HO-LEE-SHIT!

I don't believe this! The Mighty Bartender got his blogspotted permalinks working! Here's the quote from a recent e-mail:

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I finally have my permalinks straightened out. I guess you have to have the
"Post Title" option set to yes in order for it to work.

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Joey!  Yeah, YOU, 18th birthday boy with the BS'd links. Are you paying attention?

(and let this be the last time I have to say: Oct 8 if PAB, CTRL+F keyword "AH-NOLD")

Today he is a man. Go give him one last patronizing pat on the head before the little whelp gets too big for his britches.

LADIES: SOUND OFF LIKE YA GOT A PAIR

Sgt. Mom says something I've believed for years. If a guy is making unwelcome sexual comments, stop being ladylike and just crush his groin (figuratively speaking). He'll stop:

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Is some guy saying something crude, offensive and demeaning to you? Nine out of ten, the offensive jerk has no clue, and if he does, he is a bully, and the way to stand up to either version is to stand up straight, step up toe to toe, take off the genteel white gloves, squash down all your instinctive ladylike inhibitions…. And be just as crude, offensive and nasty in response. Don’t cry, don’t whine, just go straight for the jugular, or other vulnerable area, and think of it as raising his consciousness, or establishing a good working understanding; that is, he will not grievously offend again, and if he does, you guarantee to serve up his balls on a silver plate, tastefully ornamented with a spring of parsley and perhaps a small tomato carved into the shape of a rose.

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[applause, whistles, cheers]

You go, girl!

MICHAEL MOORE IS STUPID, BUT YOU ALREADY KNEW THAT

PhotoDude has the scoop, and says it so well, that I can't really add to it. I can only share:

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Jeff Jarvis notes that Michael Moore was on the Today show this morning, saying, “‘There is no terrorist threat.’ Lester Holt, shocked, says is there not evidence of a terrorist threat just two miles away? Moore says, ‘How many people died because of terrorism last year? None.’”

Well, let’s check the list. I guess Australians are not people (August, 2002, 202 dead). Kenyans are not people (Nov., 2002, 16 dead). Saudis are not people (May, 2003, 34 dead). Moroccans are not people (May, 2003, 24 dead). Indonesians are not people (August, 2003, 12 dead).

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He just gets more deliciously snarky from there, so go take a peek.

SCHOOL DAYS

I was lucky in my college days. I was a Finance major, and a good portion of my profs were sensible, conservative, capitalist types, or at least not hideous leftist troll-preachers. There were a few exceptions, and having discovered Ayn Rand in my Sophomore year, I burned a lot of lot of good class time giving these lefty-loonies the old what-for and getting up on my laissez-faire soapbox.

None of them ever took it out on my grades, though. Ever. Fact is, they were absolutely tickled pink just to have a student with an active mind in their class who did something besides fall asleep or ask "is this gonna be on the test?"

J, over at Quibbles & Bits, had it a little rougher. He had his share of leftyvangelist profs, and a lot of them were not so tolerant as my crowd. But he did have one old-school-socialist teacher that was different:

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Dr. Ball was a leftist extraordinaire. He was a devout socialist, a Reagan hater, and a firm believer in the primacy of the State and the need for it to be run by the right people. But Ball was different – he was fair. He didn’t expect complicit agreement. He didn’t demand fawning students. And he didn’t punish you for being not being a socialist.

Dr. Ball was one of the few professors I ever argued with, and argued at the top of my lungs. I was a young, hotheaded neo-libertarian, he an old school socialist, and we argued every class. He would pontificate on the need for this or that, or the Pure Evil of Reagan, and my hand would shoot up, arguments loaded and at the ready.

Sometimes the arguments spanned philosophical aspects of politics.

Sometimes we argued the finer points or public policy.

Sometimes we just called each other names, when arguments exhausted themselves and tempers still simmered.

We often ended up arguing until the class period expired.

Other students sat slack-jawed and amazed at my temerity, taking on a professor instead of going along to get along. They fully expected my tests to come back with fat red circles for grades. I fully expected my papers to bleed violently, since I didn’t temper my arguments on the page, either. But Dr. Ball was different.

My papers came back with honest grades. The points ticked off were for legitimately bad answers, such as a genuine misunderstanding of the facts surrounding a historic moment in the annals of the US Government. When I argued in essays from a perspective that the government had grossly overstepped its defined bounds, he wrote a nice little sidebar telling me that while he had not drawn the same conclusions, he was pleased with the organization of my arguments and the presentation, and gave me an A.

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If you've ever had a Dr. Ball of your own, you owe it to yourself to read the whole thing.

MEET YOUR MAKER

Quibbles & Bits continues his drink-alertful series on meetings with God. This time Al Gore gets put through the wringer:

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“You surprised me,” Al said. “Would you like a chocolate? Momma always said life is like a box of chocolates.”

“I know, Al,” the genial man replied. “And thank you, but no. I’ve had plenty of chocolate in my time, Al.”

“Well, sir, you seem to know who I am. Who might you be?”

“You don’t know?”

“No, sir, I don’t,” Al drawled in his unique way.

“Al, I’m your maker.”

“Guiseppe?” Al asked, “Is that you?”

“No, no, Al. Wrong maker. I’m God.”

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Go on and find out why Al (surprise, surprise) doesn't make it into Heaven & what delights His Infernal Majesty has in store for ol' Chad-boy.

DING-DANG-DIDDLY-DARN COMMENT SPAMMERS

I haven't had any spam placed directly in my comments yet (knock on wood), but I know other bloggers have. Fortunately, Evil Pundit has a little antidote available at his place. MT users especially might want to take a look.

I AM EVIL, HEAR ME ROAR

Ever notice that, in a lot of movies, the bad guy is a lot more interesting as a character than the good guy? No waffling, no internal struggles, just quick, effective decision-making. Usually involving shooting minions for no particular reason.

Well, if you're looking to become both decisive and evil, the Emperor points out a hilarious 15-part training course, which includes such tips as:

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Work on your maniacal laugh. It is a bit of a cliche now, and not, strictly speaking, essential, but is still useful. Andropov never laughed, but then he didn't last very long did he? The more tools you have the better off you'll be. The laugh also lets people know you have a sense of humour and helps at both putting your allies at ease and scaring your enemies.

Don't forget to fly into a frenzy over innocuous things. Unpredictability is your best friend. The key is to constantly surprise your friends and enemies. Remember: you are BAD.

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Warning: if you are, by nature, incredibly sweet, do not follow the above link.

HEY BARTENDER

Mike, I'm still getting no love from Hotmail. I have some comments on your excellent idea, but I don't want to post them publicly at this stage. Any chance you could grab yourself a non-Hotmail e-mail addy that I could try mailing to?

This is REALLY frustrating. I mean, if you can't talk to your bartender, what's the point of getting drunk?

Bonus drink if Matt explains the point in the comments.

TODAY'S LOVE NOTE

(Introduction)

It's not being in love that makes me happy, it's being in love with YOU that makes me happy.

TODAY’S GRAFFITI CURRENCY



From "Counterfeiting For Dummies", p. 137:

"When counterfeiting coinage, resist the temptation to hand-draw, and keep in mind that paper is NOT an appropriate medium for this endeavor."

SNAKES

(A FILTHY LIE)

Via Heather, I became aware of this story. Seemed innocent enough. A man gets bitten by a snake at a Texas Wal-Mart. No big deal, right? But then I noticed that the man's name was Hatchett, which sounds suspiciously like a hobo-murdering tool, so I wondered if it could be an alias for Evil Glenn. I called an inside source and obtained the audio tape from store security. Here's the transcript:

Evil Glenn: Let's see. Need some new shoes... oooooh, these pretty pink open-toed sandals look fabulous! Wonder if they come in a size 10?

Snake: Pssst! Glenn!

Evil Glenn: What the...? A talking snake? Oh, you must be Satan. Hey, sorry about Black Mass the other night. Those candles looked black when I grabbed them. How was I supposed to know they were blueberry-cobbler-scented votives? Even so, I still thought they were plenty evil for a Tuesday night service and…

Snake: Shut up, will ya? I'm not Satan. I'm just a normal talking snake, like you'd find anywhere in Texas.

Evil Glenn: Kinda weird, but ok. What do you want?

Snake: Some of the other snakes asked me to talk to you about that tattoo on your left hand.

Evil Glenn: The one with the two penguins going at it that says "penguinperv.com"?

Snake: Oops. Sorry. I meant your right hand. Being limbless, I get those confused a lot.

Evil Glenn: Oh, you mean the one that shows a penguin using a snake for a sex toy?

Snake: Yeah, that one.

Evil Glenn: Gotta spice things up somehow. Not my fault snakes are so phallic.

Snake: I hear that a lot. But the point is that the members of the Slitherers Anti-Defamation League are really up in arms about this, figuratively speaking, and we think you should get it removed.

Evil Glenn: Look, scale-face, it's my life, my body, and still a free country. I can do whatever the hell I want.

Snake: Don't mess with me, Puppy Blender. I've got 2-inch fangs & more venom than Kate with PMS.

Evil Glenn: Whatever. Go take a hike. Oh. I forgot. You don't have any feet. Heh. Indeed.

Snake: Right! That does it! I'll just chew your damn hand off you miserable, subhuman scumbag!

Evil Glenn: Lawy...

Snake: [BITE! BITE! BITE!]

Evil Glenn: OW! My precious fleshy artwork! Die snake!

[STOMP! STOMP!]

Evil Glenn: Oh geez! My hand's swelling up like Ted Kennedy's head. Hey! You! The Wal-Mart employee in the blue vest! Can I get a snake-bite kit over here?

Wal-Martian: Dude. Like, I'm on break right now.

Evil Glenn: AHHHHH! The pain! I'm dying!

Wal-Martian: Dude! I'm Game-Boying here. Almost finished with level 267 of Tetris. Just chill.

Evil Glenn: Strength... failing... Must... blend... puppy...

Wal-Martian: Dude! Did you, like, just call me a guppy? I am SO not a guppy. As soon as I get off break, I'm kicking your ass.

Evil Glenn: help... dying... puppy... Rosebud... [slumps to floor]

Wal-Martian: Crap! The screen filled up. Game over, man. So, how may I help you?

Evil Glenn: *twitch*

Wal-Martian: Dude! You're like, really messed up & shit. Let me phone my supervisor... Mr. Skinner? Yeah. Looks like we got another snake bit victim in aisle 3... Alive? I dunno. He's still twitching, so I guess so... Pulse?… Just a sec...

[grabs Evil Glenn's wrist]

Dude! Nice penguin porn!

Sadly, Evil Glenn was taken to the hospital where he made a full recovery. But at least now we know the secret of his tattoo, which will make him that much easier to spot next time he does his naked, drunken, bar-top Robot Dancing.

INSTAPUNDO DELENDA EST!

ALLIANCE ASSIGNMENT

The Alliance is busy trying to dig up more information on Evil Glenn. This time they want to know:

What does Evil Glenn's Tattoo look like & where is it?

Well, I have it on good authority that the blasphemous, arrogant son-of-a-bitch has "Puppy Blender 3:16" tattooed in a circle around his left nipple.

He's SO going to burn in hell.