Is it possible that John Ashcroft emerged from his slimey cocoon of a body some time near the end of his term newly evolved into a latino with an intense hatred of porn? Could this be his metamorphisis?

[NPR : Federal Government Renews Effort to Curb Porn] Call my mind blown. Right wing whacko Alberto Gonzalez (hand picked by one George W Bush) wants to regulate what we watch in the privacy of our own homes. He says porn is obscene and has ordered the FBI to create Porn Squads to nip pornography in the bud. I’m waiting for the day they create a taskforce to ensure that all men sit down to urinate. That will be money well spent, now won’t it? No droplets on the porcelain: Fuhrer Gonzalez demands it. We all know a clean toilet would be much better than, say, preventing terrorism in our country.

I find it so ironic that these same people who so readily take freedoms away are the same who ask that war is waged in the name of freedom. I thought these kind of moral laws were a thing of the past. I thought we had matured as a country since the days of alcohol prohibition, the banning of the feared Devil Juice. Who are these sad bastards that are spinning our wheel of progress backwards? I suppose the real question is, how is some lonely man watching Jenna Jameson diddle her twat going to effect any one else in such a manner that the government is forced to step in? He’s not taking a life here, he is not stealing someone’s posessions, he is cranking one out to a woman who is gladly displaying her vagina like a dinner table centerpiece. These are two consenting people enjoying themselves and it effects no one else, except for these uptight religious pricks who choose to involve themselves in it.

Comedies like American Pie, 40 Year Old Virgin, or The Aristrocrats, where sex and/or vulgarity nearly compose the entire movie seem like prime targets for someone who feels that the public should be protected from itself. It sounds like the next logical step past pornography. And where exactly do you draw the line with “obscenity”? You may keep your freedom of speech until your speech is found distasteful to a handful of ears. Isn’t that what we’re hearing?

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New Elliott Smith tracks

September 22, 2005

Call me a happy man, for tonight when I’m rolling about my room in a drunken misery of sorts, I will have new Elliott Smith songs to listen to. It’s depressing enough when one of your favorite musician dies, but even more so once you find that you’ve exhausted all of his work. You’re left scrambling for whatever outtakes or bootlegs you can find… anything that you might not have heard before. Usually you end up with some low quality recording from some live set, and you are forced to accept it gratefully.

I had no idea Elliott Smith did any studio recordings of these two particular songs and that was a really pleasant surprise. The songs are off of some movie soundtrack called Thumbsucker and both are covers – “Thirteen” by Big Star and “Trouble” by Cat Stevens. Trouble is probably my favorite Cat Stevens song, so when I heard that Elliott covered it I nearly pissed myself. Both songs are great, as expected. I also read that he did a cover of Hey Jude. I need to get my hands on that, if it exists.

Now if Elliott could put out another 5 albums like Tupac Shakur…

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1976 GMC Vandura Lark

September 17, 2005

DRIVES GREAT!!

My blood boils when I see an auction like this reach 17 hours left with only $1,600 down.

I imagine it as my first “car.” When I flee to Mexico, it will shield me, but it will also serve as a transportation device to and from Publix for beer. I would cry joyful tears if this were my first vehicle, with its 70’s oven and its “KIDS BED ABOVE THE KITCHEN TABLE OR JUST A NICE STORAGE AREA.” I would sob and thank the gods if I could only afford it.

Alas, I won’t be going to Mexico or even Publix to get my beer, not without walking 4 miles across interstate 85; the life vein/sewage pipe of this fair city.

I don’t like traversing this city at a high speed, when it is a blur, let alone at a steady pace where I can devour it as a whole. That would cause me to vomit. Continuously. I’ve done it plenty and have exhausted my inner resources. I rely only on the mercy of others for my transportation, and that’s how it’ll be…for now.

Windows Vista

September 15, 2005

Anybody remember the movie Hackers? You know, that movie with Angelina Jolie’s boobs? It also had Lord Nikon and that Cookie Monster virus. Remember what it looked like to hack into the “Gibson”? There were these huge, green, glowing 3D highrise-like “data folders” that would blink when accessed. It was beautiful, if you were a 12 year old geek. At that impressionable age, the sound of the keyboard being tapped, Angelina Jolie’s boobs, and those 3D images made me want to be a hacker…so long as I could careen through digital streets that would require little to no coding know-how (who the hell would want to do that?) Needless to say, to this day my computer knowledge does not extend past building a webpage or finding porn, music, or movies. I’m quite comfortable with that.

Anyway, Windows Vista looks like they’re headed in that direction. The direction where everything looks fucking cool, the Hackers direction, except it is user friendly and… without hacking. It looks awesome, at least to a nerd like myself.

Look at this, for example.

windows-vista-large.jpg

There’s more images and a review of the beta here.

Today Bush graduates from pee-pee dance to pee-pee notes. I’m willing to bet this is the only relevant note he made at the summit, aside from the doodles of elephants and giraffes playing frisbee.

bathroombush.gif

Fantastic how he ends it with a question mark, like he needs Condoleeza’s reassurance.

Man, I’m bored. This U.N. sure is complicated. I wonder what the fish are up to down in Crawford.
Then comes an awkward shift in the seat, a flexing of the buttocks. A rumble in the colon. A heightened pulse, sweating, biting of the lip. If I have another accident, Condi will get angry. I better ask her. She’ll know what to do.

George then scribbles a note to momma Condoleeza, who in turn notifies the Secret Service so that they can escort him to the bathroom and make sure he doesn’t choke on any random objects he might pick up on his way there. “Make sure he washes his hands this time. And no playing with the dryer, George! Guys – if you leave him there he’ll be pushing that button for days!”

The first note, which was interrupted with daydreams of playful animals and had to be discarded:

giraffe-frisbee.jpg

God has spoken to me

September 13, 2005

I found God’s chatroom yesterday. Go have a talk with him. He won’t bite.
[Speak with thy creator]

Here are a few whacky excerpts from our chatting.

God on the Matrix and agnosticism

Me:
Because I just told you that I’m agnostic
God:
Interesting explanation. Perhaps one day you will find Faith in God.
Me:
I believe in what I see
God:
What do you say to people who believe what you see does not exist?
Me:
That sounds like some nerdy Matrix bullshit
God:
It sounds like it to me too.

God doesn’t mind getting intimate

God:
Our thoughts are one,.
Me:
I want to become one with you. Physically. Intimately. Can it be done?
God:
I don’t see the difficulty. What time is it there? Are you usually awake at this hour?
Me:
Yeah, I mean, if you wanted to come by tomorrow around 6 to get intimate, I’m good
God:
Oh. I think I do.
Me:
Right on 😉

God is impressed with my beer purchase

Me:
Do you like beer?
God:
Yes I like it, especially Japanese beer.
Me:
I like beer too.
God:
I am glad we have something ( beer) in common. I’m not sure if I like it. Yes I like it, especially Japanese beer.
Me:
You weren’t so sure, though.
God:
Oh. I wasn’t?
Me:
God has alzheimer’s
God:
I am a Christian.
Me:
That explains a lot.
God:
Tell me more about your 18 for 7 bucks.
Me:
I got an 18 pack of beer for 7 dollars
God:
Wow, that is cheap

God begs for money, but wants to know if I have any contagious diseases before I give it to him

Me:
Thanks, God. You’re cool. Want a beer?
God:
You are quite welcome! GOD rules. Thanks I think you are cool too, Drew. No thanks but you can send me a donation.
Me:
I don’t have much money to spare
God:
Please send me a small donation.
Me:
How much?
God:
How much can you spare?
Me:
one dollar
God:
One what?
Me:
dollar
God:
Do you have any conditions I should know about?

Masturbation makes God feel uncomfortable

Me:
Do you like vaginas? Toolin’ around with the lips
God:
Some people like it. I like Anything involving harps.
Me:
you like harps and vaginas. nice combo
God:
I do like music. I have a stimulating relationship with Myself. Thank you for your kindness.
Me:
I stimulate myself every night. Some times while listening to music!
God:
Good point.
Me:
Yeah, we should all stimulate often
God:
Blimey. I’m not sure if I am ready for that yet.
Me:
We’re all ready for masturbation
God:
Do you think I am ready for masturbation too?
Me:
I think so. I think you could handle masturbation
God:
I think so too. Me? I could but let’s get back to that later.
Me:
Ok, enough masturbation talk
God:
OK let’s stop it now. Yay.

Return of the Love Bugs

September 12, 2005

I have previously lamented the fall invasion of the Plecia nearctica Hardy, or “love bug,” or “march fly,” or “two bugs fucking.” Well, it turns out last year’s affair was a relatively quiet one in comparison to the raucous party these beasts are throwing this time around. They’re having huge orgies on my porch; they’re pressed against the doors, these little fornicators, and it is impossible to avoid them. Walking into my back yard at this point means that I will be pulled into their den of ill repute, and so I refuse to do so. Not only that, but vehicles in the area are being splattered with their love juices, which apparently ruins paint jobs:

Wikipedia says,
Its character as a public nuisance is due not to its bite or sting (as it is not capable of either) but to its apparently highly acidic body chemistry. Because airborne mating love bugs are drawn in enormous numbers to roadways, they die in enormous numbers on automobile windshields, hoods, and radiator grills. If left for more than an hour or two, the remains become dried and extremely difficult to remove, and their acidity pits and etches the paint and chrome. Scrubbing deceased love bugs off the front of one’s car immediately after the evening rush hour is a twice-yearly ritual for commuters in the Gulf South.

These things are a menace. They have no natural predator to attack them except my self, so I hereby petition the United States government to create an animal or insect that awakens once a year to feed off of love bugs. Once it has finished devouring these disgusting insects, it will return to its den to continue hibernation. This animal or insect should be unleashed upon the southern Gulf region, and we shall cross our fingers and hope that it does not mutate into some sort of flesh devourering monster in the years to come. Even then, so long as it is attacking love bugs as well as humans, I think I will remain appreciative.