Archive for August, 2011

Part of an ongoing Facebook series…

August 25, 2011

Me: Oh, and guess who else gets kicked off the radio in my kingdom? Journey. Its replacement? Queensryche. And not just the stuff off Mindcrime & Empire either. (This status brought to you by “Open Arms.” *shudder*)

Sorry, V. But T had nothing to do with it, I swear! (V and T are friends of mine back in East Texas. V is a huge Journey fan. He liked to torment me with it. — ed.)

T: HAHAHAHAHAHA!

Me: It’s a frakking EVIL little earworm, dude, I swear!

Sabra: My ex LOVED that song…

Me: Yeesh. Somehow I am not surprised, considering the show tunes, but still…Ew.

K, a high school friend of mine: As long as you ban tunes from the latest Queensryche album, that’ll work.

Mom: Now Erik,,, “Send Her My Love”. That is a good one….

Me: LOL K. I’ve heard that one’s a real trainwreck! I’d probably scrap everything after Empire, save for a couple of tunes from Promised Land.

And “Send Her My Love” is a slightly less evil earworm, granted…

Ambulance Driver: When the lights go down, in the citaayyyy,

And the sun shines on the baaaaayyaaayyyy,
Whoa I wanna be theeeeeeere, in my citaaaayyyy…

[this earworm brought to you by your friendly neighborhood Ambulance Driver]

And don’t knock Open Arms, dude. Do you realize how many times I got *laid* to Open Arms? It ranks right on up there with “More Than Words” by Extreme for 80’s Girl Chastity Kryptonite.

Me: LMAO. That whole sensitive-guy-listening-to-sensitive-music thing never worked for me, AD. Do you know what I was jamming to when Sabra came along? Metallica, Megadeth, Queensryche and Iron Maiden. Pretty much the 1980s’ polar opposite of Journey. 😉 Steve Perry and the boys would have just run her off, even if she wasn’t into the heavy metal like I was. LOLOL

Ambulance Driver: LOL, in the 80’s, I was wearing Polo shirts in a bewildering array of pastel colors, shaker knit sweaters tied over my shoulders, Levi’s suspender jeans (with suspenders artfully drooping about my waist), and Sperry Topsiders with no socks.

So yeah, the sensitive guy angle worked for me.

And my favorite music in the 1980’s? Hall and Oates.

But I could convincingly play metal head if I had to back then. Provided, of course, it had a good chance of getting me laid. 😉

Sabra: Erik, your idea of sensitive music was “Carrying Your Love With Me”…

Theredneckengineer: This status is so full of win it’s in danger of overloading and shutting down the Internet.

I won’t blow my own horn by saying that, but it was fun. 😉

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Just a question re: Hurricane Irene…

August 24, 2011

…if Mother Gaia doesn’t want Rick Perry elected president,as was suggested by one of Sabra’s Facebook friends, then why is she sending it up the East Coast? Washington, New York, Boston? Very few people who live there are going to vote for Rick Perry, or any Republican for that matter, in 2012.

How prophetic.

August 23, 2011

Commenter AeroDillo, here:

I’ll allow that a great deal of the music industry (and consumers thereof) has a shamefully short memory. And, as we’ve seen lately, an ever-falling IQ. Accompanying this, sadly, is an increasing degree of belligerence; it’s no longer good enough to proclaim your dirt road credentials – now you have to suffer the bellowings of tone-deaf retards everywhere claiming that they’re country and THAT MAKES THEM BETTER THAN YOU.

Apropos of that, I ran across this on Engine 145 earlier today:

Admit it, guys: there are times when we men are racked with indecision, hesitation and doubt. We may even stay up at night, pondering the ultimate question: Are we manly enough? Are we masculine enough to, say, be a character in a Justin Moore song? Fear not, because Moore, a man among men, has provided a list of things that men do and do not do. Follow along with “Bait a Hook” to learn how we’re supposed to act.

I will admit I didn’t particularly agree with the reviewer’s comments on driving a Prius, though. As I noted in comments, there are legitimate reasons for eschewing Priuses and their ilk — not the least of which is that it’s ill-suited for pretty much anything beyond short hauls of a small family and a little bit of their stuff. No doubt Justin Moore probably didn’t stop to think about that when he found this song to record, just that the car is supposedly not manly according to certain societal standards. And that’s why this song sucks — it provokes a backlash among those who might actually agree with what many people say about the usefulness of cars like the Prius. Such also makes them less receptive to hearing that  it is possible to get 20-plus miles per gallon from a diesel-powered Dodge 2500 or Ford F-250. The Prius might work for the guy’s city lifestyle, and hey, if it does, more power to him. And does a real man actually give a damn about someone not thinking he’s a real man just because of what he drives?

And as for the drink thing — is Justin Moore really so insecure about his sexuality that he’s going to say that a real man doesn’t drink something with an umbrella in the glass? I figured a real man would drink whatever the hell he wanted. Unlike the issue with the Prius and the truck, though,I actually have personal experience of sorts with this. Back in the early 2000s when I was spending every weekend I could manage down at Crystal Beach, I was drinking a lot of Smirnoff Ice and Mike’s Hard Lemonade. I mentioned this to a guy I worked with (coincidentally, this was the same guy who recommended I buy Master of Puppets), and he said something to the effect of, “Aw, man, you drink that pussy beer?” Other friends of mine alternately called them “bitch beers” and “bitch drinks,” and I never quite understood why. Those flavored drinks will get you just as drunk as beer will — probably even faster, considering they taste like, say, Kool-Aid.

And the same goes for food. A real man is going to eat whatever the hell he likes to eat without regard to what anyone thinks. Do I eat sushi? You bet your ass I do. When it’s made right, it’s absolutely divine. It might not be a good medium-rare prime rib, but it damn sure stands on its own merits.

You might be noticing a common thread here — a real man does what he wants and doesn’t consult some bullshit list of criteria. Such is probably a bit too, shall we say, nuanced for the likes of Justin Moore to grasp.

Not-so-random Tuesday musings…

August 23, 2011

…brought to you by a sight from a couple of days ago…

Attention anonymous big-box store patron: The fact that you let your middle school-age kid wear a t-shirt that says “If You Ain’t A Cowboys Fan, You Ain’t Shit” speaks volumes about you as a parent, and none of it is good, on any level.

For one thing, there’s the whole time-and-place-for-everything issue. There’s a place for that sort of sentiment, and it’s at a friend’s house drinking beer and watching the game, not out in public among those of us with more dignity. You know what your actions say about you? They say you’re one of those parents, the parent who wants to be your kid’s friend instead of, you know, her parent.

And of course there’s the whole tribal mentality fostered by such. Tribal mentalities aren’t altogether bad, just for an example, I think it’s good to be proud of where you’re from, and to defend your homeland when people make unwarranted slurs about it. But something so ephemeral as a sports team? A sports team that isn’t even in your hometown? I suppose the fact that the Cowboys hold training camp here at the Alamodome might have a good bit to do with that, but what would you and your ilk do if they picked up and moved the camp to California? Issue death threats against Jerry Jones, as Cleveland Browns fans did against Art Modell when he moved the old Browns to Baltimore? I suppose it could be worse here — they could be shooting people and beating them to death as has been done elsewhere — but that sort of thing is ultimately what that mentality could lead to, and it just seems so, so stupid.

Hey, good thing Naim Muhammad didn’t use a gun!

August 23, 2011

Someone could have gotten hurt!

A Dallas man accused of drowning his two young sons Monday after abducting them while they were walking to school with their mother was being held on capital murder charges, authorities said.

Naim Muhammad, 32, was held on $2 million bond Monday evening in Dallas County Jail on two counts of capital murder. Online jail records didn’t indicate if he has an attorney.

But wait! There’s more!

In September 2009, he pleaded guilty to aggravated assault with a deadly weapon, a second degree felony, and received five years’ probation. According to court records, the charge stemmed from a complaint from his sister that he had struck her in the head with a hammer.

Smacked his sister in the head with a hammer and he got probation for that? Seriously? And if you go back up in the story you’ll see that Mr. Muhammad had already threatened his wife, telling her he was going to kill her and the children. Yet he was walking free. Why? And why do anti-gunners not have a problem with this?

Overheard in front…

August 22, 2011

…of the Tyson chicken processing facility in Seguin:
“Hey, I could work at the chicken plant,” as I channel Hank Hill. “I sell chicken and chicken accessories…”
Sabra: “HAHAHA! Boy, you ain’t right…”
Me: “I had to, I just had to!”

In other news, from what we saw of Seguin, it looks like a nice little town, right out of the Norman Rockwell oeuvre, especially the downtown area…and yeah, I was actually being serious there!

Stay tuned…

August 22, 2011

More blog for you later today. For now, though, it’s off to take the kids to the first day of school (Esther’s in kindergarten, whee!) and off to Seguin to…see a man about a dog, yeah, that’s it. 😉

Oh, look, more out-of-context rambling about bullets!

August 21, 2011

From someone who should know better, natch:

Prosecutors in the capital murder trial of a man accused of shooting his estranged wife, their two teenage daughters and the wife’s grandmother in northeast Kansas have shown jurors grisly photos of the victims after a coroner described their shootings as “execution-style,” done with ammunition effective at causing damage.

But as far as I can tell from reading that story, the forensic pathologist never said anything about what the bullets were designed to do, or what they were going to do no matter what given the weight and muzzle velocity of the .223 cartridge. Am I wrong, or are those specs things you just can’t talk your way around to give an honest reason as to why the bullets do what they do? Don’t get me wrong — if James Kraig Kahler did what he’s accused of, he deserves one of those bullets to the back of the head and a shallow grave. But what do you want to bet at least one of those jurors is going to walk out of that courtroom thinking an AR-15 is some sort of magic death ray when other calibers can do just as much damage to internal organs?

To Jon Huntsman, I would just like to say…

August 21, 2011

…”Sit down and shut up, you whiny little bitch. You’re part of the problem.”

Presidential candidate Jon Huntsman is pounding away at rival Rick Perry‘s skepticism of manmade global warming and criticism of the nation’s central banker, saying those stands hurt the GOP and make the Texas governor come off as a not-so-serious national figure….

Trying to put Perry’s broadside against Bernanke in context, Huntsman said “people are crying out for us to get back to some level of sensibility and this just kind of perpetuates the name-calling and the finger-pointing and the blame game where we want solutions.”

Translation: “That rat bastard Rick Perry has stolen what little thunder I might have had. Who does he think he is? I’m a go-along-to-get-along member of the gorramed Washington Establishment, people! I’m reasonable! Listen to me! Who gives a good gorram if I’m one of the weasels who got us to where we are? Comity and bipartisanship are where it’s at, yo, just ask John McCain!”

What I’d like to say to a certain person…

August 20, 2011

…as my stomach still writhes…

“I know you don’t really give a damn about me or Sabra. Which doesn’t matter, honestly, because you’re just a speck in my universe anyway, the overstuffed sack of FAIL that appears on the doorstep every weekend to take the kids to visit for a few hours. But at least give enough of a shit about your kids to keep your plague-ridden girlfriend away from them when she’s sick. Two of them were sick last week, and in addition to me, they passed it on to the baby, you asshole. And now that I think about it, giving a shit about the kids could very well include you not giving them shit they could pass on to me that could make me sick enough to cut hours from my work schedule that I could barely fucking afford. Considering I play such a major role in keeping a roof over their head it’s the least you could do.

“Oh, and while I’m at it, take some of that money you spend on the aforementioned plague-ridden girlfriend and fucking feed those kids more than Ramen noodles on Sundays, you git.”