Where Ya Goin' In Such A Hurry?

This weekend in the Puget Sound area all us drivers will be under tighter scrutiny by the Washington State's Patrol Officers for "Speeding." Speeding is anything over the posted speed limit for the area you are speeding through to get A) To Work or B) Home from Work.

Why are you speeding... TO GET TO WORK?

If you have a job you can't be late for, other than neurosurgeonist or my bartender or the headliner, you need to find a better job.

If you have a job on-salary, chill out, you've done your part.

If you're speeding home I hope there's a hawt love basket waiting for you, or expensive carpets and a small-bladdered dog. Otherwise, relax. Your neighbors will be there to bother you any ol' time.

In the meantime, here are a few ways to not deal with speeding tickets.

1. Stop hitting your snooze button 8 times. Every 5-8 minutes is adding to your commute and stealing your sleep. Sleep a little longer, hit fewer red lights, and stop tailing people in your shitty car.





2. Stop tailgating in your shittay car. If you can't afford a nice car, you can't afford to back-crack somebody who's trying to listen to their GPS directions. When is the last time you were tailed by a Mercedes E-class driven by somebody for whom English is the first language? Ever been rear-ended by a BWM 5-series? No. Not a 5-Series from the 2000's.





3. Go, like, SUPER F*CKING FAST. You can't get caught if they can't catch you. Although that Sanjaya from American Idol was recently nabbed for doing like 105 in a Mazda 6, so unless you can get beyond 106, don't even try. You'll just look like more of an asshole.

The state needs to generate revenue, and stopping speeders is a great way to do that. Tickets are coming, folks. It's going to be a bigger hassle to fight the ticket than it is to take your foot off the gas pedal and get within 10miles/hour of the speed limit. The people who bitch the most about the cops and their invasion of our rights aren't reading this blog, so I'm fine if they get popped for doing 75 in a 50 in 95 Neon. This doesn't target "poor people," it targets people who make BAD DECISIONS with money and cars.

Body kit = 2 months rent outside of parent's home.

Hey... let's be careful out there...

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Obama's Message Failed Us All

President Obama's message to the nation's youth and school children - but NOT the Home-Schooled Children - missed on few key points yesterday. The children, who some believe are our future, of this nation have a daunting task ahead of them when considering the changes needed in Health Care, Reality TV programming, Stand-Up Comedy, and Organic Farming. The President's moment had arrived to speak to the children, directly, and to the parents of those children IN-directly, and to the baby-daddies of many of those children unintentionally. And the ball was dropped.

In such a large forum it was surely important to address education, personal responsibility, mandatory birth control, FaceBook pictures, and not getting a neck tattoo of a basketball before the age of 20, no matter how much of your ass shows above your long shorts, you clown. Those tatts only make it easier to identify you, which the police, and the coroner, will appreciate.











How did President Obama fail?
He had the opportunity to say anything to these kids... ANYTHING... and here's a list of what he should have, and did NOT, tell them...

1. "It is in your best interest at all times to RETURN YOUR EMPTY SHOPPING CART TO THE CORRAL, instead of the empty parking spot or half-way into a planter near your car. And call your mom & dad on this monumental laziness at all times."
2. "Your family pet is a pet, not a tool. Unless you are one of our nation's sight-challenged youth who uses a service animal to help you navigate public areas, DON'T BRING YOUR DOG INTO THE STORE, ever. If it can't survive in the car or the living room, it's probably going to die in Frozen Foods. No matter how cute, eventually, somebody will bring a larger and larger and larger dog until the local grocer aisles are roamed by pumas handled by illegitimate owners. NO. DOGS. IN. STORES."
3. "Your music sucks. Your brains are absorbing a ton of over-emotional drivel from the likes of Rihanna, One Republic, Hinder, Linkin Park, Beyonce, and yes, even Lil Wayne. The list goes on and on. The louder you music has to be in order to sound good, the less intelligent you will be for listening to it. Do what you like with that."
4. "Deadwood should be wrapped up with a movie. Demand it now."
5. "In closing, regardless of the color of your skin, the ancestry of your bloodlines, or the behavior of your friends, nobody likes loud, rude, crass, unintelligent, boorish, mush-mouthed jabber. If you can't say something nicely, keep it at yo' self."

Of course, there's far more to have been covered, but I think we all know what's-what here. In an era of Me First, My Phone, My Face, look at ME ME ME ME... and then ME is very unimpressive... at some point SOMEBODY has to step up and say "ENOUGH."

Don't leave it to the kids. Educate them on how to act with class, tact, manners, and courtesy. We don't need kids acting like prim & proper little dorks, but using the words "F*** Yeah, I gots a HEEYOOJ bowlzak fuh yo mama!" almost NEVER ends with getting invited to the pool party.

As for the Healthcare message, you CANNOT put a price-tag on human life.
They're not all worth the same.

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Uggos Got Talent!

Susan "The Brow" Boyle rocketed into the first 3minutes of her fame 2 weeks back for a knock-out singing performance on "Britain's Got Talent." It stunned the judges - including Simon "The Brush" Cowell (he who made Clay Aiken gay), who we're slowly finding out may have had something to do with, oh, you know... keeping Susan in the basement until the world needed a Prejudice Makeover. Boyle heats it up, folks. Go watch! (can't embed the vid here)

Simon Cowell... a master marketeer and promotional wi-zar-do? >shrug< style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0); font-weight: bold;">like a garage," and was once mistaken for a flock of bats. Yet we are so dearly impressed and uplifted at watching a person who is not "traditionally attractive"/traffic-stoppingly off-beat-looking express themselves in a beautiful way, especially through music.

If this person had been WWOOOHWOWOWOOOWOOOOOOOOOO on a didgeridoo outside the Pottery Barn, most folks would probably light one of them on fire. But under the lights, backing tracks swelling up and we are FOR seeing somebody we wouldn't give a second look belt out some showtunes.

Let's see...

• Shunned by most based on their looks
• Awkward because of the previous statement, yet wanting to stun the world somehow (without their own centrifuge... NOW I'm in The Database for sure)
• Plenty of time to practice

And that's what we get. A monster, uncaged, in the spotlight they've thought themselves into a thousand times in their life.

Paul Potts

CREED Shreds it up!



I'm out, GOOD NIGHT, Rock Ugly!

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Lent Me A Hand

It is Lent, for those that know what I'm judging you for, and I had to give something up for it. I figured I'd look at what I'm doing, vice-wise, and drop one of the top 3 things. I'm pretty lame, when it comes down to "serious partying" these days. I don't drink enough, smoke enough, eat enough, wank enough, or go roof-shooting nearly often enough to warrant any of them to be dropped.

And I figured if I had to give up something that I wouldn't have to trot out an explanation for at a party, that's the best way to go. If everyone's throwin' down like Kennedy's at a 90th birthday party, or carb-loading on their way to an emotional crossing of the English Channel... and I'm sitting there with tepid water and a cracker, well COME ON, I'm gonna be the 8-baby-bearing Ut'rus Jackson at the party. Ev'a'body gonna wanna know. If nobody's doing the thing I gave up for Lent, then it's my secret and I won't have to say a thing about why I'm not joining in at the Mitzvah.

Then a circle jerk broke out... Damn it.
Next year, I'm giving up Attrition.

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Lawbreaking ASSessor Gets DUI Investigationated!

HA HA HA HA HA HA!

Noble, county assessor, under investigation after car wreck

By SCOTT GUTIERREZ
P-I REPORTER

King County Assessor Scott Noble is under investigation for vehicular assault after a serious accident last month on Interstate 5 that may have been caused by driving under the influence, according to a Washington State Patrol report obtained Tuesday.

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I am very thankful that nobody got hurt in this accident, after Fartbag Noble U-Turned on I-5 and went face-to-face with a Jeep Liberty and 2 young ladies. Very happy they are okay.

Here's why Noble's a mid-Summer's night bag of catshit on feet.
Home values in King County are down to lowest levels in 4 years.
Yet he raised the "assessed value" of properties, raising property taxes for the year.
In an already heavily-taxed state.
Therefore the Free Market is not in control, Capitalism is not in control. One office is in control. "We think it should cost X Amount."
If I could get somebody to buy it for X, then Y haven't I sold it yet? Because Zhit's sits for too long and ain't nobody looking to buy a condo in Kirkland. Yet. Again, a man with some shit to bury got hisself into a bad situation. Makes me hope my skeletons are in order.

It's very likely that he is right in some bylaw, but I know what's right.
And if I can, I will directly say it to Noble's face; "You murderous drunken sot, I was the one who shat-painted the inside of your mailbox. Shalom, dickeyes."

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Lee and Ray = Bad News

For some reason, people with names of Lee and Ray in their CV's usually end up with some crazy schidt happening in their life. I've documented it before, HERE.

I think it may be that their parents gave them the shortest name possible, foreshadowing the darkness that would someday drip from the doublewide's wood paneling. Other than Ed or Al, this is as short as you can go without getting down just to the initials, which is an entirely different nametag job.

Ian Ith's Seattle Times Column HERE:

A 70-year-old West Seattle woman was choked and stomped to death in her apartment Friday by her grandson, possibly because she had been trying to get him to move out, police said.

King County prosecutors expect to file a murder charge by Thursday against Deon Lee Fillmore, 21, said spokesman Dan Donohoe. Meanwhile, a judge has ordered Fillmore held in King County Jail on $1 million bail.

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Shopping Mauls

This morning I read where Macy's closed 11 stores after a weak retail season. CLEARANCE SALES NEXT WEEK!!! It's a foreclosure sale on INC, Alfani, and Tommy Hilfiger!

Not much foot traffic, and likely, not much via the web, either. Money's tight, if you're tight with money. Or for myriad reasons. I think I used "myriad" properly.

But also, retail sales dipped the past few years for a few reasons that I can point out here. How correct they are, in a "traditional" sense, is of no concern. I'm right, for the wrong reasons, okow? BOKAY!

1) Retail Employees: Most seem to work under the motto "If I have to fold clothes I can't afford, it's gonna suck for you, too." Not my fault, I didn't schedule you to work on your due date. OR, they go the OTHER way, and you can't make a move without being accosted, confronted, and suggested-to about an item. I can't stand either of them. Either I'm putting up with a ton of misdirected attitude of the bad sort, or somebody's climbing my back to introduce me to their, LIKE, FAAAAAAAAAAAYVRAT DENIMS! The training that goes into these folks is what's getting screwed up. I can't get that kind of treatment at home!

This fully excludes places I have visited like T.Petterson, LaRee Boutique, Posh, and Barney's. Hmm, the high-end places make me want to return. Weird. Prob'ly a quincidunce. I can't get that at home!

2) The Environment: Nothing says "let's shop!" like blaring techno, rap, or house music.

3) This is taking too long...

I don't want to drive into a crappy part of town, crowded with cars and dipsh*t, unsupervised teenagers who apparently shoot at each other now, and park, walk all over, and deal with it all.
Food courts. Teenagers being loud. Slow walkers. Gibberish languages.

Which is why I MUST. To NOT go is to deny a very American experience. I need to let that stuff go and accept that this is Part Of Shopping. All I can do is what's RIGHT.

Which is to alert Mall Security that the group of teens over there was shoplifting, and see that they are escorted out. The mall is for shoppers.


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It All Ad's Up

Hey Reader!

Look, I love you, you know this.
I know you know this.
You know I know that you know this.

So what I want you to know is that the Google-ads you see on the top of my blog here? Those are on-purpose.

I haven't been commandeered nor tortured into posting these ads.
I included them based entirely on one principal:

EARNING MYSELF AND MY WIFE SOME MONEY VIA THIS BLOG TO FACILITATE OUR MOVE TO THE HOLLYWOOD DREAM RANCH, and to donate to charities we see fit and important, of course.

Shoot, if Carson Daly can be a millionaire, any of us can. Will you help me?

Your clicks on those links cost you nothing, so please check out a few sponsors there, and see what you find!

My thanks to you. I'll never forget you when it comes time to find somebody to help me bury a body.

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Somebody Had To Say It

Well... I finally did it.

I often tell people to open their mouths to the inconsiderate folks in their midsts and let that inconsiderate person, or "assclown," let them know they need to pick it up a notch.

I took a pull off that bottle tonight at the grocery store.

I worked 10 hours today. I was there about 10 hours, is what I'm saying. Cut to the chase, I wasn't in the mood to be held up from getting home. Not by traffic. Not a woman who did F-all for the entire day except find her favorite navy blue capri pants and a shirt with stars on it to match those pants. And wear sunglasses inside.

Why did we invent the roof?

So I saw this woman moseying about the store, cart packed with all sorts of items. She pulled one of my favorite moves: Cart parked in random spot, shopper flits off to find something three rows over, cart is in everyone's way. I usually move the cart to a safe spot. Not until I've deposited cart-ward the most expensive item in the vicinity. This time it was a multi-greens powdered shake mix. That'll run ya 'bout $33 a tankard. Enjoy.

Oddly, I go over my 15 items so I have to go into a regular line, of which 2 are open. I get in behind, you guessed it, the Shaded Wanderer, or "Bitch Nose." I asked God to direct my focus elsewhere, and He answered. I turned to my left, and behind me was a nice older lady (older as in "High-waisted lavendar pants", not older as in "Dude, your aunt is single, right?") She had only two items in her cart, both of them for a surely aloof if not near-death cat. I asked her if she'd like to go ahead of me, she had only a few items.

"Oh, that's so nice, but no thanks. I'm going to lean here on my cart for a moment," she replied. "Sweet ass, though."

I made part of that up.

She had on red pants, but I digress...

As the Lady Still Wearing Sunglasses Indoors (5'6''-ish, bottle-blonde, spray tan, lots of gold jewelry, no discernible income) is finishing her transaction, including $33 for GreenShakes!, her credit card slip is handed back to her JUST AS HER PHONE IN HER PURSE ON THE FLOOR RINGS.

I wouldn't answer it. You wouldn't answer it. Then again, we don't drink box-chardonnay until 5 and then burn it off with a shopping trip. Even though we've been meaning to.

Of COURSE she dug through her purse for her phone before signing her slip. Why the hell else am I writing this in a mu-mu?

So as the guy hands the slip back to her and she launches into a conversation about what to have for dinner, she gets at least 45 seconds (count it off, it's longer than you think) into the chat as though nothing else was happening around her. No shopping. No other people. Zoned out. Until finally she says "Well what do you want me to do about it?"

And I just kind of nonchalantly said "Signing your credit slip would be nice."

The check-out guy had a look of surprise on his face. Ten seconds later, she said "Well, I have to go, I'm at the store and I need to sign my slip." Ten more seconds. An extra minute of time. Of life. Burnt by someone else. My favorite moment was when she hung up and acted exasperated and said to the cashier "Gosh, my daughter, she's done with school and moving back home and she can't figure out what to do for dinner and I'm trying to get settled into my new house, ya know?" She just tried to blame the last minute on HER DAUGHTER and HER LIFE.

The cashier was very nice to me, and laughed as the lady walked away.

Nobody forces you to answer your phone unless you're in a hostage situation, which this ALMOST turned in to. Very simply, being aware of the other people around you, common courtesies, the simplest of niceties can take you very far in life.

The lady behind me with the cat supplies nearly threw out her back trying to lift her 10-lb bucket of cat crap-sand. I offered to help her again when I put the little grocery divider down and said "You should really get smaller, lighter bags." Jeez, what an idiot. Some people, huh?

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