| |
|
Monday, February 02, 2004
|
|
TODAY’S GRAFFITI
CURRENCY
[Shave That Thing]
Although, generally speaking, Susie prefers her men to be on the high end of the George Clooney hairiness scale, there is, shall we say, a partial exception to the rule.
posted by Harvey at 11:31:38 PM permalink HOME
|
|
F'N MILWAUKEE JOURNAL-SENTINEL
I've always wondered how the hell the gun-grabber crowd can say their
bullshit with a straight face. Thanks to Owen of Boots & Sabers,
I... well, I STILL don't know how they can say it with a straight face,
but he's shown me some of the slickest packaging for sick, twisted lies
that I've ever seen, which was recently published in Wisconsin's paper
of distortion record, the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel. Fortunately, he's
also taken the time to thoroughly debunk their bullshit.
Q: Doesn't the bill have safeguards that would prevent its use to arm criminals?
A: The bill's safeguards would bar only the arming of convicted
felons. Criminals not yet caught could legally hide firearms on their
person. The Violence Policy Center, which backs gun controls, notes
that Texans holding concealed-handgun licenses have been arrested for
thousands of crimes since 1996, including murder.
The first error in their statement is to assume that criminals would
bother to get a concealed carry permit. They are criminals. Why would
they bother? Furthermore, unless you could argue that the criminal
would be less likely to commit their crime without concealed carry,
it's a moot point. The criminal is going to commit his or her crime
regardless of whether they are allowed to carry a weapon or not. The
laws only affect people who actually obey them.
The second error is about Texans with concealed carry committing
crime. The statement is factually accurate. Texans with and without
concealed carry commit hundreds of thousands of crimes. But - and it's
a big but - Texans with a concealed carry permit commit crimes at a
much lower rate than the rest of the population. Here are the stats as of 2000:
Texans who exercise their right to carry firearms are 5.7 times less likely to be arrested for a violent offense.
They are 14 times less likely to be arrested for a non-violent offense.
They are 1.4 times less likely to be arrested for murder.
If anything, the statistics prove that Texans with concealed carry
permits commit fewer crimes. Perhaps they should be mandated to get one.
There's plenty more. It's one of the most beautiful exercises in logic
I've seen in a while. If you support concealed carry (whether you live
in Wisconsin or anywhere else), this is a must-read post. Lots of good
ammo here.
No pun intended ;-).
posted by Harvey at 11:18:20 PM permalink HOME
|
|
I LOVE THIS BAR!
Who says getting drunk ain't educational? The Bartender of Madfish Willie's Cyber Saloon is making us all smart by stealing publishing the Lush's Lexicon, a glossary of boozing terminology that EVERY good drunk should learn. For example:
- Beer bitch
- The person sitting closest to the cooler
or refrigerator at a party whose sole purpose in life is to grab
another beer when yours runs out.
- Beer blinders
- One's
perception when under the influence of alcohol. Often causes
unattractive people to look hot, long distances to look jumpable and
break dancing moves to look easy.
- Beer Pressure
- The tendency to drink what your friends drink.
- Beer queer
- A straight man who will pretend to be gay so as to solicit free drinks from an unsuspecting homosexual.
- Blackout Brigade
- A group of heavy drinkers.
Plenty more where those came from.
posted by Harvey at 11:07:06 PM permalink HOME
|
|
THIS ONE'S DIFFERENT
"Thank you for giving me the
opportunity to speak my mind. I lost my job this past year. When
Clinton was president I was secure and prosperous, but in the last
year, we had to close our operations. We simply could not compete with
foreign labor. This foreign labor worked for low pay under very bad
conditions."
You've read this letter a million times from every whiny liberal that
ever boo-hooed into a "letters to the editor" column in the local
fish-wrapper. So why am I bothering to point it out? Does Graumagus of Frizzen Sparks give it the full-throttle fisking it so richly deserves?
No.
But that's ok. Go and see why. It's maybe 2 minutes.
posted by Harvey at 11:02:09 PM permalink HOME
|
|
BIG STICK LIVES
Jeff of BigStick.US has FINALLY peeled his ass off whatever damp al
fresco cafe stool he's been sitting on for the last 2 weeks, and graced
us with his cranky-Yankee perspective on the Land That Courtesy Forgot. Highlights include, but are not limited to:
You know, France is a country with
a nearly 10% unemployment? They have their own suicide bombers,
anti-semites, gang warfare, half the housing in this country is
substandard, murderers and criminals go free every day, May 1st
BULGARIA is going to have the Euro, French names are on a list of
Saddam's beneficiaries, people kill each other because of their damn
ZIP CODE. It sounds to me like France should 'Shut The [F***] Up' about
America until it can fix all of the shit going on in it's own damn
country.
I can't sit down in a god damn
cafe without someone hearing me speaking english to my friends, asking
me if I'm an American, and then proceeding to tell me how much Bush
sucks. Seriously, assholes, get a life!
and...
This country physically is just
one [f*****] up place. I love the old world style and everything, but
why do all the streets have to smell like garbage? Why is the paint
peeling of the walls in all of my classrooms? Why are there homeless
people under every bridge, around every corner, and in every doorway?
Plus, there's dog shit everywhere!!! Ever heard of the pooper scooper?
Don't miss the part about the Arab barber.
posted by Harvey at 11:00:37 PM permalink HOME
|
|
LIKE FORGETTING TO BUY YOUR LOTTERY TICKET THE DAY YOUR NUMBERS GET PICKED
I was poking through edition #9 of the Best of Me Symphony at Unbillable Hours, and got to LeeAnn's contribution
about her encounter with an annoying (is there any other kind?)
homeless person. Somewhere in the story is the following sentence
describing the homeless broad's voice:
It was like someone had put a helium tank up Fran Drescher's butt and beat her with a scalded cat.
Ya know, it just kills me to
think that LeeAnn's been saying stuff like this for months, and I've
been ignoring it until I finally blogrolled her last month. I deserve such a beating for that.
And not the fun kind.
posted by Harvey at 10:57:17 PM permalink HOME
|
|
NOW THAT'S A GAME!
Mike the Marine gives a yawn to the Super Bowl, and some well-deserved
kudos to a few of those commercials (did anyone else think the
commercials actually offered LESS entertainment than the game for a
change?).
But my favorite part was his musing on a Cubs BoSox series:
can you even imagine the hysteria
surrounding a Cubs-Red Sox Series? You couldn't have pried guys away
from their TVs with horses... tanks... rocket motors... sex.
"Honey - come upstairs... I've got the KY and the rubber sheets ready..."
"Yeah in a minute babe it's the
top of the eighth and the Cubs are up by one might be extra innings ya
never know I'll be along hey can you get me another brew before you go
to bed thanks."
Me, I'd just lay the rubber sheets on the floor in front of the TV.
There are plenty of positions that allow killing two birds with one
stone.
posted by Harvey at 10:41:45 PM permalink HOME
|
|
DANA'S SECRET IDENTITY REVEALED
She's the Queen of Spades:
Day into night she's with me
How sweet is her warm embrace
Safe in the scent of jasmine
So safe in her gold and lace
Mornings I find, she's left me
So cold so alone, but aware
I try to escape, she finds me
Oh run though I may, she's there, there, there, there, there...
Luck is a lady whose smile is as cold as a stone
She'll bring you things, many things you might never have known
But when your die is cast she'll have the final laugh at you
She'll lock you in a duel, where you come out the fool
CHORUS
Beware of the Queen of Spades
Her black widow's curse might find you yet
Beware of a love that you will regret
Her love means only your death
Day into night she's with me
Turn of a card, she's there
The first time is free, you know
But from now on, pay me, me, me, me, me...
CHORUS
(James Young/Dennis DeYoung)
posted by Harvey at 10:39:45 PM permalink HOME
|
|
THE BLENDERNATOR
(A FILTHY LIE)
I don't have any children, yet it was for the future of children everywhere that I joined
the Alliance. I just couldn't stand the thought of a world where the
blogging despot, Glenn Reynolds ruled over everything.
Do you think I'm some sort of tinfoil-hat-wearing crackpot? Are you saying to yourself, "he's only one man. Sure, he's got a popular blog, but does that necessarily make him evil?" Then I ask you: Do you not understand the nature of power to create the insatiable craving for more control? Today Glenn might be only sitting atop the Ecosystem like Sauron's eye above the dark tower of Mordor, but realize, please, that this is not
his final plan. He seeks power beyond cyberspace. His urge to conquest
will not be sated until America herself is a bleak and desolate
wasteland, where hobo bodies litter the streets like old newspapers,
puppies tip at the brink of extinction from overblending, the Robot is
the only dance allowed to be publicly performed, and the maddening
strains of Copacabana fill the air from loudspeakers under every street
lamp. This future I will not countenance. And so, I fight.
Having failed in my every attempt to stop Evil Glenn's mad quest for
power in this when, I decided that the only reasonable course of action
would be to travel to the past to stop Evil Glenn while he was but a
lad, and his crimes against humanity still lay, preventably, in his
future.
But where to obtain a time machine?
I asked the smartest man in the blogosphere, Stephen Den Beste of USS Clueless.
Unfortunately, his fingers had become wedged in his keyboard during a
tragic blogging accident, and he was physically unable to help me with
the construction of the device.
Next I sought the help of Lynn of Reflections in d minor, the smartest woman in the blogosphere.
No joy was to be found there, since she was still in the hospital
recovering from a brutal attack by Pecks, the world's angriest bluebird.
Saddened, but not yet without hope, I appeared at the doorstep of
Alliance member Physics Geek, reasoning that anyone who could brew the
world's tastiest beer must surely have the wisdom to construct a time
machine...
Geek: Come on in, Harv. What can I do for you?
Harv: Well, I have an insane-sounding project I need your help with,
and since you're the smartest non-physically-incapacitated person I
know, I was hoping you could help me.
Geek: No problem. Insanity is my specialty. Whaddya need? Perpetual
motion machine? Faster-than-light spaceship? A viable democratic
presidential candidate?
Harv: Time machine, actually.
Geek: Good. I was hoping you wouldn't ask for that last one. I was only
kidding about it being possible. Come on down to the basement, I've got
one there.
Harv: You have a working time machine?
Geek: Are you serious? Of COURSE I have one. I built it right after
that time Mrs. Geek walked in on my while I was surfing for porn. Saved
me a week of sleeping on the couch, it did. So, what do you need it for?
Harv [following Geek into the basement]: I'm going to go back in time and stop Glenn Reynolds from turning evil.
Geek: Oh... Maybe we should work on that viable democratic presidential candidate instead...
Harv: Don't worry, I have a plan. I just need you to get me to the right year.
Geek: Ok. But be careful. Messing around with events in the past can cause... unintended consequences.
Harv: Yeah, yeah. Butterfly effect, blah, blah, blah. Just get me where... er, when I need to go.
Geek: Ok. Here's the auto-return remote control device. Now, just step into the travel chamber...
There was a blinding flash of light, and a second later I found myself
standing on the front lawn of the Reynolds homestead, where a young,
and at this point merely naughty, Glenn frolicked on the grass with his
puppy...
Naughty Glenn: All right Hobo, now go fetch the stick!... Good boy!...
Hey! Stop licking me! Stop it! How'd you like it if I started licking
you? [lick, lick]...Hmmm... That was tasty! And I feel somewhat
energized... I wonder what would happen if I consumed the whole animal?
He's too big to eat... Maybe if I stuffed him into mommy's blender I
could drink him! Heh. Hmmm. Indeed.
Harv: NOOOOOO! Stop, young Glenn! You mustn't do that!
Naughty Glenn: Huh? Hey! Aren't you Michael Gross, the dad from Family Ties?
Harv: What? No! I'm... uh, I mean yes, yes I am. And as a beloved and
influential father-figure, I command you NOT to blend that puppy.
Naughty Glenn: Well, ok. I'll just play with him in a naively charming and child-like way instead. Thanks for the advice.
Harv: Yeah… uh... no problem… Well, that was easy.
I pressed the button and found myself back in Physics Geek's basement…
Harv [stepping out of time machine]: That was remarkably simple. I
should've done that a LONG time ago. Wait… I did… Heh, time travel is
really confusing. Anyway, thanks for your help, Geek.
Frank G.: Geek? My name's not Geek. It's Frank G. Why did you call me that, Frank H.?
Harv: Frank H.? No, my name is Harv. Why did you call me Frank H.?
Look… It says right here on my driver's license… Frank H. Olson, and…
HUH?... Why the HELL is my name Frank H.?
Frank G.: Du-UH! The same reason ALL men are named Frank plus an
initial. Frank J., the fearsome, despotic overlord (may his name be
praised) of the United States of Frank A., has decreed that all men be
named as such.
Frank H.: This is insane! Let me borrow your computer.
Frank G.: Sure. Over here.
Quickly, I Googled (actually Frankoogled) up Frank J.'s home page. It
had changed a little from the way I remembered it, as it was now titled
"IFAO: Unfair. Unbalanced. Unmedicated. Under my power. Unable to
disobey on fear of death." As my jaw dropped and my eyes bulged, I read
the first few entries with a growing mixture of disbelief and horror:
"I really hate capitalism. Fascism is much better. Mussolini rocked.
Now I will dance the Macarena. HEYYYYY Macarena! Hah. Hrmmm.
Indubitably."
"I just murdered a circus clown. You should have heard him squeal like a pig as the knife went in. Hah. Hrmmm. Indubitably."
"At 10pm tonight, I will go on TV before the entire nation, where you,
my fearful and cowering subjects, will watch, mortified, as I drown a
puppy. Bark bark, gurgle gurgle. Hah. Hrmmm. Indubitably."
Frank H.: Holy Hatless Hannah's Hershey Bar! WHAT HAVE I DONE? Geek… I
mean Frank G…. you've got to send me back in time again! I made a
terrible mistake, messing in God's domain. I HAVE put things back the
way they were!
Frank G.: No problem, the transference chamber's still warm. Just step on in.
Frank H.: Good. First, though, I really think I need a beer to calm my nerves…
Frank G.: Beer? What is this... "beer"... you speak of?
Frank H.: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Quick! Push the button!
Frank G.: Don't you mean "quickly"?
Frank H.: WHAT?
Frank G.: Just because you're in a hurry doesn't mean you can't make time for proper grammar.
Frank H.: PUSH THE F****** BUTTON!
Frank G.: What's the magic word?
Frank H. [a hair's breadth from murder and enunciating between grinding incisors]: Please.
Frank G.: Much better! A polite and grammatically-correct society is a
happy society. Rule #21095 of Frank J.'s Super Happy Lucky Fun Little
Red Book Of How Not To Be Summarily Executed By The Secret Police. Bon
Voyage, Frank H.!
Another blinding flash of light found me back on the front lawn of the
Reynolds homestead just a few short minutes after I'd left the last
time. Naughty (now actually NICE) Glenn was playing with his puppy,
Hobo, in a naively charming and child-like way.
Nice Glenn: Gee, Hobo, you're the bestest puppy ever! I'm sorry I
thought about blending you. From now on, I'm going to be the nicest boy
in the world, and I promise never to mistreat you, or any other helpless
animal ever again! I sure am grateful to Michael Gross for showing me
the error of my ways, and… Hey! Look! There's Michael Gross again! Hi
Mr. Gross! Wow! I sure want to thank you for…URK!
Harv [Grabbing both Glenn and Hobo by the throat and proceeding to the
kitchen without missing a step]: Come with me since I want to live.
Cringing inwardly at what I had to do, hating myself for doing it, yet
knowing it had to be done, I stuffed Hobo into Mrs. Reynolds's Model 690
Oster Blend-o-Matic Deluxe, and pressed "liquefy".
Traumatized Glenn: HOBO! NOOOOOOO! Please don't do this Mr. Gross!
Harv: I lied. I'm NOT Michael Gross. Now shut up, kid, I'm saving the world.
The foul deed completed, I grabbed the bloody pitcher of puppy goo,
stomped on Glenn's left foot, and when he opened his mouth to holler
in pain, I poured the sticky mess down his surprised gullet.
Confused Glenn: Ack! Argh! Oogaoogaooga! Wha… What's happening to me? I
feel… energized. I feel… strong… and… and… HUNGRY FOR
POWER! Heh. Hmmm. Indeed…
Harv: Better test this... Hey Glenn…
Evil Glenn: That's EVIL Glenn to you, peon.
Harv: What's your favorite drink?
Evil Glenn: Blended puppy
Harv: Who's your favorite world leader?
Evil Glenn: Mao
Harv: Who's your deity of choice?
Evil Glenn: Satan
Harv: Favorite dance?
Evil Glenn: Robot
Harv: How do you feel about penguins?
Evil Glenn: Horny
Harv: And if you could punch anybody in the world right now, who would you punch?
Evil Glenn: Why… nobody. I'd just like to hug a fuzzy bunny right now.
Harv: Oh? Then hug THIS!
And I punched him in the face as hard as I could.
Evil Glenn: OW GAWD! You BASTARD! You broke my f****** nose! I'll not rest until I pay you
back for your treachery!… Uh… who are you?
Harv: I'm Frank J. – Come and get me. MUAHAHAHAHA!
Leaving the bleeding, sniveling, puppy-gut-splattered, and now
completely evil Glenn Reynolds to return to the life destiny intended
for him, I pressed the button on the auto-return…
Geek: Gee, Harv, that didn't take long. You just left a couple minutes ago, and…
Harv [grabbing Geek by the shoulders and shaking him]: Quick! Who's the world's funniest blogger?
Geek: Why… YOU are, Harv.
Harv: DAMMIT! This is no time for ass-kissing! Just answer the question!
Geek [looking at the floor and shuffling his feet]: Frank J.
Harv: Good! Let me borrow your computer.
Geek: Sure. Over here.
Harv: www.imao.us… Ah! Here we are… "as funny as drowning puppies
(actually, that is kind of funny; heh heh - bark bark, gurgle
gurgle)."… NOOOOOO!
Geek: Harv. Dude. Relax. He's just kidding. See? Look up here… there's
a new In My World, it's coffee-out-the-nose funny, and he even
mentioned your name at the top of part 2.
Harv: Oh, ok. PHEW! For a minute there, I thought I was stuck in some
hideous alternate reality that resulted from my meddling with the
temporal currents and… what's this? "I think I'm done antagonizing
Glenn Reynolds. I've exposed his terrible secret about his drinking
habits to the world, and now it's time to bury the hatchet." NOOOOOOO!
What has my meddling with forces beyond my understanding done? I've
weakened the resolve of our fearless leader! I am a cursed man! My life
is meaningless. All that I've fought for… in ruins… [breaking into sobs
of despair]
Geek: Relax, Harv. Here, have a beer.
Harv: *sniff * Beer? Beer exists?
Geek [eyeing me warily and taking a cautious step backwards] Yyyeessss.
Here. I just finished brewing this today. I call it God's Nectar Red
Ale.
Harv: [sip] Hmmm… ya know, I think things are gonna be juuuuust fine.
Geek: So, how'd the Evil Glenn thing go? Did you stop him?
Harv: Well, Geekster, it's like this…
I told him the whole story, although I'm not sure how much he believed.
The important thing is that he gave me a six-pack to take home with me.
I've learned the hard way that it is not mortal man's place to tamper
with the greater forces of the universe. And that, while the world may
not be the way we wish it were, it could always be a LOT worse. In an
effort to take a short cut to defeating Evil Glenn, I wound up creating
a universe where Frank J.'s resolve to do what's right is no longer the
strong and eternal rock upon
which the Alliance was founded. But I am not afraid. Our cause is just. No matter what happens, the Alliance WILL prevail!
Besides, Geek still has that time machine. And I have an idea. Mheh.
INSTAPUNDO DELENDA EST!
EPILOGUE:
Friday, May 9th , 2003:
Frank J.: OW GAWD! You BASTARD! You broke my f****** nose! I'll not
rest until I pay you back for your treachery!… Uh… who are you?
Harv: I'm Glenn Reynolds – Come and get me. MUAHAHAHAHA!
posted by Harvey at 9:34:17 PM permalink HOME
|
|
|
© Copyright 2005 Harvey Olson.
Last update: 9/10/2005; 5:12:13 PM.
|
|
|
MAIN ARCHIVES
CATEGORY ARCHIVES
GRAFFITI CURRENCY
200 WORDS OR LESS
FILTHY LIES
LOVE NOTES
PRECISION GUIDED HUMOR
KING OF THE BLOGS
|
|
