Nailed It

Is this the equivalent of a 6-year-old being seriously injured in a car accident, comatose, waking up, and out of nowhere has gained the ability to play the Waldstein sonata opus 53? Emma K. nothing other than this sheet of paper has convinced me you've completed the path to enlightenment because this is exactly what Love is; look out, world!

LOL

Saturday now continues...

While shooting a lot of these plane videos, I kept seeing all these farkatke (facacta) motorcycles just zippin' around the runway, revving passed planes sort of parked in rows, so each one of these paved rows, these stupid motorcyclists because what's an airshow without motorcycles, fuckin' could care less for that shit, here they are buzzin' around all over, and there's people stupid enough to take pictures of these morons, encouraging them to keep it up, keep twisting on that handle bar revving that engine. I don't understand how these non-permitted vehicles were speeding down the runway some of these airplanes were using to gain speed in order to lift-off.
This will tie-in to just the shittiest part of this whole Saturday, give it time. On to more videos!

                                                                                                                   

 

   We start heading to the hangar these planes are placed in front of, and inside the hangar were some WWII artifacts, Korean War artifacts, guns, uniforms, picture displays, all having to do with service men and women from our side and our enemies. They had a Plinko board set up, and along the bottom were different boxes, some labeled 'Toys' others 'Free shirt' 'Free drink' 'You Lose' 'Candy'

  I went ahead and played Plinko, rested the chip against the back of the board and then let it topple on down the spokes nailed into the board and the chip eventually fell in a 'Toy' box, and I got to pick from a glider, Styrofoam, a plastic airman with a parachute that I could let parachute down into the Royal Gorge,  and some other crap; I know there were three toy choices. My brother took his turn before me and got a package of sweet tarts. When I'm done, and I've got my glider, the attendant to the Plinko board had moved a few of the boxes around so there was a chance the chip would not land in the same space, and if it did, there is a different box in its place, better chance of winning something different. I wasn't even paying attention to the attendant and what box she placed in the space my Plinko chip had fallen. 

  My mom takes her turn, the chip pings off of the spokes, bouncing its way downward, and lands in a box labeled 'Free Introductory Flight' which I hadn't listed above because I had no idea this box existed. I would've actually tried to land in that box had I known, instead I'm standing there about to drop my Plinko chip thinking, "Great, I'll get the stupid toy. What the hell do I need some easily breakable Styrofoam glider? I'll slide it in my pocket and forget it about it, and when I get home it'll be mashed or bent, essentially fucked!"

  The introductory flight was basically, you go up with an instructor in some Skyhawk aircraft and take a flight lesson, so yes, my mom was able to operate the plane and steer, downside being, since it's a small aircraft, the pilot and you are up front and he's instructing you on how to keep this thing in the air, and maybe room for 2 small individuals in the back. There's nothing small about my brother, my father, and I, so pretty much my mom is up front and 1 person in the back, although you could have up to 2 others with you if they could fit. My dad's saying, "Owen, why don't you go up with her and take some pictures," whereas my brother and I are going, "No, Phil, you're goin up there!"

Don't worry, they're not dead. That happened immediately after they took off.... fucker went down instead of up. I jest.

   There's my mom, flyin' around. Fuckin Blogger keeps restricting my uploads, so some of these videos didn't make it up. 

  While they were up in the sky, my brother and I just kinda stood around. We had taken pictures of everything else, there were a few jets that took off. Two of those videos I could never get to work on here, and Owen has a heaping load of pics and vids (who cares) 

  I see this Mustang that I assume the operator was charging some good moolah to take you up in, there's kind of an open space and then a registration-type desk off to one side and I've seen this Mustang creep into that open space to park, then whoever is going up with the pilot, they can climb aboard the plane, and then it drives off towards the runway making its way to the end of the runway in order to turn around, and then haul ass in order to fly. This space is restricted space once the plane is coming to load a passenger; I knew this, and avoided that area. I'm standing where everyone else is standing alongside the runway looking to see what contraption was coming next down the runway, alright.

  I start shooting some video of my mom's flight zooming overhead us, and this guy all dolled up like an airman in a jumper/work suit is coming towards the group and telling everyone to move away and out of the space, like we weren't back far enough. All of a sudden, I'm in a bad situation, the Mustang is coming up the runway and I keep hearing this guy and now more voices telling me to back up. I shut off my camera, and look toward these people, and they're yelling at me, "You need to back up!"

"SIR! Back UP!"

  I see the Mustang to my left, these people shouting at this point, "Move out of the way! Back UP!" And I'm hustling back I'm walking towards the other people standing who aren't being yelled at, apparently not the direction these fuckers wanted me to walk. So instead of backing, I just run towards the people telling me to back up, who are standing by this registration desk, and this guy behind the desk is looking towards me but not at me and saying, "Jesus, back UP! Good...God...." And this woman who had been yelling with the flight-crew guy in the jumper, now she's shaking her head like, are you serious? What part of BACK UP is not getting through to you. About that time while I was walking over to them, and then stopping to stand right beside them, this Mustang swings around and passes right in front of us to stop in that designated space I was telling you all about. And I can hear the guy saying, "These people don't ever listen. We need you out of this space." Then the lady kinda leans in to me, and says, "You need to back up when people are telling you to back up." I'm like, "I was." "No you weren't. See him," and she points to the Mustang and the pilot hopping from the cockpit to the ground to be introduced to his next passenger, "He doesn't see you. When he was turning in, he could see you getting too close to the plane. Then when he's facing us, he can't see you at all." It's one of those talks grown-ups give little kids visiting a farm and someones not paying attention while around a moving farming implement. "You need to back up!" I'm just thinking, pretty vague, your back-up. Back up where? Point to where I need to be, don't just yell back up! It was a tad humiliating, and really, 9 times out of 10, something like that will happen to me, and it's really a downer. Makes me feel like a screw up, makes me look like a goof because I'm not following their simple instructions I guess; they said back up, I was moving back -- what else is there? This is partly why I'm so anti-social and I never want to get out and do anything. Somewhere down the line I'm gonna screw up, and look like an idiot, and I'm not an idiot, and hate being forced in to these situations because I don't want to look idiotic, I don't wanna be embarrassed, and especially didn't like it that this woman was talking to me like I was 7. 

  So when this lady said, "You need to listen to people when they are telling you to back up," I just stopped looking at the Mustang and the pilot and his passenger, just blinked for a second, turned to this woman, and I told her to, "Fuck off." I said it loud enough for her to hear me, but not like a shout. "Fuck off." I caught this look she gave me. Her mouth was kind of open. She narrowed her eyes. I just looked down at my view-screen on the back of my camera, and deleted the video of the Mustang right before I was being yelled at. Then I looked back at her, gave her a wink, and walked off. Fuck off. Don't tell me to listen and be attentive, I was backing up. I heard you all. You know, it's people like me who get in to trouble; to you I'm just not paying attention and the trouble is headed my way. It's people like them who cause accidents, either by trying to help you avoid catastrophe, in this case the help they were throwing my way was BACK UP! Had I gone in the wrong direction and the plane was right there, that's how the "accident" would have occurred in my logic. And really, think of what could've happened and how unlikely it is it would've happened, would never have happened. What? I stumble right into the propeller of the plane, and my body is sucked into the engine and it's just a red mist and spray of my blood and bits of bone, heart, lung, skull and brain, my intestines strung all over the tarmac, just a whole fucking mess, somewhere a guy was filming that plane rolling in, and by sheer coincidence took video of my gruesome death. Now I'm a star on YouTube, you know, INSANE airshow accident that killed this young man. Nope, that's all imaginative. I could've lazily strolled out of the way of the plane, he wasn't speeding along. He waited for the other people to clear out. 

  And then to tell me to BACK UP; hey lard-ass, who happens to also be deaf in one ear, get the FUCK BACK! -- not to say a damn thing to these assholes driving in that space, other spaces along the runway, ON the runway; they're motorcyclists which I had no clue entitled you to drive that son of a bitch wherever you'd like. 

  It's -- like I stated before -- people who get in to bad situations, if they are dead by the end of it, it was their fault. But it's also the people trying to help them out, yelling things like BACK UP! GET OUTTA THE WAY! Those people, being as vague as they were, more than likely they aren't helping. In this incident, how they were instructing me did nothing. I moved out of the way despite them yelling at me, would've had they kept their mouths shut. Takes away from the awesomeness that is an airshow. Deepens my need to stay away from such events lest I somehow embarrass myself again. More-so turns me off from being around people.

  I told my mom I told the airshow attendant-lady to fuck off. She thinks it was wrong because they could've escorted me from the airshow. I told her that would've just had me telling more people to fuck off and to suck my dick. That was the airshow.

Loaded Saturday

  Saturday I woke up fairly early for a Saturday to go to the Great Bend AirFest in Great Bend, KansAss. It was a delight, more so because I used my now 3-month old digital camera for pictures and video. Check out this Sasquatch-crotch of an awesome video!

That's just a taste.

  I was hangin with the fam in Lyons, KS at some art fair-mabobber, looking at wire earrings and kittens, and having Episcopal, Presbyterian, and Methodist churchgoers flinging pamphlets in my hands for pancake breakfasts and car shows. Also, there was a car show in Lyons. Mmmmm, the smell of grilled burgers!

  The art fair consisted of stands set up around the park or square where the Rice County Courthouse rests. We walked around the park, got hounded by solicitors, saw some pretty exquisite hand-made goods, and yes, there was an animal shelter collecting signatures for God-knows-what, and they happened to bring some animals from the shelter with them to help pull you in.

  After walking the square, we hopped in the truck to get us something to eat. Nothing seemed to satisfy us in Lyons, so we drove to Great Bend our next destination for lunch. There, we spotted a Pizza Hut. It was 20 minutes after 12.
  My dad was craving pizza buffet. I glanced at the buffet, and saw the pizza was a tad leathery, meaning it had sat out and gotten a tan from the heat lamps. Out of defiance probably in my dad's eyes, I stated I wasn't touching anything on that buffet until they at least put out 2 fresh pizzas. The reason why I say defiance is my dad just took that statement as another moment my stubbornness was aggravating him, so I continued to voice my observations of this buffet. The pizza was shit! That whole buffet was bullshit! Like, all these god damned beasts had shoveled pasta on their plates and left that quivering corner of noodles to harden, and the sauces to go with the pasta were collecting grease deposits on the surface, which could've been stirred-in, and while we're on subjects of detest, I also am not going to allow you to inject me with the plague, no less fill my stomach with this horse shit. The dessert pizza was a horror-show, it by far had lasted the longest in the trenches. I told my family they aren't keeping the buffet stocked, and we're not paying for 4 buffets and drinks and settling on this bone-yard of a buffet. So yeah, I was objecting this whole notion we were paying for that buffet.
  My mom happened to suggest we order from the menu. My dad was cool with that. We ordered our 9 dollars in carbonated beverages, and ordered a stuffed crust pizza. Whereas, I figured due to the exemplary service bestowed on the buffet, we'd be sipping our soda, drinking our lunch while we waited and waited for our pizza to arrive burnt. In fact, our waitress came carrying it in after we had waited twenty minutes. And in this time my family and I had observed a hamburger pepperoni pizza and a cheese pizza replenish the buffet, and once those landed, the vultures swooped in, and I wasn't dealing with that, I foresaw this occurring, and funk that jive, we're ordering. When the pizza came, it was great, and looked ten times better than what was on the buffet. Also they had run out of lettuce on the salad bar.
  After my dad opted out of tipping our waitress, we were no longer welcome, so we hightailed it out of there, and bumbled along US 56 towards Great Bend. Here's what we saw at the hangar, Great Bend airfield: 

Look at that line! No thank you.

  These planes were all sort of in the same area of one another, so I was swiveling around, snapping shots.

  Six and a half Swastikas, from Nazi-Richard Roeper, for the movie, "Midnight in Paris".









How do you get half a Swastika? Did the pilot graze the German plane, and it sputtered toward land, but he never saw an explosion, so one half Swastika for scrapping the plane, but not the German pilot who might've survived the crash? I'm just rambling off a possible scenario, I have no clue why the pilot of this war-bird didn't get the full credit on his 7th-kill.

  Snoopy would've ejected from his P-51, letting it careen in to an enemy-fighter, 6th-kill, parachuting down to the wreckage of the Nazi-pilot. He would've climbed on-board the left wing of the fighter, opened her cockpit, and slit the throat of the groggy pilot fighting unconsciousness to be rewarded the full 7th kill. Beagles play for keeps!

"Wait, what was that Sheila?"

"I said Republican-Presidential nominee Mitt Romney used bronzer on his face and top part of his arms to darken his complexion probably a day or so before he spoke in front of a group of potential Hispanic voters."


"When you say Mitt Romney do you mean George Hamilton; I be's confused!"



See what I did there? The guy in the neon green is talking, his conversation is in the neon green letters. The lady between the two guys is in a light grey with her conversation. The man in the glasses and charcoal shirt, his conversation happens to be in a darker grey than the woman's. The man in the glasses looks discomposed.

Now to hear some planes!

Old son of a bitch.

Stay tuned, folks, there's more to come.

I Think, Therefore I Am...Most Likely Behind the times

Starting a post with 'I think' did not suit me, so here goes the many things I've had on my mind, strictly opinions. People of different generations have similar and differing opinions, we can all agree on that, however, I've noticed people of the Great Depression-era and early-Baby Boomers can most heatedly agree that the people at the forefront, in control of this country are going to hell in a hand-basket.

It doesn't look right when huge insurance corporations or banks get bailed out for basically lending too much, but the real concern is why were they prompted to loan so much money to people who couldn't pay it back?

Then it becomes apparent that a lot of homeowners were refusing to pay their mortgage payments because it was either pay for the things that would keep them alive; food, water, electricity, or the way the media spun it, they were jacking up loads of credit card debt and that contributed to the credit crisis -- the alternative being, pay for gasoline which would fuel their cars so they could continue to work or transport goods such as food, water, other necessities from the store where they purchased the merchandise back to their homes.

Since gas prices were reaching beyond five dollars a gallon in some areas, also much consideration to where they were working/how much of that gas was used in order to get around and what was consumed daily, here's the decision some of those people faced -- quit their jobs which supplied their income because gas prices were outrageous, or quit paying for a house, essentially live out of their vehicle. That does not compute.

Groups soon turned up, first in the financial district of New York, to protest greed and economic inequality between the wealthiest 1%, and the rest of the population, and to undue the stranglehold corporations had on our government, most notably from the finance sector. These types of groups wondered how one area of people were able to skim off the top millions, almost billions over several years, yet other financiers, other people were laid off or simply making barely scraps, how any of that rationale was justifiable. A people's general assembly consisting of individuals who opposed budget cuts began amassing around the world to voice frustrations such as, but not limited to why a small conglomerate of the population would knowingly steal and embezzle a shit ton of money and seemingly get away with it, without imposing jail-time, or, say they were prosecuted, how a monetary fine and essentially a slap on the wrist was enough of a punishment for such a crime. Mostly, those embezzlers risked house arrest or miniscule jail-time for their high-crime, not the verdicts these criminals deserved. And that's where all of this is trickling down to -- these protests were in favor of stopping crooks from cheating the system. Degenerates. Assholes. Crooks; a bunch of low-life hoods who had found a way to milk money into private accounts so they could retire fat and loaded, then move out of the country with the money.

That's what America has become, says the GD-era early-Baby Boomers who's parents were the backbone of an emerging superpower, and themselves hardworking loyalists of their beloved country, no longer is it the norm to work for what you have, but to take it by any means. To be a crook.

There's loads of them in office; I suppose some handling our money, our retirement, our future, and sure, it's not right for me to hold everyone in those positions accountable because they're not all villains in the whole scheme of things, but it's slowly becoming a reality that what I've worked for, and others, won't be there when I need it, or more so, someone will come along and want to change how that system works, and that will surely mean "sacrifices" to where, okay, these people shit all over things, and it's my generation who will pay for the clean-up. Generally that's what you do with thieves. What should be done with thieves? Good ol fashion hangin' -- some parts of the world chop their fucking hands off -- but I'd say hangings would suffice.

Now I'm being irrational, we can't just hang a person. Well, why the fuck not? We're willing to despise one another individually or pull the wool over on one another for our own gain, outright lie and hold grudges; while you're on to something, critique even the minuteness displays of emotion, and even how well a person does a certain thing to it's cliched expectations, and mounting expectations they are for you to live up to -- does it feel like I'm going on-and-on about this? Yep, I see people as mistrusting and easily suede to present animosity towards outsiders.

We couldn't accept the limitations that humans have, like promoting organized slave-labor with full benefits, sick-time, dental, and vacation days, and still not be satisfied by its production, so forget humans, let's go with computer-programmed androids which we duh! - don't pay. Then, taking that unreal non-existent bag of bills to shady shady investors from the Mediterranean, I guess? Not having our investments pan out, so oh look, an empty life raft -- wait, one survived that wreckage, a perfectly good life raft, and out here away from the missing or drowned life rafts, oh, it does have a skeleton in it, let's hope it's not the lost skeleton of Cadavra cave.. and then realizing, fuck what we just did to the cruise-liner, we needs to take another cruise, only let us all take more money.

Inexperienced politicians/professional criminals who aren't educated beyond slapping hands and conversing, rambling, who are well spoken for, but otherwise useless, get appointed positions, seemingly don't work out; you hear about these cabinet members coming aboard, beloved, highly motivated, but then some tension rises, and out they go, now tell me, some of these people, what the hell were they doing there in the first place? Guy moves up the ladder, one position after the other, and nothing but great things streaming from that experience, gets to the front office with a perceived ulterior motive, and perhaps working with his or her fellow constituents, has a motive of theirs in mind, using his or her new power to push things through. Working in that environment for so long, you tend to compare it to prison because you might go in as a drug peddler, and graduate a larcenist. It corrupts you. What do we house in that complex on the hill, that prison, but criminals?

Just to show you what potential some of our beloved leaders have that's witnessed during campaigning, how one instance people are praising you, the next you're gutter trash, just look at Pennsylvania Senate candidate Tom Smith. Tom got in to a hot ol bucket of steaming potatoes the other week when he decided, "the hell with sounding like a dumbass like that Representative Todd Akin from Missouri, if we're going to discuss topics I have no business commenting on -- like, how many Mentos is too many Mentos to be shoving in a bottle of Diet Coke, to witness a pop explode -- or rape -- that, you're honestly comfortable with saying a woman has a way of 'shutting down' a pregnancy after or during a committed rape, and can determine and work her body so she has a choice whether to essentially have a baby with a rapist or not, well then, are you ready to hear my crazy-logic!?"

Yeah, you've lived something similar. You asked your daughter, "How come just about every morning I can hear you in the bathroom clearly vomiting in the stool while the shower is running, though you act as though you're coughing or clearing your throat? Is something the matter?"

Daughter: " ... well it couldn't be that I'm pregnant, and still in the morning-sickness phase, but I'm goin with bad egg salad..."

"Now honey, you know we're a red meat and potatoes-family, that eggs have their 'place' but not after 11. You're clearly hiding a little baby bump under that ugly fucking sweater your wearing, that I told you to throw out quicker than an unwanted pregnancy. I'm sorry, pumpkin, I was listening to George Carlin this morning; got me a tad riled up."

And so a daughter's mistake came into light, and a father made a decision to stand by her after she "...chose life, and I commend her for that," he said in an interview. "She knew my views. But, fortunately for me, I didn't have to ... she chose the way I thought. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't rape." But it's like it, right, because they didn't want this, they were left with the consequences of their mistake? Your daughter goes out with a group of her girlfriends for some dinner, some drinking, then it's off to a cluster of bars where she becomes less and less concerned with her actions, meets a guy prowling for a good lay, has sex with him later that night, skip ahead 4 weeks, and sure enough, the consequences of her actions lead to a thin plastic applicator with her urine staining the end giving her a positive readout, now Senate-candidate Smith let's hope, nine months down the line, is a new grandfather. I'll be repeating that story as a rape victim. Drinking and laughing back at the club with her girls, she spots that handsome stranger again, musters up the confidence to stand next to him ordering her next drink, hoping he's been eying her, which he secretly has. Those are my examples. More than likely a chance meeting with a complete stranger back to my house for a fucking isn't accurate, more so Senate-candidate Smith and his daughter's bad egg salad/not bad egg salad, but pregnancy-scare conversation. Yet here is a man connecting a violent, traumatic and scarring experience, along with having and raising a baby, with a confused, scary, somewhat overwhelming, how am I going to possibly be able to convert this little life inside me, into a fully functioning adult, deal with that along with everything else in my life, and not feel like an absolute screw-up, on my own not to mention.

People need to realize that there's always going to be the right to choose, no matter what it may be. Senators need to stop with the, now see here, I don't condone rape. Like, is that already taken as a campaign platform? "Come one, come all, meet this guy, he wants to be your representing-body in the Senate. He loves babies, your babies more importantly, as well as the vanilla Oreos. Yes, let's all make a mental note to stop by McGinty's Pet Emporium on Wabash between the hours of 10 a.m. and 3 p.m., 5 hours this ol' rape lover's gonna be shaking hands and sliding that charcoaled wiener off the grill and in to your bun, handing out bags of popcorn for the kiddies as well. That's right, meet the only Senator who DOES in fact condone and practice what he calls the Art of Rape!"

People, you can't have it one way to avoid hang-ups, like, why am I supporting organizations such as Planned Parenthood who hand out contraceptives, and help pay for abortions (not true), here I don't prescribe to an abortion as a way to hit reset on unwanted pregnancies. Nope, your misinformed. So biologically, a woman can't make her body flush out a baby -- nope, that's misinformation as well. You mean to tell me a lot of the times the people behind a certain movement promoting changes to state and federal laws are also as misinformed? That some people don't necessarily know what they are talking about, but they do know how to talk?

Predicting the Unexpected (Zero Pictures) >>> Elevator Crisis

Claude Giroux is making a case that he is the best player in the world, but is he the most deserving for the Conn Smythe Trophy? -- asks ESPN's website.

Answer: Nope. Because he's a smug, ponce, stringy-haired fuck! It's one thing to exceed expectations, it's another to abandon such aspirations, and not meet a pre-season expectation of being the number one team in the NHL. Must be nice knowing how mediocre your regular season was, only to reserve some firepower in the post-season, and then think that entitles you somehow in being named best hockey player in the world. Just means you weren't willing to lay down a fight against your arch-rivals the Pittsburgh Penguins, who just so happened to be experiencing a late-game foreseeable meltdown of pretty-boy Sidney Crosby. Also, now incorporating him into the line-up after another stint with that pesky concussion he sustained last season, Malkin and Staal were back to being wingmen, or in my book, useless assholes on skates chasing a puck, and imagining more-so-than excelling in shooting said-puck at Philly's goalkeeper. Too preoccupied in fights and hits from Giroux's teammates, which benched Neal and Asham, and handed Bitz, Weber, and Shaw suspensions. Sounds an awful lot like peewee-hockey to me.

Naming Claude Giroux the best player in the world is like saying Ilya Kovalchuk is the best player in the world -- for the sake of naming a player on teams nobody expected would do jack shit in the playoffs. Who had the Devils over the surging Panthers? -- and why that series ended the way it did. If you've kept up with the post-season in the NHL, the Devils tell Florida to back off with a shutout, the next game, the Panthers answer with one of their own. The Devils force Game 7, and it's exhaustion that proves fatal for the Panthers in 2OTs where New Jersey finally buries them for good.
The Penguins were favorites to win the whole fucking cup this year and it didn't happen. You can't come back from 3 down. Eventually a team will show us you can, but not against the ego of the Flyers, and not for a team like the Penguins who had luck in the end of the regular season.

Isn't that just like the way the league is now!? St. Louis is still in, and they were the number one team at the beginning and middle of the season; Vancouver was the same way last year. In that regard, I see them defying expectations or hushing all those LA fans whispering, "It's our year." Kobe Bryant is saying it, only he's referring to the Lakers. You know, every year his team proves they rely too heavily on him, so what's Kobe do? He backs off by taking some time off with an injury, or, like this year, he tells Brown he's leaving the arena to take a dump at his "home-base" and Brown gives him a smile and a high-five, and the Lakers blow the game. The next night, Bryant has an appointment with a doctor in his hotel room for a penal/urethra scrape and a Penicillin shot right in the dorsal artery of his penis, and an uncomfortable conversation which ends in him telling his doctor this didn't happen. Mike Brown is told in a text, "not playing tonight, I've got the sniffles." Lakers rally, and come to the conclusion we can win without him if we'd only play. Both leagues tamper with the law of averages to defy expectations. Chicago and Phoenix play similarly, let's match them up in the first round. The Sharks and Blues almost have matching jerseys, let's see them duke it out, then act surprised when a team without a GM unexpectedly wins, and another team who relies way too much upon an AHL goalie is taken to the woodshed by a team that's been excellent all year.

And who's left -- L.A., Phoenix, Nashville, St. Louis, New York, New Jersey, Washington, and Philadelphia. For all the fucking "Original Six" gear shoved down our throats all year, there's only New York left. Does Canada still play or even care about hockey?

Every playoff game broadcast because it's the Cup, the NHL -- expect the unexpected -- no wait, the NBA clutched on to that already (SEE Memphis scrap and beat the tar out of San Antonio last year in the first round of the NBA Playoffs) and the NFL draft this year also, I believe. Damn'it, dammit, damn it! What could the NHL use as a slogan? The NHL -- you'll watch them for the two weeks before the NBA playoffs start, then go back to ignoring them until someone is hoisting the Stanley Cup. That's better.

This happened a while back, but I once got stuck in an elevator. I was walking through the employee entrance at work, and the alarm was humming and sort of buzzing, making a weird noise, and I sort of recognized it as a similar sound I heard when our backdoor dead-bolt alarm was malfunctioning, and we had a crew come in to replace it. I thought nothing of it, making my way to the elevator to go upstairs. I shouldn't be lazy, and just walk up the stairs to the second floor where I was needing to go, but instead, I pressed a button and had a lift do the work for me. The door slid closed and a funny thing happened. The overhead lights in the adult circulation department started one-by-one fading to black, and once the doors were fully closed, the power went out and I was stuck in the elevator.
What to do? I fumbled in my pocket, but alas, I had left my phone in my car.

I thought maybe I should start yelling, but if this was a momentary time, I didn't want to be the employee who freaked out in the elevator when the power went out for two minutes that one time. I felt panicky, but I considered where I was, and when that feeling was replaced by just how small my surroundings were, I decided to make the space above me seem more vast by sitting cross legged on the floor of the elevator. There, now I wasn't feeling so trapped. It was 10 minutes and I felt the elevator abruptly start descending towards the basement, and I knew not only was I free, but someone in the basement had called for the elevator, right before probably the electricity went out in the building. Didn't expect that to happen when I was walking through the building to get to my department, definitely thought it came from left-field the moment I pressed for the elevator doors to close, and that stinkin' power went out.

Electricity

The new standard in lighting for home and some industry seems to be Energy Star light bulbs/fluorescent tubes; that seem about right? 75% less heat than your run-of-the-mill incandescent bulb, they seem to save money from what I've heard -- that, I imagine is a true statement. They are said to last longer.

Some are swirly, pretzel-curved, spiral tubes emitting less energy, but yet the same, even greater brightness to light a room; others are a collection of smaller LED lights that still conserve and get the job done.

My question from these seemingly pointless statements is, when does it get to the point when electric companies aren't pulling in the same profits for their services they used to and decide, hey, you're not using as much energy, electricity to light your homes, it's about time for a rate hike. The big thing anymore for the auto industry, and most notably because President Obama has asked and campaigned for this, is to make automobiles more fuel economical, as well as pushing for more electric vehicles. All to quell our dependency on gasoline. But doesn't it seem right that the same greedy lusting for oil will spill into a renewed dependency for electricity?

My chair is uncomfortable. Computer, and those desk-chairs from my high school seem to always be ungodly strenuous on my back.

Wind-power, solar energy reserves, dams -- all clean resources of electricity that happen to be our best answers for gathering and storing the needed electrical cells to power our everyday lives. Yuck! Sounds sappy. Sounds a bit too convenient. Sounds like bullshit; of course it's just that easy. You take those recharging stations for instance.

We open on a mall parking structure, reconfigured to house recharge stations for every parking spot in that whole stinkin' complex. The accidental deaths from electric shock continue to rise; wrong -- you go in to the mall, do some shopping for the afternoon, fill up on electricity, you telling me that's free? What, you feed it like a meter? Maybe you have an electricity card only good for charging your energy cell consumption. I don't know, it already begins to sound like more of this, we're expanding the power-grid in urban areas, we have to make up that cost somehow, why not hike up the cost of electricity?

I wrote this blog post late last year and never published it. Just sat here in my iron maiden of a computer chair and read over what little I had of this post over and over again. A black guy came in to work to do who the fuck cares -- A black guy oooooooo, sarcastically -- and him and his friend sat and talked the whole time, subject matter mostly consisting of, "God I miss my girl, she's not in town, I don't know when I'll see her. She's cool. I mean, she fucks good. Sucks my dick." Tell the world! And why couldn't you just say I'm falling in love with my woman-friend? Nope, she's only good for two things; a good fuck every once and awhile, and sucking my smelly cock. They don't engage in sex, it sounds more like they like to play rape. Whenever he feels like it, he sneaks up behind her, force-ably pulls her pants along with her panties down and goes right into full-on intercourse. He's gotta show-off. He can't admit tender feelings for her, just the inappropriate fucking they probably haven't engaged in because she's more than likely some "tramp" he's stalking online through myYearbook.

The stock market will never be fixed. Our need for oil won't be quelled, more like hunger; our human hearts never full. Get over fixing it. Gingrich claims he'll drop the price of oil. So did Barack, and the price did remain pretty low there the first 2-3 years of his term, and now that's back up. Santorum and Romney want to push the abortion issue. We've seen this before in the form of same-sex marriage, trying to get our government to oversee and control a private matter. So you love a guy and you're a guy, so you're a woman in love with a woman, let that be your choice. Abortion is your choice. You start down this fucking path where the government is telling you what to do, let's think of it like this. Your religious right should be government regulated. No more choice in the matter, you're now a Christian. Any practicing Muslims for example, will have their mosque raided, their practitioners arrested and charged for disobeying the law. You might as well, right, I mean, they control who you marry, and succeeding in your right to terminate your own pregnancy, let's take more of your liberties away.

You have no right to murder an individual... nope, nope, just stop right there. That's an issue where you consider the advancement of science and more importantly civilization where it's become more difficult to hide a body or get away with the vary act of murder. Science can already narrow down the culprit, and then that's if the person committing the murder hasn't thought of all the variables for a perfect murder. Just because the Bible says thou shall not kill, and our laws forbid it, doesn't mean those two things stop murder. It's not right, but it happens. It's all whether you choose to do so. Choice. And that's the word.