Coke Yak, you mean?

coke to launch coffee-infused coke blak. holy mother of god, that sounds disgusting, no, i mean, a really horrible idea. bad. and i am a coffee fan. not only that, it is going to be like that coke 2, or whatever the fuck it's called, that made me throw up a little in my mouth when i first tasted it. no. really. it did. it was after a metric century, 100k, and john k. and i were rolling into the final area, there are the coca-cola clowns all set up handing out sample cans of c2 with that splenda shit in it. 'oh, thank you,' i said, all nicelike, and really i was thankful and thirsty.. and i would have thrown up completely, if c2 hadn't instantenously dried out my entire mouth and nasal passage with its chalkiness, exactly what you do NOT need after riding 63 miles in july. if i had not been dehydrated, i would have turned around and thrown that shit right back at that blonde fucking coke cunt, but alas, it made me complacent as well. and thus, my rant ends. thank you.

squirrels are assholes.

first, it was ants that scared the fucking bejesus out of me. now, it's a wild pack of russian squirrels which have made a sport out of killing dogs. squirrels? SQUIRRELS. first, plague carrying rodents. now, roving bands of serial pet-killing punks. they are great pointed archers (RATS) with fuzzy tails, and they suck. this story is insane, perhaps it is the writing, but it sounds like an episode of law and order with the russian mob, except being played by squirrels. i am copying parts of the piece, because it is disturbing on so many levels, the image horrifying. i am almost a little nervous to go into rittenhouse square. have you seen the number of squirrels in there? certainly, for many reasons, i am not headed to kent, ohio, where the black squirrel rules with an iron fist. it made the nuts an offer it couldn't refuse. btw, i have bolded the parts that are particularly disturbing to me:

Squirrels have bitten to death a stray dog which was barking at them in a Russian park, local media report.

Passers-by were too late to stop the attack by the black squirrels in a village in the far east, which reportedly lasted about a minute.

They are said to have scampered off at the sight of humans, some carrying pieces of flesh.

A pine cone shortage may have led the squirrels to seek other food sources, although scientists are sceptical.

The attack was reported in parkland in the centre of Lazo, a village in the Maritime Territory, and was witnessed by three local people.

A "big" stray dog was nosing about the trees and barking at squirrels hiding in branches overhead when a number of them suddenly descended and attacked, reports say.

"They literally gutted the dog," local journalist Anastasia Trubitsina told Komsomolskaya Pravda newspaper.

beyond this story, there is a rather crazy, disturbing website that catalogues the horror inflicted by squirrels. north american defense against squirrels. some of the headlines on this page, which link to stories are:

Squirrels Break into Truck and Cause $700 in Damages
Psychotic Squirrel Attacks Biker
Granddad guns down terror squirrel
Crazed squirrel attacks hunter

sweet boxing moses

make it stop. except, wait, do i hear the eye of the tiger?
suck.
suck suck suck.
suck suck suck.
suck suck. suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck

why am i such a misfit?

i am not just a nitwit. oh, fuck it, yes i am. feliz navidad, merry christmas and all that other shit.

so, yeah, it's the beginning of the holiday season with snow this weekend and last night. of course, just to highlight my own ineptitude, i had no idea it was going to snow until i was already at work with my bike. so, yeah, it really is starting to feel festive in these here parts.

yesterday, i really began to realize it was the holidays when i took a half dozen overdue bills over to the post office. i mean, i'm lazy about bureacracy and, like, walking during lunch and stuff, so they had been piling up. why, you ask? you, a responsible adult, uberwensch, with a real, big person job in a tall building. well, honestly, i gots the fucking money, okay? i was out of stamps. I ADMIT IT. i didn't pay my bills and collected late fees, because i'm fucking lazy and i hate the post office in downtown philly at lunch hour. so, i decide to finally suck it up all in the name of my credit rating (thanks, anna, for awareness of that) and walk over at 1:15p. certainly things would have calmed down by then.

if you thought that, you are just plain stupid. dumb. because no, no, it was madness over there. like, are they giving out blow jobs with first class insurance? there were two lines, one from the front desk which was to the door, and another for the stamp dude, and that was to the front counter and then back to the door again. i basically looked in and said, 'holy fuck. i'm too old for this sh--.' (yeah, clearly, i'm in a danny glover movie.) but there were like people who were aged 150 in there, and i thought, 'come on now, suck it up.' but i couldn't. i simply, absolutely could not stand in line. or i would have died. so, i look around desperately clutching my pgw bill. where? where do i go? i can't take them back to work. i would be such a huge idget. there was no line at the machine, YES. so i bought just enough stamps from the little machines, because i only had two bucks (yes, you are right, that is just enough for a cup of coffee at starbies).

so then, i realize i haven't sent my christmas cards yet. (or bought ANY gifts for that matter.) or done anything. this is the kind of stuff that makes people have anxiety attacks, change their name and move to topeka under the name jane koslowski. so, maybe noone will get cards this year. or perhaps everyone gets 50 bucks. i finally understand that lazy ass uncle i had who just stuffed 10 bucks in a white envelope with no name on it. like whichever kid shows up gets an envelope. it didn't feel special, but who cares?

today, since my officemate is out sick with the gout (i shit you not. it's like when will had the shingles. i told everyone because i just wanted to say, 'yeah, will has the shingles real bad.') so, i am blaring the traditional christmas music via yahoo music launch. great music. i mean, i have not heard one instance of celine dion singing 'oh holy night'. is that not glorious? does that not prove the miracle of baby jesus right there? i mean, do your fucking ears bleed when she sings or what? i will not listen to mariah carey massacre any traditional tunes. i refuse. and 104.5 only plays the fucking crapass pop music christmas music. i mean, the funkiest i get is perhaps bowie's christmas song. or do they know it's christmas in africa? i mean, do they? it's the age old question. i can listen to rosemary clooney sing anything fifty times in a row, but one fucking sap rap version of 'silent night', and i am like in ohio highway road rage, you know?

so, this has adequately gotten me in the mood for putting up the christmas tree tonight. i'm too excited. and while i have been writing this blog, i have also ordered my first on-line gift--something for ubermensch. it's all going to be okay. now, pass the damn figgy pudding.

Yeah...

what i said before about understanding boys a little more, uh, scratch that.

monday morning, blech-y.

it's monday morning, around 9 something, and i'm at work. you can see the tragedy in this situation, right? i had a stupidly busy weekend. up early on saturday (oh, right, you already know that), and i didn't stop much on sunday. baking. baking. cleaning. and helping sam write a paper. i sort of was sore from too much working out, which made me stretchy and crabby, then i just got in a lousy mood in the evening and today. and hitting my 30s, i'm telling you, things change. it's exciting. i love coming into my own and everything, but things also change. call it biology. call it evolution. call it evolutionary biology, but i think i understand teenage boys a little more, and why men start wars, blow things up, and engage in suburban boxing clubs.

so, to bring myself up, i visited mcsweeney's this morning. coffee literally, and i mean, much to the chagrin of my co-worker, literally, came out of my nose from laughing so hard at this. i want to attribute this, and the link is below, but i am posting the whole damn thing, because it is too fucking funny for you people NOT to read. i don't trust that you will click on it. really, the trust thing is my problem, not yours, but the laziness thing is something, maybe, you should look at.

i don't know what the big deal about having a baby is. by wendy molyneux.

If there's one thing I'm tired of, it's hearing about how hard it is to have a baby. I hate to break the news to you, but people have been having babies for literally billions of years. In the olden days, women would have their babies right out there in the field, or on the back of a dinosaur, or, when we were still fish-people, right there in the stream. Then they would put the new baby in a crib made of stones and let a brontosaurus watch it or whatever.

But ask any modern pregnant woman whether she'd let a dinosaur watch her baby and she'll freak out as if you've just said the most outlandish thing ever. I guess irrationality is just one of the many so-called symptoms of pregnancy. Another symptom seems to be a case of the chubs. I don't know if these women know this, but nobody likes a fat girl. Sure, I'd love to order the nachos and the onion rings and claim that I'm "eating for two," but I guess I have something these pregnant women don't: self-respect.

When they aren't busy eating, pregnant women are constantly crying or going to the bathroom. They'll swear up and down that these are more of those famous pregnancy symptoms, but I watch television and I know that unstable women who constantly need to run to the bathroom are drug addicts. Perhaps you remember a certain episode of Saved by the Bell, when Jessie Spano got addicted to caffeine pills and Zack Morris had to stage an intervention to get her to stop the madness? Well, every time one of these pill-addled fatties waddles down the hall toward the loo, I wish I had Zack's courage.

And the worst part is that the endless complaining doesn't end after the baby is born. Rather than appreciating the fact that they had a normal child in spite of the drugs and the reckless overeating, new parents go on and on about how hard child care is. Everyone knows that kids love television and candy. Yet I've met parents who refuse to give a baby candy or let it watch TV, and then complain when it cries. Wouldn't you cry if someone took away your bourbon and cut your cable line just as Desperate Housewives was about to commence? What if Eva Longoria said something especially sassy and you missed it?

And then there are the babies themselves. Try saying something polite to a baby, such as "How are you?" or "Did you see Lost this week? Were you surprised to find out what was in the hatch?" The baby will simply fix you with a cold, fishy stare and not reply at all.

Listen, I don't want to brag, but I've done a lot of hard things in my life, and I'm tired of being told I have "no idea" what it's like to have a baby. Why, just last week my friend Carrie gave me a set of Calphalon pots and pans. These pots and pans are not machine washable, and you can only use nonmetal utensils with them or you'll risk scratching them. In short, my Calphalon pans are just as hard to take care of as a baby. But try pointing this out to a pregnant woman and the next thing you know, she's kicked you in the crotch.

WAKE UP, MIDSHIPMEN.

it's 530 in the am: do you know where your second cup of coffee is?in my belly. damn straight, homes. i'm on cup two and it's not even 530 yet. fuck you, sleep.i kick your ass.

this week has been slow and boring on the blogging front. sorry. work has been insanely busy and stupid, and well, that prevents me from reading things on the internet, and from writing stupid things about it on here. i hate work. i can't believe no one pays me to exist yet. well, now, i can devote time to writing about stupid shit that noone cares about. it is before 6 am on saturday after all, what else am i going to do?

Baby, you make my "love molecule" soar [yahoo] that bastion of journalistic integrity, yahoo news, has this piece on love. basically, to sum up, some italian researchers found that when you fall in love, you produce more of this molecule called nerve growth factor, but after a year, it is signficantly reduced in the blood. yahoo's conclusion. you can only be in love for a year. stupid yahoo. the researchers conclusion are actually that the molecule provides a strong role in social chemistry. alright. whatever dude.

bush gets jury duty. tee hee. that shit would have been hilarious. if he was sitting on a jury for like a dui or drug charge or something, pure irony, then as punishment to the sort of scruffy jeff bridges type character, the president makes him be president for a week to see what real responsibility is, they go for bike rides with the secret service, they fall in love...man. comedy. costner movies have been based on less substance than that.

MoDo, can i just say, briefly, hon, i miss you. i mean, i seriously, ache for you. oh. maureen, why have you let them make you into a tool for the haves? what about the little people, mo, what of us? i want to read your piece--w's head in the sand. i know what it's about, what all your pieces are about, leftist propaganda.feminist propaganda. it will make me smile. it will make me pensive. but most importantly, it will make me rant, and you know how i love a good rant. your flippant little comments. your stupid one line paragraphs. your unsophisticated below the belt jabs at bush. your clever, yet glib cuts will make me insane, yet, i am compelled to read you, maureen dowd, for the times you really make me think, you really make me say, FUCK YEAH, GIRL, rock that commentary. but i REFUSE to pay the ny times. i am holding out. and really, i'm probably only hurting me, but i can't do it. sorry, babe, you are just too high maintenance for me.

subway apologizes to kansas. [nytimes] so, this headline. i mean, i had to click it. what is this strange language in which states and public transprotation are communicating? what happened, did some turnip truck faller offer miss the f train and the subway said, 'we are sorry, tourist, not just to you, bt to all of your people, and your state, for being a cold heartless city.' but no, no, you are much more clever then me, que no? you knew they meant the subway food chains. they had an ad campaign for their salmon sandwich saying, 'another reason you're lucky not to live in kansas.' that shit is funny, you know, for an ad. midwesterners were not amused. fuck'em. learn how to take a joke, you live in fucking kansas. you need something to smile about. really, if you aren't laughing at yourself, then it's just us. and laughing alone is sad.