Best Book Ever.

So I guess this guy, Herm Edwards wrote an expose of the whaling industry in the 13th century called "Moby Dick".  Oh shit!  Remember writing book reports in 5th Grade and the rules were you had to underline a book title?  I totally just didn't do that.  So Moby Dick is freaking awesome.  I haven't gotten to the end yet, but I'm assuming there will be a whale slaughter of unprecedented awesomeness to cap off what has already been a quite enjoyable read.  I'm at the part now where the guy goes "Call me Ishmael".  Fucking hardcore sweet, right?  I can't wait to see how this ends.

(SEVEN HOURS LATER)

FUCK!   (Spoiler Alert) - The Whale sinks the boat and everyone dies except Ichabod.

Bummer.

Dolphins Sabotaged Travis Barker!

I knew it.  It was only a matter of time before they struck again...  Apparently last night, some dolphin terrorists sabotaged the Lear Jet (I fly Gulfstream, myself) that was set to take former Blink-176 accordionist Travis Barker and iPod press-player DJ AM from SC to CA.  The plane skid across the runway, through a fence, across a road, stopped at a Wendy's drive-in then hit an embankment.  Columbia, SC authorities said that they had seen "long trails of water, discarded crab carcasses and a Flipper DVD" in the hangar that had stored the plane.

My take on it:  Jealous of the success of 1999's "Enema of the State" and the fact that Nicole Richie's vagina is looser than a blowhole, dolphin terrorists spiked the JP-5 with sea water (and judging by the severity of the fire, I'd say they obtained the water from the Persian Gulf - I mean that's basically 94% kerosene anyway) and the engines flamed out, causing a catastrophic occurrence of "gravity + flammable liquid".

Oh - and for those of you tsk-tsking "this is in such bad taste", may I add perspective:

Two rich people flying in a multimillion dollar private greenhouse gas machine are burned.

40+ people died when a car bomb exploded outside the Islamabad Marriot.  40 working people who are not in possession of an aircraft that even leased runs roughly $1,000 per hour MORE than the GDP per Capita of Pakistan ($2,600).

So there.

Princess Di - Rich, killed extravagantly by Dolphins.

JFK Jr. - Rich, killed spectacularly by Dolphins.

Rainer Wolfcastle - Rich, fictional animated character.

If the dolphins keep killing rich people, I might have to change the name of this website.

Oh My Crap!

How can this possibly get worse?  First, they're crippling our economy and causing hurricanes - Oh - I didn't mention that?  Dolphins get together with other like minded fishes and swim in groups upwards of 2 million in giant hundred mile circumference cicles creating a whirlpool that due to the sea mist's interaction with the atmosphere, causes the spiraling effect of the hurricane's cloud pattern.  What a bunch of douches.  And all this time you thought it was a butterfly flapping its wings in China.  Everyone knows the only thing that causes is my ex to blow whoever's walking past her apartment.

Anyway, I divest.  No - wait - I wish I divested.  But I didn't...  So instead of writing this from my Gulfstream IX, I'm only writing it from the back of an S65AMG.  Ooopsy!

Oh - so here's why I said "Oh My Crap!" -

WTC?!??!  Sorry - Meant WTF.  WTC stands for something that I'm supposed to Never Forget (TM) but somehow have.  So the dolphins are either A) sentient extraterrestial beings who really want to communicate with a pink liquid filled Ed Harris or B) in league with Industrial Light Magic and have a kickass FX budget.  I cannot fathom what evil this portends.  Or pretends. Or pretence.  Or pretensioners.  Or the Pretenders.  Or the Predator.  Or the Prenatal Care Unit.  Or Law and Order: SVU.  Or  Survivor Gabon.  Or Zsa Zsa Gabor.  Or Gabbo.  

Dolphin CEOs Will Rape The Nation!

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Walruses - You're On The List, Too

According to that ever reliable and never fabricated English publication The Sun, Walruses in the Tokyo aquarium hold "Jam Sessions".  Unless your name is Miles, Monk or Mingus, you are not allowed to have a jam session.  Inevitably these jam sessions, especially if you're white and suburban begin under the auspices of assembling musically like-minded people for some creative fun and ultimately devolve into five guitarists sitting on a couch with a king size bag of Doritos, a bong and the season two DVDs of Aqua Teen Hunger Force.  I can only assume that since walruses look like the two most whitest people on earth, Jamie Hyneman and Adam Savage that indeed, this jam session will sound like this:

"Man, I really love 'St. Stephen'".

"Me too... pass it this way."

"Giggle".

http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/news/article1687109.ece

Done Broke My Hand

I done broke my word hand Thursday night.  Basically I was walking down the street and there was this gorgeous woman.  Stunning but she seemed to be in distress.  A gang of street thugs were accosting her so I did the right thing - I crossed the street against the light and went into another bar.  

Later that evening though, while taking the water taxi for some reason that may have made sense at the time, it was my turn to be assaulted.  Five or six fucking dolphins leapt from the water on to the deck of the boat.  The beasts were so near I could smell the tuna on their breath.  Scanning the boat, I ascertained that my best option for improvised weaponry would be the inflatable vest to my right.  As I was about to jam the vest down the throat of the dolphin I assumed to be the leader, one of the minions fucking flipper smacked me.  I slid backwards across the deck and arose like an angered sea god from pagan times.  Charging the fish, I double foot kicked the main one a la Eric Cantona while simltaneously throwing the life vest into the maw of one of the others.  After taking a quick bouce to my feet, I pulled the rip cord to self inflate the vest upon which the other one was choking.  He exploded and the concussion cast his compatriots careering into the cay.  

Pretty exciting, huh?

Oh - right - the hand.  While writing the post-action report at the station house (and yes, my dolphin extermination campaign has a station house) I dropped a pencil on the floor and my secretary Janine, while sweet despite the caustic NY accent, rolled over my pinky with a handtruck.

Dolphin Taxi Drivers

As a New Yorker, often you encounter a taxi driver with a less than stellar grasp of the English language.  I'm not saying there's anything wrong with that, I'm just saying it leaves something to be desired.  Actually, I AM saying there's something wrong with that - these dirty immigrants and foreigners are taking jobs that Americans could but do not want to do.  We shouldn't have taxis then.  That's the true American way - if it's too hard or too menial and no one else will do it, then it should never get done.  (That sorta sounded like the opening speech of the A-Team were it written by Camus).  

So the South Asian drivers - yeah, they ain't that good - but the worst by far are the Dolphin drivers.  Allow my to portray a short vignette, a la the Bard.  Not Bard College - that's a bunch of Dykes - almost as bad as Barnard where that slut went.  I mean the Bard like Billy Shakes.  That's how I knew him when I was an Elizabethan noble.  This is like the fourth time I've time traveled in my asides, and for some reason I always end up in an elaborate era of English history.  Crap - am I a closet Anglophile?  I mean, I was an AngloPHILE if you know what I mean until she let other guys' philes into her anglo...  Shit - the short nonsensical play about nothing...  BACK TO ACTION!  

Me: Uh, yeah, 43rd between tenth and eleventh...

Dolphin Cabbie:  (falls out of cab, dies of dessication)

Me: Cool - free Crown Vic / Hybrid Escape / Honda Odyssey

Actually - I guess I sorta like dolphin cabbies.  That was a roundabout way to come to an ultimately simple conclusion.

oh.

that and happy giuliani day!

!

A Momentary Time Out

OK - I support our troops.  I like when they kill things.  It makes me Toby Keith Proud.

Thus I give you:

http://www.cafepress.com/ArmyPoppins

So spread the word!  A real post soon.

(Also this too: http://www.cafepress.com/Nanoo4_Hoth)

My Rage Knows No Bounds!

Except maybe Gina Gershon in Bound.  

So you know who's not off the hook, obvious forthcoming pun notwithstanding?  Manatees.  Too long have they plagued our coastal waterways with their lollygagging, loitering and lethargic lagunal lounging.  Didn't even need a thesaurus for that one - just came fully grown like Athena, straight from the noggin.  Without all the incest and beastiality that was prevalent amongst the Olympians.  Now the Norse - those were some badass raping gods.  

Manatees - right.  The name Manatee by itself is enough to hate them.  It is derived from manati, a Caino Indian word meaning beast that predates Cristobal Colon.  You hear that?  Well, obviously you didn't hear it unless you have some sort of text to speech device - instead you just read it.  In bold.  So that a point has been made.  Beasts are to be exterminated like the Caino were.  With extreme predjudice and racism with a healthy dash of prostelytizing them with the word of the one true God.  Kali-Ma.  

ALL HAIL LORD DARK GODDESS KALI-MA.

(Pulls out stone, puts next to other stone, burns hands, drops stone, cuts rope bridge)

OK - Maybe Kali-Ma wasn't the best bet for a conversion tool.  I know what I'll do.  I'll hook the manatees up to a fake machine that tells you you're stressed so you'll buy books and maybe eventually buy the machine itself.  Man.  What a fucking scam that would be.  It would be like a modern day charlatan - recapturing the ethos of the 19th Century American Tent Revivals where pastor/preacher/con artist would plant people in his audience and "cure" them.  If only I could invent a modern day fake religion where wealthy adherents just showered you with money to learn the next steps of the invented ideology.  What a brilliant idea.  

One problem though - if I do invent a fake machine that tells you what the manatee is feeling and it happens to be electrically powered, I might shock the manatees.  Then I wouldn't know who they're feeling and thus couldn't squeeze them for more money.  But then again, I would have killed several manatees which I guess ultimately is the goal.  So I guess I'll take my fake machine and see if it works on people. 

Sincerely,

Elrond Hubber

dammit - I only hit'em 5 times!

Enemies of Humanity, Part IV: Pamela Anderson

The litany of reasons behind Ms. Baywatch's nomination for the category of outstanding douchery are many.  We can go into so many different facets of Anderson's complex, er, personality but let's start with the first and easiest.

She's a Fucking Canadian.  That's right, the rack that launched a thousand tissues - or that a thousand tissues were launched into - is a Canuck.  A Queeb.  A British Columbian.  A Saskatoonie.  From our soon to be hostile neighbor to the north, the mediocre backwater of Canadia.  Let's go into some stats about Canada that may shock and amuse you.

On a whole, Canadians average one foot shorter in height than Americans.

The Canadian diet consists mostly of dog meat.

In all of Canada, there is only one helicopter and it's owned by the Montreal Canadien hockey team.

The national sport of Canada is Murderball.

These reasons alone would make Pamela Anderson, as the official face - well not "face" per se - more like "cans" - as the official Cans of Canada and no enemy to humanity but noooo.... She has to go and do the unthinkable.  Join PETA.  Even though it stands for "People Eating Tasty Animals", PETA is actually against that (AWESOME) stuff.  And against fur which is so warm and comfy.  And against of course, abusing for fun and profit the maritime mammals.  I'm sure those PETA fucks could care less about the noble Manta Ray or the proud and intelligent and evolutionary stalwart Horseshoe Crab.  "Get on the train", the PETA hypocrites probably shout.  But god forbid a cold blooded click factory like a dolphin gets caught in a net.  If they're so fucking smart, how are they getting caught in nets?  I mean really - when has a net ACTUALLY ever worked on a human.  I'm sure in Roman times, like 200 years ago, when the Gladiators were hanging out back stage or back collesium or whatever and it was time to be issued weapons for the show, all of them were saying "please don't give me the trident and net, please don't give me the trident and net, please don't - FUCK - crap.  There goes my life.  I got the fucking trident and net... what did you end up with Masculinius Crapbeateria?"  "Uh, I got a helmet, a shield, and a sword, comrade Pussilickium Deadonarrivalus.  Did you end up with.... (falls into uncontrollable laughter) - the (pauses to regain breath) the net!?"

That's from actual history written by actual Romans in Hieroglyphics translated from the Rosetta Stone.  The DVDs called Rosetta Stone told me that.  

Back to Pammycakes.  Pamela Anderson was awarded PETA's Linda McCartney award for blah blah blah whatever it might be about.  Now so long as she wasn't awarded the Heather McCartney-Mills award for motorcycle handling skills, she would have a leg to stand on.  

It was really sad when they made Rosetta Stone ride the back of the bus back in the 50s.

09/07/01 - Never Forget

Today is the Seven Year Anniversary of the Day that Shook The World - September 7th, 2001.  Besides the defeat of Saladin by Richard I in the Third Crusade and the world's first submarine attack in New York Harbor in 1776, September 7th will go into the annals of history as a day of tragedy and triumph, evil and good, salty and sweet.  September 7th is the day that I awoke to the terror around us.  Wealthy Saudi Arabian students with enough ennui to want to kill westerners.  Oh - wait.  That was the real terror around us.  Let's get back to the fabricated terror that I far more appreciate.

09/07/01: I was attacked by a dolphin.  It was just your typical suburban kid's post college vacation.  Mid August, I hopped on the the family's Gulfstream to Monaco with a couple of friends.  We had the boat waiting for us because we were going to go to the Greek islands.  A family friend owns a couple of them so we were going to stay in one of the bungalows there.  They're modest little 20,000 square foot places.  Nothing special.  

Before settling in Greece though, we wanted to stop by Tunisia to visit Carthage.  It's quite a bustling city with all the trumpet playing and jeeps overlooking the ampitheaters and all.  (Five Bucks for the first person to get that reference).  Seriously though, Tunisia.  While swimming in the Meditteranean off the coast of Tunisia off of the launch boat, I felt a tugging at my peni - my leg.  I felt a tugging at my leg.  I thought to myself "Self, now why would something be tugging on me when I left the Parisian prostitutes on board the ship?"  I reached down and I felt something silky to the touch, with raw power coursing through it.  After I took my hand out of my pants, I felt a dolphin.  There was a fucking dolphin trying to snout bang me.  Seriously, that fucker was going for the Hershey Highway like Andy Dick at a Chelsea Night Club with Kathy Griffin filming and Tom Cruise behind a two-way mirror watching the action.  

So how do I react?  How would you react?  Do you go Mythbusters on it's ass and punch the nose?  I know - sharks, but since sharks and dolphins are related, maybe it will work.  Do I try to fishhook it's blow hole?  

Right as the dolphin is about to penetrate and take my dignity, I realize - DUH - I never go swimming in Europe without a Russian made Avtomat Podvodnyj Spetsialnyj and wondered why I didn't recall that earlier, that I was in fact swimming with a 10 pound waterproof 5.6mm flechette round assault rifle over my shoulder.  

So I let off a couple rounds, right in the cranial region.  Dolphin problem solved, anal integrity preserved.

So that's why I hate dolphins and that's why 09/07/01 - Never Forget.  

Let's nuke Saudi Arabia.  That would solve a LOT of problems.

I Don't Like These People

So I found a bunch of folks out there in cyberspace who are just so freaking stupid it actually baffles the mind.  Yes.  Baffles are put in your mind due to this group's utter retardation.  Let's just read a small sampling of their rhetoric.

This brutal massacre — the largest scale dolphin kill in the world — goes on for six months of every year. Even more scandalous, members of the international dolphin display industry take advantage of the dolphin slaughter to obtain some few, show-quality dolphins for use in captive dolphin shows and dolphin swim programs.

And the problem is???  I'm sorta not really getting their point.  This is somehow a BAD thing?  BUZZ WHIRR DOES NOT COMPUTE ROBOT.

So here's the link to these pussies: http://www.savejapandolphins.org/educate.php

I mean really?  REALLY?  Just take a read of a couple more of their stances:

The fishermen say they kill the dolphins "quickly and humanely." That's an outright lie. The methods used to kill the dolphins are so savage, it's hard to believe it unless you witness it for yourself. And once you've seen it, the images and sounds of the screaming dolphins never go away. 

What's your problem?  This is perfectly OK.  Nay, replace OK with this is perfectly awesome and should be continued.  They're trying to paint this nightmarish picture of a bloodthirsty slaughter.  Fuck metaphor - I want fucking video of this shit.  I'd be sitting here with a Volcano TacoBell Taco and its liquid hot fire magma sauce, full screen that shit so I could revel in the blood, crank up the surround sound and fucking whip it out and jack off to that shit.  Dude, that would be awesome.  Getting a lil' stiffy right now just thinking about it.

Hello there, Dolphinkind.  We have guns.  We build things.  We can fucking talk for christ's sake.  Hell - we had Christ.  Who'd you have?  Captain Torah?  Captain Torah - that's the guy who founded Judaism, right?  Historical fact: Before founding Judaism, Captain Torah (first name Hannibal) was only 2nd Lieutenant Torah in the Hindu Light Brigade.  He defected to Holland and started his own academy called Anne Frank by a bizarre 5,000 year separated coincidence.  

Any of y'alls hardcore hackers out there?  If so, I implore you to crash the hell out of these ignorant fucks webbysite.  That'll show them to use the internets for evil rather than awesome.

Porn.

Never Hire a Dolphin Drummer

Here we go, folks.  So you and your three friends, right - they're really into Wilco and one buddy is "so totally sure" that he's the next Tweedy.  So you start jamming, having a good time, playing things that sound like Gram Parsons if Gram Parsons had a white noise generator and then BAM - you realize - "Brah, we need a fuckin' drummer, Dude..."  Thus begins the quest of a lifetime for all guitarists:  The Quest For A Decent Drummer drummer drummer drummer

See what I did there?  I used font sizes to make it dramatic.  Classy.  So here's the thing with drummers.  1.  There's not that many of them.  2.  There's even fewer that are good.  I don't care what y'alls say, but Ringo Starr was a fantastic drummer.  Why?  HE KEPT THE BEAT.  That's a drummers job.  Worst drummer ever?  That Fuck Nugget from Dave Matthews Band.   "Hey, you know what this drum kit needs in addition to 94 roto-toms?  How about 4 sets of chimes, 2 gongs, 14 woodblocks and that maraca thing with the metal beads.  Yeah, now we're new age rocking!"  What a douche.  Basically, in hiring a dolphin drummer, you will get a similar result.  A drummer who plays too many notes, probably has a double bass drum, wants to take a solo like his middle name is "Moby Dick" (which is awesome by the way) and always, I MEAN ALWAYS accelerates the tempo.  Carter.  That's his name.  Carter's the fuckhead from Dave Matthews Band (or just "Dave" as the faggots who like that crap call it).  God I wish that guy was a dolphin because I'd harpoon the fuck out of him, post haste.  

There was this dolphin once, a friend of my brothers.  He said "Yo, you gotta hear this new 'Dave' song... it's called 'All Along the Watchtower,'" to which my brother replies "Not only did you miss the Jimi Hendrix version that EVERYBODY knows, you also missed the U2 Rattle and Hum version and COMPLETELY missed the boat on the fact that BOB DYLAN WROTE IT."

Fucking Dolphins.  Fucking retarded.

And they like really bad music.

What the fuck.

To the Residents of New Orleans:

Count your blessings.  Not only did the Hurricane Gustav not destroy your city but it "dampened" (pun) the efforts of the Republicans to have a party.  Now you're probably asking yourself "why are you mocking, sir?  By all accounts, Mr. Dolphin Hater, you seem pretty fucking Republican."  Well, let's go through the checklist:

1. Upholds laws selectively only when not flagrantly breaking it?  CHECK.

2. Blatant disregard for the environment?  DUH.

3. Freaking LOVE FEST for the Military?  HELL FUCKING YEAH MOTHERFUCKERS!

4. A secret family life including pregnancies, affairs (gay or straight), secret drug abuses?  I HAVE TAKEN THIS OPPORTUNITY TO SPEAK TO YOU TO INFORM THE PUBLIC THAT I AM TAKING TIME FROM MY POST TO SPEND WITH MY FAMILY.

Crap - I just subconsciously gave the standard Republican resignation speech.  I guess I am a Republican but in all honesty I thought I was more Republican like the NeoCons or Michigan Militias.  I guess I was wrong.  I guess I'm just a standard run of the mill white Republican.  Crap.  Wanna go to J. Crew then?

Back to the Home of Bush, Reggie Bush.  Gustav didn't really do much except drizzle on N.O., thus squelching my intelligence reports of a massive levy-based dolphin semi-amphibious invasion.  Actually it would just be a nautical invasion pending several million years of evolution to get legs (which won't happen because dolphins were made that way by God and there is no evolution) and probably a plot device involving a well meaning but embarassing college dad played by Eugene Levy.  

Wow that was a long way to go to just work in an American Pie reference.  Please don't let me write train of thought anymore unless we're all confident I'll end up with Naked Lunch... or at least Naked during Lunch with that chick a couple cubicles over.  No - not that one.  She'll sleep with anything.  And I mean ANYTHING.  

(I miss her.)

Yo quiero Taco Bell.

Marriage is I Guess Sorta Cool

So my brother (younger) got married this weekend. It wasn't half bad. Who am I kidding? - it was freaking great. He married a human, which is always good for my cause as we need to perpetuate the species to 1. outbreed the dolphin and 2. outbreed the Palin family. I think they're up to 322 children (legitimate and otherwise). And the Spears' family. 9,878 in that clan.

Furthermore, my brother did his honeymoon right - left immediately at the wedding. And he didn't go to Atlantis resort which allows you to swim with captive dolphins. Which is OK because they're captive and therefore most likely depressed but still bad because people are getting exposed to them and getting the wrong idea that they're gentle and kind and sensitive creatures. Actually, besides my violent anti-dolphin platform of hatred, I can sorta be gentle and kind and sensitive. Thus completely without a girlfriend. Because girls respond to dickery, cockery, assholery and fuckheadery. And probably not to to fabricated words ushered into existence by the addition of "-ery".

The Atlantis resort made it look so appealing - frolicking in the tepid, urine saturated water, eating sanitized meals with sanitized families just like you, all the while keeping 100% isolated from the natives other than the "help". And exotic sea creatures at your beck and call to do your bidding, whatever it might be. It's basically the antithesis of Habitat for Humanity.

Wait a second. I hate hippies and Carter-type crap like Habitat for Humanity. By that logic, Atlantis resort is Awesome. I'm booking a trip right now. And I'm bringing a toaster and a 40' extension cord to electromocute some dolphins.