Rooster Chronicals: Part III

So I got a bit distracted and went off on a lot of tangents for a while, but it's about time I get back to the main reason I started this blog. Or rather, my attempt to turn a stunt into money ala viral marketing. Except I don't have that many virii, and also, I don't even have a damn product to sell. Maybe KFC? Their chicken seems to make people fucking insane. Anyone wanna advertise on this site? I'll take whatever. Well, let's continue wherever it was I left off.

Poor Heloise! I had done nothing but remind him of his impending death for a while - I found this to be the funniest thing in the whole damn world for some reason. I was getting way too much enjoyment out of taunting this poor rooster. I guess a large part of it was 'gallows humor'. Kinda like M*A*S*H or Catch-22 or something. Like, when bad shit is happening, you have to laugh. Well, I was about to close the peephole on this poor rooster, and it didn't seem to care. I didn't seem to care as well, but inside, there was some apprehension.

For one thing, this rooster was fucking huge! I swear, I've never seen a bigger rooster in my entire life. And alghouth I can't really describe him as cute, I will say he had a certain shine in his poor rooster eyes. I mean, it's not like Heloise was gonna grow up to be in a chicken orchestra or anything. Somehow (the beer played a role in this) I hoarded up my courage and entered the ChickenDome. It wasn't really a dome per say, more like a fenced off garden, but I felt like I was entering a ring of combat. And it was three against one.

Like a gazelle on heroin, I stumbled into the arena. Stepping into the former last meal of Heloise (which just so happened to be chicken scratch, in case there are any historians here documenting last meals) I saw my opponent, fearless until the end. I slowly approached and...he stared at me as if I was his savior. I bent down, scooped him up, and began the walk down the Green Mile. The whole way there, he didn't struggle, or moan, or squawk, or anything. Or if he did, I don't remember it. Really, everything was going very smoothly up until the time we arrived at the chopping block. I think it was about then that Heloise realized the severity of his situation, as he began to struggle.















If not for the courage of the fearless June, the rooster would have been lost...

Tune in next time for the stunning conclusion!

(All pictures from M7 and my brother - thanks a million)

Mario Savio

"There is a time when the operation of the machine becomes so odious, makes you so sick at heart, that you can't take part; you can't even passively take part, and you've got to put your bodies upon the gears and upon the wheels, upon the levers, upon all the apparatus, and you've got to make it stop. And you've got to indicate to the people who run it, to the people who own it, that unless you're free, the machine will be prevented from working at all!" - Mario Savio

More information here (The FBI didn't like this guy for some reason...)

Wordle!

Wow. Click on it to make it bigger, it's neato. Wordle takes a blog, or a bunch of text like a poem or story or something, and makes these crazy looking pictures like this one. Crazy man, totally weird.

HT to Malaria, Bedbugs, Sealice & Sunsets.

I can't stop this sneezing, deep inside of me...

I don't know whats in the damn air today, but I can't breathe for shit. I keep sneezing and blowing my damn nose to no avail - I want to just go back home and nap for hours on end. They keep reducing the number of people in my 'queue' at work - now we are three. Next week, unless I hear I can have my time off, I'll be putting in my two week notice. It's cool, I'm done with this place anyways and it's really headed into the shitter. Since I've been here, they have reduced the base pay (I still make more than I did, because I'm awesome), cut benefits, delayed our raises indefinitely, and just announced that they will be cutting 800+ jobs. Nice, great job. Fuck 'em. (I work for a company that was initially founded by William Burrough's grandfather - if you use wikifu you could probably find out who this is, but I'm forbidden by common sense to tell you in this blog.)

So I wrote my Senator - Kay Bailey Hutchison - she is a total cunt. Also, her face looks like it's been exposed to radium or something. I hate this woman. She always is wrong, she's a Republican, she has three eyes (see enclosed picture) and she never uses enough teeth when she's fellatiating me to absorb my seman into her thought-beams. This lady is the focus of my hatred today, since she is a tangible target for my anger. RAWR! Feel the wrath of your constituent! This time, I'm pissed because she is 'for' the indefinate declaration of war and war time powers that Bushy McTardboy is/has passed. According to Hutchison, "America's present action involves no war against a specific nation, but rather a group of people who are attacking us at home and around the world. The President relies on the existence of independent, implied, and inherent powers for the necessary efforts required to aid in the effective identification of these terrorists to punish them and those who aid them." Oh, I get it now - everyone everywhere is a terrorist! Ah, why didn't you just say so. It all makes perfect sense now! If you are confused, learn more about the proposed Bush/Mukasey plan here.

Bah. I need some strong liquor to wash the stench of filthy right-wing cunt out of my mouth. I wonder what could do the trick...Oh good, wonderful Tito's (tm) brand style vodka! I want them to sponser this blog. Actually, I've not drank in two days! I've been busy cleaning and freaking out about stupid shit. I need to get my ass in gear in preperation for the desert thing. But I've recently been a convert from my beloved whiskey to vodka. It seems to be easier to handle on my ever-increasingly worn-out body. I just can't drink what I once could. I try to blame SSRI's - they seem to lead to stomach bleeding sometimes - but I know it's the years of boozing what did it. So I just need to take it slower and probably stop drinking on an emtpy stomach. I might just stop till I get to Reno, or the flight to Reno, or the day before the flight to Reno, or the next time I watch Reno 911. Either way, I'm sober now. I'm at work, that's what for, see?

Um, I think there was more I wanted to plug - mostly I'm scatter brained with medicine and coffee and brain chemicals and I didn't do any ranting yesterday. Does this count as a good blog entree? Oh hey, look what Kenny (of Kenny Vs Spenny) just did... Oh man, I love that Kenny. Well, I'm off for my daily walk-about.

Chris Carter, please shoot yourself in the face

I'd like to preface this by talking about how much I despise going out to the movies. I mean, it costs way too much money, it's dirty, there are lots of other smelly, white-trash morons around, a fucking coke and popcorn costs something like $30, and most mainstream movies suck an ass. The last movie I can recall seeing in the theater was the last Harry Potter movie, and only then because a decent group of DaFTies went together to see it. It was OK. I've not read the books, I'm not obsessed about it, but it managed to hold my attention and my former wife was in it. Big deal, you say. Look, I'm an elitist, smuggish white person who likes to claim I hate TV but spends hours watching Battlestar Galactica and/or Kenny vs Spenny. Walking contradiction, right? Yeah, that's me in a nutshell, if I could find a nutshell big enough to hide in and protect me from the fucking chemtrails and shit.

So this weekend my brother turned 25, and I went up to the Fort of Worth to visit him and his friends. On Saturnday, the local movie place has $4.50 movies before 6. I wanted to see the new damn Batman movie because if there is one thing I love, it's seeing people who are dead before thier prime perfrom for my amusement. Alas, everyone else had already seen it, and it wasn't playing around that time, and etc. whatever. So we decided, or rather, Steve decided for us, that we needed to see X-Files 2: Complete Waste of Fucking Time.

So it starts good. I mean, the music is cool and all, it's the X-Files theme, so it was hard to fuck up. Doo-dooo-doo doooo doo doooooo. You know, the X-Files theme. It's killer wicked killer. I can't get it out of my head! Oh, the movie goes downhill from there. After the credits, there is some duder leading a buncha cops to a severed arm. Turns out, he's a creepy pedophile priest who somehow became psychichly connected to this alter boy he fucked in the ass. Oh, I'm sorry, let's say 'buggered' like they do in the movie. Same fucking thing. Spoiler Alert! This movie sucks balls. I mean, oh, look, some Russians (Really? fucking Russians? This is the best they could crap out?) captured some girls who all had the same blodd type. Why? To keep the lung cancer ridden body of the now-gay former alter boy alive via the methods seen in this video:


Yep. They based the entire movie on a grainy stupid two year old internet meme. I first blogged about it at least months ago on my top-secret LJ . Who fucking cares. They arrive just in time to save the bitch, imagine that. Oh yeah, for a few minutes, they provided a 'love' interest of Mulders, because him and Skully can only fuck, but have a relationship. Also, they imply that they had a kid (?) and it died in childbirth. Oh yeah, the new bitch? She gets killed after about 10 minutes and Mulder doesn't seem to give two fucks of a shit. I sure didn't.

The only X-Filesy thing about this movie was the two seconds we saw a dog with two heads. Then Mulder smashed it with a hammer.

The whole movie was like one of the bad episodes of season 2 or 3 from the show. You know, the ones that were not memorable, and you felt like you were obligated to watch it because it might contain a secret to the 'puzzle' of cancer man and aliens and Mudler's sister? It was just like that. Only it lasted longer and costed more and contained previews for five or so similarly shitty movies. I hope you enjoy your money, Gillian Anderson, you washed up whore. Even with your red hair, I wouldn't fuck you anymore. Go back to being a cum-guzzling gutter slut. Mostly, I wish to disgrace Chris Carter for releasing this pile of shit. Thanks, assface. May you get a nasty VD that impairs your ability to achive an erection, you filthy talentless hack who makes movies solely to ring in the money from gullible suckers who haven't been laid since the late eighties and earn thier income by blogging about shitty sci-fi movies and working the register at the local comic shop.

Yes, I agree 100%.

HT Corpus Callosum

Doo dah doo doo!

Oh man, I love this video. A minute and twenty seconds of pure awesome! Now if only we didn't have to sit through ten minutes of absurd mediocracy to find the precious nuggets of awesome that lie in each episode of Tim and Eric Awesome Show Great Job! It's a decent show. I think they need to try harder. Or less hard.

Speaking of being hard... man, I wanna tap that ass. Oh Erin Esurance, I adore you. I'd get full coverage, if you know what I mean. I mean, I want to turn my penis into a cartoon so I can slip it into your tight little brown starfish and teach you how to save money on your car insurance. Consider me sold! And hey, quit fucking around with that dumbass other agent. I mean, yeah he looks nice and all, but I bet they didn't even bother drawing him genitals. But mine are here for you anytime! It's cool, we don't even need to check with my girlfriend, since you aren't even a real human! And fuck birth control, I'll empreggers you and we can have the world's first half cylon half-cartoon/ half-human hybrid! I'm pretty sure it'll cure some disease if we inject it's blood into a sick person. Probably it cures ebola. Or Marburg virus, I can't tell, so we are gonna have to infect a fairly large number of 'volunteers' to try this shit out. Oh hey, how do you feel about threesomes? I've got this other cartoon lady friend, Joan of Arc, and she's slightly underage but hot as the slag from freshly cut steel. And a natural redhead. I think.

Ladies, Ladies! No need to fight! There is plenty of Twi to go around. And I wanna see some cum-swapping! What do you think I'm paying you for, to play pokemon in the nude? Sheesh, I'll never understand how girls work. I think it's because the clitoris sucks all the damn blood from thier brains. All they can think about is my dick. I know, life is hard. Just like my...nevermind.

Whoring Myself Out Already

To the ACLU: http://action.aclu.org/mukasey (Stop Mukasey and BushCorp. from fucking us further and declaring a state of war! Or some shit. Just do it.)


To Free Dog Food for animal shelters - Animal Shelter Rescue


To my good friend Jen, who is having a sale on her Etsy sites: Resinated Goods

And finally, because it helps a virtual me,
Fallensword, a cheesy-ass browser based RPG: FallenSword


Today I seem to have Writer's Blocktardia. Maybe this is the cure. Posting stupid links. Yip. Enjoy!

Days with My Father

http://www.dayswithmyfather.com/

Wow, I'm blown away by this. It's some damn powerful photography. The accompanying text is frightening and informative and makes me feel horrible and wonderful at the same time. It's powerful stuff.

HT Boingboing

Let's See if I can Embed Video...

( Hat Tip to Laughing Squid)

I'm too lazy to write today, working on Part III of the rooster thingie. I'm half asleep. This is a test to see if I can do videos right. Also, I've been playing with the setup of the page - for those of you on RSS feeds it won't make a difference.

Drug War Interlude

As you may or may not be aware, I read a fuckton of blogs every day. That's a metric fuckton, not English, in case you were wondering. That's between 200-300 entrees a day. A good majority of them are on the scienceblogs.com header. (I'd highly recommend subscribing to it, tons of good reads.) You may also have noticed my blog list to the side here - all the ones listed are brilliant, BTW. Anyhoo, recently 'DrugMonkey' has been touting the 'effectivness' of the War On Drugs, and this morning I comprised the following response to his latest steaming pile of bullshit "The War on Drugs Didn't Work, Eh?" (Note: I typically agree with DrugMonkey 90% of the time, just especially not on this issue. Typically, it's a great blog and I read it often. I just get livid when people try to justify the present drug war for whatever reason.) Education Yes, Prohibition, Fuck No.

You know, I bet they have reduced rates of civil unrest in China, since they prohibit freedom of speech and firewall the hell of out of their internet. Does this make it right? No. Does the decrease in drug use justify the war on drugs? Hell no. I guess I'm speaking just for pot, since anything harder would require more thought than I am willing to go into right now. I have no new arguments to add here that haven't been reiterated ad nasuem , but I'm coming from a freedom standpoint. Why can I get blacked out drunk on vodka from the grocery store, but I can't catch a smooth buzz from sharing a joint with a few friends? I think as long as booze and tobacco are legal, there isn't an argument on this planet to justify the criminalization of marijuana. On what grounds, exactly, is pot any 'worse' than alcohol? Allow me to play the 'how many people die each year' card, if you will. How many people ended up in jail for marijuana possession in 2006? 829,625? Almost a million people? Really? You explain to me how this is a good thing. It's not keeping criminals off the street. It's not preventing any crime. It's creating a mess and filling our jails with non-violent offenders.

I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say "Let the punishment fit the crime." If the drug you possess doesn't have the ability to kill, why are people being arrested and charged with hard time? Why sentence patients and providers to decades of jail time? Simply put, why, other than for arbitrary morals, do we legalize one intoxicant and not another?

To what end do we persecute others to feel 'safe'? Do you feel any safer knowing that I could be locked up at any time, simply because of the methods I choose to relax? The next time you drink a beer, image if you could be locked away and have your possessions confiscated for simply winding down.

Yes, tell the teens and everyone the consequences, just as we do for alcohol and tobacco use. Education is what works, not prohibition. IMHO, 'drug use has gone down' does NOT mean the drug war is working. By your logic, the 'War on Terror' must be won, since there has been a steep decline of terrorist attacks on this country since 9/11. It's a good thing we don't have any other problems we could be spending this money on in this country.

The Rooster Chronicals: Part II

So now we have established that I don't eat meat. Or, I don't eat meat intentionally. Seriously, it's been so long I can't even rememeber what it tastes like - but it looks like even 'the taste' isn't the reason people eat meat. It has to do more with perceived values. (Thanks, science daily!) Really, try it sometime. I'm all about spreading veggie-ism, but I'm not here to preach - that part comes later. Well, back to the story.

So a while back on Austin-Chat (the mailing list of bored burners living in Austin, and other concerned folk) I got off on a rant about how meat is bad and shit. Well, not that meat was bad, but that the methods modern man goes about to obtain that meat is horrible. (I've tried searching my mail for the thread, but I can't find it. If anyone wants to lead me to it, please do.) Regardless of what I was babbling at the time, the conversation boiled down to "If someone gets me something to kill, I'll kill and eat it."

At the time, we were toying around with the ideas of a cow, or a goat, or something mammalian. A few months pass. Then, a few weeks ago, as fate would have it, a few good friends of mine came up with a way for me to become a man as it were. Here is my understanding of How A Rooster Came To Be. A few friends of mine decided to try their hands at having chickens. The idea was to only get hens, so they got three chicks. These little chicks, which were supposed to be hens, grew up into...two roosters and a hen. So they were 2/3's the wrong gender, much like the world as a whole, according to the internets. One of these roosters, Heloise, was to become famous in the eyes of the entire world wide web solely because he was chosen to deflower my death virginity. Or so the plan was...

Meeting Heloise

Like any good serial killer wannabe, it's important to start small. Although in my mind I would have no problem killing anything, it seemed that Jebus H. LoveChrist decided I needed to start smaller than a whale. So here he is. A rooster is much larger than I thought. Heloise is probably about 10 pounds, give or take a bit, since I'm a weakling and have no real grasp on weight since I'm not Earth-born.

I guess there isn't too much to say about him. He's a rooster. He seemed kinda dumb and not very fearful of a giant man-sized chicken wearing a lab coat and brandishing a fancy-ass Japanese Knife. Apparantly when you plan to kill a rooster or chicken or deer or human, you wanna make sure they haven't eaten in a while, or they will make lots of poop and stinks when you do. Well, I felt pity on the poor thing and let him eat a last meal. I totally informed him what was about to happen as well, and recommended that he screw his hen/wife as much as he wanted in the next few minutes. Surprisingly, all three of them went behind a bush and made some clucking-fucking sounds for a few minutes. Then Heloise appeared, defiant to the end, to meet her maker, or whatever happens to roosters when they depart this world for the next.

Damnit Jim, I'm a Doctor not a Politician

Pissed off about the Obama cover? I'm not, because I have a working brain and a sense of humour. But if you are, here's the McCain version!

HT to Blorts

The Rooster Chronicals: Part I

I've been talking about starting a real-life blog for quite a while, and for some reason, I thought I needed a large 'event' to launch myself into the blogosphere. Well, I had the opportunity recently to murder another living thing in cold blood and feast upon it's corpse. I figured, what the heck, that will be my stepping stone into the world of Web Logging, which I hear is now called 'blogging'. I hope I don't get it confused with 'flogging' and cause massive blood loss and lawsuits. Without much further ado, I present the Rooster Chronicals.

Ah, but first, a little background.

Sometime back in the day, in the spring of my sixteenth year or so, me and my small group of friends would often transverse the distance from Keller to Denton, a journey of little more than 30 miles. Ah, the wonderful city of Denton. My memories begin at place called the Argo, where I drank my first alcoholic beverage ever - a luke-warm wine cooler provided by my friend Dave. Well, not just Dave, but Crazy Dave, a member of 'Evil, Evil, Evil, and Ken', a freakish noisy part of the North Texas 'punk' scene. Ah yes, the Halcyon days of my youth, when the only thing that mattered was trying to look cool smoking a Kool ciggerette (the same kind Ben Weasel smokes! ZOMG!) and sipping on a weaty bottle of Bartles & Jaymes like it was a shot of Luis XIII. These were the days when 'The Tomato' (now a burnt up muddy hole in the ground) was still called 'The Flying Tomato' and the streets were literly paved with diamond-plated gold. Along the now-mythical Fry Street laid a store hidden behind the stench of patchoulli and body oder that to this day I still just call 'That Hippy Store on Fry Street' but I think the scientific name was 'Voyager's Dream'. Regardless of what was being called what, they sold bumper stickers by the trunkload. One that caught my eye said 'Love Animals, Don't Eat Them'. [It was actually rectangular in real life, but all I could find is this damn pin. Same animal silouttes and everything, though.] I impulsivly decided I needed it, as for some time period before this, I had decided to stop eating red meat and most other things, but I still ate chicken, and fish, and sometimes pepperoni. Because pig is fucking tasty, I guess. For some illogical reason, the moment I slapped that sticker onto my already over-flaired car, sometime inside of my brain changed. I re-programmed, metaprogrammed, defragged and rewrote my behavior patterns and went veggie. I'll admit I wasn't the only vegetarian I knew - both my aunt and uncle were (and one of them still is - find out who on a future episode of Who Really Gives A Fuck) and assorted friends I knew had toyed with the idea. Whatever my forgotten motives were in reality, as of Febuary 13th, 1996 (according to my muddled brain calendar, I was a fledgling hippie.

It would be another 12 years before I ate meat again. And I earned it, dag-nabbit.