Another Great Stolen Idea

Stolen from The Real World... Blogger Style:Create a short story.

Jick Johnson new it was going to be a bad day today when he woke up this morning and noticed that...

Now you add a new line in the comments, and then the next line in the next comment, and so on, and on, and on ...

Anger Management 101

Wow. Last night I was a mess. Rarely have I had such a high voltage of angry adrenaline shooting through my veins.

Maybe it was from listening to Rollins all day. But I've done that before without a similar reaction. Usually Rollins is a good way for me to release anger, not pent it up and explode in a fury of blinded madness.

It was probably the difficult work day, or the whiskey. Or a combination of both. It doesn't really matter now, nor did it ever I guess. Everybody is entitled to a whiskey soaked anger freak now and then.

It appears that I frightened Bob into quitting. (Remember Bob? He was my newly hired production manager.) He says that I threatened him with a "large flashlight." Of course I dont remember any of it. The rat bastard didn't even give me the courtesy of a two week notice.

Maybe I need to discover some new ways to take recreation aside from the whiskey bottle. Like pills. Yeah. Maybe I will invest in some pills...

Yeah right, pills... What I really need right now is a pillow.

Kill 'em All

I've been listening to The Rollins Band The End of Silence pretty much since I got up this morning. I had a horrific fuckin day at work, and guess what? The bottle of Beam I bought several weeks ago, you know when the Chiefs got beat by the Indiana Cocksuckers... Anyway, it is a very angry bottle.

I AM PISSED.

I spent the day trying hard to feel apathy for people. I'm so fucking sick of it. There are high school kids here in Iowa who want to have an automatic registry for kegs.

What the hell is that?

They went to the statehouse and wasted my taxpaying dollars because they are afraid that somebody might buy a keg and not be held responsible for something thast went wrong with somebody drinking it.

I am so fucking sick and tired of these apathetic fucks and their liberal social bullshit that I swear I am about to go librarian hunting.

"My pussy hurts!"

I say Fuck you! I'm so wiggin from you left wing motherfuckers that I am squirting napalm out of my ears. If I see you tonight, I will unlock the inner beast, release the crows, and set your fucking apathetic little souls on fire.

LEAVE ME ALONE. FUCK YOU.

RRRRROOOOOOAAAAAARRRRR!

Redundant Post

Click here.

Friday Morning Ramblings....

Wordfoolery

I have grown accustomed to occasionally waking up with wood. But I would be jolted right out of bed if I ever happened to wake up with Woody.

I don't usually enjoy waking up at the crack of dawn. But I would really, really, really hate to wake up at the crack of Donny.

Or maybe this is a better version: I woke up at the crack of Dawn once, when I just graduated high school. Damn! That bitch needs to put some soap on her ass!

Welcome Aboard, Bob.

I just hired Bob to the Gooseneck staff as my new production manager. He telescribes what is running through my mind and gives it to me on a printed page. It makes it easier for me to keep up with my light speed thinking, and therefore makes it easier to relay it all to you. Lets all give Bob a big Gooseneck welcome.

Keep On Zonking in the Free World.

The Zonk board is now officially unfiltered... If you must cuss on it (and it certainally appears that you must) go ahead. I aint going to deny you your First Amendment rights. Nope! Not here. (As far as your second amendment rights... Please leave your guns at the address bar.)

Brad's Site

Have you been to Turf's Eye View yet? If not what the fuck are you waiting for? This is a free blogosphere. You dont need an invitation! Now get your ass over there and check it out. (And tell him that the Goose sent ya!)

Get Out and Vote!

I had a nice surge of voters vote for me as their favorite blog member at The Real World... Blogger Style when I first joined up. But I have noticed that these last few days, the voting has come to a standstill. First of all, if you did vote for me, thank you very much. Your support is well appreciated. Now, if you haven't voted yet, and you would like to vote for me, please go there and do it now. I really want to win this thing... Because the victory celebration is gonna be huge!

Is that all that we got, Bob? For right now it is? Ok that's all we got.

Out!

Zonk Board

The Zonk Board is now up and running.

I went against my gut feeling and installed it. I honestly do not need another "toy" to occupy more of my time on this damn ol' computer. I barely get away with the time I spend on it now.

But what the hell, right? You only live once.

(Btw, Thanks to Jonnie for supplying me with the zoo photo on the left.)

OK Here You Go dept.

Many of you had some very good questions, and I will now be happy to answer them for you...

Boz: Lumpy played himself in Leave it to Beaver

Sloth: Yes. The Pimpress is real. (As for the good eatin remark, I cant comment... I haven't been to that buffet.)

Haws: Todd lost the URL to his blog and it is currently floating in cyberspace with all the other lost abandoned sites. However he promises to get a new one up and rolling soon, and he promised I would be the first to know. You will be the 2nd.

Belle: What a silly question. Everybody knows that there is no square root of 548,810... Its a prime number! Nice try though!

Tommy: I would be glad to assasinate your downstairs, hillbilly, white trash yelling-at-each-other all the time, stupid dog having, leaving bags of trash outside their door neighbors... For beer. Or just for fellowship during a Cubs game. (And beer.)

Melissa: Gooseneck was a name I picked for my blog totally at random with no other reason then that it was unique and solid.

Haws (#2): The coldest day in Budapest's history was January 14th, 1947. Just trust me on this one.

Todd: See what? (Oooohhhh!!! I turned the question around, didn't I?)

Pimpress (1): Yes it makes a sound. Noise is not limited to sources of reception. It happens all around whether anybody (or a recording device) is there to hear it or not.

Pimpress (2): Sponges in the ocean? Nobody knows! The crazy thing is nobody is even studying the problem!

Pimpress (3): I called my buddy Rick who works at a fire hydrant factory, and he said that he parks in a parking lot and gets a ride into work in a shuttle. He said he didn't know where they park the shuttle...

Dennis M: Wow, what a great question... What happens if you take 6 tabs of Levitra and Viagra and watch 12 hours of porn while eating 3 dozen oysters? I know the answer to this: You end up with a sore penis the next day, and all you can remember is taking on one hell of a beating. Then you puke up the oysters. Thats alot of oysters.

That was great guys... I appreciate being able to answer your questions, and I didn't even have to use one of my life lines!

Lets do it again sometime.

A Goodie

Stolen from Martin at Savland:

Wife: Let’s go out and have some fun tonight.
Husband: Okay, but if you get home before I do, leave the hall light on.

Good stuff, indeed.

Uh Oh!

I hear a strange noise outside... I hope that it's not Satan!

(I dont think that I could handle that right now.)

Update!

It was just a tractor snowplow. Whew!

What the Fuck dept.

If you like mushrooms and you like badgers, then you will love this.

(I am a connoisseur of both, so I of course was delighted...)

Which Star of the Real World... Blogger Style are you?





Which Real World ... Blogger Style cast member are you!


Like there was any doubt whom I would be! Nice job Boz!

Funky Funks and Cheese

Robb at Over Fed Mind says he is in a funk.

A funk is bad. As are funks in general.

But... Funk is great .

Weird, huh? Just by adding a S to a great word automatically turns it into a word that is a bad thing. (Although you can still be in a funk, which is a bad thing.) So as long as there is no A before Funk, or a S after, Funk is a great thing.

Are you still with me?

Now what if you were in a funk...band? Another great thing.

Here's another example of wordfoolery: I love cheese and I love head. But I hate headcheese.

But that is all for now. Maybe I will have some more wordfoolery later.

Ciao.

The Real World... Blog Style

Check out my new digs:



You know that show on MTV that none of us (males) over 30 can stand to watch?

Now there is a new version... The Real World... Blogger Style and I, the Goose, just moved in. Come check it out.

Erectile Dysfunction

(No. Not me.)

I woke up this morning with 6 white inches.... of fluffy snow on the ground.

I was immediately taken back to last night when, while watching the Discovery Channel I saw a commercial with Mike Ditka pimping Levitra. So much for his namesake, huh?

Iron Mike Ditka. Sheeesh!

Anyway, that's all I got.

Out!

Go Ahead, Ask Me Anything!

I was just window shopping over at the Pimpress's weblog a few minutes ago and I noticed that she had posted a question/answer segment where her readers asked her questions, and then she answered them on a later post.

What a great idea!

By now you should all know that it is not beyond me to steal an idea, so go ahead and ask me any questions that you want to, and in a few days I will answer them all with honest to goodness truth.

Surely there are burning questions, so Go ahead, ask me anything!

Mission to Mars

The red planet has been beckoning us since man invented a telescope strong enough to see it up close. Now we have definitive proof of what the Mars landscape looks like from it's very surface because we have two unmanned rover vehicles combing it, sending back amazing images as it travels the rocky terrain.

The pictures show a surface smooth and dark red in some places, and strewn with fragmented slabs of light bedrock in others. Bounce marks left by the rover's air bags when it landed were clearly visible.



So far, as you can see, there is no proof of alien life, but it has been determined that the southern pole of the planet could be covered with ice, which makes NASA scientists wonder if life on Mars is possible or did exist at one time. The common hypothesis is that where there is ice there is water, and where there is water, there is life.

(I agree with this hypothesis to a certain extent, but I can almost guarantee that there is no life in my toilet bowl, or kitchen sink. At least there better not be.)

"I am flabbergasted. I am astonished. I am blown away. Opportunity has touched down in an alien and bizarre landscape," said Steven Squyres, of Cornell University and the mission's main scientist.

Opportunity for what? Opportunity to see photos of a rock terrain landscape? To me, it looks like black and white photos of Central Montana, or Southeren Afganistan. If a Wal-mart or a meat packing plant showed up on one of the images, that would mean opportunity.

Mission members hooted and hollered as the images splashed on a screen in mission control at NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena. Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger was there with his wife, Maria Shriver, to watch the drama unfold, and walked through mission control shaking hands with the scientists.

Wow. It just gets better and better.

Schwarzenegger was quoted as saying in his deep Austrian accent, "I've seen landscape like this before. In the back production room of Universal Studios!"

Then he added, "I'm the Governor."

NASA has unveiled plans to to do further testing on Mars, including sending a humanoid robot there in 2006 to see if Pepsi tastes the same there as it does on Earth. Apparently, this came as the result of the urging of Schwarzenegger who volunteered to go, wearing his Terminator costume from the movie.

When he was informed that the conditions on Mars are not suitable to support human life, Schwarzenegger replied, "That's why I will wear the costume."

There is no alien life on Mars. Apparently it's all right here, and governing the state of California.

Over the Hills and Far Away...



The Tele-Apes Have Come to Play

Calling All Iowa Bloggers

By now many of you who read this site regularly are aware of the Rocky Top Brigade, a site that is a coalition of bloggers from the wonderful state of Tennessee.

(In hindsight, I dont think I have ever mentioned RTB before on this site. But I constantly refer to Big Stupid Tommy and he is a member.)

Anyway, my point is, why not do something similar for the bloggers of the (ahem!) great state of Iowa? We could form our own coalition, complete with a creed and a monthly celebration that is a rotated blog system from it's members. Who's in?

I know of at least three other bloggers besides myself whom are from Iowa and might be interested... They are:

Hawspipe

Robb at Over Fed Mind

Brad at Turf's Eye View

And my brother apparently has a site going, but I am unsure of the URL...

First of all, are you guys interested?

Secondly, who wants to set it up? I nominate Haws if he is interested because he has been doing this longer than any one of us. He has more knowledge of the HTML codes, color schemes, etc.

Third, What will it consist of? Will we just fly by the seat of our pants until we get it, or will we go in with a plan? Who will write the creed? What are the standards? I recommend that whatever they are, that they are serious. And the same with the creed. I think that we need to represent great pride in Iowa if we do this.

Fourthly, (fourthly?) what will we call it? The Cornfield Coalition comes to mind. Or Cornflakes. I am wide open to better and other ideas.

And Fifth, what are the requirements to be involved? Do you have to live in Iowa, or can you still be a part of it if you are just native to Iowa. Either way, I dont care. If Haws runs off to practice Law in China, I still would like to have him be a member.

I think that this is a great idea... what do you guys (The four I mentioned above) think? And if you are aware of any other bloggers from Iowa, by all means turn them on.

Come on Iowa, Represent!

Cyborg Name



The only thing I kill efficiently and ceaseless is beer.

I stole this from Jonnie. Get yours here.

Weird Times in Michigan

Wow.

The first thing I noticed about the beautiful state of Michigan is that it is colder than hell up there. We had barely crossed the Indiana border when we were driving through a blizzard with a curtain of whipping snow and 25 MPH winds of 35 below zero.

"Damn", I said to myself. "I'm not ready for this kind of weather at all."

I was wearing all of the winter clothing I had brought with me: A heavy hooded sweatshirt, a pair of thick warm gloves (Thank God I had those), and an Iowa Hawkeye baseball cap. I was in for a long week. And not just all because of the weather.

This was the first time I have ever attended a camping conference. But I was soon to realize that there are two types of people that attend these things. On one hand you've got your typical camping people who seem normal and regular in every way. They love their jobs and the kids who attend their camps, and all there is to do with the camping industry, but when all the hooplah is over and the last seminar intersession is closed for the day, they like to go into town and warm up at a cozy bar with a nice tall ice cold Budweiser. Or twelve. This is the category that I fall in.

However on the other hand, you have this small group of right wing Christian Extremists who made it their every intention to stop the regular people like myself from going into town to the local pub because they believed that the local pub is a breeding ground for that red guy with the horns and the pitchfork who lives downstairs.

Their entire agenda became throwing flames of guilt to those of us who were drinking, criticizing us, questioning our values, and crying that there was no place for that kind of person in the camping business. Pretty soon, it became their main focus. No longer were they attending intersessions of their own, learning ways to improve their respective camps, but instead plotted together to find ways to keep us from going into town.

It was silly. Really silly.

Now, who do you suppose got more out of the conference? Those who spent valuable learning time trying to lock the doors of camp so no one could leave, or those of us who attended the intersessions, converged at the pub afterwards and had discussions about what we had learned, made new contacts, and basically created a new community by turning a group of strangers into friends?

Pretty soon, I wasn't able to take any more of their rhetoric. It was time for some serious retaliation.

Mike Marsh, a friend of mine, and colleague, and fellow Bigfoot enthusiast travelled up there with me. He is a national figure in the camping industry, as he is considered to be the best in the nation in the field of Outdoor Education. Monthly he travels nationally to host seminars at colleges and universities and to speak at enviromental social engagements. He is untouchable in every sense, and to many, unapproachable. People at this convention would turn to eachother and point at him and whisper. He has this inexplicable guru status that unknowing to him puts him on this pedestal in the eyes of the camping community. And he, like me, was one of the pub crawlers.

We were seated at dinner Wednesday night at a table with several other people, planning our evening activities. As soon as we mentioned beer, I saw this one particular woman twitch like she had a a nervous tick. Mike also caught this, and we saw blood. Suddenly our conversation turned into a dialog of debauchery.

We turned to Rob, a conference attendee from Ohio who was staying in the cabin we shared. he had been sick from the moment he arrived, and spent his evenings sleeping, with Nyquil as his drug of choice. Naturally, we would ask him daily if he was feeling better, and if he wanted to ride into town with us to the Barking Frog, the local establishment. He would always decline, and then spend the night in the cabin in his Nyquil induced sleep. So at dinner this Wednesday evening, with the wicked right wing cunt from hell sitting next to us, we asked him again.

"So Rob," I said, "what is it tonight? Nyquil or beer?"
Mike jumped in. "Both!"
"Yeah!", I said. "Or better yet, we can all drink a bottle of Robitussin and then head to the bar!"
Nodding with hidden laughter and an evil grin on his face, Mike said, "Yes! Robotrippin!"
"There is nothing better than the buzz you get after drinking eight or nine beers on top of a stomach full of Robitussin!" I chimed.

The right wing cunt was now beside herself. Everyone at the table celebrated this obvious joke with a round of laughter, but she twitched and squirmed like a cat shot in the leg with a .22 rifle. And she would cringe everytime somebody mentioned beer. She was obviously disgusted and showed how appalled she was by moving to a different table. We ate our dinner, enjoyed the evening speaker, and then went to the pub.

The next night, Thursday, there were suddenly activities to enjoy in the gym after dinner. 3 on 3 basketball, volleyball, kayak water polo... These were just a few. They were set up as a diversion to going into town to the bar. But it was too late. This battle was already lost. It was afterall the last evening of the conference, and the majority of the people were ready to cut loose.

"Saddle up the van, we are going to the bar." That seemed to be the resounding battle cry.


The Townies

The local men in the pub were a rare breed. They lived a life of extreme drunkeness, country music, fondling bar whores, and ice fishing. And they just thought that us "camp folks" were "neater than shit." I met Ben during a game of pool. Foggy Mountain Breakdown was screaming out of the juke box, and Ben was picking his pool cue like it was an imaginary banjo. He then took his shot and sprayed balls all over the table, missing horribly. When he talked he slurred his words, and stood with a constant swagger using his banjo/pool cue as a third leg to establish some balance. He found it extremely amazing that I was from Iowa "right next to Ohio", and that I came all that way to attend that conference. Most people might have had a hard time figuring out what he was attempting to say, but not me. I had been there myself, once or twice before, the outcast of the bar, the drunk fucker who cant stand up or talk, who amazingly keeps getting served without a watchful eye from the bartender.

He had all the swagger of a drunk mule and the look in his eye of Nick Nolte, after a barfight. He was good people.

I easily beat him in pool, forfieted the next game, and asked him to join me at the bar for a shot of something sweet and warm. He eagerly agreed, and then about fell over trying to grab the waitress's ass as she walked by saying "I'll show you sweet and warm!"

I knew I was slightly out of my league with this guy, but that is what made him so interesting. We enjoyed a shot of Barenjager and spent much of the rest of the evening discussing ice fishing and telling dirty jokes. Eventually I went to the bathroom and when I came out he was gone. That was Tuesday night, and I never saw him again.

However, every night the rest of the week, there seemed to be a townie who was willing to wear his shoes, drinking like a sailor, talking in slurred words about ice fishing and fucking, and basically just being a nuisance to everyone in the bar whom he would swagger over to talk to.

It was great. The townies rocked.

Regis and me

Regis Philbin was the keynote speaker on Wednesday after breakfast. He gave a great motivational speech that got everybody all fired up, and it was actually, quite a good presentation.

After his speech I got up to get a cup of coffee, and when I got back to my table, I was astonished to see that Regis had taken perch in an empty chair right next to mine.

"Anyone sitting here?" he asked.
"Not me," I said, sitting in my own chair.
"So what exactly does everyone here do?" he asked, and that pretty much set the tone for the next ten minutes or so, and people would walk by and pat him on the shoulder or shake his hand and tell him that they liked his speech and what not. After about ten minutes or so, the majority of people had broken off into their little group sessions, and then there were only a few of us sitting around the table talking. The subject turned to football.

It turns out that Regis is a big 49ers fan, and despite the fact that they currently suck he is still a fan and will support them no matter what. Thats noble enough I guess, but then he got stupid. The subject switched to coaching.

"I heard on ESPN last week that Bill Walsh was considering coming out of retirement to coach again, " I said.
"What!?", answered Regis, "Bill Walsh? No way. There is not a chance in hell. Bill Walsh will never come out of retirement."
"Well, never say never. You give him the right situation and a bunch of zeros on his paycheck, and he might be willing to step back into the game."
"No. Not a frozen chance in hell."

What the fuck? I thought. What's so ridiculous about it?

I let him have it. "Regis you are a tool. Look at Ver Meil. Look at Parcells. Look at Joe Gibbs for Christ sake! What is so unbelievable about Walsh coming back? Right now Norv Turner is interviewing with the Oakland Faders! I'm not saying that Bill Walsh is coming back, I'm saying that there is a chance that he might."
"Well, Bill walsh will not come back to the NFL. I can guarantee that!"
"Do you know him Regis?" I asked.
"Look I dont want to talk about it. Bill Walsh will not come back to the NFL. He's too old."

Regis's face was now dark red. A rigid dark vein appeared on his forehead. When he spoke this last time he sprayed spit on me. He started foaming at the lips, like a rabid animal. He was obviously losing it.

But I was getting fired up too.

"Regis, there is nothing unusual about Bill Walsh coming back into the league. Joe Gibbs was out for 12 years. 12 fucking years, and he came back. He was given the right situation and he is making good bank. There is nothing to say that Bill Walsh wont be back if he is given a favorable situation."
" He dont need the money. Look. I dont want to talk about it anymore. I have a session I need to be at."

In a fit of anger Regis got up and left the table. Those of us who were sitting there looked at eachother with incredulation. I think that we all thought that we had just witnessed something spectacular. Mike looked at me smiling huge.

"You called Regis Philbin a tool.", he said. "That is the most amazing conversation I have ever sat through. That was fucking awesome."

I now had an identity at the conference. I was suddenly the guy who made Regis Philbin freak out and foam at the mouth. I went from being nobody at all to becoming known on a first name basis with everybody at the convention. Not everybody liked it, of course, but I dont care. It was awesome. Regis is truly a tool.

And finally, a word of thanks

Its nice to be home. Thanks to all who emailed me photos, I need to go through and sort them all out and see what I have. So far the ones that I have seen are great. Thanks to Jonnie, Ciance, Nate in Bakersfield, and Hawspipe (so far) for your submissions.

Ah. Its nice to be back.

Happy Birthday Tory!

Just in case I cannot get to a computer in the next few days, I'd like to wish Baby Goose an early Happy Birthday. She turns 4 on Tuesday.



Happy Birthday, Sweetie. I love you forever.

I Need Unusual Photos and/or Artwork

I am looking for off the wall photos to fill in that revolving door photo space underneath the Cubs marquee there on the left. I have changing the photo every week or so, and I do have a few more on tap, but I forsee the inventory dwindling soon.

I especially like unusual roadsigns and things of that ilk.

If you would like to have one of your unusual photos printed on this page, or perhaps some artwork, please send them to me in my email. I should be able to transfer them to my photoshop so I dont take up space from your ISP. I will post as many as I can (depending on theme and content). Plus I will give you credit, of course.

Thanks!

Chiefs Hire Cunningham

The Chiefs have brought Defensive Coordinator Gunther Cunningham back to the team. He was solid with the Chiefs a few years back, and will make a HUGE difference in the teams ability to stop the other teams from driving down the field and scoring at will.

The Denver Post says that this hire will push the Chiefs over the top. Check it out.

This is great news. Adding the no nonsense Gunther might just be what it takes to sharpen the Chiefs skills. They should now be a shoo in to repeat as AFC West Champs, as the Chargers are in a shambled mess, the Raiders suck donkey balls, and the only real threat in the division, the Broncos... Well, just take note that Gunther is a Bronco basher. He was 4-0 against them when he was the Chiefs head coach in 1999-2000. He hates the Broncs as much as the rest of us who root for KC.

He might just be the missing link that will carry the Chiefs to the next level: Super Bowl Champs.

Welcome back, Gunther.

(Now if the Cubs could just lock down Pudge Rodriguez.)

Letter From Gooseneck

Dear Truckers,

Tomorrow I am heading out of town until Friday, so depending on whether or not I can get to an internet connection, this may be one of my last posts until then.

I will be in Southern Michigan for a camping conference, somewhere in the woods near Kalamazoo. I hear its a great time, but time will tell.

Honestly I would rather stay here in Iowa, as my daughter turns 4 on Tuesday, and as you might know, the Iowa Caucuses are on tap for tomorrow. Like I said, I will be at a camping conference, probably without the imnemities of home such as computer and television. So I cant say for sure that I will know any of the political results until I get back Friday.

Bummer.

Then again, I might get lucky and find a computer to log in on and check the caucus results and continue Gooseneck from there. Or find a local newspaper.

So if you dont see me around for a few days, thats what the deal is. Hopefully, however, this wont happen.

Love, Gooseneck

Shitty Horse Stories

Today was a hell of a day. Last summer the camp I work at built an equestrian center with 14 stalls for horses, a classroom, and a couple of offices. It is really nice, like a million dollar building.

I had the luck of being the guy that painted the classroom and a bathroom today.

And then the joy of shovelling piles of horseshit as high as my knees out of 3 stalls.

Needless to say, I put in a long hard day.

It was rough. I didn't mind painting the walls so much. But I had to paint the ceilings too, and also the floors.

Finally, when I was finished, I was feeling pretty good about myself for a good hard days work when all of a sudden the powers that be decided that it would be a great time to clean out the horse stalls.

I conurred. The horse stalls were a mess. They were in some definate need of cleaning. I just wasn't sure that I was the right guy for the job. After all, I was still basking in the glory of having completed the painting of two entire rooms.

The rest of my afternoon should be spent at the local happy hour, right?

That's what I thought, but I knew it wouldn't be that way today.

Oh well, I thought, thats the way that it goes. Sometimes you got to do whatever it takes to help the team.

But it SUCKED!

The camp has yet to hire an equestrian center director because of budgeting conflicts (no money), so the seven of us who are on the full time staff generally help out where ever we are needed and do whatever we have to do to keep the camp running smoothly.

And as I found out today, sometimes that means shovelling horseshit out of horse stalls.

First of all, the place reeked of that strong ammonia piss smell that is often present at livestock farms. And by strong, I mean very strong.

My nose couldn't handle it, and snot rolled out of it continously for the entire 4 hours that I was scooping shit. And the fact that I was knee deep in the stuff? Well that just made me happier than Elmo in a French Tickler factory. (Yeah, right.)

But then later, a transformation occured.

Now that it is over, and I am showered, fed, and relaxed (the wife made me a great hamburger for dinner), I am kind of glad that I was in there. I'm not really sure why, it must be that whole "yeah I accomplished a lot today" thing.

Or maybe it was the fact that I know that I worked hard today and overcame some serious spells of being uncomfortable. That always makes you feel good about yourself when its all over.

I was miles out of my comfort zone, that much I am sure of. And I'll bet that I sleep like a freaking baby tonight.

Nah! What am I thinking? It SUCKED!

Note: I wasn't alone in my work related misery today, Rousiecat's day was also less than epic.

Misery loves company. Say goodnight Gooseneck. Zzzzzz

Scary Moment

Tonight my daughter about gave me a heart attack.

"Daddy, I'm having a baby!", she said.

Holy shit!, I thought. You're so young!

Turns out that she was only pretending. She is only three after all.

RIP Olive Drive Liquors

This is just a quick shout out to Nate in Bakersfield who today is enjoying his first day of temporary retirement.

His place of occupation the last four years, Olive Drive Liquors in Oildale, California has been sold to a new owner and Nate is moving on to bigger and better things.

Please take a second and give Nate a big Gooseneck send off and wish him the best in his future endeavors. And lets hope that they don't check his pockets and backpack when he makes his final exit out the door.

Good luck hermano. I hope that things work out well for you.

The Circus is in Town.



I Spent a good part of the day in Des Moines today doing some certification stuff for work.

Now in case you have been hiding out in a spider hole over the last month or so, right now Iowa is the focus of America because next week the Iowa Caucuses begin. So naturally all of the national media have began to converge on Des Moines and are staking their claims if you will, along the downtown streets.

All the big boys are here. This aint your local news story, these are the big dogs from all 3 of the power networks, plus CNN and Fox News, and about a dozen or so other cable news stations. They're parking their big trucks along the downtown streets, you know the ones with the giant satelite dishes on top, each one parked at the most remaining opportune spot, or one that generates the most scenery. It's really quite fascinating because otherwise the streets seem to be empty.

What's even more fascinating is what some of these people are wearing. Heavy parkas with Eskimo hoods, snow pants, and giant boots that I have only previously seen in the famous moonwalk photos. These guys are dressed for below zero tempatures.

Iowa is a strange state weather wise. It can be 65 degrees one day, then snowing like hell the next. It can be the coldest place in the country in January, which I am assuming these news guys were told, but today it probably got up to 45 degrees. In other words it was warm. There was no need to be dressed like a man climbing the Himilayas.

So driving the work van to my certification training, I see this guy from one of the national news channels (I recognized him but dont know his name). He is standing on a corner waiting for me to go by so he can cross the street, and I see that he is wearing the Eskimo parka and the moon boots.

I pull up to him with my window rolled down and said, "Scuse me, how many miles to Ankorage?"

He looked at me with that look most people give me when they dont know if I am asking a serious stupid question or just fucking around. And before he could answer, I drove off.

"Geez", I muttered to myself. "Somebody gave that dipshit a bad weather report."

But he wasn't the only one dressed like that. I saw several other network people dressed like it was the freaking ice age.

Myself, I was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt and I was perfectly comfortable. An Antartic jumpsuit would have just given me sweaty balls.

It's not even the weekend yet, and it's already getting crazy. Batten down the hatches, the circus is in town.

Gee Whiz Guys...

Judging by the obsene number of comments left in conjunction with the previous post, I can only assume that you guys didn't get that it is a joke. Or more than likely, I suppose, it just isn't funny.

Sigh.

You know, when I wrote it, I thought it was hilarious. Now that I've come back to it and read it again, I gotta say that I agree with you.

I wouldn't have left a comment either.

Oh well, win some... Lose some.

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Quick Post

This will be a relatively quick post as I dont have much time being I'm on my lunch break. The beanie weinies are roasting in the microwave, and it will be a good coating to my empty stomach. They're a weird food, huh? Seperately, beans and weiners dont get me too excited. But you put them together and Damn! You have an instant culinary treat.

I am feeling the effects of a hangover today, as I spent most of the day yesterday drinking heavily with a friend who just found out he is getting divorced. We hit bars in about 4 different towns, and finally ended up at one of the bars here locally... By that time we had been putting them down for about 10 hours. No food, no water, just beer. Needless to say, I woke up this morning extremely hungover and hungry, and more than a little bit dehydrated.

And to make it all worse, I am working outside today putting up fences around a horse pasture. That in itself is a tedius job to be dealing with a hangover with, but throw the fact in that there is a wind advisory for most of the state today, and a windchill of less than 0 degrees, and you have a outright miserable situation. Doesn't that seem like a good job to do in July? I think so.

Well, the microwave buzzer went off several minutes ago, so I guess I will get a quick bite, and then mosey on back to the ranch.

Stupid horses.

Dont Read This.

Please ignore this post.

Bored Games

It's late and I cant sleep. Usually when this happens, I surf the web a bit and search for cool stuff that I can steal. Why would this night be any different?

I got this from Tommy's site.

Pholph's Scrabble Generator My Scrabble© Score is: 33. What is your score? Get it here.

You dont even want to play me in scrabble.

Chiefs

This is my response to the Kansas City Chiefs debacle that occured yesterday.

First of all, I want to congratulate the Colts. They are a fine team that displays alot of class. It's easy to want to root for them if they arent playing the Chiefs. I put them in a category with The Titans, the Panthers, the Texans and some other young well coached teams that demonstrate the game of football with all of the class and toughness that a NFL team should be. I say it's easy to root for teams that have good character, just like its easy to despise teams like the Raiders that dont have any class, and show disdain for the league (and their fans) by demonstrating bad sportsmanship, using performance enhancing drugs, committing stupid penalties, and bad talking their coach to the press. So with that said, congrats to the Colts, I wish them well. If Peyton Manning stays as hot as he has been the last 3 games, the rest of the playoff teams are in for a wake up call. He is focused and he means business. And I think that he wanted a championship a little bit more than Kansas City.

Sports are crazy. As a fan, I live and die by the baseball and football season. As much as I hate it, I let it affect my moods and my personality. Giese left a comment about how everything started to go south suddenly late in the 4th quarter yesterday. I spilled a beer and a glass full of ice off a coffee table, I apparently ran my hands through my hair constantly... While the Chiefs crumbled, I did too. I lost my dignity and even worse my grip on reality.

Sports do this to me. I cant think of anything else that generates me so much anxiety and despair. The Cubs did it to me in October, and to a lesser degree, the Chiefs did it to me yesterday. I was a wreck in October. The Cubs stint in the NLCS drained me of all that I had. I wasn't sleeping well, I wasn't performing well at work, I felt like a junkie after a loss. I couldn't wait till they played again so I could experience the jubilation of a victory. Then it was quickly over, and another baseball season had ended with the Cubs failing to do the one glorious thing that would carry my jubilation over the hump. And it hurt. It still hurts. But I did learn from it. I decided in the end that the Cubs had one of those magical seasons that I had only to that point dreamt about. I was thankful for what they did do for me, not pissed off and disappointed for what they were not able to accomplish.

And that is the attitude I developed with the Chiefs late in the NFL season.

It is no secret that their defense couldn't stop a high school team, and you knew that every game was bound to be a shoot out. The winner was going to be the team that scored the most points before time ran out, and truthfully, if you had asked me at the beginning of the season if I would be satisfied with a division championship and a 13-4 record, I would have said hell, yes. They were not even picked to finish 3rd in the division according to one preseason rag that I had read. So yes I am extremely happy about that part of it all.

However, when you watch your team start off like the Chiefs did, 9-0, and seemingly unbeatable, it hurts to watch the wheels fall off as the season dips into the final quarter. It's got to be like leading the last laps of a nascar event when the car is almost out of gas. You know that there is no time to pull off, because you will lose position, but the gas guage needle is digging deep into the bottom of the dashboard... Yet you keep pushing... Chugging... And hoping that everything will hold together long enough to finish the race... That's what this season seemed like to me.

The solution is very simple: Immediately fire the defensive staff. Everyone from the Defensive coordinator on down to all his assistants. Then hire a fresh reputable person (Lovey Smith comes to mind) and allow him to hire his own staff. Then spend the off season hiring any good defensive players who are free agents that can add strength to the team. Then of course use the draft wisely and bring in young strong players that are eager to win and have experienced winning in college.

That's what it will take to push the Chiefs over the edge next year and get them into the Super Bowl.

I think I have some more to say, so I will continue this post at a later time.

Mid Day Post

Before I go off and spew about the Chiefs and their lack of defense, I want to get my thoughts together and get sane. I have a lot to say about it and some thoughts on some other topics too, but I dont have the time to do it right now. So if you are coming here looking for a retort of yesterday's game, just be paitient. It is forthcoming, but not readily available.

And for the record, I endorse the Thought Minion.



See? Told you so. That little button proves it. I don't, however, know what I am endorsing him for. But it doesn't matter. He gets my ringing endorsement anyway.

Ciao.

Gotcher Game Face On?

G'morning truckers!

This is the day that I have been long awaiting... the day that a group of my malicious* friends come to my house, drink beer like vikings** watch a little*** football and for a little while put aside all of the troubles in our individual worlds.

It's kind of like revenge on New Years Eve.

I graciously picked up another 30 pack of Old Stlye last night, along with about 45 pounds of munchies, a bottle of Jim Beam, and a goat chew for Jaxon. (He tends to get a little excited at parties. The goat chew should deter him from chewing on Hawspipe's leather shoes.) There will be corn chips and homemade salsa, some guacamole, and sodas and juice packs for the kids. Plus I brewed up a big ol' pot of black bean chili.

At high noon the showdown begins. The all mighty Kansas City Chiefs host the limp dick team from Indiana, the Indianapolis Colts at the loud over obnoxious Arrowhead Stadium. (Limp dick because they shot their wad last week.) I'm not necessarily a betting man, (although it seems that I give heavily every year to my fantasy football opponents), but if I was, I'd put my money on the Chiefs. They should win easily today by say, three or four hundred points****.

But I wont dive too heavily into that topic this morning. If you want to read my breakdown of the Chiefs playoff scenario, click here.

The roster is a lively one. I expect a rambunctious turnout especially if Big Mike shows up. He'll stir shit up more than an electric mixer.

Speaking of Stir It Up, I think that I will motor up some Bob Marley. Yeah. That's what I'm in the mood for. Mellow festive good time music with positive melodies.

'Scuse me while I light my spliff
Oh Lord I got to take a lift
From reality I just cant drift
That's why I'm down with the riff

Yeah. Skanktown Rock. That's what I'm talking about.

So anyway, here is the current roster:

For Sures

Hawspipe
Robb from Over Fed Mind
Giese and his beautiful family
Scotty from Des Moines

Probables

Mike the Bigfoot guy
Coppertop and Eli

Hopefuls

Big Mike
The chick with two asses

And of course, you are welcome. I know it's short notice, but there is plenty of room.

So ok without further adoo, here we go. Let's rock and roll this joint.

Go Chiefs!!!!

*Ok, they're not malicious. It just sounds good.
**The real vikings, not the football team
***Ok a lot.
****Give or take a point or two

Found Him

This came to me this morning via Nate in Bakersfield. (Thanks, Nate.)



It's never going to stop, is it?

Embarrassing Moments I'll Never Disclose

Sometimes you fellow bloggers really surprise me. I mean some of the topics you come up with... and the lack of shame that you feel about those particular topics.

Here, this is an example: I came across Jonnie's post where he is writing about getting caught peeing in his own face by his mother as a kid.

Man I tell you what... If that had happened to me, there is no way I would tell anybody about it.

Kinda like that time I got caught masturbating inside the monkey house at the Lincoln Park Zoo in Chicago. I mean come on! That is way too embarrassing and personal to discuss on this page. And besides, if my friends ever found out about it, I would never live it down. And worse yet, if my boss ever found out about it, I'd probably lose my job. I still cant believe that that lady never called security!

Or that time I shit my pants standing in line at Kentucky Fried Chicken. It was all liquid like and running down my leg.... I think I got some on my hands and my face. I was so embarrassed! I never told anybody about that, and I never will. Are you kidding? My friends would bug the hell out of me if they found out. (I didn't even tell my wife about that one.)

One time I was sitting at a bar alone as it was empty. The only person there, the bartender told me that if I would try it, she would give me a Zima for free. I did the quick look around thing to make sure that my friends wern't about to walk in on me, and said, "Ok."

Here is the part that I will never disclose: I liked it. In fact I ordered (gasp!) another one! Ha. If my buddies knew about that, I would never hear the end of it.

So as you can see, I tend to keep my embarrassing moments to myself. I like being accepted by my peers, and if they knew about any of these things, I would automatically lose credibility with them and be an instant outcast. And I am way too clever to ever let that happen.

If you pee in your face and want to write about it, thats your business. But you will never hear about my embarrassing moments.

Fill in the Blank dept...

Finish this sentence.

I will never forget that time I bought one of those....

Good Bye Seduced?

One of my favorite blogs is shutting down(?). This really bums me out.

Adios Brotha... If and when you ever return, your link will remain here. Good luck.

Blood Spitting and Other Childhood Memories

I was reading Glenn the Contractor Peon's blog, Hi. I'm Black! tonight and he mentioned something that brought me back to my childhood. He was writing about WWF Anthology, a 3 CD set of past and present professional wrestling themes.

Wow.

I remember watching wrestling when I was a kid when the matches were still in black and white. (Hell, now that I think about it, maybe we didn't have a color TV.) When I first started watching it, it wasn't nearly the production that it has become today. It was called All Star Wrestling, and it came on at noon on Saturday just before Wide World of Sports on ABC.

I remember my brother and I getting so geeked up for it. It wound us up real good. We'd "fight" eachother for hours after it was over, complete with fake punches and sound effects. Sometimes we would stage giant neighborhood "fake fights" where all the boys in the neighborhood (all 50 of them) would gather in our yard and commence to "fight" ultra violent bar room brawl type fake fights off of our deck and throughout the yard.

There were heads smashing together, people thrown off of cars, fights on the ground hockey player style, and it was all fake. It was beautiful. However, I'm sure the people next door thought that we were nuts.

Violence was king of the day. We had All Star Wrestling with the likes of Bulldog Bob Brown, Harley Race, and Bruiser Brody. We would all pick our favorites and assume that role while we "fought." We would also throw violent Hollywood movies into the mix like Every Which Way but Loose starring Clint Eastwood, and Gator starring Burt Reynolds and Jerry Reed. And, if I remember right, I believe that the Lone Ranger and Zorro were still cool, as well as The Fonz and the boys from The Dukes of Hazzard. This made the fights real interesting, as it was not unusual to have one kid take on the identity of Bo Luke and another the likes of Bruiser Bob Sweetan, one of the meanest professional wrestlers ever to step into the ring.

And if it started to get a little boring, I remember my brother would break out the fake blood that he had leftover from Halloween. A few dabs here and a couple there, and then it got all interesting again. Next thing you know it was on our faces, our arms, our shirts... On our mouths... Heh. It was awesome.

And speaking of blood... God I used to stare at the back of my brother's Kiss Alive albums and the pictures of Gene Simmons with blood coming out of his mouth... That was like the most evil cool thing ever. I stared at those pictures for hours.

Wow. Thanks for bringing back the memories, Glenn.

Gooseneck Quiz

From Big Stupid Tommy, I stole this idea:

How well do you know Gooseneck? Take this Quiz and find out.

Photo Caption Contest dept.

Ok there are really no winners in these, because I am too cheap to offer prizes, but please be assured that there are no losers either. This came to me via email from Todd C., and I couldn't resist. (Thanks bro.)



Ok lets hear it.

Computer Games, Blogs, and the Hall of Fame

Well, I went to Best Buy to return the game Combat Flight Simulater 3 and they told me that I couldn't return it because I had opened the package. So I guess next time before spending 40 rubles on a game, I had better know for sure if or not I really want it. I thought about trying to sell it, but instead think that I will buy a joystick and try it again. It's got to be easier than using the computer keypad.

The actual name of the other game I liked is Conspiracies, not Conspiracy like I mentioned earlier. I would like to find out a little more info about it before I plop down cash for it. I did learn something from this whole experience.

Check These Out

Go ahead and take a ride over to Ultrablognetic and The Uncouth Sloth.

Ultrablognetic is a new site that I came across. It's fun to read in an old James Bond novel kind of way. Many posts are accompanied with old Hollywood photography, and they are well written and insightful.

I have been reading the Sloth for quite some time now. As far as I am concerned, he is the voice of the Chicago Cubs Fan. His heart is truly in it, and you can tell by his writings that he actually has a lust for a Chicago National League World Championship. (Yes I said lust.) And he doesn't fuck around. He says what he means, and if you dont like it, then too bad. I think that those two attributes are what make his page so fun to read.

Speaking of Chicago Cubs, congratulations to Dennis Eckersly, an ex Cub, on his induction into the Hall of Fame. However, it's a crying shame that one person who should have been a no brainer was overlooked: Ryne Sandberg. He is only the best 2nd baseman ever. And with that comment I mean the complete package. He could steal bases, hit for average, and crush homeruns. And his defense was flawless.

It is ridiculous that the sports writers didn't vote him in. I am quickly losing faith in the systems, whether it's the BCS in NCAA football or the obvious bias against certain individuals getting voted into the Hall. They fucked up with Roger Maris, by not voting him in, and they fucked up with Sandberg. And whats sickening, these are the same fucks who refer to people like Craig Biggio and Roberto Alomar as future Hall of Famers. Sure they're good, (well Alomar used to be) but neither one of those pussies have had the career that Ryno had. It's sickening. Bloody fucking sickening.

Barry Ween Boy Genius

Several weeks ago Paul at Noxturne sent me a copy of a book called The Adventures of Barry Ween Boy Genius by Judd Winick.

The book itself is in comic book form... Which makes it cool enough, but it is unlike any comic I have ever read. I am not a big comic guy. When I was a kid I had the obligatory Spiderman and Superman comics, The Archie and Jugheads, and some novelty comics like The Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers, and True Stories About UFOs. Of course like virtually everything else I used to own that would be considered a collectors item today, I no longer have these. They were probably thrown out by my mother (along with tens of thousands of baseball and football cards from the early 70's) or tattered through excessive reading and tossed into the trash or set on fire by me or my brother. So it was refreshing to receive this copy from Paul.

Barry Ween Boy Genius is a three part comic, with three individual stories that actually link together. The characters are Barry Ween of course, a 10 year old foul mouthed genius who is basically smarter than any other human alive and is able to use his brain power to make incredible inventions (which I will go into more in a little bit.), his best friend Jeremy, another foul mouthed kid who is not a genius, but basically your prototypical all American 10 year old boy, and the girl that Barry likes, Sara, another non-genius normal 10 year old. Other characters develop throughout the book, but these three are the main characters.

In the first story the kids travel to the zoo as a class on a field trip from school. Barry is sent telepathic messages from a giant gorilla and is summoned to return to the zoo later that night to set it free. The gorilla's name is Bezeruul and he explains to the kids (Jeremy accompanies Barry and also Sara) that he accidently fell through a portal from his dimension and landed in Africa, was subsequently caught, and put in a zoo. Now the reason that he summoned Barry with telepathic communications is so that he would come back to the zoo and release him so he can return to his dimension through another portal. They have to travel 7 miles or so to catch this portal, and in the travels they experience a battle with the Tolans, warriors from Bezeruul's dimension that come to earth to try to stop him from going back. In the end, Barry uses a death ray that he invented and wipes out the Tolans, sends Bezeruul back through his portal, and walks Jeremy and Sara back home. He then zaps Sara with a ray that erases her memory of everything that they did that night. Jeremy, however he trusts, as he never seems to find it weird that Barry has this incredible brain power or the ability to invent such things as death rays and memory erasing laser beams. He is after all a typical 10 year old boy who lives in a typical 10 year old fantasy land.

The second story finds Barry and Jeremy on a camping trip in the woods with Barry's parents who inadvertently get kidnapped by a hungry Bigfoot. Of course Jeremy is totally flipped out but Barry is cool and calm, and seems to know exactly where the Bigfoot village is. (He is afterall a genius.) They go there and summon the "leader" and through a little interrogation process with a ray gun are able to intimidate the Bigfoot into telling them where they might be able to find his parents. They are led to this secret little place by a young female Bigfoot named Roxie, who has taught herself how to read and complains of being bored living in the Bigfoot culture. She leads the boys to the place that Barry's parents are being held captive, and Barry shows his thanks by turning Roxie into a normal human looking girl. To make a long story short, Barry's parents are saved, and hit with the mind eraser ray so they dont remember any of this crazy stuff. Jeremy falls in love with Roxie, and she joins them back to town where Barry sets her up with foster parents and enrolls her in school. Its a happy ending that has some hilarious dialog between Barry and Jeremy. I think that writing it out would be frivolous, as the pictures are what actually do it justice. You really need to find this book and read it.

Finally, the 3rd story takes place at the school where the kids are getting ready for the fourth grade dance. Barry wants to ask Sara, but doesn't have the nerve too, and Jeremy of course is going with Roxie. Sara ends up going with another boy, so Barry plans to spend the night at home alone. It's when he changes his mind that the fun starts. Like the movie Outbreak, a monkey carrying a deadly respiratory disease breaks away from scientists and decides to hide out in the school. You can imagine the immediate danger that this puts everybody in, but luckily for them Barry Ween comes to the rescue. By using his incredible inventions and his wits he is able to save the day.

Barry Ween is a great read. Though juvenile at times, it is incredibly imaginative and is good for several hard laughs. The dialog is smooth, and realistic, and the pictures are well drawn and funny. It contains more swear words than a George Carlin routine, but is easily just as funny. There are a lot of little pokes at societies social norms, like Ryan for instance, the pimple faced fat kid who's parents are in an uproar and want to sue the school over sex education being taught to fourth graders:

Not that they should have any fear. No one was ever gonna have sex with Ryan. He's ten, got a bald spot, and sweats like a sumo wrestler in an iron works factory.

It goes on to say,

Its his sister Debbie (junior at Kennedy High) that they should lock up in the basement. She's slept with half the varsity soccer team and had a tryst with the home economics teacher Ms. Livonia. I've got some pictures. I showed Jeremy some on his birthday.

Barry: You see the ones with the salad tongs yet?
Jeremy (with bulging eyes): Aaaah!
Barry: Ah, there it is.

This book is obviously about kids, but not for kids. But it might be for you if you like reading stories in comic book style with unpredictable story lines and imaginative dialog. The pictures are clear and well drawn, and contain hilarious imagry. Access more information by visiting Judd Winick's website.

This is a great, fun read. Dont take my word for it, but go out and buy yourself a copy, and see for yourself. Just be preapared to laugh.

In Over My Head

I went to Best Buy tonight because I had a $50 moneycard leftover from Christmas. I thought, what the hell, I will buy a game. So I looked around, and to be honest, I did not have a clue as to what I was looking for. But I knew that if something jumped out at me, then walla. That might be the game I buy.

So I looked around for a good hour and a half, and then eventually I narrowed it down to 2 games. One, called Conspiracy seemed cool enough. It was about a retired private detective who gets called back to work on one last case. It takes him into an underworld of weirdness, a secret society where things are not what they seem, and it's impossible to know who you can trust etc etc...

The second one was Combat Flight Simulator 3 which is pretty self explanatory. You are the pilot during WW2 and you have to learn how to fly a fighter jet and finish missions that they send you on.

I chose the latter. Not sure why, it just seemed to appeal to me more. Besides I have always wanted a flight simulator game because I saw a friend of mine playing one once. He made it look so easy, and boy was I fooled. I absolutely suck at it. I cant get the planes off of the ground, and when I go to automatic mode, where it starts you out in the air, I cant keep the planes up in the sky. And it keeps telling me that I let London down. Great! To add insult to injury, now London hates me.

I have no idea what I am doing, and to be honest, I am already so fed up with it, that I have no desire to ever play it again.

I should have bought Conspiracy. Maybe I will try to take The Combat Flight Simulator back to Best Buy and see if they will let me trade. I hope so. I'm just way to far in over my head. I've got no business trying to fly a fucking fighter jet...

Also... The Jackass movie soundtrack doesn't have Sophisticated Bitch by Public Enemy nor Made in Japan by Buck Owens. What a rip.

Rat-Check

Apparently...

Before starting our cars in the morning, we are advised to pop open the hoods to make sure that there aren't any rats nestled within our engines.

Yep. I'm serious.

Rats like to build nests in car engines.

It's happened at least twice at the Los Alamos National Laboratory in Los Alamos, New Mexico this past month. Both times the cars caught fire and flames had to be put out with a fire extinguisher. It was a situation of high drama for the people involved, as well as the rats.

But I want to know what's worse... Having a rodent chopped into rat suey in your engine while you are in the safety of your vehicle's cab, or opening the hood to make sure that the little critter aint in there only to have him jump out and and start gnawing on your face...

I'll take scorched rat suey every day.

Some Thoughts on the Chiefs

The Chief's playoff picture became clear today as the Indianapolis Colts anhililated the Denver Broncos. The Chiefs drew the higher seed of the wild card round winners, which pits them against Indianapolis next Sunday at 12:00 central time. That means that Tennessee will travel to New England to party with the Patriots.

Now here is the perfect scenario: Indianapolis has already shot their wad... Is it likely they will be able to duplicate today's amazing performance next week in the frozen confines of Arrowhead Stadium? I think not. Playing in the dome is one thing, but playing outside in a loud rowdy stadium full of playoff crazed lunatics just might be too much for them to handle. I see the Chiefs winning this game easily.

(In a perfect scenario mind you...)

What needs to happen up in New England is what has already happened all year long. Tennessee needs to go and surprise everybody and beat the Pats. They have been underdogs all year long due mostly to injuries, but have proven to be the most resilient team in the NFL. Nobody can get it done like Jeff Fisher and company. This needs to happen because, A. If the Chiefs do beat the Colts at Arrowhead, I don't like their chances the following week in New England, and B. Knocking the Pats (and the Colts) out of the playoffs would ensure the Chiefs Home field advantage in the Championship game. And the Chiefs are 13-0 in their last 13 games at home. Not that I think that the Titans are a pushover, because I don't. Like I said, they are the most resilient team in the NFL, and the team to beat as far as I am concerned.

If the chips fall into place with this scenario, then the Chiefs have a legit shot at going to the Super Bowl. If not, I'm afraid they are doomed. But then again, anything can happen... That's why they play the games.

The Monkey On My Back

It's 2:00 and I cant sleep. Never mind that I have to be at work in about 5 hours... that's the least of my worries. It will come soon enough, and sure enough at that.

What has me puzzled is why my body has decided to suddenly go on nightwatch. It refuses to sleep, and instead feeds my mind with amazing images and exciting thoughts of randomness... Where's the vacuum?... What time is it in China?... Who the fuck cares?... Apparently I do... Did I leave the stove on?...

These insane ramblings go on for hours , all behind closed eyes and with my ear on a pillow.

I got up at 1:00 and cracked a beer. I tried to find something of a soothing sense on the satelite, but at 1:00 on a Saturday morning, there is nothing on tv that is remotely designed to resemble a lullaby...

I hit the remote and decided to finish the book I have been reading off and on for a couple of months now, The Curse of Lono by H.S. Thompson, which took the better part of 20 minutes. It left me hungry for more, like a childhood friend who left me alone on the playground as the school bell rang. I sighed and chugged the rest of my Old Style.

I thought of a man I met in the Arizona desert in 1994, an old Indian shaman. We were bullshitting about some books I had read by Carlos Castaneda, and particularly about the Yaqui Indian's use of Psychtropic drugs. He said something to me that stuck, and I have very little memory of that conversation at this time except for those words that he told me. He said, "If and when you hear voices, be assured that you are really hearing them. They are really there."

Suddenly I had another thought... Could it be?... Maybe! I crunched some numbers in my head and did some quick calculations. Yes by god it is. I'll be damned.

2004 is the Chinese year of the monkey. This has no value effect at all except that it is also my birthday year which brings it all full circle. The anniversary is said to be a good thing, lucky in all the right cosmic senses and extremely beneficial in health and prosperity to the person celebrating the reunion.

This might explain why my mind has decided to take on midnight alley roaming. The voices were calling to me, distracting me from anything normal, saying anything to get my attention. I haven't slept for more than 3 or 4 hours at a time since Thursday, and until now, I didn't have a logical explanation as to why.

Maybe I slept too much while I was sick, I thought. No. I should still be tired now.

But it is the year of the monkey and my mind is struggling to release itself from the pit of isolation that it has been trapped in for the last several years. It's time again to be a mover and a shaker... To stir things up again, to run till my feet fall off, to prosper and shine... to take my turn and do the right things that I need to, to make this world a better place for me and my family and be a servant to righeousness and futility.

This is not the time to be sleeping. There will be time for that in 2005.

Res ipsa loquitur. Let the good times roll.

Rambles, Jackasses, Pain, The Chupacabra, and Prosthetic Legs

Ok. My wife wants to be on here soon, so I got to write something fast. She thinks I will be done in here by the time she gets herself showered etc. and ready for bed. Why? 'Cause I told her I would be.

And besides, I got to work early tomorrow. Cooking breakfast at 6:00.

Yippee I Fucking Aye.

The only thing that is slowing me down is a topic. Since I dont really have one, I will just ramble, so if you are looking for this to go somewhere, then you might be disappointed.

We just watched Jackass The Movie . (Will someone please tell me how to underline something on here?) I've seen it now like 4 or 5 times. Tonight was my wife's first viewing. She cant believe that those guys can put themselves through so much pain. I tried to tell her that most guys I know seem to have at least a high tolerance of pain, if not a craving for it. I know that I do. I used to see how hard I could wreck my bike and stupid shit like that, and I, and most guys I know have been targets in BB gun fights, or towell snapping contests, the wrong end of a flaming bottle rocket... It's all part of being a guy.

I would love to see the Jackass guys go on one of those All Request Live shows where the TV audience calls in and makes requests, and they perform them live on the air. It'd be a great prime time event. Can you imagine?

"Ok, We have Gooseneck here from Iowa."

"'Sup dudes?"

"What would you like to see the guys from Jackass do tonight?"

"Um, I'd like to see them pour a pan of hot hamburger helper on Steve O's naked balls and asshole. Or if they cant do that, maybe they could dip Wee Man headfirst into a vat of hot oil?"

"Alrighty, then. I think that we have the stuff here on stage that we need to perform those stunts... They will do it!! And remember, these guys are professionals. Do not try this at home."

"Ok Thank you!"

That would be fun to watch, perhaps more so than anything that has ever been watched before.

The thing that I really liked about that movie also, was the soundtrack. I love that Public Enemy song "Sophisticated Bitch" and a few others, whom I dont know the artists. As I'm watching it I'm hearing the tunes and I'm thinking, I could stand owning this soundtrack. Plus they put on Buck Owen's "Made in Japan", which is extremely cool, not just because it's Buck Owens, but because somebody else besides me still listens to him. (I know Nate. You Bakersfielders are all over Buck.) I never thought that I'd have a wish list on here, because I cant even get people to buy my stuff for themselves, let alone get them to buy something that I want for me. However, in this case it wouldn't hurt to ask I guess... If you own the Jackass Movie Soundtrack and you are sick of it and dont want it anymore, or you found religion and were going to throw it away, think of your good ol buddy here at Gooseneck. I would be DELIGHTED to take it away from you, free of charge. Hell we might even be able to work out a trade or something. (I've got a vast CD collection diverse as a New York City strip mall.) Just get with me on the comments, and we can work it out.

The post previous to this one generated quite a response. Thats good, because thats one of my resolutions this year. Work smarter not harder. By leaving a small post of very few words and generating a good response, I have worked less, and yet haven't cheated you out of good Gooseneck reading material. Your comments actually were the post. Cool Keith at Ultrablognetic called it genius. I thought that summed it up pretty well...

It's been a good year. So far without a hitch. Getting here was kind of slimy, but now that the worse is presumably left behind, its been roses and clowns. I dont make resolutions too often. I mentioned the one above, but that was more a joke than an actual resolution, although it is advice I intend to follow.

Instead, I set goals. I intend to save alot of money this year, and hopefully buy a house in the not so distant future. I intend to do more family bonding activities, and trade the chupacabra in for one of those minature elephants I saw last week on Ripleys Believe It or Not. The hard part will be finding one. They supposedly became extinct in 1934, but that doesn't always mean that they aren't still around. Surely there is a cryptozoologist out there somewhere that will help me round one up.

Jaxon is a good chupacabra, but he eats goats, and they get expensive. Plus over Christmas he kept chewing on Uncle Dick's prosthetic leg. I probably shouldn't have taken him with us to grandma's house, but WTF. It was his Christmas too, and Uncle Dick didn't really seem to care too much about it until he started feeling those phantom pains he gets when he is violently frightened.

But I digress.

Most of you guys are probably about over your hangovers by now, aren't you? Lucky bastards. I love a Happy New Year hangover but well, you already know the story. I got mine unexpectedly on New Years Eve. Oh well. I will get one next year.

I wonder if my wife is coming in here anytime soon?

Oh she's already in bed asleep. I guess she isn't getting on here tonight after all. Oh well. It's late and I work early. I'm out of practice, so I want to ween myself back into my 3-4 hours of sleep a night schedule slowly. Tonight I should be able to get 5 and a half if I fall asleep soon. Think of me tomorrow. While the rest of you are resting and watching NFL, I will be kicking ass on the flattop grill and the dual convection ovens.

Like I said earlier, Yippee I Fucking Aye.

Ciao, Truckers

Post O' Nothing

This post says nothing at all. However, feel free to comment.

Iron Chef New Years

Hawkeye er... Happy New Year peeps!

Wow. What a foggy week this has been. Not in the alcoholic induced sense, but more in the doctor prescribed medicine sense. Things were looking all good and rosy on Monday then Wham! I got sucker punched by the flu.

Actually I think it is something more severe, like pneumonia. I recognize the symptoms, I've met the old wintry bastard before. He treated me like a bitch then, and he's all about kicking my ass again this time.

The doctor diagnosed me with a sinus infection. Yeah. Right.

Well, as they might say on the X files, this aint no ordinary sinus infection.

Besides, it was Monday when I got the good doc's opinion, and I didn't get kicked in the head until later that evening. For all I know I caught whatever in his office. Luckily, from a sleep standpoint he loaded me up with amoxicillan and codeine, and I've taken enough tylenol this week to sedate a rhinoceros.... So that blended in with my personal psychotic delusions, it's a little cloudy in here today.

Needless to say, I missed out on all of the New Years Eve celebrations. I spent mine horizontally on the sofa drifting in and out of conscienceness to continuous running episodes of The Iron Chef. It was a round robin single elimination tournament spectacular, with only one possible deemed world champion, or King Iron Chef.

...If my memory serves me right, the winner was... Charles Bronson, French Chef born in China. (Looks like Charles Bronson to me.)



I knew the guy could kill people with expedited authority, but was amazed to learn that he possesses equal skills in the kitchen.

It's amazing how the Iron Chefs can take an animal normally only seen on the Discovery Channel, like an octopus, and turn it into a royal buffet smorgasboard.

Anyway, that is what I have been up to. I wish I had drunken stories to tell of New Years celebration, but no.

I was struck down yet again by my old bastard nemesis, the viral infection. Though better, I am not quite feeling normal yet. Hopefully I will get to feeling that way soon, and then on to a more reliable posting schedule.

Did you know that Charles Bronson wore glasses? I didn't.

(Congrats to the Hawkeyes for winning the Outback Bowl!)