"Drinking & Exercising" or "The Perfect T Repellent"

So a buddy of mine just called me to see if I want to hang out this weekend. Normally I would be down for anything as long as the GLW is on board and as she's friends with his Wife I was optimistic.

I was even more optimistic when he informed me that some mutual friends were hosting a century club at a gym they own. After hours aggressive drinking at an unusual location? 9 times out of 10 I'm in. (For those of you unfamiliar with the fratastic: century club is a drinking game where all participants consumes one shot of beer a minute for 100 minutes.)

I should have paid more attention to the location: a gym.

Apparently good old fashioned irresponsible inebriation is not enough fun for these whack-jobs; they had to throw in a twist. Not only are they going to drink a shot of beer a minute for 100 minutes they are also planning to attempt one pull up a minute for 100 minutes.

Fuck. That.

Seriously I can not think of a more effective way to make certain I will not attend a social function, or any function for that matter, than making pull ups a mandatory aspect of attendance.
To be clear: I hate pull ups. I more than did my share of them in the Marine Corps and you can bet your last dollar I will never, ever, participate in anything that involves mandatory pull ups in a large group again. Gosh Darn 90% of the reason I left the Marine Corps after 8 years of faithful service (I have the certificate to prove it) is that I am fucking sick of fucking pull ups.
Push Ups? Fine.
Sit Ups? OK
A fucking Half-Marathon? Give me a beer at the end and I'm in.
Pull ups, Chin ups or any variant there of? Fuck yourselves and go die in a fire.

Sons of Bitches. Fucking pull ups, what were they thinking?
-T

"Pervert in a Prius" or "The Ultimate Awareness Aid"

http://www.thisislincolnshire.co.uk/news/Driver-caught-pleasuring-wheel-faces-jail-sentence/article-2405643-detail/article.html
Driver showed women his penis and pleasured himself while travelling at 55mph

Glenn Flello.
A MASTURBATING motorist who drove alongside a woman driver on the A46 is facing jail.
In addition to distressing the motorist on the A46 south of Lincoln, Glenn Flello, 28, also deliberately pleasured himself in front of four teenage girls on three occasions while driving in the Market Rasen area.
Yesterday at Lincoln Magistrates' Court, he pleaded guilty to four charges of intentionally exposing his genitals.
Prosecuting, Marie Stace said Flello's lewd behaviour on the A46 took place between Winthorpe roundabout near Newark and Swinderby roundabout at around 5.50pm on March 18.

Reading from the victim's police statement, Miss Stace told the court: "I was travelling at approximately 55 miles per hour when the male raised his bottom from the driver's seat and had his hands around his erect penis.
"He was looking at me and it shook me up and made me angry.
"He beeped his horn constantly and I also had the sensation that his car was edging closer to me and he was still carrying out the same actions as before.
"I was not only disgusted because he was grinning right at me but I did not know he had control of his vehicle."

"I heard a beeping and a man flashing," Miss Stace read from the girl's witness statement.
"I saw he had his left hand on his penis and his right hand on the wheel."
On December 11, two teenage girls were walking along Caistor Road in Market Rasen at around 6pm.
They reported that they saw a man masturbating in his car.
"His penis was quite big and erect and I felt sick and shook up," Miss Stace read from one of the girl's witness statements.

Really dude? Wait till you get home. You've got to marvel at this guy's thought process though. One day he was probably driving along minding his own buisness and suddenly his pants got a little shorter. No real reason, sometimes that thing has a mind of its' own. Maybe he gave it a smack; you know "Act right You Bastard I'm driving" sort of thing.
Maybe he enjoyed it a little more than he intended. Maybe nobody noticed.
Suddenly dude is on a slippery slope and things got out of hand (or in hand whatever)

Point is no one, I don't care how sick or depraved, wakes up one morning and intentionally sets out to wax weasel in mid-morning traffic. Maybe I'm being naive but I just can't see it. There has to be something we're not hearing here. There just have to be some mitigating circumstances.
The only excuse for pounding the porpise while driving I can think of is if you're on a really long drive and you feel like you're going to fall asleep. Not just drowsy I mean passing out at the wheel status.
You know why?
The one thing no guy has ever fallen asleep doing: shimmying the salami.
Scientific Fact.

So ladies ask yourself: would you rather Glenn here fell asleep at the wheel, swerved into oncoming traffic and killed 48 schoolchildren on there way to adopt puppies? Or would you rather he take the law, among other things, into his own hands in the interest of public saftey?
Remember if those schoolchildren don't get to the pound all of those puppies are going to be put down as they are suffering from emotional neglect and it would be the only humane thing to do.

So what's your choice? That's what I thought.

On a more serious note did it sound like the woman who gave the last statement was kind of in to it? Sick and shook up huh? More like hot and bothered!

Just kidding of couse, on all of this. Except for the staying awake thing it's quite a "handy trick" if you're on a "long haul".
-T

Potential-e-Wasted does not advocate public masturbation. Unless in circumstances previously okayed by Penthouse Forum.

Posts are coming.

I know I'm not good enough to tease you with a trailer post like this but whatever. It's not like I'm getting paid for this shit.

Anyway, no story short I've been busy and lazy and bored (no those are not in any way contradictory) and that unholy trifecta has kept me from spilling my nonsense garbage into your web browsers. Pathetic excuse for an excuse I know but no more!

I refuse to be mastered by my ennui! It is a silly French word that I want nothing to do with so as soon as I think of something half worth writing about I'm going to be all over it. There's plenty of shit going on in the world right now that I find sufficiently disgusting/ outrageous for me to rant about.

I'll give you something interesting tomorrow. Or I wont.

But I will.

Bate your Breath Bitches, Bate your Breath.
-T

"Wisdom" or "The Ancient Japanese Art of Post-Fail"

Haikus are easy

But sometimes they don't make sense

Refrigerator.

"Muse is Freakin' Awesome" or "The Law of T-Shirt Relativity and Oher Life Lessons"

So, The GLW and I attended the Muse & Silversun Pickups concert last night and while the show itself was fantastic the performance of many of the concert goers left a lot to be desired.

Of course I am speaking of the douche-tastic attendees who think it's really cool to go to a concert, purchase a t-shirt and then change into said t-shirt for the duration of the concert. Lame.

Seriously do they think anyone cares that they bought a fucking T-shirt? Why did they change into it? I cant think of a single good reason to change clothes at the Oracle Arena. Unless of course they spilled a 12 dollar beer all over their American Apparel V-neck.

This issue falls under a little rule I like to refer to as the law of T-shirt space-time relativity. That is: the further you get in both space and time from the purchase of item of band (or place) related paraphernalia the cooler it gets. I'll give you an example: 2 years ago when I was in Prague I purchased a Praha Drinking Team shirt. Anyone who has ever been to Prague knows exactly what I am talking about. The shirts have a picture of the Czech flag emblazoned with an artists rendering of a mug of frothy Beer, framed by the script "Praha Drinking Team". After purchasing the shirt I immediately stowed it in my suitcase knowing that the further I got, in both space and time, from my purchase of that shirt the cooler it would become. Two years later on the other side of the fucking world? That shirt is dynamite.
This rule applies to sports teams, cities and yes, even bands. So the 19 year old alt rock enthusiast hurriedly changing clothes 10 feet away from the souvenir kiosk at Oracle five minutes after purchasing his shirt and surrounded by his pretentious posse who bought and are also wearing said shirt?
You just paid 30 dollars to look like a flaccid dong. Or even worse, an unremarkable flaccid dong in a sea of flaccid dongs.
The only people worse are the jackasses wearing the opening band's shirts and looking all superior and shit because they think it means they have more refined tastes, telling anyone who'll listen that they "actually enjoyed the opening band better, cause it was more about the music..." Fuck, that pisses me off, I can just picture them now, closing their eyes as they rhapsodize the merits of local music and tofu. Bleh. You dick heads are at the Oracle Fucking Arena not some hole in the wall jazz club. Go fuck yourselves.
I just can't see the logic behind it.
In any case it has made me want to design a T-shirt, strictly for concert attendance, It would read "Don't be a Douche, put you're Tshirt on at home."
So there, T's back handing out life lessons from atop my pillar of un-impugnable perfection, I'll try to post more frequently.
-T

PS Since when does a McDonald's with a 24hr drive through stop accepting Credit Cards at Midnight? BULLSHIT, lazy ass fast-food workers just didn't want to make me a fucking Cheeseburger. That shit sucks and it's not like you can complain, those crack-heads would just take a dump in my Diet-Coke or something.

"KGB KGB" or "Indignant Texting, A How To Guide"

For those of you unfamiliar with the service KGB is a text message research service that reports to be able to answer any question quickly and truthfully. Why anyone would think this business model was laudable (or even practical) in an age when anybody who can send a text message can also access the Internet is beyond me, but whatever. The fact that I have used the service several times, always while intoxicated, proves that there is some merit to the idea.

You'll notice I say that all of my correspondence with KGB has been inebriated, this has led to some chuckle worthy interactions with the service and my arguing every answer they have ever given me. Their answers have never satisfied me and have led to my supposition that in reality KGB is just some dude with a cellphone and the Internets surfing wikipedia.
For Example on last Fridays winter Olympics opening ceremonies in Vancouver:

ME: What time (PST) will the Olympic Torch be lit at the 2010 Winter Olympics?

KGB: Torch Relay began in Athens Greece on October 30 2009 and will arrive in Vancouver British Columbia; February 12 2010; for the opening celebration day.

First of all all let me state that I know that this was an impossible question, akin to asking what the final score of a game will be while the game is in process. There was literally some dude running with a torch and they couldn't be sure exactly what time he would get there. I was just looking for a ball park guess. The damn opening ceremonies were fucking 4 and 1/2 hours long and, with the exception of the lighting effects, asinine and boring. I was hoping for a light at the end of the tunnel. What I received from KGB was akin to a middle schooler's attempt at a pop quiz question they didn't expect. They were just hoping that if they told me enough information related to the data I requested then I would give them some fucking extra-credit or something. Instead of telling me I was an asshole for asking an impossible question or even just providing me with a simple "I don't know, who do you think I am Doc Brown?" They sent me back all of the periphery information they could, brutally abused two poor, innocent semi-colons and left me more than a little ticked off.
To Summarize: I didn't ask where and when it left from, where it would arrive or on what fucking date it would arrive. Did these assholes really think I would pay them for that tripe? I asked them on February 12th so obviously I was watching the opening ceremonies (and by the way wasn't it lit after midnight on the 13th?). It's like they were hoping that if they buried me with enough superfluous bullshit I'd just accept it and pay the charge. Needless to say I responded:

ME: I asked for a time not a date; don't charge me for a nonanswer. (sic)
(just to be a dick a used a semi-colon as god intended, to join two sentences.)

KGB: We apologise you will not be charged for this message. One free credit has been added.

Bitches - even their apologies are ambiguous. Does that mean I was was charged for the first message? If so then I declare shenanigans. I still have a free credit though. Any thoughts on what my question should be?
-T

"BJ Banking" or "Writing is Easier When Other People Do It For You"

Sorry the posts have been so sparse recently but it's not like I'm getting paid for this so what did you expect? Seriously.
I've got a ton of topics coming up so expect a post a day for the next week but I wanted to kick off this smorgasbord of delicious diction with a guest spot, the first in Potential-E-Wasted's short history. I know you were all expecting to here from DoJ but apparently he has decided that the most appropriate forum for his writing is Facebook (Seriously, dude writes paragraphs in his status updates, maybe it's sour grapes but I hate that shit) so instead I bring you the misogynistic musings of Mr. Todd.
My friend D on Shallowhags has repeatedly spoken from the view that happy and contended people make boring bloggers and Mr. Todd proves this point. Kid is just f-ing angry, half of the time I don't think he even knows why, It sure makes for some interesting reading though. With out further ado Here's Mr. Todd to kick off the week.


Relationships are all about compromise.

You have to learn each other’s boundaries, when it’s (in)appropriate to cross them, and that you have to give a little in order to get a lot. And when it’s someone that you truly care about, the simple act of giving can be its own reward in and of itself. All non-sociopaths understand this (unless they are true genius sociopaths in which case they may learn to imitate normal human behavior in order to carry out their nefarious plots). (Ed: Shit, he's on to me)
With regards to relationships, I am a giver. To be honest, being a giver is something that I enjoy without expectation. It can be its own prize. That does not mean, however, that this squirrel doesn’t like to get his nut from time to time. I am speaking of course about blow-jobs. (Ed: Of course.)
When a man does his best to please a woman day-in day-out (and does it well I might add), where does all that pleasure go? (Ed: Good Question)
I’ll tell you where it should go: the Blow-Job Bank. Every time a man goes out of his way to make sure that his woman is satisfied and demonstrates he’s willing to go that extra mile, he’s making a donation to the Blow-Job Bank’s 401k plan.
Women would do well to keep track of the savings in the Blow-Job Bank, as her man may wish to dip into them from time to time. For example, it is only fair that, when a woman is unable to receive sexual favors say during a certain disturbing time of the month, she order the cockmeat sandwich. (Ed: The best way I can think of avoiding a blow job would be by referring to it as a cockmeat sandwich)
Just because she’s bleeding all over the furniture doesn’t mean that we both need to suffer. As far as I’m concerned menstruation is myth created by Nazi-feminists to prevent us from blowing loads. The day that my dick starts to bleed, I vow to go down on her for hours. Fair is fair.Until that day, however, we men should be entitled to withdraw from the Blow-Job Bank at will. Unless of course, she prefers the butt.
-Mr. Todd

Potential-E-Wasted would like to remind all of our readers that the opinions expressed by our guest columnists are their opinions alone, and in no way represent the position of this blog or its' staff. Unless of course your really do prefer the butt. Then we (and our staff) are down.

-T

"A Failure of the English Language" or "The Lexicon of Gluttony"

An interesting gap in our native tongue (or at least my native tongue, I have a reader in Sweden YAY!) occurred to me last night:

When you want food you describe your condition as hungry.
As in "Woman fetch me a sandwich, for I am HUNGRY"

When you want a beverage you describe your condition as thirsty.
As in "Woman fetch me a beer, for I am THIRSTY"

But what about when you want to smoke?
As in "Woman pack me a bowl( of perfectly legal pipe tobacco, of course), for I am ________"

I am "naturally aspirated"? I am "well oxygenated"? I am "toxin-free"? A friend suggested that a good word would be "fiending" but that sounds to much like you're chasing the dragon.

As in "Woman fill my hypodermic needle, for I am FIENDING"

I propose the adjective for smoking should be both familiar and unoffensive yet reminiscent of the act which you wish to preform. I propose "LUNGRY".

Woman pack me a bowl, for I am LUNGRY.

Nice.

Let me know what you think.
-T

PS None of the above requests would get me anywhere in my house. The GLW does not respond well to misogynistic demands but it does me good to believe that somewhere (or at least at sometime) a man can get a sandwich/beer/bowl/needle full of opiate with such an archaic display of machismo. Have a great weekend!

"Who Dat Say Dey Gonna Beat Dem Dere Saints" or "You Heard it Here 168th"

You heard it here first, The Saints are going to win their first Super Bowl two weeks from now in Miami. I have absolutely nothing to back that up, nor the energy to craft some long winded justification in picking the 4 point Vegas-Line underdogs.

I Just feel it in my gut and as the GLW made delicious pulled pork sliders for the games yesterday and I may have over indulged, my gut is unusually insistent right now. I'm afraid that ignoring my gut under these circumstances could lead to a messy disaster. I just cant take that risk.

-T

PS. sorry for the lack of posts for the last few days. I am convinced my house is filled with mold spores that are trying to kill me and while my epic battle with these airborne adversaries will make great blog fodder it is also making me sick as hell, hence my creative output is suffering. It is a sad irony that participating in events worthy of exposition deprives one of the energy needed to craft worthwhile prose. Bleh. I need a biographer.

"I Can Do What I Want, but I Can't Do it Now." or "I am Easily Influenced by the Books I read"

I know this is not a pipe, it is a picture of a pipe, but that doesn't change the following fact:

I want a Pipe.

The obvious response to this statement would be "Well then go get a pipe."

Ah, if only it were that simple. You see the GLW does not want me to get a pipe and abhors any form of tobacco use whatsoever, academically I agree with her but practically...

To preface this I should say that I have been battling a minor smoking habit (read nicotine addiction) for the better part of the last two years. Sometimes successfully sometimes not. The unsuccessful periods due in large part to Nicotine's good friend Alcohol. That is not to say I've only been smoking for the last 2 years, no far from it. I smoked intermittently during the latter years of High School, stepped it up a bit during my time in the Marine Corps and fratastically increased my smoking while at university.

At least while I was smoking in the Marine Corps I had a fairly legit excuse. Don't get me wrong I loved my time in the Corps, but the fact of the matter is that Military life consists primarily of two things: "Hurry up and Wait" (Long periods of inaction punctuated by brief, intense movement) and mundane, but taxing, physical labor. Both are highly conducive to developing a smoking habit, the former in an obvious manner, the latter not so much. In the case of the latter perhaps some explanation is in order. Picture this scenario: you are building a seemingly endless sandbag wall in some unnamed and arid environs. You are exhausted but daren't ask the NCO in charge to go stand under yonder shady tree for five minutes. Your fellow Devil Dog goes up to the Sergeant and asks for a smoke break and low and behold your fearless leader acquiesces. Now what do you do? Do you keep toiling in the sun like a fool? No. You go have a damn Cigarette.

As to my smoking in college: I was drunk all of the time. Enough Said.

I digress, as to my smoking now: The GLW has agreed that I can get a pipe when I'm thirty provided I've packed in the stogies and it's only for occasional use. Enter Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Sherlock Holmes smokes a pipe (and cigarettes and cigars and injects Cocaine, but that's besides the point) and he solves mysteries AND he's a national Hero. I of course feel the deep an inexorable need to emulate my literary man-crush and thus I want a pipe now.

There's something incredibly enchanting, even more so in this blustery weather, about pensively puffing on a pipe while pondering life's great questions. Rolling my thoughts around in my head as I roll the smoke around in my mouth, gazing furtively in to the great beyond and blowing smoke in fate's face. I've waxed poetic enough I think, but to the case at hand my recent reading of The Complete Sherlock Holmes has provoked me to repeatedly drop hints reminding the GLW of her promise to let me buy a pipe (and presumably tobacco) in the coming decade. These comments she's dodged nimbly or blatantly ignored until I cornered her yesterday. To whit her response "You can do whatever you want!" in the blink of an eye several thoughts flashed across her face "You just cant do it Now!"

I'm scared, I don't know exactly what that means, but I'm pretty sure it's a trap. I'm going to apply Mr. Holmes' vaunted method of deductive reasoning to puzzle this one out and get back to you. Until then I may be stuck with post-modern pictures of pipes.

-T

"Rain, Rain Go Away" or "DoJ Needs to Hurry the Hell Up With Those Stories"

It is seriously pissing down here in the beautiful Napa Valley (or rather the soggy Napa Valley). The last time it rained as hard with a comparable amount of rain forecast in the near future this happened:
Coupled with the fact that 2009 was a very dry year we may have a serious problem on our hands. If the ground is to dry and compacted it can't absorb enough of the rain and when you live at the bottom of the biggest water shed for miles in any direction that can cause serious problems. We're talking millions and millions of dollars in property damage and crops lost. Not good in a struggling economy.
Still though there is a very dark and evil part of my psyche that would like to be forced to stay home for days on end through no fault of my own. Ha! no I take that back immediately, now if it floods I'll feel guilty and any exercises in blameless sloth would be ruined.

I need to learn to keep my big mouth shut, but seriously one of the problems of living in a veritable paradise is that our local infrastructure is not prepared for any sort of inclimate weather. Case in point: about two months ago we had a stiff breeze and lost power in a good portion of Napa. We may have 355 days of perfect weather but for the other ten we are completely fucked; the river overflows, power lines fall over, trees crash into houses and across major roads and our local government is completely helpless to do anything about it.
I lament the state of the roads or sidewalks at the best of times but in the rain they're a downright liability.
It's the wages of sin I suppose, but I can't help but feel like a place with so much money flowing through it would be a little better equipped to deal with the normal cycles of nature. Don't give me any crap about this being do to with El Nino either, even if it is, that body of warm water IS part of the normal system of nature, it's a regular as fucking clockwork and we're always unprepared to deal with it? Bullshit.
- T
p.s. I don't really want it to flood, I wouldn't want to get my XBOX wet.

p.p.s Sorry for the lame post about the weather, but DoJ is taking his sweet time with those stories and I couldn't think of anything else to rant about.

"Rough Weekend" or "How to Fake a Moral Victory"

The Jets win and Avatar wins a Golden Globe? WTF!?! On top of that it's rainy as shit and I don't get MLK day off. All in all I'd say this is a craptastic start to the week. On the up side however the Saints and Indy both won and let's face it those are the two teams that really deserve to be in the Superbowl anyway. Can you imagine a Jets/ Vikings Superbowl? Would anyone watch? I think not.

Another Tally in the win column comes from Robert Downey Jr. winning best Actor in a comedy. I don't know though, that was kind of a back handed compliment, I mean was Sherlock Holmes a comedy? That's probably why Guy Ritchie didn't show up to the ceremony. The GLW and I did a little Golden Globe pool last night (As recompense for me monopolizing the TV with the Playoffs all weekend) and boy did she kick my ass. Seriously she picked practically every winner. I'm talking "best female understudy in a cinema verite special" boom she'd have it. At first I was taking it as a point of pride, chiding her for reading to much US weekly while I read other fare like, I don't know, books or something. After a while though it got kind of grating, nobody likes to be shut out right? I don't care what the competition is. Then came my saving graces, Mr. Downey and Das weisse bande (the German winner of best foreign film).
As Sherlock Holmes was one of my favorite films of 09 and Das Weisse Bande is in a foreign language, and thus obviously more intellectual, I immediately declared a moral victory and retired to the game room to play Call of Duty 2. You can't say I'm not gracious in my triumphs.
- T
p.s. On a more exciting note my good friend DoJ will be contributing a few tales of his recent drunken exploits in the big city. Wait with bated breath.

Potential -E- Wasted is taking on some contributors!

We are now publishing TeamBlackout Archival stories and rants. With any luck this could become the TB homepage, with yours truly as moderator of course.
-T

"NFL Divisional Playoffs T's Picks" or "How not to Bet"

Chargers vs Jets - Pick: Chargers

As a Raiders fan I am loathe to pick the Chargers to win anything, but to be honest this year they have been fairly innocuous and reasonably fun to watch. Honestly though I am making this choice based on my absolute loathing of the NY Jets. No team has annoyed me as consistently as Rex's rejects and quite frankly a really wish Rex Ryan would just go away. It's really troubling to me that this blubbering Jaba the Hutt is trying to take credit for any of the Jets' success given that he wrote his own team off after their loss to the Falcons. If there is anything that annoys me more than a greasy fat guy it's a greasy fat guy crying. This ass hat has oscillated from bombastic and unintelligible arrogance to whimpering self pity and I have no time for him. He reminds me of nothing so much as a fickle front runner. That an Asshat like Ryan can coach an NFL team much less a team IN THE PLAYOFFS troubles me. I want him to go away and I think the Chargers are the team to do the job.

Indy Vs Baltimore - Pick: Indy

Ray Lewis and the Baltimore D's hypocrisy when it comes to the Brady rule astounds me, so again I am making my pick "Ad Hominem"or Rather "Ad Defensor". Plus say what you will about the Colts Peyton is unstoppable when he's on his game and I don't think the Baltimore DBs can handle Indy's receiving corps. I'm looking for a blowout here.

Minnesota Vs Dallas - Pick: Dallas

I don't think the extra rest is going to help Farve enough to make him effective and AP has fallen off the map. On the other side of the ball Dallas is hot and Miles Austin is totally my breakthrough player of the season. If Choice, Jones and Barber deliver on the running game Dallas has this one in the bag.

New Orleans Vs Arizona - Pick: New Orleans

This is probably the toughest call of the bunch. Both of these teams look good and both have been inconsistent in the latter half of the season. I'm taking N.O. because their inconsistency can be attributed to the fact that they locked down NFC home field advantage early on. Plus I think N.O. at their best beats AZ at their best. You've just got to love the Brees - Colston connection. I'm going to go ahead and ignore the Kardassian Curse (The saints have underperformed or lost every game while Reggie Bush has been with Kim Kardassian) because of the GLW. The GLW has a crush on Mr. Bush so it would be nice for her to have something to cheer for when I make her watch 12+ hours of football this weekend; and I can't see a down side to Reggie being in a relationship.

Feel free to tell me how wrong I am.
-T

"Things to Ponder over the Weekend" or "Blog-Fail"

1. Why do they make most Soda bottles resealable and most beer bottles not?

2. Why can't I think of anything better to write about?

OK so this creative thing is a lot harder than I had forecast. I'll be back later today with some more palatable vitriol.
-T

"21 is more than 20" or "The Shameless Septuagenarian"

I had to go to my local Raley's yesterday to pick up a few essentials, specifically Sour Cream, Cashews and a replacement propane tank for my grill, and I was met with one of the great frustrations of our age: Old people who don't think the laws of the land apply to them.

I quickly grabbed my items and made a beeline for the express checkout when a kindly old lady swooped in front of me with a FULL CART of items. Chivalry obliged me to let her pass and I so I stood in line silently fuming as the cashier unloaded 21 individually bagged vegetables from this saintly matriarch's collection.

Upon reaching the 21st item I was to hear the cashier remark "You know ma'am this line is for 20 items only" to whit our geriatric grocery enthusiast responded "Oh shoot, I thought I had less..." She then proceeded to ask the clerk the locations of several other items which she couldn't find, guilting (with a sickly sweet smile) the employee into sending assistance to locate and retrieve said items. Admittedly this was so she could go through the checkout again but still I needed the bagger's help with my propane.

Our ancient antagonist then proceeded to pay with (you guessed it) exact CHANGE. Notice I said change and not cash. This crazy old Biddie was counting out nickles and dimes, all the while making adorable chit-chat concerning the weather, her dinner plans, and any amount of other pedantry, ad nauseam.

Bullshit.
1. She knew she had 21 items to begin with; she'd individually bagged them.
2. The express checkout lane is not for small talk. It is expressly labeled express for the express purpose of express.
3. Yes, you can pay with cash in the express lane, but it sort of defeats the damn purpose when you have to separate the dimes from the coughdrops in front of everyone.
4. The shameless gall of this woman in asking for further assistance! I needed the bagger to unlock the propane for me!

Bah! To all the sweet old Grandmothers reading this blog: "LEARN THE RULES!!!"

-T

Avatar or "The Curious Instance of the Nuke on Pandora"

I will save you all my rehashing of James Cameron's latest masturbatory epic's similarities to Dances With Wolves and Pocahontas (http://failblog.org/2010/01/10/avatar-plot-fail/)

I'm also going to avoid describing, at least in detail, how the visual strength of the film hinges on its' marked resemblance to a 162 minute acid trip.

I'm even going to avoid mocking the slew of escapist theater junkies who have expressed feelings of intense depression and terminal ennui due to the fact that they can't really go to Pandora and get freaky with trees and what not.

I am instead going to pose a few questions.

Why didn't the humans just nuke the mother loving "Tree of Souls" from space?

Why did they feel that sending slow moving, insufficiently armored helicopters into the middle of a floating terrestrial asteroid field within the effective altitude of a myriad of nimble enemy combatants was the right tactical choice?

Why did they need to deposit ground troops into a dense jungle when their target was a single, static enemy structure?

And don't give me any garbage about how the area disrupted their guidance systems. They knew the location of the damn tree and they could've carpet bombed the whole canyon or hit it with a effing cruise missile (we have those NOW for Pete's sake!). Bullshit, total bullshit.

Yes the purpose of a movie, if you're a cynical jerk, is to sell tickets and yes, in that regard the movie has overwhelmingly succeeded, but come on!
Don't ask me to root against my species Mr. Cameron and if you do please have a better argument than "on this planet the hippie mysticism is justified because it's scientific, see we have scientists and they do science" And don't think I didn't catch that dig that we humans have killed our "earth mother" as if by developing the wherewithal to discredit a unifying mystical pantheism we have some how destroyed it. (Wow, my rant is getting a little off topic but whatever)
Give me a break, sentimental sappy douchebaggery in 3D is still sentimental sappy douchebaggery and thus I feel the need to call shenanigans.

If I ever go to Pandora, I will be sure to wear some flowers in my hair but until then SHENANIGANS. That is all.
- T

P.s. You know I totally looked up Avatar porn the moment I came back from the theater (much to the chagrin of the GLW).

Woo Hoo. I'm a Blogger.

... and so it begins.

Hello Blogosphere, my name is T and I will be shouting into an empty room for the remainder of our relationship.

As to my identity I am a married twenty-something living and working in the wine industry in Napa Valley ... wait... Please don't go.

Wait...

Hold on....

Don't leave me...
OK to clarify I WILL NOT be writing about wine, giving tasting notes, or exuding any form of pretentious, gloating douchebaggery. OK. So, the last point might not be entirely true, but when I am gloating and pretentious I promise it will have nothing to do with wine, the industry and people maybe, but definitely not the beverage.

As far as the title of my blog goes it refers to both the wasting of any of my minor compositional potential on an electronic forum (get it? "E"?) and to the good chance that I may be drunk while composing a fair percentage of my future posts. I thought it was pretty clever. Well fantastic, my first post and I'm already a gloating douche-bag who explains and kills his jokes while underestimating his non-existent readership.

Nice to meet you and stay tuned.
- T