Are These Really Necessary?

Could someone please explain to me why my taxes are paying for the police to drive around in SUV's? Yes I know, regular police cars guzzle gas too, like a cheap whore guzzles...well, you get the picture. If these guys were chasing Bo and Luke offroad through rough country terrain, I wouldn't have a problem with it. But I live in the friggin' city and there is just just no need for these vehicles in my local police department. It makes about as much sense as my mother driving one (as a matter of fact she does, and we give her shit about it all the time). Stupid bastards.

No more for me, thanks.

Have you ever had one of these overzealous servers who feels it necessary to refill your damn glass every 45 seconds? Hey chief- I'll need a refill when it's gone, not after I've taken three sips. It takes painstaking detail to get just the right mixture of sweetner and/or lemon juice in a glass of tea or water. Don't these idiots realize that they're upsetting this delicate flavor balance with every pour? Go make yourself useful and mop the floor or re-adjust your flair buttons. Come on folks, use your heads!

Ashamed to be Caucasian, Part 1

I played a lame gig the other night and everything was going along as planned- it was beginning to wind down and it looked like we'd be getting out of there early. Then lo and behold, some bitch had to get out on the dance floor and start the electric slide.

"Do you guys know anything upbeat that we can to the electric slide to?" Lady, we're an acoustic act. Anyhow, she succeeded in recruiting enough folks to attempt to follow along with this banal party ritual.

What is it with white people that they feel the need to embarrass themselves on the dance floor? And don't get me started on country line dancing. First of all, as the prophet George Carlin once said, white people have no business dancing whatsoever. There's a reason why Auburn University offers a degree in Poultry Science- to keep white folks off the dance floor and tending to activities that better suit them. Fellow Caucasians, let's try to keep our collective eye on the ball. Mm'k?

Hell

Hell is where I live. It's also known as Hoover, the city in which I've lived for almost 7 years. This is a city whose government has continually raped its own land for the past 30 years in order to build endless commercial and residential developments in order to draw shoppers and residents to their area. In the process, the city has grown exponentially into a wasteland of excess. The largest mall in the state, The Riverchase Galleria, is located there and I just happen to live next to it. Galleria traffic has always been problematic during the holidays and this year has been by far the worst.

The city attempeted to alleviate the congestion problems several years ago by constructing a flyover off the main interstate with its own exit to the mall. The first Christmas after it was completed was actually quite calm in terms of traffic flow. I guess they decided that was entirely too efficient, so they built an outdoor shopping center right next to the Galleria called Patton Creek. And now they've screwed themselves and everyone else who has to drive near this mess on a daily basis. It is an absolute traffic nightmare. And it keeps getting worse with current and future developments as far as the eye can see down Highway 150. Serenity now! Calgon take me away!

Tebow or Not Tebow? That is the question.

How pathetic has my life become that my relative happiness and well-being is wholly dependant upon the decision of an 18 year-old kid living on the planet of Florida?

U R GAY

I hate personalized license plates. These miniature billboards contain messages that are: a) really stupid jokes or attempts at wordplay - i.e. JUST CRUZN; b) an attempt at some serious message that the rest of us could give two shits about - i.e. J DIED 4U; c) some inside humor that the other 100 million drivers don't get or don't care about. And the worst part is that these geniuses think they are being so incredibly clever when in fact they are guilty of pure, unadulterated faggotry. If you're one of the thousands of losers who fall into the category of vanity plate owner, please do me and everyone else a favor and kill yourself now. Thank you.

The Death Of Music, Part 3

Antony and The Johnsons - another weird and shitty band that I saw on TV. This guy/gal has some kind of transgender thing going and apparently doesn't like to be photographed. On this 25th anniversary of John Lennon's death, it perturbs me that we continue to be inundated with this kind of crap on the airwaves.

The Death Of Music, Part 2

Carlos Santana Fragrance for men and women. No other words are necessary.

The Death Of Music...

...I've seen it and it's name is James Blunt. I had never heard of this turdburglar until I saw him on SNL from the other night. Apparently he's the bomb in England right now. I've haven't heard lyrics that bad or a worse vocal delivery in a long time (at least since that Anita Bryant concert). How did this guy get signed or even considered for signing? His voice sounded like a cross between Dave Matthews and Ned Beatty's SQUEEEEEEEEAL. Maybe I'm officially old now but I just don't understand some of the music I'm hearing nowadays. Word.

Hey Kip!

Transportation Security Administration chief Kip Hawley is proposing to allow small scissors and tools back onto airliners and (SHOCK!) it's drawing strident opposition from flight attendants, families of victims of the Sept. 11 hijackings and lawmakers. The plan would allow airline passengers to carry scissors less than 4 inches long and wrenches and screwdrivers less than 7 inches long.

First of all- no one named Kip should wield any kind of authority whatsoever, unless they're running for president of the Saved By The Bell fan club. Secondly Kipster, how long do you think those box cutters were that the 9/11 hijackers used? That's right Kip, probably not very long. If you buy one at Home Depot and hold it next to your little pecker, you'll see that they can make them pretty small. You don't think they could inflict any harm with scissors or a screwdriver?

So we have to wait a little longer at the airport for security purposes. So we might have to go buy another set of nail clippers due to confiscation. That's a small price to pay for not dying on an airplane. Get to the airport earlier Skip. Or how about checking a bag once in awhile? And while you're at it, change you friggin' name! Where do you think Kip Tyner is now? That's right- still diggin' for mud in T-town.

I Didn't Realize He Knew 300 Words

Fulmer e-mails regret to Vols fans

Associated Press


KNOXVILLE, Tenn. -- Tennessee football coach Phillip Fulmer's acknowledgment that the 2005 season was "unacceptable" has been put in writing to the fans.

Fulmer wrote a 300-word letter that was e-mailed Tuesday to about 38,000 season ticket holders and other fans signed up to receive periodic newsletters from the athletic department through its Web site.

"This year was a disappointing season for everyone in the Tennessee family," wrote Fulmer, echoing what he's been saying on the radio and television and in speeches. "We started this season with great expectations and failed to live up to those expectations.

"I assure you that no one is happy about our season -- especially me, and I know that our fans deserve better than what we produced this year."

The letter was gleaned from 10 pages of notes from a speech Fulmer gave Monday to the Knoxville Quarterback Club. That speech also expressed his concern over finishing 5-6, the first losing record and lack of a bowl bid since 1988.

"Coach Fulmer was trying to find a way to communicate to fans," athletic department spokeswoman Tiffany Carpenter said Tuesday.

Fulmer wrote that he is taking an audit of the program.

"We grossly underachieved offensively, and special teams were erratic at best," he said. "No stone will be left unturned and no question left unanswered as to what went wrong."

On Monday, Fulmer took one step in what he hopes will turn around the program by introducing David Cutcliffe as offensive coordinator to replace Randy Sanders. Cutcliffe was on Tennessee's staff with Fulmer for 17 years and was offensive coordinator from 1993-98 before leaving to be head coach at Mississippi. He was fired at the end of last season.

Fulmer also fired two assistants, receivers coach Pat Washington and offensive line coach Jimmy Ray Stephens. Sanders resigned on Oct. 31.

I Hate Blue Cross/Blue Shield

I'm sick of this friggin' company, which bascially owns the state of Alabama (along with God). I mailed a prescription drug claim 11 days ago to a local address and the claim still isn't showing up when I check online. I called the customer disservice number and after sitting on hold for what can only be described as the equivalent of the time it takes to listen to In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida by Iron Butterfly, I finally spoke to a swarmy gent by the name of Patrick. He proceeded to inform me that there's really no way to know whether they received my claim or not and that maybe I should try faxing it. Thanks Patrick. You're A-Number One in my book. Prick.

Happy Turkey Day.

Hope everyone has a swell holiday and eats lots of good ol' dead animal flesh. Mmm.

Fantastic Finish!

Congratulations to the Alabama Crimson Tide football team for such a marvelous performance on Saturday. Seriously, I've been watching football closely for 30 years and that is THE worst game by an offensive line that I have ever seen.

Enough Already!

The other day I walked into a local Bruno's supermarket and stopped dead in my tracks. They were playing Christmas music over the PA. I immediately glanced at my watch and the date was November 15th. NOVEMBER 15TH! Why is it that we are continuously subjected to Christmas music earlier and earlier every year? Don't tell me it's just my imagination or that it's the same way it's always been- that's B.S. I shouldn't have to hear one single note until after Thanksgiving. And it really shouldn't be until December 1st, but I can live with those few days in between. Isn't there something that can be done about this? Can't we alert our Congressmen to this travesty? God knows they're not doing anything else constructive with our tax money.

Joy

Every so often I sit back and assess the greatest moments of my life and each time there is one that sticks out above all others. And this week just happens to be the 20th anniversary of that moment. I'm talking about, of course, "The Kick". Twenty years ago this week, Van Tiffin nailed a 52 yard field goal that drove a stake into the heart of the infidels (Auburn) as time expired. I was there at Legion Field in the opposite end zone with my buddy Brent, and we had just endured three hours of relentless orange and blue shakers in our faces from all the Aubbie rednecks that surrounded us.

Having never been married, I've never had the experience of finding the perfect mate and joining her in eternal matrimony. I've also never had the opportunity to experience my own son or daughter being born, although being around my Goddaughter makes me as giddy as a schoolgirl (and she just happens to be the offspring of my aforementioned friend, Brent). So because of this, "The Kick" remains as the greatest single joyful moment of my entire life. Unless you are a true Tide fan, it would be impossible for you to understand or relate. And I don't give a rat's ass if you do or don't anyway. All I know is that it's Iron Bowl week and I want to beat those bastards. ROLL, BABY, ROLL!

Braindead

brain-dead adj.
Brain-damaged in the extreme. It tends to imply terminal design failure rather than malfunction or simple stupidity. "This comm program doesn't know how to send a break -- how brain-dead!"

VEGAS, BABY, VEGAS!!

This weekend I'll be heading to Sin City for my friend Jack's 40th birthday bash. We'll be dining at The Bellagio Friday night and watching the Tide on Saturday. And not only is it Jack's birthday but it’s also he and his wife’s wedding anniversary, and at midnight on Saturday they’re going to have their wedding vows renewed at a cheesy Elvis chapel. I mentioned this to my mom and added that it wouldn't be too far out of the realm of reality for me to end up getting drunk and marrying a nasty meth junkie showgirl. Not surprisingly, she actually wasn’t all that displeased with the notion of my arrival back to the 'ham with a new (albeit skanky) wife. With three sons who have yet to tie the knot or supply her with any grandkids, she’ll basically take what she can get at this point. Poor woman.

U-G-L-Y, You ain't got no alibi...

Am I the only one who thinks the Pontiac Aztek is the ugliest vehicle ever produced? Why on earth would anyone purchase this piece of crap? Makes me ashamed to be an American.

What is with you people?

This will be the first in series of rants regarding my confusion with the opposite sex- aka "you people". This week: what's with the make-up, specifically eyeliner? Last weekend I performed at a Halloween party with one of my many bands, Three Hour Tour. We decided to dress like rock stars, and I opted for the heroin junkie country star look. I figured a little make-up would enhance my look, so I had the drummer's MILFy wife don me with some eyeliner. As I found out later, that crap WILL NOT come off easily. It's easier to remove stink from s*#t than it is that stuff from your eyelids. I know, I know- make-up remover does the trick better than soap and water. But come on, why do you people put that stuff on your face every day? Is it really worth it?

WHOO-HOO!!

The fat bastard went down on Saturday, and I was giddy as a school girl. The Tide finally erased years of frustration with a win over Fat Phil Fulmer and the Tennessee Vols. I was dancing in the parking lot and I didn't care who saw me. Then when I got back to the 'ham, I taught my 3 year-old Goddaughter to say that "Auburn stinks like a poopy diaper" while watching them go down to LSU. All in all, it was a beautiful weekend.

FAT BASTARD

This weekend the Tide plays host to the UT Vols and The Great Pumpkin, otherwise known as Tennessee's head coach, Phillip Fulmer. This fat bastard has taken pleasure targeting the Tide nation, on and off the field. Words can't even begin to describe the hatred that Bama fans have for this sorry excuse for a man, especially after blowing the whistle on the Tide program.

I'll be returning to the scene of the crime this weekend. The five-overtime loss two years ago was the most agonizing and gut-wrenching experience of my life. If the Tide can pull off the victory on Saturday, I'll letting off a lot of steam by singing "Rammer Jammer" at the top of my lungs. ROLL TIDE!

From the TMI files: The other day I had a high fever so I went to see my doctor. Among other things, I ended up having a prostate probe in order to rule out any problems in that particular area. Now, I had never been probed down there (although there's more to come soon when I turn 40) and needless to say it was certainly a (red) eye-opening experience. There's nothing like having a doctor (especially a female) tell you to drop your pants and bend over. At that point, snide remarks and sophmoric jokes ("Ben? I'm Tommy- nice to meet you.", "Moooooon river...") are pointless.

This led me to wonder just how it is that some folks like to be pleasured in the nether regions of anal crater land, gay or not. I've heard of females who like a little putt-putt in the rear pucker. I'm pretty open minded, but I say poo poo to that idea. Some doors are meant to be exits and not entrances. Any comments are welcome.

Hazz Benz again


This weekend The Hazz Benz will be playing for a bunch of old folks at a 20 year HS reunion. This band is all about the cheese and gettin' the chicks humpin' and bumpin' on the dance floor. What could be better than watching a bunch of almost 40 year-old ladies booty shakin' their Mom jeans?

Welcome to my blog. Here you'll have the honor and privelege of reading my daily/weekly b.s. (depending on how often I feel like it). Enjoy.