An Arcturian's Evaluation

Uxetar beamed aboard on his Arcturian space vessel.  He would miss some of the friends he had made on Earth, during his 142nd year old study of the inhabitants on the blue planet, below, but he missed the serenity of his own home and his Arcturian companions.  After 142 Earth years of observation of the human species, Uxetar had suddenly materialized on the transport platform, realizing what he would miss most about the human contactees he had associated himself with and what he wouldn't miss. His feelings, statistics and observations were all in his report.

Another Arcturian appeared before him.  Ogaim was another fellow Arcturian.  He was a bit smaller than Uxetar and his skin was more of a greenish hue in color.  Uxetar, realizing he was still in human form, morphed into his natural form and more closely resembled the appearance of an Arcturian.  Ogaim welcomed him to step closer to the holographic image of Earth which was positioned in the middle of the science room of the space vessel.  Ogaim was acutely interested in what Uxetar was about to present to him and hear his evaluation.

Before Uxetar could begin to go over his evaluation, Ogaim looked at the live image of Earth and calmly stated, "Look. Another war on Earth."

Uxetar said, "Most likely the end result of a group of people saying something perceived as being negative towards another group of people and their god or idea during the present era."

Ogaim replied, "Or the violence could be over natural resources or a cover for the real reason to make war with another nation."

"With this planet's inhabitants, you can never tell for sure until you read the minds of the handlers who hold the power and hoard the money for their own agendas," explained Uxetar.

Uxetar continued, "Most of the species do not engage in violent action every day.  Some of them, during different intervals of their lifetimes engage, by word or actions, positive notions, expressions of themselves and activities.  They do this by helping the less fortunate by sheltering or feeding them.  Holding a person's hand to comfort them.  Showing signs of concern for animals and caring for them.  I could go on.  But this is all in my evaluation, as you will read."

"I really like the humans who are artistic and have a sense of humor, as well," Uxetar pointed out.  He showed Ogaim, the senior scientist on the Arcturian space vessel, a video clip.  Uxetar said, "Take this dance routine, for example.  It combines both elements of human artistic expression.  Uxetar giggled, aloud, at Ogaim's facial expressions as they watched the video.

This is what Uxetar showed Ogaim:



Uxetar patted his fellow Arcturian on the back and said, "Sometimes their odd and humorous antics can have you overlooking their grievous flaws.  Their sense of humor and other genuinely sensitive attributes benefit one another, greatly."

Ogaim looked over at Uxetar and said, "Well, their forms of entertainment and levity have changed, quite substantially, since I was last dwelling with them nearly 400 earth years ago for my own study period.  That much is certain."

Uxetar leaned over to the right and cut a long, sputtering fart.  Afterwards, he stared at Ogaim and smiled.

Ogaim said, "But that form of entertainment and amusement isn't new."

Grinning for a bit, Ogaim once again regained his serious composure.

He asked Uxetar, "Now tell me about their negative aspects and actions."

Uxetar folded his three fingered hands and glanced down at his report on the table.

With a look of solemn discernment on his face, Uxetar explained, "The more generally violent types of humans might use weapons of mass destruction, in the near future, in the name of their religion or their lack of resources and/or their ideology. Also, large groups of people in a nation have been told lies, repeatedly, as well, until the lies are believed by the majority under the cover of a patriotic redundant chant and thought.  Instead of doing their own thinking and giving themselves a reality check, so to speak, they will do the bidding of the great money and power holders of the world and go to war with a militarily weaker country.

Many people over many of the wars fought during my 142 years of observation there have died for incomprehensible reasons that have never really been revealed to those who fight or rally behind the fighters until a small time has passed or after they have died and been forgotten.

The money and power holders and behind the scenes corrupters "pull the strings" of many majorities on Earth, so to speak.  Meanwhile, there are those who know the truth and are content with distracting themselves with being a part of a rigid system of laws, some of which, lack sense, and acceptable rules of behaviors they have placed upon themselves, their obsessions with their workplace, their idle entertainments, their electronic gadgets and more.  Then you have those that absolutely don't care what is happening to them or their loved ones.  Still, there are few who know the reality of their mass group situation and attempt to cause a positive outcome so all will benefit.  And then you have a few Earth inhabitants who don't know their assholes from table lamps."

Ogaim looked at his friend, Uxetar and said, "One can tell you've spent a considerable amount of time on Earth, Uxetar.  Your unique expressions give you away."

Ogaim smiled.  Uxetar shrugged, smiled and then said, 'Shit happens when you spend so much time in one place."

Uxetar continued by saying, "One of their greatest, widely ignored threats, however, is global warming and climate change.  Those who have control of the upper echolons of status, which is fueled by power and money, ultimately persuade or threaten those would could easily tell the truth of their situation and move in a positive direction, away from fossil fuel dependence and other pollutants that damage the Earth's atmosphere and create chaos with the weather patterns.  They are experiencing, as I'm sure you're well aware from our space vessel's scanner and computers, volatility and more extremities in their weather during the last one hundred years."

Ogaim said, "Yes, it is extremely noticeable to me and most likely to anyone living down on Earth."

Uxetar shook his head and replied, "Yet they still choose to engage in ignorant behavior with these wars, their destructive polluting of the air they and their children breathe and the greed which induces them to erratic, damaging actions."

Ogaim stated, simply, "Uncommon self destructive behavior for such a species that has advanced technologically, throughout the centuries, with their level of intelligence."

Uxetar replied, "But not uncommon for those who possess such intelligence yet are not emotionally advanced enough to balance their technology."

"Still," Uxetar claimed, "They may unite one day when they are on the brink of extinction.  We've seen it many times before with other inhabitants on an alien planet.  Whether they are too late to undo the damage, change course and seriously rethink their goals and agendas remains to be seen."

Ogaim quietly replied, "One hopes they will realize what is important in their lives and unite for their own well being and divert extinction."

Ogaim reminded himself that it was against their Arcturian nature to directly change the course of another planet's inhabitants.  Humans would have to learn, adapt and change on their own.  In time, the Humans might embrace peace, instead of war and work together to conquer their worldwide ills.  Both Ogaim and Uxetar still held a small amount of hope for this to occur.

Uxetar thought of all the accumalitive friends he had made on Earth, during his 142 Earth years there with them, remembering their thoughtful gestures, wise words, love, good humor and nodded, in remembrance and in agreement with what Ogaim had just said.  The Arcturian wished them well and gave Ogaim the entire evaluation.

Having Fun With Those Absurd Agree and Disagree Applications

In this economy, employers should be asking the right questions. If you're one of those people applying for work, I can help you, if you ask, nicely.

While helping out a friend fill out a resume and some job applications the other day, I was starting to understand why she was getting so frustrated.  Those applications, online or offline, that ask you if you strongly disagree, disagree, neither agree or disagree, agree and so on can be confusing and, to be brief, just plain stupid .

There were a lot of applications like that, that she was filling out.  Quite a few of them didn't ask much information regarding what skills she had or where she worked all her life.  Most of the time, the way the questions were asked, were more of the confusing psychological type that wanted to play a game of absurd therapy with you instead of being direct and asking pertinent questions.

I liked it better, in the old days, which wasn't that long ago, really, where the employer would ask you for recommendations from other people.  Some cared if those came recommendations from family or friends or people you had worked with and worked for. Then they would ask for your work history.  All of this, to me, is acceptable.  You know.  Where have you worked?  How long, did you work, at each place? You would make a list of your skills, too and check a page or two full of those questions, pertaining to your skills.   Those questions, I can truly accept and understand.  I can get behind logic like that.

And a lot of these "Strongly Agree and Strongly Disagree situation and feelings questions" leave out important details and/or a lot to be interpreted wrongly, too.

You can try to convince me, if you want to waste your time, that the employers, these days, have you fill out the stupid agree and disagree questions for reasons that would make them believe you're not a thief or a sociopath or any other type of undesirable person.  I'm just not buying into it.  Be straight or be gone, moronic employer!  That's what I'd say to those employers looking to play psychological games with an application and the applicant.  I don't play games with people, no matter who they are.

This friend wanted my help in trying to figure out the confounding questions, sometimes, and I helped before I got to the point where I wanted to bang my head on the wall, in frustration.  I think we ended up looking at four of them in one day and while she filled them out.  Now, that my friends, was really work.

People are going to lie, most of the time, anyway, with these silly multiple choice questionnaires.  There are no guarantees in this society that someone isn't going to go from behaving normally to going, suddenly, batshit crazy and kill everyone in a office cubicle or in a warehouse. People know what their potential employer wants to hear or see when they check off on the options on the forms, electronic or not, given to them.  If they don't, I neither strongly agree or strongly disagree that the applicant will be living in their parent's basements all of their unnatural lives until their bones turn to dust mites.  Depends on the person's work habits and what place they want to get hired on as an employee.  Depends on a lot of things that would take a lifetime to explain, in truth.

This is where ordinary human robots can be found.  The typical office.  The supervisor is your overlord.  He demands obedience or else.

Still, all in all, I'm looking to hire some people for my next project.  But first, you will have to pass a test involving cage fights with genetically enhanced pythons with 7 inch fangs, lovable, smart-mouthed teenagers that scream and foam at the mouth, if they don't have the latest smart phone on the market, along with a team of circus midgets, riding ferocious polar bears.

You'll all be put in a cage to prove your mettle and that you're qualified for the job.  If you survive, you will be asked to fill out (this is just a sample) the following questionnaire.  There are a lot of similarities between this one and the ones my friend encountered and had to fill out.  Believe me!

_________________________________________________

I'm a team player most of the time.
_Strongly Agree
_Strongly Disagree
_Neither Agree or Disagree
_Agree
_Disagree

You will listen to a co-workers complaints, about a task given to them, then try to assist them.

_Strongly Agree
_Agree
_Neither Agree or Disagree
_Disagree
_Strongly Disagree

You wish to sell a product that a customer thinks may be over priced.  They're wearing a Batman mask and a pair of ruby red slippers (a la Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz).  You try to convince he or she to buy the coffee maker.

_Strongly Disagree
_Disagree
_Neither Disagree or Agree
_Agree
_Strongly Agree

A supervisor gives you lengthy criticism over the way you spoke to a customer on a Thursday afternoon, around 9:24, when the workplace had been suddenly overran by deadly spiders and wicked prostitutes.  You say, "Thank you, sir.  I enjoy pasta," in response.

_Strongly Disagree and Strongly Agree
_I'm not sure if I stopped my car, completely, at that one stop sign this morning
_Zena: The Warrior Princess, could probably answer this question.  Something just tells me this to be true.
_Agree
_Cantaloupe

Your day's work has been destroyed by a fire but your employer wants you to start back from scratch and will not be pleased until you finish the work.  Seeing that you're about to pass out from the fumes, she offers you a carrot.  A coworker later walks past you, pinches their hardened, fully erect left nipple and continues walking, while singing a show tune.

_Strongly Agree
_Strongly Disagree
_Strongly Have a Boner
_Strongly Eat the Carrot
_Strongly Shake Your Head and Wonder How You Got Here

Your co-workers and employer throw you a surprise birthday party on company time.  You open the gift that everyone but that one tight ass chipped in to buy you.  It turns out to be a worn out, heavily dented, wooden, sticky pencil.  You show an excited exuberance, toward the gift, that would put Las Vegas showgirls to shame, by comparison.

_Strongly Agree but do it with a side of Small Disagreement mixed with obvious apathy
_Agree
_ I want to make up my mind, but I'm missing the instruction booklet
_Disagree
_I will or I won't go on quest to find rainbow colored unicorns that enjoy consuming carrots or placing them deep in their anuses

This must be you, on any given work day.

One of your handicapped co-workers asks you for a favor, giving you the correct amount of money for the task, that involves you getting them a soft drink from the vending machine.

_Strongly Disagree to scream at them like a horrid banshee from the depths of hell
_Strongly Disagree to drool at the corner of your mouth but Strongly Agree that they should rise from their wheelchair.  Why? Because you have given them the power to become healed and heal the sick and impaired, themselves.  Your magic is just that strong.  Wow.
_Tickle their belly, instead.
_Strongly Agree to cut a fart.
_Strongly Agree that, sometimes, crazy people and their erratic behaviors just aren't worth putting up with, no matter how bad you want the money, the job or to get along with "your team" or your fellow species.

This is just a small sampling of my application questionnaire.  I wish you luck. You will be contacted, if you are to have an actual person to person meeting with me, with even more insipid questions asked, when I feel like responding to you.  Good day!

Asmodeus' Astounding Circus (The Final Chapter)

Ah yes, long time, no see, everyone.  But I'm here now, for the moment, to delight and enthrall you all with the long overdue ending to a short series about a circus.  If you haven't read any of the installments or even if you need to re-read these fine, literary masterpieces once again to jog your memory on the storyline and characters...  Here are the following links to help you out in making even the slightest sense of past and present events and be entertained as all get out.  Woo hoo!

Auditions For The Circus

Second Round of Auditions For The Circus

Ringmaster Gregario excitedly went up to the circus ticket booth and asked, "So how many tickets have we sold for the big show?"

There was a line of adults and kids, eagerly waiting to step inside the big circus tent and be seated.

Trixie, who had before been a bubbly, beautiful blonde college girl went through a transformation, of sorts, after the circus owner, Asmodeus, escorted her away after her audition, many months ago and took the twenty something year old back to his own private mansion.

Being a demon (a fairly horny one, at that), Asmodeus had mesmerized Trixie with his charm and evil influence to seduce the giddy blonde.  Soon, Trixie found herself taking off her clothes, revealing her perky breasts and shaven pussy.  The demon circus owner took Trixie by the hand and easily grabbed her with one  powerful arm and tossed her on the bed.  For three nights straight, they fucked without a break.  The experiences Trixie endured caused her to almost lose her mind, completely.

Answering Gregario's question, Trixie slowly looked up from where she sat and said, with slow deliberation and with menace in her tone, "The fuckers just keep coming to see the show."

Trixie giggled slightly, seeming to change in her mood, grabbing a big wad of cash and sales receipts from her cash drawer and thrust it up towards the ringmaster's face.

"See?" Trixie asked.

Gregario nodded approvingly at what he saw before Trixie. Without warning, Trixie viciously grabbed Asmodeus' most trusted assistant by the crotch of his black pants with her free hand.

"AHHH!" screamed Gregario, quickly backing away from the ticket booth and Trixie's grasp.

Several customers looked where the scream had come from.  This got the attention of a pack of red eyed wolves.  Asmodeus' personal pets looked up from the half eaten human skull they had been gnawing on and growled toward the attendees.  Gonza, the large muscle-bound Head of Security came out of the side of the tent and confronted the customers.

"We have a problem here?" asked Gonza, threateningly.

The customers shook their heads, showing they had no problems, but were still very obviously shaking with fear.

An hour later, everyone was allowed to go into Asmodeus' Astounding Circus and take their seats.

A troupe of clown midgets entered from a hidden side room, in a multi-colored vehicle, with a pentagram sign on every side of the car.  The car stopped in the center of the stage.  One of the car doors opened.  Soon, The infamous Blutarsky Brothers came tumbling out.  All of them had bulbous heads, had extreme toe fungus and were mentally impaired.  The crowd let out various sounds of surprise.

Ringmaster Gregario walked up to the center stage, in front of the family of disheveled clown midgets and cried out, into his microphone, "Ladies, gentleman and children of all ages, it gives me a special kind of thrill to present to you the most amazing acts you'll ever witness in your lifetimes!"

Gregario waved his hand and pointed to the clown midgets that had painted faces.  Some of them were crossing their eyes and shaking their heads.  One had a permanent smile on his face.  Luscious, the member of the group who had undergone a botched sex change surgery, courtesy of one of "her" brothers and his handy knife, in order to become a man, stepped out in front of his brothers.  Luscious had tiny breasts, thanks to hormone therapy and a couple of sewn upon hairless gopher butt cheeks, but the vagina of the clown midget was far from perfect.

Tension and anticipation filled the air.

Isa, the eldest member joined her son, Luscious, who was dressed in a small, sparkly pink tutu.

The old ringmaster handed Isa, the mother of the 7 performing midgets, the microphone.

Isa announced, "My name is Isa, mother of my Russian babies, the ones you may know as The Blutarsky Brothers.  Tonight, we will show you our talents and you will soon gaze upon us with wonder.  Watch and fill your ugly American hearts with joy!"

With that said, Gonza brought in a handcuffed and shackled blubbery man in a size XXXL sweatsuit.  He was sweating, profusely, and had a collection of bruises upon his face.  Gonza thrust the obese man on his hands and knees.

Ringmaster Gregorio took a flask of whiskey from his back pocket, downed a swig from it and put it back in his pocket before explaining into his microphone, "This man was found to be attempting to sneak into the circus tent without paying."

Gregorio tipped his big black top hat toward the man as the man groaned in pain.

Continuing, Gregorio said, "This man will be given something special for his efforts."

The fat guy whimpered as Isa and Luscious took their places.  Both clown midgets lay on their backs on either side of the trapped man who Gonza securely chained to a metal platform.  Luscious spread open her legs and pulled the bottom of her tutu off, slinging part of the costume to the side.  She had a tattoo of a snake on her cunt lip.  Isa took off her polka-dotted, over-sized clown pants and spread her legs, in unison, with her son.  A few moments passed before Isa's legs rubbed furiously together, creating sparks of fire.  Luscious mimicked her mother's furious leg movements. Meanwhile, a fast moving stream of fire, much like a flamethrower, came shooting out of their cunts as their tiny legs furiously kicked up and down.

In awe, the crowd was spellbound and became perfectly silent as the gluttonous man's head began to catch afire.  He screamed in agony.  Gregorio, Gonza and the rest of the clown midgets laughed, heartily.  In only a few seconds, the man was totally engulfed in flames, shouting for mercy and receiving none.  Soon, his crispy corpse smoldered for a moment before crumpling into a stinking heap of ashen flesh.

Gonza and Gregorio shoveled the victims smoking remains in a nearby metal garbage vat.  What wasn't completely crispy would be fed to the hungry wolves, later.

Nervously, the crowd applauded, fearing what might happen if they did not show satisfaction of the clown midgets' amazing tricks.  One man, however, showed no fear and announced his displeasure.

The man, famous for his many quirky and comedic movie roles, stood up and said, "I don't think that was right."

Gregorio put down his shovel and picked up his microphone. Into his mike, Gregorio inquired, "And who might you be to think yourself capable of judging what's fair and what's not?"

The film actor stated, "Steve Buscemi, that's who."

Gonza quickly retrieved him from the stands.  Buscemi struggled, frantically, and groaned in protest, desperately trying to free himself of Gonza's mighty grip.

Buscemi was chained to the metal platform, begging to be released, promising to give them substantial amounts of money if they let him go.

A clown midget named Jeepo appeared, did a cartwheel in front of the actor and completed an admirable back-flip, flapping his arms like a bird, before coming down head first onto the metal platform and bashing his head in, making a clanging, crunching noise that could be heard from the stands.  A pool of blood gathered on the platform as Jeepo moaned.  One of his clown midget brothers, Trotsky, came out, pulled down his pants and scratched his taint before dragging his injured brother off the stage.

Ivan, another clown midget performer, came running out.  Stretching his arms outward, Ivan stood still and shouted, "Ta-Da!"

Ivan turned around and looked at the chained actor in the middle of the stage.  The clown midget slapped his face, for comic relief and made a tiny "O" with his mouth to appear as if he was surprised at the actor's predicament.

Without hesitation, Ivan pulled his gigantic pecker from his neon green clown pants and pointed it toward Buscemi.

Ringmaster Gregorio asked the audience, "So do ya think Steve is going to have to do some suckin'?"

The audience collectively gasped.  Buscemi's eyes grew wider than they ever had gotten during the filming of his past movies.

Abruptly, Ivan took a firm hold of his meat sword and quickly shot bullets from his pee hole.  Each bullet went through Steve Buscemi's head as if it were made of facial tissue.  Blood and fleshy bits flew everywhere.  In a matter of seconds, there was nothing sitting on the actor's shoulders but a deformed pulp of bloody mush and some bits of skull mixed in.

The wolves rushed in, eyes red and glowing, and ate most of the actor's body, tearing his corpse apart.

Trotsky and another brother, Dragoff, came running out with their tarp.  Some audience members chuckled at the sight of their little legs moving so quickly.  Both brothers threw the tarp on Buscemi's disgusting remains and ran back where they came from, doing the occasional cartwheel, along the way.  Everyone applauded their comical antics.  Trotsky raised his leg and cut a fart so loud and with such force, the back of his  little clown pants exploded.

Unable to resist the current spotlight, Dragoff came back to the center stage and stuck the wooden handle of a bloody shovel up his rectum and balanced himself on it, straight up from the surface.  The sharpened tip of the shovel was embedded into the ground, several inches deep.

Ivan ran out and blared toward the crowd, "Ta-da!" After saying this, the clown midget promptly pissed his pants.

At that point, though, Dragoff sunk downward upon the shovel handle and found himself impaled upon it. Waving his arms like a pinwheel, his arms seemed like they blurred, in motion, to the audience.  Suddenly, Dragoff's colon was busted open by the wooden handle.  It didn't help that Ivan took the opportunity to jump on his back, hoping to share the spotlight.  A moment went by before the handle went all the way through Dragoff's small body and exited out of his mouth before plunging through Ivan's right eye socket.  Both circus performers screamed and tumbled, smashing forward into the hard, unforgiving ground.

Teeth, blood, bits of exploded colon and gore spilled forth in rivers from where they lay, motionless.

A teenager cheered and texted to her friend the act she had just witnessed.  She texted:

OMG!  I JUST SAW TWO CLOWN MIDGETS DIE BEFORE MY EYES.  THEY WERE HILARIOUS!

One audience member clutched his chest, unsure how much more he could take.  His wife, sitting next to him, patted her husband on the back and said, reassuringly, "It's going to be okay, honey.  These people are really multi-talented."

Asmodeus, demon in disguise and the owner of the circus joined Trixie, arm in arm.  Both of them had just made an entrance and took center stage.  Asmodeus noticed the man who was clutching his heart and politely asked, shouting toward him, "Do you feel a pain in your chest, sir?"

The man shook a bit, sweating and then said, "I'll be... fine."

With that, Trixie pulled her arm slowly away from Asmodeus' arm.  Like a frightening wraith, the once pretty, buxom blonde traveled up the bleachers and stood in front of the man who believed that he was about to have a heart attack.

Trixie curled her finger, slowly and beguilingly,until the man felt he should move his face closer to the pale woman's figure.  She was whispering something under her breath.  The man's wife said, "Go ahead, Sweety Pie," she coaxed, "The lady wants to probably show you a neat trick."

The man shuddered and nervously asked, "Are you a magician?"


Trixie lunged forward and stuck her forked tongue deep into the man's mouth, giving him a french kiss from hell.  Despite his extreme fear, the man achieved a sizable erection.  Trixie's long, snake-like tongue roamed around the inside of the man's trembling mouth.

Asmodeus suddenly ran up to the man, the wife and Trixie and then declared, "You're openly flirting with my woman!  How dare thee!"

Horns sprouted from Asmodeus' head and he quickly transformed into his real identity. The frightening form of a demon stood before the aroused husband.  Asmodeus' eyes glowed, red and fiery.  The demon circus owner clutched the man's neck and thrust upward, popping the victim's head off from his body like the cork of a champaign bottle.

The head bounced from one bleacher seat onto the next until it finally plopped in a young woman's nachos and cheese.  She was sitting in the front row, way down below.  Nachos and cheese flew everywhere.  Melted cheese and human blood splattered against her shirt.  Instead of wondering about or doing anything about the mess or the decapitated head, she immediately took an electronic device from her handbag and texted her friend about how a human head landed, suddenly, in her nachos and cheese and how hard it would be to get the stains out of her shirt.

Meanwhile, Asmodeus was still enraged about Trixie's transgression against him.  Instead of taking his anger out on her, however, he killed the man who had recently had a forked tongue dive into his mouth.   Asmodeus' big red arms steamed.  The arms of the demon rose above his head and the sides of the tent began to catch on fire.  Everyone screamed, panicked and attempted to escape.

Suddenly the wolves with red glowing eyes and bared fangs came pouring into the tent again and began dispatching each circus attendee, who made it to the floor, with joyful and hungry abandon.  Flesh, tattered clothes, phone gadgets, and lakes of blood could be found everywhere inside the tent.

Very few people got out alive that day and Asmodeus' Astounding Circus closed down for several months, disappearing without a trace, until it suddenly sprung up again in jolly old England.

Needless to say, the circus proved to be more popular than the Queen's Diamond Jubilee and the Summer Olympics being held in London, combined.

Asmodeus and Trixie are married now in unholy matrimony.  And Trixie is constantly having to remind Asmodeus, every night, to take out the garbage.  Gosh!

But that's another story.  

Summer Fun Action

What have I been up to?

Enjoying the summer, goddamn it! After 6 months of a harsh, excruciatingly long winter, summer has finally arrived and instead of being bound or limited in what can be done during the past heavy bouts of ice, snow and all that groovy shit, I'm unshackled, free, even, my amigos, to get out and enjoy. My past problems before kept me from posting regularly. Ironically, things are going so well, nowadays, I've been spending most of my time away from the drudgery of lame, indoor activity.

Well, I do make time for cat fisting and fixing a good cup of coffee. That will perk you up. You shouldn't deny yourself the simple things in life, you know.

In any case, I wholeheartedly encourage everyone reading this to get outside right now and go crazy this summer. Put a bundle of firecrackers in your pants, light 'em up and sing "Yank Me Doodle Dandy" till the neighbors call the authorities on you.

Of course, you gals may say, "But Kelly, I wish not to harshly burn my womanly baloney flaps and my cuddly clitoris."

Do it anyway, damn it! Get crackin'! And poppin'! Add some spice and spark to your life! Show 'em who's boss!

You dudes, on the other hand, might point out, "But what about the charred remains of my crispy, deflated testes and my seriously messed up smoking ballsack?"

Oh, boo hoo. Don't be such a crybaby! Put a dab of sunburn cream on your junk and it will all be swell. Take it from the good Dr. Kelly. He'll never steer you wrong.

Speaking of things in your pants, you may want to watch this. It's quite lovely.

A couple weeks ago, I went to my sister's 23rd year wedding anniversary/bonfire party. I saw some friends I hadn't seen in ages. The crinkles around their eyes and the strands of gray in the hair freaked me out. So I said, "You guys are getting old."

They said, "Well, you are, too," almost in unison.

I laughed, took it in stride and shot them all in the head.

Seriously, we had a relaxing, fun time. It could be because we were all fucked up but I think it was the general mood of seeing each other again and the great weather and the food and the liquor and the dog and turkey face off.

Yes, I did record the Dog Vs. Turkey Match of The Millennium with my digital camera. The quality isn't that great but the content is funny. Forgive me or not about the quality. I was quite numb and it took all three of my working brain cells to find the movie camera symbol thingy on the camera dial thingy. Hope I'm not being too technical here.

No animals were hurt during the dog and turkey foreplay right before they finally made sweet, sweet inter-species love to one another, folks. So don't stress out!

Here's the video clip. Listen to our witty dialogue and be amazed! Watch two wild n' crazy beasts go at each other until the bitter dispute ends with tender, oddly arousing lovemaking! For real! Sorry, freaks, I had to edit that last part out. This is a family site, after all.

Before the entertainment, we feasted on grilled burgers, metts, bratwurst, a teriyaki rice dish I made, earlier, and a lot of other good edibles. We didn't kill and eat the turkey this time. It was covered with too much spooge.

During the course of the day and evening, I snapped a lot of shots of sunsets, people, animals, fire and Lord knows what. If you find out, tell me.

OH YEAHHH! And that's just what Randy "Macho Man" Savage said just before he crashed. Too true. Plus, he had a Slim Jim hangin' out of his pie hole when they found him slumped over.

Here are a few of the photos I took throughout the day and night of the party.

There's nothing like staring into the coals and flames of a raging bonfire. Very peaceful. It really eases the worries of the day and allows your mind to wander into tranquil territories.

We decided not to throw our friend, Marty, into the bonfire that night because, even though he has lost some muscle mass due to his MS disease, he's still kinda heavy. He still weighs in at 150 pounds. We tried encouraging him to steer his electronic mobile chair thingamajiggy into the fire, himself, to give us a break from hurting our backs from lifting him and possibly interrupting our drunken revelry but he was too lazy.

Damn him.

Normally, we would chase after our sarcastic friend, Greg, tackle him to the ground and take him to the bonfire "to threaten to throw him in" but he couldn't make it because he was working in Kansas.

Damn him, too.

You can see more photos from the party if you click on my photo blog, Pics For Kicks.

I hope everyone has a safe, fun, relaxing summer in the months ahead. It certainly beats where we were with that hellish winter here in the U.S. only a few months ago. I implore you to get out and enjoy nature. Believe it or not, fucking around with your computer or any other electronic device isn't all that.

These past few weeks have been glorious compared to what the situation was for the wife and I only a month ago. Hooray! About time!

While away from the hallowed, frankly ridiculous internet, we saw four movies in the theater.

I grade the following on a scale of 1-10:

Green Lantern gets an 8. Bad Teacher gets a 7. Cars 2 gets an 8. The latest Transformers movie gets an 8, as well.

Besides grilling out, drinking too much, communing with the great outdoors and spending money on a laptop for the wife and going out to eat about every friggin' day, I've recently gotten re-addicted to a computer game I played for years this last week. Just one more reason I haven't been blogging much these days. The game is called Sacred. It's an older hack n' slash RPG but it's still a lot of fun. My character is a Battle Mage named Master Heathen. I hate the pinkish color glow that his wicked magical armor gives off but it doesn't mean shit, really, when you take in the fact that he's really great at disemboweling his enemies with ease and setting them on fire as they continue to scream.

Well, gang, that's all I got for now. For my next post, I'm going to describe, with pictures and words, the big semi-annual flea market we go to every year that's famous for it's muzzle-loading shoots, odd items for sale and freaky folks dressed in leather, coon skin hats and dresses (not necessarily all at once) in nearly one hundred degree heat.

There's a variety of smells in the air, you'll detect, during the week long flea market/muzzle loading shoot. Everything from sweaty meat bags to Elk Burgers piled with sauteed onions.

That upcoming post should be fun. Stay tuned! Stay safe! And don't forget to put the M-80's down your pants and light 'em up to show your special Fourth of July patriotism. We're all counting on you.

Note: I'll try my damnedest to visit your blogs the next couple of days so be prepared.

Bad Service, Truths and Perceptions

There's been a lot of false starts, bad service, unwanted absence and too much of that unwanted shit and not enough of that preferable shit going on around here.

I hate to complain (actually, I quite enjoy it since complaining acts a release valve on my usually bottled up seething rage) but as I found myself on the righteous track of coming back to the wonderful world of blogging, a series of incidents preventing me from making a triumphant stay in my own neck of the bloggy woods occurred once again.

Hell, for a couple days there, I was even able to put out a couple posts without anything falling out of the sky to cave in my head. I thought I was in a utopia or paradise or an island filled with beautiful women, cheerfully sucking my meat pole for all it's worth. And it's worth a great deal, let me tell ya. At least to me. Okay, so that part about me feeling like I was on an island filled with tasty gals slobbering on my knob was an exaggeration. But I was starting to feel not tormented for a change in life and it was pretty decent, to tell ya the truth.

My friend asked me to go to his place to wait on a cable repairman (that didn't come) while the friend went to work. I owed my friend a couple favors so I did it. Besides, I'm a helluva great buddy. It's true! Believe it or not!

But the cable guy neither called or came. So my friend calls up the company support number when he gets home, listens to instructions on pushing this numbered button for this department or reason or service which connects him to more instructions for more buttons to push until he finally reaches a real human being and then proceeds to talk about how unsatisfied he is with the service.

He has a helluva lot more patience than I do. He had been without cable service for three days and the company he was dealing with had been promising to send somebody and no one called or showed up.

So instead of being at home, I was at his place, listening to the radio, reading a book and not doing anything on my blog or visiting other blogs. It sucked. And I did this on Monday and Wednesday, for my friend, waiting for the repair dude. I know. I'm a great friend. I mentioned that, right? Of course, when my friend got home from work both of those days, he fed me. Monday, it was grilled steaks for my wife and I. Wednesday, it was a dinner at a good Mexican restaurant.

By the way, the cable repair dude finally showed up Wednesday. He ended up temporarily fixing the friend's TV reception but said that the problem was actually the tuner on his TV. In other words, it wasn't the cable company's fault for his shitty reception but they are at fault for giving him the runaround and not giving him service until he finally reached an upper management type person during that last phone call he made.

Now, Tuesday, I was without Internet service. This would be the day between the days I sat at my friend's house, waiting for an idiot repair guy. I called the tech support, as I was going through some severe withdrawal symptoms from not being able to go on the Internet and after pushing several buttons to direct me to this number or that number, I was finally told a message by an automated machine. It said: There is no Internet service (with the company I have it with) for the entire state (I was living in) for an indeterminate amount of time but our experts were working on the problem.

There was no apology for this situation but at this point I was thinking:

At least the voice was clear and not heavily accented by somebody in India or Russia or BumFuck, Egypt. Usually, when you contact tech support for whatever electronic fuck-a-ma-jig you own, you usually get some asshole you can't understand.

Bad service is getting to be like a contagious disease in this country from what I've read, heard about and seen, first hand.

Don't ya just love the push button routine you have to go through with these companies? If you're lucky, they might give you a number to push to speak to a representative. But it's usually not the case. Especially when you want service within the next 24 hours.

I could go on and on about bad restaurant service but I'm sure you've had your own unfair share of that, too. Like when they don't give you a refill on your drinks. Or don't get your order right. Or bring your salad, main entree and dessert, all at once.

Since I'm back for the moment and terribly paranoid now about attempting to actually research a subject and write up a real post without something else happening, this post will have to do for now. Please enjoy the rest of these images, featuring truths and perceptions. Good day, good weekend and I'll try to catch up on all your blogs later after I get some shit done around here.

I thought I'd offer a wonderful clue at this point in the post: If you can't make out what you're ssseeeinng, use your fucking mouse to click and enlarge the image.

I'm always the Good fucking Samaritan. I tell ya.

I really liked the not-so-subtle truth that can be found in this Saturday Night Live skit. I know it's an exaggeration but there is a bit of truth and a big heaping helping of humor to be found while watching this. Heh heh.

Mr. Checkers Informs The Public

With as much delight as I can possibly muster, I, Mr. Checkers, reporting the latest news on behalf of Internet sensation, PSYCHO CARNIVAL, am here to inform the public of news and information that really matters a great deal. Hold onto your hats, folks, it's going to be an awfully exciting ride.

* The meat found in food items at Taco Bell restaurants may not be entirely made of ground beef. Astonished, say you? Gosh. Who would have thought? If this seems shocking to you, wait until you read the next tidbit of news. Are you still waiting? Well, stop it and move along, please.

* Cigarettes should not be smoked. They are made of tobacco and poison. Instead, use these cancer sticks as decorative birthday candle casings or tools for magic tricks. Click this link to learn more non-hazardous usages for cigarettes and amaze your friends.

* Hot dogs should not be used for pleasuring your vagina or butt hole. Accidents may occur.Danger, Will Robinson!

* Not long ago, a 93 year old gangster by the name of John "Sonny" Franzese, was sent to prison for eight years. Mr. Checkers has heard of a lot of dumb shit in his time, but this takes the cake and the frosting, too. Why not execute "Sonny" right now? He's not going to live much longer, anyway and it will save the taxpayers a little money by depriving him room and board, courtesy of the rest of us. I say we send the old fucker on his non stop, well-earned journey to hell. Judging by his horrendous crimes, he's had reservations for a seat in the eternal inferno for quite some time.

* I, Mr. Checkers, wants all of you to know that the Great Mystery of The Burned Up Piano On A Sandbar has finally been solved. What a relief! So many have wondered about this amazing, phenomenal event- that it almost made the equally exciting news about Snooki seem tame and not very newsworthy and stuff. It just so happens that a teenager, with obviously a lot of time on his hands, put the fucked up piano on a Miami sandbar because he hoped it might get him into a prestigious art school. It might even get him laid by a smitten admirer of his "artistic" handiwork. Who knows? In any case, Mr. Checkers says, "Good job, dumb ass!"

* Speaking of getting laid... Mr. Checkers is proud to report that he is a member of a species that apparently believes that texting, Facebook and other social networking tools cause new couples to jump into bed faster and get down to business. According to this tantalizing, important news item from Reuters, in the heat of passion, some people just can't get enough of their digital devices. As a matter of fact, Mr. Checkers predicts that manufacturers will soon be equipping their i Pads, cell phones and other electronic thingamajigs with small, yet convenient, pocket pussies and Venus Butterflies for those who are unable to find a love connection by "dickering around" with their ordinary beloved electronic doodads. This type of ingenious thinking has already started to take place, in fact. See here!

This is all that I, Mr. Checkers, has for you now, in regards to news worth knowing about. Tune in next time for more excitement you can't live without and stuff you'll lose sleep over. For more news and information on the downward spiral and insanity our human race celebrates and enjoys, just look around or watch TV or go out in public. The PSYCHO CARNIVAL of life is out there and in here for you to partake, revel in and completely lose what's left of your mind.

Arrivederci!

Life Lessons From Father To Son

Minutes after placing the plastic Santa, sleigh, reindeer, snowman in the yard and decorating the house with many festive lights in order to give Sean's residence the appearance of a typical American home during the much commercialized season, Sean placed his arm around Timmy's shoulder. The 40 year old corporate executive was proud of his accomplishment. It was important, in Sean's mind, that he keep up with the other neighbors' decorated yards in his suburb. He looked down to see if his son was taking in the grandeur of the perfectly well placed decorations and lights, as well. As usual, Timmy was preoccupied with the latest version of his iPod, texting away another irrelevant message to a friend in a long line of trivial messages.

That reminded Sean. He needed to buy himself an upgraded version of an electronic gadget he had bought only a month ago. Texting, instant messaging and twittering was such a vital part of Sean's life and he just had to have the very latest electronic gadget in order to keep up with appearances and to make himself feel just that much more special than anyone who didn't have the latest electronic gadget at the moment. Sean's cars, mansion, big screen TVs, yacht and the rest of his possessions meant everything to him. After all, Sean thought, your portfolio, your money and the material things you own is a reflection upon your true value in society. And this thought, in turn, reminded Sean that he needed to have a serious talk with his 12 year old son about the facts of life.

"Son," said Sean, demanding Timmy's attention, "I think it's time we had THE TALK."

Sean had to snap the texting device out of Timmy's hands in order to stop the boy's addictive behavior and get his attention. It seemed that everyone during this time had such an addiction to electronic gadgets. At times, it seemed as though they were mindless texting, cell phone- talking zombies, incapable of standing in front of someone and communicating directly to them. With blank stares upon their little screens, they tappity-tap-tapped upon their hand held device's buttons, pausing only if it was absolutely necessary.

Timmy whined, "Hey, I was texting something to Ricky."

Sean said, "When we're finished talking, I'll let you have it back. Don't worry."

Timmy got a pout-y look on his face, thinking it would gain him back his gadget. It didn't. It was one of the few times Timmy didn't get his way with Sean.

Sean started, "It's time for you to know just how important is to run with the pack. To conform. Be a complete team player in life. And perhaps, most importantly, never differentiate from the norm so everyone, from your classmates in school to your fellow players in an organized league to your future co-workers in the office, will accept you during life. Never rock the boat."

Timmy looked up, asked, "Office? Why do I have to work in an office? Why can't I work at the supermarket with Uncle Frank?"

Sean laughed and then continued explaining, "Your Uncle Frank is what we call a loser. A no account. A grunt who performs routine tasks. A nothing, in truth."

"Why do you say that?," inquired Timmy.

As Sean walked Timmy back to the warmth of the interior of the mansion, the father said, "Uncle Frank didn't go to college. Instead of choosing a career where he would earn an annual six figure salary, Frank decided to waste his life and opportunities to work behind a deli counter, never to achieve what you kids today call the "awesomeness" of having considerable wealth and exceptional stature." With this said, Sean winked and nodded, affirmatively. He was hoping to get through to his son the importance of appearances and the never ending goal of attaining vast wealth throughout his lifetime.

As they stepped inside, Sean instructed Timmy to sit at the table for more enlightenment. At the table, Timmy said, "I don't understand. I always thought Uncle Frank was pretty happy. He's always smiling, the couple of times I've seen him."

Sean replied, "It doesn't matter if Uncle Frank is happy. What's important is wealth and conformity. Frank, from the day he was born, hasn't followed the rules of American society and as a result, doesn't measure up to our standards, my son. It's just that simple."

Timmy seemed confused at first, but then his expression brightened.

"So that's why you never invite Uncle Frank to Christmas or Thanksgiving every year," said Timmy, pleased that his father was smiling at his sudden comprehension.

Sean patted the boy on the head and said, happily, "You betcha!"

Timmy exclaimed, "Uncle Frank isn't as good as we are!"

"Why Frank has hardly any value as a human being at all," confided Sean, proud that his boy was eagerly learning a valuable lesson.

Timmy and Sean laughed heartily. This is going to be a wonderful day, thought Sean. The boy was soaking in all the wisdom Sean had to offer like a thirsty sponge.

At that moment, Vicky, Sean's wife walked in from the living room. She asked, "Will you boys be ready to go shopping in about an hour?" Sean and Timmy nodded. "There's a new upscale department store in the city that I've wanted to go into and we have reservations at The Capital Grille later tonight. I hear the Seared Tenderloin with Butter Poached Lobster is out of this world. I"m just so looking forward to eating there."

Sean and Timmy decided to go into the living room to watch TV. A news program was playing, showing the plight of people that had lost their jobs, recently, and were having trouble keeping their homes.

Timmy giggled, pointed and then exclaimed, "Look, dad! Poor people! They're stupid!"

Sean confirmed Timmy's outburst, saying, "That's right, son!"

Sean continued, "And if you should see any people at any time like this or any other losers that ask you for a handout, just pretend that they don't exist. It's easy. And it's the American Way"

The next images were of people fighting a war in the Middle East. Sean thought he could contribute more to his son's education by explaining the reason we were at war.

Sean asked, "Do you know the reason why our young soldiers are risking their lives over in the far away country called...? Eh, I forget the name at the moment... but that's not important anyway."

Timmy said, "Nope. I never really cared. Whenever they talk about war stuff on TV, I usually turn on my PS3 and play games."

Sean thought, Well, I really can't blame him there. Whenever the subject of whatever war we were currently in came on the screen, he'd quickly change channels to some televised sporting event.

"Well," said Sean, "The reason we go to war with people that are different than us is due to a number of things. One, they might have something that we want. Like oil, for instance. Two, our corporations and our government may have found ways to make a profit from setting up our "democracy bases" in these countries, therefore, we should be there. And three, it's the patriotic thing to do."

Timmy said, "I thought I heard it was about terrorism or somethin'."

Sean put his hand on his son's arm while saying, "Well, son, our government and politicians have used fear mongering and terms suggesting that you're not a true patriot unless you want go to another country and kill their people who have nothing to do with terrorism, per se. In fact, a lot of innocent civilians are killed over there for really unfair reasons, I suppose, if you really want to dwell on that sort of thing. Our own soldiers die over there, as well, but hey, ya gotta crack a few eggs to make an omelet."

Sean pointed up toward the air and said, triumphantly, "Heck, our country was practically taken and founded upon the massacre of people different than us. You've heard of Indians, right? Well, we had to wipe them out early on in order to spread across this land like a virus. They had our land and we took it from them. We even let a few of them live. 'Might is right', as they say."

Sean laughed a bit and then added, "But who says life has to be fair? It's the end result that counts. As Americans, we have to protect our gluttonous, selfish way of life by doing things that may seem immoral to some losers but that doesn't really matter. Money matters. Satisfying our needs is what matters. Doing what the government tells you to do and what to believe, no matter how much you think it is a lie, is what truly matters."

Timmy thought about what his father said and though a lot of it didn't make sense, he decided to go along with it. It seemed to him that if everyone else was going along with these rules, then it must be right.

Timmy said, "I guess I get it."

Sean said, "That's all I need to hear. Just remember... the majority is always right. Think and act like everyone else and you'll do just fine. In the future, you'll go to college, get a high paying career, get married, buy a big house and other expensive items, raise a couple rug-rats of your own and never question authority or the government. Don't rock the boat."

Timmy smiled and then said the words a father wants to hear the most from his son.

"I want to be just like you when I grow up, dad."

Sean said, "You betcha, son." Sean, assured of Timmy's compliance with all that was said, gave Timmy his iPod back.

Minutes later, the family gathered into the limousine and were taken into the city for a day and night of heavily commercialized Christmas shopping and fine dining. Life couldn't be better for Sean. Sean felt he had instilled valuable life lessons in his son and took exceptional pride in that accomplishment.

Strange What Is And Isn't Accepted

What I'll be ranting about today is from the point of view of someone living in the U.S. This post will be about the odd general beliefs of American culture, though many of these beliefs are shared by the rest of the world's populace. Enjoy. Think. Scratch your ass. Or all of the above.

ACCEPTED

Corporate greed and greed, in general is perfectly acceptable. When this society hears of corporate greed as in the case of Goldman Sachs, the mortgage bankers who routinely screw people out of money, giving exorbitant amounts of money to their CEO's, it makes the news for a couple days. Then the public yawns, when some form of corporate greed is exposed and says, "Well, what can you do?" and keeps working to pay their bills, raise their families and repeats the routine the next day. It's an old story. Pathetic and true. Any outrage may last a day at the most, if there is any.

We're encouraged, in the U.S., from an early age to adulthood that the accumulation of money and material things is the normal course to go in one's lifetime. Money is the end all-be all of existence, after all. And the void in your life must be filled with crap bought at the store, mall or online. Having enough currency to be secure and have a safe place to live in is simply not enough. Enough is never enough for us. We're fat? Yep. Have too many toys, trinkets and electronic gadgets? Sure. The rest of the world hates us? You bet. Do we turn a blind eye to what we are?

Well... Is the sun hot?

NOT ACCEPTED

I'm surprised that the English dictionary doesn't define a deviate as someone who believes life can be enjoyed by experiencing the simplest of things. You know. The sight of a flowing river or mountain. Love. Peace. A drive through the country. Creating something positive. Sharing something of yourself.

Eh, I guess someone like that would be called old fashioned, out of place. A real nonconformist! A real nonteam player! You better hang that illogically thinking head of yours in shame, freak! Your kind is not welcome and you shall be shunned!

ACCEPTED

War. What goes with greed better or is more associated with that cultural disease than acts of war? Well, I mean other than vast, pointless loss of life, whether it's military personnel or civilian. War is accepted, sometimes thought of as patriotic, even, and happily used to rob someone of their land and/or natural resources. Doesn't matter what innocent people are killed. Those civilians' deaths may make the news that day or not. Doesn't matter to the public. You can tell because we allow it to happen. That's called encouragement.

War is often celebrated- with the giving out of medals to people who kill other people, parades, banners or news of a battle triumph. Often, it will be explained away as perfectly acceptable using various excuses to justify it with the history-proven reliability tools of manipulation and propaganda.

NOT ACCEPTED

Talking. Listening. Understanding. Peace.

ACCEPTED

Celebrity or wannabe-celebrity worship. We can throw youth in the pot, as well. Our society and our media glorifies the rich, famous, young, thin or those trying desperately to be any of those things. That type of societal sickness has always been a great source of ridicule for me. Who's responsible? Media. Magazines. TV producers/networks. Ourselves, for buying into that shit.

Reality TV is as far removed from reality as you can get. It is all poorly scripted hogwash. The attention needy fucks on those low budget (to the networks advantage) shows are advised to act this way or that but they can't even convincingly do that. If I want to watch fiction, I'll watch a real TV show. Give me real actors and a believable storyline, for chrissakes! Or give me an interesting documentary! Anything but reality tv slop.

Youth is overrated, as well. Most movies star young actors these days. Older, more believable and interesting actors have been pushed to the sidelines. Most commercials are geared for the 18-24 demographic with the unnearned spending money mommy and daddy gave to them. My motto: Fuck 'em! That goes for those who cater to them, in any way, especially.

NOT ACCEPTED

Not paying attention to any of them. They have no more value than the rest of us.

ACCEPTED

The narrow-minded religious beliefs of organized religions. You could easily demonstrate that this, too, can be connected to greed and war through the uses and sources of books, newspapers, Internet, simple observation and common sense. Try it. It's fun. But I can't be held accountable if your brain starts to hurt from thinking differently. Just sayin'.

NOT ACCEPTED

Believing in things that most people scoff at. Examples: Ghosts, Extraterrestrials, some things that can't be seen with your eyes, ESP, an afterlife (not necessarily a Christian version) and other phenomenon I could go on about but won't. If I did, I'd never finish this post.

Remember folks: There's no such thing as a 100% guarantee on what is real and not real. That goes for anything. What was scientifically proven or disproved in the past can be squashed like a bug tomorrow.

Keep your mind open for anything. And feel free to dwell upon anything I said. And let me know if your head starts to hurt. I need a good laugh.

My Computer Blew Up!!!

Yes, you read that post title correctly. I'm using one of the library's PC's. Which sucks, because it is very inconvenient for a variety of reasons. One being, the library is kinda far from the house.

Moving on... (gotta hurry writing this, I suppose... I'm on a half hour timer here)

After pushing the power button on my own computer, repeatedly, and getting nothing but whirring sounds, I almost gave up on the damn thing. So rather than throw it out the window, in utter frustration, I sat back and let the damn thing "rest" for a half hour.

I pushed on the power button, once more, after I gave the damn thing a break. This time I got a loud POPPING noise and smoke coming out of both ends of my CPU. Hooray! If you thought I was insane before, well, ya oughta get a load of me now! I had no idea my addiction to my computer was that severe until now. It's only been one day, and I'm already driving my wife completely nuts. She has threatened to cut my jingle berries off!

Anyway, I take the computer to the repair shop. They say the power supply is dead and they don't know what else is wrong yet til they get a chance to look at it. If the motherboard is fucked, I might as well get a new computer (which really, I don't have the money for). So say a little prayer, cross your fingers or speak in tongues for me, please, for some miracle I get my computer back soon before I become completely unhinged.

Now, the library timer says I have 13 minutes left...

Bottom line: Don't be surprised if I'm unable to correspond with anyone by BlogCatalog, Email or my own blog or your blog or whatever anytime soon. If I'm unable to get my CPU repaired and I have to buy a new one, it may be a couple weeks before I can get back to one of the things I love doing... blogging and commenting. I promise, when all is well in my computer situation again, I will comment back to all of ya and get in touch, in general.

Till then... Take care, everyone!

And cross your fingers that my wife doesn't cut my nuts off before then.

The Freakiest Clip I've Ever Seen

From one of my favorite shows -"A 1000 Ways to Die". This guy is beyond fucked up.

And remember, folks, don't try this at home! Good Lord!

Electronics Are Evil

Remember when stores just came out with those U-scans? They cheerfully declared them a machine that would ensure an easier, quicker way for the consumer to check out his or her stuff- so you can get the hell out of the store before some asshole you can't stand sees you and starts up an unwanted conversation when you just want to get home and relax. Just slide your package of crap across the scanner, listen for the little "beep" telling you your thing's bar code was picked up and ready to be set inside your bag. And don't forget, you better put it the bag right away or something bad will transpire.

The things you should regard, as you go through the process are:

As much as you think you're one smart monkey by avoiding the long lines with real human cashiers, the U-scan, approximately eighty percent of the time, will have an error/question/glitch happen with at least one of your items. When this frustrating development comes about and pushes you increasingly into full fruition as anger at the machine, perhaps causing you to rescan your thing dozens of times, at variable angles in the hopes it will go through, a wondrous miracle may occur. And I'm not talking about dropping dead to be done with this wretched society and all of it's "gotta-have-it" gadgetry .

No.

This miracle will come in the form of a human being. Especially miraculous will be the good fortune of having that human being be a person that can actually help you. He or she will push some buttons, and perhaps, she will even make it work. Or not. It may take up to four different miracle workers to make it work. The cashier manager may have to be called. Maybe the store manager. Or God, himself. Though I doubt God would want to have anything to do with the useless piece of crap called a U-scan.

Cellphones are the work of the devil. There, I said it. Embrace it as truth!

I don't care what company or plan or brand you're using, you will eventually be in an area where the cellphone can't get a signal. This will occur when you need it to work desperately. Let's say your car has broke down during sub zero temperatures out in the middle of a land that time forgot- this will be the time your cellphone won't work. Maybe you can blame it on your surroundings, lack of signal towers (don't know what they're called for sure and don't care) or maybe the heat or ice has caused "the little gadget that couldn't" to pop and explode. Who knows? It doesn't matter. At the time when you need it most, it will fail. Piece of shit. The end.

Of course, let's not forget how annoying cell phones are when you're eating at a restaurant or in line for the u-scan and some asshole (it could even be you) gets one of those "clever little ring tone jingles" and the guy or girl is talking on it like it's greatest thing- that they got called so they can talk really loud and for a long time about something trivial like "maybe I should get that new Blackberry Piece of Shit Electronic Gadget that they advertise so I can waste more time and money."

Computers will also screw up. We all know that. Teeth gritting. Panic at meeting a deadline. The computer doesn't care. You can say it's human error or a hacker or the lack of an update or latest driver or whatever all you want. But you would think, even with all of the fancy-smancey repair programs and anti-spyware/anti-virus applications that's out there now, that computers have been around so long- so very fucking long- that they should be able to repair themselves of anything now- whether it be from human error or otherwise.

Cars are no different. I believe just about every car being manufactured nowadays (I'm never one hundred percent sure of anything) has an electronic "brain" or something like that. Eventually, because most cars are comprised of so many electronic components and this "brain", it will eventually fail. I fill the fluids and fix the small stuff on my own crapolas on wheels and that's it. I've never been interested in cars. Go ahead and rev that engine. Wank yourself silly, while doing so. After paying what you pay for this sad mode of transportation, it too will eventually fail. It can be a new vehicle. It can be old. It can be a hybrid. It can be a hovercraft type car from the future.

Sure, a real mechanic can correct me on this and that, concerning cars. I, in turn, will offer my utmost concern by shrugging and walk away. I hate cars. Any electronic that fails and cannot repair itself should self detonate next to some asshole talking on the cell phone about nothing.

In short, all electronics are worthless pieces of evil shit.