it ain't rocket surgery

From You're the man now dog...
Listen to your father Wendy

PAGE TWO:
According to Drudge, this guy is a NASA scientist, but he doesn't sound like a "rocket surgeon" to me - PUT OIL CHIEFS ON TRIAL FOR SPREADING DOUBT ABOUT GLOBAL WARMING..."

James Hansen, one of the world's leading climate scientists, will today call for the chief executives of large fossil fuel companies to be put on trial for high crimes against humanity and nature, accusing them of actively spreading doubt about global warming in the same way that tobacco companies blurred the links between smoking and cancer...

He wants to see a moratorium on new coal-fired power plants, coupled with the creation of a huge grid of low-loss electric power lines buried under ground and spread across America, in order to give wind and solar power a chance of competing.

Wow. I love that part. "in order to give wind and solar power a chance of competing." Current energy costs are evidently not high enough for this dweeb just yet. That's the dirty little secret with these Lib environMENTAL wackos. They love that Americans are driving fewer miles (by a few percentage points) and couldn't care less the amount of suffering it has caused. That is just a means to an end and hastens our evolution from an evil free market driven economy to that of a big government socialist economy.

NASA? Aren't they currently drilling in a prestine environment?! Where's the outrage?


Meanwhile...
DaBlade can't come to the blog right now, as he is on vacation and burning carbon at a ridiculous clip. Please leave your fake name and comment, and he will blog back to you (or not) when he returns to this internets, after basking in the hot sun - that giant burning orb in the sky that doesn't have anything to do with the so-called global warmings. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

Of Thongs and Headscarves

If you're like me, you always think safety first. That's I we wear my seat belt, I put fresh batteries in my smoke detectors, and I always (and I mean ALWAYS) wear protective eye goggles before prancing around in a new pair of thong underwear. A Los Angeles woman did not follow that last golden rule when, as she was trying on a thong from Victoria's Secret, "a decorative metallic piece flew off the garment and struck her in the eye." She is now suing the underwear giant (no, not Rosie O'donnell) for selling a defective thong. Great! Another "frilly-vous" lawsuit. We will all be paying more for this product, or risk showing those unsightly drawer lines through our polyester suit pants. (and I just recently discovered that I had been mistakenly wearing mine backwards).

Did you hear about the two Muslim women who were given the heave-ho when they tried sitting behind the podium at Barack Obama’s rally in Detroit Monday? Apparently the headscarves were a distraction to Obama, as it was causing him to daydream about his childhood days in the madrassa. Actually, the real explanation is not much better. He didn't want to be seen with them because of the "political climate." But I thought he was the Messiah who was going to bring all Americans together? Something else is going on here. I just can't put my finger on it.

Liberal activists originally applauded these screaming headlines from the UK: Cancer patient recovers after injection of immune cells,that is until they discovered that the man was cured of skin cancer after being injected with billions of his own immune cells. Apparently, if immune cells don't originate from a pile of dead human babies fetuses it isn't worth celebrating. No word yet if British scientists have had luck using these immune cells for their backlog of necessary dental work.

Who am I?: He is the icon symbol of global warming. Want a hint? He has a pasty white complexion. He must weigh a ton! He is a "gore" machine. (no, not Al Gore)
Answer: The Polar Bear

One of these majestic creatures of the prestine arctic was shot and killed yesterday by Icelandic police, but we all know it was ultimately George Bush's fault. He caused this poor creatures death by not signing the Kyoto treaty. The treaty would have cooled the earth. This polar bear wouldn't have been overcome by heat stroke and wandered off to Iceland, hundreds of miles from it's natural habitat. I see you liberals nodding in agreement. That was called sarcasm. It's not that I don't like polar bears or think of them as majestic creatures (I do). It's just that, if my car ran on polar bear blood and it sold for $2 per gallon, I'd say "fill 'R up!".

Coffee Talk - No big whoop

If you're like me, you have sold all of your old and broken gold nipple rings for cash to buy gas. If you're also like me, you enjoy a good cup of steaming java in the morning while surfing the internet. That's why I was out of sorts Tuesday morning as I sat at my computer and a blank web page stared back at me. I checked the connections and rebooted the modem to no avail. I called the cable company and a recorded message informed me that there was a service outage in the area. Greeeaaat! At least I knew it wasn't me.

Oh well. I still had my coffee. Nectar of the gods. On the way in to work yesterday, a radio DJ read the news and mentioned a Harvard University study that found: "Coffee drinking -- even more than six cups a day over the course of almost 20 years -- won't kill you, and may even help you live longer."

This is good news to me. I drink at least that much coffee. Who knew it was medicinal? I always felt that it was therapeutically mood altering. Of course, the mood darkens a tad when you wait in line like a heroin junky before shelling out four bucks at Starbucks. I could get a gallon of gas with four bucks! Oh well, I can get about 23 miles to that steaming cup of java too, and if I don't buy it I can guarantee I'll run out of gas. Fill 'r up!

By the way, what's that foreign language "size" code going on there at Starbucks?
Me: "I'd like a large coffee please."
Starchick: "Do you mean a Tall, Grande, or Venti?"
Me: "I'm sorry, I don't speak Japanese! Give me the el granday large-o biggee-ist size ya got back there."
Starchick: "Venti."
Me: "No I'll take it to go. I have time to sip it. Maybe I'll order it intravenously next time."
Starchick: "That'll be four bucks please."

I think I'm getting verklempt! Talk amongst yourselves.

Bush responsible for Flint's woes (says Obama spokesperson)

by Dana DeFever, The Flint Journal: Obama to talk about jobs, global economy in Flint speech

FLINT, Michigan -- U.S. Senator Barack Obama will talk about jobs and the global economy Monday at Kettering University.

Obama is expected to lay out his agenda for how to create the good-paying jobs of the future and how to ensure that America can compete and succeed in the global economy, said Amy Brundage, an Obama spokeswoman.

"Here in Flint, the devastating effects of eight years of George Bush have hit close to home. The people of Flint can't afford John McCain's promise of four more years of failed economic policies that are setting back our ability to compete in the 21st century," she said.

There it is! George Bush is responsible for Flint's woes, and Bush has caused this "devastation" over his 8 year term! Ah, if only Flint could return to it's hey day from 8 years ago *sigh*. You liberals *fake smile*... Hey Amy. Do you realize just how ridiculous you sound? As for Obama, he is going to single-handedly "CREATE" jobs that will allow Flint to compete in the global economy. The Messiah Obama will CREATE these jobs out of thin air with his policies of regulation and sky high taxation. That would be a trick equal to turning water into wine.

A limited supply of advanced tickets were distributed last week. Andy Heller gushed like a school girl in his blog about getting a ticket, likening it to getting a golden ticket from a Willie Wonka chocolate bar. Maybe Andy will do a follow-up video with the Obama Girl (I Got A Crush).

He writes:

It's an understatement to say these people were excited about Obama's visit. And why not? For eight years, the ruling junta, led by The Decider, has made no bones about who was in charge of this country -- and it wasn't the people.

The war. The economy. Jobs. Inflation. Gas prices. The nation has been slugged hard and often, particularly lately. No state has felt the blows more than Michigan; no city has felt them harder than Flint.

In Obama, perhaps, the people who turned out Friday see a return to power for themselves, a chance that the government born of the people will return to the people. In him, at the very least, they see hope.

That's Andy for ya. Red meat to the clueless. There seems to be a formula here: Step one - Bash Bush and blame him for Flint's problems. Step two - Obama. *HOPE* and *CHANGE*... blather blather blather. It appears that Obama's spokesbabe and Heller are drinking the same Kool Aid.

Ping zinged & King Par jarred

I am in the market for a new golf bag and Ping will not be in the running. Apparently, the folks at Ping are too busy trying to sell to new customers than in exerting minimal effort to keep the ones they already had. Fair warning to you, dear readers. After my experience with them, I cannot at this time endorse Ping. Who knows - that could change. Maybe I will get a satisfactory response from the folks at Ping after I submit this post to the "Stories" section of Ping's homepage ( http://www.pinggolf.com/ ) If I do, all of you here in my humble little corner of cyber golf land will be the first to know. But I won't hold my breath. My story? O.k.

I received a Ping cart bag for a birthday gift from my mother a few years ago. It seemed to be the perfect receptacle to carry my Ping Eye's, with the 6-way soft cover top and pockets galore - I'm sure it was a $300 or more bag brand new. The problem is, the most important zipper on this bag (that being the one on the bottom pocket that houses my ample supply of golf balls) no longer works. And it's not like the zippered bag has a real difficult job. All I would expect my golf bag to do for my 20 to 25 rounds per year is for this bottom zipper to successfully open and close, allowing me access to the contents of the pocket after I lose a ball from an errant shot. That's it! (admittedly I lose a lot of balls. If this were a car, I'd be putting "city miles" on it). But some time ago, the zipper broke. It's not that it pulled away from the bag. The thick roped stitching is still holding, and is the kind that I imagine Rosie O'Donnell requiring for her inseam. (Yikes! No picture.) It's just that the zippered teeth stopped locking. Last season, I simply left the pull tab at half mast. This was semi-functional, but I would occasionally lose a ball or two out of the side openings. Plus, it irritated the hell out of me all last season!

This year I finally decided to have this zipper fixed. I had my clubs re-gripped at King Par in Flint Township and told the salesman about my bag. He told me that they would be happy to ship my bag back to Ping for repairs and that it probably wouldn't cost me a thing "since Ping stands behind their products". Not being one of those guys that is always looking for something for nothing, I explained to the salesman that free would be great, but that I would be willing to pay for a replacement zipper and the cost of repairs. I fully expected to pay, as the bag was a few years old (although the zipper had been broken for the last two years). He told me that if Ping had a required fee, he would call me for payment. He said it would take three weeks turn-around and I would get a call when it was in. I said fine. That was May 15.

Now I should tell you that this paragraph has absolutely nothing to do with Ping, but much to do with adding to my overall mood. I pulled my old generic golf bag out from the enclosed corner room of my basement that houses the sub-pump. I carried it up from the darkened bowels of this cave, exposing it to the sun for the first time in a few years (it reminded me of Cool Hand Luke coming out of solitary confinement). I quickly realized that this bag smelled awful (decaying corpse eu toilet). I figured that a few blasts of Lysol and an hour in the sun would resurrect this bag. "After all, it's only for three weeks," thought I. Well, the Lysol and sun have met their match, as the unpleasant odor of the crypt continues to follow my partner and I around the course each week. I'm sure the source of this smell (black mold?) is completely healthy too. "Don't worry partner. I'm getting my bag back soon." Hah!

(Back to the story) When I still hadn't heard from King Par by June 12th, I decided to give them a call. I identified myself and the reason for my call to the gal who answered. After checking, she returned to the phone and told me that my bag had arrived several days ago (Strike one! Would they have EVER called me?) and that it had been sent back unrepaired (STEEEE-RIKE TWO). WTF!? "Why?", asked I. "Because the broken zipper wasn't covered under the warranty," she answered.

"BUT I AM WILLING TO PAY FOR IT!"

I think she sensed that I was displeased, so she put me on hold so that she could pass me off to the salesman who I originally had dealt with when I dropped the bag off almost a full month ago. I attempted to bring him up to speed. I asked him why my bag was returned unrepaired. He asked what was wrong with it. I explained that the zipper was broken. "which zipper?," he asked. (Now I'm getting really pissed). "You have the bag right there in front of you so you tell me!... (sensing he might not be the wedge with the highest degree of loft in the bag, I spotted him the answer) ...it's the bottom pocket."

(phone conversation continues... no embellishment here, I swear!)
salesdude: "It looks O.K. to me"
Me: "Well, maybe the gal I spoke with is mistaken and it's been fixed. Humor me and try it. Let me know if it's still broken."
salesdude: "Yep it seems to work now. The tab goes back and forth. Of course, the teeth aren't staying closed."
Me: "I guess it depends on one's definition of broken, but by mine, the bag is still broken."
salesdude: "Yah, I see your point."
Me: "I'm tired of leaving a trail of golf balls behind me like bread crumbs left by Hansel and Gretel."

I then recanted the whole story back to him. I told him that when I dropped the bag off, I was given two possible scenarios - That Ping would fix the bag for free, or that Ping would fix the bag for a fee. I told him that this "door number three" was never presented to me as a possible option. Since I was willing to pay, why wasn't it fixed? Certainly they have the technology to fix a zipper. The salesman promised to call Ping and get an explanation and then to call me back. I asked him if he wanted me to make this call, since I was obviously a little more P.O.'d about this than he was, but he said he would. To his credit he called me back within 5 minutes, but what he told me Ping had said absolutely floored me. Ping stated that "they couldn't repair the zipper because of the curve of the tube." They suggested I take the bag to a shop that deals with luggage.

If NASA can send a probe to Mars and almost be able to analyze soil samples, then by God Ping should be able to fix a zipper on their own product, shouldn't they? They could build in an obscene profit margin for this service and at least give customers an option, couldn't they? I mean, if you bought a brand new car and then had a blowout after 5,000 miles, the dealership would sell and install a new tire for you, wouldn't they? I have never heard of a flat tire ever totaling a car. But apparently, the bag's "curve" has Ping's own engineers completely baffled, prompting them to suggest I take this to a much more competent and intellectually superior source than them.

That being "people who deal with luggage".

Obama to visit Flint - Be still my heart

"Obama coming to Flint Monday," reports Kristin Longley of The Flint Journal.

Woo Woo... *fizzle*... don't care.

He is scheduled to speak at Kettering University (provided his ear piece is working again, unlike here)

"Hold on a second. I can't hear myself." What a buffoon!

Obama at Kettering University, huh? That gives me a visual of him wearing an over-sized army helmet (ala Michael Dukakis) and driving down newly christened "University Drive" (Third Avenue) in the homemade half-scale Panzer replica built by an engineering student there.

Just think, if he draws a crowd of 3,000, that's the equivalent of 1,500 votes, right? I forget the formula the dumbocrats are using now to count votes these days... two thirds? One half?

"He is expected to speak about Michigan's economic woes and his economic policy platform." Great! I need him to explain how raising taxes in this economy will be beneficial to this area.

Denise Graves, chairwoman of the Genesee County Republican Party, said McCain's policies are better for Michigan.

"(Obama) will probably come here often because he needs to repair the damage he's done," Graves said. "He needs to get support because he ignored this state (during the primary season)."

Flint needs the exact opposite of what this yahoo is peddling.

Obama must be defeated

Liberals are ruled by their emotions, not logic. When liberalism/socialism is critically examined as a governmental model by a logical mind, it is inarguable that it has failed every time it's been tried. Then again, I guess it depends on how you define success. The far left would claim success even after (or maybe especially after) their confiscatory wealth redistribution policies crippled the economy, as long as these policies ensured an equality of misery and punished the achievers. To liberals, results don't matter as long as there are good intentions. Some have called liberalism a mental disease. I think it's more of a mass morality disorder.

Liberals never let pesky facts get in the way of their red hot rage and naked hatred for George Bush the man. He has been vilified and impugned by the left in this country like no other, except for maybe Ronald Reagan. Of course, Reagan was a lightening rod to the left because he was the father of modern day conservatism and and a man of unimpeachable integrity. And he is directly responsible for the fall of the Soviet Union, the liberals utopic model. Bush's administration has been more like a "Reagan ultra ultra light" on the conservato-meter, except when it comes to the "small" issue of national security. I have said it before and I'll say it again, George W. Bush was the right man at the right time in our nation's history. His legacy will bear this out when viewed by non-diseased and mentally stable minds.

Ann Coulter has a great column on this topic this week - BUSH'S AMERICA: 100 PERCENT AL-QAIDA FREE SINCE 2001. She goes so far as saying that Bush "will go down in history as one of America's greatest presidents" for keeping us safe since the terrorist attacks on 9/11. She makes the point that the Iraq war has been a "stunning success," and that "Al-Qaida is virtually destroyed".

This, to the chagrin of Obama and the democrats, who have gone "all in" in this political game of Texas Hold 'em, betting the dealer's "flop" will produce an Iraq war "flop" and America's defeat. Obama's calling card has always been that he has been against the Iraq war from the beginning because it was unnecessary and unwinnable. Since it was both necessary and we are winning big, the question becomes this: Will Obama be allowed to take his chips back from the pot and re-stack, or will the electorate rightly hold him to his losing hand by not putting him in the White House?

I guess we will see in November. I agree with Rush Limbaugh's comment that this election would be about people voting for Obama and people voting against Obama. That is a testament to the fact that the Republican nominee is not a conservative and does not garner a lot of enthusiasm from right-minded individuals like myself. However, he is pro-life and he does have strong national security credentials. And With Obama on the ballot, I won't even have to hold my nose when voting for McCain.

Perpetual Parrothead Tailgate

Cap'n Jack said it best. "Life is Good." I don't know if Cap'n Jack is his real name or if he even coined the phrase "life is good". It doesn't matter 'cuz Cap'n Jack has that right, at least when you are tailgating at the DTE Energy Music Theatre 3 hours before Jimmy Buffett takes the stage. Cap'n Jack is 61 years old, with graying hair pulled back into a pony tail. He was there with Cap'n Ron, another aged pirate, and both of their woman. I was there with my wife, brother Snap and his woman. We arrived in a steady stream of Parrothead traffic and were directed single file into the grass overflow parking lot. From the parked vehicles came the colorfully clad occupants with their lawn chairs, grills, and coolers filled with assorted beverages.

At a Buffett tailgate, you end up partying with everyone you parked in proximity to. And unlike the real world where a neighbor on your street may get a half-hearted wave as you drive by, you actually get to know your parrothead neighbors. Turns out that Cap'n Jack and his wench (pirate term of endearment) live in Davison just a few miles away from us. They are retired (GM) and they are planning a motorcycle trip out west later this summer. The couple on the other side of my van live in Ohio and they just got a real good deal on a new house. He is an ex-cop who now juggles several trades and she works in a pharmacy and was born and raised a cheese head from Green Bay.

The barter system is alive and well at a Buffett tailgate. Cap'n Jack was the first to make our acquaintance, as he came over asking for a bottle opener. Mrs. Snap saw that he was holding two Land Shark Lagers, so she ended up trading him a Michelob Ultra for one. A slightly inebriated 24-year-old Grand Rapids Parrothead stopped by our tailgate wearing a grass skirt and numerous lays around his neck,asking if I had a cigar for him. I traded him a cigar for his neckware for my sister-in-law. Before long, Cap'n Jack, ex-cop guy, Snap and I were all puffing away on cigars, drinking ale, trading stories, and just having a good time.

I thought to myself that tailgating at a Buffett concert should be a microcosm of how we interact with neighbors, coworkers, even strange passerbys. Unfortunately that is usually not the case. Cap'n Jack says life is good and I'm not going to argue with him on that. It's just that it would be better if life were a perpetual parrothead tailgate.

Oh yah, the show was great!

Freep article on the show

Barack Obama's Big Adventure

Barack Obama goes for a bicycle ride along the shores of Lake Michigan in Chicago on Sunday. Nice helmet Barry! Safety first, I always say. Let those who ride, decide.


Eric Zorn blogged a head accoutrement warning in Chicago Tribune, Via Buzz Feed: Bad Head Gear Has Done Damage to Democratic Candidates in the Past.

Watch what you put on your head. Don't get into a tank in an oversized army helmet, right Dukakis? John Kerry's visit to NASA produced unflattering pictures of him crawling around in that ridiculous bunny suit, complete with he head gear that resembled the rain hat I used to have to wear as a kid (the one that went with the big yellow rain coat with enormous buckles).

OK, let's recap. No army helmet on the head. No rain cap on the head. No bicylce helmet on the head. And Bill Clinton? No Monica Lewinsky.


...I don't believe in Peter Pan
Frankenstein or Superman
All I wanna do is

Bicycle bicycle bicycle
I want to ride my bicycle bicycle bicycle
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride my bike
I want to ride my bicycle
(I want to ride it where I like)
Bicycle Race - Queen

Hey Barack! Watch for the potholes! A little lost without your teleprompter?

Ed McMahon: "Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeere's bankruptcy!"

Ed McMahon, best known as the sidekick to Johnny Carson, has fallen on hard times and faces foreclosure on his multi-million dollar Beverly Hills mansion. McMahon had this to say in another probing Larry King interview: "It's a combination, it's like a perfect storm... If you spend more money than you make, you know what happens."

Sure I do. You negotiate with the Obama campaign for a back room deal involving him paying off a portion of your failed campaign's debt, right Hillary?

McMahon can't get his asking price for this mansion. He is neighbors with Britney Spears, and it is unclear how proximity of the Spears "mansion" has influenced his property values.

Britney Spears Beverly Hills "Mansion":


And so Ed may lose his house to the bank. Damn that Mr. Drysdale! We can't let this happen to mister ""Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeere's Johnny!" Let's do a bottle drive. I'll get the beer cans at the Spears residence - that should be good for the arrearage (Ewwww! I just said "Britney Spears", "good" and "arrearage" in the same sentence. I'm sorry).

Hold on Edward laddy, help is on the way. You may already be a winner! That's what you used to tell all of us when you were a pitchman for Publisher's Clearing House. I used to daydream about that Prize Patrol van pulling into my driveway and you on my porch holding one of those big-(blog edit)-ed cardboard checks with my name on it!



Come to think of it, I never did get one of those checks. Sorry Ed, you're on your own. My cardboard check would bounce. But could I interest you in a magazine subscription?

Miracle Babies

I was struck by the dichotomy of two recent stories involving different miracle newborns. The first is The Girl Who Was "Born" Twice, Macie McCartney of Houston. When Macie was a wanted human child inutero, it was discovered that she had a rare tumor that would be fatal if left unchecked.

The tumor was stealing blood from Macie, weakening her heart. So, at 25 weeks, surgeons cut into Keri's abdomen, pulled out the entire uterus -- and then half of Macie. The tumor was the size of a grapefruit... Once free of the tumor, Macee was placed back in the womb, where she recovered and grew for a record 10 more weeks. Aside from this scar on her backside, Macie is a strong newborn with a healthy future.

Happy endings. I love them! Here is another one, though you'll find that this little baby's journey was much more lonely. The title of this story tells all: "Baby Miraculously Survives Abortion, Expected to Live 'Normal' Life"

When baby Finley was just an unwanted non-human tissue mass, Would-be mom Jodie Percival had an abortion because tests showed the baby had cysts on his it's kidneys. Percival states, "Deciding to terminate at eight weeks was just utterly horrible but I couldn't cope with the anguish of losing another baby."

I am still trying to figure that tangled knot of a sentence out. So what she is saying is, "I killed my baby because I couldn't handle my baby dying." The baby had been diagnosed with kidney problems. I'm no doctor, but I do know that we are born with two of these organs, and one of them is a spare. They can be swapped out like car batteries for Pete's sake! It's not like the baby had a failing heart, although the mother apparently gets around just fine without one of those.

Then she found out the abortion was unsuccessful:

"I couldn't believe it,' Percival said. "This was the baby I thought I'd terminated. At first I was angry that this was happening to us, that the procedure had failed. I wrote to the hospital, I couldn't believe that they had let me down like this... doctors told the couple the baby was likely to survive, so they decided he deserved another chance at life. In November, Finley was born three weeks premature. He had minor kidney damage but is expected to lead a normal life.

God bless this child, and may the unrepentent parents burn in hell.

Two miracle babies surviving against the odds. I know which set of parents I'd rather belong to.

Mishmash Friday

Sports:
Ahhh, the afterglow of the Wings victory. What a ride! Now all we have left is the Tigers *sigh*. Speaking of which, here is another beauty from MSgtEd


Politics
A headline I'd like to see:
Obama taps old racist white grandmother to be his running mate

I think that is more likely to happen than for him to take Hillary. I could be wrong. There is a first time for everything. He does need to figure out a way to split the "typical white person" vote with McCain (Or, as Michelle purportedly calls them, "whitey"). Maybe Yosemite Sam is available for the VP slot. Juan Williams believes all Obama needs to do to "convince dubious white voters" is to give another race speech, only this time make it sincere. Juan suggests that this speech include an admission that Obama is guilty of "using race for political expediency". He writes, "He has to call race-baiting what it is, whether it comes from a pulpit or calls itself progressive politics... to acknowledge that not every critic is a racist. His very liberal record and his limited experience, like his association with Rev. Wright, is a fact, not the work of white racists."

Hey Juan, don't you be throwing these things called "facts" in Obama's face. Obama will not throw himself under the bus. It's getting too crowded under there.

I'll leave you with some classy art/poetry:

Hillary: "I'm not going anywhere without my red stapler!"

My wife was watching Fox and Friends yesterday morning and on one of my numerous trips from my computer to visit Mr. Coffee, I overheard the blonde chick say that Hillary reminded her of an employee that gets fired but shows up for work the next day. Of course, this made me think of the hapless Milton from the 1999 movie, Office Space. Directed by Mike Judge of Beavis and Butthead fame, this comedy pokes fun at the typical software company office during the 1990's. This is a must rent if you haven't seen it.

Unbeknownst to Milton, he had been laid off years ago, but due to an accounting glitch, he kept receiving his paycheck. So he keeps reporting for work. Rather than confront Milton directly with the news that his employment had ended, the boss choses to marginalize him by continually moving his desk, hoping to make him quit.



Via IMDb,

Milton Waddams: [talking on the phone] And I said, I don't care if they lay me off either, because I told, I told Bill that if they move my desk one more time, then, then I'm, I'm quitting, I'm going to quit. And, and I told Don too, because they've moved my desk four times already this year, and I used to be over by the window, and I could see the squirrels, and they were married, but then, they switched from the Swingline to the Boston stapler, but I kept my Swingline stapler because it didn't bind up as much, and I kept the staples for the Swingline stapler and it's not okay because if they take my stapler then I'll set the building on fire...

Hillary is Milton. Milton is Hillary. Hillary Waddam Clinton! Clinton keeps cleaning Obama's clock and the Democrats keep moving her desk further and further away from the nomination. In fact, her desk is now officially in the "cockroach-infested storage room in the basement" yet she just keeps on going. The presidency is her red stapler, and she is not going to let it go without a throwdown! She loves that red stapler. She has dreamed of that red stapler her entire life. And now this young and inexperienced rookie is on the verge of snatching it away from her! Hillary Waddam's only chance now is to coerce this young upstart into making her second in line of succession to the red stapler and see what happens. After all, Robert Kennedy doesn't have a red stapler.

Peter Gibbons is the main character in this film. Due to a hynosis snafu, he spends the entire flick in complete relaxation. So much so, that he pursues his lifelong dream of doing absolutely nothing. He barely does enough work to get by. For this, the company hierarchy promotes him over much more worthy candidates. Sounds like Barack Obama to me! Select the most inept boob for the top slot and just watch the buffoonery!

By the way, this character is played by a white guy, so I pass the litmus test some would establish for these analogies. And I can't be accused of sexism, as Milton is male and Hillary kind of isn't. However, they both are white and are in possession of enormous thighs, so I may have to rethink the appropriateness of this comparison. I'll get back to you on this.

The Detroit Red Wings: Stanley Cup Champions!

YAH! WHOO WHOO!

I never doubted. I Never wavered. Not when that team from Chattanooga tied the first round series 2-2, chasing Hasek from net. Or was it Memphis? Anyway, somewhere in Tennessee. I never doubted when I was being stalked by the jinx fairy, nor when my large screen T.V. was haunted. I perservered through injury (hoarse throat and sleep deprivation) but I just kept coming. I think it's apparent that I have a bigger heart than given credit for. I always knew we would do it.

I'd just like to take a moment to thank The Red Wing organization for drafting me as a lifelong fan. It was all worth it, even during my high school days when they were known as the dead wings. I'd like to thank the country of Sweden and all of Scandinavia, for producing some of the greatest hockey players in the world, and for producing my great-grandfather Nils. Without him I wouldn't be here, and therefore the Wings probably wouldn't either. I'd also like to thank my wife of 22 years for standing by me while I completely ignored here during Red Wing games (and during Lions, Tigers, Pistons, ... and golf, college Lacrosse, Nascar, that Japanese tv show where they run thru that ridiculous obstacle course, etc...) You can't bring home the hardware unless you are ready to go that extra mile honey! I'd also like to thank my kids for standing tall in the face of suffering any saucy language I may have allegedly let slip in moments of weakeness or exhilaration. But most of all, I'd like to give a hearty THANK YOU to you, the bloggees of Chattering Teeth. The pleasure of my words are all yours, I'm sure. Enjoy!

LET'S GO RED WINGS! Let's do it again next year!

Goodbye and good riddance Hillary

Goodbye and good riddance Hillary

"This has been a long campaign and I will be making no decisions tonight."

There is no way Obama will put you on the ticket with him for oodles of reasons. Obama is anxious to talk to Ahmadinejad and he doesn't need to have you over his shoulder hoping his next meeting is with Bobby Kennedy. He doesn't want to be distracted from his socialist/communist/democrat platform agenda worrying about Bill loose in his White House and wondering where Michelle is every waking moment. He doesn't need the stress of having to beat Hillary to every ringing 3AM phone at 1600 Pennsylvania.

“This may be the last day I’m ever involved in a campaign of this kind”

Swedish Meatballs

*yawn* Red Wings outshoot Penguins something like 192 to 3, but Crosby and his sissy-marys manage to win in the third overtime, completely wasting my sleep deprivation *yawn* and guaranteeing a 50% motor function capacity all day. By the way, why does the pull-the-goalie desperation move at the end of regulation work about 98% of the time against the Wings, and only about 1% for them?

Sure, they celebrated in Pittsburgh last night...


But they are only postponing the inevitable

Let's go RED WINGS!

Later today...


Unless you have been driving a truck and listening to Celine Dion's greatest hits on the CD player, than you have seen this video of Father Michael Pfleger "preaching the word" at the pulpit of the Trinity United Church of Christ. Showcasing the lack of spine that he would exhibit as president, Obama quits the church he had been a member of for 20 years. But that's for another time.

This is about the Rev. Pfleger, and you thought he was controversial before? Well the Rev. Pfleger has REALLY done it now. Jumping in front of a camera shortly after the Detroit Red Wings defeated the Pittsburgh Penguins to hoist another Stanley Cup, Pfleger had this to say:

Father Michael Pfleger on Pittsburgh Penguins captain, Sidney Crosby:
When Crosby was crying, and people said that was put on, I really don't believe it was put on. I really believe that he just always thought, 'the Stanley Cup is mine. I'm the NHL poster child. I'm Canadian, and this is mine. I just gotta get up and step onto the ice.'

Then out of nowhere, 'I'm Niklas Lidstrom!'

Ah, damn! Where did you come from? I'm Canadian! I'm entitled! There's a Swedish Captain stealing my show!'

(mocks crying)

He wasn't the only one crying, there was a whole lot of Penguin fans crying!

Visitor from outer space?

Results of open borders...

Did you here about the two dudes from Denver who showed a home movie to reporters the other day that was supposed to be of a visiting space alien playing peek-a-boo outside their window? It's not clear from reports if the two gentleman sport fake Spock ears and greeted the reporters with a "na-noo na-noo". Jeff Peckman did tell reporters that "aliens visit his friend Stan Romanke all the time." Apparently, Stan has been content with simply drawing the aliens he sees and posting them to his web site.

In no way am I saying that these
links
are of
these
drawings
(but the truth is out there).

Then Stan decided to take movies of his star visitor. While they wouldn't release this video to the media, they did release this "still". Personally, I don't see the thing in this picture, but then again, I don't have access to Stan's herb garden. The video didn't settle the argument over whether or not the video was of a real live alien, or a low budget cheesy puppet show fake. I am a little suspicious based on the amount of advance publicity this little creature feature received. I'm sure it's coincidental that Stan says the creature comes and goes on a Segway. Why not release the video you ask? Jeff and Stan have "a deal with a documentary company for the rights to the video".

In the name of science, I did an experiment to see if I could capture one of these aliens on video. I left a Snickers bar on the window sill of my Davison home and waited. What I am about to show you may be shocking. My video still frame shows much more detail than the one from those yahoos in Denver. And unlike them, my motives are pure. I am not doing this for personal gain. I do this as a favor to mankind. Brace yourselves...