it comes in pints?

Goodbye to 2006

I already know this is going to be a disjointed, rambling, personal, melancholy post. Today I've been thinking a lot about the difference a year can make: a year ago I was still selling watches in the mall and was depressed close to the point of suicidal about never expecting to work as a lawyer ever again. I had to go to bed early on New Year's Eve because the store was open New Year's Day, even though half my coworkers would ultimately be sent home because they were so hung over or still drunk. That feels like a lifetime or more ago rather than a year.

I don't usually remember my dreams, but last night I had two that I do remember: each one woke me. They're the kind of dream you have to wake up from to shake off, to rid yourself of any lingering sense of their reality. And I also knew I had to write about them.

They were less surreal than how I guess one usually thinks of "nightmares." Each dream was about a woman, but no, they weren't sexual dreams. They were dreams about losing a friend. I have to be a bit vague here because while I don't think either reads the blog, others who do probably know who I'm talking about. One was someone I knew a long time ago, and lost touch with so thoroughly that I put all thought of even the possibility of reconnecting out of my mind, so was amazed to hear from her again right about the time I moved down to Florida; the other was someone I met more recently and who even more recently and suddenly was gone, not exactly from my life, but certainly from immediate reach if that makes any sense. They're both people I care for, and each dream was about them departing forever in devastating anger.

Why I feel compelled to write about this may be because that's something I fear deeply. I know it must not be rational, but I do. I've made so many friends here, and I fear losing each of them, of you all, as well. I love my new job, but it's also taken me away from being able to post nearly as much as I'd like to, and that I regret. Logically I know that couldn't possibly drive anyone away, but as crazy as I know it is, there's a part of me that dreads it anyway. So my New Year's Resolution is to blog more again. I'm grateful to Emily and Ken for being the two best co-bloggers anyone could ask for, but they shouldn't be having all the fun.

Dog people vs. cat people

It's true. There are dog people and cat people, and they tend not to mix.

I'm a dog person. I rarely have much affinity for cats. But, and I will be the first to admit it, there are exceptions.

Anybody else in the mood for some swing music?

Well good

Iraqi TV says Saddam Hussein executed

As long as it's not just some stupid rumor like that Arafat crap.

UPDATE: BWAHAHAHA! "Cut him some slack"!

The Friday Fuck Off Thread

2006 brought a new tradition to our tiny little joint here - the Friday Fuck Off Thread. I just started a random bitching post one Friday last August and invited y'all to join in. You did. And you enjoyed it so much, I've felt obligated to host it every week since. It's been a blast. I hope it stays that way.

So, it is with a toast to the new year and with all of my best wishes for great things to come, I give you the Friday Fuck Off Thread Best of 2006.

Happy new year. Keep on bitchin'.

"People who act all superior 'cos they don't shop at Wal-Mart, or don't use the air conditioning in their house, or ride a bike (double *sshole points for the recumbent-bike evangelists) instead of driving a car, and spend excessive amounts of time telling you why you should do as they do, or else the world will come to an end. Guess what? My only grocery choices other than wal-mart are a store that sells overpriced food that's dangerously close to its expiration date, or an hour's round trip drive to get to a Kroger. Deal with the fact that we don't ALL live in SuperConvenienceLand where there's a Whole Froods within a recumbent-bike-ride of your non-airconditioned apartment."

-Ricki, August 18.

"Renaissance Fair people. These people think that because every weekend they dress up in old-fashioned garb, eat with their fingers, joust, and say things like "m'lady" - they have an in-road to the deeper meaning of life. Seriously. Those people who take Ren Fairs seriously are, in my experience, some of the most obnoxious and pretentious people ON THE FACE OF THE PLANET. I have casual friends who do Ren Fairs every weekend and they always want me to come and ... sorry, peeps, no feckin' WAY. Spare me. I enjoy PROGRESS, I enjoy TECHNOLOGY. And no, my name is not 'm'lady'. My name is SHEILA. THANKS."

-Sheila, August 18

"How about another old favorite just because it came up again recently for me? Those people who think they have changed the world because they went and saw a particular movie. Or those that think we have a duty to the universe to see certain movies. Fuck off."

-"notmarc," August 18

"Star Jones, fuck off.
Rosie O'Donnell, fuck off.
Fans of Star Jones or Rosie O'Donnell, fuck off.

Anyone having anything to do with the little dead girl who won't go away, fuck off. She's been gone for a decade. You should be gone too. Now fuck off.

New rap acts, fuck off. Your so-called music sucks like a tornado in a trailer park.

Whiners, fuck off. And stop whining. But mostly fuck off.

I feel better now."

-Keith, August 25

"The neighbor kid, and the neighbor kid's parents are invited to Fuck Off.

Honestly. Is there really any need to hit the metal railings to the steps with a red whiffle ball bat over and over and over again, AND Sing while doing it? It was kinda funny the first time. Annoying the Third. This the fifth or sixth time it's happened, I say: Stop it before you are made to eat your red whiffle ball bat."

-Tommy, August 25

"Everyone can FUCK-OFF!!! Everyone!!

Thank you. I feel better now."

-"angryattheworld," August 25

"Fuck off to the geniuses in Northwest Airline's flight attendants' union who still think it will help their cause if they randomly delay flights and/or strike. 'cause we'll sure feel compassionate while we're sitting even longer than usual in the airport (or, you know, homicidal). "

-Steve G., August 25

"1. May God damn every religious fundamentalist to Hell.
2. May the shit of a thousand asses fall on the heads of all particle brain noise people.
3. Screw with extreme prejudice everything that divides people into 'us' and 'them'. (Listen to John Lennon's 'Imagine' for further details)"

-steve on the mountain, September 1

"Every fucking time I walk down the sidewalk I get behind 2 fat assholes who have to waddle sidebyside down the middle of the sidewalk and completely block it. Look, it's ok to be fat. It's ok to walk slowly.

But move the fuck over and let those of us who are not in the running to replace Pluto get on with our lives! fuck off."

-Mr. Bingley, September 1

"1. My left ovary. Hey, ovary? I don't need you anymore, so why don't you quit trying to expel yourself from my abdomen and just dry up and fuck off?

2. The guy who tailgated me all the way back from Target AFTER cutting off the guy behind me and then flipping him off--dude? YOU are the asshole. You don't get to be the flip-er of the bird in that situation, you get to be the flip-ee. So man up, own your assholitude, deal with the fact that the guy behind you who had to slam on his breaks on wet pavement in a TROPICAL STORM has every right to shoot you the bird, and fuck off."

-BAW, September 1

"People who spend every waking minute looking for things to be OUTRAGED! about. Go get some fucking ice cream or something and fuck off."

-Marc, September 8

"For all the people who fail to pull over for emergency vehicles, and especially those who use the fact that the rest of us are being respectful to pass us before we can pull back onto the street: FUCK OFF!!!! Those flashy lights and woo-woo sounds MEAN SOMETHING. I hope you have an aneurism, and I hope the ambulance carrying you gets stuck in traffic."

-Brian B, September 8

"Tennis players that have to grunt every point. Fuck you. You have ruined a perfectly elegant physical skilful sport. The crowd keeps quiet so should you. Tennis Authorities should have stopped it the first time anyone grunted, who was that anyway? Fuck the Tennis authorities too."

-colin, Sepetmeber 8

"Hey gang, I have great news!

Our long national nightmare is over! Let's all breathe a huge sigh of relief...Lindsey Lohan's stolen purse has been found!

Ya know what...it feels like September 8, 2001 again."

-Mumblix Grumph, September 8

"Yeah, Mublix & Emily... Lindsay-Fucking-Firecrotch-Save-The-Fucking-Firecrotch-From-Brandon-Shitbird-Davis-And-Paris-The-Black-Hole-Vagina-Hilton-No-Actually-Save-Her-Ass-From-Her-Fucking-Scary-Ass-Mother-Lohan... what the fucking fuck was she doing with $1 million worth of shit in her Hermes bag? I bet you anything she went into the airport bathroom to pack her nose (with coke her mother gave her) and left that behemoth CAN'T YOU SEE THIS GIGANTIC BIRKIN, IT'S ORANGE?! bag in the bathroom stall. And then wigged out. Because that's what the Bolivian Marching Powder does to your ass, bitch. Makes you freak out and lose shit. $1 million worth of shit. Well thank fucking Xenu, it's been found, because my ass was UP ALL FUCKING NIGHT pacing the floor, grinding my teeth with worry over that mess. Not. FUCK. OFF. Lohan. But before you do that? DON'T grow up. Wind the clock back to age 12 and have a fucking childhood. And hopefully you won't Menendez your sicko mother."

-Susanna, September 8

"Clothing companies who refuse to acknowledge that most women in their 30s and 40s want more options in our apparel than 'hooker' or 'grandma.' Seriously. Fuck off."

-Lisa, September 15

"Kiwis - fuck off you harry peices of shit."

-Hoodlumman, September 15 (hahaha. I can't get over this one. Somebody actually told a piece of fruit to fuck off.)

"Drivers that think it is big and/or clever to try and squish past cyclists when there very clearly isn't room (at least not without making a f*cking good attempt to kill the cyclist).

They can fuck off.

Especially when they only have to wait about 3 secs for the car coming the other way to pass so that the other side of the road is completely clear and they can leave you alone.

They can fuck off and die.

And when they just have to push past you in this manner so that they can get to the end of the line of static traffic waiting at the lights ahead just 50 yds away.

They can fuck off and die. With knobs on."

-The Pedant-General, September 22 (this was the first appearance of our now- favorite "with knobs on" expression.)

"The pissant little motherfucker in the pissant little fucking beamer who passed me and about five cars on a two lane road before getting back in the lane one car two late and forced the guy coming in the other direction onto the shoulder to avoid a headon can FUCK OFF.

AND DIE.

WITH KNOBS ON.

AND WITH CHEESE.

TOODLE FUCKING PIP, MOTHERFUCKER.

In fact beamer owners in general can fuck off. There is no car brand* on the road being driven by more arrogant, self-righteous assholes.

*Porsche owners are just about as bad, but there aren't as many."

-Our very own Ken S., September 22

"To those bastards that call your office at least 5 times a day with a prerecorded message saying something like:

'Hi! You'll be delighted to know that youve been chosen...blah blah blah'

FUCK your prerecorded little calling machine fucking thing the FUCK OFF.

To those stupid ass email spammers that even contemplate thinking about even contemplating the thought that ANYONE IN THEIR RIGHT MIND would apply for a MORTGATE through a spam email titled "Hello, this is Peter."

FUCK THE FUCK OFF YOU FUCKING FUCKS."

-Val, September 29

"Although it's been said, many times, many ways...

People who weave in and out of traffic as if filming an episode of Miami Vice and then flip US the bird as if we're the problem - fuck off.

Add knobs if offender is on a cel phone, or cracking the pavement with 165 dB of heavy-bass hip-hop cursing."

-Nightfly, September 29

"To the fucking dry cleaner that serviced the shirt I put on this morningin a hurry only to have the buttons turn to fucking sand in my fingers: FUCK THE FUCK OFF YOU FUCKING BUTTON BURNING FUCKER! With an extra added FUCK THE FUCK OFF for not understanding what the FUCK light starch means. I need to be able to move my arms when Im wearing a shirt you FUCKING OVERSTARCHING FUCKER!"

-Val, October 6

"Fuck the flu. Just fuck it. And to the asshole that brought this particular strain to the office (even though the incubation period on this one is so long I'm sure the poor fucker didn't know he was sick until it was too late), fuck you too.

And to the one that KEEPS coming to work spreading your fucking contagion, being a stupid fucking martyr because you imagine the place is going to fucking fall apart without you:

Fuck you. Fuck you HARD on the HOOD OF A HOT CAR."

-Shannon, October 6

"My shit ass neighbor that still has icicle christmas lights up on the eaves from 2004 that no longer work and who proceeded to add more lights in 2005 on the same eaves without removing the old icicle lights: FUCK THE FUCK OFF YOU LAZY ASS GHETTO FABULOUS MAKE EVERYONE'S PROPERTY VALUES DROP STUPID FUCKING FUCKHEAD OF A FUCKING FUCKTARD. And please, this year, dont leave your fucking brown Christmas tree out in the front lawn until fucking July, you FUCKING FUCK OF A FUCKING FUCK NEIGHBOR."

-Val, October 13

"The soda machine in the hallway can totally fuck off. It just stole 2 dollars from me and I still have no soda."

-Sheila, October 20

"To all those drivers that see fit to make a fucking uturn on my fucking lawn because youre too fucking dumb to fucking read the fucking roads signs while youre driving and thus always, ALWAYS, turn into my street when it clearly states 'NO THRU STREET' right on the fucking corner: FUCK THE FUCK OFF YOU GRASS KILLING, CANT UNDERSTAND THE MEANING OF A SIMPLE ROAD SIGN I GOT MY DRIVER'S LISENCE WITH FOOD STAMPS ON EBAY DUMBASS MOTHERFUCKING MIAMI FUCKHEAD DRIVERS."

-Val, October 20

"Public Service Announcement to everyone who wants to grab my guns, or raise my taxes while telling me that you're doing it "for the common good": please be advised that I own a gun and shovel.

Was that too subtle? Then fuck the fuck off."

-physics geek, October 20

"Madonna. Madonna can FUCK OFF. With big, splintery nails.

You don't just tootle down to the used-child lot and pick one out like it's a 1998 Nissan. You remind me of those people who buy baby chicks for their kids at Easter, knowing the poor thing won't live to see May, but it's just SOOO CUUUTE!

Next time you crucify yourself in concert, do some other child a favor and stay on that damn cross!"

-Joel, October 20

"FUCK OFF ...

You no driving, over cautious, under attentive, piece of shit used Oldsmobile driving mutha fucka! You almost had my car up your ass and then almost crashed into a classic Corvette -- a sin unforgivable by the car gods."

-Cullen, October 27

"I feel like Ive lost ten pounds."

-Val, October 27

"I figure, anybody that hasn't already done something to piss me off, will. So, everybody fuck off.

And have a great weekend."

-McGhee, November 3

"To my neighbor, who sees fit to mow his lawn and trim his trees and then blow all the leaves and twigs and fucking green LEAFY bullshit over to the front of my yard: FUCK THE FUCK OFF YOU FUCKING FUCK OF A FUCK. I have more FUCKING TREES THAN YOU, YOU LEAF BLOWING FUCKHOLE, AND A YARD TWICE YOU SIZE. GET READY TO RAKE SOME FUCKING SHIT YOU FUCKING TREE TRIMMING, LEAVE YOUR DEAD BROWN CHRISTMAS TREE IN THE FRONT LAWN TIL JULY SANFORD AND SON GHETTO FABULOUS TRASH COLLECTING PEA BRAINED FUCKING FUCK OF A FUCKING FUCKTARD. AND CLEAN YOU FUCKING CESSPOOL OF A POOL, FUCKER, BEFORE YOUR WIFE LEAVES YOU FOR A REAL MAN WITHOUT FUCKING MALARIA."

-Val, November 3

"Oh I should say - I include Jorge Presidente Bush in that Fuck Off to the Rockefeller Republicans. They were right, shit head. You ARE like your daddy. Not that I havent observed that before, but just like you are now executing every exit plan you can think of and ditching whatever pretense you had about appearing Republican, Im ditching whatever support I gave you in the past, support I gave because you at least gave the APPEARANCE of being a conservative. But then that's what it was all about, wasnt it?

I am now agreeing with those who called you out to begin with. Fuck you AND yo daddy. Guess you and he showed Reagan, didnt you? Look, Jorge, next time we get attacked, don't even bother going to the press with a statement. Just go clink the ice-cubes in your tumbler and chat up the nice elderly lady who was so faithful as the president of the local RNC Women's Chapter. She did SUCH good work in keeping out the undesirables!

Asshole. Santa Ana's ghost is cavorting on the San Jacinto prairie right now, happy to see you complete his work. Thanks a fucking million. Fuck off."

-Sharon Ferguson, November 10

"To those people that refuse to leave their beloved little dogs at home even for five minutes and thus drive around town with their little poodles or whatver little runt dog they have in their laps: FUCK THE FUCK OFF. While it may be nice to take little PookiePuff for a spin, you are endangering your pitiful self as well as everyone else around you. DOGS DONT FUCKING DRIVE, ASSWIPES and should you have an accident and your FUCKING AIRBAG DEPLOYS, CHANCES ARE YOUR NOSE WILL BE RIGHT UP POOKIEPUFFS BUTT, FUCKTARDS."

-Val, November 17

"FTFOAD to the bimbette ahead of me at Einstein Bros. this morning. I KNEW what I was getting - plain bagel w/shmear and water for the boy, yogurt and very large coffee for me. But I couldn't order because of YOU.

So FUCK OFF you FUCKTWAT, with your tiny running shorts, tiny running shirt and matching little fucking running shoes even though you obviously hadn't been running because you were trying to juggle your fucking car keys and your fucking pink cellphone. And FUCK your inane questions:

"Can I get cream cheese on that bagel? Oooh, maybe I should get it toasted? Is that coffee over there? What kinds are they?" At this point, she made the cashier READ THE FUCKING SIGNS OUT LOUD TO HER. "I guess I'll have two? Is that creamer? Do you have 1% milk instead? I don't know anything about coffee? Is that really Splenda? Can I get lowfat cream cheese instead?"

FUCK YOU. And fuck your parents, too, for reproducing and unleashing such a fucking imbecile on the world just so she could be in front of me this morning."

-Shannon, November 17

"Teachers can fuck off. (No offense Ricki). I have a documented disability. And I'm not very hardcore "This is what i deserve and nothing less" about it, but if you're goal is to get shitty with me about whether LARGE PRINT is something I really need to waste my time with arranging, I'm done being nice. When I give you 2 fucking copies of my papers to prove my issues and what I need and you LOSE both of them, you should just go play in traffic. Because now you're not only wasting my time, but if you end up fucking me over so I can't graduate in May things are going to get ugly."

-alli, December 1

"As for my fuck off this week - the Santa Ana winds can fuck right the hell off. I know it's a small price to pay for living this close to paradise, but fuck an eh, the winter version just fucking sucks ass. I was enjoying my Indian Summer and 85 degree thanksgiving. Then the fucking winds started blowing and the temp dropped a whole twenty degrees - fuck you Santa Anas - I don't care if you clear the smog out of the basin, fuck off. (is it wrong for me to be complaining that it's 65 degrees here in December?)"

-KG, December 1

"So my FUCK OFF is to all the ignorant assholes out there who can't stop and think long enough to realize that it doesn't serve anyone's purpose to bitch out a clerk/waitress/salesperson/cashier/etc. for something they have no control over. For fuck's sakes, if you have a complaint, take the time to make it properly to someone who can actually change the situation... hence... if you think not enough staff is on, then call up the MANAGER and tell THEM since THEY are the ones that control that. Bitching out the person who is already working under pressure because THERE ISN'T ENOUGH STAFF is going to help HOW? And if you don't save your receipt or your packaging, then FUCK OFF and don't blame the clerk for not being able to just take your lightbulb back on your word. It's not 1953 anymore and you're not buying a lightbulb from the "General Store" on Walton's Mountain. The clerk is just following rules... don't bitch at her. So... think before you speak and otherwise, FUCK OFF. "

-fracas, December 1

"FUCK chavez.

I'm good now."

-"Curious Feller," December 8

"I am going to write a very scholarly paper and it will be published in all the major scientific and medical journals. And I will win a MacArthur Genius Grant for it. The paper will prove that when a woman has PMS and is exerting superhuman determination NOT to scream, NOT to bitch, and NOT to burst into tears, because she doesn't want to inflict her misery on the innocent people around her, she nevertheless emits pheromones that cause one or more men around her to act like complete a-holes in a way they would not do ANY other day of the month. My mother mentioned this phenomenon when I was a teenager, and I thought she was imagining it. Nope."

-Laura(southernxyl), December 8

"To the inventor of the necktie, which is nothing more than a noose disguised as a fashion accessory.

To the inventor of potpourri, which is nothing more than confetti soaked with cheap perfume. Saddam Hussein probably dropped some of that stuff on the Kurds."

-Alan K. Henderson, December 8

"FOAD to people who back into parking spaces with their SUV's or Ford F9000 and can't even do it right, so they take up enough space for the freakin Titanic. Is exiting quickly *that* important to you that you take ten minutes maneuvering your land yacht into a compact space? What are you doing, skipping out on your bill? Sheesh, get a life."

-Julie, December 15

"To Mr. Hardware Store man: FUCK THE FUCK OFF YOU FUCKING STAPLER NAZI. IF I'D HAVE BROUGHT THE GOTTDAMNED FUCKING STAPLER I WOULD HAVE USED THE BRAND SPANKING NEW BOX OF STAPLES TO FUCKING STAPLE EVERY EXPOSED PORTION OF YOUR FUCKING LAZY ASS STAPLER NAZI SKIN, YOU FUCKING FUCK OF A FUCKING STAPLER BOGART MOTHERFUCKER. IT'S A FUCKING BOX OF STAPLES FOR CRISSAKES, NOT A FUCKING PACEMAKER."

-Val, December 15

"A big fuck you goes out to the fucking editor on the project I’m working on. Look bitch, if you don’t know what the hell you’re doing then please fuck off and let people who know do their job. And don’t think I don’t know that you’re making a fucking mint phoning in your performance while I’m sitting here on my underpaid ass cleaning up your fucking mess.

(Side note. My mom, who is originally from Japan, doesn’t understand why telling someone 'Fuck you!' is a bad thing. 'Doesn’t that mean you want to have sex with them???' Uh, no mom.)"

-riye, December 15

"Fuck off, Mike Nifong. Fuck off and die. I hope those three boys sue your sorry ass off and win and then you're left license-less and penniless and the bend-over bitch of some dude named Tiny.

Fuck the fuck off."

-Lisa, December 22

Happy New Year, everybody. Thanks for being a part of making this dumb little hobby so much fun.

Just for fun

No particular reason to think of it, but I something I used to have posted in the office sprang to mind this morning. You've probably seen it before.

The Five Stages of a Project:

1) Enthusiasm

2) Despair

3) Search for the guilty

4) Punishment of the innocent

5) Praise and honors for the non-participants

Milblogger down

But not out.

Our gratitude for your service cannot be expressed adequately, sir.

(Via Caltechgirl)

Goodnight, Gerry

Rest easy, Mr. President.

Jeebus jumped up criminy on a popsicle stick

JeffS is on my shitlist. Listen up, boy, next time you want to drop a link that has links to other links, please add a warning not to click on any link that has a freakin' picture of a nasty troll like that.

Heh heh heh

A vicious but amusing line from Ms. Dewey:

Arts: The last refuge of the mathematically challenged.

Snicker.

It looked fun so I stole it

Taking a chapter from the Bingster's book, here are a few names my spam filter caught.

Pagan Dan - I think I knew this guy in college.

Beebleness Q. Forebodings - Beebleness rarely bodes well.

Badmouthed P. Pokitico - I assume this means Pikachu is running for office

Bolden Q. Evelyn - Isn't that one of those yuppie stores at the mall?

Linkage O. Impanelling - I can do nothing with this one.

Nonnegotiable V. Rage - Even if you disagree, you have to admire the way he sticks to his principles.

Quadruplicating J. Sonja - Good grief, how many Sonjas do we need?

Mock S. Yuletides - Well, I've done a bit of that myself.

Ike - I used to like that guy. Too bad he became a spammer.

Merry Christmas

Best wishes to all of you.

Children

I'm surrounded by children. Yeah, well Happy Birthday young feller.

Oh, and that part about "no spankings"? Pussy.

Why I just love travelling on a busy day like this

As I noted below in the Friday Fuck-Off Thread, all the overpriced fast food places in this terminal at the Fort Lauderdale airport that fucking closed five seconds after I got through security can fucking fuck off and die. The dispatchers at Broward County Yellow Cab can fuck off for being generally rude fucking assholes. And as much as I usually love them, JetBlue can fuck off for being at least an hour late, which means I won't be in Boston until 1 in the morning.

At least this place has free wireless, which I suppose is some SMALL consolation. If not for that and my laptop I'm sure I'd literally be tearing my hair out.

Happy Holidays

Having just stuffed myself on the annual office Christmas spread from Chicago Ribs (oh, it is a thing of beauty that I have fantasies about for weeks before), I'm now off to have fun wrapping presents and watching the Mr. Hanky the Christmas Poo episode of "South Park" to put me in the mood.

I hope all of you and your families have a happy and safe holiday. If you don't celebrate it, just have a nice weekend. Ta for now.

With a Capital "B"

"They're just there to help," she said. "They're not there to brief anybody on what our religion is or anything."

BULLSHIT. Good for the local police for recognizing it for that much and giving these manipulative, opportunistic bastards the boot.

The Friday Fuck Off Thread

This week's FUCK OFF is dedicated to everyone who, like me, waits until the last minute to get all their Christmas shopping done but who, unlike me, goes about it acting like a disgruntled asshole who thinks they're being shafted because they were too fucking lazy to take care of things earlier when it wouldn't be such an enormous hassle. You are not the only one waiting in long lines and I am not standing in those lines to punish YOU personally. It is also not the fault of the retail workers, over-worked, under-paid and forced to cater to self-centered, rude fuckwads for hours on end and many of whom are just employed temporarily for the season and didn't exactly train in the Cashier Olympics before starting their job. If you can't plan ahead or look into just ordering your shit off Amazon, please don't take it out on everybody else.

Hey, 'tis the season to be jolly, but that doesn't mean some people still don't deserve a smack upside the head. The floor is yours. Merry fuckin' Christmas.

Year-end Inventory Sucks (Updated)

Okay, as promised, here is the story of my first year-end inventory. It's a long tale, and hidden in the extended entry.

In 1988, I was a reagent manufacturing supervisor for a medical device company. Our fiscal year ran June to June and I had been in the job for barely eight months when the year-end inventory came up. I am not a materials control person by nature or job, but since most materials people are not closely familiar with chemicals and biologicals, my department controlled its own inventory for the most part. Usually, this works out well but the downside, of course, is having to do inventory.

Inventory was, for some ungodly reason, scheduled for May 31, the day after the Memorial Day holiday. I don't know who scheduled it for that day but his soul will burn in Hell. I pushed my crew to finish all the monthly production early and we spent the week before the holiday weekend fixing the inventory. This wasn't a terrible task since the inventory was already pretty accurate, but never having been through it before and not knowing what to expect, I wanted it perfect. It was.

Anyhoo, we left work that Friday knowing life was good.

The family and I took off Saturday morning for the north country to visit family out at the ranch. We were in my Chevy S-10 pickup, club cab, which had jump seats behind the front seats. Daughter Number One was about three at the time, and was in the jump seat behind the passenger seat. Daughter Number Two was still in a car seat, being only about 8 months old, and that car seat had to be in the passenger seat. Sainted Bride was in the jump seat behind me.

About 10 or 12 miles from our destination, on a two-lane country highway, we topped a small hill. Coming in the other direction, uphill at us, were three cars on the other side of the road and a Ford Pinto in our lane attempting to pass them with only marginal success, since it was traveling uphill. I slowed down to give the Pinto time to get back into his own lane.

At this point, I would like to pause for a moment and ask that all of you out in blog-reading land, should you ever happen across a Pinto that is still out there, to run the bastard off the road. Just on general principles.

The little fucker in the Pinto decided to pass just one more car. I had already slowed to under 45 because I had seen him coming, but when he kept coming I moved to the right to keep from hitting him head on. We went across three abreast, the unfortunate victim being passed in the other lane, us clear over on the shoulder with the right tires in a ditch, and maggot-felcher in the middle (i.e., my lane). We missed hitting him head on.

Unfortunately, as stated, the right side tires were in a ditch. When I moved out of the ditch, the back end of the pickup, being mostly unladen and so very light, flipped to the left. I corrected, then corrected again, swerving in and out of the oncoming cars a couple of time but managing to miss them, before rolling off the left side of the highway. By which I mean rolling. Twice. Down a hill.

Fortunately, we actually landed right-side up. The girls were crying, and I will tell you right now that, after rolling a vehicle like that, there is absolutely no sweeter sound in the world than a child crying. All of the windows in the cab were broken out, of course, and I was able to climb out. I got SB and the kids out. A lady came stomping down the hill, even angrier at the little puke in the Pinto than we were (she was the last one he tried to pass). She made sure we were all okay, then ranted at how "the bastard didn't even stop" and so on.

Unfortunately, this was before cell phones were common so the little puke got away. One of the people who stopped had to drive about three miles in the direction we had been traveling to get to a phone to call an ambulance; if anyone had had a cell phone, the motherfucker would NOT have escaped because it was at least 10 miles in the other direction to the first turn.

[UPDATE: This is the truck afterward]

Long story short (too late!), we were all more or less okay, though DNT didn't walk for three months after that (a statement which has gotten me into hot water a few times when delivered correctly - she was eight months old at the time). DNO got some stitches, SB had a broken rib which has led to further problems down the line, I had some glass buried in my scalp and hands but was otherwise unhurt, though not seeing well because one lens of my glasses was broken. The kindly soul who drove to call the ambulance also called my folks out at the ranch, and they met us at the hospital.

Come Monday, Memorial Day, my parents drove us home. We stopped off in San Jose to buy a new vehicle (another long, irritating story I will spare you).

Tuesday I went back to work to face the inventory auditors. I got there before 6:00 a.m as usual. I got all my materials out on the bench, tagged them with the inventory tags given me by the materials control people, and waited for the auditors. And waited for the auditors. And waited for the auditors. I spent the time doing paperwork and digging glass shards out of my hands and scalp. Along about 5:00 p.m., one of the materials people FINALLY informed me that the auditors would not get to my area that day. So I put all the stuff that required refrigeration away, left the rest out with its tags, and headed home.

Next morning, I once again got in about six, and waited for the auditors. We still had production to do and I hated putting off starting it, but the auditors got in about 8:00 so that wasn't too bad. I taught them how to count chemicals ("You don't take it out of the container, that will contaminate it. You compare it to an unopened container and estimate") and once they left, about an hour later, we started in on actual paying work, with much of our inventory still out on the bench.

About 11:00, another party, including a company VP, came in the door to the lab. It seems that some dickhead, probably the same dickhead who scheduled the inventory, may his soul burn in Hell for Eternity, decided it would be a good idea to SCHEDULE A FUCKING SAFETY AUDIT DURING YEAR-END INVENTORY. My department got dinged for two items. First, for having one (count 'em, ONE) box just a teeny tiny tad too close to a fire sprinkler. By law, everything must be at least 18 inches from any sprinkler . My manager's response to the item (swear to Jeebus, word for word) was "The box which was 15 inches from the sprinkler has been moved."

The other demerit I got was for "storing chemicals on the bench". The day after inventory should have been completed. And wasn't. The same day we got a late start on production. Because of the audit.

I had words with the safety committee. They never pulled anything that fucking stupid again.

Oh, and the inventory audit? Nailed it. Turns out I didn't have to sweat it as much as I did, being a rookie. Discrepancies are pretty routine as long as they're not grossly bad or terribly expensive, and I've never worried about inventory since. As Bobby McGee might have said, "Freedom's just another word for who fucking cares?"

Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. What's yours?

A Veritable Punicular

The Sioux Chef is having some fun. Gitcha ass over there and contribumanate.

"We Have Contacted Officials In Middle Earth..."

This is hilarious.

Schadenfreude

There is something vaguely satisfying, and darkly pleasurable, about standing outside the supply room watching other people do year-end inventory. Does that make me a bad person?

Perhaps someday I'll tell you the story of my first year-end inventory as a rookie supervisor many years ago. It will explain why, though I probably should be ashamed of taking pleasure in other people's misery, I'm not.

Poopshit

I just got an e-mail from my Dad saying they won't be able to make it for Christmas because the storms are too bad.

Damn global warming.

"Fucking Bigass Hypocrite"

Apparently the PETArds are at it again.

in a well coordinated action, 487 bottles of pom wonderful juices were tampered with along the Eastern seaboard in stores like wlld oats, d'agostino's and food emporiums. those who drink the contaminated juice won't die like the animals in pom labs, but the diarrhea, vomiting and headaches will hopefully send a strong message that people will no longer allow innocent defenseless animals to be tormented and killed for a health juice and to line the pockets of profiteers who dont have feelings for those weaker than they are.

[...]

if you want to continue selling juice thats made from the blood of suffering animals lynda, we suggest you come up with a better tamper proof seal.

if people who want to hold a sign and shout to get out the truth out about whats happening inside places that confine and inflict pain and cruelty on animals are being thrown in jail and harrassed by the government, we will fight that much harder from the underground where its safer than holding a sign and yelling the truth. thanks to feinstein and inhoff and the stupid animal enterprise terrorist law that violates the principles that this country is supposed to be founded on, more and more activists like us will choose to retreat into the shadows and fight for the animals underground since the government is making it impossible to do the kinds of things that those who came before us did to oppose injustice, oppression and exploitation.

HotAir has a clip from Penn & Teller's "Bullshit!" episode about PETA, which you should watch (NSFW language, of course). It discusses one Mary Beth Sweetland, a VP of PETA, who is a Type I diabetic who injects herself daily with insulin which she admits "still contains some animal products". But she also says

I don't see myself as a hypocrite. I need my life to fight for the rights of animals.

Well, the rest of us see you as a "fucking bigass hypocrite", along with Ingrid Newkirk and the rest of your baby-killing friends.

Christ

Long-ass friggin' week. Don't ask.

Suffice to say that Mr. Bingley would have had a heart attack. [UPDATE: A very special thanks to "A", one of the unsung heroes of this corporate morass we call work.]

When You Gotta Go

If you haven't read it yet, I think this is the funniest thing Sheila has ever written. I now want to visit this place more than I'd like to see the Taj Mahal or the pyramids of Egypt.

The End Is Near

Not just content anymore with knocking on my door or pestering me as I come and go to the market, Jehovah's Witnesses are now sending their bullshit through the mail. Last night, I got a flier declaring "THE END OF FALSE RELIGION IS NEAR!"

Well, thank God for that. I hope religions that send over-bearing missionaries to bother you at home on the weekends or fish for recruits among people who just want to buy a head of friggin' lettuce and a quart of milk are among them. Especially if they contend by their definitions that an indicator of "false religion" is one that "meddles in war and politics" and then proceeds to pontificate about war and politics. "How many religions can you think of whose members engage in war?" they ask.

How much time do you have? Oh, wait. I forgot. You're the ones who don't really give other people a chance to speak. Never mind.

On the back of the flier, there's a return coupon where you can request, without obligation*, a copy of the brochure This Is Total Self-Righteous Bullshit!** as well as, presumably "without obligation," express your interest in being contacted "concerning a free home Bible study." They also ask you to indicate in which language you would like the brochure to be. I'm tempted to send it back asking for one in Swahili. Sad thing is, they could probably produce one.

*because we don't consider calling you every day and knocking on your door during your dinner to be "obligations." They may feel like it to you, but that's just because you haven't accepted the true Jesus - OUR Jesus - into your heart.

**Okay, it's actually called Keep On The Watch!, but I'm a call 'em as I see 'em kind of lady.

Two questions

1) Is Sean Penn so debilitated by years of drug use that he doesn't see the supreme irony of accepting a "free speech" award and publicly attacking the government while claiming that the government is censoring people and crushing dissent?

2) Why is there a "free speech" award named for Christopher Reeve?

Dashed Hopes

And with less than a mere few words, the hopes and dreams I've carried for almost twenty four hours now have been completely destroyed. Scroll down:

His rep, however, tells The Scoop that there’s no such project in the works.

I don't even want to talk about it right now. It's too soon, too painful.

Name that movie

Taking a very short breather from the bowels of work and needed something light and easy. Name that movie.

A horth, a horth, my kingdom for a horth!

The Th*tan

Tears actually came to my eyes when I read this and realized the potential for a whole new level of "so bad it's good" suckitude that I am drawn to like a magnet. This must happen. If there is a God, this film will be made and it will be as terrible as I am hoping and dreaming it can be.

(Link via here.)

Priceless

Click through to see Andrea's new hero. Mine too, right up there with Dennis Miller and James Woods among the denizens (and former denizens) of Hollyweird.

I thought the nanny state banned tag!

The Brianmeister tagged my sorry ass with this meme.

1. Egg nog or hot chocolate?

Neither. Can't stand eggnog and I'm not much for hot chocolate. My Christmas drink, taught me by my sainted Mom, is a Tom and Jerry. We had them every year for as long as I can remember.

Very easy to make. Just separate a couple of eggs, beat the whites until stiff, then beat and fold in the yolks. Fold in powdered sugar until the mixture is very sweet (never measured, so I don't know how much it is). Dump a large dollop into a mug, add hot water and your favorite hard liquor - I use bourbon but I won't force you to if you prefer otherwise. Sprinkle some nutmeg on top. Great drink for kids too, if you leave out the alcohol (or leave it in if you want them to just shut up and go to sleep).

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree?

Wraps them, unless they are too large or he's too tired and/or ripped.

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white?

Colored on the tree, white icicle-type on the house. Blue is apparently the new fad color for houses but I don't particularly like it.

4. Do you hang mistletoe?

On my belt buckle.

5. When do you put your decorations up?

Depending on how my spare time is going, usually the first weekend in December.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)?

Ham. We've gotten away from turkey because we prefer ham, though one year we had a wild turkey I shot. One of these days, if I get lucky and can get one, we will have a goose in the English tradition.

7. Favorite holiday memory as a child:

The very few times I got to spend Christmases with extended family. By the time I was four, we were living in SoCal. My Mom's family was in NorCal, my Dad's family was in Oregon. We only saw Dad's family every few years, Mom's family once a year normally. Those rare occasions when we got to spend holidays with either were precious.

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?

"Truth"? What "truth"? WTF are you talking about????

Sorry, couldn't resist. I kind of figured it out on my own as a kid. No earth-shattering trauma or anything.

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve?

Yes, and for the longest time I thought my family was the only one that did so. Our only rule, and it's the same rule my parents used for us kids, is that the parents get to pick which one.

10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree?

We pick it out together (from a lot now, but we used to make the trek to the Christmas Tree farm). Then Dad (that's me) cuts and fits it into the stand and strings the lights. Then we all hang the ornaments.

11. Snow! Love it or dread it?

Love it, but that's probably a function of never having lived where it's constant in the winter. Occasional snowfall every few years is all I've ever seen anywhere I've lived. We're too far from it now to make many trips with the kids, but when I was growing up we could get to good play areas in less than half an hour. Our kids have missed out on snowplay mostly, but we've managed to go a few times.

12. Can you ice skate?

No. I've sorta learned a few times but never did it enough to do it well or even adequately.

13. Do you remember your favorite gift?

Well, when I was a little kid, the one I liked the most was the one I talked about here. But, in all seriousness, the one I liked the most later was the one I got when I was around 14 or 15 - an electric typewriter (can't find a pic of the specifiic model I had, but it was a Brother brand). Until the advent of computers and ubiquitous word processors, that was the coolest (read: most useful) gift I ever got. Oh sure, I got some fun stuff before and after that, but I realized immediately how important that typewriter would be to my future (and I remembered well how much I hated typing on a manual).

14. What's the most important thing about the holidays for you?

Family, especially having the kids home to visit now that they are in college.

15. What is your favorite holiday dessert?

Actually, I'm not a dessert person so I just gorge on extra portions of the main dishes.

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition?

See Number 9. When I was a kid, it was really great to be able to open one on Christmas Eve. Now that I'm an adult, it's great to let the kids open one early.

17. What tops your tree?

One of those pointed tree-topping ornaments. I've never taken to the idea of shoving a tree up some poor angel's butt.

18. Which do you prefer, giving or receiving?

Giving. It's very gratifying that someone can find the perfect gift for you but it's even more gratifying to find the perfect gift for someone else.

19. What is your favorite Christmas song?

Tough one. There are several I like, though they all tend to be overplayed in the stores. Thank goodness I almost never go to stores during the actual shopping season.

Anyway, I think I'll have to go with "Sleigh Ride".

20. Candy canes:

Tools of Satan. Should be banned internationally and the makers forced to pay reparations.

21. Favorite Christmas movie?

Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Yeah, I know it's not a movie in the traditional sense, but Bumbles bounce; deal with it.

22. What do you leave for Santa?

I taught my kids to leave beer for Santa. After traveling long distances, climbing down chimneys, wrapping presents, climbing back up chimneys, putting up with reindeer shit (literally, the filthy beasts), Santa likes nothing better than to have a nice, cool Sierra Nevada Pale Ale waiting for him.

Tagging Tree Hugging Sis, Lisa, Shannon, and Sharon.

Hey Parents

For those of you that have or had young children, could you help me out here? My nephew's 3 1/2 years old this Christmas and I want to get him some good books to read, but I'm not really sure what reading level kids that age are at. I'd say he's of pretty average intelligence for his age, but I don't want to turn him off of reading by getting him something that is either too easy or too hard. Any suggestions from parents or other folks that have experience buying books for kids that age would be appreciated. Thanks.

The Friday Fuck Off Thread

The fog this morning is thick. So thick you can breathe it and everything more than a quarter of a block away is invisible. And there are shitheads out there right now driving around in it without their lights on.

Fuck you, you stupid fucking shitstains. That means I can't see you and you can't see me until even the best brakes in the world aren't going to save anybody. I'm sick to fucking death of reading horrible stories about sweet families of five being pointlessly slaughtered because some fuckwit who never should have been given a license to drive in the first place can't be bothered to exercize a little bit of common sense. Fucking idiots.

Your turn. And have a nice weekend. Unless you drive in the fog without your lights on, in which case I would kindly request that you direct your automobile towards the nearest beautiful yet hazardous local natural attraction, like a cliff, waterfall or dense forest, and plow toward it at high speed.

Breaking the rules

I normally try to avoid copying entire stories from newspapers but the SacBee requires registration and this neat story was just too good to hide behind a registration page. I'm putting it in the extended entry, but please read it.

Letters to the troops
3rd-graders help lift spirits of U.S. soldiers
By Chelsea Phua - Bee Staff Writer
Last Updated 6:54 am PST Friday, December 15, 2006
Story appeared in METRO section, Page B1

Two weeks ago, 42 letters arrived on the same day.

"My chin just dropped," said Simona Simonyan, 8, a student at Trinity Christian School in Sacramento. The rest of her third-grade class was just as surprised, she said.

Since early November, the class has been writing to newspapers across the country to ask their readers to write to American soldiers serving in Iraq and Afghanistan.

In their letters, the 8- and 9-year-olds asked readers to write about sports teams, school, family and anything that would remind the troops of home.

Readers mail the letters to Trinity so the class can forward them to the soldiers at a U.S. address set up for military personnel. The military will decide which letter goes to which soldier.

Simonyan's teacher, Nate Turton, said he incorporated the project, dubbed "Operation Open Eyes," into his English class. During the first lesson, students wrote letters to the troops. But they realized -- since there were only 15 of them -- that there was a limit to how many letters they could write.

During the second lesson, when the students were learning how to write a more formal letter, they discussed how they could expand their efforts. It dawned on them that they could reach more people by using newspapers and writing letters to the editor.

Turton said he hopes his students learn that even though they are a small group, they can make a big difference.

On Thursday, the mail came in early and included two more letters to be sent to the troops overseas.

When Turton announced the news, the students cheered.

"It's always the big part of the day," Turton said. "Mail time."

The students have sent out about 50 request letters, Turton said. "The kids have been churning out letters."

So far, the letters have been published in about 15 newspapers in seven states, including California, Texas, South Dakota, Rhode Island and Alaska. Most of the published letters have appeared in small community papers.

The class hopes to collect 2,500 letters to send to the soldiers. So far, they have collected 167, Turton said.

Most of the responses are coming from the Bay Area and the South. Most of the people responding are senior citizens or other third-graders, galvanized by teachers who read the letters in the papers, Turton said.

An elderly woman from Humble, Texas, said in a response letter that the project gave her a way to show her support for the troops.

"I think there are many people who would like to support our troops through letter writing but can't find an address," she wrote the class.

Destiny Chappell, 8, has written the most letters in Turton's class -- at least 12 to the editors and about as many to the troops, her teacher said.

Besides working on them in class, she also writes them at home, she said.

On Thursday, she was finishing two letters. In neat, cursive handwriting, she said she hopes they are doing well and wishes everyone they know a merry Christmas.

"When you give letters to the soldiers, it'll remind them of home and all that stuff," said Jessica Krasnodemsky, 9. She's written about 10 letters to editors.

Michael Hritz a former Marine who served in the Persian Gulf War in the early '90s, said receiving letters from home was always encouraging, even from families he did not know.

Hritz, now a seventh-grade science teacher at Trinity, has a 9-year-old daughter, Courtney, in Turton's class. Hritz said he remembered someone sharing about the family pet in the letters.

"In a wartime situation, you don't have pets," Hritz said. "It gives you that warm feeling that you get from being at home."

It's not just the drugs

Glenn Reynolds and Tigerhawk have made no secret of their contempt, if that's not too strong a word, for the drug industry's critics, as I have noted here.

Drug companies have done a lot more to make my life better than their critics have

Indeed, to coin a phrase. Molly Ivins, eat my shorts.

But, bugaboo to the nutjob left that Big Pharma may be, they're not the only ones who make life better. I'd like to say a few words on behalf of the makers and manufacturers of those delightful Medical Devices. And not just those who make cardiac implants and such, but those who make life better by providing faster, safer, more accurate, and more convenient tests, known to the public at large as In Vitro Diagnostic testing.

Never underestimate the value of convenience in making your life better. I'm not currently making IVDs but I did so for several years, and people are healthier and happier because of it.

Is someone you know diabetic? Are you diabetic? Not long ago, diabetics had to go into the doctor's office to have their blood sugar level tested. Often. By having several milliliters of blood drawn. With a needle. And didn't get results back for days. Now, they can test themselves at home. Or just wear a watch, with no sharp objects poking them at all. And get the results in seconds.

Do you have high blood pressure? Have you ever had to get an appointment and wait for a nurse to take your blood pressure? Nowadays, you can walk into nearly any pharmacy without making an appointment, sit down in a comfy chair, and monitor it yourself. Or even just wear a watch.

Or perhaps you know someone who's had some heart trouble. People with heart trouble are often on warfarin (Coumadin®)or other anticoagulants, which can, of course, be problematic if not controlled properly. Some of you may remember having to have blood drawn by a phlebotomist to have coagulation times tested. Not any more. Some patients can even test themselves at home, with no need for a doctor visit.

How much is that worth to you? To keep yourself and your particular condition under control, or that of a loved one? At home? Without too much (or any) inconvenience and pain?

From where I sit, it's worth a hell of a lot more than you have to pay for it.

Hmm

Sounds like teaching art isn't all it's cracked up to be. [Typo fixed]

Let them drink Thunderbird

In which we once again shine light on the utter stupidity of California bureaucrats (registration probably required).

Calif. moves to crack down on sugary alcohol drinks

SACRAMENTO -- Heeding the pleas of teenagers to help curb underage drinking, California authorities Wednesday moved to raise taxes on sugary alcohol beverages and remove them from convenience stores.

Wouldn't it be easier just to make underage drinking illegal? Oh wait...

Drinks such as Smirnoff Ice, Mike's Hard Lemonade and Bacardi Silver will cost as much as $2 more per six-pack if a state tax board changes its classification of the drinks from beer to distilled spirits.

Well, unless I'm mistaken (and I've never even looked at these terrible-sounding concoctions), they have alcohol content similar to beer, so that would make sense that they are taxed as such. Interestingly, I see no mention of wines, which have a higher alcohol content than beer. Some much higher, as Mr. Bingley well knows.

Outgoing Controller Steve Westly, ...

... well-know dumbass and ...

...a member of the Board of Equalization, said he is confident that will happen next year after several months of public hearings.

"When you're selling a product that is flavored with distilled spirits, that you're marketing as distilled spirits, I think common sense dictates that it should be taxed as distilled spirits," said Westly. "I see no public policy rationale why we should provide a lower tax rate to companies that are promoting distilled spirits to young people in California."

Alcohol taxes are based (roughly) on alcohol content. The idea of considering distilled spirits in a separate category from beer and wine based on anything other than alcohol content is simply retarded. It leads to such utter stupidity as the ABC forcing, as they did in the Santa Cruz area some years ago, a local restaurant to remove certain dishes from the menu. Why? The restaurant had only a beer/wine license, so they were legally prohibited, in the eyes of the ABC, from having brandy on the premises for use in sauces.

The board voted to accept a petition drafted by teenagers affiliated with the nonprofit group California Friday Night Live, which aims to prevent injuries and deaths caused by teens driving under the influence of alcohol.

"That's our main goal, just to lessen the accessibility for youth so hopefully it will decrease sales to young people," said petitioner Elianna Yanger, 17, of Folsom.

Uh huh. For a crowd that seems to have a hell of a lot of money to spend on CDs and video games, a tax of less than four bits on a bottle will probably not cause much of a ripple.

She said she hears her peers at school talk about the sweet-tasting beverages, which mimic cola, lemonade, iced tea and fruit drinks.

"It's mainly girls who drink them, because they're so flavored," said Yanger, "and the guys drink the beer."

Again, I may be mistaken but I strongly suspect that it's boys who are more likely to drive drunk, yet they are targeting the girly drinks rather than the manly drinks. And for chrissake, has none of them ever heard of mixed drinks made with, you know, actual liquor?

Much is at stake for the alcohol industry. Beer is taxed at 20 cents a gallon, while distilled spirits are taxed at $3.30 a gallon. The tax board estimates that reclassifying the beverages would generate an additional $40 million a year for state coffers.

Let's do some math. Distilled spirits are taxed at (3.30/0.2) = 16.5 times the rate of beer. If we assume that your average cheap beer has about 3.5% alcohol content and your average distilled spirit is 86 proof, or 43%, this is about twelve times the alcohol content of beer. That doesn't seem too far out of line. But taxing low-alcohol drinks at the same rate per volume as 86 proof liquor is just plain dumb. The important point is how much of it you have to drink to get shitfaced.

The tax board's action kicks off a public hearing process that will last at least nine months before staff brings recommendations to the board for a final vote. Makers of alcopops said they welcomed the scrutiny.

"Alcopops"? They call them "alcopops"?

"It's a move to gather the facts," said Gary Galanis, vice president of corporate relations for Diageo, owner of the Smirnoff brand.

He argued that the beverages should be classified as beer because they are derived from a malt base.

Proving that the industry is also capable of making really stupid comments. Whiskey is derived from a "malt base", too. For that matter, so is near beer.

Attorneys for Santa Clara County say that if the Board of Equalization fails to boost taxes on alcopops, they will revive a lawsuit they filed last month. The suit accuses the tax board of failing to enforce a California law that requires a beverage containing any amount of distilled spirits to be regulated as distilled spirits.

Lawyers. It's always lawyers. And paid for by taxpayers, no less.

I can't say for certain but somehow I suspect that the law they are talking about wasn't specifically concerned with "alcopops", but with cocktails mixed in bars. I could be wrong, I suppose.

The issue will likely wind up in the Legislature next year, too, where the alcohol industry lobbies and doles out generous campaign donations.

Can't have an MSM news story without at least one irrelevant, cheap shot.

Board of Equalization member Bill Leonard, a Republican ...

Not that it's very important, but why didn't they note that Westly is a Democrat? They seem to consider it relevant that Leonard is a Republican.

... who voted against the move toward reclassification, said the teenagers raised a legitimate technical question about what is beer, wine or distilled spirits.

But the Legislature wrote the laws that define those beverages and set the tax rates, he said, and deciding whether a curb on alcopops would curb underage drinking is social policy, not tax policy.

Well, duh.

To coin a phrase.

No reason

Nothing else to post so I thought I'd link to this.

The "What are you reading?" thread

Sheila thoughtfully sent me a copy of a fascinating book called Snapping, about "America's epideimic of sudden personality change" recently. I know the title sounds all sociology-like (my LEAST favorite subject EVER), but the content is very contrary to my distastes and fascinating to no end. So much so that when I received it yesterday, I knew myself well enough to be aware that I absolutely had to put it down after the first chapter. I didn't want to. I am a certifiable crack-head on the subject of cults. I know my limitations and I guard them. If I didn't, I'd be lost since, last I checked, there aren't really any groups ending in "anonymous" that help folks out with these sorts of human-psyche-gone-wild obsessions.

I turned my attentions to another book I'd recently received as a gift (as I told Sheila recently, all of my gifts this holiday season seem to be of the "prematurely expired rock stars variety") about Keith Moon.

I know some of you (shut up, Ken) are of the more serious type who would never sink so low as to care about the life story of one of rock and roll's most indulgent casualties. Nobody should be shocked that Keith died young. Smart people shouldn't allow themselves to be distracted by such unimportant things.

Ordinarily, I'd agree. The only rock biography I'd read until now was about Syd Barrett, written by Mike Watkinson and Pete Anderson and that's only because I've loved Pink Floyd since I was twelve and shared some alarming characteristics with their founding member.

Tony Fletcher is a guy who could make taking out his trash sound interesting. If he hadn't followed his passions and written about rock and roll, he would have been a kick-ass journalist reporting on anything else you can think of.

Tonight, I come home. I cannot even look at Snapping because I will become far too engrossed to be capable of a day tomorrow...so I open Fletcher's Moon. I skip the intro until tomorrow, when I'm not so bloody worn out from the day and go straight to Chapter One.

In the second paragraph, discussing the false information circulated about Moon's birth (it's sometimes shown as 1947 in reliable forums where one has a reasonable expectation of learning correct information. He was born in 1946).

A falsehood spoken often enough with conviction, printed frequently enough without research quickly becomes a truth.

How true in every walk of life.

The kicker for me, the one that made me want to read the life chronicles of a drummer longer than the most prestigious of biographies about the greatest of men?

"So he simply subtracted a year from his life. And everyone believed him."

What are YOU reading? Honest.

What she said

Like Sis says, take the scumbags' names off and call it the Werner Foerster Center.

And piss on the damned students.

Par for the course

I was struck by a particular line I saw while visiting Instapundit this morning. Regarding Augusto Pinochet:

He also accepted a transition to democracy, stepping down peacefully in 1990 after losing a referendum.

And, of course, several years later when he no longer had government power to hide behind, the Belgians got hold of him:

On October 8, a court in England ruled that Augusto Pinochet, the former president of Chile, could be sent to Spain to face a criminal trial for human rights abuses. The Spanish prosecutor was joined by prosecutors from France, Belgium and Switzerland who say that Chileans living in those countries have relatives who were killed during Pinochet's rule which began in 1973 and ended in 1990.

The decision marks a trend in international law. More and more countries are using the powers granted by international treaties to send the message: "no matter where you are, if you've committed political crimes, we will punish you."

Provided, of course, you were served up to them on a platter, like Pinochet and Milosevic. And constitute absolutely no actual threat to the Euroweenies. It also helps if you relinquished power peacefully, though this is not required.

Of course, if you are still in any kind of power or possess any kind of firepower greater than a slingshot, the Belgians will not touch you. They tend to out-French the French.

Never D*f*nd, Always Att*ck

The one thing I cannot abide in cult apologists are the absurd and ignorant arguments that the only difference between organized, traditional religions and dangerous cults* are that the latter are less popular. Take these comments from a once-popular actress whose last job was a series of commercials for a diet center:

Why is it OK that [Clams] gets slammed? A bigot is a bigot is a bigot...You would never come out and say Catholics are weird or Jews are weird - that's nothing short of bigotry. And it should be defended by every other religion in this world, because they're next.

Before any of you frothing atheists jump in and argue that believing that our bodies are infested with alien microbe infections that only the theories of a megalomaniac, racist, wife beating liar can cure is no different than believing in burning bushes and virgin births, please remember there's a very specific reason why I cannot type the name of the actress quoted above or the "religion" that she defends.

I could write a long, scathing, and widely published criticism of the Catholic Church and the Pope would not dispatch minions to my neighborhood to tell everyone that lives nearby that I'm a pedophile who's selling drugs to children at the school next door. He would not send a letter to my boss filled with lies to get me fired. The Church of England does not deliberately extract the dirty secrets of its members to keep them on file should they need blackmail fodder in the event one of them decides to leave. Judaism does not hunt down people they know are weak and vulnerable and offer false promises that they couldn't possibly deliver in order to manipulate money from them.

So If Ms. Fat Brainwashed Actress is asking why her poor, persecuted religion is so mocked, I'll be happy to give her an answer as soon as she can tell me why all of these people are dead. The loved ones of some of them would dearly like to know. If she's so hostile to the idea of critics, try answering them instead of silencing them for a change.

*I write "dangerous" being fully aware that many cults, while they may seem strange to outsiders, are completely benign. Nobody gets hurt or has their life savings sucked from them at the hands of charlatans and frauds. Not all cults are religious in nature (pyramid schemes) and some go to great lengths to appear to be normal, Christian ministries whose genuine intentions are not to offer spiritual support, but to part the weak, lonely, depressed and grieving from their money (fuck you, Joyce Meyer).

(first link stolen from here.)

Quotes of the day

First from Instapundit:

Drug companies have done a lot more to make my life better than their critics have

And from a related post by Tigerhawk

It is apparently in our nature to attack the businesses that have done the most for our standard of living.

For the record, I am not now nor have I ever been a member of Big Pharma. However, I have been in a related industry (medical devices, specifically in vitro diagnostics) and am not completely unfamiliar with the time and costs associated with drug development.

UPDATE: Thank you all for being so kind as to not give me a ration of grief about having not put in the Instapundit quote.

Da Man

Dr. Lederer is on right now!

UPDATE: I'll be darned. I had always thought the expression "Inn like Flynn" came from Errol Flynn, but it comes from a NY politican named Ed Flynn who easily won an election one year.

He has already given us the Santa Claus Theory of the stages of a man's life:

Stage 1: He believes in Santa Claus

Stage 2: He doesn't believe in Santa Claus

Stage 3: He dresses up like Santa Claus

Stage 4: He looks like Santa Claus

Stage 5: He thinks he's Santa Claus

I'm desperately trying to remain in Stage 1.

YES YES YES!

Must See TV indeed.

The Friday Fuck Off Thread

It's my birthday and thinking about life so far, I've been pretty darn lucky in the scheme of things and am pretty darn happy to boot. Apparently clocks are supposed to be ticking and I should be concerned about the fact that I'm not married and don't have kids. No ticks, no regrets, no emptiness. Ricki had a great post up on this a few weeks ago, about the type of people who give you the sympathetic head tilt that says they believe that you're lonely and sad because wish you had the SUV filled with ankle biters and the PTA meetings.

Um, no. FUCK OFF. I'm not saying I will definitely never want those things, but I haven't wanted them yet and don't want them right now. I always find this attitude especially irritating yet funny in its irony when it comes from people who can't seem to get through a regular conversation with you that doesn't involve them complaining in one way or another about how miserable they are. Their kids are a mess. They never have five minutes for themselves. Their husband is an asshole.

Then they offer to set you up with one of his friends because they "just want you to be happy."

Whatever. I love my life for everything that is and is not in it. Please, spare me the unworthy pity.

Take the vent away folks. The thread is yours.

R.I.P.

Jeanne Kirkpatrick, 1926-2006

I didn't know Mr. Bingley was Indian

Or maybe it's a previously unrecognized epidemic of steroid abuse.

Another pogo stick moment

I heard about it a couple of days ago but pretty much ignored this story because, well, who gives a crap? Today I heard one of the lesser publicized reasons for controversy.

Aromatic ads pulled from city bus shelters
Cookie smell didn't pass muster with the scent-sensitive

Cookie-scented strips were ordered off San Francisco bus shelters Tuesday, and now city officials are considering a ban on advertisers' efforts to use the powerful sense of smell on the captive audience waiting for a bus.

The cookie aroma was part of the "Got Milk?" ad campaign by the California Milk Processor Board. The scent strips drew national attention, both for the novelty -- scented outdoor advertising had never been tried before in the United States -- and for the controversy that ensued.

[...]

The action came after activists complained that the aroma could trigger asthma attacks and allergic reactions in people who are scent sensitive, said Nathaniel Ford, executive director of the Municipal Transportation Agency.

Okay, this is one of the goofier advertisement campaigns and the milk producers should be suitably embarrassed for coming up with it, but asthma attacks from cookie smells? At bus stops fuming with bus exhaust?

"The 'Got Milk?' scented bus shelters were intended to be a tasteful change from the frequent blasts of exhaust that permeate the air around some of San Francisco's bus shelters,'' the statement said.

Well, yeah. Not to mention the lovely smells from the bums using them as urban latrines.

Anyway, I would have continued to ignore this little bit of non-news had I not heard this part on the way to work today:

Some critics expressed concern over potential allergic reactions. Others complained the ads could be offensive to the poor and homeless who can't afford to buy sweet treats.

Well I, for one, am offended by ads for very expensive cars that I can't afford.

JC's pogo stick is getting a real workout these days.

Random observations

Some random observations and comments from a seemingly interminable week from hell:

1. Dry ice is fun.

2. It is heartening to get an actual, factual order for a new product on the very day you ship prototype material off to the beta sites.

3. It is disheartening to realize that, instead of being able to concentrate on bridging the last gap between prototype and production, you must make more prototype material to cover said order.

4. It is still more disheartening to realize that you must build the prototype material yourself, further delaying other pressing concerns including companion version of said prototype material which was originally supposed to be available for production at the same time, because your ace employee is overloaded with suddenly emerging urgent builds roughly double the original forecast, yet she puts up a brave front and still performs miracles despite the fact that corporate does not allow you to reward properly.

5. Adding to the disheartening is having to do this yourself even though the one area you got dinged for in your last review was doing too much of your employees' work because they needed the extra hands, and this additional (necessary) hands on work comes very shortly before this year's reviews.

6. Still more disheartening is requiring (well, actually just asking) another ace employee to come in on Saturday to catch up on all the new work you've lined up for her because of process concerns (not quite so bad because she'll pick up a little OT but it still sucks to have to ruin her weekend).

7. And even more disheartening still is realizing that, despite your best efforts and those of the brave materials and IT people, your MRP system still sucks big giant donkey turds and didn't forecast all the raw materials you needed for the month so that it will likely have to be built in installments, causing even more work for your overloaded manufacturing and QC people, bless their little pea pickin' hearts, unless some of your vendors work miracles, which ain't likely.

8. And to top it all off, you're only two beers in, haven't had dinner yet, it's past 7:00, and you have to get up at 4:00 to start it all over.

So where does that leave us? Six disheartenings vs. one heartening plus dry ice. I guess it's a wash.

Nah, the beer put it over the top. I'll go into work tomorrow. So Eat, Drink and Be Merry, for tomorrow we make reagents!

Little Bro's Surprise

As I've probably mentioned before, my younger brother is what you might politely describe as "special." He's not quite a Corky a la "Life Goes On," but he's always been obscenely immature for his age. Dealing with him can be tough at times, and other times, he can be the most endearing guy in the world. When we spoke this afternoon, he was bursting with happy pride about the birthday present he bought for me.

Him: "But I'm not going to tell you what it is. You have to wait!"

Me: "That's fine. I'll find out on Saturday when you come over."

Him: "But I'm not going to tell you before that! It's a surprise!"

Me: "Don't worry about it. I can wait. I'm looking forward to it."

Him: "I'm still not going to tell you what it is!"

Me: "You don't have to. It's fine, really."

[Pause.]

Him: "It's a MOVIE!!!"

I managed to get him off the phone before he could spit out what movie it was, at least to make sure this "surprise" he's so proud of wasn't completely spoiled.

Dammed Strait

The Cunning Linguist nails the quiz he stole from Mr. Sous.

The 12/7 Conspiracy

This is hilarious.

(An early Christmas gift for Emily)

A small word of advice to celebrities: When you find yourself in a hole, stop digging.

It appears that she does, indeed, spell that word that way. And I just laughed at this:

Lohan's representative, Leslie Sloane Zelnik, had no comment.

I don't wonder.

Nincompoops

Seriously. I've neither used nor heard that word in probably thirty years or more but it was the first word that came to mind on reading this.

Scientist Fights Church Effort to Hide Museum's Pre-Human Fossils
Kendrick Frazier
Skeptical Inquirer
Sun Dec 3, 11:55 AM ET
Famed paleoanthropologist Richard Leakey is giving no quarter to powerful evangelical church leaders who are pressing Kenya's national museum to relegate to a back room its world-famous collection of hominid fossils showing the evolution of humans' early ancestors.

I thought this kind of ignorant silliness only happened in Kansas.

Leaders of Kenya's Pentecostal congregation, with six million adherents, want the human fossils de-emphasized.

"The Christian community here is very uncomfortable that Leakey and his group want their theories presented as fact," said Bishop Bonifes Adoyo, head of the largest Pentecostal church in Kenya, the Christ is the Answer Ministries.

Uh, no, my poor little fundy nincompoop. They want their theories presented as theories and the fossil evidence presented as fact. Which is exactly what it is, unless you think God is a merry prankster who invented Turkana Boy to yank our collective chains.

"Our doctrine is not that we evolved from apes, and we have grave concerns that the museum wants to enhance the prominence of something presented as fact which is just one theory," the bishop said.

My silly nincompoop, your doctrine is utterly irrelevant to a scientific display. And afarensis bones are not "theory", they are solid objects. What you want to say about them to explain their existence might be called "theory", or perhaps more likely, willfully ignorant nonsense.

Bishop Adoyo said all the country's churches would unite to force the museum to change its focus when it reopens after eighteen months of renovations in June 2007.

All of them? Even the ones that have moved beyond the 18th century?

It was these comments Leakey termed outrageous. Calling members of the Pentecostal church fundamentalists [Ed.: Duh], Leakey added: "Their theories are far, far from the mainstream on this."

Richard Leakey: Master of Understatement.

Maybe the good bishop should be sent a plane ticket to Kansas. I'm sure he'd fit right in.

W.A.S.S.

The decline and fall of Western Civilization continues apace.

Baby spas are an $11 billion a year industry.

“We offer over 25 different services, ranging from baby massage, baby yoga, baby sign language, brain awakening through classical music [and] baby chakra chi,” said Jonathan Baker, the owner of Skin Spa Baby in Encino, Calif., a suburb of Los Angeles. “It’s aligning the baby’s chakras through warm towels. We play a trance-type of music. We take warm towels. We place them on the chakras and we bring them to a calmness.”

We. Are. So. Screwed.

BTW, why do I get the urge to beat the snot out of anyone who uses the word "chakra"?

"Past performance is no guarantee of future results."

I guess the situation on the ground has deteriorated to the point that it's now officially a civil war (Link may require registration; if so please get one here).

FOR THE FIFTH straight day, sectarian violence rocked the snow-covered hamlet of Aspen, Colo., as a marauding band of investment bankers ambushed a group of hedge-fund managers Tuesday. This latest incident comes on the heels of Monday's daring punch in the nose by a gastroenterologist to one of the co-founders of YouTube.

Although there has always been tension between the haves and the have-mores, today, from St. Moritz to St. Barts, class warfare is raging to an extent not seen since the 1980s. Recent attempts to bring the two sides to the table have failed, most notably last month's summit at La Colombe d'Or in St. Paul de Vence. Some progress was being made until it came time to order the wine. The hedge-fund managers and dot-commers insisted on a 1978 Le Montrachet (Domaine Romanee-Conti, $23,929 a bottle) while the coalition of corporate lawyers and plastic surgeons were united around the 1961 Palmer Margaux ($2,000 a bottle).

[...]

Few can agree on exactly what set off this recent round of violence, but tensions have been simmering since eBay bought out PayPal in 2002. ... Within weeks, Silicon Valley dinner parties began to segregate along millionaire and billionaire lines. By the time one of the Google guys wore a T-shirt to work proclaiming, " 'M' is for 'mediocre.' 'B' is for 'brilliant,' " the battle lines were drawn.

[...]

Donald Trump tried to infiltrate a strategy session of the hedge-funders but was found out. He was then bound, gagged and delivered to the doorstep of the American Bar Assn. The billionaires had cruelly scrawled on his forehead, "Past performance is no guarantee of future results."

Scrawled? They've gone soft. I'd have used a branding iron or a rusty blade.

Raping Gaia

And other home projects.

UPDATE: Raping Luna too!

Exposing the Real Jonestown

I haven't done nearly as much reading on the subject of Jonestown as I'd like, but this blog, a response to the supposed biased "sugarcoating" in the documentary Jonestown: The Life and Death of Peoples Temple looks like it could be very interesting if it winds up being regularly updated (I write "supposed" not to doubt the blog's author, who seems very familiar with the subject, but because I've 1) not seen the film and 2) even if I had, I don't know enough about the finer details of Jonestown to feel comfortable drawing any conclusions. I know the basics of what happened, but I'm hardly an expert).

Well, that puts my heart at ease

Still Number One

Yes, work is still brutal and mind-numbing. Why do you ask?

Warning

Do not click this link.

What, you thought I was kidding?

Giggle

Just heard this on the radio this morning. Now I feel compelled to find the album.

No idea who the chick singing is but I could swear Karen Carpenter rose from the grave.

UPDATE: More giggles.

Speechless

I really don't know what to say about this. Click through, I really don't want to link to the original story.

I just hope his attorney followed it up with "Your Honor, my obligation to my job requires me to let him say stupid shit like that."

Silly string

Whoever came up with this idea is a flippin' genius:

William also said that they need handwarmers because it is cold and more importantly--send Silly String. They are able to dispense that stuff from 10 feet away and it will detect trip wires that are not visible to the naked eye and saves their lives before entering a building. He said the Silly String just floats through the air and lays gently on any trip wire and works pretty cool. If there are no trip wires then it just falls and hits the ground. So, we are trying to send any Silly String possible.

There is no limit to the inventiveness of people.

Put some Silly String on your Christmas list to keep our troops safe.

BTW, I heard on the radio that this story has hit the internet bigtime, including left-leaning sites, but I haven't seen it yet. Send links to any interesting comments you come across.

UPDATE: A quick search shows that the idea has been around for some time but this is the first I've heard of it. I'd love to see lots of publicity for it.

Quote of the day

I have absolutely no idea what day, but I found it TOday and that's good enough for me. By way of Andrea and Kim (no link to the original, since I have no idea where to find the original) is John Derbyshire with the pithy quip:

Wherever there is a jackboot stomping on a human face there will be a well-heeled Western liberal to explain that the face does, after all, enjoy free health care and 100 percent literacy.

That "Lovin'" Feeling

This is a joke. It has to be. If you would like to suggest otherwise, shut up. Just shut the hell up.

Name that show!

(Show AND episode)

"Santa smells like beer!"

"Give him ten minutes, he'll smell like hard liquor."

Inadequite

I don't really have an opinion about Lindsay Lohan one way or another, but shit attitudes like this are infuriating.

Lindsay Lohan's publicist has hit back at the press after journalists mocked a message the actress wrote following the death of film director Robert Altman.

"She was devastated... it was written very quickly and from the heart," said Lohan's spokeswoman Lesley Sloane.

And if you were doing your job right, it never would have made it into the press without being edited.

Ms Sloane said Lohan, 20, wrote the email note on her Blackberry just moments after she heard Altman had passed away.

"She was devastated, she started crying... here was a girl who found something special in this man that she felt so close to, and she was completely shocked and blown away that he had just died," she said.

All the more reason to eulogize him in a thoughtful and coherent manner, I would say. Besides, who in the hell is "shocked" and "blown away" when a peaked-looking 81-year-old dies?

Lohan's party-girl image is frequently a focus for the tabloid press and Ms Sloan said it was time to give the actress a break.

"It's enough already. Everybody has got to get a life. People need to get off her back," she said.

There's a good way to foster a positive relationship with the public and Lindsay's fans - tell everyone that pays any attention to her that they need to get a life (even though I'm pretty sure what she really meant by that was "please stop making my job so hard").

PS - somebody just dropped this URL in the comments under my original post linking Lindsay's "heartfelt thoughts." It's hilarious.

The Friday Fuck Off Thread

I'm getting a cold. The sniffles, aches and coughing haven't set in yet, but my throat is itchy and I've got one of those non-drug-induced clouds swarming around my head. It's coming. I can feel it. Colds can fuck off.

And you?

By the by, the FFO thread is open throughout the weekend, so if you hit this on Saturday or Sunday, don't feel as though you can't still leave a comment. We are still accepting vents, frustrations and foul abuse through Monday.

Quote of the day

No link to the story, but the Morning Show had an item about a fellow who drove off a cliff. His car hit the cliff a couple of times on the way down, the airbags deployed, and the car landed in a tree. The man walked away. The next exchange went:

"Luckiest man on the planet"

"Right after Ringo Starr"

Some tasteless humor

Not much to say while waiting for the Friday FO thread to get going, so I thought I'd pass along some utterly tasteless humor I received by email. You may have received the same but it's still amusing. I don't know the source but will be happy to give "credit" where "credit" is due, should it become known.

If anyone is offended by the following, please refer to the FO thread coming up shortly.

CHRISTMAS CAROLS FOR THE PSYCHIATRICALLY CHALLENGED

Schizophrenia - Do You Hear What I Hear?

Multiple Personal