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Friday, April 03, 2009

A Few Things

They're saying 10 inches of snow by tomorrow. Good thing I took the night off! (Next week I go to the day shift. I figured I needed an extra day to be able to stay awake past 2:00PM.)

I had my drivers license hearing this morning. The verdict? Not in yet, but I'm already stocking up on lube.

First a black president and now gay marriage...in Iowa? That's judicial activism I can believe in. The end result: Until at least 2012, gay people will be free to get married, not civil partnerships, not domestic unions, married to whoever they want, boy or girl.

What happens in 2012? The apocalypse. No, that's the earliest Iowa's Republican lawmakers can pose the question to voters. By then, thousands of gay people will have been married for years (some of them might have even gotten divorced!) and we'll see what the voters have to say.

Speaking of gay marriage, have you heard Amy Winehouse's new song? It's called, "Madonna tried to buy a baby, but Malawi said no, no, no."

I guess I'm just past the point where adopting African children and opening schools in third world countries impresses me. I'm not sure it ever did. I certainly never thought it was harmful, per se, and I still don't. I just think it's kind of lame.

There's something colonial about it, as if these children just need a western school or the glare of paparazzi bulbs, you know, just to get some culture in em. And of course, by now it's just a cliche. So and so went to rehab, so and so had plastic surgery, so and so adopted a baby from (Pick a country in the Southern Hemisphere).

Booooring.

But you know what's not boring? The Random Friday Ten.

1) Heart - Barracuda
2) (Fucking) Van Halen - Ain't Talkin Bout Love
3) Cry of Love - Peace Pipe
4) Nirvana - Plateau
5) Tommy Tucker - Hi-Heel Sneakers
6) Jimi Hendrix - Burning Desire
7) Patsy Cline - Back in Baby's Arms
8) Hatebreed - Straight to your Face
9) Creedence Clearwater Revival - Long As I Can See the Light
10) Miles Davis - Miles Runs Down the Voodoo

This is Your Idea of Improvement?

Unpack this one in your mind.

Pat Bowlen decided to end the Shannahan-Cutler era by...

Ushering in the McDaniels-Orton era. To quote C3PO, "We're doomed."

(In other sports news, the Nuggets clinched a spot in the play-offs. They're also the number 2 seed in the Western Conference. Big news, right? Not in this football town. We're still obsessing over a dude that's not even on our team anymore. Sports fans...we're idiots.)

The Great Shakedown

The Aurora PD was out in force last night policing the highways. In one stretch between interchanges, I saw three different cops pulling over three different cars, and then further down the road, a fourth!

Now I can't think of a legitimate reason why traffic enforcement is the priority on Thursday night that it wasn't on Wednesday night (or any other night for that matter), so I can only conclude that the city of Aurora needs more money.

Since raising taxes is practically impossible in a post-Bush America, where even the idea of a tax increase, no matter how small or necessary, is greeted with howls of socialism, the city does what any good kleptocracy does: they shake down their own citizens.

Note to the city of Aurora: If you need money so bad, why don't you save yourself some? Fire a few cops!

Two Things I Didn't Know

1) That you can't touch the Queen Mother. Which leads me to ask, how on earth did she ever become a mother???

2) That Rush Limbaugh broadcasts his show from New York City. (You know the line and you know how to deliver it: New York City?)

Wouldn't that technically make him one of the coastal media elite?

Thursday, April 02, 2009

Raspberries All Around

To Jay Cutler:

Your sense of entitlement outweighs your list of accomplishments. Let's see: Got your starting job when Jake Plummer choked, never made a single play-off appearance, fulfilled only a third of your contract...

And because your boss "wasn't straight" with you, you're taking your ball and going home?

Fuck you, Jay!

Try working for the phone company, man. (Or any company, for that matter.) You won't make millions of dollars. You won't get an "off-season." Your boss won't be straight with you. And you wouldn't be able to afford to throw your little hissy fit.

A little perspective, please. Like I said, get a real job...see how far that attitude takes you.

To Pat Bowlen:

Knock knock.
Who's there?
Orange.
Orange who?
Orange you glad you played the "fire the coach" game?

Maybe the Shannahan era really had to end...but it hasn't really been working out too well, has it? Since you're the man with the plan, Pat, and it's your plan that's failing...well, you get the heat.

To Josh McDaniel:

I'm not sure how much blame can be laid at your feet, but let me ask you this:

If Pat Bowlen knew that hiring you would result in trading away Jay Cutler, do you really think you would have gotten the job? I doubt it.

Pot to Kettle: You're Black

This Colbert segment cracked me up. Not Colbert's jokes, per se, although there were quite a few zingers, but that part where Glenn Beck cries (literally...with actual tears) about "the media surrounding us" had me rolling.

Sorry, but I'm not going to listen to complaints about "the media surrounding us" from a guy with an eponymous TV show on primetime, an eponymous syndicated radio show, an eponymous touring stage show, and several bestselling books.

Glenn, you are part of the media! So shut the fuck up already.

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Wednesday, April 01, 2009

Life of Crime

In case you were wondering where I've been...well, there's no easy way to admit this, so I'll just come out and say it: I spent the weekend in jail.

And no, this isn't related to my past legal troubles --no trash dumping or illegal driving. This is something new, and as scared as it makes me to admit it, something entirely serious.

Let me explain:

For the last month or so, there's been a massive graffiti problem in my neighborhood. I don't know all the details on it, but I suspect two rival high school "gangs" have been having a war of words via spraypaint on other people's property. They got my fence a couple weeks ago --which was no biggie because I sanded the gang signs away -- but they've also been hitting everyone with a garage or shed or any kind of outbuilding that faces the alley.

You drive through my alley and you can see that nearly every building has been hit at least once. It's kind of annoying.

Anyway, this Saturday before bed I was taking out the trash and I spotted a pair of kids over by my neighbor's shed. At first I didn't think anything of it, but then I heard the distinctive sound of a spray can and quickly figured it out.

"Hey!" I yelled, and apparently they hadn't seen me because as soon as they heard me, they freaked. They dropped their spray cans and started booking.

At that second, I could have just left well enough alone and went back to my life, but no. I gave chase, which was fucking dumb. It didn't occur to me later that I could have been shot, but at the time I was running on adrenalin and anger, and I was gonna get these suckers.

Luckily, neither of these kids were star atheletes. One managed to get a decent lead on me, but the other, who was lugging about twenty extra pounds, started sucking wind and losing speed. I caught him easily.

And he must have been as scared as I was angry, because he immediately collapsed on the ground, rolled onto his back, and started flailing at me with his feet. I tried to swat them away so I could grab him by the shirt and pull him up, you know, give him a good "talking to," but one of his shoes smacked me in the mouth.

Not a fatal, or even harmful blow, but it hurt. A lot.

And I just lost it. No more yelling. No more trying to block the blows. No, this was war. My fingers curled into a fist and I brought it down. Again. And again. I punched him until my fist throbbed and all the gangster defiance had been replaced with tears for mommy.

That's when I looked up and saw the squad car. I didn't even see the cops. I just felt them.

I haven't been tackled like that since I was in football, and back then I wore pads. To their credit, within thirty seconds of getting me on the ground, they had me in handcuffs, no pepper spray, tazer, or baton needed.

I didn't struggle. The knee at the back of my neck made sure of that.

Of course they ran to the aid of the kid, and even when I tried to explain that he was responsible for all this graffiti, but they didn't care about that. They were more worried about the grown-ass man that nearly killed a kid with his bare hands. (Go figure.)

Once I was in handcuffs, it was all pretty much over. They talked to the kid for a while, but I don't know about what since I was in the back of the squad car, and to my amazement, they let him go. I doubt they even cited him for graffiti, the little punk.

Me, though, my fun was just beginning. They took me down to the station and booked me. And when I say "book," I mean they threw it at me. Assault, menacing, not to mention resisting (which was bullshit; they tackled me!). They wanted to bust me for kidnapping, too, but cooler heads prevailed apparently.

I was able to get out Monday morning, thanks to a bondsman I found in the phonebook, and have to return in another two weeks to enter my plea. I've got to get a hold of a criminal defense attorney before I decide how I want to handle this. Do I want to plead guilty and hope for probation? Or do I want to fight it?

I have no idea. What do you think?