Do you see what I see?

Look down towards the middle. Little further. Little more. There it is.

So who wants to go? dontEATnachos is going. I am going. Any other cool kids want to hang out with the big leaguers and cobagitate?

(HINT: It is May 14th!)

A question, if I may...

Do they call it a paddywagon in Ireland?

What is up with these chicas, indeed?

I have been rollerblading 10 miles a day for the last two days. No big deal, but I am feeling the burn. Whatever. The potential health benefits are nice and all but the social benefits are not really nice at all. Supposing I lose some weight, which is not really likely in that I am more likely to just start packing on pounds of muscle, could I ever trust any person that decided they wanted a piece of The Genius?

I don't think so. That relationship would be based on totally shallow visions of my sweet ass. Of course, the reverse is absolutely untrue.

Also, further evidence that Republicans are duplicitous dogs.

Somebody please kill me

The boss doesn't want to turn on the AC. It is pretty damn warm in my office. I have the window all the way open. This helps with the occaisonal breeze. Working next door to a couple of music teachers can be maddening some times. Now, for example. I am incredibly antsy to get outside and do cool stuff like run run run out this energy and I can't yet. All I can hear are leaf blowers at the moment and damn if i don't want to go strangle some freaking poor bastard* lawnscapers. But back to the previous annoyance, I now have Puff the Magic Dragon stuck in my head. I am slowly losing my will to fight the urge to start singing this song at the top of my lungs. In the office. At my boss. While twisting the life out of his neck.

I have been sitting in my office printing crap for the other boss and humming the Puff song to myself and thinking about walking next door and slapping the little shit in the face until he performs it perfectly. Then I would strap him down and force his eyes open and make him watch that movie until he has it freaking memorized. I could probably tell you the exact number of those noses in Honnalee.**

Kids today just aren't being raised right.

*Sympathetically meant, I have worked landscaping before and there are only three weeks all year in DC when it is a good job. This is one of them.
**Incidentally, 37. Or 42, I just don't remember at the moment.

Celebrity Dream Cameo?2??, or The Mating Habits of Tarantulas, but not How I Learned to Stop Worrying...

Well, my celebrity dream cameo number 2 was not posted. I am not sure how I feel about that. It wasn't really my best effort. The dream I had involving my younger brother, rollerblades, punk werewolf rollerblade gangs, aliens, predators and the ever expanding nephew was pretty damn awesome. The other dream I had involving Hugo Weaving, Bruce Lee, Hope Chest and a some naked chick that I was (surprise) not having sex with was pretty odd. I should really send that over on my lunch break. Pinko Punko, will you set your fax machine to "Massive Load", please?#

In any other news, I have almost completed moving. All but one box and my bike are in my new place. As yet, I have not been able to make it through to the power company to switch the services and I have not even begun to fight for the interwebs. Helob is not at all happy with the new place and stalks around in a pissed mode. Incidentally, reading spider body language is pretty damn hard. The difference between happy and pissed is subtle. Pretty much the only way to tell pissed from happy is whether or not Helob is currently eating a cricket. In my mind, this explains why so many newlywed female spiders* end up eating their young husbands. Among spiders, many males are completely comfortable with the idea of couples counseling. They don't want to be eaten anymore than I do. Although, I suppose the incidents of cannibalism among spiders would be significantly reduced if the men would stop moisturizing with barbecue sauce.+

Where was I? Oh yeah, when the choice is you life or counseling, I suppose that is a good motivator but I prefer Plato. See the thing about Plato is that he's good and whatever. I was in some shop the other day and I smelled Play-Doh. That stuff was great. If I had misbehaved@ and was banished to my room without dinner, Play-Doh was there as a toy and snack, if necessary. A bit like a boyfriend or husband if you are a female spider.

#Seriously, just ask PopRen about my massive plunger defying loads of dung.
*Spiderellas?
+KC is not great for your skin either. A-1 tends to aggravate ex-ezc-exema although I find it has quite a pleasant bouquet.
@I thought I never misbehaved. I always knew exactly what I was doing, so how is that mis- anything?

Bitch, Bitch, Bitch

I finished moving to my new apartment. All my stuff is everywhere and I have been showering at the office. I also haven't gone to sleep earlier than 3 AM for three days in a row. Normally, this is not a problem, but then my normal waking hours previously were sometime between noon and 1 PM. I get up at 7 AM. I feel hung over. I can walk home for lunch now and try to put my bed together during my lunch hour. This evening I can get my TV, stereo and DVD player all put together and then go through the boxes I packed and get rid of 300 pounds of stuff. A good portion is going to be my comic books. Those I will try to sell off and if that fails, I will mail them to a guy I know in Chicago that can move things for me. I had thought about keeping them until I bought a house and then wallpapering a bathroom with the comics. How cool would that be? Well, I'll tell you. IT is sucha cool idea, I saw it on cRibs once. I will then go through my books and get rid of the Robert Jordans which should make up the rest of the 300 pound goal. Hey, teh l4m3? You said your library needs books, right?

Some Ninja Facts:

Ninjas are mammals.

Some ninjas are doctors, but only for disguise purposes.

Music: The Lovemakers

I like the album. I am not confident in their ability to sound cool and fresh in ten years, but for now they are great. They remind me in certain ways of Therapy? Therapy? was awesome when I was a junior and senior in high school because they reflected some of the near-insane levels of anger I felt on a mostly daily basis, but now they sound more than a little silly. Not simply because I have moved on from that age and those issues, but because the quality seems firmly rooted in the mid-90s punk wave cresting.* The Lovemakers have this sound that feels destined to remain rooted in the mid-00s and never really break out of it. A bit like the Cranes.

Incidentally, I don't think I can really listen to them anymore but not for any of the reasons I have previously stated. I am not going to explain this either, so piss off.

*This may have only been a resurgence in relation to me and not in relation to the ebb and flow of punk.

Fridge Note to Ruth! Malhotra!

"Isn't it so nice to live in a country where you can sue for the right to harass and abuse other people? That is just what Jesus preached! I love the part in the Bible! where Jesus says that everyone should throw stones at those who are different! That was such a great lesson in love from the Son of God! and all that!

Kisses!

Your friend in preaching the Lords' hate of His! Creation!

Cobagger!"

Oh yeah, one more thing, go drown yourself in the cesspool of your heart, you non-Jesus Freak.

Chuck SMASH!

The commute yesterday morning sucked rocks. Literally. I made a mistake with my new bike. I hadn't ridden it very far before I tried to bike in to work. Turns out the rear tire had a slow leak. The previous owner would not have known this because he used it as an exercise bike. I found this out when I was three miles or so into the middle of nowhere and the tire went flat. It had been leaking and I finally hit a rock in such a way as to cause a pinch puncture. So I hopped off and repaired that bitch like a pro. I then inflated and loaded my gear and was about to take off when I noticed the tire was flat. So, I took all my gear off again, flipped the bike over again, removed the tire again, and located the second pinch puncture. This time I carefully went over the tire looking for any other leaks. I couldn't find any. So I repaired the second set of pinches and tried to go on my merry way.

I didn't get too far. I pulled over after noticing that I seemed to be low and found air escaping around the valve of the rear tube. This was a puncture I couldn't fix. I inflated the tire as much as possible and started racing down the path. I got to the bike store and saw that it wouldn't open for another hour and a half. Fuck. Well, I could try inflating the tire every 100 yards or so...after doing this twice the rage was reaching unlimited proportions. What the hell had I done to deserve this? All I wanted was a nice bike commute to clear my head before going back to work for my moron boss. Anyway, I then found out how fragile an aluminum tire pump is. Pretty damn fragile. So fragile in fact that it is not hard to damage one beyond use when one is furious. I think I disrupted a few golf games in the nearby country club while I was bellowing curses at that frakking pump. Thereafter, I had to walk. Which really didn't help my mood.

Upon reaching the second bike store on the trail, I discovered to my dismay that it wouldn't open until 11. It was ten after nine. I was supposed to be scoping an apartment at 830. This was the final straw. I completely let go of all my anger, unpacked my crap and schlepped to the metro. I got to work minutes before 10 and changed and went right to business without a shower. Ick.

The apartment was nice, but I am fairly sure they won't let my rent there due to the fact that the rent is half my monthly paycheck. Anyplace in the District is going to cost me that much or more. Since everyone discriminates against men in roommate arrangements on the DC Craigslist except for those too far out for me to live, I am pretty well fucked and shall be living on the street as of Sunday. How awesome is that? Not at all. Although, I may be able to practice my street fighting skills by avoiding the advances of amorous 'omeless...CHUCK SMASH!

UPDATE: I just got that apartment. Hooray for $2 per square foot. Man, I will be missing my fifty cents a square foot place. To go from ~1000 square feet to 426 plus closets, bathroom and kitchen will be tough, but I am tougher.

A Note for Adorable Not My Girlfriend

I was previousy a shitty liberal. I sat on my ass and blogged my complaints. Well, no more of that crap. I shall post signs in places unreached by even the raddest taggers of the District. I shall post them on the billboards. I shall post them on street signs. I shall post them in the alleys. I shall post them until my last breath of this oppressive air!1!!

Also, I'm more hard core than you.

Extra-Special Operation 213: Evidence!1!!

These signs are nothing new and I apologize. I am going to hit a new place every weekend. I must find a new apartment and move in less than 7 days, but the mission must proceed. As I was leaving the scene, I saw a police cruiser heading down Mass Ave toward the south east facing sign. I wonder if they even noticed it:



Cobag in Chief: Indeed please indulge in the consumption of the mass quantities of fecal matter with which you have been polluting our country. I believe Scooter Libby has already started.



This photo is an aerial shot of Thomas Circle. The top of the circle is north. All photos taken by a helpful passerby who was in no way an accomplice or involved in any way with the creation or posting of these signs. It was all me. And fulsome helped with the design, of course. I hope that holds up in every court of law. K? Thanks!1!!

Extra-Special Operation 213: Accomplished

Pics and full report to follow in the next day or so.

Never Mind

My boss is a total assbag. He shafted me in the review and I got a tremendous goose egg for a raise because of it. In spite of the fact that I saved them thousands of dollars in fees, tech support and temp costs this year. Fuck. Well, at least I am still earning 20K a year! Wheee!

AND ANOTHER FUCKING THING

You dipshit donkey fucking moron, you blamed me for not doing work which you never asked me to do at the fucking shit monkey conference! You motherfucking shit eating son of a rat whore's bitch. You also said I never meet deadlines becuase you hand me a set of deadlines that have already fucking expired and then ask why the work hasn't finished? I am going to rip off your fucking 70s douchebag wannabe porn mustache and make it into a jizz mop and then glue it back to your fucking comb-over nimrod ass head and then cram all your goddam Chaka Khan albums up your wife's ass so far she'll be tasting vinyl for a week! You can't even be trusted to take care of a car and you try to fucking criticize me on all the tech in the office? You thought it was "one of those new cars that don't need oil." How fucking dumb are you? Oh yeah, that's right. You are so abysmally luddite, you type with a gnawed off femur. I asked you to buy a laptop and the only thing it needed was power point and the mother of christ's sister gangraping husbands office suite! And you couldn't do that! Without me you'd be sitting in your fucking chair wondering where your hands were and why you ass hurt! EAT SANTORUM AND DIE! You have as much capacity for rational thought as the crap I just took.

Please! It is spelled poseur.

Perhaps I should elaborate. I bought some CDs yesterday. I shouldn't have, but I wanted to feel cool after having a bitch-fest with my functional computer illiterate boss. I bought The Flaming Lips At War with the Mystics(apparently the Lips hate the WNBA team), Hard-Fi Stars of CCTV(concert report coming later today, I swear and verbatim, too!), Johnny Cash At Folsom Prison(can't get enough Cash) and The Life Pursuit by Belle & Sebastian. This equation leaves us with one conclusion. I am a poseur. I am not a poser, because that would leave in some sort of redeemable state. I am a poseur because I have only seen one of these bands live and only bought one album because everyone else keeps talking about them. So remember, hipsters, it is spelled poseur and if you don't say it with a snotty (snooty?) wannabe French accent, it isn't worth saying at all.

As an unrelated aside, even though my boss takes every chance he gets to point out a mistake I may have made and even though most of those mistakes turn out to be misunderstandings on his part due to lengthy and entirely too accurate explanation on my part, he is still in my all time top five bosses. All three of my bosses here are. This leaves one with three conclusions: he isn't that bad, I have had immensely crappier bosses in my life, or I have only had five bosses in my life.

Premeditated

I will be out on Saturday morning placing the signs from Monday's escapades. DC will love me. Or call me Borf 2.0, which would be annoying.

Wow

In case anyone cares to learn the President's, sorry, Cobag in Chief's priorities. After all, why argue without the facts? That would just be cobaggy. Perhaps even a little chunderiffic.

More on Wal-Mart, Fascism and the Republican Agenda

"The fascist state regulates and controls (as opposed to nationalizing) the means of production." -- Canuck in the earlier post's comments

The best part about your statement is right there, Canuck. Without trying to piss you off, I would like to direct your eyes to the 'Made In China' labels on nearly all of the non-food items at Wal-Mart. If you are against fascism and government controls, then you should not be shopping at Wal-Mart. Many of their products are made in Chinese prison factories.

Furthermore, the bill does not say that Wal-Mart must offer the employees health care (another issue altogether, that should be a standard benefit), it says that Wal-Mart can not foist its employee's health care onto the state. This prevents larger government because if the state is providing health care for all, then the state must have a large health care system. Conservatives claim that they don't want large government or full public health care.

Those who support Wal-mart in its attempts to refuse benefits to its employees are also tacitly supporting a monopolistic economy. Allowing Wal-Mart to continue behaving the way it was allows for a competitive advantage conferred by the state of Maryland. This is an endorsement of a company by a government. This is not a free market economy. A free market economy forces all companies of similar size and business nature to abide by the same rules and regulations. Wal-Mart was trying to skirt the rules and thereby gain an advantage. The only difference between their actions and a company illegally dumping waste is that the people that work for Wal-Mart are not waste. Wal-Mart just treats them like waste.

Only Republicans claim that they are in favor of a free market economy. If you look at voting records and the results of their work and ignore the contents of their shallow, meaningless speeches, you will begin to learn that this political group does not care about citizens and the rule of law. They care solely about money and their big budget donors.

My life was ruined once...

Twenty six years ago, an event ocurred that changed and ruined my life forever. Well, not really, but I am still annoyed that his expertly painted Tau slaughter my expertly converted Legion of the Damned every freaking time.

Happy Birthday, bro.

The Wally World Bill in MD

A while ago, someone asked me to give my opinion on the bill that would require Wal-Mart to pay for its employees health care instead of dropping them off on the stoop of every taxpayer in Maryland.

This is a very good bill. Companies should not force the government to pay for their employee's health care. The bill was only labeled the 'Wal-Mart Bill' by Wal-Mart and its representatives in public relations and the State House. The bill states that any company which employs 10,000 or more people in Maryland can not get away with forcing its employees to use Medicare for their health care needs. These companies must offer some sort of plan. Apparently, the jackals, sorry, the Republican representatives in Maryland and Wal-Mart consider this bill and unfair burden that will render Wal-Mart uncompetitive. This is complete and utter bullshit. This bill reverts the competitive advantage that Wal-Mart gains by shoving its employee onto the Medicare system. If this means that Wal-Mart will pull out of Maryland, then that is just another added benefit. Let's get an American Apparel plant to move in. Or something. Wal-Mart is so full of crap, my eyes turn brown just looking at one.

Also, Wal-Mart wants to destroy the public education system of America. How patriotic is that? Removing the school system would only be another step towards a division of class that would be so utterly against our founding principles that it would make Carter weep.

In conclusion, bite my ass, Wal-Mart. I will never shop there again. It has been four years, almost to the day, that I last bought anything there.