tuesday rant - 5th edition

I wasn't going to do this. I told myself this crap didn't deserve the effort required to type it in. When my blood started boiling an hour ago I realized I didn't have a choice.

Josh Howard - you idiot.

In case you haven't heard, yet another overpaid, bloated ego, doesn't realize the chance he has been given athlete has shown his true colors and opened his stupid mouth. This alone should not be a shock, usually when this happens I simply shake my head and ignore it. Since I don't keep up with sports in general and more specifically I know nothing about professional basketball it usually has little impact on me other than pissing me off because I know that's all the news will talk about for a few days.

But this time, this time my friends, was different. This time the jackass of the day based his comments on the country by saying the following:

As the national anthem plays in the background, Howard approaches a camera and says: ``'The Star Spangled Banner' is going on right now. I don't even celebrate that shit. I'm black.

Apparently his excuse now is that he didn't know the camera was on and he doesn't know why he said that. I know why, because maybe it's actually how the bastard feels.

Does he have the right to say it? Yes. I think what pisses me off the most is when people use their freedom of speech against the same thing that provides them with that right. Don't like something the government does - say what you will about it. Don't like the war - hold up a sign and scream at the top of your lungs. Think you are entitled to something because of your race - wear a button and live your life being pissed off. As long as you stand up and show respect for the country that provides you with that right, I don't care.

For those who choose to exercise their freedom of speech against the Nation as a whole, I should remind you that I have the right to bear arms.

For you Josh Howard, I offer a ticket to the city I lived in. You will love Johannesburg, I promise after that you will tattoo the National Anthem on your bicep.

that fresh post vacation feeling

Does anyone else find the title of this post to be a little empty?

I know you may be saying - "Dude, you just got back from a week spent on the beach! You must feel so rested and ready to jump back into it".

Uh... no.

I know, I know. Bitching about post vacation crap may get me pelted by rotten fruit, but I can't help but think this is normal.

We had a great week in the Virgin Islands. By the way, St. Thomas is about as virgin as Madonna at an MTV awards after party. Someone needs to check the hymen on a few parts of the island cause I think maybe it's been screwing around in a backseat of a Chevy for the last 50 years or so. It's a pretty island, but some parts aren't what you would bring home to mom.

If you are planning a trip to the USVI, I recommend staying on St. John and taking the short ferry ride over to St. Thomas for the shopping when a cruise ship is in port. St. John is about 75% national park, it's what you picture in your head when you think of a Caribbean island and that picture my friends is gorgeous.

So, after:

1. drinking my weight in just about every rum based drink known to man
2. snorkeling everyday
3. dressing up meant wearing the good flip-flops
4. relaxing on near empty beaches looking out on sapphire colored water.

I find myself back to reality.

Apparently post vacation blues is rather common, I looked it up. Wikipedia offers a treatment of sharing photos with friends, so I'll offer the attached picture as "treatment" and maybe fix myself a drink with some of the duty-free/tax-free liquor we brought back.

A break means you can't wiggle it

A few months ago I wrote about how I worry more about what we learned as kids and what kids today are missing as a result of all this overprotection crap nowadays. In that post I talked about the kids playing on a swing set. Well, that post came true Friday while we were gone. Our 5yr old broke his arm in 2 places falling from... well, falling from a swing set down the street. Irony is a bitch ain't it.

Much like I wrote then, I hate to see the kid with a cast going up his arm but I hope with it came a new lesson about the effects of gravity.

and the 2nd edition winner is.....

Congratulations Angie! Your cool award is below, feel free to add it to your mantle.

I spent all night painting that sign on the beach again. I think the authorities are starting to get wise to me, they kept driving around in their yellow beach trucks. I had to distract them by saying I saw a Sports Illustrated photo shoot going on down at the end of the beach.

Angie's caption:

Billy Joe escaped from his stroller at the Redneck carnival yesterday. He mistakenly thought he found his mommy. The similiarities are striking.

Your Award:

The ultra cool - Cool Blog Award!

I realize this size, while perfect for framing, it may be too large for those with size challenges, so I included some wallet-sized versions below.

Enjoy!

missed it again - guest post

While I'm out on a much needed vacation to St. Thomas, I've asked my most talented sister to guest post for me. I'll be thinking of ya'll as I'm sitting naked on the beach with my feet in the sand and a beer in my hand.

Ya'll treat her right or when I get back we will need to have a talk ;)

Here's Tootsie:

Missed It Again

I’ll be the first to admit that I am truly demented.

When I see a border-line category 3 hurricane two-thirds the size of the Gulf of Mexico making a bee line for the Texas coast, just like everyone else, I react in utter horror thinking of the potential loss in life and property. . . .sigh. . . Did I say I’m a liar, too? (Standing up) My name is Tootsie, and I’m a natural disaster junkie.

When my family and I moved to Houston from Austin in 2005, I was ecstatic. 95% of my joy was from getting away from Austin traffic and environmental elitists, and the rest of my twisted self just wanted to be in a hurricane. FINALLY my chance had come! My husband moved before the rest of us did, right before Rita—the category-3 Katrina wanna-be. Guess what I made him do? I’m ashamed. (Standing up) My name is Tootsie, and I made my husband take a 21-hour trek from Houston to Austin to miss the event of his life . . . which ended up not hitting Houston anyway.

He hasn’t let me forget it.

Two years went by in Houston, and we finally got lucky. I was so excited I couldn’t stand it. I was working at an elementary school, and an announcement came over the intercom. The principal told everyone that we were getting out early due to the hurricane that was expected to hit later that evening. What?! WHAT???!!!

Hurricane Humberto had developed off the coast of Texas over the course of just a few hours and was headed straight for Houston. YES!!!! Just a cat 1. But hey, I’m easy to please. Bring it on!!!

I run home, turn on the TV, and wait. And wait. And wait. Nothing. Humberto turned just slightly right and GRAZED Houston. GRAZED us. Not even a drop of water. Not even a leaf blew across my doorstep. I moped for a week.

About two months ago we moved to San Antonio. Mother Nature made real sure we were good and gone before she brought on Ike. Missed it again.

I was on the phone with my best friend, who lives in Houston, for a good part of the night while Ike tore through the city. As the winds started to pick up pretty heavy, I asked her if she was freaking out yet. She replied, “Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting all day for this!” Me too—she and I are two of a kind. I lived vicariously through her on the phone all night. Sadly, that’s probably as close as I’ll ever get to a hurricane.

For the record, as disappointed as I am that Ike turned out to be so boring (i.e. that Galveston is not the new Atlantis), I am glad that those 2000+ idiots who stayed on the island facing “imminent death” are still alive to talk about it. Although, if Ike had fulfilled its potential, the gene pool would have about 2000 fewer idiots in its mix, media included. Did anyone see Geraldo reporting that night? Gracious, that idiot would have been the first to go.

But honestly, if I were a reporter for the Weather Channel, I probably would have been right there front and center. “Back to you, Jim Cantori.”

dude, caption this

I've been wanting to do this for some time now. I checked my magic 8-ball today and it said now was the time. Actually it said "concentrate and try again" but that damn thing has been saying that to every question I ask it, so screw it.

Want to win a cool award ~and~ have your name posted in lights? Then I have the deal for you!

I'm looking for the best caption to the image below. Leave your caption in the comments and Thursday night I'll choose the winner and post that on Friday (along with the award).

Make it good, I'll be using my magic 8-ball to help me decide ;)

Good luck!

tuesday rant - 4th edition

Ok, I've sat for the last 10 minutes in a dark room doing deep breathing exercises.

Evacuate now or risk certain death.

What part of that sounds like maybe you should leave if you get time? Perhaps if you weren't doing anything special you could maybe join us as we drive north.

No, they said if you stay be sure to write your social security on your body with a Sharpie so identifying the body will be easier. Any questions?

Don't have the money to leave? They took care of that. Don't think the storm will hit you? Walk the hell outside, see the beach? It'll hit you. I realize many of you haven't been to Galveston Island. Picture a big sand bar that maybe rises 15 feet above the water - that's it.

It's not the staying that gets me. It's the staying and then asking people to risk their life to rescue your ass. I can actually understand how someone would want to stay. To me the thought of leaving my home and not knowing what was going to be there when I got back is almost as bad as the storm itself. However, I would be taking that risk upon myself. I would hold one person accountable - me.

It's estimated that some 40 percent of Galveston’s 58,000 residents chose to ride out the storm. Guess what most did Friday before the storm even hit? Yep, they desperately called 911 trying to get rescued. The response was what they said it would be; how long can you tread water?

I read this today:
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Five-year-old Jack King escaped serious injury when storm surge sent a rush of water that washed out the first floor of his family's Galveston home just two blocks from the bay. As rescuers arrived, Jack gazed at a TV aglow with "The Simpsons." The only evidence of his fall was a Band-Aid plastered to his closely-cropped hair, covering a gash.

"We just didn't think it was going to come up like this," said the boy's father, Lee King. "I'm from New Orleans, I know better. I just didn't think it was going to happen."
-----------------------------------------------------

Didn't think it was going to happen? Here's a thought, turn off the son-of-a-bitch'n Simpsons and tune into the news, asshole.

1) They should be evacuated
2) Mr. King should be arrested for child endangerment and being an idiot.

Turns out the generator he was using was provided to him by FEMA in the last hurricane. This makes him a professional idiot.

Ok, feeling a little better now.

If I start hearing someone complaining and blaming the government for not sending out a BlackHawk to pick up their ass for 3 days I'm going to make a trip south.

To the residents of South Texas (and I know several of you- damn good people), my thoughts are with you.

Next week I'm out on vacation but I've asked my little sis, Tootsie, to fill in for me on a post. I hear tell she has a unique perspective to this she would like to share. Catch her this Saturday.

awards day here at dad-thedude headquarters

Time for a little housekeeping, with Ike knocking on our door, needing to get a haircut and take out the trash I've slipped in my duties the past couple of days.

I would like to thank the Academy and to all those who didn't believe in me... well, you were in good company.

To my high school english teacher who considered it sport to flunk me over and over again, I say - thank god for spell-check, huh?

To my typing teacher who never figured out why every typewriter I sat at suddenly didn't work, I say - check the springs on the keyboard next time. Thanks for having me just read the typing book, that helped...

Everyone grab a glass of champagne. I would like to the toast the following:

Lisa's Twisted Blog

Lisa is apparently more twisted than anyone actually knew, because in her twistedness she presented me with the Arte y pico. I've never won an award before, but now I've not only won one I've won an international one with a cool name. Thanks Lisa!

This award recognizes a blog's creativity & overall contribution to the blogger community.
The original Arte y pico site is here (my spanish sucks btw).

Here are the rules once you receive this award:

1.) Choose 5 blogs that you consider deserving of this award based on creativity, design, interesting material & overall contribution to the blogger community.

2.) Post the name of the author & a link to his or her blog so everyone can view it.

3.) Each award winner has to show the award & put the name & link to the blog that has given him or her the award

4.) The award winner & presenter should post the link of the "Arte y pico" blog so everyone will know the origin of the award.

5.) Post these rules

I hereby nominate the following sites in return:

The Soccer Mom Files - one of the first blogs I started reading when this whole thing started.

It's a Funny Thing - Don cracks me up when I need it most and he just posted a cover of Playboy which is sure to get me to return to his blog often.

A Guys Guide to Oprah - yea, you read that right. Oprah reviewed the way it should be.

The Humor Smith Chronicle - I steal this guys ideas all the time.

Beyond Left Field - smart people shouldn't blog unless they link to me.

Speaking of Beyond Left Field...

He screwed up and nominated me for the Brillante Weblog - Premio-2009

1) The award may be displayed on a winners' blog.
2) Add a link to the person who you received the award from.
3) Nominate up to 7 other blogs.
4) Add their links to your blog.
5) Send a message to each of those you nominated notifying them of the award.

I hereby present this award to the following well deserving bloggers:

Debbie Does Drivel

Life Just Keeps Getting Weirder

Wits Bitch

Magick Sandwich

WannaSmile

Ryan Garns.com

The Lost News

Angie over at Keep Believing is drunk posting.

Only reason I can think of that she would nominate me for the Sunny, Happy, Funny award. For the record I'm one out of the three. Thanks Angie!

Crotchety Old Man Yells at Cars

Has presented me with the coveted Zucchini Award.

Thanks dude!

we remember

Baker Company, with the 7th Marines, 1st Battalion in Iraq, to honor the victims
of the September 11 terrorist attacks on the U.S.

GOD BLESS THE USA

SEMPER FI

tuesday rant - 3rd edition

Pretentious people.

Want to see me come unglued and start having uncontrollable eye twitches? Make me spend ANY amount of time with someone who either thinks or acts like they are better than anyone else because they went to a better school (or any school) or have a bigger house or a better job or they got to see Journey on tour and sat in the front row.

I don't believe I would ever get to the point of physical assault. I may consider it; there have been times in the past when I thought how nice it would be to feel their bones crush. But no, for me I've found the best way to deal with these people is to ensure their complete undoing.

How you ask? Simple. These people have one chink in their crappy armor. Themselves.

Instead of ignoring them or popping them in the temple like I want to, I pull them closer. Keep them talking. For these people every word out of their mouth is yet another dent in the hard exterior shell that covers their soft yellow underbelly. I've been known to keep doing this for months on end until I find a weak spot. Once this is located, I exploit the crap out of it to my complete and utter enjoyment.

Case in point:

Recently, I traveled on business where I was required to attend a dinner meeting with a guy who is ranked on page one of my pretentious log. Being from the south and specifically from Texas I was apparently well below his status level and he made no attempt to mask it. For me this caused a large set of crosshairs to appear on his forehead.

There were maybe 200 restaurants within a 10 mile radius of where we were located. Now, where would you take a backwoods guy from Texas if you really wanted to show him how big you were... hmmm... Sushi! Take him to eat Sushi and talk about how you just love to eat with chopsticks. That would be GREAT!

Wrong asshole. What this pretentious prick didn't realize is that I spent close to 3 years living in Japan. I've been there. I speak-a-da language.

I said nothing, even when he made the comment that he hoped I would enjoy it and not think it was bait. "I'll try anything" I said with a smile, thinking of how much fun this was going to be.

I sat in the restaurant listening to this prick talk endlessly about how much he enjoyed this particular place (a stereotypically bad example of a Japanese-like upscale restaurant). I fumbled with my chopsticks and stared at the menu like I was going to need a burger later.

Finally when the waiter appeared and this prick sat up to order... I asked in Japanese if the waiter spoke Japanese (he did- at least as well as I did) and I proceeded to order. I even ordered a drink for the idiot next to me (still in Japanese) which the waiter considered quite funny.

I occasionally think of the look on his pretentious little face at that moment. Hey, what’s that... looks like you have a chink in your armor right there...

the time Jimmy cut off my arms

Jim Beam and I used to be bro's. We used to hang out together and see how far we could push each other. He usually won, but after a couple of weeks I'd forgive and forget (mainly forget) and invite him back over for another round.

That is until the day he cut off my arms.

Like how most "I cut off my arms" stories begin, it happened when I went to a bachelor party.

By all accounts this was a very tame bachelor’s party at the house of a friend near Lubbock, Texas, as I recall there were no strippers, donkeys, cheerleaders or blow-up dolls. There may have been all of the above, but that would have been after Jimmy and I left (aka: passed out).

We were drinking Jim Beam mixed with coke, until we realized that was slowing us down so we started drinking it straight, over ice. After a bit we realized pouring it into a glass was stupid because we could just drink it right from the bottle and have an extra hand free to give everyone high fives and put in the best damn drinking music available, that being David Allen Coe; you don't have to call me darlin'... darlin'. This is after all the national anthem of almost any party in Texas.

As the night progressed I slowly started to realize that the guy sitting in front of me had grown a twin who was now sitting right beside him wearing the same clothes. Whenever these guys (or guy) talked I had trouble trying to figure out which one to look at. I noticed by closing one eye, the twin would disappear and if I held my head to the side it was much better. I was certain nobody noticed the head tilt or drool.

Apparently, I may have exceeded the known limits of consumption because that is the last fuzzy memory I have of that night.

I woke up in a fog the next morning on a couch and start looking around the room when I realized I didn't have any arms. Let me repeat that, MY DAMN ARMS WERE GONE! SOMEONE HAD CUT OFF MY SON-OF-A-BITCH-N ARMS! I couldn't feel them. I couldn't move them. I couldn't see them. Crap! I laid there for a bit trying to recall the previous night and at what point my arms got cut off. Maybe one of the twins would know.

Now as anyone who wakes up on a couch with no arms knows, the logical thing is to attempt a full gainer off the couch onto the floor - tada. After I did a face plant on the floor I found my lifeless, completely useless and numb appendages hanging there where they were supposed to be all along. I had passed out with my arms up over and behind my head.

Jimmy Bean, you sir are the devils water.

I'm sticking with Tequila from now on. I'd like to introduce you to my new friend Jose. Jose, say a few words to the kind readers. "Helo, my name iz Jose. I hear to maka 'da dad-da-dude thinks he maybe ok when in truth he will be dancing nakid on 'da tables and how you say... 'dinking he superman. ok. I go now".

Next round on me.

ass logo placement

There are some things I never thought I'd do. Never thought I would SCUBA dive. Check, did that. Never thought I would allow someone within 2 feet of the jewels with a scalpel. Check, did that. Never thought I would start a blog. Check, did that. Never thought I would stop drinking beer... ha, yea right.

I now add to that list - I never thought I would try to find a picture of a football players ass and put words on it. Today is indeed a red letter day.

Saw this story today:

-----------------------------------

Team dumps logo near buttocks after 70-0 loss

BOISE, Idaho - The Idaho Vandals football team is dumping the letter "I" from the buttocks region of players' new pants following a season-opening 70-0 loss to the Arizona Wildcats.

Rob Spears, the school's athletic director, says nobody realized just how the logo placed in the center of the players' behinds would look before they tried their pants on.
Spears told the Idaho Statesman the sewn-in University of Idaho logo has since been hastily removed by equipment managers after complaints

-----------------------------------------------------

I've posted before that I don't know much about football. This is painfully apparent now. Since when did football players start putting logo's on their ass? It's not even the logo of the other team (which I could understand), it's their OWN logo - on their ASS.

Seriously? Can you buy ass logo placement for the Super Bowl? If so, I'd love to see Hertz pitch for that deal.

Sunday 9/07/08:

By request I found an image of the actual ass logo. I submit it here and swear this is the last time I go on a hunt for images of football ass logos.

tuesday rant - 2nd edition

Ok. It's actually Wednesday... but since this was a holiday weekend I get a gimme. I was having too much fun this weekend trying to see if a jet ski could actually fly to think about writing a post.

Since I missed a day, I had an extra day for crap to build up. So this week’s rant is in two parts.

Before I get my rant on, I should make myself clear. I really don't care who you vote for. Much like religion and state sponsored torture; politics is a subject I avoid when at all possible.

Either way it goes in November, I'll still share a beer with you after it's all over. We can sit and bitch about whomever gets elected, it'll be great!

Today's Rant #1:
We had a saying in the Marines; Respect the rank, even if you don't respect the person. You don't have to agree with them, you don't have to like them, you don't have to hang out with them until the wee hours of the morning and make sure they don't piss on themselves in the front yard - but you do have to respect the rank.

The lack of respect for our president is amazing. I'm not going to argue that he didn't help matters much, but again - he is the president. I have and I will fight for anyone's right to free speech. Disagree with his politics - no problem. Think he couldn't give a speech at a 1st grade award ceremony - no problem. Think the buck stops with him for the bullshit in Iraq because there wasn't a post invasion plan - agreed.

But that doesn't mean you can disrespect the office.

Tuesday night he spoke live to the RNC. NBC tape delayed his speech by about a minute. Now since it was live he was reacting to the audience but in the tape delay they didn't include the sound of the audience. In his speech he paused when the audience was clapping but with the NBC feed it simply made him look like a blithering idiot pausing and smiling for no reason.

I think we can agree that he doesn't need help in this area.

I checked the other networks and they were including the sound of the audience. I'd like to think this was simply a technical error on the part of NBC, but my gut says it's just another example of disrespect for the office and that makes me want to blow the dust off my scope.

Today's Rant #2:
Finally someone has said it. Every time a series of things happen; be it weather, earthquakes, heat, cold, mudslides, forest fires, or an increase in the number of road kills I hear people saying it's global warming and "it's never been this bad". Guess what, if you look at something long enough you start seeing things that aren't there. It has been this bad, it's just that people weren't stacked up like cordwood creating a target-rich environment and CNN wasn't around to report on it for hours on end.

Do you find it odd that once something happens all you hear about for the next few weeks are reports related to the original event? Coincidence? Bad things come in 3's? No, the reason you hear about it and think it's suddenly a trend and then the reports fade into the next big thing is due to the media in their mad attempt to report something... anything and our innate desire to crave it.

Remember a month or so ago when all we talked about was the price of gas? You couldn't escape it. People were going nuts trading in their SUV's for anything that got more than 200 mpg. Where is that now? Has the energy crisis suddenly vanished? Nope, it's still there and has been there for at least 30 years and will remain until we find a way to get my ass to work by fueling up with my damn water hose. The only thing that happened was the gas prices came down (which still screws with my head) and we needed something else to fuel our craving for "It's never been this bad before".