I Got Nuthin'

This is what happens when I am left to my own devices on a Saturday evening with a computer and an internet connection.

My Thanksgiving Gift To You!

Ya gotta love the affectionate shoulder pats and the Dry Willie he gives the sax player at the end.

So here is some more Hurricane Smith for ya.



Happy Thanksgiving!

The Dash Chronicles - The Final Chapter

Dash finally adjusted to being at my house. His appetite slowly increased as he became more accustomed to his surroundings.

We reached an equilibrium.

He preferred to live under my couch. That was his space and I was cool with that. He came out when he wanted. He went back when he wanted. He's a cat. That's what they do.

He is a very affectionate and low maintenance cat. He isn't shy about jumping up in my lap, rubbing his head against my hand, or exhibiting other Mad Cat Skillz at demanding attention.

He is completely immune to catnip. No reaction whatsoever. Same with cat toys. He's too cool to be suckered in by rolling, noisy, trinkets.

Tomorrow, Dash and all of his kitty paraphernalia go back to his family.

I'm not sure what I will do.

It was nice having him here over the holidays, but I don't know if I want a permanent cat. I might have a slight allergy. I noticed some increased itchiness and dry eyed rubbeyness. Had to be more careful about animal-proofing my surroundings.

I can't deny that it was comforting to have a warm, living, loving, companion sharing my living space for a while.

A young, energetic, slutty, nymphomaniac would have been better. But the cat was nice.

I know for sure my lease requires an additional deposit for a pet and there might even be an increase in my rent.

I don't recall any language in my lease regarding uninhibited, sexually aggressive, female humans.

Hmmm. What to do? What to do?

Observation and Deduction

It is amazing what you can deduce about someone through casual observation. Keep in mind that all of these observations were made checking my mail or grilling burgers. No actual interest or spying was involved. Just casual observation and a functioning mind.

My neighbor is moving this weekend. For the most part my neighbors and I don't interact much. We all have garages, we pull in and close the doors and the only ones who go back out again are the dog owners.

But I've noticed some things about my neighbor over the past year that tell me a lot.

She's a young, big-boned girl who generally has her shoulder length hair pulled back in a pony tail, out of the way, and she wears scrubs. So, obviously, a medical technician or nurse of some sort.

She has one child, a husky lad of about 12 or so, short-cropped hair and he's in the school band where he plays trumpet. I've seen him at the bus stop with his trumpet case. This tells me he is a bit of a nerd (calm down - I was a trumpet player myself - I know of what I speak).



This also tells me he probably comes from a conservative household where they encourage their chunky children to increase their unpopularity by doing things like being in the marching band.

His mother is either recently divorced or recently separated. I think separated. She drives an SUV. Young, single mothers working in the medical field can't afford large SUVs unless they are doctors. Doctors don't live in anonymous McFourplexes in Independence. No, she's been married and he's still making payments on that beast.

I've seen her sitting on her front stoop or pacing back and forth outside her front door, still in her scrubs from work, talking on her cell phone and smoking. She's talking to her ex. I can't hear the conversation...I can just tell. She's having conversations she doesn't want her son to hear and they are stressful conversations so she is smoking.

There were times, early on, when I would go out on the patio to throw some meat on the grill and I would see her on her deck, sitting in a cheap plastic chair, coffee can on the deck next to her, smoking and reading.




She's not really a smoker. She doesn't want it around her son and she doesn't want it in her house. She doesn't normally smoke at all. She's just under a lot of stress right now.

Later, I noticed the plastic chair and the coffee can were gone. She quit smoking. Casual smokers can quit pretty easily, once the source of the stress has been removed. Something got resolved. Can't remember the last time I saw her talking on her cell phone and smoking.

Once, I saw her in something other than scrubs. She was all dolled up. Her hair was down. She was wearing civies. A dress, even! Albeit a long one reaching three quarters of a way down her legs. There was someone else outside the house. A younger woman. A babysitter. She was going out with someone or meeting someone important to her. Or maybe she was attending an event.

But I also couldn't help notice that she was wasn't wearing heels. She was wearing the clunkiest, ugliest shoes I've ever seen on a woman below the age of 80. I'm talking BCS's (birth control shoes).

She's religious. Probably LDS. This is Independence after all. The Command and Control Center of the Mormon Second Coming.

And today, she's moving out. An older couple, obviously her parents, are coordinating things. No expensive moving companies. Not even a U-Haul. Just pick up trucks and cars.

But there are a couple of movers that absolutely confirm my deduction about her religious affinity.

I offer photographic proof.



Mormon Missionaries, in full Mormon Missionary Regalia, despite the inappropriateness of the attire to the task, helping you stack big shit in a little truck.

Definitely LDS, but with issues. Her parents are helping her, a couple of missionaries in full dress uniform are helping her (indicating this is a charitable part of their mission).

But where is the rest of the church? If she were a Mormon In Good Standing, there would be an ARMY of big, burly, Mormons wearing weight lifting belts hauling shit out of that townhouse into moving vans with military precision. I've seen it with my own eyes. It is a logistical wonder to behold. It's like the Blue Angels of moving shit. Just try to stay out of their way.

The fact that she quit smoking and her parents and a couple of missionaries are involved (but her ex was nowhere in sight) lead me to believe that she was, for a while, outside the fold and is now on her way back in, with or without a spouse. But she isn't there yet. She still has some bridges to mend.

I hope she finds what she is looking for.

Happy Thanksgiving, neighbor. Have a nice life.

Happy Thanksgiving!

I'm thankful I have a job working for a company that seems to be unaffected by the financial chaos.

I'm thankful I have an intelligent, beautiful, well-adjusted daughter who is a total smart-ass.

I'm thankful that I had the uncharacteristically good sense to quit smoking a couple of years ago.

I'm thankful that folks like you stop by this piss-poor excuse for a blog, read what I write, and remind me how bugus and full of shit I really am.

I'm thankful that the citizens of this country finally woke up and realised that the right wing, evangelical, conservatives were bringing out and pandering to the very worst qualities in America and Americans.

I'm thankful that Barack Obama will be our next president.

I'm thankful that my first wife and I rediscovered the friendship that we completely fucked up by getting married 20 years ago.

But mostly, I'm thankful for my friends. It's been a rough year emotionally and I don't know how I would have come through it without my friends. Some of you blog and tweet and you know who you are. You are awesome. Thank you so much.

My family is a big FAIL for Thanksgiving this year so my daughter, young Galadriel Tanqueray Onassis and I are going over to one of my ex-girlfriend's for Thanksgiving dinner. After I take GTO back to her mom's at 4, I may go to a 2nd Thanksgiving dinner at another ex-girlfriend's house in Raymore. We'll see.

In the meantime, enjoy this meme I poached from average_jane:

1. WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother’s & father’s middle names):
Oliver Francis

2. NASCAR NAME: (first name of your mother’s dad, father’s dad):
Jimmy James

3. STAR WARS NAME: (the first 2 letters of your last name, first 4 letters of your first name):
Onxavi

4. DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal):
Black Bat

5. SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you live):
I don't have a middle name and Independence is a stupid last name.

6. SUPERHERO NAME: (2nd favorite color, favorite alcoholic drink, optionally add “THE” to the beginning):
The Blue Bourbon

7. FLY NAME: (first 2 letters of 1st name, last 2 letters of your last name):
Xaon

8. GANGSTA NAME: (favorite ice cream flavor, favorite cookie):
Rockyroad Chocolatechip...doesn't sound too gangsta to me.

9. ROCK STAR NAME: (current pet’s name, current street name):
Dash Cedarcrest. Not bad!

10. PORN NAME: (1st pet, street you grew up on):
Greeneyes Haynes. Sounds more like an old bluesman than a porn star. My real porn star name is Lance Peterson.

Happy Thanksgiving everybody and thanks for reading.

Burning Out His Fuse

Jesus Fucking Christ.

Dayum! Live Long, and Grow Old!

I mean, I know Vulcans live longer than Terrans, but, just FUCK!

The Bush Pardons

All Presidents do it. I won't even try to justify the Clinton pardons or compare the two. I'm just passing this along without judgement or commentary. You decide.

On the latest pardon list were:

_Leslie Owen Collier of Charleston, Mo. She was convicted for unauthorized use of a pesticide and violating the Bald and Golden Eagle Protection Act.

_Milton Kirk Cordes of Rapid City, S.D. Cordes was convicted of conspiracy to violate the Lacey Act, which prohibits importation into the country of wildlife taken in violation of conservation laws.

_Richard Micheal Culpepper of Mahomet, Ill., who was convicted of making false statements to the federal government.

_Brenda Jean Dolenz-Helmer of Fort Worth, Texas, for reporting or helping cover up a crime.

_Andrew Foster Harley of Falls Church, Va. Harley was convicted of wrongful use and distribution of marijuana and cocaine.

_Obie Gene Helton of Rossville, Ga., whose offense was unauthorized acquisition of food stamps.

_Carey C. Hice Sr. of Travelers Rest, S.C., who was convicted of income tax evasion.

_Geneva Yvonne Hogg of Jacksonville, Fla., convicted of bank embezzlement.

_William Hoyle McCright Jr. of Midland, Texas, who was sentenced for making false entries, books, reports or statements to a bank.

_Paul Julian McCurdy of Sulphur, Okla., who was sentenced for misapplication of bank funds.

_Robert Earl Mohon Jr. of Grant, Ala., who was convicted of conspiracy to distribute marijuana.

_Ronald Alan Mohrhoff of Los Angeles, who was convicted for unlawful use of a telephone in a narcotics felony.

_Daniel Figh Pue III of Conroe, Texas, convicted of illegal treatment, storage and disposal of a hazardous waste without a permit.

_Orion Lynn Vick of White Hall, Ark., who was convicted of aiding and abetting the theft of government property.

I Don't Think So, Stinkbait

My friend Stinkbait Boucher thinks that not only do I need a dog, but I need this dog.

The Dash Chronicles - Chapter 2

Thursday morning Dash was still in hiding. I topped off the food and water and cleaned out the litter box before heading off for work.

When I got home Thursday night the food dish was untouched. This concerned me. I knew he would be under the couch, so I tipped it up to roust him out. No squeaker.

So I got down on the floor and lifted up the foot rest. Squeaker is tucked way in the back behind a metal bar. I think maybe he's stuck back there and can't get out. Maybe that's why he hasn't eaten anything all day.

NOTE: Cats never get stuck anywhere. Anyplace a cat can get to a cat can get out of.

So I set about the task of extracting the cat. I'm laying on my left side trying to reach all the way into the back of the couch. I really need both hands, but I can only get my left hand back there. I try to get my right hand back there too, but only manage to bloody-up my right forearm on the hardware at the bottom of the footrest.

I finally manage to get Dash by the scruff of his neck and pull him out.

I pet him and cuddle him until I get him purring. I take him over and show him his food again. He's not interested. He wants down so I let him go.

Later that evening I'm sitting on the couch and something spooks him. He shoots out from under the couch and heads up stairs. But this time, both bedroom doors are closed. There's nowhere for him to hide. As I go up stairs to get him I can hear him butting against my bedroom door. When I get to the landing he panics and dashes past me hissing, hurling himself downstairs.

I go back downstairs and check under the couch. No squeaker. I check the bathroom and see the most heartbreaking sight. Squeaker is up on the bathroom counter, in the corner, up on his hind legs, pressed as close to the wall as he can get, making that squeaking sound. He doesn't make any effort to resist or try to get away as I pick him up and calm him down.

Poor thing.

Around 11 I get ready for bed. No need to top off the food dish because he still hasn't eaten anything. I look for him and find him cowering behind the downstairs toilet.

It occurs to me that he seems to be most comfortable in small dark places right now. His litter box was already in the bathroom, so I moved his food and water in the bathroom with him, turned off the light and closed the door. My hope was that he would feel safe and secure enough to eat something.

That was Day 2.

Starfleet Spamalot

The Dash Chronicles - Chapter 1

In an effort to piss off "SERIOUS BLOGGERS" everywhere, I'm making a blog post about a cat, complete with LOLcats pictures!

And it's not even my cat. BOOYAH!

Do ya hear that? That WHOOSHING sound as regular readers rush to navigate away from this blog as fast as they can? Followed by that little popping sound as the surrounding air rushes in to fill the vacuum where they used to be? Hawesome!

The cat in question is named Dash, due to his skittish nature. He was a stray taken in by some friends of mine, so he has some residual attachment and territorial issues. At least I guess he does. Seems to. I don't know shit about animals.

My friends were going on vacation for a week and thought they had a cat sitter, but said sitter flaked out on them less than 24 hours before departure.

As is the nature of social networking these days, they sent out a tweet on twitter looking for a replacement.

No one was more surprised than me to find myself volunteering for duty!

I've kinda been thinking about getting a cat lately, and this will give a chance to test drive one without making any commitments.

I made sure to cat-proof the house as best I could before going to bed. Folding up that runner with the drapey bits over my kitchen table...the one with the tassels on the end. The one that sits underneath the two large candle sticks and the large bowl of potpourri. Ya know, shit like that.

Oh, and I bagged up all the potpourri and put it away. Shit might be cat poison for all I know.

So they dropped Dash off on Wednesday while I was at work. I get home and am careful to make sure the garage door is fully closed before I opened the door to the house. I mean, they named the fucking cat "Dash". I'm not stupid.

I make a pass through the house calling for Dash using his nickname, "squeaker".

I see the litter box in the bathroom and the full food dishes in the kitchen, but there is no sign of this fucking cat. Nowhere.

I had closed the doors to the bedrooms before I left for work. I made sure the pantry and cabinet doors were all closed, drawers shut. There just weren't very many places for a cat to hide. He had to be under the couch.

But that's cool. I expected him to be skittish and shy in a new place. So I just went about my binnis. He'd come out when he wanted to. No pressure.

I pour a drink, go upstairs, change clothes, take a dump, check my google reader, my emailz and my tweets. Such is my evening ritual.

I finally make it back downstairs. Still no cat. I sit on the couch, turn on the TV and start surfing for something to watch. At some point I must have shifted my bulk in a way displeasing to the cat because I feel a disconcerting movement beneath my increasingly substantial ass cheeks (I'd already taken a dump, so it couldn't be that) and then this furry little gray rocket SHOT out of the opposite end of the couch and flew upstairs.

"Well, hello squeaker!" I says to his hairy contrail.

I figure he's pretty spooked, so I give him some time to calm down. I had left my bedroom door open so I knew he'd be in there somewhere.

He was pretty easy to find. He was making that little squeaking sound that earned him his nickname. The sound was coming from behind a couple of decorative throw pillows stashed beneath a Victorian dressing bench.

Yes, I have decorative pillows and a Victorian dressing bench in my Man Lair. Fuck you. Chicks dig that shit. How is your pile of dirty laundry and Chiefs comforter and pillow set from Walmart working out for ya, douche nozzle? And yes, I mean you.

But I digress.

So I gently reach in and extract him from his hidey hole. He doesn't resist at all. I pick him up, snuggle him, pet him, take him back down stairs. I show him where his food is and where his poop box is. I get him to the purring stage. After a bit he starts wanting down, so I let him down.

Right back under the couch. That's cool. Baby steps.

I manage to get him out again before I go to bed and repeat the process. I top off his food and water before going to bed.

That was Day 1.

Did I mention I've got this cat for 8 days?

By next week my readership will be down to me. And I'm not that sure about me.

Gay Marriage

Totally poached this graph from Wil Wheaton.

The Best Break Up Songs Ever

For anyone going through a "rough spot".

So I'm Getting A Cat!

Temporarily, anyway.

I've actually been contemplating getting a cat lately. It appears that my habitation situation won't be changing anytime soon, so I have been giving some thought to long term arrangements. Like hanging pictures. Hanging some curtains. Unpacking some of the shit in the garage. And having a companion.

Dogs are completely out of the question. If I wanted some hairy, needy, bundle of claws and teeth greeting me at the front door every night demanding my immediate attention I'd have stayed married to my 2nd wife. Fuck that.

Cats are cool, like me. You do your thing, I'll do mine. Sometimes I'll feed you. Sometimes we'll get together and snuggle. Otherwise, we'll leave each other the fuck alone.

A good friend of mine sent out a tweet alert that she needed an emergency cat sitter and much to my surprise, I immediately volunteered. So for the next 8 days, I'll be cat sittin'.

This will be perfect, actually. After 8 days I will either be willing to pony up the additional deposit and rent to have a pet, or I'll be saying "What the fuck was I thinking?!"

We'll see how this goes.

Plus, my daughter, her niece and her friend will be over this weekend and they will give the cat much welcoming loving.

I just like to repost this sometimes!

Ah, this never gets old!

Old People Fun

I feel like blogging about the last couple of days so that's what I'm going to do and you're going to take it and like it!

Just wanted to get that roles and responsibilities bullshit out of the way right up front.

Yesterday I had lunch at Tasso's with my most excellent 1st wife.



She was in rare form. Goddamn that woman had me in stitches! I wish we had enjoyed each other's company 20 years ago as much as we do today. She is one of my best friends and most trusted confidants.

The 2nd wife?



Yeah, not so much really. bitch

But I digress. So that was yesterday.

The other thing about yesterday was I had a homework assignment. You see, today is Absolutely Feisty's birthday.

Her actual birthday party will be at the burlesque show tonight at Korruption where her girlfriend, the uber-hot Eartha Delights will be among the performers.



If you aren't doing anything, you should go. In fact, even if you have plans for tonight, you should cancel those plans and go to the burlesque show instead. If you're not looking at Eartha Delight's pastie covered boobies tonight, then you hate America and are letting the terrorists win.

But the show doesn't start until 10 and there was a whole lot of birthday to fill up. My homework assignment was to find something fun to do today and entertain her.

My first suggestion was one of my favorite ways to spend a Saturday...going out and listening to live music around town. There are a lot of jam sessions that are always entertaining because you never know who will drop in.

Her response?

"Um...that sounds like old people fun. Keep looking."

You're a mean woman AF! Mean, mean, mean.

So I wake up this morning to news that there was going to be a nationwide protest rally against California's Proposition 8. It was to take place simultaneously across all time zones. The Kansas City rally was scheduled for 12:30 at The Plaza Fountain.

Perfect! After a quick breakfast of bacon, eggs and cinnamon toast on wheat bread and a big glass of ice cold milk, a load of laundry and a shower, I head over and pick up AF.

She's wearing a fucking tiara! Because it's her birthday! Awesome.

So we head down to the Plaza and the rally is just incredible. The crowd was huge! You had all the GLBT folks on the fountain side of 47th Street lining the sidewalk with signs and listening to an inspiring speech by Airick Leonard West.



On the other side of 47th street were maybe 5 religious nut jobs holding up signs talking about sins and abominations. A bunch of the GLBT folks cross the street and pretty much overwhelm the uptight freaks.

Horns were honking, people were cheering and clapping, pompous JOCO posers were annoyed that their sacred Plaza shopping experience was tainted by reality. It was great!

But it was fucking cold and we were hungry!

So I tricks her with my mad tricksing skills and suggest we go to BB's Lawnside BBQ for some lunch and live music...a.k.a. OLD PEOPLE FUN!

She totally goes for it. Ahahaha!

On our way south down Wornall I point out Dottie Mae's Costumes.

SCREEEEEECH!!!!

Bat Turn!



So we spend a good amount of time shopping for cool stuff at one of my favorite shops.



Go Go Boots were a prime focus. She also picked up a last minute wig for Eartha Delight's gig tonight. Awesome.

Then it was on to BB's for lunch and music, where we wound up running into and sitting next to a couple of my friends that I hadn't seen in a long time. More awesome!

After lunch we head back down to The Plaza. The location...The Capital Grille. The goal...their signature Pineapple Martini's.

When we got there, we were greeted at the door by Jackson County Executive Mike Sanders dressed in a fucking tuxedo!



Apparently there was some big thing going on that we unwittingly stumbled into. Of course, AF walked right up and introduced her self to Mike Sanders.

Neither one of us are sure why she did that.

I, on the other hand, completely avoided a woman that I used to work with who was sitting at a nearby table. Because she was wearing a fucking beret. Seriously. Who wears berets? On The Plaza? Pretentious bitch.

We spent the day celebrating gay people, making fun of stupid people and laughing our asses off.

It was a hoot! We had a blast!! My face hurts from so much laghing!

She declared it to be the best birthday EVER. In the history of EVER.

I delivered her to a safe location for a nap so she could rest up for tonight's festivities with her girlfriend.

My work here is done.

Outlaw Cigar, Saturday, December 6!

FREE BEER! FREE BBQ!
FREE HOT BABES!

You don't own enough guns and ammo to keep me away from something like this!

Thanks Chimpotle!

Now THAT'S change!

NCC - 1701 JJ Abrams Style

Veteran's Day

Since Saturday morning, I've been on a 4 day weeekend. I work in an industry that get's Veteran's Day off and I was savvy enough to take Monday as a vacation day. I tell you this because like some amorphous, amoeba-like, alien life form from the original Star Trek, I feed on your hate.



But I digress.

One of the coolest things about twitter is the ability to set up last minute social interactions. When I woke up at 9:30 this morning, I had no plans whatsoever. An hour later, I was showered, dressed in grown up clothes, and on my way to meet MySpyderWeb, her husband Kanga, KC Sponge, average_jane and princessofworld at Pizza 51.

I had also made arrangements to go to Kansas City's World War I Museum after lunch with KC Sponge, .

One of the advantages of blogging for almost 4 years is having a vault of previous blog posts to fall back on when creativity fails.

So here is my review of the WWI Museum from last year.

To all of you who had more balls and patriotism than I did, I thank you for your service.

And a special thanks to that stud in the first two pictures. My dad. He volunteered for the Merchant Marines during WWII and was later drafted into the Army during the Korean Conflict. He served double duty to ensure that I could safely sit on my fat white ass and spew bullshit 50 years later.

Thanks pops! And thank you all.

Is ParentCONNECT Too Much Information?

For those of you not familiar with ParentCONNECT, it's a web tool that allows you to micro-manage your child's school life.

You can monitor their homework assignments, email their teachers, and you can get email alerts if they fail to turn in homework or a miss a day of school. The only thing missing is a web cam that allows you to see them goofing off in class.

I never had access to a tool like that when young GTO was going to school in Richmond. Ray County don't play that shit.

But from kindergarten to 8th grade, GTO was a straight A/B student. No disiplinary issues, no problems. Just glowing grade cards with comments from teachers who described her as a joy to have in their classroom.

But now she's attending the Blue Springs Freshman Center and unlike Ray County, they do, in fact, play that shit. So now I have access to all of this fine detail. And it's disturbing.

I get email reports of failing grades because she has failed to turn in assignments. So I start talking to her about it and it pisses her off. We've never had these conversations before. There was never a reason to have these conversations.

But the thing is, she hasn't actually recieved a grade card yet. This is all a work in progress that I am seeing at a level of detail that was previously unavailable to me. She has never, ever, received a report card with anything below a B. There may have been one C. But still. She's a good kid and a good student.

So I told her I was going to back off and just trust her to do what she has always done and bring home the A's and B's.

But here is what I have up my sleeve.

She has recently discovered the joy of going to concerts and experiencing live music. I've bought her a couple of concert tickets in instances where there was an adult chaperone willing to go and stay with her and her friends while they endure the loud, unlistenable crap that 14 year old girls call music (I sound just like my dad talking about Jimi Hendrix!).

If her grade cards for this semester are below that A/B standard that she has established, I'm going to cut her off of little extras like concerts, CDs, T-Shirts, etc. and put her on notice. She has the next semester to get her act together and get back in that A/B range. If she fails to do so, I'll suspend her cell phone account for the summer. A (by then) 15 year old girl without a cell phone and text messaging for the summer. To make it hurt, I'd probably have to get her mother to take the laptop away too.

OK fellow parents, what do you think?

This was a lot easier when I didn't have access to the day to day stuff.

Support Local Burlesque!

If you're not ogling semi-naked, hot, young women with pasties, then you are letting the terrorists win.

Don't hate America! Go see boobies!

Plus, you will be helping Absolutely Feisty celebrate her birthday.

I'm Xavier Onassis and I approved this message.

I Have a Secret to Reveal

I confess.

I was a supporter of Barack Obama.

I know, I know, shocking, right?

Furthermore, I'm glad he won! Glad I tell ya!

And yet I still find this video funny enough to make me giggle like a school girl.


Obama Win Causes Obsessive Supporters To Realize How Empty Their Lives Are

I'm Not Ashamed To Admit This Is True

The awesome Eolaí at "American Hell" nailed it.

That is EXACTLY where I was. And I could "out" a few other local bloggers who were there with me.

It was an awesome experience. I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Real Change

My good buddy emawkc, cynical and bitter old bastard that he is, thinks that we are all a bunch of sappy, naive, unicorn-riding, butterfly-catching dopes for being happy America elected Barack Obama and thinking anything is going to change.

"But aside from the fact that by definition history is made every day, the only thing remarkable about this election is that Obama is black.

For some people that's enough. Heck, for some people that's the only thing that matters.

As for history and the big "change" that everyone is expecting, I'm surprised that so many are so naive to think that any real change will actually happen.

Politicians are still beholden the money of special interests. With Obama, even more so."

Well, he has already changed some things, hasn't he?

He sure as fuck changed some Red States to Blue States.

But here is the kind of change people wanted and the kind of change they got last night.

A change in approach. A change in leadership. A change in attitude.

Dubya's administration walked into office thinking that since the United States was the sole surviving Super Power from the Cold War, we can call the shots. We have the power to change the world and it is our God Given Mandate to do so.

So they set about stomping all over the world like a bad actor in a rubber Godzilla suit destroying the "Evil Doers" (a.k.a anyone we don't like and weak enough to beat up).

Barack Obama understands the difference between being a Leader and a Bully.

Leadership is all about inspiring people with a vision of where you want to go and what you want to accomplish. If you are an effective leader, people will flock to you because they share your goals and want to help you achieve them.

But bully's don't know how to lead. They only know how to threaten, intimidate and humiliate. Do what I want, the way I want, in the time frame I want, or I'll fuck you up three ways from Sunday!

That was the Bush Doctrine.

Emawkc (and the rest of the Obama detractors), you can say what you want about butterflies and unicorns. But you cannot deny that Obama has true leadership, that he inspires people, that people follow him because they want to, not because they are cattle prodded up the ass with threats of retribution, and fear of dire consequences.

Obama will look for ways to bring people together to achieve a common goal instead of following the Rove doctrine of finding divisive issues to set people apart from each other and create conflict to fuel partisan passions.

Obama will work HARD to re-establish communication with the rest of the world. No more isolationism. No more "our way or the highway". No more "you are with us or against us". The world is only that simple to a simpleton. The simpleton in question only has 75 days left to continue fucking things up.

Obama understands that we all live on this planet together. We all have to succeed or we will all fail. We live in a global economy and a global geo-political stage. There is no going back.

The biggest threat to everyone's security comes from people ANYWHERE in the world, including the U.S., at the bottom who feel like they have nothing to live for and nothing to lose.

If you can find a way to lift up that dangerous layer of the world and give them a reason for living and contributing, you have eliminated the greatest threat to post-modern civilization.

That is the Hope that Obama brings not just to the United States, but to the world.

That's Real Change.

President Barack Hussein Obama

My God.

This is the most important day in my over half a century on this planet.

I'll have more eloquent and effusive posts in coming days. But I am still in a state of pleasant shock.

Obama has 338 Electoral votes. McCain has 155.

That's a fucking landslide!

This election sends an important message to the rest of the world.

"WE AREN'T ALL FUCKING IDIOTS! SOME OF US HAVE A BRAIN! WE KNOW THE LAST 8 YEARS SUCKED ASS! WE'RE SORRY! We promise things will be different! We really can be the America we promised we would be back in 1776."

There is hope for The United States of America.

The dream is alive.

Vote

Bubba Ho-tep

If you've never seen it, I highly recommend it.

"Plot: Elvis (Bruce Campbell) and JFK (Ossie Davis), both alive and in nursing homes, fight for the souls of their fellow residents as they battle an ancient Egyptian Mummy"

Now THAT'S fucking entertainment!

Dell XPS R.I.P

The prognosis appears to be terminal.

This started sometime back.

Everything was fine until I attempted to download Microsoft's Window's XP Service Pack 3.

My computer got hung up during the install and I was forced to do a hard reboot.

When I did I got a blue screen memory parity error.

From that point on, I was only able to boot in Safe Mode.

When I researched the problem I discovered that Microsoft was offering FREE TECHNICAL SUPPORT for XP SP# issues until April of 2009! For those of you familiar with Microsoft, you know that this is unprecedented and indicative of their foreknowledge that they had a problem.

So I have been availing myself of this support for MONTHS. I'm even getting personalized, persistant, 2nd Tier technical support. They even sent me a bootable Windows XP CD so we can troubleshoot at the next level.

Unfortunately, my computer has since ceased to function entirely.

I came upstairs the other night to find my computer turned off. I never turn it off. When I tried to boot, the power light went amber for a few seconds, the hard drive light didn't blink at all and the computer went dead. Nothing.

I've tried some troubleshooting suggestions from Dell.com and they didn't help.

I tried cracking the case, cleaning the innards and wiggling stuff around. That didn't work.

So. I have some decisions to make.

Do I spend hundreds of dollars replacing component by component until I stumble across the right combination that brings my XPS back to life?

Do I yank the hard drive and send the rest to The Geek Squad and spend hundreds of dollars to see if they can fix the problems?

Or do I cut my losses, spend $400 on a new laptop that does 80% of what I need (email, blogger, twitter & HD porn) and cannibalize the 200gb hard drive and whatever else I can salvage from the XPS?

Your thoughts?

Why Twittering Will Never Replace Blogging

Had an interesting discussion with @Joey96 at the Outlaw Cigar's monthly event this weekend.

Joey96's position was that Twitter, which limits your submissions to just 140 characters was more in keeping with how people consume information today. People aren't looking for a treatise or an essay...they want sound bites. They want bullet points. They want summaries.

I don't necessarily disagree. I think it's a bit sad that people's attention spans are becoming so small that it requires an electron microscope to measure them. But I don't have a leg to stand on.

The attention span of humans has been in steady decline for tens of thousands of years. Think of the attention span required to build and share useful tools when you have no language and the most advanced technology you have is banging two rocks together.



One could view the evolutionary pressure of twittering as a technological form of natural selection serving to winnow bloggers with a predisposition to excessive verbosity from the online gene pool.

I know of at least one blogger who has embraced this new form of expression and does it better than anyone I know.

He can tell a complete story in just 140 characters. It's like a form of haiku. Which is awesome.

But it's different than a blog post.

A blog post is a painting,



a tweet is a photograph.



A blog post is a novel, a tweet is the movie version.

Bucketing both of them in "Social Networking Media" is painting with a pretty broad brush.

I would say that twitter falls into the blurred boundary between self publishing and instant messaging.

They are different media.

In a blog post, I have the luxury of including poached graphics and hyper-links to source material.

A 140 character text post to someones cell phone doesn't allow for that sort of information dissemination.

XO's Health Care Plan

We are the wealthiest and most scientifically advanced nation on the planet.

It is absolutely barbaric that any of our citizen's should be allowed to get sick and die through lack of health care when we have the means to prevent it.

This is not rocket science. It's medical science and we have it.

My Simple Plan

1. Every child born in the United States is entitled to a full Human Genome Map.

2. Genetic and medical information is an inviolable trust between a doctor and a patient. No law may be enacted that would allow 3rd parties to gain access to this information. Only the patient, immediate, authorized family members, and linearly authorized health care professionals.

3. Legislation prohibits anyone at any level in business, government or society from discriminating against anyone based on their Human Genome Map.

4. Every citizen is entitled to a full "Level 1 Diagnostic", once a year. This is a full physical and mental evaluation using the latest state of the art diagnostic tools. Full blood works, MRIs, EKGs, X Rays, every diagnostic test that the bleeding edge of medical science can apply.

5. Employers are required to give each employee paid time off work to receive both diagnosis and treatment as needed.

6. Every citizen is entitled to a lifelong medical regimen based on the delta between the yearly diagnostic exams and their Human Genome Map baseline. All conditions affecting a citizen'x mental and physical health are monitored and treated from cradle to grave.

7. Commercial Health Insurance is eliminted and single, tax payer funded system is established. The financial burden for providing this level of health care will be levied equally across all levels of society. We all pay for the health care of all of us.

There is no reason for anyone in this country to be denied health care. We can afford it. We should provide it.