Live every week like it’s Shark Week.
and
Never follow a hippy to a second location.
From season 1 and 2 of 30 rock. Mad props to them for also using “By the hammer of Thor,’ as an exclamation, multiple times with multiple charachters.
I thought this was just a New York thing, spearheaded by my sister and her cohorts, but no, I’ve seen the slow trickle-down-fashion-effect here too. Just tonight, three young ladies at the coffee shop were sporting this unfortunate trend.
People! Specifically, Women! Tights are not pants! Do not be confused by the 80’s – maybe you’re too young to remember but It wasn’t ok then, and it certainly isn’t now (we have the internet now, you all should know better). It’s fine that people in New York engaged in this – they do a lot of other questionable activities – but for the love of god this is Texas, we’re better than this. This year alone we’ve survived, pants-suits and skinny jeans, I’m not sure that we as a texan-nation can handle another challenge of this magnitude.
Fortunately, the good people at tightsarenotpants.com have provided us resources to defend against the lycra clad onslaught. Download their presskit, and pray for the youth of tomorrow. We must not stand idly by.
When watched on television it looks very odd – like 16 bald men thrashing around in a pool for no apparent reason. Even when you get a close-up, the ear-protectors on their swim caps aren’t helping at all. Why is it even called polo, I see no horses ?? Horses in the pool would improve the spectator aspect of this game. That and chain mail. And swords.
Yeah, this sport kind of sucks. No way am I allowing any water-polo players in on my zombie plan, as they are clearly some of the weakest sauce of the summer Olympic sports.
Struggling to eke out a living for the past 20 decades, the U.S. populace has supported itself with odd jobs in the fur trade, tinkering, information technology, and pharmaceuticals industries, but has finally succumbed to the mounting pressures of modern life. The nation plans to strike out on its own come fall, when the weather’s cooler, hoping to make its fortune and perhaps find a little patch of soil to call its own in the sprawling wilderness between O’Hare International Airport and the Great Pacific Ocean.
I’m inclined to join them.
I have relationship with lightning that could be characterized as decidedly unfriendly.
To be fair i think that most living, breathing creatures that want to remain in the practice of inhaling and exhaling, are not really too cool with bolts of electricity shooting from the sky. But it really seems to have it in for me personally and my dad as well, by association, I suppose. The reason being, lightning – and really the whole New Mexican system of monsooning afternoon thunderstorms – is out to thwart us. I have been rained on, snowed on, pummeled with hail (thank god for bike helmets), and oh yeah, I’ve gotten that little tickling feeling while standing on the side of the highest point in the state, 500 feet from the top, as all the hairs on the back of my neck went vertical – that special sensation to let you know that Zeus is taking aim (we tactically-withdrew, booked it, scampered, retreated, fled, monty-python-ran-away (take your pick) that particular time).
Smote by the weather gods – a series of abortive hikes that my dad and I have attempted, and for the past four years been turned back from our destination.
This year, though we finally made it to Lost Lake, a spot I hadn’t been since i was at least 14-years-old. As hikes go it’s kind of a classic – rockslides, switchbacks and of course, kick-ass views. And the best part – thunderstorm free for once. We didn’t go all he way to Wheeler, the aforementioned highest point, but we’ll chalk it up to a scouting mission for next year, maybe an overnight excursion – it’d be pretty amazing to watch the sun come up over that lake.
The other bit of epicness on this trip was, of course the South Boundary. Read more →
I would like to extend a formal, heartfelt and entirely sincere apology to Brian Pinero. I’m am truly, deeply and profoundly sorry that my post, on my website, that I maintain, was so terribly un-interesting to you. In the future, I will be sure to craft all my content with you exclusively in mind. As a start I’m dumping the bike category of posts in favor of a Fantasy Football section. Really.
Toby: Bobby, hey do you know if sell out is one word or is it hyphenated?Bobby: I dunno but damn, these freedom-fries and burgers are good.
Or at least that’s how I imagine the creation of the Toby Keith – I Love This Bar (and Grill), went down. I saw one of these restaurants on my very short trip to Las Vegas last year and was praying it was just one of those Vegas-things like drinking at 7am – funny and kitschy but something that you’re thoroughly disgusted by and pretty much guaranteed to have a negative impact on the rest of your day.
Turns out, this thing is actually a chain, and the outfit in Vegas is just one of many bars (and grills) based on a bad country song. The closest one I could find is in Oklahoma City…by god, we will take up arms at the Red River should that idiot redneck, who can’t find sleeves for any of his shirts, try to sully Texas with such an establishment.
Let me be clear about what’s really irritating me here – I known and enjoyed the company of few rednecks and this guy should not be their representative. Most of them do not have mullets, do have all their teeth and 90% their shirts have sleeves. Many of them do have highly conservative ideals (with which I disagree but respect), a rich history in south and a strong tradition of agriculture (you know, the guys who raise all the stuff you eat, like those freedom fries). North of the Mason-Dixon line they’re called farmers, and respected as providing a vital service to our society. For some reason, a 5th Avenue Marketing firm decided that southern-ag-types (rednecks) are bumbling, alcoholic idiots, and country music, which used to actually mean something in its early folk years, has whored itself out to play along by churning out bumfucks like this guy and his ridiculous restaurant.
From their site…
Leave it to country music legend Toby Keith to create a restaurant that offers great food and the best live music in Oklahoma City.
Really, that’s the best hype you can do? Not to knock Oklahoma here (cause that’s just too easy), but that’s not saying much. Apparently they even offer Redneck Loveseats. What the hell is a Redneck Loveseat? Have Toby Keith’s marketing people not seen Brokeback Mountain? The I Love This Bar (and grill) experience also features over 100 pieces of Toby Keith memorabilia. Has this guy been around long enough to generate that much crap ? Are they going through his trash to find Toby Keith Genuine Used Deodorant sticks?
And yes, you will only find fries of the freedom variety on the menu. There really is no hope for the future.
I fully acknowledge my propensity to fat-finger a keyboard (I even bought one with special huge keys), but at least I don’t make road signs. I checked and the rest of the street signs are spelled with a “c.”
While the Republicans are passing a resolution celebrating Christmas, the president was vetoing health care for children. There’s a little bit of irony going on around here,” McDermott said Thursday. – (AP)
Man. Happy holidays Tiny Tim.
Apparently, according to the bible, we need bears in our schools to keep the children in line.