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Posted by: squathole | August 17, 2010

Dessert Topping? Floor Cleaner?

Oil in the Gulf of Mexico.  Lionfish in Biscayne Bay.  Asian carp in the Great Lakes.  And now —-

BERJAYAFor fly fishers who pride themselves on a conservationist ethic, it hurts to discover that they may be trampling on that ethic every time they wade into a trout stream….. Blame their boots — or, more precisely, their felt soles. Growing scientific evidence suggests that felt, which helps anglers stay upright on slick rocks, is also a vehicle for noxious microorganisms that hitchhike to new places and disrupt freshwater ecosystems.

[One] fishing guide…switched to studded rubber-soled waders this year, after the streams near his house, by the White River in the Ozark Mountains, became infected with Didymosphenia geminata, or didymo….A single-celled organism also known as rock snot, didymo has done as much as any invasive species to prompt calls for a ban on felt soles.  – NYTimes

Yes folks, it’s rock snot.  Coming to a babbling brook near you.

(I swear “Rock Snot” was the name of the opening act for Nirvana about 15 years ago.  Can anybody verify this?)

As a morbid adolescent, I frequently entertained the creepy thought that the end of human life wouldn’t arrive in the form of a fiery volcano or colliding meteorite, let alone a series of nuclear explosions.  My fear was little things – germs, bugs, bacteria, fungus, spores – which would be all over us before we even knew they were there.   You’d turn on the shower one morning and something dark and slimy would gush out, blinding and burning your skin off your bones.  You’d be out in a field somewhere playing baseball and all of a sudden there zillions of larvae crawling over everything leaving a slime trail sufficiently viscous to suffocate you.  Bwah ha ha you’re dead dead dead.

Anyway, this rock snot looks like something out of my darkest mental closet.   And did anybody notice its resemblance to the stuff political opponents throw at each other?  Or is that just because I live in Hollywood?

Posted by: squathole | August 16, 2010

You Mosque Remember This

As rude, opinionated, and obnoxious as I am, in fact I’m not a New Yorker.  So issues of life-and-death importance to New Yorkers don’t necessarily move me especially.   Case in point: the so-called Ground Zero Mosque.

But it took on a decidedly Florida perspective over the weekend when the President, visiting Panama City, weighed in on the controversy, and various Florida politicians reacted in kind.

President Barack Obama said Saturday that Muslims have the right to build a mosque near New York’s Ground Zero, but he did not say whether he believes it is a good idea to do so….Obama commented during a trip to Florida, where he expanded on a Friday night White House speech asserting that Muslims have the same right to freedom of religion as everyone else in America.  – Yahoo News

Naturally, the president’s political opposites seized on this outrageous statement of Constitutional principal as definitive proof that the half-breed sonofabitch is a foreign-born socialist fraud who resents white people and despises America.

BERJAYAIn Florida, recent Democrat convert Jeff Greene:  “President Obama has this all wrong and I strongly oppose his support for building a mosque near Ground Zero  especially since Islamic terrorists have bragged and celebrated destroying the Twin Towers and killing nearly 3,000 Americans,” Greene said.  “Freedom of religion might provide the right to build the mosque in the shadow of Ground Zero, but common sense and respect for those who lost their lives and loved ones gives sensible reason to build the mosque someplace else.”  — cbs4

Really, Jeffy?  What would Jesus do?  Go ask your rabbi next time you visit Cuba.

Marco Rubio:  “We are a nation founded on strong principles of religious freedom… However, we cannot be blind to the pain 9/11 caused our nation and the families of the victims. It is divisive and disrespectful to build a mosque next to the site where 3,000 innocent people were murdered at the hands of Islamic extremism. I strongly disagree with President Obama and Charlie Crist.” – Sunshine News

Some of those 3,000 victims were Muslims, Marco.  Is that relevant?  How about if they were wealthy Hispanic Republicans?   Just asking.

Alex Sink:  “It is my personal opinion that the wishes of the 9/11 victims’ families and friends must be respected. They are opposed to this project and I share their view.” – Post on Politics

How far does this reasoning go, Alex?  Suppose those same families want to stone Guantanamo prisoners to death, prohibit public celebration of Ramadan, and circumcise all Islamic female adolescents.  You go for that, too?  Why do you believe that individual interest groups get to circumvent Constitutional freedoms?

Bill McCollum:  “The president of the United States giving credibility to this or even offering some semblance of support to building a mosque that this imam (Feisal Abdul Rauf) is behind is an insult to the people – the families of the people – who died there on Sept. 11. We are still at war.”  Post on Politics

Ha ha!  That McCollum – as insightful as he is good looking.  So what’s the deal, Billy boy?  Bad guys don’t get to spend their money the way they want unless they’re sugar executives?

Rick Scott:  “[T]he president “would rather stand with the ACLU and the liberal establishment than with the 9/11 victims and their families. It is shameful and the act of a cowardly politician, not that of the leader of the United States of America.”  — Post on Politics

While this zillionaire health care executive doesn’t know the difference between the ACLU and liberals, I concede he knows something about cowardice.

But don’t lose all hope.  There’s Kendrick Meek:  “Our nation was founded on the pillar of religious freedom and construction of the mosque should not be denied on religious grounds, but this is ultimately a decision for the local community in New York City to make”  and Charlie Crist: “[W]e’re a country that in my view stands for freedom of religion and respect for others. I know there are sensitivities and I understand them…This is a place where you’re supposed to be able to practice your religion without the government telling you you can’t.”  – Post on Politics

The details of a New York City zoning issue aren’t my affair –until people clamoring for my vote start pissing on the First Amendment.  Then it’s everybody’s business.  Keep it in mind, fellow Floridians, later this month when you’re pulling levers in the primary.

Posted by: squathole | August 13, 2010

World Wide Webfoot

This is all ducked fup, perfect for a Triskaidekaphobiac.  Wonder if it has anything to do with that duck boat tourist incident in the Delaware River earlier this summer?

A Delaware County [PA] mother suing Walt Disney Parks and Resorts claims that she suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder and about a dozen other “permanent” maladies because Donald Duck grabbed her breasts two years ago at Epcot Center……[She} states in her lawsuit that a Disney employee dressed in a Donald Duck costume touched one of her breasts and continued to "molest her" when she approached him for an autograph in May 2008, while she held her child.

Beyond the humiliation of being groped by an anthropomorphic duck in a sailor suit, [plaintiff] claims that the incident caused “severe physical injury,” a “shock to her entire nervous system,” “muscle contraction headaches,” “acute anxiety,” “nausea, cold sweats, insomnia, nightmares, flashbacks, digestive problems” and other conditions that are “permanent in nature.”  — philly.com

Can anybody other than a desperate personal injury lawyer take this seriously?

Guess she forgot to….duck.

This reminds me of an anecdote based on a joke.  You already know the joke.  Mickey files for divorce from Minnie, and the disbelieving judge says, “I can’t understand why you’d want to divorce your wife of 75 years just because she’s acting a little strange lately.”  To which Mickey replies, “I didn’t say she was acting strange, Your Honor, I said she was fucking Goofy.

The anecdote:  Years ago I worked in an office where one of the interns was South African, and had no idea who the Disney characters were.  When this joke was told, he needed a long explanation.  Weeks later at a party, he was challenged to repeat the joke he’d learned.  Gamely (and drunkenly) he bumbled through it, finishing off with, “I didn’t say she was strange, Your Honor!  I said she was fucking Pluto.

I used the expression “fucking Pluto” the rest of the year, and in fact, I still do.

BERJAYA

Posted by: squathole | August 12, 2010

Injin-uity

No lie – posting has been rough lately.  Between the medication I’m on and the sleep deprivation, it’s impossible to concentrate on anything more complicated than accurate peeing.

Settle for a silly joke instead?

President Barack Obama was invited to address a major gathering of the American Indian Nation two weeks ago in upstate  New York.

He spoke for almost an hour BERJAYAabout his plans for increasing every Native American’s present standard of living. He referred to his time as a U.S. Senator and how he had voted for every Native American issue that came to the floor of the Senate.

Although President Obama was vague about the details of his plans, he seemed most enthusiastic and spoke eloquently about his ideas for helping his “red sisters and brothers.”

At the conclusion of his speech, the Tribes presented Obama with a plaque inscribed with his new Indian name, “Walking Eagle.” The proud President then departed in his motorcade to a fundraiser, waving to the crowds.

A news reporter later asked the group of chiefs how they came to select the new name they had given to the President.

They explained that “Walking Eagle” is the name given to a bird so full ofshit it can no longer fly.

Substitute the politician of your choice if you don’t like this one, and pass it on!

Posted by: squathole | August 10, 2010

Inside Story

When Mr. Schwinkle sent me the link a few weeks ago, I wondered why anybody in her right mind would want her pasties to fly.  Isn’t their whole purpose to stay attached and cover up the delicacies beneath them?

BERJAYAMaybe it’s supposed to be pastries?  Flying cookies, perhaps?

(Okay, so I’m a bit slow lately.  Lack of testosterone makes a man stupid.)

Flying Pasties™ are meant to obscure your private parts when entering a typical airport scanner.

Available in four designs so you can keep your dignity in style. “Generic” Design now in stock – other styles arriving daily! (Have a suggestion for a design? email us) Order conveniently today with Paypal. Flying Pasties. Giving you back your right to privacy.™

“Anyone who trades liberty for security deserves neither liberty nor security”  — Benjamin Franklin

Yeah, it’s a sure bet old Ben was thinking about airport-scanner porn when he wrote that.

Of course I’m not a woman (yet – still working on my lesbianism), but the prospect of some uniformed security babe drooling lustfully at my private parts doesn’t exactly fill me with dread or loathing.  In a nicely perverted way, I find it flattering.  Also unlikely.

But why would I care enough to cover up for an X-Ray machine?  Why would anybody?  What’s the big deal?  The images themselves are about as erotic as Rorschach test, and they’re entirely anonymous anyway.  People need to lighten up.

Besides, a scanner detecting pasties might become suspicious – the obvious question becomes, “What’s she hiding under there besides her nipple?”   It’s begging for a strip-search.

Oh well.  American ingenuity at work.  I think flying pastries would have a wider appeal.

Posted by: squathole | August 9, 2010

Cleff Dweller

So let’s see.   Over the last two centuries, the French, Spanish, and British (in no particular order)  have raped Haiti from its adenoids to its gonads  — and just recently they had a devastating earthquake from which they haven’t recovered…..so what’s next?

BERJAYAWyclef Jean…. officially announced in Port-au-Prince on Thursday that he’s running for president of Haiti. …It is a fascinating bit of celebrity news.  But it’s also a very serious pursuit by an utterly untested and unqualified candidate who has a strong chance of actually becoming the president of that crippled nation.

Jean, a Haitian citizen who grew up in Brooklyn and New Jersey …enters a crowded field.   It includes his own uncle, Raymond Joseph, the distinguished silver-haired Haitian ambassador to the United States, whom Jean himself had encouraged to run….But Jean has been catapulted to the front of that field because celebrity trumps solemnity.    – NYTimes

Celebrity trumps solemnity” isn’t the half of it.   There’s also this inclination, in high relief this election season, that any zillionaire, bloviator, or popular dickhead is capable of running the government better than the entrenched elected clods  currently in charge.   Florida is Ground Zero in this populist (bowel) movement: witness the rise of Rick Scott and Jeff Greene.

Politicians are repugnant creatures, and our sense that they’re largely criminal, narcissistic, and out for their own well-being is spot-on.  But the next step – that any moron with a media package could do just as well if not better – is delusional.  You’re replacing a headache with an upset stomach; a tumor with an abscess. Stop kidding yourself.  Politics is a serious business, and ushering in novice fools to fondle the levers of power is to replace thieves with cutthroats.

While I agree with the populist notion that virtually anybody can govern, I am wary of three particular professions in that role: show business personalities, law enforcement officials, and athletes.  Exhibit A is Ronald Reagan, of course, a Platonic imbecile lacking both brains and testicles, manipulated by moronic ideology and a serpentine spouse.  Cops are paranoid power freaks, dangerous, sanctimonious,  and messianic, while uniformly tolerant of high-level corruption.  I offer Frank Rizzo, Joe Arpaio,  Nick Navarro  as examples.  Athletes are spoiled imbeciles – for every Governor Jesse Ventura there are dozens of Senator Jim Bunnings.   Give them a playbook, they eat their own crayons.

These pathetic creatures should be banned from government office on principle.  I’m more comfortable empowering the clergy, and I’m an atheist.

BERJAYAHaiti is fucked enough without a hip-hopper in charge.  Its biggest problem is its own nauseating class system, a relic of a century of French domination, that allows its isolated upper class to treat the gigantic poverty-stricken majority like insects.   The nation is more corrupt than a Jersey shore ghetto, and they lack even a penguin-shaped Snookie to charm outsiders.    It needs competence, professionalism, experience, and power, not a grinning clown whose resume consists of a remake of “We Are The World.”

In one respect it doesn’t matter.  No matter who’s in charge, Haiti is as cursed as the Red Sox, if not as repulsive.  But giving over the lives of innocent people to the likes of a dunce with a dream is Greek tragedy, up to and including the inevitable final butt-fucking act.

Where’s Ralph Nader?  THAT’s who they need!

Posted by: squathole | August 6, 2010

Want a Hot Tip?

We’re back from Key West, where we both had a wonderful time despite my broken toe, a war wound from the previous weekend.  But as Fran G’Panni , Queen of the Keys pointed out, a broken bone in the hoof won’t affect perching on a bar stool.   And by Saturday night I wasn’t pissing blood and hot lead any more.

Wanna hear that story?  Let’s back up.

The Thursday before we leave, I keep the first of two pre-treatment appointments with the radiation oncologists.  Beams “R” Us.  You Lay Bare We Play There.  They want to run a simulation – note just one “tee” in the word – before getting down to radioactive business.

BERJAYASo after the usual and anticipated foreplay, where the doctor, receptionist, security guard, parking valet, and two curious souls in the waiting room all take turns shoving appliances up my ass strictly for diagnostic purposes, we stagger into the CAT scan room for a photo op.

The torture is brief but intense.  I’m on my back, scrotum hanging free.  Between the effects of 3 months’ Lupron, the cold room, and the sheer fucking terror I’m feeling, it’s astonishing the doctor can even find my dick, but they’re pros, and they do.  I realize I’m in serious trouble when both doctor and technician grimly insert earplugs.

With a vaudevillian flourish, the doctor expertly clamps John Thomas with some infernal vice-like tool, then installs his sharpened pancake spatula into my dick tip, corkscrews it wide, and backs in his SUV  (well, that’s what it felt like).   He fires an iodine solution deep into the urinary track, urethra, and bladder.  I am too busy screaming to faint.

Not so bad, is it? he actually asks.

Next time break my other toe  instead, okay? I gasp.

So now it’s not only burning like a million bee stings, I feel like I need to pee.  Don’t worry about that, the technician tells me, laughing.  We got you clamped — you can’t pee!

Clamped!  My dick is freaking clamped shut!  Damn and fuck all.  What if it backfires?  That prostate has enough problems without a BP like urine spill fouling my ruined biosystem.

(I’m not sure I actually said that — it’s hard to talk when your jaw is clenched so tight you can hear your own molars splintering.)

Anyway, we finish this CAT scan and the technician puts three ink markers on my pelvis (right side, center, left side) which she says will be made permanent next time when I come in — I get tattooed.  Something else attributable to our separate cancers that Guido and I will share.  In her case, it was aesthetics, in mine, it’s to helps them aim the beam.  She tells me they strive for pinpoint accuracy, to within 2 mm.  They don’t want to burn another hole in my ass, or through my bladder, etc.  I can work with that.

The next few pees are wall-pounding fiery agony, but by Saturday the blood has mostly vanished from my urine.   In between shots of Partida Reposado, I wash enough Kalik Gold, Grolsch, Key West Sunset Ale, and Elephant through to make certain.

No signs of dengue fever.  Yet.

Posted by: squathole | July 30, 2010

Sweat Emnity

Here’s a guy living in what he calls “thermally hostile” Salina, Kansas who in 1977 turned off his air conditioner for environmental and health reasons.  He even wrote a book about it (Losing Our Cool), making the argument that our ever-increasing dependence on AC is weakening us as a nation.   In an  Op-Ed for the Washington Post this month he derided our appetite for cooler air as self-defeating:

This isn’t smart. In a country that’s among the world’s highest greenhouse-gas emitters, air conditioning is one of the worst power-guzzlers. The energy required to air-condition American homes and retail spaces has doubled since the early 1990s. Turning buildings into refrigerators burns fossil fuels, which emits greenhouse gases, which raises global temperatures, which creates a need for — you guessed it — more air-conditioning.

Naturally, he had a gigantic hostile response, even death threats.  Death threats!  Carlos Miller, take notes!  All you ever get for all your hard work with the camera is shoved around and assaulted by cops – this rube sits in his (infernally hot) house writing articles and pisses off people to the point of jihad!

BERJAYAI’m kinda pissed myself because Guido and I never use air conditioning.  We moved to South Florida in 1985 and haven’t needed it once – in fact, we had the two overgrown wall units removed from our house years ago.  Not once did I ever dream that this was controversial, let alone worth a book.  Dumb shit that I am.

Yesterday we had friends over for dinner.  They brought the lobsters they caught, Guido prepared and served them.  At one point. With the oven on, the kitchen temperature hit 93.  No problem.  We moved here to enjoy heat and humidity.  Our biggest gripe is that it doesn’t last long enough – winter arrives every year, carried down like an infectious disease with the Yankees and Canadians.

I wish these Kansans well.  They’re right about this.  There are smarter ways to keep comfortable, starting with the clothes we wear and the breezes we shun.  I realize that advocating something smart often upsets major segments of the population (Exhibit A: Obama’s first 2 years and the Teapublican response), but run the numbers on this and tell me what you come up with.

If only I could figure out how to bottle and sell my own sweat.

Speaking of sweat, Guido and I are heading down to the Keys for a long weekend, testing this theory about dengue fever.  It’s my last chance for a getaway before my radiation treatments begin next week, and I want my outer glow to match my inner.  Ciao!


Posted by: squathole | July 29, 2010

Finally Stopped Rolling

BERJAYALast Saturday, Cartoonist John Callahan proved again that nobody gets out of here alive.

Callahan was already a seasoned alcoholic when he became paralyzed in his early 20’s following a car wreck.  Ironically, that might have saved his life.  It certainly started his career as a practicing quadriplegic cartoonist, providing him with experience and perspective quite unlike any others in the field – both fields.  Which led to some real friction.

Anybody else making such cruel fun of disabled persons would have been hounded by the professionally sensitive, new age, politically correct vermin infesting the media — Orca Winfreys of the world with their vapid self-help, We-are-One, and I Feelyer Pain crap.  Not Callahan.  “I’m not ‘Special’ and I’m not ‘Challenged,’” he said once.  “I’m a fucking cripple.”  His awkwardly drawn cartoons attested to this attitude, alternately pissing off and delighting readers nationwide.

I loved his stuff and bought all the books.  His contempt for the conventional was right up my alley, and, from my own personal experience working and playing with disabled people, right on target.

Unique.  We’ll never see his likes again.  Callahan broke his own back at age 21, but they broke the mold right after his birth.

Posted by: squathole | July 28, 2010

Moosehead vs Squirrel Skin

We were out last night meeting for the first time and drinking with a famous blogger and her entourage, so this post is dedicated t o wonderful new friends:

BERJAYAYou’d expect a lot from a bottle of beer costing $765. What you get is 55 percent alcohol — and served in a squirrel.

According to Scottish firm BrewDog, [the beer] is the “strongest, most expensive and most shocking beer in the world.”  Just 12 bottles were made and the company has already sold out. They will be shipped out to buyers in the United States, Canada, Italy, Denmark, Scotland and England next week.

The dead animals which were used to create the beers’ unusual appearance were four squirrels, seven weasels and a hare. All were roadkill, James Watt, co-founder of BrewDog, told msnbc.com.

Watt said the beer should be treated with care when drinking.  –   msnbc.com

No squirrels or weasels were killed for our entertainment: mostly we drank Yuengling.  While I see the appeal of a beer with 55% alcohol,  I don’t see the added value of drinking it from an animal corpse.  Oh. I know, I’ve slurped my share of beaver beverage, a/k/a poontang (I’m partial to the orange variety heh heh heh), but hey.  There are subtle shades of flavor to savor in this complicated world.

That noted, for a $765 beer served from a stuffed squirrel, I expect some complimentary nuts.  And I don’t mean psychotics praising my good looks and fancy attire….which, if they did, would PROVE they’re nuts.

Okay, that’s it.

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