Wednesday, February 25, 2009

The Rebuttal

Well, you’ve heard or read everyone else’s opinion about the President’s address, you might as well read my admittedly ill-informed remarks on the Republican's rebuttal.
As a point of reference, I believe there’s very little difference between the Democrats and Republicans.  We’re talking semantics here.  Sure, sure.  They have different “philosophies” on government.  But, when all is said and done, we’re only talking a matter of degrees.  They all bow before the same god…money.
That being said, I suppose I’m a tiny bit partial to the Democratic Party at this moment.  A tiny bit.  After eight years of ultra-conservative, backwards thinking Republican rule, I’m a bit sick of it already.  Don’t be fooled.  At this point, I’d be happy seeing Britney Spears running the country than any Republican.
Oh…but they try there best, don’t they?  Those Republicans are trying so hard to win back our love.  I’m watching Bobby Jindal, the governor of Louisiana, rebut the president’s address the other day.  First off, how clever is it that the Republican’s put up a minority figure to rebut the address.  Sooooo…clever!  Because, let’s fact it, if they put up another white man that looked like a banker, we might not here their “new” message.  {eye roll}

NOT Bobby Jindal

Bobby Jindal spent the first 10 minutes of his speech giving us his life story.  Hey, Bobby.  I know you’re ethnic.  I can see it.  No offense, but no one gives shit one about your sob story of a life.  It doesn’t matter how cleverly it ties into your message of the “new” Republican party.  Spare me.  At this point in the game, we all have a sob story.  I don’t want to hear yours.  Just tell me how the fuck you’re gonna fix the problems this country’s facing.
And as coincidence might have it, Bobby Jindal is Louisiana's governor, too.  Let’s pull out our 7th grade geography text books for a second.  I’ve got a pop quiz for you.  Don’t worry.  Don’t worry.  It’s a take home quiz.  Ready?  Louisiana is home to which major city that had it’s dikes busted through by a level 4 hurricane a few years ago?  That’s right!  New Orleans. The very city, the very disaster that President Bush acknowledges as one of his biggest fuck ups!  Now look, I’m not from that region of the country.  And I certainly don’t speak for them, but for the love of the Christ, if I lived in that city and a Republican had the nerve to speak on my behalf, I’d be royally pissed.  New Orleans survives and continues to fight, in spite of the Republican president/congress’s neglect.  Certainly not because of them.

4 out of 5 seventh graders picked the red "X" for New Orleans

And I love the “new”/old message that the GOP is for small government.  Yea.  Yea.  Yea.  I heard Jindal acknowledge that government grew over the last eight years in his rebuttal.  His acknowledgment doesn’t negate the fact, though.  And how convenient that now that the power was stripped from them, the Republicans are preaching small government.  That, and tax cuts.  Whew!  Those tax cuts sure are a great idea!  I mean, hell, those 1.6 trillion dollars in tax cuts George Bush initiated back in 2001, worked wonders!  You remember those, right?  You don’t?  Oh…no matter.  We have the deficit to prove it.  Because we financed those tax cuts by borrowing money.  Yea, that’s right.  We borrowed money for a tax cut, in “prosper” times.  Small government, though.
Jindal had the audacity to say that he wasn’t going to take the money from the stimulus package.  C’mon!  I appreciate his principles. I do. There’s a time to stand on ceremony.  And a time to know your role and shut the hell up (’s the time to know your role). If I were one of his constituents, I’d be knocking on that mansion door of his.  How detrimental do these guys have to be?  Know what?  I think we should hold the smartass to his remarks.  And there, my friends, there lies the problem.  No one holds these guys accountable.  For anything.  Just ask a few of those bank CEOs.
I know it’s politics.  I know it’s the same old thing.  However, this isn’t the time.  Politics be damned!  I’m sick of the rhetoric.  I’m tired of the sleight of hand.  All the sudden the Republicans are looking out for us?  They’re gonna be the watchdogs?  Please.  Spare me.  How about for once the members of the Republican party do what they were elected to do?  Serve the country. Help fix the fucking mess your party put this country in, or get the hell out of the way.

that’s almost how sick I am of the rhetoric. if it had more chunks in it, it’d be a tad closer to how sick I am

As for the Democrats…watch out.  Time is clicking away.
C'mon! You know you wanna

Monday, February 23, 2009

An ugly, vicious circle

Typically, I don’t write about celebrities. As a society, we are wayyyy too fixated on celebrity culture. Most celebrities are over-exposed prima donnas, who aren’t worth the press they get. Yea, I’m using a wide brush here, but come on. Instead of worshipping these over paid glory hounds, maybe we should spend a moment or two thanking the teacher that’s got to put up with that over crowded classroom. But, why should we? What kind of work do teachers do, anyway? They get weekends and the whole summer off, right?

{eye roll} whatever...

I find this whole thing about Rihanna and Chris Brown very disturbing. And just like any other celebrity controversy, the news of her beating is all over the place. She’s on the cover of every “news” rag in town. And now that haunting, leaked image of Rihanna’s beaten face is all over the internets. You can’t escape it.

Look, I don’t claim to know the whole story. In fact, I really don’t know any of the story. I really don’t have a vested interest. Musically, I can’t say I’m a big fan of hers. It’s mostly ear candy. But, the kid is cute. As for him, I wonder when this whole over-the-top rap/ faux R&B thing is going to go away. For the love of the Christ, even hair metal didn’t last this long. Where is rap’s Nirvana???

So, I ask the rhetorical question: Why would anyone beat up on her? Obviously she’s attractive, talented and popular. Even if she’s the biggest pain in the ass, even if she’s nagging your ass day in and day out to take out the fucking trash (which I’d be willing to wager dollars to donuts the two of them have enough money to pay someone to take out the trash) she still doesn’t deserve to be smacked around.

The way I see it, one of the biggest problems we have today, is that there’s no one to teach these boys how to be men. There’s no one to show these boys how to rise above their anger. Lashing out is the easiest, the simplest path to take. Rising above that rage, that’s what a man is. That’s what a man does.

But, what do these boys see instead? Money. Fame and notoriety. It’s every where. In the music, on TV. You can’t escape it. You’ve got MTV glorifying it on Cribs. Worse yet on that show My Super Sweet Sixteen. Kids who just want. And want. And want.

Who are the role models? The kid just getting out of high school with the multi-million dollar NBA contract? How the hell can he be expected to be a role model? Or how about the poor kid lucky enough to get a record deal because he can rap or sing? These kids are thrust into the spotlight, having no depth, no maturity, no wisdom. And no one to show them the way. Yet, they’re expected to be role models? Forget about being a role model. How can we expect them to be men?

And those are the lucky ones. For every kid that “makes” it, how many don’t? All we’re left with are angry, bitter youths who don’t give a shit about anything, let alone someone else. We’re left with frustrated boys who take it out on the girls. Because they don’t have real role models to show them how to rise above and be a man. It’s an ugly, vicious circle.

Unfortunately, until we start caring a bit more about each other, rather than how much money Joe and Jane Celebrity has, what we can expect more of, is this:

C'mon! You know you wanna

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Weekend Special: Silly rabbit, Razors are for kids

in getting what hopefully is the final installment of Adventures in Movie Theater Going together, i thought back on an incident i had with one of those Razor scooters. the scooter incident really had nothing to do with the movie theater incident, other than the fact that I was involved. the kids, too. but this time, i was the one getting hurt. and pain = funny. so..."

by the Juice
originally published August 2007
In case you hadn’t already known, the Juice is a bit of a tool.  And by a bit, I mean certifiably tool-ish.  Why?  You might inquire.  Well, let the Juice explain…
The other day, the Juice was playin’ with the kids.  Yea, the Juice can have SOME fun with my kids once in awhile.  It usually involves planets alignin’ or a blue moon risin’, but nonetheless, the kids and the Juice ain’t always at each others throats.  The Juice bitches a good game, but we can have fun. Once in awhile.  Besides, any reason for the Juice to act like an asshole, and embarrass the kids at the same time, is good fun in my book.
So, the Juice is ridin’ on one of the kids’ Razor scooters.  Now, this is like walkin’ a tight rope without a net for the Juice.  It just ain’t wise.  It’s probably wiser ridin’ a cycle without a helmet, then for the Juice to ride a Razor scooter.  Cause more than likely, the Juice is gonna damage something ridin’ this thin wheeled skull buster (hence the name “Razor”).  But, the kids were laughin’ (probably at the Juice) and havin’ what seemed like a good time. So, what the hell, right?
Lil known fact about the Juice, I ain’t much of a shoe wearer.  Sure, sure.  I’ll wear ‘em to social functions, cause society says I should.  I wear ‘em to places like McDonald’s or my local Slow n Stop.  But, only cause it’s “the law”.  No shirt, no shoes, no service kinda thing.  Otherwise, I don’t wear footwear.  It’s not cause the Juice don’t like shoes.  Or the Juice has purtty feet.  Neither are the case.  I just don’t wear shoes.  I know.  I know.  I know what yer thinkin’.  Yer thinkin’:  “the Juice, if you don’t wear shoes, don’t you step on things?”  Yup.  I sure do.  Legos, Barbie accessories, dried play-doh.  You name it, the Juice’s step in it.  Includin’ poo, pee and throw up.  The kids’ and the dog’s.  Ya think the Juice would learn his lesson?  Nah.  And I gotta tell ya, pound for pound the worst thing to step on is a Lego piece.  That’ll piss ya off more than any dang thing.  But, I digress…
Razor scooters are equipped with a nice feature, a lever on the back wheel that ya press down on to slow the scooter down.  It’s a brake, duh.  The Juice is racin’ the neighborhood kids bare foot on the scooter.  And, oh yea, the Juice is winnin’ every race.  Stupid kids.  They’re so slow.  That’ll teach ‘em for havin’ short legs.  Anyway, this one race in particular, the Juice was damn near approachin’ the speed of light, I’m goin so fast.  Jethro and Barbara are seriously eatin’ my exhaust.  I handedly win the race.  I press down on the brake to do my victory lap around those lil turds and nearly fly off the scooter.  The brake was so flippin’ hot, the Juice burned the pad of my bare foot.
Before ya call the Juice a sissy, which is your god given right, let me first defend myself here by sayin’ I’ve got a blister the size of a quarter on my foot.  Now, go ahead.  Make yer fun.  Cause lord knows those brats of mine did.  Sure, they were helpful with their advice AFTER I had a second degree burn on my foot.

“the Juice, are you alright?”  Barbara asked, concerned.
A group of kids had form a circle around where the Juice was holdin’ his foot, cryin’.  “No, the Juice is not alright.  I’ve nearly burned my foot off.  That brake sure gets hot!”
“Yea, ya shouldn’t ride those scooters without shoes on.” said the neighborhood blond doofus through a wad of gum the size of his rag tag 4 year old younger sister’s head.
“Gee…thanks, for the heads up, Freddie.” The Juice said, trying to get up.  “Damn, that’s hurts.”  The sole of the Juice’s foot continued to swell beyond the boundaries of what a normal foot should swell to.
“Ha!  Ha!”  the neighborhood kids, includin’ the Juice’s, laughed.  “Look at yer foot.”  The little bastards pointed.  “It’s bigger than yer head almost.”
“Go ahead laugh,” the Juice hobbled to his house.  “Yer day’s comin’.  And when it does, believe you me the Juice’ll be right up in yer grill laughin’ harder then a blind man high on laughin’ gas.”
“Ha!  Ha!”  They continued to point and laughed.  “Stupid the Juice!  Ha!  Ha!”

What's the moral of this tale? Just 'cause yer family don't mean if ya do something stupid, they ain't gonna laugh in yer face! Not what you expect the moral to be, huh???? C'mon! You know you wanna read more...

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Didja here the one about the toddler and the condom? Dad had gone out to get coffee and breakfast. Mom was helping their 4-year-old son on the toilet. Their 9-year-old daughter was playing Nintendo.
That was how the morning of Jan. 3 played out for the Wolfe family of Massachusetts inside Room 142 of the Homewood Suites in Mount Laurel, Burlington County. Soon, the Wolfes would pack up and finish their long drive home from Florida.
But, wait: The couple's 22-month-old son was supposed to be on the hotel's pull-out sofa, watching TV. Instead, according to a federal lawsuit filed this week in New Jersey, the toddler was choking on a used condom that had been left in their room before they checked in.
When Amy Wolfe heard her youngest child chewing and choking on the condom, she rushed over to help him and retrieved it from his mouth, but according to the lawsuit, the boy already had "ingested the contents."...

Now, I can’t claim credit here. I can’t claim credit for finding this story. I heard it being discussed on the radio the other day and had to look it up myself. But, let’s face don’t come here for breaking news. You come here for the funny. At least in theory, you come here for the funny. Unfortunately, there ain’t much funny about this story. It kinda gives me the willies. And by the willies, I mean it makes my stomach turn. It makes my stomach turn so fucking much that I can’t even read the whole article.

But, for you, I’ll soldier on.

don’t be fooled. not good eats

Put yourself in that mother’s shoes for a moment. Look, I’ve got a hundred kids. I know where this woman’s at when she comes out of the bathroom after wiping that 4 year old’s ass. You see little Johnny choking on something by the couch. You panic a little. And as you make your way over to where the kid is choking you think: “What the fuck is he choking on.” You dig your fingers into that kid’s gullet (and let’s face it, it doesn’t matter if you washed your hands after you wiped that other kid’s ass, once figure out what he’s choking on) and you pull out...a what? Is that a condom?

it’s best to keep your toddlers away from this. dogs too.

Let me ask you? Do you puke on the spot? I probably would.
The worst part of this whole thing is that’s it’s “out there”. I mean it’s OUT THERE. Kinda like seeing your mom and dad fucking “out there”. It’s something you’re never gonna forget. Every time that family looks at that kid, somewhere in the back of their collective minds they’re thinking “ingested the contents”. You can’t get rid of it. No amount of therapy, bleach or high power magnets is going to ever make you forget “ingested the contents”. The day little Johnny gets married, he’ll be having his mother and son dance. Know what the mom’s going to be thinking? “What a lovely time (ingested the contents)! I’m so happy for Johnny (ingested the contents)! I wonder if he really did swallowed the contents of that condom (ingested the contents). Maybe he didn’t? It’s possible. Oh, Christ! Where are my pills!”

please lord. let me make it through this dance without thinking about "ingested the contents". fuck! i thought about it!

C’mon! Don’t get an attitude with me! You know I’m right. They might as well either put that kid up for adoption and move on the best they can or all get full frontal lobotomies. Because it’s always going to be “out there”.

The lawsuit claims the family has suffered “severe mental anguish”. You know what? I believe them. For the love of the Christ...I’m suffering severe mental anguish just reading about it. I wonder if they’d consider including me in their lawsuit. Cause I know there’s no way I’m gonna stop thinking about “ingested the contents” any time soon...
C'mon! You know you wanna

Monday, February 16, 2009

Emails 2/16

Surprisingly enough, with only being “live” for less than two months, we’ve received a number of emails from some folks out there in the internetsland. Surprisingly coherent emails, I might add. But, don’t let me try and convince you, see for yourself...
Cameron from Tucson writes in:

Hey, Jesse. The other day I read your The Glory of... from the archives. I remember reading your The Glory of...from your Juice sayeth site. You’re not really considering bringing back that are you? Don’t you think it’s a bit sexist? Aren’t there enough sites out there that objectify women? I think you should leave it in the past.
Thanks for writing in, Cameron. I appreciate your input. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but happy to say, we’ll be returning to “The Glory of...” Now before you delete our bookmark, let me explain. I admit in the past, I was a bit sexist with “The Glory of…’  Believe you me, you’re not the only one who accused me of objectifying women.  Whew...did I get a ton of emails about it.

so true. so fucking true...

But, those were the old days. It’s a new beginning here at Truth is Truth. That being said, I’m going to open up “The Glory of…” to all things I appreciate.  Taking a cue from my article about Funnel cake, I’m going to use “The Glory of…” banner to talk up all things great in life. Anything and everything. Which, probably to your chagrin, will also include women.
Look at it this way.  I don’t write as the Juice anymore. And the Juice was, well, angry. To say the least. But me? Not so much. I’m not here to objectify, rather appreciate. Appreciate the beauty in all things. A sunset. A 2010 Shelby Cobra. Cool Whip. And even a woman the likes of Belinda Carlisle (that’s what they call in the biz, foreshadowing). So, Cameron, I hope you’ll stick with us. Even if I might occasionally go on about a hot piece of arse...
Onward and upward.

Kathy from Ft. Myers threw us a line:
Like ur blog and all. But, Why so long to get to ur point?  Why so many parts?

Well, Kathy. It’s like this...I’ve just got a lot to say. It’s not even that I’ve got a lot to say. I just tend to ramble. See, I like to keep my articles at around 750 words. Studies show that folks out in internetsland have a horribly small attention span. And if anything gets to wordy, their minds tend to bleed out their ears. Which, is bad.

Perfect example. In writing my article about Bernie Madoff and Ponzie schemes, I realized 3/4 of the way through I was at a mind bursting 800 words and hadn’t written a single word explaining what a Ponzi scheme was. I went back and added a short tap dance explaining it. That threw the article into an internets shattering 1100 words! I want people to read the shit, not just click through. So, I took out the explanation and left the article at 800+ words.

i don’t know. it just seemed to fit here...

But, now I have all the genius of explaining exactly how a Ponzi scheme works. You see my dilemma? What am I supposed to do with those 300 odd words explaining how the scheme works? Usually, it would mean 2 parts. But, I have something special planned for those 300 words. So, stay tuned.

Now you can see why these articles go two or three (mostly three) parts long. I’ve got to keep it short and sweet for all the idiots out there (not you Kathy). And keeping it short and sweet makes these articles drag out. Just look at where we’re at with Adventures in Movie Theater Going. Someday I’ll get to part 3. Someday.

So there you have it. Just some of the inner workings here at Truth is Truth. Keep those emails coming. Except for you fucking spammers. God! I hate spam!!!
C'mon! You know you wanna

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Weekend Special: Powerball

yea. yea. yea. i know. the weekend special is a bit late this weekend. it's Sunday night for the love of the Christ! what can i tell you? i'm a lazy, lazy man. but, pointing out my deficiencies isn't going to get this article up yesterday, now is it? i don't think so. so, let's put the past behind us, and laugh our collective arses off with this classic from the archives about how ungood it is to win the powerball...

by the Juice
originally published 10/05

I gotta tell ya, the Juice pities the poor bastard who wins the $320 million Powerball. Yea, you read that right. You can shove your peepers back into your noggin. I’ll give you a second to do so.

Now, on the surface that seems like a pretty fucking stupid statement. Even comin’ from the Juice, right? The Juice ain’t known for his high IQ, or high EQ for that matter. But, hear me out. The Powerball is at somethin’ like 6 billion dollars these days. Is that really necessary? Now the Juice don’t play the lottery. Ever. It’s a waste of time and money. Think about it. You got better odds of gettin' clubbed by a gang of blood thirsty, vengeful baby seals, then winnin’ the lottery. You’ve got better odds of bein’ abducted by aliens and bein’ used by said aliens for their weird sexual experiments, then winnin’ the lottery. Hell, you’ve got better odds of bein’ invited to one of the “blow job” parties Oprah’s always goin’ on about, then winnin’ the lottery. But, hey, don’t let the Juice stop ya. You just keep on wastin’ your money. And, hey, since you’re wastin’ your money, why not send that cash to a good cause? Like the Juice, for instance. Now, that gives me an idear. Perhaps the Juice should start his own lottery. I mean, the second you morons hear the word “lottery”, your wallets get all juicy.

Besides, did ya ever once really consider what would happen if ya really won all that money? Yea, I know. You’d do this, you’d buy that. You’d fuck her over there, then you’d fuck that one over here. You’d give so much for mommy to go away. You’d buy your brother 17 cars, but that’s it! No more after that! You’d even buy your neighbor a “happy ending.” But what happens after you spend all that dough? Or even half the dough? There’s only so many houses you can buy. Only so many cars you can trash. There’s a psychological difference between “earnin’” your money over time and have a safe drop on your head. And believe you me, there ain’t no way on the Christ’s blue planet that you’re psychologically ready for a windfall like that. What happens when everythin loses it’s meanin'? You know , like when you repeat a word too many times. Try it. Pick a word, any word, and keep on repeatin’ it. Try “vagina”. Repeat that several hundred times. It loses it meanin’ after awhile (or makes ya want to bang something).

Think the Juice has lost his marbles? Probably. One too many meat tenderizers to the ol noggin. But the Juice maintains that people don’t know what to do when they win all that cash. See for yourself: Check this out and this one. Then tell the Juice he’s K razy.

See, your puny mind can’t comprehend the repercussions of winnin’ 320 million dollars. For the rest of your days, you’ll be inundated with people beggin’ you for money. It’s like a PBS telethon all day, every day. And I ain’t talkin’ just about your insane relatives, either. Although, there’s no doubt they’ll be mind fuckin’ ya til ya die. No. I’m talkin’ about every charity and charity cases under the sun. Mailin’ ya letters, emailin’ ya, callin' all hours of the night, knockin’ at your door. Think the Juice is kiddin’? I ain’t. And that’s just the beggars. I won’t even mention the slightly less desirable elements. Actually, I will mention them: Thieves, scam artist and grifters. I know. I know what you’re thinkin’. You’re thinkin’: “Whoa! Whoa! What’s that you say, the Juice? Thieves, scam artist and grifters? Oh my! Who said anything about thieves, scam artist and grifters? I thought my life would be roses and Tastykakes after I won the lottery!” You think that ‘cause you watch entirely too much TV. For the love of the Christ turn off the friggin TV for once. Believe you me, it’ll still be there tomorrow.

Image hosted by

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Just like that fuckin’ Genie said…Be careful what you wish for, it may come true! Real spooky, huh? I always hated the “morals” of those stupid stories. So dang preachy. Can’t they just leave us folk alone? Anyway…I’m outta here. I got 50 bucks worth of Powerball tickets to buy.

C'mon! You know you wanna

Thursday, February 12, 2009

It's not called a "Potsie" scheme.

How about that Bernie Madoff, huh? Wow! Where to begin. Where to begin. Let me tell you something, this cat is one lucky dude.  Why? Because this “story” of him stealing BILLIONS of dollars is breaking at the best possible time for him. We’ve got the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression, a new president and a whole helluva lot of bickering going on how the government is going to stave off said economic crisis.  Then there’s that whole Jessica Simpson weight thing. about getting wayyy too much attention.

The way I see it, Madoff should thank his lucky stars. Cause I’ll tell you, his story isn’t getting nearly the press it should, considering the magnitude and the ramifications of it.  This guy screwed so many people so hard, there’s really nothing funny about it. But, if you’re like me, and I know that you aren’t, you’re too busy following Congress fucking up this stimulus package to even spare a second on any other news. Unless, of course, you’re one of the THOUSANDS of people who were ripped off by Madoff, this story probably isn’t even a blip on your radar.  So, let me break this shit down for you...

Bernie Madoff is the dude with the royally screwing Ponzi scheme.  I know.  I know.  I know what you’re thinking.  You’re thinking:  “Ponzi Scheme?  What the fuck is a Ponzi scheme anyway?  Wasn’t he the singing dork from Happy Days?”  Let me tell you something, if that’s what you’re thinking you must be reading my mind.  Cause it’s eerily similar to what's been going through my cerebral cortex.  Seriously, what the fuck is a Ponzi scheme?  Sure, everyone knows it’s a pyramid scheme.  Where the creep at the top gets all the money, while everyone underneath ends up getting fucked.  But, how’s that different than everyday life?

no, he’s not “Ponzi” Weber, doofus!

Because I care about the product here at Truth is Truth, I did a little research. Just a little, because believe you me, I’m not much into research.  Who wants to be bothered with all those facts? As it turns out, though, a Ponzi scheme is named after another shyster named Tony Ponzi.  Apparently, this guy took the pyramid scheme to a new level.  He screwed so many people that “they” coined the term after him.  But, none of this explains what the hell a Ponzi/pyramind scheme really is. And if I take the time to explain it here, this article’s going to end up running six or seven parts. And do we really want that right now??? Take it from me, a Ponzi scheme is a real fuck-fest. And not the good kind with lots of sexy hookers, either. of right now, Madoff has the distinct honor of running the largest investment fraud, ie Ponzi Scheme, by a single person. Nice, huh? I say “as of right now”, because there’s no way on god’s blue marble this cat did this work on his own. The folks running the investigation of Madoff believe this scheme has been going on since the 70’s! No way this guy did it all himself. Someone else was involved. He’s covering. Who, though? His kids?

But, wait. I’m getting a little ahead of myself here. The guy stole some money, right? What’s the big deal, right? The government just tossed 350 billion at some banks last year. And is getting ready to throw some more to those fine institutions. What’s the big deal? I’ll tell you. It’s estimated that he’s stolen 50 BILLION DOLLARS. This guy stole from EVERYONE! Not only did he steal from us “ordinary” folk (not me pray tell. i don’t have two wooden nickels to my name), but he stole from the famous, too. Madoff even stole from his fucking lawyer! Nothing was off limits to this guy! Charities? Oh, he stole from them too! He stole from the very charities that he sat on Boards.

he’s the reason why i ain’t got no money. click the pic to read why

And they kept on stealing! It’s coming out now, that his wife yanked 15 million dollars out of her accounts the weeks leading up to his arrest. 15 million dollars. Oh, and let’s not forget about the million dollars worth of jewelry she was mailing out to relatives after their assets were frozen. Madoff even had 173 million dollars worth of checks made out that were to be sent to family and friends. Thankfully, the checks were found before they were sent. But, still. I ask. Who the fuck do these people think they are?
Now, it’s bad enough that he stole all that money. But someone killed themselves over this.  One of his clients, a French dude that I don’t want to dis-respect fucking up his name, lost over a billion dollars investing with Madoff.  Over a billion dollars!!! I get pissed when I leave 20 bucks in my pants pocket. Can you imagine having a billion dollars stolen from you???

But the part that really sticks in my crawl??? Madoff is currently under house arrest. Why? Because it was a “white collar” crime? Does that make it ok? Someone killed himself because of this clown. And he gets house arrest? He stole from charities, and this cat gets to sleep in the comfort of his own bed? There something seriously wrong with this situation. Until we start going after clowns like Madoff, Wall Street banks and bankers are going to keep on ripping us all off.

But, hey, I hear Jessica Simpson lost all that weight she put on 5 days ago...
C'mon! You know you wanna

Monday, February 9, 2009

Food! Glorious food!

I had a whole different article scheduled for today.  It was a blazing piece about Madoff and Ponzi schemes.  But, as I’m sitting in the cafĂ© at work today, inspiration struck me like a lightening bolt.  Ok.  Well, not really.  Truth be told, I wasn’t quite finished the Ponzi scheme article.  I’d be done by the time I wanted it done.  But, I just wasn't feeling it. You know? However, I was sort of inspired by some tasty treats over the last few days.  It just didn’t hit me like lightening.  I was being dramatic.  What do you want from me?  I’m trying to sell newspapers here. 
Anyway, during my mid-mid-afternoon break at work today, I partook in probably one of the best crumb cakes ever.  Whereas I was being a bit dramatic earlier, I ain’t now.  I’m serious as the day is long.  It was the best crumb cake ever.  And it wasn’t a fluke, either.  No.  You can purchase this little slice of heaven at your local Wawa.  Yea.  For real.  No shit!
I know.  I know.  I know what you’re thinking.  You’re thinking:  What is so great about this crumb cake that you have to pre-empt a very informative article about Ponzi schemes?  Well, let me learn you all about it.  I got this crumb cake for the first time a few weeks ago on a lark.  Wawa has all sorts of delectable naughties on display.  I’m usually pretty good about avoiding that donut case.  But, this time, something caught my eye.  A 4 x 4 square of powdery, crumby delight.  I ignored it the best I could, but it was flaunting it’s deliciousness like a hooker with a black push up bra that’s a size to small.  You know what I’m talking about.  The kind of bra that pushes their boobs all out there in your face and makes you want to touch…uhhh.  Well, never mind.

let me tell you, it’s not even close to what Wawa sells

I bought my sandwich that fateful day, successfully avoided that confectionary temptation and left Wawa.  I’m halfway to my car when it's siren song hits me.  The crumb cake, not the hooker.  What do i do? I head right back into that store and buy the crumb cake.  Yea.  That’s right.  I went back into Wawa and bought that crumb cake like the pathetic “John” I am.  And it was worth every penny!  So, long story short here, next time you’re in a Wawa do yourself, Wawa, and the economy a favor.  Buy one of those crumb cakes.
And speaking of donuts, over the weekend I had probably one of the greatest donuts ever.  Oh yea.  These were donuts that the big guy upstairs eats.  He doesn’t waste his time with Dunkin’.  Oh no.  He chows down on these globs o’ lard!  So, how did a mere mortal such as myself come to partake in god’s donuts?  Well, for months my brother, a connoisseur of all things delicious, was ranting and raving about these donuts he got from Shoprite.  Using all sorts of unnecessary adjectives and superlatives (must run in the family).  He was hyping the shit out of these things.  Finally after months of yaking, the big man finally thinks of someone other than himself, and brings the donuts over.  Believe you me, they were better than my brother, the King of Eats, could ever describe. 

clearly this is NOT one of god’s dounts. he wouldn’t even make YOU eat it!

So what was so great about these donuts? Let me tell you, they were short on donut and long on cream.  I realize after listening to those words in my head, that didn’t come out quite right. But, you get the point. They were all goodness where goodness counts. So, long story short, next time you’re in Shoprite do yourself, Shoprite and the economy a favor.  Buy a baker’s dozen of those donuts
And speaking of donuts, I read a very depressing article today over at Yahoo.  Turns out Moody’s Investment service is predicting Krispy Kreme to go out of business in 2009.  WTF!!!  It’s bad enough there isn’t a Krispy Kreme within three hundred miles of my house.  When a few short years ago, there used to be three.  Now the whole company may go belly up?  Again, I ask WTF!!!  Stupid upper management!!!  Expanding the company too fast.  If there’s ever a time when as a country we’re gonna need comfort foods, it’s now!  Now is not the time for Krispy Kreme to go out of business.  In fact, never is a time for them to go out of business.

stupid krispy kreme going out of business. wasting all that delicious goodness

Stupid Krispy Kreme. I pray to the Christ someone has got their secret donut recipe and plans to do something for the greater good with it after they close.

PS - Don't fret. I'll have the Ponzi scheme article all ready for you by Friday. You'll just have to keep your panties bunch-free until then.
C'mon! You know you wanna

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Weekend Special: Body Removed from Sierra Glacier

you could say this post was the precursor to Why Banks Suck Pt III: The commercial. just like everything else, i have no idea where the madness behind the below post came from, but just like everything else, it made me laugh...

by the Juice
originally published 11/2005

Body removed from Sierra glacier after decades encased in ice

Hol-lee shit! Have you seen this article? I can’t believe it! It’s…it’s….it’s…Captain Fuckin’ America!

I’m sure all your non – superhero fans don’t have idea one what the Juice is goin’ on about. I’m equally as sure that you don’t give shit one. If that be the case, you can always click here (if I were you, I’d make sure the sound volume was down before clickin’ that link. But, thank the maker, I ain’t you. So do whatever you please.)

Gettin’ back to Captain America…Cap’n was originally a WWII soldier known as Steve Rodgers. Steve was a scrawny lil piece of crap. Ya know, kinda like that douche bag who used to get the sand kick at him in those old Greg Atlas ads in the back of comic books. According to legend, the government gave Steve Rodgers a shot of “super-soldier” serum. More than likely that “super-soldier” serum was a placebo. The government was probably just fuckin’ with Steve, just to get him out of the service, the worthless piece of shit. Long story short, Steve Rodgers/Captain America gets the super-soldier shot, becomes a bad mother fucker, and starts kick ass. Believe you me, he wasn’t takin’ any names. Just kickin’ ass.

The good Captain was thought to have “died” takin’ down those friggin’ Nazi’s on some crazy ass mission. His sidekick, Bucky, did die, though. I’ll tell ya, ya couldn’t pay me enough to be a sidekick. All the pain, none of the glory. Ya either die, or ya gotta wear those lil Robin pants. And how gay is that (my apologies to my homosexual readers)?

Lucky for us, Captain America didn’t die. He was just frozen in a block of ice, which conveniently didn’t kill him. One day the Captain America ice cube comes floatin' ashore. The Avengers thaw him out and Waaa laaa! Fresh Captain America!

Now what does this comic book history lesson have anything to do with the way French women shave their backs? I’ll tell ya. I’d be willin’ to wager dollars to donuts, that what those scienticians are workin' on right now to unfreeze that WWII serviceman in the above article. Not for science of history or anything. Shit. WWII wasn’t that long ago. There’s still some soldiers around to tell them what the war was like. No. These scienticians are prayin’ to the Christ that once they thaw this guy out, he’s gonna be Captain America.

What's the matter with these scienticians? First it's clonin' dinosaurs, then it's tryin' to bring frozen soldiers back to life. Sheesh! Once they get Captain America up and runnin' again, what do they think he’s gonna do? Solve all our problems? Is the newly thawed Cap’n gonna be like: “Got bank robbers? No problem! Cap’n America will take care of that!” Or: “Got drug dealers? No problem! Cap’n America will take care of that!” Or: “Got money launderin’ politicians? Uhhhh…I guess Cap’n America can take care of that.” Or: “Got doctors performin’ abortions? Hmmmmmm…Cap’n America’s not real sure about that one.” Or: “Got soldiers dyin’ in Iraq? !?!?!?!? What the hell do ya want Cap’n America to do? What ever happened to the mad scienticians who wanted to take over the world? Whatever happened to the bad guys who wanted to destroy a city unless we paid them 2 million dollars? Where’s the Red Skull? I can’t stand this ambiguity.”

The Juice kinda pictures it goin down like this:

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What? You think I got anything to say after that?
C'mon! You know you wanna

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Adventures in Movie Theater Going. Pt II

You can catch up here

There’s something weird about watching something ungood happen.  It’s a sort of out of body experience. It’s like the camera angle switches from your eyes, to right above your head. At least that’s what it felt like, as I scooped Jericho’s unmoving form off the theater floor. 

Expecting a bloody mess, I quickly flipped him over and scanned him.  Except for a red knot between his eye, he looked ok. He wasn’t making a sound, though.  In fact, he was pretty lifeless in my arms. I propped him up on my leg, brushed the hair off his face and tried talking to him. Nothing. The red knot on his head was clearly getting bigger, though. And at this point, I’m starting to panic.

The human mind, as opposed to the mind of a chinchilla is an amazing thing. The movie was incredibly loud. But, all I heard was silence. Silence from the contorted form in my arms. Then, as if the Big Guy upstairs sent down a bolt of lightening, Jericho let out an ear piercing scream.

sorta like this, only this kid needs a smackin’! carryin’ on like that!

Because I’m admittedly a bit dim-witted, the realization is slowly dawning on me. I’m in a bit of a pickle.  Do I take the kids and leave the theater?  Do I wait and see how Jericho pans out?  But, as I was consoling him, the knot between his eyes was more of a lump.  Yea...even in the dark I could tell it wasn’t good.

“Trixie!” I called out through gritted teeth to my oldest daughter.

“What?” She replied, clearly annoyed.

“I’m gonna take Jericho out to the lobby. You stay here with Barbara and Jethro. Ok?”

No answer.

“Trixie!” I said much louder this time.

“What???” She answered still watching the movie.

“Trixie! I’m gonna take....”

“Ok! Ok! Take him outside. Fine!” She interrupted me.

Twelve year olds!!!!

Of course the second I get up, Barbara and Jethro start wigging out.

 “You’re leaving?”  they cried together.
“No! I am not leaving you.”  I insisted, Jericho still screaming in my arms. “I’m only taking Jericho to the lobby to see if he’s alright.  Just watch the movie.  I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“But, we want to come with you!” Barbara pleaded.

“Please, Daddy!” Jethro chimed in.

God damn! They’re killing me here. “Look.” I said, getting down on one knee so I was on their level. “I’ll be right back. I just want to get some ice for Jericho’s head. I want to make sure he’s ok. You’ll be fine. Trixie’s here. Stay with her. I’ll be right back.”

“Dad! Don’t leave us.” They continued to plead.

sorta like this, only Santa wasn’t there. i'm tellin' ya, Santa's evil!

“I am NOT leaving either of you!” I said through gritted teeth. This was getting ridiculous! I can’t tell you how many times I had to take one of them to the bathroom, during a movie, and left the others with Trixie with no problems. But, now that Jericho’s growing another head, they’ve got issues?!?!? “I am NOT leaving ANY OF YOU!!! I’ll be back in a few minutes! Ok?!?!”

“Ok.” They begrudgingly accepted their fate.

“Ok. I’ll be right back.” I turned down the row.

“Dad???” Jethro called out.

I almost didn’t turn around. I took a deep breath. Keep in mind Jericho’s still screaming his lungs out here. “What????” I called back, glancing over my shoulder.

“Get more popcorn.”

Onto part III
C'mon! You know you wanna

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Friday Teaser: Adventures in Movie Theater Going Pt II

Whet your Friday appetite with...this:

“I am NOT leaving either of you!” I said through gritted teeth. This was getting ridiculous! I can’t tell you how many times I had to take one of them to the bathroom, during a movie, and left the others with Trixie with no problems. But, now that Jericho’s growing another head, they’ve got issues?!?!? “I am NOT leaving ANY OF YOU!!! I’ll be back in a few minutes! Ok?!?!”
C'mon! You know you wanna

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Why Banks Suck Pt III: The commercial.

Yea, yea, yea. I know it's late. Go complain to your local senator/congressman. See if I care!

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C'mon! You know you wanna

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Tuesday Teaser: Why Banks Suck Part III: The Commercial.

C'mon! You know you wanna