I didn't like teenagers or their rebellion. I was overcome with the realization that these teens were probably on their way to hell." Within 15 minutes, A Demon's Nightmare was written.

Today, nearly forty years after writing his first tract, God is still giving Jack Chick new gospel tracts. In fact, he is now producing some of his most popular work. As of this writing, five of the ten most popular Chick tracts in stock have been written in the last year or two.

Pretty exciting stuff, eh? Itching for more, are you? Well check out some of Jack's work!

See, Timmy, the Bible has lots of interesting facts, for example, you're going to hell!

Satan has been cast out of heaven, survived eternity in hellfire, and desires a final battle for supremacy with the almighty God, but Rita Jones scares the crap out of him.

My mother never warned me about the Satanists that were waiting to disembowel me at the end of Plum Street. Thank God Jack Chick was around.

And of course, the Nazis were really Vatican Stormtroopers. What crazy religious document would be complete without a little Anti-Catholic paranoia?

Chick tracts have been a quiet obsession of mine for years, some of them are ten times funnier than, well, even ZIGGY! I'll share one whole comic, my favorite of the more recent tracts. Jump in, enjoy the Chickery, you'll be glad you did!

I've been thinking quite a bit about gay rights lately. As most people who know me are aware, I am a painfully straight man (just look at my wardrobe) that happens to be a serious advocate for gay rights. However, I've always been a man with a belief in God (but not always religion).

So, I've spent most of my life hearing how gays were evil, how the Bible said so, and that was just it. Period. No argument. Evil. To be honest, and I'm a bit ashamed of this, I've just accepted that as true and moved along. To clarify, I never saw homosexuals as evil, but saw it as a sin, and by no means more of a sin than my desire to drink too much beer from time to time or curse like a sailor during football season.

However, today I decided to actually take a good, strong look at Leviticus... the chapter of the Old Testament that seems to be the most direct line between homophobes and God. Now, before you think, "oh lord, this is going to be a long, boring post," think again. It's just going to be quick synopsis of exactly why this particular verse is completely irrelevant to any serious biblical argument.

"You shall not lie with a male as with a woman. It is an abomination." (Leviticus 18:22)

"If a man lies with a male as he lies with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination. They shall surely be put to death. Their blood shall be upon them." (Leviticus 20:13)

First, let's address that whole "abomination" thing. All too often I hear religious right wingers talking about how homosexuality is an "abomination." Well, guess what else is an abomination? If you guessed shrimp and lobster, you're right! Apparently the seafood bar at the Golden Corral is an abomination... but I could have told you that years ago.

"But all in the seas or in the rivers that do not have fins and scales, all that move in the water or any living thing which is in the water, they are an abomination to you." (Leviticus 11:10)

"They (shellfish) shall be an abomination to you; you shall not eat their flesh, but you shall regard their carcasses as an abomination." (Leviticus 11:11)3

Now, allow me to quickly list a few more "abhorrent" (to use preferred nomenclature of MOVIEGUIDE) things that all come side by side in this list of nasties.

"For everyone who curses his father or his mother shall surely be put to death. He has cursed his father or his mother. His blood shall be upon him." (Leviticus 20:9)

"If a man lies with a woman during her sickness and uncovers her nakedness, he has discovered her flow, and she has uncovered the flow of her blood. Both of them shall be cut off from her people." (Leviticus 20:18)

"Your male and female slaves are to come from the nations around you; from them you may buy slaves. You may also buy some of the temporary residents living among you and members of their clans born in your country, and they will become your property." (Leviticus 25:44-45)

"Do not cut the hair at the sides of your head or clip off the edges of your beard." (Leviticus 19:27)

"...do not plant your field with two kinds of seed. Do not wear material woven of two kinds of material." (Leviticus 19:19)

So, there you have it. If homosexuality is as evil as we're told, then the following things are true. First of all shrimp is an abomination, we can't forget that. But there are a few more laws that I expect each and every anti-gay zealot to follow to the letter.

1. The next time your child smarts off, chop off his or her head. It's the law.
2. If you and your wife happen to catch each other in the buff during her "monthly cycle," you are to both be deported immediately.
3. Slavery is not only legal, but encouraged. If some slaves are too far away, borrow from a neighbor.
4. NO HAIRCUTS. This will be especially difficult for those of you that have become accustomed to the phrase, "Long Haired Hippies."
5. No cotton/poly blends. Personally, I like this one.

Anyone caught disobeying even one of these laws will be subject to persecution and publicly executed. After all, God doesn't like it when we pick and choose which rules to follow, isn't that right Reverend Falwell?

BUY GAS NOW!!

GAS IS EXPECTED TO INCREASE BY 80-90 CENTS PER GALLON DURING THE AFTERNOON. I WOULD STRONGLY ADVISE ANY READER TO FILL THE TANK RIGHT NOW, BEAT THE RUSH AND SAVE A FEW BUCKS!

Would anyone really care if Fred Phelps dropped dead? I mean, seriously.

Calling All No Limit Soldiers and Cash Money Millionaires!

As you probably know, a Class 5 hurricane is preparing to rip New Orleans in half any minute now. Granted, we've been evacuating for several hours, but what about the ones left behind? I'm not talking about your run of the mill NOLA residents here, no way, I'm talking about the remaining members of the No Limit Records and Cash Money Records posses!

Sure, Master P has the money and connections to get himself out of this situation, and the same is true for the Big Tymers and Juvenile... but what about the bit players? What about the guys that make all of those records so great just by shouting, "UHHHH!" in the background or cleverly repeating the song's title, "E'er body shake it down, shake it down now!" These guys have neither the means nor connections to escape the coming disaster!

You may ask yourself, "who are these guys, and do I really care?" Well, let me ask you this. Do you want to live in a world without the likes of Mr. Serv-On? What about Mia X, Da Hot Spitta, Kne Kne, Big Ed, Skull Duggery, and so on? You may think some of those are hit or miss, but we can all agree on Kne Kne, can't we?

Brotha Lynch Hung Needs Your Help

So, here's the plan. I stopped off at Wal-Mart last night (yes, I hate Wal-Mart, but desperate times call for desperate measures) and purchased every case of "water wings" in the store. Together, we'll hop aboard Glenn Salyer's plane, fly to the NOLA (New Orleans, LA, for you white folk) and begin dropping water wings on the projects. Soon, we will have managed to save the likes of Mo' B. Dick and Slim Cutta Calhoun from certain doom.

This is going to be a difficult job, people, but I know you're up to it. I'll be calling on the specially trained forces of David Rogers and his youth group; I know they'll see the importance of this mission. It won't be easy; some of you may not come back. But remember, this isn't about us, this is about Curren$y, Kingpin Skinny Pimp, and Steady Mobb'n. This is about Young Bleed, The Ghetto Twiinz, and E-A-Ski... this is about Soulja Slim, damnit!

The Backstroke of the West

No, no, no... this isn't some sort of wacky, leftist rant.

Nathan Johnson was kind enough to provide us with this goodness. It's truly a thing of beauty. God bless poor translations, without them life would be far less interesting.

Well, I'm back in Mother County, having survived a long and tedious adventure in Louisville. I need to visit "Da Ville" (as the t-shirts now say) about twice a year to remind myself of why I never, ever go there. Of course, there's always the added bonus of grabbing some Yang-Kee Noodle (the finest noodlery ever), but it's difficult to determine as to whether or not it's worth the trip... perhaps I could get Brinton to put together some sort of equation or scientific theory to determine exactly whether or not a delicious bowl of Firecracker Chicken warrants the hellish L-ville experience.

Here's some love for Cody. For those of you unfamiliar with Mr. Meadows, he's not only a neat guy and snappy dresser, but he's launching a one-man campaign to bring back the word "snap."

In the picture, he's the one on the right.

For those of you in the Lexington area (or those of you in some other area that just happen to looooooove me) I'll be hosting Local Trivia Action tonight at Trumps (Andover) and Saturday at the Campus Pub (Waller). Both shows start around 9ish, so come out and enjoy some serious trivia! I can't promise that it'll be a great show, but I can promise that you will NOT hear that, "stole my heart in the trailer park" song... not even once.

Troy Sparks will be married off this weekend to Aaron's cousin Jessica. Now, I'm no expert on the game of love, but I'm going to suggest that although Troy and Jessica are most certainly in love, the real motivation for the wedding is convenience. Can you imagine what a hassle it must be for a girl to change all of her personal information after she's married? Drivers License, Social Security Card, Credit Cards, Subway Club Card... the list is endless! BUT, if you, like Jessica, are fortunate enough to come across a soul mate with the same last name, well then you've hit the jackpot (and it's a damn good thing, I hear that she was only two subs away from that free six incher... insert joke here).

The Aristocrats hits this weekend. Although my schedule is jam packed, I'm still going to attempt to catch it. If I'm lucky enough to do so I'll let you know how it goes.

This may be the unintentionally (or maybe intentionally) funniest thing that I've ever read.

I'm off to Louisville today, so I doubt there'll be very much updating until Friday rolls around. Hopefully I'll be able to send a little something, but it's doubtful. So, in my absence let this picture of William Shatner keep you company.

Bye!

This whole Hugo Chavez thing is getting ridiculous. Chavez is a hero to countless poor, brown Venezuelans and arch rival of the wealthy, oppressive elite. If you'd like some more info on Chavez click here for a top notch article from Alternet that explains the American spin put on his presidency.

If you're interested in checking out the Pat Robertson quote yourself (since the right is now spinning it as "tongue in cheek" or suggesting that he was "obviously joking") click here. I think that you'll see, as I did, that there's not one thing tongue in cheek about these comments.

I hereby call for Pat Robertson's assassination. We have the ability to take him out, and I think the time has come that we exercise that ability. Face it folks, we don't need another 200 billion dollar war to get rid of one, strong arm leader of a radical, religous fringe. Robertson's agenda serves as a launchpad for religious extremism and endangers each and every American and must be stopped by any means necessary.

The man's out to lunch, and has been for years, even once threatening to bomb the state department. He thinks we're out to get him, so why not prove him right? I don't know about this doctrine of assassination, but if he thinks we're trying to assassinate him, I think that we really ought to go ahead, it's a whole lot cheaper than starting a war.

Now read this!

Sometimes, things just suck.

It's the painful, yet unavoidable problem that we all must face... we are getting older. As father time inches closer and closer to us we can't help but see all of the things that meant something to us when we were younger either grow distant, or in some cases disappear. Of course, for some these are severe changes, for some subtle changes, but for most of us it tends to land right in the middle.

I was fortunate enough to have a time in my life (approx. ages 17-21) where music mattered more to me than anything in the world. Where trips to other cities were always about music first, many times getting home bruised and battered at four in the morning only to wake for work at 830. I can remember living in a townhouse with my friend Aaron, being forced to crawl up the stairs to my bedroom after a night of furious dancing had all but shut down my muscular system. I'd never felt better... and many of these guys were at fault.


Obviously, those times are gone. Some of the people that shared those days with me are married, living on the other side of the country, or in some cases no longer with us. We've parted ways and moved on, we have new lives, and we've had new experiences. Some of us are still in regular contact (that reminds me to call Matt tonight), some of us are almost strangers these days. However, nothing is stranger to me than what has become of the once proud home of these bands... Bogart's.

I can remember like yesterday standing in the cold, lined up around the block, fighting off bums and gutter punks for the twenty dollars in my pocket. We expected the car to be towed, we expected to get punched in the face, we expected to fall down, hurt our heads, and come up covered in someone else's bodily fluid... and we couldn't have been more excited.

The drive was long, seemed even longer on the way home. However, nothing could beat the feeling of the Cincinnati Skyline sliding up on the horizon. It seemed like grass and trees for hours, then like a beautiful mirage the city was looming on the horizon... welcome to Ohio, you've made it, paradise was just a few exits and one nightmare parking situation away.

The doors would open on the same dirty club that you'd seen a thousand times, but each time seemed brand new. Make your way past the terribly unpleasant security guards, fork over your ticket, and when you see this sign, you're in.

These days Bogart's bills itself as a cleaner cut all around rock club. Long gone are the acts like NOFX, Bad Religion, Teen Idols, Suicide Machines, and The Mad Caddies. We've traded them away for Darryl Worley, Michelle Branch, Hanson, Aaron Carter, and something called the Nintendo Fusion Tour.

Of course, I realize that I can't suspend time or ask everything to stay exactly as it was almost a decade ago. I can, however, spend the next ten years bitching about how it did... and that's exactly what I plan to do.

UPDATE!

The votes are in and Nathan Johnson can rest easy knowing that he is, in fact a heterosexual. Daylan Kinser, however, didn't fare quite so well. With an overwhelming 63% of the vote, we have confirmed that Daylan is, in fact a homosexual. Congratulations on your new lifestyle, Daylan. Years and years of bigotry, homophobia, and sensible shoes await you.

SPY PHOTOS!

After successfully toppling the dreaded Soda Popinski (thanks Wendy) I found myself at a loss. I desperately needed a new hobby, but where to turn? Thanks to the good people at Google I have found it! Ladies and Gentleman, I present the handiwork of "Google Earth!"

Google Earth is a nifty little program that can be downloaded from the Google website for the low, low price of free. This tiny download cooperates with your dsl or other broadband connection to search the planet, address by address, to find satellite photos of just about anything. For example, take a look at my old apartment on Meadowthorpe, the home of Killa, Mamma, Bobo, Libor Cabel, and so many other characters that have enriched our lives!

Pretty neat, eh? Of course, most people spend their time looking for the Eiffel Tower, Great Wall of China, and other boring old landmarks. I, however, prefer to look for far more relevant landmarks. For example, how about the asskickin'est apartment in all of the Racquet Club? Oh yeah, I'm talking about the 4-1-0!

It's amazing, you can just see the rock, can't you? It's as if at any moment the roof may actually catch fire, be raised off of the building, or succumb to some other type of urban slang. But, as we all know, if there's one thing that you think of when you think 4-1-0, it's most certainly urban slang... well, anything urban... except maybe Keith... he's in Nashville... but not Glastonbury... ah, hell with it.

Brace yourself, this may be the most amazing one yet! Not only can you find a house, but if you know the secret code, you can even zoom in close enough to see the OCCUPANTS! After trading a grilled cheese sandwich, an Ale-8, and a lock of Kevin Hall's hair to a nervous Injun on the first full moon of the month I was blessed with this code. With a few simple keystrokes I was able to not only find a Shoney's in Gatlinburg, but zoom all the way into a table at that Shoney's! Who did I find enjoying a the breakfast bar, why none other than Private Pyle himself, JIM NABORS!

Shazam! Shazam! Shazam!

Look at the detail in that photograph! Pretty amazing stuff, I must say. It's as if he just jumps right out of the picture! Unfortunately I couldn't get a wide enough shot to include his breakfast, but I can assure you, he was having pancakes.

So check out Google Earth today! Explore the world without leaving your home or office, spy on your friends, eat breakfast with Jim Nabors... the world is your oyster!

Nanotube water doesn't freeze, bitches!

I have laughed at this all morning. I may continue to laugh until I die. Promise me you'll read the whole article, the payoff is near the end.

Hooray for the Paraquats!

In honor of the surging, second place Human Paraquats I thought I'd take some time to introduce you to the wonderful world of paraquatery.

As Aaron pointed out, the paraquat is a highly toxic chemical (thanks CDC). Commonly it's used to destroy plants by infecting the unsuspecting foliage at the roots, then quickly rotting away the exposed plant goodness. As far as Mr. Jeff Lebowski goes, well it was the most common herbicide used to destroy marijuana (sorry guys).

However, there is yet another Paraquat that deserves a mention. Legendary KMET DJ Pat "Paraquat" Kelley.

The original Human Paraquat

From 1977-1987 Paraquat Kelley ruled the airwaves of Los Angeles, pioneering a comedic style that went on to influence much of modern "shock" radio. Kelley maintained a vital radio presence in Los Angeles until the unfortunate arrival of major corporate radio shut down the old timey D.J.

For those of you that remember, Tom Petty's "The Last DJ" was written about KMET DJ Jim Ladd, a contemporary of Kelley's. Apparently Ladd ran the song into the ground up on it's release, but wouldn't you do the same if Tom Petty wrote a song about you?

Kelley, however, was no stranger to the songwriting craft himself. In 1985 he penned the Dr. Demento classic, "Fish Song" with a pre Van Halen Sammy Hagar. The song was essentially a flop, playing once on KMET (07-07-1985) but that spin caught the right ears and eventually landed him a gig on the station.


The last known whereabouts of Paraquat Kelley were still Southern California where he works in real estate and has started several screenwriting projects. What could the future hold? Only time will tell. But I say let's go out there tonight and win one for Paraquat Kelly! GO TEAM!

5 bucks a gallon for gas? Expert sees it in 2006

August 17, 2005

BY MARK J. KONKOL Transportation Reporter

If you think all this flirting with $3-a-gallon gas is already a pain in the pocketbook, brace yourself.

Oil expert Craig Smith predicts gas prices will skyrocket next year, jumping to five bucks a gallon.

And if terrorists successfully strike a major Middle East oil field, Americans might end up paying $10 a gallon -- about $110 to fill a Ford Focus' 11-gallon tank.

Smith, a self-proclaimed geopolitical know-it-all hawking his new book Black Gold Stranglehold, says Americans -- tree-hugging politicians and car-addicted commuters alike -- should blame themselves for the coming spike in prices.

"Why are they charging higher prices for gas? Because people will pay it. Apparently, we're not changing our driving habits much," he said. "Blame this on ourselves. This country has not built a new refinery in 30 years, we stopped new oil exploration . . . and put a moratorium on offshore drilling."

Smith -- who last year predicted $3-a-gallon gas and $65-a-barrel crude oil prices this year -- says oil prices will jump to $80 a gallon by the end of 2006.

On Tuesday, the national average was $2.52 a gallon, according to AAA. And the price of gas topped $3 here last week.

If you don't believe the average cost of gas will double in 12 months, Smith points to places such as Hong Kong, Korea and France, where gas prices regularly top the $5 mark.

The solution here for high oil prices: "find it, drill it, refine it and burn it" domestically, Smith said, pointing to untapped crude reserves in Alaska, Colorado, Utah, off the California coast and in the Gulf of Mexico.

As some of you may be aware, I have a new obsession in my life. What is it you ask? Well, here's a hint
I have, literally, played hours and hours of Mike Tyson's Punch Out over the last week, but I've run into a disturbing problem. I no longer possess the awesome video gaming abilities that I had when I was seven years old. As everyone else remembers, after mastering the timing and coordination the game became a snap. You could roll through the guys like a well oiled machine (that is, until you hit Super Macho Man and got the crap kicked out of you).

Unfortunately, I've now hit the wall. Public Enemy #1 with a bullet is this man!

That's right, SODA POPINSKI! For whatever reason I can NOT seem to topple the #4 ranked contender on this damn game. It's driving me absolutely mad. I don't think it would be as big of a crisis had I not regularly made quick work of the guy back in my younger days, but now I'm stumped. I've even brought in my peers to take a shot at the guy, no luck.

Since I'm now looking at this game through the eyes of an adult, I'm able to make some observations that I clearly missed at age seven. First, it's fun to enjoy the incredible stereotyping going on in this game. The Spaniard with the rose in his mouth, the Indian Guy with the turban and tiger, the extremely weak Frenchman. However, the most exaggerated of all stereotypes has to be Soda, the drunk, nasty Commie. Being that this game did come out in 1987, Popinski clearly hails from the U.S.S.R. I'm not sure if you've brushed up on your history lately, but you may remember that we had a little feud going on with those guys.

The most amusing part is the obvious (and poor quality) censorship of Popinski. By calling him "Soda" and writing the word "soda" on the bottle that he never stops guzzling, we're to assume that he's drinking some harmless "soda" pop... and boy is that funny. Unfortunately, the good people at Nintendo forgot to change his catch phrases in between rounds.

For example:

"I can't drive, so I'm gonna walk all over you!"

"After you lose, we'll drink to your health! Ha,ha,ha!"

"I drink to prepare for a fight. Tonight I am very prepared!"

"I'm gonna make you feel punch drunk!"



Clearly, the man is a drunk Russian. And if there's one thing that the 80's, a little paranoia, and countless Arnold Schwarzenegger movies have taught me it's that Russians do nothing all day except drink and come up with evil plans to conquer the world... Soda Popinski was no exception. I'm not particularly sure why, but the 80's seemed to be the official decade of angry Russian boxers. Go figure.


Anyway, if anyone has any helpful hints on toppling the might Soda Popinski, please leave them in the comment box below. I'll give a special prize to any strategy that gets me past this guy and on to Super Macho Man wearing my ass out for days at a time. Thanks in advance!

Just for me

Finally, definitive proof that the end times are upon us.

Gas is now nearly 2.70 a gallon. Could someone explain this to me? We've hijacked the 2nd largest oil supply on the planet, yet I can't afford to drive to Kroger. Larry said he'd riot when it hit 2.50, i can only imagine what he'll do when it hits 3 dollars a gallon... but I'd say we'll get to find out in the next couple of months.

Woo Hoo! Back in full effect with the trivia... nizzle.

A quality score at Peppers and a quality score at Malabu and we're in the mix! Score updates come out tomorrow, I'll be posting all relevant information.

This is the last page of a WWII era Japanese handbook.
Wow.

If you have trouble reading what's written, this link will pop a larger version.

Man, am I disappointed. For about five minutes this morning I had a really good blog entry. It took a great deal of work, was painstakingly laid out, and I was proud of it. Unfortunately my terrific layout in the creation window didn't translate very well to the actual blog and everything looked like crap.

Anyway, just as a teaser, here are some snippets. All that I'll tell you is that it's about metal, it was funny, and it contained a ton of images. It could have been great. It could have become a legend. Alas, it will never be.





Yes, that's Michael Dukakis, and he loves metal... or at least he would have.

Alright people, I've had it up to here with people calling my dear friend Nathan Johnson a homo. Ok, so he likes hair care products, and ninjas... lots of big sweaty ninjas, but that doesn't make a man a homosexual! This name calling must come to an end, why, look at what I saw attached to the trunk of a car just this morning!

These ribbons are for the troops people, not for calling Nathan a Homo! It's amazing the lengths to which some people will go to call people a Homo. Ribbons on the car, that's shameful.

But just when you thought the ribbons were inexcusable, look at what some local churches have decided to preach this Sunday!

Is a man's reputation not safe in a house of God!?

So, I've decided to put this to rest, once and for all with the Ultimate Nathan Poll. Vote early, and vote often (actually, it's one vote per person, so make it count). We'll get to the bottom of this mess. And for God's sake leave the debate to the voting booth, hasn't Nathan suffered enough?

Voting will be enabled for one week, with the results announced on this website!

Originally I was going to write some over the top stuff about the whole Phil Collins/Bone Thugs N' Harmony merger of a few years back (inspired by this photo)
However, while working on thatI found an older picture of Phil online and was astounded at what I found. Phil Collins is the illegitimate father of Mitch Hedberg!

How creepy is that. I just managed to spend about five minutes putting those two pictures together, and ten staring at them. I think there's a limey in the woodpile folks... no wonder he's smiling like that.

PEACE

LOVE

HARMONY

Sometime last week I found myself discussing a Something Awful photoshop contest with Aaron, only to find that somehow he had managed to miss out on the goodness. So, as a favor to him, and I assure you everyone else, I've included a link to what may be my all time favorite SA Photoshop Phriday post, "Mix Up in the Prop Department."

Perhaps the second greatest picture of all time.