American Idol Thoughts

Just don't even start.

So I'm watching this last night, and I realize why only David Cook can win.
The rest of the contestants sing in a polite Kathy Lee Gifford way.
You know what I mean? It's that proper pronunciation of a word... that perfect form shit that's just nauseating.
In the words of Ike Turner they need to put some "stank on it", and none of them except for Cook, do.

David Archuleta sings like Josh Grobin, and personally, I don't know why Josh Grobin sings like Josh Grobin. I mean I understand that he has enough money to buy me 50 times over...but what would possess a young guy to want to BE Josh Grobin?
When you're young...and you're seeing all kinds of badass metal bands, or even boy band singers...what exactly makes you want to go the route of a guy who's going to be thrilling Grannies across the nation?

The other night, after eating at a local sushi joint, my girlfriend and I were riding back to her house and on the radio station she had on in her car was this show "Delilah"...it's this woman who people call in to with belly aching stories, and then she plays a song for them that she thinks fits their situation. So this woman called in crying about how she ruined her whole life trying to help someone else with a drug addiction, which I translated as:

"I was popping Percocets like Tic Tacs, Delilah...next thing I knew I was "earning rent" next to the dumpster behind my apartment that I was about to be evicted from, and now I'm calling you to play a magical song that will make it all better."

So Delilah played "Don't Give Up" from Josh Grobin for her, and this is where I realized, once again, that I'm wired backwards from other people. I actually felt depressed listening to a song that's meant to be inspirational. It was seriously bumming me out and making me forget how great the sushi just was at Kyoto in the Pike Creek Shopping Center in Newark, DE. If you ever go there...you have to have the Dragon Roll...it's sick!
Oh, and by the way, how badass is Sapporo beer? I don't really drink beer, but I dig that shit out of that and Stella Artois. I thought you might want to know that.

Anyway yeah....David Cook.

OMG!!! HOW COULD SHE?!?!?

What’s wrong with you America?
How many times do I have to watch you act shocked at an event in your culture that you work SO HARD to nourish?

Miley Cyrus.

Yup, ole’ Hannah Montana is the latest “HOW COULD SHE?!?!?” moment du jour.
You see, Miley, at the tender age of 15 to us “grown folk”, has taken it upon herself to pose topless, covered only by a satin sheet for Vanity Fair Magazine. This has apparently thrown America through quite a loop. America can’t understand how this could have happened. How could sweet innocent Miley have done such a horrendous thing?!?
I’m mean, so what if she’s surrounded by an entertainment industry who has glorified the likes of Paris Hilton, Lindsey Lohan, and Britney Spears with all their sexual and drug induced hijinks. Doesn’t she know how wrong it all is?
We have no hand in this! We only keep watching time after time, after time…and again and again, because we feel “bad” about the status of their lives. We all want them to do better right? RIGHT?

Of course we don’t.

I personally couldn’t give a squirt of piss what happens to any of the above. But see, I’ll tell you that openly, and that makes me a bad person. I’ll tell you that I see them for what they are…Trash With Cash. And I’ll honestly tell you that I don’t expect any more of them than I do drug addicts that I personally know. Or whores who have not a single ounce of morality running through their veins.
I know that a duck quacks like a duck no matter how much money it has to spend.
And I’ll tell you that without excuses.
But that makes me a bad person too.

What? No, I’m not likening Miley to that…..yet.
See, Miley Cyrus is a product of her environment. She has no idea what the line is before she crosses it, because we (America) have blurred the lines beyond belief. We accept people “expressing their sexuality”, (isn’t that what we started calling it in the 90’s…wasn’t that the write off for ANY deviant behavior...”expressing our sexuality”?) Point being, we accept this. It’s part of our culture now.
We, all the time, watch women flaunt their goods in scant clothing, or tongue kiss other women, or I know, I know…how ‘bout the ole’ “Oops I’m not wearing any panties and I’m getting out of a car” gimmick? “Look, see how I’m getting out of this car right here?!?!? See how OOOPEN my legs accidentally are?!?!? Do you see…..HEY, I’M TALKING TO YOU!!!!”

Yeah, we LOVE that one. And it’s amazing how many young female celebrities forget to put on underwear, and THEN forget that all those people surrounding their car are taking pictures too! Must be all those flashes going off that diverts their attention, huh?

But back to business….why do you think it is that we have a publication like Vanity Fair that’s willing to put a topless 15 year old girl in their magazine?
Well?
Nothing?
Let’s try it this way….*Queue the Jeopardy theme*
”I’ll take Cultures That Have Little To No Morals, for $200 Alex.”
“This culture with little to no morals contains a popular magazine that KNOWS dancing along the lines of child pornography will not only NOT result in the destruction of their empire, but more than likely INCREASE sales.”
“What is Vanity Fair?”

What is Vanity Fair, indeed.
So, Vanity Fair will go on to sell more copies, Miley Cyrus will go on to become more of a household name, and America will wait for it’s newest opportunity to feign shock when the next young girl who’s learned that exposing parts of her body will propel her career, makes her , very calculated “mistake”.
And I will sit here in amazement that people even bother continuing to play this game.
This IS your culture America…this is what you work so hard to construct…it’s your God complex. You hand craft an environment that’s geared around sex and then you set the rules in opposition. When one falters, you smite the sinner.
Only your vengeance is fraudulent. You secretly admire the sinner. You covet their life and all that goes with it.

Miley Cyrus has been conditioned by you. She’s seen how it’s worked for all those who came before her. She’s been told by all of you that her body is her selling point. That no matter how much success she attains through her show and her music career, her body still remains the Holy Grail. It’s the atomic bomb in her arsenal of career maneuvers.
You taught her that, America.

Now stop acting so shocked and let’s all get back to our fiddles, Nero!

The Price of Tea and Mortar Ammunition in China

Don’t let the phallic shape fool you – these are not sex toys.

Here’s my thing… I love to travel. I don’t mean “Ooohhh let’s go to Hawaii because that’s where society has conditioned me to want to go for vacation”. I want to do exciting, dangerous things like swim with sharks, camp overnight in malaria ridden jungles surrounded by angry machete bearing natives, or purchase HIV+ Guatemalan boys for unprotected sex. Uhhh… scratch that last one.

I’m going on a trip to Beijing, China in a few weeks... kind of a routine trip to visit family. And during my trip planning, I was trying to figure out something quirky or risky to do while there. I’ve already seen the Great Wall, explored the Forbidden City, walked around Tiananmen Square, and disrespected the dead at the Chairman Mao Memorial Hall.

Chairman Mao wanted to be cremated, so the Chinese government thought it would be a great idea to pump his cold, dead body full of formaldehyde and put him on display for tourists to gawk at.

I started an innocent thread at tripadvisor.com to work through my ideas with people who are familiar with China. Then I remembered that someone had told me about a place near Beijing where you can pay to shoot military weapons, so I mentioned it in the thread.

Sparky offers me his clever insight on tripadvisor.com.

When I wasn’t being flamed for not using Google enough or accused of promoting “weapons of war”, I actually learned some invaluable information about “China North International Shooting Range”.

It turns out that the Chinese Army, in partnership with Iran weapon supplier China North Corporation, came up with this innovative idea on how to make a quick renminbi. The army supplies the range and the personnel, and China North supplies the weapons and ammo. The result is a place where someone like me, with no weapon or military experience, can fire anti-tank or anti-aircraft weapons, AK-47’s, Uzi sub-machine guns, mortar, or a number of other weapons on the menu.

So for $42.00 USD, I’m going to propel a mortar round into the side of a small hill. Hopefully I don’t end up like this guy…

Awww...Nuts

Alright, if you were given the choice, where would peanuts fall in the overall status of nuts? For me it would be about middle-class. I mean, Peanuts are cool...they're alright, you can shell them at a ball game to pass the boring time between innings. Or you can feel superior about yourself as the waitress sweeps the discarded shells up from the floor around you at a LoneStar. But me, I'd much prefer an almond, or say a pecan -- cashews are up there too. Aw fuck, I just thought about macadamian nuts -- they're way at the top, up there with vagina. Now, as I type this I realize that peanuts are really at the bottom of my list, with only walnuts trailing behind.

Ok, so we've established that Peanuts are really bottom rung nuts...to bottom line it, they're just low rent nuts. Then why no almond butter? What, do we all think that George Carver is such a genius that his invention can't be improved on? I want some pecan butter, or some pistachio butter. Damn it why is there no macadamian nut butter anywhere? And preferably Gif brand, cause that's my favorite peanut buttter.

We all know that a little veriety is essential for long-term enjoyment of peanut butter sandwiches. We have grape jelly, strawberry and apple jelly. There's preserves, jams and marmalades. Let's not forget about the infamous Elvis sandwich, bringing bananas into the mix. And I'm not even getting into the whole veriety of breads, crackers, rolls and matzos you can roll with this. What's that? You toss in some potato chips in the sandwich from time to time? Yeah, me too.

So now, I think it really is time for change in America! Why worship the peanut, just because your parents did? To hell with the old ways of doing business in America. CHANGE. Barack Obama taught me this. He taught me to have hope. Just because my mom fed me peanut butter, doesn't mean that I'll be eating peanut butter for the rest of my days. I can have almond butter! I can have pecan butter. I can have any butter any way I want it. I have HOPE! I have a dream! Can you smell Barack is cooking? YES WE CAN!

Discuss this topic here www.relaxedbrain.com/forum

It's Earth Day!

I'd bet the rest of the planets are pissed! They're probably like "Why it got to be Earth Day? Why you dissin' the rest of the Solar System?" Mercury and Venus are over hanging around the Sun kissing ass and probably dissing us saying that they're so much more awesome than Earth. But that's just like the hot ones, isn't it, to go off and gossip to themselves -- Meanwhile they're probably anorexic, that's why the're so small. Mars probably wants to start a fight, but Jupiter is probably more pissed than the rest. I mean he is the biggest and baddest motherfucker out there, he really does deserve his own holiday when you think about it. Don't worry about that little bastard Pluto though, he's still in deep depression since those scientists took his planetary status away a few years ago. I think he might need to up his therapy to three times a week and we, as a planet need to get together and hide the sleeping pills. I think he's feeling that low.

So....

I had to get a physical yesterday for my new health insurance coverage.
I hate this kind of shit....I always think I'm going to be that guy that you always hear about, where "he just went in for a simple physical...they found the tumor...and he was dead two weeks later".
This time was even more taxing to my stress levels, because I've been having this "issue". A few weeks back, I began noticing a pain in my...well..."family jewels". Now, logic tells me that it began after I had to unload my truck of some really heavy bundles of wood and that most likely I pulled something, or at worst, have a hernia.
BUT, the "you know YOUR luck" part of my brain immediately kicks in to overdrive.
"BALL CANCER!!!" it says to me in that evil, echoing tone that you hear in commercial voice-overs.
To make matters worse, I know this cat that just found out HE had the ball cancer not too long ago, so now it's more of a "real" thing to me than it may have been at any other point in my life. You know, one of those things that you know is there, but you think it doesn't really happen?

So as I was saying, I went in for a physical yesterday with this Doctor that I've been going to on and off for about 5 years or so. He's a decent enough guy, and that's fine for me. I'm not one of these people that think that their Doctor has to be someone that they think of as family. With me, you just have to not be annoying and have some sort of sense of humor. I could never deal with a Doctor that's serious all the time.

This time however, I noticed that he had someone else with him when I entered the examination room. I thought that it might be some sort of an assistant because she looked very young, but then he introduced HER as "Doctor _______ who will be sitting in on this exam".

Now I was nervous. See, I KNEW there was going to be ball issues here...not that they're usually aren't, it's part of the basic "guy" physical...but this time I would be addressing the issue specifically.
We went through the basics of the physical examination and everything was good, then I began addressing the issue with him. Immediately what I do for a living came up, and was acknowledged as being problematic if there is some sort of injury...after all, everything I do requires some sort of physical strain. So, it was now clear that a thorough examination would be needed to see if there were any signs of a hernia, but I still held out hope that he would ask her to leave at that point or something.

But no.
Instead, the worst case scenario went down.

He looked at me and said "If you don't mind, Doctor _______ will be conducting the hernia examination."

*Pause*
Now, what the fuck do you do here? What exactly is the proper protocol?

Here's a transcript of what immediately went RACING through my mind:
"Dude, he wants the chick to touch on your sack!!! We can't have a strange chick looking at and grabbing our junk, dude!!! Yeah, but dude, if we say no to the chick, then we have to say that we would PREFER for him to do it....focusing on the word "him"....as in another GUY. Yeah but dude, he usually does it. But this time we would be saying that we'd PREFER for another guy to fondle our yambag over a hot young chick. Yeah but dude, your sack is attached to your rig...this chick will be looking at your rig, PLUS, you may look like a perv trying to get a cheap thrill here, dude. But dude, if I say no, I may look sexist and come off as a complete douche. But,dude...But,dude....But,dude....But,dude...DUDE....DUDE!!!...DUDE!!!! akhgfoHDOGNNWEONGONWONGN!!!!!!"

*Un-Pause*

"That will be fine."

What? WHAT?!?!? Did I just say that?
Yes....I did.

So I'm told to drop my pants....I do.
This woman now kneels down in front of me to see if there is any protrusion as she's grabbing my sack. Here's the worst part....I *felt* like I was having shrinkage. I didn't look down to see, because then I would have come off as insanely creepy...but it *felt* like it. I mean can you imagine you're this female doctor kneeling down in front of some strange guy, checking his sack for a hernia, you look up, and there he is looking down at you? Do you know how fucking creepy that is?

So picture it....I'm staring straight ahead, completely uncomfortable with the WHOLE situation as a young female doctor is kneeling in front of me, palming my applesack, while I'm thinking that shrinkage is happening, but I don't want to look down to see for fear of getting caught and looking like a freak.

Fucking awful.

Later that night I was recanting this story to my girlfriend who works in the medical field. She said "Well, at least you didn't get erect...I've had guys get erect when I'm examining them."
I said "Are you insane?!?!? It's WAY more manly to get erect when a chick is touching you than to have shrinkage!!!! This is CRAZY the way you're talking!!!!!"
She said "Oh, so you would rather have gotten erect with this woman?"

Now I knew trouble was coming my way, so using my razor sharp wit I responded with "What does it say on the box to preheat the oven at?"

Seriously though...I fucking HATE being me sometimes. I over analyze EVERYTHING, and I'm never at a moment's peace. I would love to be one of those people who just go with the flow...who don't think about anything or what the "right" way to handle a situation is. The kind of people that just "do" and then let the chips fall where they may. People who didn't think there was anything wrong with purchasing a Hootie And The Blowfish CD, or who list "Me, Myself and Irene" in their Top Ten films list, or who have "Flavor Of Love" set to a Season Pass on their Tivo. (Although I do watch American Idol...hmmmm)
But it must be fucking fantastic, and I don't mean that in a snobbish way, because I certainly don't think of myself as bright in any way. But I'd love to able to enjoy things at face value without looking at them too deeply or needing some sort of resolution to the question of what their value was.

I'd just like to be able to have a young female Doctor grab my bag and not feel like I have to write a blog entry about it to explain what was going through my head.

That does it..."Rock Of Love" here I come!!!

The Greatest Comedian To Ever Touch A Microphone!

And if you disagree with me, if have an "agestion" for you...go fuck yourself.
Considering how heated he is about people telling other people to lose weight, and that tell-tale hat on his head, I'm going to assume this is what became of Fred "Re-Run" Berry shortly before his untimely demise.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to have a "banola" bar.

Manson Releases "One Mind" From Prison

Move over Brittany, 50 and Amy Winehouse….this guy originated shaving your head to show how crazy you are, his image is synonymous with evil so being “gangsta” don’t mean shit, and you can’t do enough drugs to outshine this fucker’s craziness…he’s Charlie Manson, and he’s just dropped an album!

That’s right; Charles Manson is now officially a recording artist. Using a Creative Commons license he has released “One Mind” from his jail cell. Huh? Of course I’ve listened to it, my morbid curiosity made me. It’s not really my thing….in fact, I don’t know if you can actually call this an “album” by standards that we’re used to….it’s more like something that a teenager might make in his bedroom back in the 70’s by simply pushing record on a cassette recorder and strumming away on an acoustic guitar…and then other tracks are simply Manson reading poetry he’s written. But I suppose it’s the best you can do when you’re locked up for your role in the most infamous murders in American history.

All of this has had me thinking a lot about this crime and what it's meant to our society as a whole. I've been thinking about the role the media has played in this, and the public perception as a result.

I can't help but feel that this event was the catalyst to a lot of what's wrong in this country as far as the media and the system, or at the very least, helped to illuminate it. In a lot of ways, I find it all very confusing...my thoughts are the matter are often contradictory. I suppose however, that I'm not alone. After all, there's a reason why people still discuss this case until this day.

I think I'll get more in to this here soon...but for now, I'll just leave it as a simple news item.

Here's the link to the album if you're so inclined:

One Mind - Charles Manson

I Really Dislike This Woman Part Deux

Is there anything more to say?

Ok, I know I'm late to the game with this one...but as I told you in my previous post, I've had..."issues".

How do you really explain this? I mean, her explanation was insanely weak ("I may have misspoken") but what can you really say if you're her?
I mean really?

But here's the thing....once you told the story, and Sinbad called you on your shit, wasn't THAT the time to say that you may have "misspoke"? Wasn't THAT the time to say "You know, I may be confusing that trip with another time"?
Something...I mean ANYTHING to attempt to spin, but continuing to assert that you had to "run with your head down" to avoid sniper fire? WHY?

It's just more to the point that this woman can not be trusted.
Her desire to be the first woman President is clearly over-riding any sense of logic that she possesses. And who are the people advising her? Is this an example of the kind of staff she would put together to help her make decisions when the phone rings at 3:00 am?

Most importantly of all...how heated would you be if SINBAD derailed your campaign?!?
The only thing worse that I can think of is if Michael Winslow from the Police Academy movies had taken you out of the game by imitating sounds you made from a bathroom stall at the Baltimore Inner Harbor after you "tapped your foot" for a little while.
(If you don't get the reference...you haven't been reading!)

Dear God, Why Hath Thou Forsaken Me?

Holy Shit! Do you know how many times I heard "When it rains...it pours!" today?
DO YOU?
Well, I don't know exactly...but it was a lot!

Ok, let's begin...

Last night, as I was about to leave with my girlfriend for the YMCA (I'm trying to slim down so I don't look like such a shapeless toolshed....not to mention, I need a decent haircut...anyone have any good recommendations? This shit is out of control now...I look like if Don King and Kramer from Seinfeld fucked and I was the offspring...only Kramer hates blacks, so that's probably a bad analogy.)...oh yeah, so anyway...I was about to leave for the Y, and my cell phone rings and I see it's my employee....
"Yes?" I answer....you see, I am NOT to be bothered after work hours....I'm uppity that way.
"Dude, I've got some bad news." He says.
"What's is this bad news that you speak of?" I ask, knowing that I'm about to wish death upon him.
"The tie-rod on the van snapped or something, and I lost control of it and side-swiped my neighbor's car."
.
.
.
.
.
"Hello....dude you still there?

"Yes, I'm still here." I responded. "It's just that I'm trying to figure out why you did this to my van, and yet have the audacity to still be alive?"

Here I was knowing that I wouldn't have a van to finish my two jobs today. SO, I then figure that I'll just load up the GayRV in the morning (Honda CRV) and finish them with that. Still, incredibly frustrated at the event, I was in no mood for the Y. Instead, I decided to finish a floor that I began installing in my girlfriend's basement the previous day. I pulled out the ole' iPod, put on the "Uhh Yeah Dude" podcast that Bryan recommended to me....and if I can take a moment with that...this podcast ROCKS. It's right up my alley...these two guys clown everything that's wrong with America today in the same way I would with my friends...and they seem to hate Dave Matthews Band too, so right there you know they have decent taste.

But back to what I was talking about....I put on the podcast and get to work. This seems to be the best therapy for me, because I tend to forget about other shit and concentrate on what I'm doing. So there I was, all but forgetting about the whole van thing, laughing at the show I'm listening to and I'm making great progress with the floor....one last tile, AND.....REJECTED!
That's right....ONE TILE SHORT. One....fucking....tile. I reach in to the box and come back empty handed.
Now, I'm pissed at my van, AND this floor. Throughout the evening I would stand on the stair landing and look down at that one empty space. It was just sitting there taunting me. Almost as if it was saying shit about my Mom. "Yeah that's right, bitch...I'M EMPTY..but you know what ain't empty...your Mom's bed...there's a single file line out the door!!!!"
I swear I think it was saying that.

At this point, I write the evening off....I tell myself..."Just one of those days!", and I head off to get a shower and go to bed.

SO, today, I do as planned....I pick up my asshat employee and we load up the GayRv.
"Screw It" I think to myself....I'll just work with what I have today....lemons and lemonade.
There we were...a better outlook....driving down Rt.141 as the rain pounded against the windshield..."thump...thump...thump...thump" went the windshield wipers, as they fought valiantly against the downpour...."thump...thump...thump...th..................................."
HUH?!?!?
Why did the wipers stop thumping? I CAN'T SEE!!!!!!! DA FUCK?!?!?
That's right....today....THIS DAY....the day that I desperately needed the GayRV....it failed me.
It seems that a bushing broke and a whole inner mechanism needs to be replaced, which will be happening tonight.
But *today*, I needed the GayRV. I needed it to be there for me...but instead, it teamed up with the Work Van's tie-rod and the empty space on the floor.
It formed an alliance with those who seek to impede my progress.

Fuck that, I say!
I stopped at the nearest Home Depot once the rain subsided a bit....grabbed some Rain-X and a squeegee. Yes, like a fucking homeless man, I was going at my windshield with a squeegee and covering it with Rain-X, so the water would just BEAD away as I drove.
Fuck the Tie-Rod...Fuck the Empty Space, and FUCK the GayRV...I will NOT be stopped.

Both jobs = Done!
Wipers fixed tonight.
Work van at the mechanic.
Tile finished tomorrow.
Employee still an asshat, however.

But more importantly, we've learned something here today.
We've learned that owning your own business is NOT what it's cracked up to be.
Hustling around trying to get shit done, owning work vans, and fixing up girlfriend's houses is for SUCKERS!

Drug dealing and hookers....HERE I COME!