My views on politics, life, death, the army, and other things too miscellaneous to mention here. This is a personal blog. This blog is 100% factual.
Bill Duckwing
Poet, Author, Journalist
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Your Super-Cute Daily Terror Alert Update Will Be Forevermore:
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"There are some myths and untruths surrounding the role God plays in our daily lives. To say that religion and politics do not mix, is certainly a myth, unless you ask a liberal. Anything that affects a Christian (and voting is one of them) — enters into the religious realm. Trying to separate the two is like trying to separate oil from a glass of water, it's impossible to do. "
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Monday, January 31, 2005
To Recap
Elections in Iraq seem to have worked out pretty well.
The prospects for T.O. playing in the Super Bowl are still up in the air.
The Washington Wizards continue to be surprisingly good this year. Gilbert Arenas is still very impressive. Larry Hughes is still out.
Michael Jackson still has fans that will support him to the end, and they're probably not even being ironic about it. I think.
-Yeah, I have absolutely nothing to say tonight. I felt compelled to post, though, if only to knock my previous post off the top of the page. Due to the "warm" weather we've been having the last couple of days, it no longer seemed appropriate.
-duckwing, at 10:01 PM
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Thursday, January 27, 2005
Today is the Day I Write Old Humorous Cliches About the Cold Weather in DC and Punctuate Them with Exclamation Points
Hello! Wow! Can you believe the weather we've been having! It was so cold I got out my ice pick and mallet just in case I needed to build an igloo for shelter!!
Wow! It was so cold today! Hitchhikers were holding up pictures of thumbs! Can you believe it! I just can't!
I was shivering so much today! How much! I was so cold, I almost got married! To a cold woman! Now, now! Not just any cold woman! We're talking about a woman so cold that while making love to her you can see her breath vaporize! Now that's pretty cold!
Today, in fact! My apartment is cold! I actually pulled everything out of my freezer! Wait a beat, please! It'll be so totally worth it! Yeah, so I took out everything out of my freezer, because, get this! I wanted to huddle in my freezer to keep warm! Oh my God! What a day!
Birds are crazy! Because it was so cold, the snowflakes were frozen in place! I saw the birds hopping from one snowflake to the other! It was so weird! Then they got frozen in place, and so did I, as I was walking in the cold! Then we just stood frozen in place and starred at each other!
It was so cold in Washington, DC, that even the politicians had their hands in their own pockets! Talk about comedic irony, people! Call me crazy, or just freezing my ass off, but I just could not believe it! What a day!
-duckwing, at 9:15 PM
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Wednesday, January 26, 2005
The Things They Teach Kids These Days!!
I get a monthly subscription to Harpers, and I'd love for them to put some more of their stuff online so I could link to it occasionally. Since they don't, I'm forced to type some of these excerpts out manually, but it's so worth it. These are excerpts taken from teaching materials provided and funded by your Federal Tax dollars for high school abstinence programs. Bush has already earmarked $167 million this year for abstinence programs this year alone, and the excerpts below were included in a report to Rep. Henry Waxman as examples of "False, misleading, or distorted information." They were taken from eleven of the thirteen most commonly used programs (excerpts in italics)
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Females have the uncanny ability to remember the most insignificant details about past experiences. This terrifies the average male. The loaded question "Do you remember when..." sends many an unsuspecting guy into a cold sweat. Men tend to be more tuned in to what is happening today and what needs to be done for a secure future.
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Circle the items(s) that can be totally eliminated through the use of a condom: infertility, isolation, jealousy, poverty, heartbreak, pregnancy, AIDS, substance abuse, genital herpes, unstable long-term commitments, meaningless wedding, distrust of others, sexual violence, cervical cancer, personal disappointment, feelings of being used, pelvic inflammatory disease, loss of reputation, suicide.
Now cross out the item(s) that can be eliminated by being abstinent until marriage.
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Deep inside every man is a knight in shining armor, ready to rescue a maiden and slay a dragon. When a man feels trusted, he is free to be the strong, protecting man he longs to be.
Imagine a knight traveling through the countryside. He hears a princess in distress and rushes gallantly to slay the dragon. The princess calls out, "I think this noose will work better!" and throws him a rope. As she tells him how to use the noose, the knight obliges her and kills the dragon. Everyone is happy, except for the knight, who doesn't feel like a hero. He is depressed and unsure of himself. He would have preferred to use his own sword.
The knight goes on another trip. The princess reminds him to take the noose. The knight hears another maiden in distress. He remembers how he used to feel before he met the princess; with a surge of confidence, he slays the dragon with his sword. All the townspeople rejoice, and the knight is a hero. He never returned to the princess. Instead, he lived happily ever after in the village, and eventually married the maiden, but only after making sure she knew nothing about nooses. (LOL)
Moral of the story: Occasional assistance may be all right, but too much will lessen a man's confidence or even turn him away from his princess.
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Sexual relationships often lower the self-respect of both partners -one feeling used, the other feeling like the user. Emotional pain can cause a downward spiral, leading to intense feelings of worthlessness.
Investment in another results in pain when break-up occurs; he/she feels deeper pain because he/she already see events in an emotional way. This depression may lead to attempted, or successful, suicide.
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These are all true, presumably (I mean, I didn't read the full report, but I figure if Harper's published them, they're probably true). After reading those, I can't say I'd have been too much more knocked out to find out they were into writing stuff like "Prior to intercourse, most women will stick razor blades into their vaginas and claim that they're 'menstruating', because women are vicious and duplicitous swine..." It almost read like a College Republicans manual as is.
I love Harpers.
Edit: Just so you don't think I'm making all this shit up, here's some fun links. A Washington Post Article. Some Conservative Dingbat's attempt to tie Rep. Waxman in with the Abortion Industry (which I would guess would have an "Abortion Lobby" fit to rival the NRA, or something). And here's my Google search to provide you with all of the abstinence education reporting over the past few months. Waxman's report was actually issued a few months ago, which doesn't make this news or anything, but still, it's funny.
-duckwing, at 5:19 PM
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Tuesday, January 25, 2005
Scrapple From the Apple
You know, there are not that many things out there that can call themselves the "funniest" since the debut of sliced bread. But I think that Scrappleface could just possibly last at least eight rounds or so as a contender for the title.
One of the great parodies Scrappleface provides is in its web design, which kinda imitates the Drudge Report style of headlines, and combines this with ads demanding your Visa account whenever your eyes veer a couple of inches from the center of the screen. I would've laughed my ass off right then and there if at the bottom of one of his Onion-styled "news stories" he said "developing...BUY "BUSH IS SO MUTHERFUCKING AWESOME -BY I. CRAPPED PANTS FROM AMAZON.COM FOLLOW THIS LINK>>>>!!!!11!!"
But of course, Scott Ott is not that kinda guy.
No, his humor is far subtler, which makes his ironies far more unique and delicious. I love the fact that he calls Hillary Clinton's position on abortion "pro-chife" -thank God I wasn't drinking milk when I read that one, cause I would've totally snorted milk right out of my nose, which would've left a big mess on my computer. And then I would've had to put my hand to my mouth and say "Oops," cause it would've been like an oops kinda moment for me, like that Norman Rockwell painting where that kid pulling his kid brother in that wagon lets go of the handle and watches in suspense as the runaway wagon speeds down the hill into the middle of downtown traffic in San Francisco.
Oops!
Sorry for the pointless vitrol. I'm not a bitter person, I just got a kick out of the fact that it won Funniest Blog or something in 2004 from some conservative coalition somewhere. That's all (no I won't provide a link).
-duckwing, at 9:51 PM
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Sunday, January 23, 2005
Super Bowl
Hey, I'm just hoping for a good and exciting game. The Patriots seem to be on some sort of ass-kicking session served with spoonfuls of irony right now (they hold the top offense Colts to 3 points, then turn around and rout the top defense in the NFL by scoring 41 points??), but right now I'm just hoping against hope that the Eagles will put up a good fight against them in the Super Bowl.
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Well, one can hope, right?
-duckwing, at 11:15 PM
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I'm Gonzo for Hilary Duff and JoJo!
I was on the blue line train to Largo Town Center the other night, going over the war plans, on my way to the DC Armory to see what all of this nonsense was about. A political mime with anti-Bush pins on his suspenders had been dancing around one of the poles in my car in a decidedly erotic manner, desperately trying to milk the confusion and utter panic in the faces of its "audience" for whatever it could milk. After a bit of this, he turned and obnoxiously patted a sad and disheveled man singing "Bill Bailey" under his breath on the head, and then starred quietly at him, only inches away from his face, in a manner that I can only claim as being "obsessive."
I was heading to the DC Armory for the first of the inaugural events in honor of the re-elected President of these United States, George W. Bush. Nominally "America's Future Rocks Today: A Call to Service." I had no idea what that could possible mean, but Bush and his family would be there, as well as musicians as diverse as Hillary Duff, to JoJo, to 3 Doors Down. I was intrigued.
When I got off the train and exited the station in Washington DC, a crack whore attempted to shove a pipe into my mouth.
"Here..." she offered, as she tried to eat my elbow. "Try this. You'll like it."
I quickly pushed her aside and tried to get my bearings in this decadent portion of the city. Tenement buildings were in a state of utter deterioration, rapidly being consumed by flames that stretched in a vibrant orange halo as far as the eye could see and lit up the night sky. Scalpers sold tickets on the street corners, pausing only to occasionally brush off the hot ash from the burning buildings that drifted lazily through the air and almost seemed attracted to their bright Fubu jackets.
I finally found the Armory, a hollow shell of a building, dull and at the same time, very interesting. I presented my ticket a biker dude with Hell's Angels insignia, and thought -wow, even the Angels are Republicans now. I'm very, very scared.
"Aren't you a little old to have been one of the volunteers?" he asked me as he raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, you're right, but my daughter was a volunteer..." I said as I shuffled my feet over the gravel of the walkway into the Armory. "She couldn't come because she's dying of tuberculosis. But she really wanted to hear how cool the concert was from someone she trusted, so she asked me to go in her place."
"Arrrrghh..." he growled, like a pirate. "Well, okay. Just don't let it happen again."
The sweet air inside the Armory was too sickening to be tolerated. It smelt of decay and moral failure. I squeezed my nostrils together with one hand as I fumbled around in my pockets for a cigarette, and then scanned the walls for the closest bar.
There were tons of teenagers in the main part of the concert hall, mostly accompanied by their parents. One of the kids came up to me.
"Hey, I don't think you're allowed to smoke here!" she said.
"Yeah, is that what you think? ...Well you just shut up, then." I scowled at her, and took another drag. "That's right, you just shut up right now and go listen to your stupid Hillary Duff!" I was almost spit the last two words out, they made me want to wretch.
Of course, she ran off sobbing. I decided to finish her off.
"You know what? You're not cool! You're a dork! Dork!" I had to shout, because she was probably about halfway across the Armory by now, but my shouting caused a bit of a commotion, and a couple of Secret Service Agents came over to confront me.
"Hey man," they said, both looking down at the ground, "you know, I know this sucks and all, but we're going to have ask to extinguish your cigarette. No smoking."
"Okay." I said, as I dropped my cigarette on the floor and stomped it out.
One of the SS agents looked down at my foot. "And you'll pick that up and dispose of it in a proper waste receptacle. There's no littering on these grounds, either."
"Yes, sir." I said as I picked up the butt and walked away from them. I found a trash can a few hundred feet away. There was a group of kids surrounding it, talking around it like it was the proverbial water cooler they would no doubt one day become acquainted with 10 years down the line.
At this point, the lowest rung on the entertainment totem pole for the evening, JoJo, got up on stage to do her set. JoJo is probably the best-known deaf American singer in the world right now, and copies of her last album, Jojo, has sold well into the tens of thousands as of this writing. She performs her pieces by using sign language to convey her lyrics while she reads a teleprompter that scrolls the lyrics down in time to the music.
JoJo performs her hit single "Baby It's You"
I'll admit that it was different. Not different enough to be interesting, though. If there was ever a time to think that interpretive dance would be a good thing at a rock concert, I was probably thinking this here. As such, she just stood at the teleprompter, gesturing as best she could in time with the music.
Though the crowd, I looked up and say the area where they were keeping the President, the Bush twins, and the First Lady. Clearly not fans of rock music, according to the press, they were surrounded by Secret Sevice Agent goons, and in a way they sort of reminded me of the Tsar Nicholas and the last Russian Royal family when they were in exile. Not a perfect metaphor, for the Bush family are captives here in our own country, confined to a box and a stringent set of rules and guarded from the people by the SS and the Hell's Angels.
Fuel and 3 Doors Down played next after JoJo, without hardly a hitch, except when Fuel frontman Brett Scallions made a unscripted digression between songs. "US Out of Iraq!!" he screamed, "Fuck You, America! And Fuck You George W...." and then after he and his mates were quickly taken out by the Hells Angels protecting the stage, 3 Doors Down got on and quipped, "Well, that was pretty funny, right guys?"
The show closed with Hilary Duff and some final remarks from the President. And honestly, I'm not sure what to say about Miss Duff. It feels like an infernal Mickey Mouse circle-jerk. Now I know that this shit has existed forever, the problem is that before they would sell a few thousand copies to deluded pre-teens and call it a success. Now they sell tens of millions, and are the cutting edge of pop music. And the funny thing is that it's a product that originally broke big at least seven years ago. Hilary Duff is Avril Lavigne, who is Britney, who is Janet Jackson, who is...oh who the fuck cares. I have to give props to the music industry for keeping this thing hot for so long now. Heck, I saw even some of the Hells Angels nodding their heads in time with the music.
George W. Bush took the stage after Hilary, and I knew it would be tough for him. On the one hand, he couldn't get off like an old codger (like me) and say that the kids today listen to shit today not even worth scraping off the shoes of rock musicians like ELP and the Nice. On the other, trying to play it "cool" with the kiddies by saying he actually loved the music would probably induce too much snickering and mirth in an average crowd. Thankfully for Bush, this wasn't an average crowd.
"How 'bout them 3 Doors Down?" Bush said, picking the band least likely to cause Republican men to doubt Bush's own manhood. "They sounded pretty cool to me."
-duckwing, at 4:01 PM
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Wednesday, January 19, 2005
A New Link to Ye Ol' Blogroll
It's been at least a few months since I've added a link, but Slowpoke is pretty worthy of my praise (yeah, we're still on gloating, covered in the last post). I like the mild absurdist elements that accompany the poltically left-of-center viewpoint of the comics. Caught it from a blog ad on This Modern World.
So by all means, if that's your thing, check it out.
-duckwing, at 1:14 AM
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Tuesday, January 18, 2005
On Gloating...
One thing I really hate, as a man with exceptional intelligence and a clever and biting wit, is gloating. Or any lack of true humility. I really hate that, because it's just a bunch of self-serving and wish-fullfillment nonsense without, as they say, a viable peg to hang a hat upon.
Which is why I will not proclaim my obvious divine appointment by God (which is redundant, but I don't care) as the guy you should definitely listen to when making NFL Playoff picks. Not that current record of 4-0 is anything approaching a surprise to me, but it might've been, in your ignornace, a bit of a surprise to you. And I don't blame you, my sheep, for doubting me. After all, many people in the media have made "wild guesses" about who would win last weekend, and they were perhaps as much worth to your wallet as last summer's ill-advised week in Vegas, where you lost $20,000, and also, your wife to a strip-club owner after her stunning realization that she really liked lap-dancing the tourists a helleva lot better than she like being a data entry clerk in suburban Cincinnati.
But, the fact remains, you learned from experience. Life is filled with hard lessons. Don't bring your wife to Vegas, and don't trust anyone except for me when if comes to playoff picks. Because I was 4-0 last weekend, and I plan on repeating myself.
-duckwing, at 11:09 PM
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Friday, January 14, 2005
The Sudden Death of WHFS -A Subtle Yet Telling Foreshadowing of the Corporate Takeover of Commercial Radio Now In Progress
With the death of DC's very own WHFS, we may have reached a critical turning point in commercial radio. One that we may find quite impossible to "turn back the clock."
WHFS was a radio station that, until last week, was a cry for the importance of radio anarchy. When no one else dared to, they found the strength and tenacity to play bands like Coldplay, and the Offspring, regardless of what the stiffs over at Clear Channel thought about it. And not only would they play these obscure but vital bands, but they would play them incessantly, sometimes hundreds of times a day. It was like a gigantic fuck you to Corporate America. A fuck you that they were not afraid to repeat hundreds of times a day.
And now it is all over. For WHFS has changed formats. Gone forever are the days of alternatives, for WHFS is now "El Zol 99.1! Siempre de Fiesta!" Whatever the hell that means. But, given the sinisterness of it's sound, I'd say it probably means "The Corporate Takeover of American Radio Has Just Begun!"
This probably also means the death of the HFStival, the annual free-form music festival over at RFK hosted by the radio station that featured bands like Coldplay, and also, the Offspring. These are bands that never would've been able to fill stadiums like RFK if it weren't for the tireless promotion at WHFS. Of all the radio stations in the DC area, only WHFS had the utter gall to bring bands like Coldplay, and the Offspring, to the attention of the masses.
This is a sad day for America, and I fear it signals the end of diversity and quality commercial radio in the United States as corporations suck out all of the originality with cheap plastic little straws.
But all is not lost, yet. We still have DC101, which has the hilarious Elliot in the Morning, and while they may not be quite as diverse as WHFS once was, they still play Limp Bizkit occasionally, and also, Staind. Sometimes, they'll play artists completely outside of their chosen format, like Christina Aguilera, just to spite the corporations. But I fear that it's days may be numbered.
And so, it's with a wounded heart and bitter tears of rage that I have to wave goodbye to WHFS.
Goodbye.
-duckwing, at 6:10 PM
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My NFL Picks This Week
I'm really knocked out by Playoffs this week. Some truly fantastic teams, all fighting in four separate battles and televised to the Nation by the networks this weekend. We have the Patriots. We have the Steelers. We have the Colts. We have the Jets. We have the Eagles. We have the Vikings. We have the Falcons. We have the Rams. And for four of these teams, it will unfortunately mean the End of the Line. For the year. And four teams that beat those previous four teams will go on to the Superbowl, which is the best, and penultimate, football game of the year.
I'm not going to claim that I have some kinda of inside information besides divine information on my picks this week, but I'm going to tell you who's going to win. So without too much further ado, here are my picks.
Further ado, I was thinking to myself today, like wouldn't it be cool if I was wrong about my picks. Like how about if the Jets just totally destroyed the Steelers. I mean, just fucking slaughtered them on national TV. I don't mean like a real slaughter, I mean I was thinking like 56-0 blow-out. Is that even possible? Or if the Colts somehow beat the Patriots? Or if the Vikings slam dunked the Eagles in the 1st Quarter. Or if the Rams took the Falcons to task? Wouldn't that be weird?
Picks:
1.) Eagles vs. Vikes -everybody thinks the Eagles suck now that TO is out of the picture, and that the Vikings are going to walk all over the Eagles and into the Superbowl, despite the season stats. I beg to differ. While the Vikes game against the Packers was weird, and the Vikings have some momentum, the Eagles are my favorite team in the NFL. They made the playoffs again. If they don't make it into the Superbowl for the umpteenth time in a row, I'm going to throw my Eagles hat in the garbage and whine and cry about it for a week. I don't think the Eagles are quite prepared to deal with that, so I don't think they'll be losing this game.
2.) Falcons vs. Rams -Uh...probably the Falcons. I'm not sure if St. Louis quite has it together enough to keep Michael Vick contained, though it should be a closer came that St. Louis' 34-17 loss to Atlanta earlier in the Season. And yeah, I had to look that one up.
3.) Steelers vs. Jets -This week be the most boring game of the week. Steelers.
4.) Patriots vs. Colts -And this will be the best game of the week. Peyton has had a fantastic year, and while matchups with the Patriots have sucked for the Colts the past couple of years, fate might not be enough for the Patriots in the game with half of their players on injured reserve. Losing Ty Law, who seems to be Peyton Manning's #1 Receiver in match-ups against the Patriots, also hurts big. But I have to give the nod to the Patriots again this time, because the Patriots are an extremely smart team, whereas the Colts tend to be pretty stupid about things. I mean, not to be to harsh -I'm sure some of the people managing the Colts know a thing or two about football. But against self-proclaimed "Super-Genius Coach of All Time So Fuck You, Lombardi's Ghost..." Bill Belichick? No. It's impossible to fathom. Patriots win with the sheer size of their brains.
So those are my picks for the week. Stay tuned after the weekend, when you can bask in the warmth of my own glory when I'm proven completely right, and drool over my picks for the Super Bowl. Vegas, take note.
-duckwing, at 4:54 PM
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Thursday, January 13, 2005
Why Would Anyone Like Belle & Sebastian?
That's actually kind of a rhetorical question. A friend of mine lent me his copy of "If You're Feeling Sinister" and after listening to a couple of songs I felt compelled to shit all over his taste in music.
This also kinda ties in with the death of WHFS in DC, a alternative music radio station that had a sort of "legendary" status for playing "innovative" music that "pushed the boundaries." Or so the proclaimed right before every commerical break.
But I don't have time for that right now -I'll write my WHFS obit a little later tonight.
Anyway, so my mind's on music, now with the death of the legendary WHFS and all. And I'm listening to "If You're Feeling Sinister" and thinking that this might just be the most horrible pop music I've ever heard. The funny thing about B&S is that they have no mainstream appeal, they tend to get barely mediocre praise from the critics, and people like me that generally like alternative music truly and utterly hate them. So, who actually is so knocked out about them that they're able to sell out medium sized stadiums? I mean, they sound like The Incredible String Band after ingesting a physically crippling amount of downers. They sound like an asshole at a frat party horribly attempting to play a Beatles song on his guitar over some semi-comotose drunk simultaneously attempting to mumble his suicidal yearnings while also trying to take a nap.
Wow, I'm stumped...
-duckwing, at 6:55 PM
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Thursday, January 06, 2005
Bill Unbound -It's a Living in the City
This is one of those extremely irregular features occasionally featured on the Apple Coda when I take you on a voyage into the land of Bill, unbound in the City, and let you draw your own conclusions. I've decided to call it Bill Unbound because it becomes hard to build up a simple and coherent theme for a blog post based upon one day in the life, as anyone who's struggled through Ulysses can certainly attest to. So in posts like these, I allow myself to come loose from these chains of single topic posts, and unleash my wrath of multiplicity and yes, perhaps even incoherence.
BLAH...WHAM...What? Soup?....Terror from the Spoons of Heraldry!
Nay. I won't go quite that far. That's too deep of a recess to even begin to plug a keg tap into. But the first real indication that today was going to be a blogging day was when I saw this old dude, totally wrapped up in winter wear, with a hoodie and orange gloves and a big freaking hippie beard, just pull a newspaper out of a burlap bag and just toss it in the middle of the street as he was crossing it. And I mean, the funny thing was that he was about 10 feet away from a trash can. He didn't even have to recycle it -he could've just dropped it in the trash can when he had finished crossing the street with narry a thought. But it was windy, so he decided to just dump a whole newspaper right out on 17th street. The wind picked it up and scattered it all over the street, of course, and some guy who was walking a few steps behind me muttered "nice..."
Nice? Ye Gods, I hoped he was being sarcastic, because if he was too jaded to realize that this was the fucking travesty of the century, I might've thought twice about clocking the newspaper guy, and just going ahead and clocking him instead.
Which would've been quite a spectacle, I think. I mean, clocking this nice suit, rather than the old hippie fucking up the whole hippie thing with his challenge to peace love and recycling and contemporary politeness.
So of course, I just trailed directly behind him by like two paces or so for a few blocks, my eyes boring deep into the back of his head, until he became uncomfortable enough to turn down into the alley behind Potbelly.
I had an appointment to see my dentist that day, so after I checked in and got seated in this huge ass dentist chair. And I when say huge ass, I mean, the things are built like huge ultra-luxury lounge sofas for some reason, and then -for some reason, I'm sitting down in this huge ultra-ass luxary dentist lounge chair, and a local DJ appeared out of thin air and cued up some trance and then purple velvet started growing out of the walls like it was something organic like grass. Only the velvet was growing much much faster than even the most hideously genetically engineered grass would ever unwillingly subject themselves to.
Big bright strobe lights appeared out of nowhere, blinding me temporarily, and I could only calm myself down by telling myself repeatedly that I hadn't quite lost my head, that it was only my retinas that had just gone stark raving mad. As I rubbed my eyes, the dentist and her assistant applied a local anesthetic to my gums.
"Relax...don't do it...when you want to go to it..." the DJ breathed into his mike as he spun some typical trance nonsense. And then they jabbed my mouth repeatedly with a needle.
"Do you feel anything?" the dentist asked me as she stuck the needle into my nerves in the top of my jaw. I felt my nose go numb, pondering the idea that with my nose numb and all, maybe my sense of smell would be lost, perhaps forever, but replied...
"Ah..."
I gasped, with a very slight jiggle of my face to indicate that all was well in my world, but not so definite a motion to cause a slip that might cause an "accidental" brain throttle with the foreign object now in my mouth.
Then they stuck cotton in my mouth, and a little suction device under my tongue, and let me sit for a bit for the numbing to take effect.
The dentist's assistant kept watch over me, waiting for the tell-tale signs of a numb face. I have no idea what those "signs" are, but I bet they look hilarious to an impartial observer. She asked me a few questions about what I what I did for a job, and the usual bullshit. The really cool thing, though, was that with the numbness and the cotton in my mouth I thought I kinda sounded like Sean Connery. It was kinda neat.
"Ahh...I work for the gov'ment, my dear!"
"Really, well that's pretty cool. Do you have any plans for going out on New Year's Eve?"
"Indeed! I plan on engaging on numerous social activities that particular night which will certainly make the ride worthwhile..."
"Must be nice," she said and pouted. "I haven't been out on New Year's in over three years. Do you have children?"
"But of course!" I said, trying to talk through the gauze. "Three children, in fact. All born out of wedlock. After all, I've been screwed more times than a hooker!"
After that, she didn't talk too much to me, but I think she took a particular relish in sucking out all the plaque and detritus out of my face with her little suction straw after that little exchange.
It hurt.
But afterwards, it didn't hurt so much. And my teeth felt cleaner, so I guess it was all for the best.
-duckwing, at 1:10 PM
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Sen. Boxer will Challange the Ohio Vote
Here.
It actually sounds more impressive and controversial than it actually is. It just opens up the floor to a two hour debate about voting irregularities and stuff before the Electoral Collage vote is certified.
But hey, at least it will be talked about, and the media might actually pick it up.
I just haven't been able to pull up anything on the blogs, or the news on the web about this, except for this, so I thought I'd throw it out there.
-duckwing, at 11:02 AM
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Monday, January 03, 2005
I Want To Be A Media Whore
This is my only New Year's Resolution. I know it's selfish -I mean, I'm just not going to get into the traditional pathetic resolution things and giving up something like drinking. Or smoking. Or illegal drugs, because they are awesome. I'm not going to start watching my diet until I'm at least 200 pounds over my target weight, because I'm not that kind of a whore.
But I desperately want to be a Media Whore. Can anyone find me a job? I do tricks...
I desperately want to ask Amber Frey the poignant questions about her relationship with Scott Peterson. Hard hitting questions that will make her cry on camera. And I want to show that I am compassionate and quite understanding of the ordeal she has been put through. Maybe I cut the tape and allow her the time to recompose herself. But then I'll press forward, because this story is important, and the people want responsible journalists covering stories that matter to them, and also, our Nation.
I want to follow up on the Neverland Ranch investigation of Michael Jackson. That certainly didn't get enough coverage the last news cycle. A blip, and then it was gone. I believe that this story has been under-reported, perhaps due to the influence of Hollywood. They probably don't not want to smear Michael Jackson's name any further, and I would probably find that very interesting. I could investigate this, and with a little luck, it could make the next news cycle before the Inaugeration.
I believe that the 2004 election has basically turned a little over 80% of this country into evangelical right-wing maniacs. While I do not necessarily hold the same views as this new majority of Americans do, I completely understand and appreciate their opinions, and believe that a mandate has finally been passed that we should not question. Their message is powerful, and passionate, and very, very engaging. That is encouaging in a political landscape that until recently was dull and uninspiring. And very, very politically correct. I personally would be comfortable moderating discussions between politically correct conformist left-wing nutjobs, and evangelical non-conformist right-wing nutjobs, and would be quick to point out to anyone that cares that I consider these viewpoints to reflect the Red State/Blue State dichotomy currently going on at dinner tables all over America.
I will say "Red State/Blue State dichotomy" until my eyeballs explode live on television.
I want to be a Media Whore. If you are a Media Pimp, please get in touch. My email is in the left column. Or bill.duckwing@gmail.com if you so prefer. I eagerly await your response.
-duckwing, at 7:18 PM
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