Saturday, May 30, 2009

The Night Stalker lives on

I saw a book on the discount table at the local bookstore the other day that caught my eye. It was about history's worst serial killers and gave a short summary or each killer and the crimes they committed. As many evil faces as I saw in that book there was only one that really stood out to me and that was Richard Ramirez.

Ramirez , a.k.a. The Night Stalker, killed at least 24 people before he was arrested and never showed any remorse for the lives he took. He may not have been the most prolific serial killer in American history but that's not why he stuck out to me when I saw him.

No what really brought my attention to him was the last line in the book's bio about Ramirez. That line mentioned that Richard Ramirez was awaiting execution on death row at California's San Quentin prison.

What pisses me off is that Ramirez has been on death row at San Quentin since he was sentenced to die 20 years ago. What is wrong with our justice system that a convicted serial killer who is sentenced to die by lethal injection gets to chill out on death row for 20 years and counting?

Another person that spent the better part of his adult life at San Quentin before finally being put down was Stanley 'Tookie' Williams who was a co-founder of the Crips gang in California, and who killed at least 4 people back in 1979. Many people objected to Tookie Williams being executed because of all the reform he had experienced while waiting on death row. I am guessing many people objected except for the family members related to those he killed.

I am not arguing for or against the death penalty here. I am arguing for the cause for following through with the death penalty in those states that allow it. If you allow the death penalty and you convict people of murder and sentence them to die get on with it already. I am not necessarily a believer in the death penalty and that is probably because the death penalty is a joke. We are so consumed with the rights of convicted killers that we have lost sight of what the death penalty was supposed to be in the first place. The death penalty was not just supposed to be a punishment to those who killed others, but it was also meant to serve as a deterrent to would be killers if they committed such heinous acts against a law abiding society.

The death penalty in my nation would be run a little differently. Death sentences would be carried out publicly and in the most gruesome manner as possible according to the crimes committed of course. It would be like an eye for an eye to the extreme. These public executions would be open to all and would be broadcast on every form of media available at the time. My goal would be to scare people so fucking badly about the punishment that they would not ever kill someone unless they truly wanted to die a horrible death themselves.

I know there are people who rally against the death penalty and will say that my ideology is ridiculous and outdated, but I truly don't think so. In fact, it's the lack of conviction in killing the convicted that encourages more people to commit horrible crimes against others. It's the liberal agenda and their belief that everyone gets a second chance (except the victims of course) that has several hundred killers sitting at San Quentin as it is.

I have the same argument with guns and gun ownership. We don't need less guns, we need more guns and we need to give them to the right fucking people. Likewise, we don't need less of the death penalty, we need more of it and we need to apply it to the right fucking people.

I guess my nation wouldn't be all that much fun for killers and their lawyers would it?

Friday, May 29, 2009

Spring Drivers

I love to drive. I like the feeling of the road under me and the better the vehicle the better the experience. I notice a million things around me when I’m behind the wheel and sometimes I even notice the road. Lately, I’ve noticed something about other drivers. Drivers coming up behind me to be more specific.

As the frost starts to leave the earth in the cold weather states, it causes the ground to heave up in places and form some amazing bumps, or ramps, as I like to think of them. Hit one of those suckers just right and you’ll feel like you’re driving the General Lee and ‘Dixie’ is suddenly blaring from your horn. As much fun as driving that particular car would be, you don’t want to find yourself airborne over a Maine road in the spring, for two reasons. The first is that the next ‘ramp’ is flying toward your car at an unbelievable speed and the second is that there is always some animal just waiting to run out in front of you. In other words, late winter is a great time to slow down and just enjoy the free pounding you and your car are in for. This rule applies to most any vehicle and the smaller the car the slower one should travel. If you’re fortunate enough to own one of the old dinosaurs like a Cadillac or Town Car then none of what I’ve written before now applies to you. People aren’t kidding when they say the cars of the Seventies were like couches on wheels. They had all the handling capabilities of your average dairy cow (and almost as much leather) but they could handle any bump or rut the road threw at them. I think these cars were designed this way because it was mostly old people that were buying them, and besides liking big cars, old people needed cars that wouldn’t break their hips when they got into the potholes.

Now, I normally drive at or slightly above the posted speed limit unless I am in my gay van. People waste way too much money every year buying devices that will help them thwart the police’s use of radar and laser speed detection guns. All you need to do is get a minivan. As far as I can tell the cops don’t even turn their guns on when you’re driving one of those things, even though they are the homeliest, most ungainly things on the road. I bet I could take a minivan, stuff a thousand-horsepower engine in the back of it with no mufflers whatsoever, paint the thing hot yellow with bright red flames shooting down the side and I still wouldn’t get a sideways glance from the po-leece. No one expects anything from a family mover and that’s a hidden gift because if you need to motor down the interstate at a high rate of speed, you’re home free. When’s the last time you saw a minivan get pulled over for speeding? Most cops don’t want to even be seen that close to one of the damn things anyway for fear of its total gayness rubbing off on them.

Anyway, when late winter arrives and the road starts to look like it froze in the middle of an earthquake I start slowing down just enough to avoid destroying my car in some weird flying accident with a deer. This year my car has been under the weather so I had to start driving my truck and I found out that I needed to go even slower because of the truck’s stiffer suspension. The funny thing about a truck is that if you put a little weight in the back of it you will pre-load the rear springs and it will actually ride a lot better, but if you leave it empty, the thing will try its best to break your back as it skids all over the road. So, I just leave it in forth gear most of the time and plan on taking a little longer getting to, where it is, that I’m going.

Not everyone on the road wants to follow my ‘Late Winter Rule for Driving in Maine’ though. Some people are going drive ten miles an hour over the speed limit no matter what the weather or condition of the road may be. Usually these are the same people you see with a cell phone in one hand and a coffee or newspaper in the other, while they steer with their knees. I once saw a woman, in the local store, who had tried to put her makeup on while navigating a Maine road in the spring and it looked like she’d been on the losing end of a lipstick fight with Tammy Fay Baker. It was pretty scary. She had red streaks all over her face and some in her hair yet she managed to not get any on her lips at all. I was impressed.

“I bet the folks at Revlon would be happy to see you abusing their product like that”, I told her.

“Well” she said, “I didn’t think the road would be that rough when I started putting it on.”

I kind of screwed one eyebrow up and said, “Oh, so you’re not from around here huh?”

“Oh no, I’ve lived in Maine all my life”, she said.

“Lady, it’s March, what in Hell do you mean when you say you didn’t think the road was going to be rough? Jesus H., Mary and Joseph, I saw my neighbor out there this morning scrubbing her unmentionables on the washboard section of road in front of her house! How can you say you didn’t know? Are you retarded or just dumb?”

Her blondness wouldn’t let that last part penetrate as she just giggled a little went into the bathroom to wash the red nightmare from her fat little face.

The selected few out there who can’t drive a little slower on the rough roads always seem to end up behind me at this time of year. As I mentioned before I do drive a little slower because my back can’t take it and I don’t have any way to roll my truck back on its wheels should I flip it over. With all these people driving up behind me I’ve had a chance to observe something that seems very interesting to me, even though I can’t explain it.

When a man drives up on my bumper I know it will only be a matter of time before he goes around and leaves me in his dust. I don’t slow down anymore than I am already driving but I will make sure that I’m not taking my half of the road out of the middle so people can pass when the opportunity arises. Men will take any chance they get to go around even if it means leaving the ground in the process. I can’t say that I blame them because I am a man and if I had a better rough-road vehicle I’d probably be passing them instead of the other way around.

Women, on the other hand, take a different approach when driving behind someone who is going slower than they are. A woman will drive up on my rear bumper, just like a man, but for some reason they will not pass. I’ve seen it happen dozens of times this year alone and it has really started to pique my curiosity. When I look in the rear view mirror now and see a woman coming up behind me like she wants to give me a reach-around I do the same thing that I do when it’s a man closing in. I pull away from the center line a little bit and maintain an even speed so that they may pass when they get the chance. For some reason women simply will not pass. Even after miles of pavement have fallen beneath the wheels of our vehicles, and I’ve slowed to a snail’s pace, I know I can look behind me and still see them riding me like a cheap hooker. They don’t mind being about four inches away from my rear bumper as though they’re telling me to hurry the fuck up but they will not go around. I don’t understand it, but I refuse to actually pull over when there are many places to legally pass someone who isn’t going as fast as they are.
Maybe these gals look at it as a good time to put their makeup on despite the rough road conditions and the reduced reaction time they have by drafting me. In fact, maybe there would be less lipstick scarring if these ladies would just back up a little bit, or fucking pass already, because then they would be able to see the dips in the road instead of just the one in the mirror.

'Come on, come on, marry for the money...'

I had a conversation at work recently that reminded me of something that I had talked about with someone I know a few years ago. I'll mention no names in an effort to protect the innocent and the not so innocent.

The conversation that I had with the unnamed person had to do with people going to college and what colleges they went to. This person was talking about going to Colby College and then getting a job at the school as a secretary or whatever. Never mind the fact that it doesn't make any more sense to me now than it did then, it still made me come back with a smart ass (but truthful) reply.

I basically told her that if my daughter went to Colby and wasted a couple hundred grand to turn around and become a secretary at the same school I would probably smack her one upside the head. Needless to say, the girl felt offended and proceeded to tell me that there was nothing wrong with being a secretary.

I said, "I never said there was. I have no problem with secretaries whatsoever, but you sure as hell don't need to go to the most expensive school in the state to be one. Hell, I think you might even be able to work your way into a secretary job with a high school diploma."

She then told me that a lot of women will get the degree at the expensive school so they could land a doctor or whatever and the secretary job was just the means to the end I guess.

I don't claim to be any smarter than the next person but life experience does bring with it a certain amount of education. Life had taught me a few things now that I am on the downhill side to 40 and approaching fast and the rest of what I don't know I am pretty much able to intuit with old fashion gut feeling.

One of the things that I think I can safely say is that a woman does not have to have an education from an overpriced liberal arts school to land a doctor or lawyer or some other high dollar earning professional. Rather, I feel there are two of three things that a woman needs to possess. The first thing is an ability to live with and be around an arrogant asshole as that is what a lot of doctors and lawyers end up being. I can't necessarily blame them because their professions are steeped in it and they have had to claw and scratch their way up from the bottom with all the school and exams and bills and bullshit. Having said that, it takes a special person to be able to put up with that in the person that you are living with and usually you find that it takes someone who acts the same way. The only thing worse than a man who is an arrogant asshole because of his position and his money is a woman who acts the same way for the same reasons. I have never laughed as much to myself as I do when I think of every snotty person living in a rural town in a rural state acting like they are just a little better then the rest of us, only to find out they are more dependant on the rest of us than they would rather be. The same asshole lawyer or doctor who wants to treat his neighbor like a piece of old dog shit on his heel doesn't always dare to because that same neighbor has the truck that can pull his BMW out of the snow bank when he gets stuck. So a if woman who is looking to do some gold digging can put up with a douche bag she will have made it past step one.

The second and/or third part of this formula depends on the individual, but I will lay them out in the order that it occurred to me when I was thinking about all this. I've already said that you don't need to have the fancy education that cost Mom and Dad most of their life savings which you have no real intentions of paying back. A college education doesn't prove that someone is smarter than someone else and we all know this is true when we think of the number of morons we all know that have degrees. A person's wits don't come from college, rather they get the title they will apply to their resume in an effort to get a job or jobs later on in life.

But, just because you don't go to a nice school or any at all does not mean you don't have to have a certain amount of intelligence about you to make it with someone who is going to college for 6-8 years or even more. You have to be smart enough to put up with someone that driven, as well as being able to make them believe that you're not an idiot so they won't treat you like one. A doctor is going to want his wife to be able to hold a conversation with him so he feels like he can talk to someone who knows what he is saying at the end of the day.I'm not saying that bimbos don't end up with doctors because they do but that is the third part of my theory. If you didn't go to the fancy school to get the useless degree and you're rather numb than you need to employ other strategies. In other words you need to be able to suck a mean dick. I mean you need to be able to take that thing and show him how it's meant to be used, and not just that either. You better keep coming up with new and exciting ways to let him violate you. You need to do things to that guy that your mother didn't tell you about because she couldn't even imagine down to the level of depravity. If you're stupid (and if you're chasing a doctor because of the money then obviously you are) then you're going to have to do some freaky things in the bedroom and you're going to have to mix it up as well. You're going to have to do shit that is so crazy this guy won't cheat on you for sex because he knows that no one else is ever going to give him what you are willing to do. Will it be demeaning and demoralizing to be an unpaid hooker/porn star? You bet, but not as demeaning as the fact that you were gold digging in the first place.Obviously, the need to keep the face pretty and the body lean and mean plays heavily into this last one because it just goes with the territory. Freaky sex chick or not, no one wants a dumpy two bagger. The good news is that once you land him, his money will keep you in Maybelline and Botox for a long time to come.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Your word is Loser.

Can someone please tell me what it is about spelling bees that brings out the nerdiest kids on the planet? I have nothing against spelling bees or the fact that most of the winners over the past few years have all been home schooled and have all the social interaction skills of your average low land gorilla, but seriously...

What in hell do spelling bees prove anyway? Do they prove how smart someone is because they have spent hundreds of hours scouring the dictionary and learning what the root origins of lots of obscure words are? Perhaps, but does that make your average spelling bee winner any more capable in life? Not likely. Some of these kids couldn't get laid in a whorehouse on red tag day with a fistful of fifties but at least they all know how to spell prostitute.

Some good words for these kids to learn in the great spelling bee of life might be words like ass-kicking (as in, ' I got a hell of an ass-kicking after I left the spelling bee rally last night.'), masturbation (as in, 'I've never even kissed a girl besides my mom so I guess I will have to stick to masturbation'.), or sucks (as in, 'My life really sucks.'). I added the 'as ins' in case people wanted to have their words put in a sentence.

By the way, how old do you think the poor bastard in the above photo is? The guy that looks like a 25 year old virgin, who's possibly a pedophile, that just crawled out of his mother's basement. That kid's only 13 if you can believe it. Not only are most of these kids nerds to start with which is okay in itself, because a lot of us have had at least one nerdy spell in our lives myself included, but come on. First, he hasn't had a haircut in what looks like 6 years and then they drape him with a billboard sign that makes him look like he's posing for a mug shot after robbing an all night liquor store. Then they put the mic 6 inches shorter than it should be so poor Quasimodo here has to hunch over just to ask what the origin is for the word schlep.

Parents, be proud of your children and encourage them to do their best in life because, as parents, that's pretty much your job. However, it's also your job to keep them from doing things that could get them hurt and I think spelling bees fall into that category.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

I'm free, free fallin'

I read a news story yesterday about a man in China who jumped off a bridge in an effort to commit suicide. Actually, he didn't jump but was pushed. He threatened to jump and a friendly passerby decided to give him a helping hand.

It seems that this bridge in question has been quite popular with would be jumpers and 11 other people have threatened to jump off it in an attempt to end their lives this year alone. No one actually jumped up this point and they were all talked down.

The man in question this time seemed to be of the same ilk as the rest of them, standing on the edge of destiny without the apparent conviction to carry out his last Earthly deed. A 66 year old man who was watching below managed to get past the police barricades that had been set up and made his way to the top of the bridge where he talked with the would be jumper for a minute before shaking his hand and pushing him off. The man fell the 8 meters to the ground and landed on a partially inflated rescue bag sustaining injuries to his back. He survived and was taken to the hospital while the pusher was arrested and taken away.

I can't say that I condone pushing someone off a ledge or bridge if they claim to want to commit suicide but I find it amusing to say the least that someone had the balls to call this man's bluff. The pusher made a statement as he was arrested saying that people like the jumper he pushed don't really want to commit suicide and they are just looking for attention from the government for their woes.

I would never make light of someone who was actually and truly thinking of killing themselves but for all those who just pull stunts like this I think it is funny as hell. I bet that if there were a designated pusher on every high place on the planet where someone might contemplate jumping from, the number of suicides by jumping would drop drastically. At least we would see who was really telling the truth about wanting to die wouldn't we?

I used to work with a person who talked about killing himself all the time and had even admitted to thinking about doing it at work with a piece of machinery. I had listened to this all I could stand one day and finally told the guy not to be killing himself at work. He told me that I didn't have to worry because he wouldn't mess up the cab of the machine he used knowing that I would be next in line to operate it. I told him that I couldn't care less about the machine or the cab of it, but that when quitting time came around I didn't want to be stuck up in the woods with the state police while they investigated his suicide. It sounded cruel but I had tried to console him with every angle I could think of and nothing worked so I resorted to being an asshole about it. The funny thing was he finally got himself a girlfriend who was horny like a toad and his talk of suicide stopped. I have no idea if those thoughts returned once he realized she was crazy as as she was horny because I left the job, but I do know that he still hasn't offed himself and I feel like I was a small part of that equation. Would I have felt bad if he had killed himself at home after telling him what I did? Perhaps, but in a way I was just calling his bluff because I didn't see him as the type that was serious about it. Most people that are serious about killing themselves don't talk about it, they just go ahead and do it before they start thinking better of the idea.

Please don't kill yourselves but if you feel that you must, please do us all a favor and just leave a nice note saying 'Goodbye cruel world' and do it already.

I am sorry if I have offended anyone by this but it is as tame as I could make it without totally diluting what I think.

I need to sign off now and start looking to see if anyone is seeking a designated pusher for the top of their tall building. I could use the work and hell it would be fun(ny) to see the look on someones face as I gave them the ultimate send off.

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Butt Seriously

Sometimes you see something that makes you laugh no matter what feeling it should invoke in you. My daughter recently brought home a Ripley’s Believe it or Not book and we have all enjoyed looking at the oddities inside its brightly colored covers.

Of all the weird stuff on those glossy pages there was one thing that stood out in particular to me and I have been chuckling over it ever since.

A young man from Poland had cancer of the tongue and while that is no laughing matter the treatment his doctors decided on was more than humorous. After cutting his old diseased tongue out they needed to fashion a new one for him if for nothing else than so he could try to manage some form of speech for the rest of his life. Now, if it had been me I would have wanted something too as long as it meant that I would be able to talk butt ( I spelled it 'butt' on purpose), on the other hand, if it had been my ears that were cancerous I would have told the doctors to just get rid of the old ones because I have heard enough shit in my life and it would nice to not have to listen to people anymore.

The fact that the medical professionals were even able to consider giving this man a new tongue of some sort is nothing short of a miracle to me and needs to be stated as such. Having said that, I also think that the area they decided to carve out to make his new tongue could have been thought through a little more.

Apparently the best place to get flesh and nerves from for a new tongue is the buttocks or ass cheeks in the vernacular. It’s not that this guy now has a tongue formed from one of his butt halves it’s the way it looks sitting in his mouth in the accompanying picture that went along with the story. The new tongue looks normal enough if a little fat for the guy’s mouth but that’s not what makes it so um interesting to look at.

No, what makes it funny (read: gross) is that the man’s new tongue is sitting there in his mouth in all its glory covered in the same hair that was apparently growing on his ass. You can’t make stuff like this up and to see that piece of flesh in that poor bastard’s mouth with hair sprouting out of it was just too much for me. I laughed even as a shiver of disgust went through me.

Why the fuck didn’t they at least shave it before they took the picture? Obviously it had been in his mouth long enough to heal and for the hair to grow back out on it after the surgery so you’d think they could have given the guy a razor or some electrolysis before snapping the photo. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph that thing looks like he started gnawing on an animal or bit into someone’s…well, bit into someone’s ass to be frank.

Not to be prejudice here but being a Polish man how is it going to be for him the rest of his life? People will constantly be telling him to stop talking out of his ass or to quit it with the shit already. God the guy is going to be the butt of every joke. Heh, pun definitely intended there.

The worst thing for me would be the hair on it I think. The plus side is that oral sex wouldn’t be a problem as you wouldn’t even notice the pubic hairs getting stuck between your teeth anymore once you got used to your own ass hairs getting lodged in there. And, you can bet that the sharing of lollipops and Popsicles would be all over for that guy as no one is going to ask him for a lick of anything ever again.

The bad side is that I imagine there would be many times when the guy would be talking and he would have to stop and do the little spitting routine that one does when he or she gets a hair on their tongue. I don’t want to even think about getting butt zits on my tongue either.

Truly, this story is almost like that game people play with each other where they ask the question: Which would you rather do or have done? Would you rather have no tongue forever and not be able to talk or would you rather have your own hairy ass cheek carved into and a tongue formed from that? Whether the ass-tongue would include a lifetime supply of shaving cream or Nair would be up to the person asking the question. I can’t say what I would rather have but I am glad to have seen the picture in that book so I could at least make an informed decision before some scalpel happy surgeon looking to make a name for himself decided to cut into my tongue or my ass.

Where does it all go?

I saw an infomercial for the 'Kymaro New Body Shaper' the other day while I was in the garage milling around. If you haven't seen the Kymaro in action, the idea is simple. The suit is made out of what the company calls microfibers, but which I suspect is a variation of Lycra, and you put it on the same as you would any other undergarment. Once you squeeze into this thing it flattens stomachs and makes back fat disappear. At least that is how they advertise it.

In reality, all that happens is everything gets squeezed above or below the body suit so the impression of a more hourglass figure is given.

In the infomercial there were some rather beefy gals doing the before and after shots with the Kymaro and the results weren't too impressive as far as I was concerned. The professional model was able to pull it off quite well, but she already looked like a size 2 with 36 DD tits. It's hard to not look slim when you already are.

One woman wore the Kymaro and talked about how happy she was and how she lost all her back fat and her muffin top as she put it, describing the layer of fat some women get above their groin. The funny thing about a muffin top is that it looks like one in tight pants but depending on how well you stay up on your genitalia slang, you find that the term muffin top fits rather well.

Anyway, this poor girl went on to say that she lost 5 and 1/2 inches from her waistline and how many dress sizes she lost and blah, blah, blah. All I could think of was, 'No you didn't lose shit, you just added five and a half inches to your hips, ass, and the roll that is now right below your tits.'

I honestly don't have issues with big people and these girls were all pretty big, but when will people realize that you can't spend years putting weight on and then strap on a modern day corset and suddenly become thin. The Kymaro infomercial proved that you can't even look thin.

I know that some guys are into big girls and to each his own but how would you feel if you thought this chick was really hot in your big girl fantasy sort of way, only to find out that she was even bigger than you thought. Actually, I guess if you're into bigguns you might actually be turned on by more of the girl suddenly appearing when she peels out of the Kymaro. In fact, it could be like Christmas morning to anyone who is into fat chicks I suppose.

In closing I will say that the Kymaro is no different than a product that promises to make your dick bigger in seconds with no creams, drugs, rubs, etc. You order your bigger dick kit (I just like the way that sounds as it rolls off the tongue) and when it comes in the mail, you find that you have bought yourself nothing more than a strap on rubber cock extender. The difference is that the Kymaro comes off before fucking and the rubber extender goes on before fucking, but I am guessing the reaction from the opposite sex (or perhaps same) is about the same.

distorted disclaimer

Hi there,

This being my first post on my first blog I thought it appropriate to make a small disclaimer. While most of what a put here will be an attempt at writing about the humorous things I see and hear every day, I make no promises that it will entertain, enlighten, or enthrall you. I am cynical in nature and I tend to write things the way I see them, even if they aren't really that way at all. I don't do a lot of research when I am spouting off because I honestly can't be bothered with it. I decided that a blog was the best way to go because at the end of the day my thoughts are just that; my thoughts and opinions however flawed they may be.

If you have stumbled onto this blog accidentally and you like what you see, please stay and read whatever I put out. However, if you find yourself turned off or offended, then please go to or some other blandness filled site and have a great life.

Thank you.