Image Hosted by

Saturday, July 30, 2005

A Long-Overdue But Well-Deserved Linking

I friend told me about this one a while back. It has a special place in my heart. It's funny. Visit it often.

Overheard In New York

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Bloggers Helping Bloggers

Jasmine has been preparing for the Bar exam and wanted a few guest bloggers to lend a hand in keeping her blog going. Naturally, I said no. And I never did guest blog. The end.


No, for the lovely Jasmine, of course I said yes. So, instead of posting anything here, I'll just send you her way. The entry I wrote, entitled "City of Love, Zombies," is about the first time I ever met Jasmine in person (while I was in NY interning). It's a true story. More or less. Mostly less. But that doesn't mean its legitimacy should be brought into question, heh-heh, I mean.... Okay, it does, but, whatever...

I like zombies.


Well, I've wasted enough of your time. Off with you!

Sunday, July 24, 2005

Is It Hot In Here, Or Is 'Here' Even What I Think It Is Considering I'm Hallucinating From This Ungodly Heat?

UPDATE: Now that I've had a chance to cool off a little and regain some sense of reality, I've added the proper temperatures and measurements. Hope this helps you... get through the day... or whatever. Anyway, carry on. With life in general.

It's rather hot here in Kenosha, Wisconsin. The temperature is about 97F (36C), but with other factors it's said to feel like 112F (44C). I wouldn't really know as my skin melted off minutes ago. Or maybe that was just more hallucination? Oh, there's a gorilla. He's asking me to watch him dance. "Watch me! Watch me! Andy, you're not watching!" he whines.

And, of course, now my DVD's are sprouting arms and legs and running wild around my room. Swingers just clotheslined Anchorman and now they're duking it out on my bed.

The Yoda doll on my desk jumps onto my shoulder and tells me it's time to take my vitamin. It's 1:00PM. That's odd, usually the Yoda doll does that at 12:00PM. Very strange. I see the heat is affecting everything.

I may have just soiled myself. Oh, no, that's just more hallucination. The lower part of my body just turned into a roaring river, running down to my floor. I figured I had just wet myself. Thank goodness. And now the water on the floor is turning all metallic and it's morphed into some kind of looking glass, a portal to another world.

So, I'm gonna go ahead and have a look. Yoda's telling me not to go, but the DVD's are cheering me on. I wonder if this world has air conditioning.

I reach for the portal, but it closes on me. The metallic liquid slides across my floor and up my wall. It forms a nice mirror on my door. It's elaborately designed, a bright and brilliant silver, jewel-encrusted. I walk up closer. Oh, there's a tag on a string here. Someone's written something on the back.

Dear Andy,
Even if you didn't watch my dancing, I still love you. Here's a gift to show how much I appreciate you.

The Dancing Gorilla

Aw, isn't that sweet? Even on these ungodly hot days, man and gorilla can come together in peace. Oh, now the DVD's are jealous. Here they come. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, stop it! What did I tell you about sitting on top of the stereo, Blade Runner.

DVD's will be DVD's, right? Yoda, help me out here.

Saturday, July 16, 2005

Oh, Wal-Mart...

We went at midnight to retrieve the latest Harry Potter book (He's reading for fun! GET'EM!). Barnes & Noble was just too much of a mad house. So, we compromised our beliefs for one night and traveled to Wal-Mart.

I never shop at Wal-Mart. And tonight, I was reminded of why — besides the poor treatment of labor. It's the small things. Things like merchandise, employees, and customers. Little stuff. It's buying a dress shirt, walking five feet, buying some Funyuns, turning around, and getting some custom dog tags from a vending machine.

There are far too many sleeveless customers. Male and female. And none of them just came from the gym or from a basketball pick-up game. Let's keep in mind that it was after midnight, so I suppose the sleeveless crowd is more awake at that time. The guy in front of us was buying a grill. At midnight. And also Cheetos and pudding. His sleeves were all there, but I suspect if you're buying a grill at 12:00AM on a Friday night, then there are bodies in your freezer that need to disappear. Or else you were in the mood for Cheetos and pudding and you figured two birds with one stone. "Hey, I've got some bodies in the freezer... do they sell grills here, too?" Indeed they do, friend. Indeed they do.

And then the employees. Most of whom I assume are very nice people. I don't think there is really a dress code at Wal-Mart, except for the blue vest which dons the store name. I always thought, being young and having summer jobs, "Cool, Wal-Mart is a relaxed place to work." But, as you get older, those little things about a store start becoming more important. And when you see tie-dye and Wal-Mart vest, you run to the next check-out lane. And when you see plaid Grunge shirt and Wal-Mart vest, you run to the next check-out lane. And when you see "Real Men Wear Pink" tee and Wal-Mart vest, you run to the next check-out lane. And when you see wife-beater and Wal-Mart vest, you run to the next check-out lane. And when you see naked torso and Wal-Mart vest, you run out of the store all together.

This all took place at a Wal-Mart I had never been to. The Wal-Mart in my area is probably worse. I never like going in there because it literally looks like a war zone. Merchandise is haphazardly strewn about the aisles. No one is picking it up, only kicking it around to different aisles. The kids are wandering around unsupervised. I once saw children chasing each other through the store with bats. Not wiffle-ball bats. Wood and aluminum bats.

People are fighting over merchandise and bags of chips and packages of cookies are on the floor. And the employees at this Wal-Mart. Walk into this Wal-Mart, pick up something off the ground, and place it back where it's supposed to go. You now outrank a Wal-Mart employee.

Seriously, a war zone. As I stood there, waiting to pay for my book, I just stared at the dog tag vending machine. That's why they have these here. It's not for the fun or novelty, it's for identification later on when the police show up.


The Chief scans the scene at the local Wal-Mart. "Man alive! Let's just hope there are survivors who can tell us what happened here."

"Why not just check the security cameras?" says a rookie officer.

The Chief holds up the newspaper of this week's deals at Wal-Mart. SECURITY CAMERAS $21.66. "Someone probably thought it was for sale and took it all out."

"My god," says the rookie.

"Well, let's get to work," says the Chief. "You know the drill. Dog tag vending machine records. Start ID'ing the bodies."


Monday, July 11, 2005

Three Of Five Random Thoughts

#3 Automatic Doors

This anecdote doesn't paint the most flattering picture of me. In fact, you might even say it makes me look like a complete ass. In fact, you don't even have to say it. Because, in fact, I just did. In fact.*

I was shopping at a Target store a while back with my sister. We left the store through separate doors. As I exited, I thought I was going through an automatic door. I stood there in front of the door for a good five seconds, staring at the door, thinking that it was probably one of those automatic doors with a delay.

You know what I'm talking about? You go to a door, an automatic door, and when it doesn't open right away you think it's just a regular door, so you extend your hand to push it open and suddenly it flies open automatically. It's delayed just enough so that everyone in the store has had ample time to see you extend your hand. And when it opens automatically you are officially an ass in the eyes of all.

Anyway, this door turned out to be just a regular door. I sat there waiting for it to open by itself. When it didn't, and I finally understood, I awkwardly pretended that I was standing there, intentionally not opening it, for some legitimate reason.

I don't think I had ever seen my sister laugh so hard in my entire life. I killed my sister later that day. No, I didn't. But that would have been pretty funny. No, no... I guess it wouldn't be that funny. Well, not "Ha Ha" funny, anyway.


So, I went to Target, the store franchise I own, to do some shopping. Well, more like to take things off the shelves, intimidate employees with my title, and then leave without paying. With my drop-dead gorgeous -- yet funny and intellectually stimulating -- girlfriend on one arm and the other arm pointing at the young cashier who would be bending to my will and carrying the merchadise out to my Harrier jet, I exited the store through the automatic door. It opened precisely as I was approaching, such that I need not have altered my pace even slightly. Then as we lifted off, I used my superpowers to wipe the minds of all the employees working the store and all the police shooting at my jet. And then, just 'cause, my fictitious girlfriend and I ejected from the jet, destroying thousands of dollars worth of merchandise. I removed my parachute in mid air and then flew over to grab my fictitious girlfriend. We flew away into the sunset. That's right. I have the gift of flight. I don't need any jet at all.

* In fact.

Thursday, July 07, 2005

Two Of Five Random Thoughts

#2 The Male Genitalia

One day while I was driving, I pulled up to a red light. Alongside my car was a man in a suped-up Fast and the Furious-inspired shitbox. As we sat and waited for the light to go green, he began to slowly crawl as if anticipating the light change.

I could tell he wanted to get ahead of me.

I gripped the wheel a bit tighter than usual. Something inside me wanted to beat this asshole. The light turned green, and I got the quick jump ahead. I felt a rush of masculinity wash over me. But, alas, my victory was short-lived. And, in a matter of a few seconds, he accelerated and quickly overtook me. And do you know why he beat me?

Because his penis is bigger than my penis.*

* His penis is not bigger than my penis! That would be truly absurd! Hahahehehehhe... *cough*

Saturday, July 02, 2005

O'Connor Retires From U.S. Supreme Court

Sandra Day O'Connor announced Friday that she would be retiring from her position on the highest court in the land. President Reagan nominated her as an Associate Justice of the Supreme Court, and she took her seat September 25, 1981. O'Connor is the first female to ever sit as a U.S. Supreme Court Justice. It was quite an event. She was a pioneer, truly. And, now, there are no more women on the U.S. Supreme Court

"But what about Ruth Bader Gins—"

Yep. Not a single woman among them.

Replacing retired Supreme Court Justices has been an issue since President Bush took office. The group, as it stood (pre-O'Connor retirement), was fairly balanced politically, so one judge was usually the tiebreaker when it came to voting. That judge was often Sandra Day O'Connor, or "Judgment Day" as she was called by her associates. They also called her Sandra "I'm looking for Sarah" O'Connor. Oh, I could go all night, folks.

Did you know the favorite movie of the U.S. Supreme Court (voted 5 to 4) is Terminator 2: Judgment Day? The other choices were Philadelphia, starring Tom Hanks, and My Cousin Vinnie, starring Joe Pesci. But the majority of the group hates when Justice Clarence Thomas annoyingly critiques the law aspects of films, so they chose a film that contains judgment, but no courtroom scenes.

"Heh-heh, that will never fly, heh-heh, in a lower appellate court, buddy, but really, good luck with that!" Justice Thomas says, chuckling. He lays on his stomach on the floor of the Justices' movie room. His hands support his head and occasionally shuffle popcorn into his mouth. His feet flop around in the air behind him. The other Justices look at one another, rolling their eyes and hating.

O'Connor was a voice of "middle-of-the-road" reason when compared to other Supreme Court Justices, like say — oh I don't know — Justice Antonin Scalia, who is consider by most to be a far-right-wing-leaning judge. Here he is...

Image Hosted by

Replacing O'Connor is a big deal. Choosing a judge too far left or right could easily sway many rulings and alter key decisions of the past. It's President Bush's job to nominate the Justice who will take O'Connor's place. And I think, given the track record of this administration, that he will only be looking out for the best "folks" for the job.

Because of my many connections working in the government and whatnot, I was able to attain pictures and names of President Bush's top choices for this prestigious position. These are straight from a White House meeting on the subject. Let's have a look...

Image Hosted by
Clarence Van Hoffenpuffle III
This guy could be okay, but, for some strange reason — I can't quite put my finger on it — he looks menacing.

Image Hosted by
Antonia Goldstein
My vote is for this person. It might be a good idea to replace O'Connor with another woman. Keep the female presence. Plus, look at the blonde hair. She's fucking hot.

Image Hosted by
Gene Browkowski
I think this guy is a highway patrolman who lives near me. Well, he must be qualified in some way if Bush is considering him for the job.

Anyway, it's sad to see O'Connor go, but I'm almost certain that one of these three possible nominees will take over her role as a middle-of-the-road thinker. I only hope that none of them turn out to be as right-leaning as, say, an Antonin Scalia. Heh, that wouldn't be very good.

Heh-heh... what?