Wednesday, July 01, 2009

Good times, bad times, you know I’ve had my share, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

Groundbreaking
South Carolina Gov. Mark Sanford described his Argentina tryst as “a forbidden, tragic love story.” In a related story, construction began today on the Douche Bag Hall of Fame.

Huh?
A Bogota’s soccer team’s newly named coach, Rubin Israel, quit and left Columbia before coaching one game due to death threats. Gosh, I wonder what those people in Columbia could be doing that would make them so edgy and cranky?

Scary
At a press conference for his deceased son, Michael Jackson’s father, Joe, started by plugging his record label. I think the name of Joe’s recording company is S.B.F.R., Soulless Bottom Feeder Records.

At a press conference for his deceased son, Michael Jackson’s father, Joe, started by plugging his record label. After observing this scary sleaze-bucket, Joe Jackson, is anyone really surprised at how screwed up poor Michael Jackson ended being?

Good match
Now that Al Franken has won his Senate race, Norm Coleman has now lost elections in Minnesota to a pro wrestler and a comedian; Coleman, however, is said to be confident in his run for the state legislature against an accordian-playing ventriloquist.

Get nekkid and cool down
Environmentalists claim being naked a couple hours a day will help fight global warming. Guys are going to run with this: “Hey, baby, whaddya say we go back to my place and save the planet?”

Environmentalists claim being naked a couple hours a day will help fight global warming; some experts see this as a simple and insightful way to fight global warming, others see this as a lame attempt by lonely environmentalists to nude up with the babes.

Running her mouth
In an interview with “Runners World” Sarah Palin said she would beat President Barack Obama in a road race because she has better endurance. Oh, please. The only way Barack could lose to Palin in any race is if he chose her for vice president.

Makes sense
A survey reveals, since the economy went bad, condom sales have gone up; that makes sense, it’s bound to have an effect when you hear over and over again how screwed we are.

Running her mouth, 2 & 3
In an interview with “Runners World” Sarah Palin said she would beat President Barack Obama in a road race because she has better endurance. Oh please, she would have a better chance trying to beat David Letterman at a Top Ten list.

In “Runners World” Sarah Palin said she would beat President Barack Obama in a road race because she has better endurance. The trash talking has begun. An anonymous White House official replied Obama would like to race Palin, but he would smoke her and he is trying to quit.


Updating my own joke
Technology is amazing. Ten years ago if a guy asked a girl at a bar if he could Twitter, Facebook and Google her Wikipedia with his Palm Pilot he would have had a drink thrown in his face.


Since you asked:

Virg’s niece, Natalie, is visiting from Colorado. She is nine but an old, sweet soul and she gets along great with about-to-be-11, Ann Caroline, who is likewise.

It is also fun to see their itinerary because it is easy to forget how much there is to do in your own town. Here is my top ten list of things to do in and around San Diego during the Fourth:


The beach. (Includes all activities, surfing, boogie boarding, kayaking, fishing, sailing, etc.)

The San Diego Zoo.

Sea World.

Hiking Torrey Pines State Park or play golf at Torrey Pines Golf Course.

Legoland

The San Diego Fair for Fireworks (Right afterwards it is the Del Mar race track season)

Wild Animal Park

Picnic and watch the sunset (Del Mar, Solana Beach, Cardiff, La Jolla Shores, Seaport Village)

Ferry to and bike ride around Coronado, lunch at the Hotel Del Coronado.

Wine tasting in Temecula.

In the last ten years, going to Mexico for lobster went from #3 to falling completely off the list because of the rampant increase of violence and crime. Now when you read about a tragedy befalling an American tourist in Mexico, the risk is so ridiculously high, one no longer feels any empathy. It's sad, but true.

Also on the list could be one of my favorite things to do, eat at the Gaslamp's old school seafood and steak place, Lou and Mickeys and then saunter - and yes, I mean saunter - over to the friendly canines of Petco Park, aka Bark Park, Fido Field, Kitty City, Flea Field, Doggie Den, Parrot Place, Puppy Porch, to watch the Padres, especially if my beloved Cubbies are in town.

Oh, and picnic on the bay and then saunter - my, I've been doing a lot of sauntering lately - across the street to see a concert at Humphreys by the Bay.

And of course, come see me and our band, the Railheads, playing on a Friday night at a great sports/dive bar. That goes without saying.

Remember, there is a big difference between being naked and gettin' nekkid. Being naked is just taking off your clothes, gettin' nekkid is taking them off specifically to do some funny bidness.


Brown chicken, brown cow . . .


Not to excuse anything that ass-clown, Mark Sanford, did or said, but I do think my Winnetka upbringing can shed a tad of light on this topic ala his Winnetka born and raised wife, Jenny.

Not to get into trouble with my home girls, but Winnetka, as well as all wealthy suburban Chicago, generally speaking mind you, sprouts out two kinds of girls. The first are the overwhelming majority, very pretty, fit, cute, fun, sports-loving, Cub fan, tavern dancing, beer-pong-playing, funny "Woo Who" shouting down-to-earth and yet gorgeous and sweet midwestern girls, lord bless them. Think Ferris Bueller's hot girlfriend, actual-Winnetka-bred Ann Margaret and, on the artsy side, Liz Phair, close-to-Winnetka-bred Bonnie Hunt and wherever-she-is-from Anna Feris, Anna personifies the fun-type of Winnetka girl, to name a few. (Turns out Feris is from Baltimore)

The next type is the not-close-to-fun Winnetka girls are thankfully smaller in percentage, but, unfortunately do exist in solid numbers as spoiled rotten, snotty, wildly competitive, over-achieving, grasping, gold-digging social climbing, two-faced country club back-stabbing toxic-rumor-spewing, horribly sexually repressed ice queen socio-path evil shrews.

Did I mention they were gold diggers?

These are amazing and scary women who can say with their mouth; "It is so wonderfully nice to meet you" while their eyes say; "If I could wish you a horrible death, I would." It's chilling. Believe me, I know, I took some of their daughters out on dates.

For the evil types think Ferris Bueller's sister, Reese Whitherspoon in "Election," Joan Cusak in "High Fidelity" Their goddess is Martha Stewart. Their political goddess is close-to-Winnetka-bred Hillary Clinton.

The best example of this type in fiction is Mary Tyler Moore's bloodless character in "Ordinary People." And this isn't only about the money. The vilest and cruelly most heartless and greediest crazy beyatch I've ever met grew up in blue collar rusty-transmissions-on-the-barren-lawn white trash borderline poverty. They don't have to come from wealth, but they always end up marrying into it.

These are mothers who are far more concerned about their children's table manners than their children's happiness. They chose to shower their kids with expensive clothes rather than love. If rejected, you can always take clothes back. (My mother, and her good friends, were absolutely nothing like that)

And yet at UC Santa Barbara, I knew many pretty girls who grew up wealthy in rich towns outside of San Francisco and Los Angeles, and one from Bakersfield, who simply were beautiful, kind and sweet, friendly and honest and funny, not one anything like that hornet nest of evil women from suburban Chicago. Why buccolic suburban Chicago seems to spawn this viscoussness I have no idea.

These are the acid-blooded aliens, I've mentioned before, who would rather die than not write a nice hand-written "Thank You" note, but they would run someone down with their luxury SUV like a rabid dog if anyone got in the way of something they wanted.

Although I have no proof she is the latter evil Winnetka-bred woman, to me, Jenny Sullivan Sanford sure ain't no sweet, fun "woo who" shouting tavern gal neither.

I'm just sayin' . . .