Collinization
Saturday, June 21, 2003
 
Happy Birthday To Meh!

June 21st. My birthday. 23 today, woo fuckin hoo. 2 more years till that car insurance break. What a shitty in between year birthday. Oh well, I guess im getting old, because i really dont care at all that its my birthday today. All i wanted to do was play 18 holes and then go buy my new car.

The car will be ready on wednesday, and its fucking pouring here, for the 18,000th weekend in a row. Great day.

I'm gonna go get drunk now:)


Edit: Yes, it is 11 am. What of it!?!


 
DenBeste Has Lost It

I dunno what kind of flu that guy had, but its obviously affecting his brain. The guy I read to get challenged mentally each day, who has the most keen insights and understandings to everything from military tactics to quantum physics, is writing about Harry fucking Potter today. Somebody, somewhere, start a war for chrissakes.

Friday, June 20, 2003
 
Votes

Here's my votes for the new weblog showcase. All of the people i vote for should also vote for me, lest i hire orrin hatch to travel thru his phonelines and destroy your computer from within.

1. Hi! I'm Black! - Glenn is good when he's funny and good when he's serious. His topics are always interesting, and his writing has a good touch of the real to it. The picture on his main page is also histerical.

2. Across, Beyond, Through - Didn't get a chance to read through the rest of his blog, but this piece is exceptional. Very well written, very touching, very real. Everyone can identify with it, and I dunno how else to describe it; sometimes you just know what is good and what isn't. This is good. This is very good.

And finally:

3. Obnoxious Fumes - cuz he is dogging Michael Moore pretty hard, and I like it. Short and sweet, right to the point. works for me.
 
Find Joy In My Suffering!

Back by popular demand, here is the full recount of my 3 part tangle with excrutiating pain.

6/2/03 - Life Tells me, "Grab Your Ankles!"

Man, did I get shit on this weekend. Thursday my parents went away for 10 days. Sounds like the start of a great weekend. So thursday night, I'm at my softball game, just waiting for it to be over so we can all go bbq and get wasted in my backyard. About the 4th inning of the second game I hit a bomb to left field, home run. The weekend keeps getting better and better, and it ain't even friday yet! But wait, whats this? A hard hit ground ball to second? No problem, I sez to myself, so I bend down to get it...Hey, it looks like the ball might hit that rock-THUD! Bright stars buzzing around.

2 hours later, the doctor puts that 13th stitch into the bridge of my nose, and explains to me that I broke my nose in 3 different places. How you break 1 bone in 3 places is beyond me, but I guess that's why I can't afford a real website.

So here I am, 22 years old with the house to myself for 10 days, and a huge bag of frozen peas covering my face. Of course the painkillers they gave me(which don't work) don't mix very well with alcohol, so I get to hear all my friends get drunk while I suffer in the darkness of the green giant's bounty.

But what's this in the mail? It looks important. Oh, thats right, its the summons for that traffic infraction I committed over 2 friggin years ago, for next tuesday! Boy, it should be fun to explain to the judge that whatever I did wasn't my fault, even though I can't even remember what the hell the ticket was for, while staring at him through two huge swollen eyes. No sir, I didn't get into a fight, I just suck at softball. Suuuuuure.

Well my answering machine is blinking, maybe there's some good news on there. Let's see. First is the auto dealership, calling to tell me that the blue color on the 2004 subaru impreza RS is not the same blue that they have in the commercials, but rather a gay purplish thing that looks strangely similar to the color of my face after a few hours of swelling. Oh cruel fate, what more could you do to me? The next message MUST be good news, because bad luck comes in 3s, and we just got a hattrick on the car, right? Wrong! Next message is my dear, sweet sister, explaining to me that she made it safely upstate where she will spend the weekend. Innocent enough, it seems. But there's more! She casually forgot to bring the dog's medicine with her, but not because she forgot. Oh no, that would be much too simple. She accidentally took the wrong bottle, and the painkillers that don't mix with alcohol are in her luggage, while I am home to be conforted by antibiotics designed for a sheltie. Fucking Awesome.

6/5/03 - Thank You Sir, May I Have Another?

Tuesday I went to see the ENT(ear, nose, throat) doctor to see if i did any damage to my sinuses, after my golden glove performance last thursday. They told me all he had to do was take a look and make sure my sinus cavity wasn't damaged. What they neglected to mention on the phone of course, is that to look at my sinus cavity requires them to shove a fiber optic cable up there and wiggle it around. So I'm sitting in this chair, and the doctor has this weird tube run up my nose, about as thick as a paper clip, and he's rifling around in there, looking for bone chips, blood clots, and small stray rodents. This is a sensation I have never felt before; its not pain exactly, although it is excrutiatingly painful. Put it this way; when someone told you what an ear whig does if it gets into your ear, and you imagined what that would feel like as it tunneled toward your brain, that idea you had is what this feels like in real life. So im in this chair, wishing I had never seen the movie "Total Recall", and let me just tell you, I was ready to tell this guy where Bin Laden was hiding if he would just pull the thing out of my nose. Seriously, get this guy down to Gitmo and we'll have Al Queda in no time. So he's digging around in there and the nurse knocks on the door and calls the doctor, so he looks at me and goes "excuse me a minute". WHAT!?! So this guy leaves me sitting in my little chair, with a foot and a half of fiber optic cable up my nose; when I reallized that this is what it would look like to use cocaine intravenusly. For some reason I found that amusing, and I started to laugh to myself. BAD IDEA. I dont know what I did, but while I was laughing I guess I shook the cord loose and it came out that little hole in the back of my throat that my nose is connected to, only i thought it was a loogie. So I cleared my throat and low and behold, the other end of the tube was in my mouth. I pulled it out a little bit, and I saw the end coming out of my mouth. That shit freaked me out in a way I couldn't describe, and I said "Holy shit!" really, really loud (it probably sounded more like "hnnly shhhht"). The doctor came running in all scared, and he saw me sitting there like a retarded chimpanzee playing with an electrician's snake. So he grabs the cord, and whips it out of my nose at a tremendous speed. Now THAT shit hurt. The doctor then gave me that weird, crooked head, confused dog look, and the rest of the time I was there, he talked to me like I was a 4 year old child. I wonder why that was. Anyway I got a clean bill of health, so I never have to see that guy again. Which is good, because he was probably half a step from perscribing me a helmet.

So then today I went back to the plastic surgeon, who took my stitches out. Sorry folks, but this actually went according to procedure. I think he talked to the ENT though, because I was not once left unattended in his office, which is too bad, because he had a fun looking box of used syringes...Anyway, my nose is now shaped like a bannana, so next thursday I get to have it reset, which sounds like loads of fun. The doctor was kind enough to describe the process to me in detail: He will jam cotton into my nose until as full of shit as a Clinton(zing!), shoot me full of sweet, sweet novicaine, and then pop my nosebone back into its original position. What kind of neat, high tech gadget will he be using to do this, you ask? His friggin hand! And he's gonna get paid probably more than a thousand dollars to do it! What fuckin scam. Maybe I'll set up a street nose clinic; you break your nose, and for 50 bux ill grab that shit and yank it back into place. Im not really looking forward to it, in case you didn't notice. And that of course, lead me to write this form letter, and distribute it accordingly:

Dear little league baseball coach,

I don't know if you remember me, but I was once a player on your little league team. I was a good student, and when you told me to get down on ground balls, and stay in front of them, I did my best to listen and follow your advice, and I have kept it with me all these years. For all your hard work and dedication, there's something I want to tell you, and I mean it from the bottom of my heart:

Thanks for nothing, you son of a bitch. I'll get you for this, if its the last thing I do.

Sincerely,

John "The Face" Collins



6/13/03 "Don't worry, this will just take a second..."

So at the ungodly hour of 7:30 this morning I wander into the doctor's office to get my nose set. I've been hearing horror stories about what he is gonna do to me all week; one lady said they are gonna pack my nose with cotton and hit it with a ball-peen hammer, another guy said they are gonna just grab my nose and snap it back into place. Unfortunately, the people I talk to on a daily basis are completely retarded, as you may have noticed by now. So I go in there, I get into my little room and Im lying on this bed-bench type thing that moves; like the ones on the informercial. So the doctor comes in and talks to me a little bit, and then we start to play every doctor's most favoritist game in the whole wide world: "Does this hurt?"

I am not a medical doctor. But in my years of playing "Does this hurt?", I have found that on a pretty consistent basis, the doctor will poke at you a bit and say, "Does this hurt?"(Hence the name) and you reply yes or no. It's fairly simple and easy to understand. But today, "Does this hurt?" was a 1 player game. The doctor would push on a spot on my nose, and say(you guessed it) "Does this hurt?" and I would say, "Yeah, that fucking hurts!". Now, whenever I have played this game in the past, when you answer "yes", it implies that the doctor should stop doing whatever the hell it is that he is doing. But ohhh nooo, not today! Today "Yes" means "Push harder, you sadistic son of a bitch!"

This went on for about 5 minutes. He would poke the bridge of my nose in a spot, and I would say "Oww." He would then take his thumb, and push on the afformentioned spot as hard as he could, as I lay there in agony. I finally had to ask him, "Do you hear me telling you that it hurts?" To which he replied, "Yes, but it's supposed to hurt." Well why the hell are you asking me then!?!

So after a few hearty rounds of poke-n-squirm, good ole doc decides maybe I can have some novicaine now. How charitible of you. So he shoots me full of sweet, face numbing liquid and we wait for it to set in. About 5 minutes after, he comes back, and we are ready to begin. He pulls out this little tool that looks like a tiny pitching wedge, and shoves that shit up my nose. "Don't worry, this will just take a second" he says, and we all know what that means. He shoulda just told me it was going to hurt him alot more than it would hurt me, for all the comfort I got out of such a statement. And it's about this time that I realize, although my cheeks and upper lip are all numb, my nose is still surprisingly sensitive. This does not bode well at all. I wanted to tell him, but I didn't get a chance before he jammed that shit into my eye socket.

This was the single most intense pain I have ever felt in my life. The doctor is using this little wedge thing to push my nosebone back out of the indent, and he is using my upper lip as a point of leverage. So I grab the edge of the bed to squeeze instead of crying like a little girl, and its a good thing I did. Apparently, I am a very fast healer. The doc was having alot of trouble moving my nose bone, and at one point he lifted my entire body off of the bed while pulling up on his little tool. I weigh about 200 lbs, and this man has me suspended in air by a 4 inch metal rod, which is inserted in my right nostril. Good times, good times.

At least now, no one can tell me I don't know what its like to be a vietnamese prostitute. So I got that going for me. Which is good.

Time for part two, the left side of my crooked ass nose. The good news is, this part doesn't involve a metal shard entering one of my orifices. The bad news is, we do this one the old fashioned way. The doctor puts his two thumbs on the left side of my nosebone, and pushes, really really hard. Honestly, I'm glad this part was second, because compared to part one this was like a vacation. So he does what he has to do, and then we put the cast on. Don't get it wet, don't poke at it, don't use it to re-broadcast major league baseball, blah blah blah. So now we're all done; I got this weird white peice of plastic cemented to my face. The doctor says I should wait 5 or 10 minutes before driving; probably because I was stumbling from wall to wall as I walked down the hallway. So I serve my timeout, and set up my appointment to get the cast removed(only 1 week, woohoo). The receptionist asks me where I'm going, and I tell her im going down stairs to smoke a cigarette while I wait for my ride. And then she casually said something that I will never forget for the rest of my life:

"Oh, well be careful. If the spark gets too close to the cast, it will burst into flames."

They fucking boobytrapped my face. I have a cast that crumbles if it gets wet, and explodes into flames on first contact with a spark. I shoulda stayed at 2nd base, where it was safe. I can't wait till the inevitable part 4 of this story, where I light my head on fire, then have to go back to plastic surgeon and explain to him that I should not be allowed within 50 feet of things that burn, melt, or explode, much less have them glued to my grill. I wonder what sadistic devices of torture he will use to treat that injury? The only way to find out is to keep reading my blog! (Now I have you, muhuhuhahaha)

 
Copping Out

I want to enter the new weblog showcase again and crush my enemies with righteous fury, but i haven't got anything good to say. The road rage thing is cute, but too much set up and not enough payoff, im not that proud of it. So since I suck and the creative juices are just not flowing, im going to repost all 3 parts of my adventures in facial restructuring as a single post and enter it into the contest. Yeah im a wuss, but you know its funnier than anything else on this site so far, so vote for it or ill kill a bunny rabbit.

 
Road Rage: Sociopathic Disorder or Good Clean Fun?

I hear alot about road rage. Supposedly road rage is when you get angry at other people who act like assholes when they drive their car. In other words, road rage is completely rational behavior, only done in a moving automobile. Im tired of hearing about the psychos on the road, and how out of hand road rage leads to murder, accidents and nuclear holocaust(yeah, i have a nukular powered geo metro, what of it!?!). This is a bunch of bullshit being dished out by the same people who convinced you that SARS is the next plague(with its ph34rful 2% mortality rate) and the ever popular "Duck and Cover" to survive the blast of an A-Bomb.

Its like this: people are assholes. Everyone. You're an asshole, im an asshole, that guy you work with who always says please and thank you, he probably gets drunk and beats his dog every night. The only reason these people are not assholes all the time is because they have friends and acquantences whom they must treat civilly in order to get along with each day. Whereas on the road, such friendship is non-existant; you could give less than a shit about the guy in the 83 pinto who's going 20 mph in the left lane. To prove this, im going to relate a little story:

I was in upstate New York one time, and my mom and my uncle were coming up for the weekend. Mom got their first, and she was fuming mad, screaming about some nutjob in a brown conversion van who almost killed her at a tollbooth, and how she would give him a piece of her mind if she ever saw him again. She was absolutely livid. 15 minutes later, said uncle arrives, driving (what else) a brown conversion van. He entered the house also fuming mad, screaming about some idiot in a white mini-van who almost killed HIM at a tollbooth, and let out a group of explitives that would make Frank J. cry and hug a monkey. 2 minutes later, they came to the realization that they were talking about each other. All of the afformentioned "road rage" dissipated immediately. They were both ready to kill that "other guy", until they found out that the other guy was actually someone they knew, and all of a sudden it wasn't a big deal at all.

Road rage is not a problem. People get pissed because other people are assholes, it happens millions of times every day in every part of the world. Sometimes it happens in a car, and all of a sudden its a god damn epidemic threatening the lives of millions of Americans. I think its better to get upset at said idiot and let it out, rather than to allow that rage to boil and fester until your hair falls out and you assassinate a political figure. That's how it happens you know; Lee Harvey Oswald got cut off on the way to the parade and the rest is history. All because he was too polite to flip the guy off and be done with it. What a shame.

Because of the true epidemic of suppressed anger, which threatens the life of our leaders, I have compiled a list of a few tactics which will help one express their road rage in a rather uncivilized fashion.

1. Old Faithful - The bird. The one man salute. The finger. This is good for minor road rage, such as being cut off, or people going slow, turning without a blinker, or driving for miles with their blinker on and then finally turning after you assume that they are too old and senile to believe their blinker is on. This is the green level of the Homeland security guide to road rage.

2. Brake Check - The yellow level of road rage. This is applicable for people who cut you off and then go slow, people who box you in, almost hit you, and other similar infractions. The brake check is a simple procedure; bide your time until you can get infront of the offending asshole, and then slam on your brakes as hard as you can, but only for a second. After slamming on your brakes, it is important that you accelerate as quickly as possible, so as to avoid being struck in the rear. If you fail to complete this manuever, you will be rear ended by an asshole, and they will be pissed. If you don't think you can handle it, dont do it. and at the least, keep a small baseball bat or a mag lite with a minimum size of 3 d cell batteries to deal with the enraged motorist. The good news is that when someone strikes you in the rear, its their fault, regardless of what stupid shit you did wrong. Always repeat the mantra, "I saw a squirrel!"

***DISCLAIMER - All the activities listed below this line are most definately illegal. Do not attempt these if you are a law abiding citizen(pussy), or if you don't enjoy a good conversation with an angry police officer. In fact, nobody should ever do these things, ever. But its fun to think about doing them sometimes.

3. Buzzing the Tower - This is one of my personal favorites. Buzzing the tower is good for people going rediculously slow on a highway. This is not recommended for regular road use. To "Buzz the tower" is to pass someone while getting uncomfortably close to hitting them. If done properly, the front corner of your bumper should be about 4 inches away from the rear bumper of the victim(WATCH FOR BRAKELIGHTS). Then you pass the car, while keeping less than an arm's length of distance between the two vehicles. Finally, you must re-merge into the victims lane in front of them, getting your rear bumper again within 4 inches of their front bumper. This scares the shit out of people. Visibly. If its daytime, you can check your rear mirror and you can see their face twisted in horror, and then watch it shift to murderous rage. They won't do anything back to you though, because obviously your a psychopath and shouldn't be messed with. Plus you probably have a bat or a maglite in your car.

4. The Flaming Torpedo (smokers only) - This is a limited use tactic, as it only really works well done from a car onto an SUV. What you do is you take a lit cigarette, and puff it pretty fast so that you get a nice big cherry on the end. Once the size is sufficient, you hold your cigarette out the window on top of your car. If you have grooved door lines, it will catch good wind in those, they make a good launching pad. You hold the cigarette, cherry side back, and release into the wind, with a little twist to get it rotating(like a football). If done correctly, the cigarette will hit the windshield of the SUV behind you, and explode into a shower of sparks, again scaring the shit out of the driver. Only do this to people who have seriously wronged you, people, as sometimes it will cause said driver to jerk the wheel. I've never seen it cause an accident, but the potential is definately there. Best saved for empty roads, and for real deal assholes, like people who tailgate and draft you for 3 miles or more.

5. The Big Brown Bomb - You need some sort of brown, carbonated drink in a plastic bottle for this. Its a bit tricky, so you should probably never do this to anyone. You drink about half of the liquid, and then you close the cap just enough, and then you shake it for like half an hour, until its severely pressurized. Then you hold it out the window, and lob it up and pray that it hits the car your aiming for. If done properly, it will explode on impact, covering the other car with soda. Now hitting the windshield is always fun; but thats not the true nature of this attack. The real bitch of it is that soda gets all over the exterior of the car, and the windshield wipers, and it gets extremely sticky and gross. The victim will probably have to replace the windshield wipers, and have the car detailed to get all the brown stains off of the front grill of the car. If you are really feeling superiorly evil, do this with diet soda. Diet soda's sugar substitute eats away the clear coat and finish on car paint. If left overnight, it will eat away the actual paint as well, leaving a big metallic mark in the middle of a paint job, which will rust up in like 2 days if it isn't treated. This is only for use against people who have seriously endangered your life multiple times.


So there you have a list of various misdemeanors and felonies. Never do any of these things, as I have only heard about them, and never done any of them myself. EVER. EVER EVER EVER. (stare) But now you know what to expect when someone driving near you suffers from road rage. These tactics are guarenteed to infuriate the victim, and give the perpetrator a sense of vigilante justice on the concrete jungle that is the highway. If they didn't work, ill give you a full refund, which is nothing, so your refund will consist of a picture of me giving you old faithful. That is all.

Thursday, June 19, 2003
 
Bush Lays the Law Down

Alot of people wonder why I like President Bush. I'll tell you why; the man has a sack made of cast iron. Cahones. Basketballs for nuts. The dude has balls, plain and simple.

According to this article, Bush said this:
"The international community must come together to make it very clear to Iran that we will not tolerate the construction of a nuclear weapon"

And people say the guy has no diplomatic skills! Comeon now, this guy's from Texas. That's what he said, but you know what he really thinks is more along the lines of:

"Them a-rabs over there are gettin more ornery than Bill Clinton! If'n they don't cut out that there nukular bomb buildin, ima russle me up a posse and open up a can of woopass on those raghead motherfuckers. I'll put the fear of god into ya, you hear me boy?? That's right, now you done play nice with them half-bible folks, cuz half a bible is better'n no bible t'all, which is what you got, cameljockey."

Then he would hock one into a spittoon and take a swig of Jack Daniels. That's a man I would vote for, anyway.

All things considered, that is an excellent bit of diplomatic restraint. Of course, if he wasn't such a little girl about foreign policy, the pilgrimage to mecca would be a 1 way trip due to the severe radiation in the area for the next 500 years. If i were in charge, Wyoming would currently be New Israel, and Iraq would be the center of a crater so large that French people would be growing tails right now. [Insert cheese eating surrender monkey joke].

So yeah, for no reason in particular, Bush decided to start provoking the Iranian mullahs. Great timing, considering they are about 30 seconds away from a civil war there. I like this manuever, in fact I like it alot. Iran is one of those "face" cultures, where appearances are more important than reality(see also, Long Island). The best way to deal with people like this is to fuck with their heads as much as possible, and change the way you treat them for no particular reason. It makes them completely loco. How do I know this? Because I have friends and relatives like that, and it amuses me to make them squirm. Sure its a little more complex on the national and international levels, but not that much more complex. After all these Iranians aren't like elected leaders or anything, they are sheltered royalty who have been handed everything on a platter their whole lives, including their sovreignty. People like that are psychologically weak because they never had it hard, and so when trying to set them up for a fall (and make no mistake, this is exactly what Bush is doing), the best way to do it is to fuck with their heads for a while, get them nice and confused, and then backside them with a coup or a nuke or something. Im still pulling for the nuke, but the pragmatic in me sez that it aint gonna happen.

So vote Collins in 2004, and I swear to nuke the middle east and make cigarette smoking legal everywhere. Thank you, and god bless America.

Wednesday, June 18, 2003
 
That's Fucking Awesome

I bash the french plenty. Hell, I post over at Pave France. But today, I have been humbled by the mastery of french diplomacy. I don't know how they did it.

The United States method of dealing with terrorism in the past 2 years has been to hunt down and kill the terrorist pigdogs like so many rabid squirrels. Its an effective method, but it is costly in money, manpower, and loss of life. The french always said that we could talk these things out, and we scoffed at them. They said they could solve things through diplomacy, and we openly mocked them. Well I'll be eating a big bucket of crow with a shiteating grin on my face today, because french diplomacy has managed to convince Iranian terrorist supporters to light themselves on fire!.

Of course this was never the intent of the french government, but that's besides the point.

Not much more to be said, except thats fucking awesome.

I found this at LGF


 
Random Thoughts for Today

Nothing good to write about, so just some random stuff.

I have a franchise in MVP baseball 2003. Its the Yankees. Every time I play the Mets, the first time Mike Piazza comes up, I put Roger Clemens in and bean him. It just feels right.

I need to come up with something good for the new blog showcase, since I only got a pathetic 2 votes last time. But you people only enjoy my pain, and im not breaking any more bones this month. Someone else get hurt and tell me about it. Comeon, take one for the team.

I'm not gonna be able to pick up my new car on my birthday, which is a shot in the balls.

It's gonna pour on my birthday, which also means the Met/Yankee game will be rained out, so that's a double shot in the balls.

I made the finals in Frank J.'s caption contest, which rules. Unfortunately, most of the other entries are funnier than mine, so no free t-shirt. Yet another shot in the balls.

That's a compilation of 4 shots in the balls. And I would say getting hit in the sack 4 times is also a shot in the balls, making a grand total of 5 shots in the balls.

You can calculate how many octives your voice will be raised from being kicked repeatedly in the balls by taking the diameter of your left nut, and multiplying it by 2pi.

I just made that up, so don't try it.

I kicked my girlfriend's ass at mini golf last night, and rubbed it in until she got mad and stopped talking to me. I'm mature like that.

I heard a radio commercial last night that said "1 in 3 people who are HIV positive don't know it." Well if they don't know it, how the fuck do you know!?! And why haven't you told them yet, you sadistic bastards!?! Scaring people into HIV testing makes me want to murder insects and small animals.

And by "insects and small animals" I mean liberals and hippies.

Some guy shit the bed yesterday and rolled an oil tanker on the L.I.E.. It was a complete clusterfuck, and the driver died. My boss said "People who commit suicide are so inconsiderate", because he's a bitter and cynical old man.

I overslept that day and was an hour late for work, but nobody noticed, because everyone was an hour late because of the afformentioned clusterfuck. If I hadn't overslept, I would've been real close to the oil truck when it flipped over; I go to work at about the same time, and it happened at the ramp I take every morning. If I were a religious person, this would be weird. But i'm not, so we'll just call it dumb luck.

I went to church on sunday. Didn't go to the mass, or even in the church, but I went in the back of the parking lot and dumped some old clothes into the bin. To balance my Chi, I smoked a cigarette while I was doing it, and left the butt in the grass next to the church.

My cousin is graduating from middle school, and I have to go to a party with a bunch of 12 year olds and I have to wear a fucking suit. When I graduated college, I had a barbeque and she had to wear shorts and a t-shirt. That inconsiderate little snot.

The cast on my nose comes off tomorrow. With any luck, that will go extraordinarily badly, and I'll have something to write about for the weblog showcase.

Actually the cast came off on monday. I didn't want to tell the doctor it came off, because the reason it came off is that I was playing golf in the rain and got it wet. So I went to the E.R. to see if they could glue it back on for me real quick, but they wanted me to do paperwork and sit there. Fuck that. So I went to the pharmacy, and asked the pharmacist what I should use to reattach the thing. He gave me this shitty tape that I have to change every night to stick it to my face. The bastard had the balls to say "Don't worry, its flesh colored tape. People will hardly even notice it!"
That's right asshole, nobody will notice the 2 inch thick neon peach tape that I have to wrap around my head 6 times to get it to stick. Im pale and pasty white, you dumb fuck, plain white tape is closer to my skin color than this shit.

I think I have a problem with misdirected rage. It's not the pharmacists fault the tape doesn't match my skin, after all; its the government's fault.

I found a site that linked to my metallica post that was written in swedish. That's fuckin weird.

If you can read swedish, I would love to know what that shit says, by the way:)

Alot of other, more popular blogs have merchandise that they sell. But cheap t-shirts and coffee mugs aren't a great way to milk a cash cow. So im thinking about a Collinization stress toy, which would be one of those little bobble-head dolls, shaped like your narrator(that's me, you idiot). When you hit it in the face with a pen, the nose will snap over to the left, and then you can shove a little pin up it's nose and bend it back to straight. Maybe even give it one of those little motion activated voice things, and it can scream in agony. Who wants one?

I'm gonna change the subtitle of my site, because it annoys me. The new one is gonna be just as stupid, but slightly less annoying for a little while.

This is starting to get pretty weak, and I should probably wrap it up.

New York is a pretty ironic place. After 9/11, you would think everyone here would be pissed. But it turns out NY is full of people who's thinking goes along the lines of, "Its our fault 9/11 happened, we must have done something to anger these Muslim people for them to lash out this way. We need to change the way we behave toward them so it doesn't happen again." The ironic part is that in the wake of this, the same people who beleived those things elected a woman as a senator and a jew as the mayor. ?????????????????????????????

Tuesday, June 17, 2003
 
Popping My Cherry

I think there's a blogging rule that once your blog has existed for 2 weeks, you have to fisk someone. But I don't like fisking, and this site has a name god damnit, so its time to pop my cherry. Without further ado, I bring you:

The Collinization of Bill O'Reilly

Bill O'Reilly is apparently a frenchman. Much like the brilliant Socialists of the EU, big ole Billy thinks its unfair that people can write down their thoughts on the internet and share them with other people. Its not fair! They say things about me that I don't like, and they dont let me respond on their website, so my only option is to talk about it on my nationally syndicated television show! But don't take it from me, get it straight from the horse's mouth:

"Sex, lies and videotape on the Internet, that's the subject of this evening's Talking Points Memo. Nearly everyday, there's something written on the Internet about me that's flat out untrue. And I'm not alone. Nearly every famous person in the country's under siege."

Under Siege! My god, this is more serious than I thought! You know its bad when you describe it with titles of b-rate action movies. This free speech going on in the internet is turning into a real Blood Sport! Only the Strong can survive this onslaught of Vigilante Justice! Seriously, all the criticism I get from regular people on the internet is way Over The Top.

Today's example comes from Web sites that picked up a false report from The San Francisco Chronicle that said a San Francisco radio station dropped The Radio Factor. If anyone had bothered to make even one phone call, they would have learned that Westwood One made a deal with another San Francisco radio station, weeks ago to move The Radio Factor. Thus the word "dropped" is obviously inaccurate and dishonest. We'll see if The Chronicle runs a correction, but you can bet you won't be seeing many corrections on the net.

Well gee, Bill, maybe you should be complaining about the inaccuracy of a news corporation, rather than the people who take what is printed by said corporation as fact. It's not Joe 12 pack's fault that the communist chronicle can't get its facts straight. I mean hell, its not like we're talking about the NY times here. How could he have known?

Oh that's right, he should've made a phone call. If you'll just post your phone number in the book(I checked under arrogant prick, and it wasn't there), I'll be happy to call you up and run this stuff by you before I post it on my weblog.
Speaking of dishonest, telling people to make phone calls to check facts when you and your corporation make it impossible to contact you or anyone associated with your shitty television show, sounds a bit hypocritical in retrospect, no?

The reason these net people get away with all kinds of stuff is that they work for no one. They put stuff up with no restraints. This, of course, is dangerous, but it symbolizes what the Internet is becoming.

Wow, Bill. You're a better journalist than I thought. Your material comes pre-parodied! People who don't have restraints on their thought and speech are dangerous! Quick, get the duct tape, these people are forming independent opinions for chrissakes!

In truth, The Chronicle's story [is] small stuff compared to other Internet sins. The child molestation people have now figured out a way to chat about their crimes without being charged with obscenity. And the Supreme Court actually helped these people by ruling that virtual child porn, computerized images of kids being raped, are legal, an extension of free speech.

That's right Bill, censor the internet for "The Children". "The child molestation people", you make it sound like its a hyper-organized lobbyist group. I guess next week you'll be telling us that comedians should be charged with obscenity for making jokes about smoking pot and getting the munchies. Where is that bastard cheech anyway!?!

Virtual child porn? Just what kind of websites have you been visiting, mr. O'Reilly? Maybe Bill saw someone playing the Sims online and got confused about what was going on in the hot tub. Why don't you worry about the real-life children who are getting raped before you save the computer generated images from these atrocities.

So all over the country, we have people posting the most vile stuff imaginable, hiding behind high tech capabilities. Sometimes the violators are punished, but most are not. We have now have teenagers ruining the reputations of their peers in schools on the Internet. Ideologues accusing public officials of the worst things imaginable. And creeps gossiping about celebrities in the crudest of ways.

Ph34r my high-tech capabilities! I wield the mighty sword of blogspot! It's like the national enquirer, only nobody reads it and I don't get paid. Mr. O'Reilly, You have de-railed.

My favorite has to be the "Ideologues accusing public officials of the worst things imaginable". Are you describing the Anti-war protests from last month? Or perhaps the regularly scheduled news programs on the same channel that your show appears? Hypocrite is such a strong word, I better make a phone call and run it by you first.

The Internet has become a sewer of slander and libel, an unpatrolled polluted waterway, where just about anything goes. For example, the guy who raped and murdered a 10-year old in Massachusetts says he got the idea from the NAMBLA Web site that he accessed from the Boston public library. The ACLU's defending NAMBLA in that civil lawsuit.

Slander AND libel, eh? You got one of them new fangled talkie blogs? It's either slander, or its libel. It can't be both. You would think someone like Bill O'Reilly would know this, considering how often he commits both of these crimes, but you would be wrong.

The guy who raped a kid got the idea from the NAMBLA website. I got the idea to jump off a fucking cliff from listening to you talk. Better call the ACLU, because my family will be filing charges immediately. Would that constitute slander or libel, Bill?

Talking Points noted with interest the hue and cry that went up from some quarters about the FCC changing the rules and allowing big corporations to own even more media properties. But big corporations are big targets. If they misbehave, they can be sued for big bucks. These small time hit and run operators on the net, however, can traffic in perversity and falsehoods all day long with impunity. It's almost impossible to rein them in.

Traffic perversity and falsehoods with impunity? Damn, but that's alot of buzz words for just one sentence. Bill, when you traffic something, it means that you are getting paid for it. Like you are trafficking stupidity on your television show. I am giving away stupidity on my web log. I'd explain the difference to you further, but since you can't handle the whole slander vs. libel thing, I would be wasting my breath.

So which is the bigger threat to America? The big companies or the criminals at the computer? Interesting question.

What the fuck just happened here! You took a coherent, if idiotic point, and somehow made it a comparison between the evils of Wal-Mart vs. Richard Pryor in Superman III. No wonder your a professional; not every moron on the street can jump incoherently from one topic to another.

Seriously, Mr. O'Reilly, you should really read this stuff before you go on the air. I hope you fired your brother-in-law's nephew for writing this story for you, as it is truly a piece of shit. But if you don't like what I have to say about it, you can always tell me what you think in my comments section. Now if you'll just go ahead and give out your phone number to the public, there's plenty of us who would like to call you and discuss some thoughts on your recent development of Turret's syndrome. But be careful, the internet travels over phone lines, and it might make you rape small children and bad mouth celebrities! Mix up the cod liver oil and witchbane, and spread it on the phone. That should keep those evil internet spirits at bay.

Old men who are afraid of technology are funny, in a sad kind of way. My great great grandpa said that radio was the devil's work. My great grandpa said that television gives you polio. And ole man Reilly here sez that new fangled internet turns you into one of them queer, child loving folk. Maybe its time to retire, Bill.

 
The Gloves Are Off!

Okay, now its go time. Nobody calls me a Poopyhead and gets away with it!

Virginia: Still getting over the civil war.
Virginia: Because nobody's ever gotten laid in a shithole like this!
Virginia: West Virginia's awkward older brother.
Virginia: No no, thats Georgia you're thinking of.
Virginia: We don't really like Ham, but it keeps the jews out. (I'm going to hell for this one)


New Jersey: Not sorry about Bon Jovi.
New Jersey: The reason New York smells like Urine
New Jersey: All your football teams are belong to us.
New Jersey: A jug-handle at every corner; a toll booth at every jug-handle.
New Jersey: Where acidwash never goes out of style.


And just because im a playerhater:

Connecticut: Largest wasp nest in history.
Connecticut: The C is silent...no, the other c you idiot.
Connecticut: It's the Connecticut Sound, damnit!
Connecticut: Proudly segregating Native Americans.
Connecticut: At least we still have College sports...
 
I Got Yer Jersey Jokes Right Here, Asshole!

Bill at Bloviating Inanities is still having a contest. But now he's takin shots at my commune, err, state, and we can't have that! So hey Bill!

Why are New Yorkers all depressed?

Because the light at the end of the tunnel is Jersey.


Now get back in your swamp, you no left turn making motherfucker.



p.s. New Jersey smells.

Monday, June 16, 2003
 
Wow, He Are Smart

I just popped in at a blog i found about 2 weeks ago in the new blog showcase at the truth laid bear. I didn't go back there cuz I couldn't remember the name of it, but I found it again and I been reading it a while.

All I can say is damn, this dude is smart. I don't always agree with him, but he is a sharp character.

So go read Tiger's Raggin' and Rantin', and see how schtoopit the rest of us are in comparison.


 
Chicks Dig Scars!

Its a longtime theory that I can finally prove as fact.

Number of females to randomly approach me for conversation during the first 22.5 years of my life: 3

Number of females to randomly approach me for conversation during the 4 days I've had a cast on my nose: 16

One of said females came up to me at the bar in Boulder Creek, which one of those annoying steakhouse chains that we go to all the time because they have 2 for 1 beer specials for happy hour. You cant smoke in there because they are a bunch of fascist pigs, but the beer is cheap, the food is good, and they get the YES network. Ignore the muzak versions of shitty country songs in the background, and you have yourself a good time. Muzak versions of country songs are a wonderful thing, because they answer the question of the friends generation "Can this song GET any worse!?!" Why yes, I do beleive it can. Now shut the fuck up and put on The Family Guy; friends is for your girlfriend to watch with her cat.

So I'm there at the bar with a few of my friends, one of whom is my buddy Kevin, who recently had surgery on his foot. So im up there wearing my nose-piece, and he's hobbling around on crutches, we must have looked like the President and CEO of Losers of America sitting at the bar there. So this trampy looking chick is sitting a few stools down, slutting up the place, and she looks over to me and gives me the sad mommy look. "Ooh, what happened to your face?"

Now usually when this happens im rather polite, because I do appreciate the heartfelt sympathy of people. But this nasty thing was just using it as an excuse to talk to the 5 guys at the bar because she wanted the cock(And no, this is not a post that is derogatory to women, because all the women know exactly what girl im talking about here). It turns out she didn't want mine, either, but my friend Dan's, who was next to me, but that's neither here nor there.

So the mark I mean lady asks me what happened to my face, and then started talking to my friend Dan. After a few minutes of conversation, she realized that I had completely ignored her and repeated the question. Having heard her talking to Dan, I realized what exactly I was dealing with, and decided to have a little fun with her.

"What happened to your face?"

"Oh, nothing much. You should see the other guy."
Cue idiot friend 3 stools down, "Yeah, he's not hurt at all!"

"Oh, so you got into a fight then?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

"So you messed the other guy up pretty good?"

"Yeah, well sort of. That guy over there is the other guy." I point to Kevin, with the cast on his foot.

"Oh, you got into a fight with him?"

"Yeah, we beat the shit out of each other pretty good. And then when I was on the ground, he wound up and booted me right in the face. Kicked me so hard it shattered my nose, but that son of a bitch broke his foot, too."

Then I flipped off Kevin for effect. Kevin's a quick one, so he looks over at me and goes,

"What, you want some more of this, bitch!?!"

And he started poking me with one of his crutches.

This poor girl looked like she shit her pants. Her face got all red, she didn't know what to do.

"Calm down boys! You guys are friends again, right!?!"

"Yeah, yeah. Water under the hatchet or some shit like that. Right gimpy?"

Kevin raised his beer glass, and turned away to stifle the laughter.

"So what were you guys fighting about?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh comeon, its good to talk about these things."

"Well, Kevin there thinks that there are only 113 original episodes of Star Trek, and I tried to set the bastard straight and explain to him that there are 114 original star trek episodes, because the pilot is actually a two episode mini-series. But that dumb son of a bitch can't get it through his thick skull!"

"Hey, thats from a south park episode! Comeon, what really happened?"

"What the hell is South Park!?!"

"You guys are weird."

And then she went away, thank fucking god. I told Dan he should buy me a beer for preventing him from getting herpes, but he disagreed. I don't know why, but for some reason its fun to lie to complete strangers. I guess its bad karma like that which caused me to break my face in the first place, but I say fuck karma. That's right karma, your a pussy! Now fetch me a beer!

 
Fair Warning

After reading what happened to Glenn, (hey, a black guy! Ooh, fun!), I think its high time I gave a little heads up.

To any of my co-workers:

If you decide to rat me out about what im doing after i finish my daily work in an attempt to gain favor with the boss, your infidel belly shall burn in the immortal pits of hell for all of eternity. Your entrails shall line the parking garage of doom. I will twist off your head and spike it onto the horns of a nightmare you can't even imagine. In short, if you decide to do this, You are entering a world of pain, smokey. A world of pain.

That is all.

 
Random Thoughts

Here's some random thoughts I had while I wasn't blogging.

Clemens got his 300th win and his 4000th strikeout this weekend. The Yanks are back.

I cant friggin wait till saturday. Saturday is my 23rd birthday. Saturday the mutts play the yankees. My friends are going to the game, and didn't invite me, and its my birthday. They are all cocksuckers. They are also all met fans, so im not surprised i wasn't invited.

Saturday John gets a 2004 subaru impreza. Saturday John is selling a 1990 Nissan 240 sx with 237,000 miles on it. 500 bux, who wants it!?! Not you? Good. Go fuck yourself.

If you are illiterate, then you can't read this.

The U.S. is waging economic war on France, according to the french. Economic war is when two countries sell similar goods competitively with one another. Therefore, Frank J. is waging economic war with most 3rd world nations, by invading the cheaply made t-shirt market. For shame!

My sister has a college degree and is 2 years deep into vetrinary school(veternary school? animal doctor, for chrissakes) She currently gets paid 7 bux an hour to cut rope with a blowtorch, and loves every second of it. Go figure.

I ordered a bologne sandwich in a deli on saturday. Turns out it was a jewish deli. Woops.

If i have to drive on long island for much longer, I am going to commit a homocide driven by road rage. You would think that someone in a new lexus would try to avoid a collision with a 13 year old nissan, but you would be wrong. It is for the good of humanity that I do not own a paintball gun.

Israel has not yet murdered all the Palestinians. Most people think its because they are too noble a people to do something as savage as killing their sworn enemies. I think they are just a bunch of slackers.

My grandfather has never cursed in front of me in my life. On fathers day, i told him i was getting a subaru, and he said "Your gonna buy another car from those god damn slopes?" He fought in wwII in the pacific. He can call them whatever the hell he wants.

I have the same name as a drink. A John Collins is the same as a Tom Collins, but made with whiskey instead of gin. The reason you have never heard of it is because it tastes like shit.




 
Ohhh, so THATS what they were talking about...

I just wrote a longass post that disappeared when I hit the publish button. I guess thats what everyone meant when they said "Be careful writing long posts on blogspot because sometimes they disappear."

I wish you would've been more clear about that!

 
Gimme Some Lip!

A huge thanks again to Bill from Bloviating Inanities, who has been a huge help getting me set up here. Thanks to Bill, there will now be comments, and you can all tell me how stupid I am.

3nj0y.

Sunday, June 15, 2003
 
Contest

Bill over at Bloviating Inanities is having a funnyass contest for state mottos. If you live in a state, you should go enter. If you live in france, you should move or commit suicide. That is all.


 
A Great Day

Today was a great day. I played 18 holes of golf, and I shot a 110. a 110 is absolutely atrocious as far as golfing goes, but its a good score for me. Maybe if I throw enough links to Acidman, he'll give me a few pointers. He says he was quite the golfer in his day.

Anyway, back to my awesome day. Played golf, and went to a great bar called The Fulton Street Pub. This is one of the last real bars around my area; everything inside of it is made of wood, there's a kitchen, a pool table, two dart boards, and 100 tvs everywhere. I went inside, sat down, got a beer, smoked a cigarette, and played quick draw. That's right, I smoked a cigarette indoors in New York state. Nassau county repealed the ban on smoking about a week ago; of course, in a month the state wide smoking ban takes effect, so it was somewhat pointless. I think it will be used as an arguing point that when the ban was revoked, business spiked and then dropped like a rock when it was reinstated, which will inevitably happen. This is very good news. So since they let me smoke, I played a few rounds of quick draw, to throw the government a little tip for making the right decision for once in their lives.



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