Yodeling

I’ve decided that Yodeling is my new favorite thing.  I must start practicing.  My wife is from Germany.  I wonder if she can yodel.  I’ll try and remember to ask her.
Actually I suspect that even if she knows how she will deny it.  If you haven’t seen this video yet, spare 2 minutes of your day and watch this 11 year old yodeling on American Idol's Got Talent.  I've been advised by a reliable source that this is America's Got Talent regardless of what the people who made the Youtube video would lead you to believe. 

Maps.Bing.Com vs Maps.Google.Com

I like maps.  I don’t know why, but I do.  Today I ordered my tickets to go see Cadillac Sky.  The tickets are sold through Bass Performance Hall, but the concert is actually at McDavid Studio.  The address says 301 East 5th Street.  Google Maps shows this as a parking lot.  Microsoft has their little mapping engine which, in the past, has sometimes been much better at giving me information.

For some reason today, it’s coming up in Spanish.  When I tell it I want English, it changes to a half English, half Spanish thing.
I am a big fan of consistency.  One thing I can say about Google.  There stuff has never been absolutely useless.  I failed Spanish in High School for a reason!
Anyway, I know where 5th Street is in Fort Worth.  I know the Flying Saucer is at 111 East 4th Street.  Concert starts at 7:30.  I plan to be at the Saucer between 5 & 6 having a pint or two of Franziskaner Heffe-Weisse Dunkel.  Feel free to join me.  Unless you are mad at me for calling your friend a Jack Ass.

The First Amendment

People proudly stand up and fight for their second amendment rights.  All the time you hear people blathering on about government’s gun regulations.  Sometimes I get so tired of hearing about it that I think maybe the government was right.  Then I realize what I’m thinking and that there are hundreds of armed people standing around me and I quietly sit down.

Edward Bulwer-Lytton said, “The pen is mightier than the sword”.  He didn’t say is was mightier than the gun, but I suspect it holds true.  Every time I use the word gun I think of Full Metal Jacket.

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

I am quite sure this amendment has been analyzed and re-analyzed a thousand times by people a thousand times smarter than me, but I’ve never analyzed it.  I’ve been told I’m ill informed on numerous occasions and I suspect that’s true.  Being ill informed does not, however, make me un-opinionated.  And sometimes, in order to make people believe my opinions are fact, I portray them with a sprinkling of accuracy to shelter my fragile ego.

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion

Ok, I can live with that.  I’m not fond of religion, but if it makes you happy.  Establish all you want.  We’ll make more.  But the next part:

or prohibiting the free exercise thereof

I’m thinking that the guys that wrote this didn’t count on bad people wildly skewing this one.  Didn’t someone back in 1791 say, “Yeah, but what happens when some bonehead out in West Texas decides to start impregnating 13 year old girls in the name of religion?”

In my infinite wisdom, I have slightly modified the wording.  I am recommending an amended amendment.

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof so long as the exercise of said religion doesn’t involve hurting people either financially, mentally or physically (especially children)

Unfortunately (or fortunately), I think my amendment to the amendment has just outlawed organized religion.  Sorry.

The next part is the freedom of speech part.

or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press

I had to look up abridging.  It says “to shorten or reduce in scope”.  That would seem to indicate that there already is a scope.  This is where the pen comes in.  I reckon the only thing that’s killed more people than the written word is religion.  And religion has its roots in the written word.  And we are allowing people to spew forth words freely?  Without regard to the damage they can cause?

Look how powerful the press has become.  Look how powerful the media has become.  I guarantee you we will never elect a leader in this country unless that leader is in the news.  He either has to be newsworthy or he has to be able to pay for ads on television.  The intelligent men that wrote this amendment couldn’t imagine the small little world we live in today.  They had newspapers that trickled out information.  Damage control was easy.

Let us amend this amendment as well.  We’ll say,

or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press so long as the information doesn’t glorify the bastards or make the criminals infamous

We already protect to some extent.  We have to say “alleged” until he’s been convicted.  But I say screw the criminals.  When Jack Asses want to run jets into the World Trade Center.  The media should not be able to give the Jack Asses names, nationalities, or religious points of view, and they certainly should not be able to name them terrorists.  They should be called Jack Asses.  That way their stupidity can not be glorified or justified by anyone else in the world.  I guess they could call them wannabe terrorists if you wanted to make a distinction between the Jack Asses that rob convenient stores.

The man that crashed his plane into the IRS building in Austin last week.  I don’t want to know his name.  I don’t want to know why he did it.  We don’t need to know these things.  These bits of information make other Jack Asses stand up and take note.  Now instead of being a Jack Ass, the media has turned this man into a martyr.  People are saying, “Well after dealing with the IRS I can see why someone would be driven to do such a thing.”  No you can’t. Don’t be a Jack Ass.  The only time violence is the answer is to protect yourself from violence.  Flying your stupid ass plane into an IRS building isn’t protecting anyone.  It’s being a Jack Ass.

If you are one of the people that know his name then ask yourself, “Who are the people who were injured or killed by this Jack Ass?  Who are the kids that are going to grow up without a mom or a dad because of this Jack Ass?  Who are the people that’ll feel fear every time a prop plane flies over head because of this Jack Ass?”

I’ll leave the rest of the amendment un-amended.

And tomorrow I’ll continue with my normal dose of mean spirited jovial blogging about random craziness.  Sometimes you just have to get this stuff out of your system.  Trust me.

More Ash Koley...And Phil

Way back on January 2nd, I posted a little post about happy music.  I said something about this being the year for happy feel good music and I posted a video by Ash Koley called "Don't Let Your Feet Touch Ground".

Ash Koley...And Phil forced me to do something I said I'd never do.  They forced me to download mp3's from Amazon.  I have close to 1000 CD's.  In fact I may have over 1000 CD's.  I like having the CD.  But, as far as I could tell, you can't buy Ash's CD's.  You can download the album in mp3 format, but I said I'd never do that.

Anyway, I broke down and downloaded some music the other day.  And to celebrate that strange and unforgiving hurdle, I am posting more feel good happy music from Ash Koley...And Phil... "Downtime Up".

An American Tail and My Twisted Sense of Humor

My daughters and I watched this movie yesterday evening on Netflix “Watch It Now”.

If you are in the right frame of mind when you sit down to such cartoons it can be wicked fun.

If you haven’t watched it before I’ll give you a little background (hopefully without giving anything away because I know you all want to watch it).

It’s basically about a little mouse family escaping from Russia where the cats are evil to come to America where there are no cats. That’s already kind of funny.

Of course, on the way across the ocean Fievel Mousekewitz falls overboard trying to catch his little blue hat (yes, the one in the picture on his head). He manages to crawl inside a floating bottle and make it to Liberty Island where a French Pigeon is constructing the Statue of Liberty.

The bird names the little mouse, “My Little Immigrant” which just cracked me up. Don’t ask because I don’t know why. Maybe it was the French accent in America calling the little Russian mouse “My Little Immigrant”, but I couldn’t get it out of my head. When my wife got home I called her, “My Little Immigrant” and she hit me.

Fievel sets off in search of his family somewhere in New York City. His sister, Tanya Mousekewitz has a scene with Mama Mousekewitz where she is saying that she thinks her brother is still alive (remember he fell overboard). “Mama, I have a feeling that Fievel is still out there somewhere”. “It’ll go away,” Mama Mousekewitz consoles. It’ll go away? Who wrote this thing? Yet more tears of merriment.

Anyway, turns out the mice in America are trying to win their freedom from the cats in America. Yes, there are cats in America. There is this rich old mouse (Gussie Mouseheimer) who is trying to organize the revolution. At one point she is making a speech and she says in this strange voice with some kind of hoity English/German accent, but with an Elmer Fudd speech impediment, “I have dedicated my life to helping those less fortunate than myself (that’s everyone).” I suspect you may have had to see it to get the full unabated belly laugh, but it was great. We had to rewind a couple of times.

Oh wait. I found a clip. You have to get to about the 1:25 mark…

Tiger Woods’ Apology

I really tried not to do this, but I couldn’t help it. After the fun I had making a play of my last Internet Blog Drama Storm, I had to try my hand at this. Plus a colleague at lunch put me up to it. It’s really all his fault.

This will be a short one. I’m not feeling all that creative. There will be 3 players: Tiger Woods who is addicted to sex (he’s finally admitted to being a male between 13 & 72). We’ll call him TW in the play.

Tiger Woods’ Mom who is proud of her addicted son. We’ll call her MW. Is it odd to claim to have a sexual problem and have a last name of Woods?

And finally, the Press or TP (like toilet paper). They just ask the questions and offer snide remarks.

As usual my thoughts and the setting will be in italics. Oh yeah and just so I don’t get in trouble for anything I’m about to say or have already said, I did not watch the apology. The only news I’ve heard I’ve heard sitting at the bar listening to old ladies heckle. So this has absolutely little basis in fact.

We start out in quiet press room with TW approaching the podium. Head bowed in obvious sadness.

TW: Ladies and gentlemen and the press. I’d like to offer my heart felt apology for having wild and crazy sex with all those women…and getting caught. I’m sorry.

He looks like he’s about to cry. The sadness over getting caught is traumatic.

TP: What? Is that all? We’re booked full of advertisers for the next 30 minutes. You must continue. What does your mom think about all this?

MW: Boy, I can’t believe you had sex with all those hot chicks. You are just like your father.

TW: Well then my father was a wise and lucky man. Like me. Except it probably wasn’t as easy for him because he wasn’t a golf star who had the money and notoriety to have thousands of women throwing themselves at him daily. That reminds me, when is the next tournament?

TP: Speaking of playing. When do you plan to get back on the course.

TW: Well, you know me, I can’t do anything without a wood in my hand. The lower I score, the more I score. It’s like magic. And I’m sorry.

TP: So that means we could see you back in business by the end of this year?

TW: Are you kidding? I don’t think I can wait that long. Did I not tell you I’m addicted. I could do 18 holes right now.

MW: Oh I love you son. When they knock you off your SUV with a golf club, you get right back in and drive it home.

And the scene closes with a teary hug between TW and MW as TW slyly winks at all the hot chicks in the audience standing behind his mom.

As they break to commercial, TW’s new endorsement deal is the first advertisement. It’s a link. Not for the youngsters.

I hate updating these after I've posted them, but...

Do you know what the difference is between Tiger Woods and Cirque Du Soleil?

Do ya do ya?

Cirque Du Soleil has a cunning array of stunts!

Cliff Notes of The Legendary Storm

In the past few days I have made several references to a storm that was brewing on another site.  I think I even linked the site in one of them.  It’s here.

Anyway, I’ve been questioned about its contents by those unfortunate enough not to have the time or desire to read through the drivel.

In honor of these folks, I have decided that I will supply cliff notes to said event.

To prepare, you need to know the players:

We’ll start with J.  I’m not in the mood to do a lot of typing.  J was the chief voice of reason and was consistently looking from both points of view in a seemingly futile attempt to bring peace.  Jesus starts with J.  Easier to remember that way.

The next player was hmmm.  Let’s call him D.  D stands for diminutive as he has a knack for belittling.  You can think of him as the D-man, if it helps you remember.

The third players we’ll call Q.  Queen starts with Q and all who hear Q’s announcements must fall to the floor in supplication as her word is gospel.  Jesus doesn’t start with Q, but Q’s words are gospel never the less.  None shall say anything that could possibly be thought of as contrary to the gospel according to Q.

We also have a set of A’s (not from Oakland).  A stands for Anonymous, Asshole, Amateur, Adversary to the Queen, Adoration to the Queen and so on.  I’ll just call them A1 through Am.  I don’t know how many there are right now.

And saving the best for last there was the humble mumblings of a player we’ll call Gar.

Ok, I’ll post this as a play.  As a bonus, Gar’s thoughts will appear in italics when necessary or humorous.

The play starts over on a clean blog slate we’ll call D’Land.

D (posing thought provoking conundrums to his mass of readers and to Q in particular): Oh Q, could you please enlighten us and let us know where the pristine water comes from that occupies these holes you have decreed as Wink Sink 1 and Wink Sink 2?  The water looks so inviting but I thought Wink was in a parched area of the world we call West Texas.

Q (trying to be polite to D, but not too polite to hide their secret romance): Oh Darlin, that pretty stuff is produced by the drilling industry that has marched upon my sacred lands stabbed it with numerous injection wells and filled it with brine water.

D (trying not to offend Q and somehow managing): How the heck can the drilling industry produce that much water?  They must have had alien help or something!

Gar (making his first appearance and setting the seeds for a huge blood bath): Winkler County sits on top of the Cenozoic Pecos Alluvium Aquifer.

Q (riled now): Water doesn’t come from aquifers and we all know Wink sits on top of an underground river.  That water is too far below ground.  I’ve been assured by the people that make assurances.  Go back to your cave and sulk until you think of something that is correct.

don’t ask cuz I don’t know

D (seeing an opportunity to become one with the Queen): Is Gar one of those oil/gas industry shills spewing forth propaganda and water?

yes I know.  “How the heck can drilling produce that much water” seemed more like something said by the shills but I didn’t write this play, I just summarized

Q (I’m not sure): Oh D, don’t be too hard on Gar.  That’s my job.  He’s no shill.  He’s just ill informed.  He believes what he types.

thank god someone does!

A1: Blah blah blah.  Crap runs down hill.  The aquifers could be compromised.  I love you my Queen.  Please protect us from the evil empire.

Q: Fear not A1 for I am with you I will pick up my bottle of wits and protect you.  Gar doesn’t know what the heck he’s talking about.  He says the aquifer filled the holes with water which is a load of crap, but not the kind that runs down hills.

I’m not leaving too much out.  You are correct when you say, “Gar didn’t say that”

J (finally! and thank God! and you’ll have to teach me how not to invoke the Q’s ire): It could be that the water produced by the evil industry is good for you.  Have you ever tried any?  Ha.  Just kidding of course (maybe that’s the trick).  I must say that what you say Gar said, even though he didn’t, could be true.  The aquifer could be filling the sink holes with water (insert technical data to back up statement).  But, I’m not an oil/gas lover as you all know!  I don’t even own a car.  I still ride my donkey every where.

Gar (something clicked inside my head – I’m not entirely sure what it was, but it was fun):  Damn it people can you read?  All I said was that Wink sits on top of an aquifer.  It’s not difficult.  (then I went on to berate the queen and accuse her of trying to make me look stupid – I swear I could hear the headsman sharpening his axe.  I may have also mentioned something about rain and looking up aquifer). 

Q: Well I got my information from the Commish.  I have decreed that the county commish is all knowing and therefore his word expressed through my keyboard is also gospel.  The County Commish told me, through various book reports and tours that the oil industry has been in Winkler County since the beginning of time spewing forth water and propaganda at a saturating rate!

At this point I paused.  I was wondering if this all knowing wizard also knew that if it weren’t for the industry there would be no commish (I don’t really call it a commish, I’m just using the Q’s lingo to try and score points). I also wonder if he knew that for thousands, perhaps millions of years Wink was at the bottom of an ocean.  But, since it was difficult for people to comprehend “Winkler County sits on top of an aquifer”, I chose to keep my comments to myself.

D (attempting to be antagonist, loyalist and friendliest all at the same time and he almost pulled it off):  Oh Gar, I asked where the pretty water in the sink holes came from and you said Wink sits on an aquifer so of course we all assumed that you were answering the question that I asked Q.  I didn’t ask you, but since you answered.  Oh and Q is blameless in all this you cranky old man.  Her words are like staccatos of classical gravy to my love starved ears.  And Happy Birthday.

It was my birthday, but I was afraid to assume he was talking to me so I kind of ignored it.  It was 2 days after J’s birthday and all.

Gar: You said my hometown area of Winkler County was a parched desert so I simply stated that it sits on top of an aquifer.  The possibility could exist, according to J that this is the source of the water, but I don’t know.  It’s just a theory (I may have added something about deer piss – the exact verbiage escapes me at the moment).

Q: Oh puh-lease.  Winkler County sits on top of an aquifer is the most muddled response to any question I’ve ever seen in my life.  Quit being an ass.  The queen decrees it and J rides it.  Or off with your head!

D: Oh Q you are so charming and delicious.  I wish I could just eat you up and quit imagining the gravy in my ears.  Gar is a pissy little bitch and deserves everything he has coming.  I can’t believe he actually said that Winkler County sits on top of an aquifer.  He must be out to get you or something.  He’s an insane little insensitive pissy little bitch who wouldn’t know an engaging dialog if it slapped him in the face!

Gar: Q.  In an effort to further your education I am recommending a dictionary opened to the definition of muddled.  D, you’ll just have to do a search for “engaging dialog”.

D: I know you are, but what am I?  I mean, uh, look up pissy little bitch or just find a mirror eh.

J: Something about Wink having sinkholes.  Something about various players having hemorrhoids.  Something about sillyheads.  Something about MTV reality shows.

It wasn’t his best scripture.  It was amusing though.

D: Be careful J.  You must not say anything that could bring you closer to Q.  She is mine!  Be more juvenile or join Gar in his Pissy Little Bitch kingdom.

D & J have a private dialog about A3 (a yet unseen post – not the musical group) making Gar look like Susy Sunshine.  Being 35 or 70 or something (their age).  And the decency of D in deciding whether or not to censor A3 and sending A3’s comment to Q for perusal.

A3: Q, quit hiding your love for D like some silly schoolgirl.  Everyone can see that you agree with everything he says.  It’s time to step up to the plate and propose marriage so you can quit being bitchy.

I believe A3 was beheaded.

D: Oh Q, puh-lease be my bitch.

Am (let’s just call her Molly for readability’s sake but she was anonymous – thus the Am): I am either the Q in disguise or someone hired by D to join the fray.  Oh, did I say that out loud?  Gar’s a belligerent little puke.  I can’t believe he said Wink sits on top of an aquifer.  The nerve!  Oh, and J’s a cute little guy.  Oh yeah, and being anonymous is cowardly.  I looked it up in the mirror.

Gar: Ok.  I’m sorry.  Winkler County does not sit on top of an aquifer.  Can I keep my head?

J: A3 is a headless ass.  Perhaps you guys should quit talking about sink holes and start talking about gay rights or healthcare or something.

D: Oh Gar.  Perhaps you don’t understand what people think of you.  You say, “Wink sits on an aquifer” and everyone hears, “I am smarter than you are, I am smarter than you are, I am smarter than you are, nah nah nah nah nah” and no one likes to hear that.  You need to work on your communication skills.  Wink sits on top of an aquifer can be taken too many ways.

D: Oh I almost forgot! Molly, I love the way you chat.  You are almost as coherent as Q, but don’t tell her that.  No no.  I want to keep my head.

Gar: I already apologized once.  I’m sorry I misinformed your listening audience by saying Winker County sits on top of an aquifer.  That was entirely misleading.  I promise I’ll work on my communication skills before spewing forth any more horrible misinformation.  I promise, promise promise!  Really!

A4: Oprah Winfrey’s coming to town.  She says she wants to get to the bottom of this and make sure you two aren’t related.

I believe Oprah is codename for the executioner.  I’m skeered.

D: Gar, you need to go back to your psychiatrist.  You are so insensitive.  First you confuse everyone and then start calling everyone names while they are still befuddled.  It’s not nice at all.  Perhaps a psychiatrist could help you overcome your muddled way of derailing engaging dialogue.  God save the Q.

Ae: D is good, D is great, if I was cake D would be my plate.

Gar: Ok, you win. I am an insensitive, non dialoging, non communicating pissy little bitch.  Please please help me with my insecurities and insurmountable problems with charm and social skills.  Cuz you are great and the Q is too, but I don’t want to be anywhere near the plate.  And why is Molly calling A3 cowardly for being anonymous and calling people names?  Didn’t she just anonymously call me a puke?

J: Ok guys.  Wink sits on top of 3 aquifers.  You guys jumped way too far down Gar’s throat.  Gar way overreacted.  Don’t gang up on Gar.  He’s hypersensitive.  Gar, calm down.  All is right with the world. Party on Wayne.  Party on Garth.

D: I love Molly even though she is technically anonymous.  Let her bitch slap you if she wants to Gar.  I decree it and I’m 2 steps from being King.  Thanks for the aquifer info J.  Way to stay on neutral ground (I thought that was a way odd comment for obvious reasons). Gar and A3 are now allies cuz Gar said Winkler County sits on top of an aquifer and A3 called Q a bitch.  Damn allies.

J: I’m moving to Switzerland.  I hear they’ve agreed French is a prettier language than German.  They are quite neutral. Like me.

Lots of insanity from Molly and Gar and D which I don’t care to document.  It was inconsequential and in fact I was beginning to see the writing on the proverbial end of the tunnel.  Most of it was Molly calling Gar names and arguing that she/he/it was not anonymous because when they posted they typed in “Molly”.  I bet you didn’t see that one coming.

Q: Oh I am so lucky!  All my loyal anonymous allies and D are stepping up to the plate to defeat A3.  How quaint.  And D, will you marry me so I can quit being a bitch?

D: My my my, I step away for but a moment and Q is asking for my hand in marriage.  I’m all like blushing or something.  Or perhaps my blood is pumping from the exciting possibility of inheriting my kingdom!

D & Q then exchange a multitude of quaint love notes accusing Gar of being A3.

A5: You know I’ve lived in this parched desert for 30 years and my kids and I go out swimming in these sink holes.  The water is not bad.  I don’t know that you’d want to drink it though.  It’s not brine water.  Fish could live in it.

I could see why A5 posted that anonymously.  God forbid people use the evil drilling man’s water for recreation.  They could be shills spewing forth propaganda.  I am just thankful he didn’t say anything like, “Winkler County sits on top of an aquifer”.  I reckon molten lava would have erupted from the shit storm that would have caused!

The rest of it degenerated into D (the moderator) not being able to manage his blog.