Saturday, May 5, 2007



Friday, May 4, 2007

The Dead Enders

So three of the 10 white males hoping to be the Republican presidential sacrifice this time around don't "believe" in evolution. There must be an ironclad law that no matter the context or situation, 30% of those questioned are just plain proud to be stupid &/or ignorant. (See: How many think G. W(orst) Bush is "doin' a heckuva job.")
"Don't try to confuse me with the facts, my mind is made up!"


THE ANGRIEST CAT IN THE WORLD (A tip of the Bouffant chapeau to David Lynch.) Princess Lily (my recently deceased mother named her, don't blame me) takes a break from biting & scratching the very hand that feeds her, 3 May 2007, in the afternoon.

Thursday, May 3, 2007

A Trip to the Store

To the store and back. I won't have to leave the pad again today unless I force myself to wash clothes. That's an almost tolerable excursion under the sun, if I listen at the door and from the balcony to be sure no neighbors, managers, landlords or other such scum are outside waiting to talk to me or inflict other such horrors.
Purchases made: Pack of Camels (non-filter, of course, it's the fiberglas & asbestos in the filters that kill the sissified weaklings who smoke filtered butts) liter of Dr Pepper (not diet; sugar good, fake sugar bad) Dentyne Ice Arctic Chill (tastes tolerable, exception that proves sugar good, fake sugar bad) L. A. Times (yes, printed on the mutilated bodies of murdered trees, how retro of me).
Non-purchases acquired: Local give-away version of The Onion (featuring events, movies, shows, music I wouldn't attend if you paid me) LA Weekly (really don't know why I still bother, it's been a suckfest for most of its 25+ years lining local litter pans, and its acquisition by the New Times organization hasn't improved it any, indeed I have a pile of about the last three months worth of issues on the floor which my feline friend & associate uses for claw trimming purposes, soon I will go through them at least to read the cartoons, or I'll just recycle them) and CityBeat (an [I think] locally owned free weekly with some good writers & columnists [Hey! I was just scanning the masthead to see who the owner(s) might be, it doesn't say, although the Human Resources Manager's e-mail is "," that might be a clue, but I also noticed that one of the editorial contributors listed is Richard Meltzer, so why don't we see any contibutions from The Mad Meltz? He did a fine piece on The Opera w/in recent memory, but nothing I recall since. Get on the stick, CityBeat!]).
What I will read in CityBeat: This week's cover story, about the gummint deciding that eco-activists are "domestic terrorists." See's 30 April links to similar stories (in the 10th graf). Now, back to the original purpose of this run-on mess, which, as you may remember, is entitled: "A Trip to the Store." Is the Caramel Frappucino no more? Did the shitheels at Starbucks decide to remove this most delectable (for Starbucks) concoction from the free market without public announcement, or requesting my permission? All I know is I've seen none of it on our nation's shelves for the last couple weeks. My advice to those of you who like to pay through the nose for coffee & similar fare is The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf (& not because they're ampersand fans). But don't bother visiting the one on Beverly Blvd. (north side, between Fairfax & La Brea) during Shabbat.

Awake Again

Back at the keyboard again. Today's Big Story on MSNBC (the demon spawn of Microsoft & General Electric)? The first (18 months 'til the election, what's taken them so long?) so-called debate 'twixt Republican candidates. Only problem? IT'S NOT A DEBATE, YOU CRETINS, IT'S A PRESS CONFERENCE WITH TOO MANY QUESTIONEES & NOT ENOUGH QUESTIONERS! A "debate" would be the establishment of a proposition (as in: "Resolved: Republicans are Authoritarians Whose Only Desire Is To Make You Suffer While They & Their Cronies Profit From Said Suffering Both Financially & Psychologically, Because They're A Collection of Twisted, Greedy Pin-Dicks" [just as an example, I'm not saying this is true]) and the arguing of the proposition among the candidates, as opposed to what we're going to get: 10 creeps being tossed softball questions about their hair-helmets and/or comb-overs by a motley collection of sycophants who've been bought & paid for by the corporations who dominate what passes for public (but at least it's "civil") discourse in this, The Greatest Nation-State on the Face of This Planet. Oh, wait, these are Republican candidates, we can't impugn their masculinity with hair-do questions, we'll instead establish their supreme macho credentials by asking how many animals they've each killed with their bare hands, or, in a pinch, their concealed pistols. There is always the hope that someone has fueled the Air Force One they're using as a prop for their Q&A (ooooh, what a big fuselage!) the engines will start turning over and the whole collection of ninnies will melt like The Wicked Witch of the West, but hope, like faith & optimism, is just a simpler word for equine excrement. (Note to my audience: That means horseshit.)


Blogging has given me a headache already, or maybe it's having been awake for almost 18 hours now. The horror! But worry not, I'll be back later today, I'm sure something else will have irked me no end by then, and I know you (by which I mean, of course, me, because no one else is aware of this) can't wait to hear just what pisses me off.


Hurray hurray,
The First of May.
LAPD starts beating people
in MacArthur Park today.

Will they ever learn? Will they even learn not to beat on television reporters with camera crews taping them? Is their common sense checked at the door in exchange for their batons (that's what they call 'em, makes you think of some corn-fed majorette leading the band at the annual "Pioneer Days" parade, doesn't it?) & helmets & flak jackets & all the other surplus military gear that the (formerly "our") federal government hands out to local law enforcement to facilitate the militarization of "our" society?

Questions, questions, questions, flooding into the mind of the concerned young person today.

At Last, Something Has So Irritated Me That I Wasted Even More of My Life Starting a "Weblog" to Bitch & Moan About It!!

I watch television. A lot. SoCalEd needs the money more than I do. Even as I wander the web, the idiot box is on. I'm hoping something horrible will happen & I'll know about it the very instant MSNBC (Mighty Sorry No Body Cares) or CNN (Crappy Nothing Network) decide to share it with the rest of the world. And, reclusive misanthropic melancholiac that I am, I'm still residually humanoid enough to desire something vaguely human or at least mammalian making noise around me. However, the friend and feline associate I share my solitude with is not very vocal, Windows XP has decided there is "No Audio Device" on my devil box, and as I'm willing neither to make musical decisions nor make the physical effort to change the CD or tape (it's enough of a struggle to click the "I hate this fucking piece of music, don't you ever dare play it in the same Zip Code as I'm in again" option on those "customized for you" music services the vast corporate intertube outfits make available) I just leave the tube on. As mentioned above, it's usually a news channel, or even "World Nightly Evening News." (Just so I can know what the people who run "Nightly Evening World News" think the wretches who watch their crap should be watching, not because I think I'm gaining any actual objective knowledge from said watching.) Said channels & programs (and of course the Sabbath gas fests) all skew to an older demographic. That means advertisements for medications (and that no-self-respect shitheel Dennis Hopper talking about your "dreams" and implying that if you give your money to some corporate parasite "fund" or whatever the hell they're calling their scam the 1960s will never stop for you - no fucking wonder "Gen X" or "Y" or "Z" or whoever are always whining on their little blogs about how they wish "The Boomers" would just die & get out of the way - I'm starting to agree with them, at least based on Mr. Hopper & his "Freedom Fund" or whatever the hell his con is called, and I'm a so-called "Boomer"!) and among all these ads we find (over & over & over & over again, to the point that I finally snapped and wrote this pile of steaming crap) the lovely, and apparently quite greedy as well, portrayer of the title characters of both Gidget & The Flying Nun, one Sally Field, who also earns at least AFTRA scale in some weekly Sunday night soap opera, shilling for a product called Boniva, which cuts off osteoporosis at the pass, or something equally noble. This is all well & good, no one wants to see older female ancestors/relatives hobbling about on a walker, or if you do want to see that you certainly don't want to have to drive the old bat all over hell 'cause her debilitating condition no longer allows her to put the pedal to the metal, and that's not the point of this, I'm sure it works just fine (keep your ears open for the possible side effects though). No, my complaint is the selling point of this fine formulation. Apparently the products with which Boniva (and by the way I'm just so fucking sorry I haven't yet mastered HTML yet, so I could make that cute little tm thingie next to the word) competes in the free market require the vibrant, lively, still kickin' & rockin' ladies who need their skeletons strengthened to "set aside one day a week" to take their pill. Yes, Sally's "girlfriend" (Odd choice of word, that, by the way. Wouldn't just plain "friend" do as well? Does Sal want to tell us something? I've never seen men in any Boniva ad, with or without Ms. F., just gals bummed at their weekly regimen, so it doesn't seem necessary to emphasize that it's not her boyfriend.) has to "set aside" one day a week to take her pill. ONE DAY A WEEK TO TAKE HER PILL! WTF?, as the kids (those rotten little punks) say. Set aside one day a week. Is this some sort of horse pill that requires renting a crane to get it to mouth level? Does "girlfriend" have to visit a medical professional who's hiding behind a lead apron and using tongs to drop the pill down "GF's" gaping maw? Let me make this just as clear as possible, so that even people like you can understand: IT'S JUST A FUCKING PILL! YOU DON'T HAVE TO "SET ASIDE" A DAY TO TAKE IT, YOU JUST TAKE IT!! IF IT TAKES YOU MORE THAN 20 SECONDS TO TAKE THE FUCKING THING, INCLUDING OPENING & CLOSING THE BOTTLE, YOU'RE AN IDIOT!! (Of course, if you got the rheumatiz & the fingers ain't what they used to be, that's another story, and if it comes in one of those bubble do-dads you have to pop it out of, that could add seconds to the time, and I guess pouring that glass of calcium-enriched o. j. could make the whole process of opening the fridge, getting the glass, etc., etc., consume as much as, oh, let's say, TWO FUCKING MINUTES, TOTAL?) And the advantage of Boniva? Well, you need only "set aside" one day a MONTH! Great. Of course, you're probably more likely to forget the damn thing entirely if you only do it once a month, but they don't mention that, do they? There is a shot of a date book in the ad, perhaps the actual problem is having to write "Take your osteoporosis prevention pill today, dummy!" four times per month, instead of the so much simpler once per month. By now, if you or anyone else have made your way this far (let alone if anyone has even found this in the first place) you've assumed that your humble author is the sort of person who has to take at least one medication a day (probably under penalty of law) and of course you'd be abso-fugging-lutely correct. And it's no problem at all to "set aside" one day a day to take it, either. I wake up, I turn on the television, I take my pill, and soon Ms. Field will be along to explain how happy her "girlfriend" was to have Sally tell her she only has to "set aside" one day a month. Really improves your entire existence, dunnit? Doesn't do too much for mine, though.