A Quarter After Never

My Mother in Law has been pretty ill lately. It looks like she’s going to live, although the Father in Law said the stay at Vandy has resulted in $220,000 in invoices so far. This may lead to enough resentment that he bludgeons her to death out of spite…we’ll see.

During her convalescence, my wife said, "We need to go see my mother."

To which I replied, "Ok, call me when you’re on your way home."

"I said we need to go."

"I thought you meant you and the kid."

"We’re a family."

"…"

"What?"

"Well, she’s not my mother."

"You’re going."

I’m 38. When do I get to make my own decisions?

Man Nipples I’ve Licked = 1

At the end of a deployment people get very relaxed. Even following a simple four month TDY on the East Coast.

When your family is miles away you bond quickly cuz you see the same people day after day.

Tonight while others drank (I had the night shift) we said a few goodbyes to people leaving tomorrow.

There were water ballons thrown. Man boobs groped. Shadow fondling of balls. And a photographer catching it all.

At one point a man saw the camera pointing in our general direction. He did what men do. He thrust his nipple in my face. Basically, I was taunted. I felt I’d been called out as a pussy, so I stuck out my tongue and coated that hairless nipple in my saliva just as the camera snapped.

The owner of said nipple squealed and jerked away screaming, “Oh God, I feel fucking dirty!”

Even though I had a man’s useless nipple in my mouth…I feel like a winner.

I Don’t Think You Listen to the Things I am Saying

Typical conversation betwixt my temporary boss and me (partially fabricated):

Her: Did you get the email I sent this morning?

Me: No, I haven’t been to the base yet.

Her: Well, I sent it this morning.

Me: Yeah, but in the Air Force’s infinite wisdom, I can only check that email from a military computer on a military base as I am not hacker enough to spoof the machines into believing I’m coming in from a dot mil address. I haven’t been in, ergo, it has not been read.

Her: I sent it this morning.

Me: It’s 3 o’clock. I know you work from 8:30 to 3 every day. I think you forget that on day’s like today, I won’t have launched my last mission until about 2 in the morning at the end of my 12th hour.

Her: Nobody checks their email.

Me: Do you hear me?

Her: I don’t understand what the big deal is, just check the email.

Me: Are you a fembot?

Her: I want people to check their email.

Me: What did the email say?

Her: There’s a karaoke party down the street tonight, everyone is welcome.

Me: Tonight?

Her: Yes.

Me: In the middle of my shift?

Her: Uh, yes.

Me: Well, I don’t think I’m going to make it.

Her: Ok, I just wanted to make sure everyone was invited.

Me: I’m going to go check my email now.

Great Lyrics are Great

The problem with living in Nashville is that everyone you know is a music snob. Some people say they listen to anything, but that’s bullshit. The first thing I do when I hear “I like everything” is turn the radio to NPR or 92Q (for those not familiar with Nashville, 92Q is our local “urban” station. Don’t say black, you fucking racist). Suddenly, they will reveal that they do not, in fact, like ‘everything’. However I digress.

I am not a snob at all. I proudly proclaim my love of 80’s hair bands and pop. Anything generally shallow, happy, and catchy. I don’t care for bands still angry with their parents or teachers. (Note to ‘Artists’: If your life is still fucked up at age 25, you need to take a cue from Michael Jackson. No, don’t make the sex with children, I meant you need to look at the man in the mirror and grow up.) As to depressing music full of angst, keep it…I’m good. I prefer to listen to songs of lust, love, and loss.

The above is simply a preface to another lazy list post:

Some of The Freaky Weasels Favorite Lyrics

Number 1. …and she makes me want to be a homosexual… This lyric from a Bowling for Soup song never fails to crack me up. I love Bowling for Soup. They are the least pretentious of any band I’ve ever listened to. They write the songs I would write if I could write music. If I could summon up the courage to be gay for a band, it’d be them.

Number 2. …I love you in the same way there’s a chapel in a hospital… Fall Out Boy. The first time I heard this I laughed out loud. It’s possibly the most perfectly crafted lyric I’ve ever heard. Again as a shallow, selfish individual it speaks to me.

Number 3. …I never looked inside myself, cuz on the outside, I looked good… From the Broadway Musical Hairspray. Just plain funny in it’s honesty. Probably the reason I dig BFS and KISS so much. There is no lying. No crafty subterfuge. Just plain truth.

Number 4. …and I’m wondering what you’re dreaming, wondering if it’s me your seeing… This, obviously is from Aerosmith’s Armageddon song. This lyric isn’t so great, except my daughter was born the summer this was on the radio every 10 minutes. Being the anal worrisome type, I dragged my daughter’s crib every evening into my tiny bedroom (the Mrs. and I were on a budget) and I went to sleep with my arm hanging off the side of the bed so I could feel the rise and fall of her chest with my hand. My wife found this ridiculous, but I think most first time dads will get where I’m coming from. Why didn’t I select …I could stay awake just to hear you breathing…? Don’t be a dick. I had to sleep, asshole. However when babies laugh in their sleep, it’s funny as hell. And leads to a great deal of speculation as to why. As least in households not inhabited by morons.

Number 5. …All you need is love is a lie… A lot of folks hate John Mayer, but then again a heckuva lot more like him. Evidenced by the many sales, and many beautiful women he’s tapping as a result of his shmaltsy tunes. This line brings a lot of truth though. It’s so easy to date and have sex but long term relationships, while often great, have intermittent stretches when it feels like a job. I’m depressing myself. I was gonna stop with 5, but it’s my list. I’m going to go six to cheer myself up.

Number 6. …Don’t stop me now, I’m havin’ such a good time, I’m havin’ a ball… Don’t Stop Me Now would definitely get my vote for gayest song ever written. I think the director of Shaun of the Dead may have felt the same way as I believe this is the song playing on the juke box when the zombies break into the bar. On the other hand it creates in my very core a feeling of contentment and happiness. If you’re a man and you think liking this song would make you queer, I want to stop and remind you that it’s the cock in your mouth that makes you gay, not the content on your iPod.

I’m tired of typing now. If you have any favorites you’d like to share…good for you.

Modern Vampires are Pretty Much P*****s

      As far back as I can remember vampires have been very popular. The original Dracula (I’ve never read it, but saw the movie in ‘92) was a seductive fellow, as all vampires seem to be, but he was also a bad ass. He had minions, deviousness, and a plan.

    Almose every vampire in the “modern generation” seems to be half supernatural creature and half emo pussy boy. In Interview with a Vampire Ann Rice introduced a number of vampires. None of them macho…in fact much like her Sleeping Beauty characters, her vampires were pretty gay.

    The Twilight vampires are wusses who sit around and talk a lot about how sweet it is to be a vampire. I like the books, but I’ve seen Care Bear comics with more violence. (Remember when Funshine Bear kept using his fancy sun powers to burn the ants? Silly old bear.)

    The Buffyverse vampires, were never menacing, possibly due to the network standards on the WB. Angel was a whiner. Spike was completely emasculated once Buffy quit banging him. Even before that he whined over being handicapable, then over losing his dame. The S in Spike must’ve stood for sissy.

    I don’t know how to explain the True Blood brood, but kick ass isn’t quite right. Sure they’re sexy. All of the vampires above are sexy. Sexy goes hand in hand with the undead. I’ll admit, in 1 of the 3 episodes I’ve seen, the blond sheriff vampire beat a guy to death with his own arm. That was cool. Then two weeks later he’s flashing back to his sire and I sense a plot line of pissing and moaning on the horizon.

    All is not lost though. Not all modern vampires are neutered. semi-preternatural beasts. The 30 Days of Night vampires are fairly vicious and not terribly introspective. This is how it should be.

    The most evil vamps I’ve read about lately are the 13 Bullets breed. These, as described in the text, look similar to the 30 Days vamps but crank up the evil. When they feed…they feed viciously. It is carnage, it is a spree, and they are nigh unstoppable. However, when the occasion comes they need something other than blood…they will rip off your balls (or someone elses) and shove them in your eye sockets. They are what vampires should be. Evil.

    The CW has some new 90210 type vampire show coming up next season. I fear this series will continue to push vampires into the realm of tween girl plaything. I will not sit idly by and witness this travesty. I will use my energy instead to ride the current zombie fad of death and destruction the way God intended.

Keep Your Friends Close

A number of friends and I are in the same hotel.

I like to fuck around with my friends, so after seeing Drag Me to Hell tonight (ok movie, laughs, scares without gore, very telegraphed ending) I stopped by Target and picked up a package of the largest tighty whiteys they sold.

I decorated the drawers with a Hershey bar and some lemon-lime Gatorade.

I wrote a friend’s name on the waistband, and placed said drawers in the communal laundry area. I ensured that both the Hershey stripe and the name were prominently displayed.

So glad I have these friends o’mine.

She Leaves the House Like That

While in DC, I took a tour of Washington’s grist mill. Turns out making hooch was one of the many past times of the father of our country…along with lying to the French.

Rock on General.

Anyhoo, during the tour, I had a small question, possibly ‘did Washington sell growlers?’, but I forget. I approached one of the mill personnel in period dress (not being a history buff, I assume this is the period after the revolution). She wore a plain dress down to her feet and a frilly bonnet. It was white, not blue.

I asked my question.

“I don’t work here, Sir.” The twenty-ish woman replied. Her pale cheeks flushed a bit.

With no clever phrases springing to mind, I tipped my hat (I was hatless) and walked away silently.

Why the hell would some crazy Amish/Mennonite type girl be coming to a distillery anyway?

Those crazy Amish.

Bacon, A Haiku

Crispy strips of flesh
Perfection in form of swine
I miss you so much

Weaselnomics

    I was very excited to learn that Michael Jackson is performing again, and apparently so were a lot of other people. I think as a society, we can take this as a positive sign. Our public shunning of this great entertainer is over, and he can once again sit at his throne, and enjoy the fruits of his position. I’ve never read the enormously popular Freakonomics , but I’ve gotten the gist from a number of devotees. It sounds like a bunch of correlation studies, based on data other than outright falsehoods.
    

    While skimming the news today, I also learned that the population of homeless children may be greater than previously thought. The linked article mentions Katrina (the hurricane, not the stupid girl who spilled milk on me in 4th grade…idiot) as a likely cause.

    

    However, allow me to present a differing theory. Micheal Jackson moved to Bahrain in about 2005. In the interim it would seem the number of children, without homes, has increased. Clearly the King of Pop really was the thin black white pale line protecting our nation’s youth from abject poverty. His invitations to children, and financial contributions to their families kept the economy afloat.

    

    Sure, if you sleep over at Michael’s, you may experience some…unpleasantness, but you get a roof and a bed. You also get to ride a fuckin’ zebra or giraffe. A chimpanzee makes you chocolate chip waffles for breakfast. The man had his own damn theme park and you could’ve ridden as much as you wanted, provided you were willing to spend a few awkward minutes, that you never have to admit to anyone else, with Mr. Jackson.

    

    Our short sighted society told Michael we didn’t want him playing with our children. At night. In bed.

    

    We were fools. 

    

    Now his majesty punishes our youth.

Ninja Movies are for Douches

    As far back as junior high I remember fanboys jizzing themselves after every crapfest of a ninja movie came out. They’d buy throwing stars and nunchuks, enroll at David Deaton, preparing themselves for the life of the ninja.

    

    I never got the thrill.

    

    Sure, I like general badassery as much as the next guy. But come on, even at 12, I was like, seriously? Even if I don’t roll my eyes at the magical sneaking prowess of the ninja, what with the amazing ability they have to climb sheer walls a’la Peter Parker style…I can’t get over the fighting.

    

    A. Why is it in every damn movie there is a ‘bad’ ninja that the ‘good’ ninja has to fight. Usually, the bad ninja has an army of bad ninjas who are in fact, bad ninjas. These bad ninjas all suck balls, because the good ninja plows through them, with darts, and arrows, and a host of weaponry obsolete for 500 years. Leading me into point B.

    

    B. If ninjas are so damn smart and innovative, how come they haven’t adopted the gun? If a ninja came at me with a sword I’d shoot him. If I recognized that sissy ninja costume with the footed pajamas and the slit between the big toe and the other, lesser toes…I’d pop a cap right in his scrotum, man-law be damned.

    

    C. They never show hooters. With all the fighting, ninja movies never seem to have nude women. A theme common in all karate movies, but especially ninja titles. Ninjas it seems are gay or chaste. Probably mostly gay, as in all the flashback scenes it’s a bunch of dudes hanging together on some remote mountain top in China. That’s probably how the ninjas learn stealth. Sneaking from one erotic ninja on ninja rendezvous to the other.

        

    Ninjas in general are sneaky little douches. I hate them.