I am embracing my Socialist side! Join me in my awakening!
It is time we "Spread the Wealth Around!" It is high time we demand our football players spread the millions of dollars they make every season to those who don't have enough.
"From each according to his ability, to each according to his need."
It is important to see these greedy people shore with the humanity they represent. Football players make too much money. It's time we demand they "Spread the Wealth Around!"
Tuesday, October 17, 2017
The NFL Takes A Knee
I have to admit, the NFL initially pissed me off pretty bad. I have one love on TV that has kept me from cutting the cord and dropping cable entirely and that is sports. My life is pretty bland and boring, so the evening baseball game in the Summer, or football game in the Fall/Winter makes life pretty enjoyable.
I admit, the stretch between the Super Bowl and Opening Day for Baseball is pretty bleak.
This year the geniuses who play football got into a pee-pee measuring contest with Donald Trump. Folks, none of these people can put aside their ego long enough to go, "This is stupid, I'm not wasting my time responding."
I'm pissed; very pissed. The one bit of joy I have on Monday, Sunday and Thursday is gone. I'm not watching the idiots this season, it's ruined for me. I have scanned by long enough to see a few plays and then I move on. They make me sick and they are not getting my money.
I'm not going to burn my gear, I've already paid for that. It will just sit in my closet until I either resell it for profit, or the football players are hurt bad enough that I decide I'm done being vengeful.
I admit I am taking glee every time I see a football game where the stands are half-full. I'm not posting the photos because I'm not going to argue with the Comic Book Guys who make up the Internet telling me "That was at halftime you idiot."
I'm going to put a second post with a second way we can attack the football players. It's time to use the tactics of the Left against themselves.
I admit, the stretch between the Super Bowl and Opening Day for Baseball is pretty bleak.
This year the geniuses who play football got into a pee-pee measuring contest with Donald Trump. Folks, none of these people can put aside their ego long enough to go, "This is stupid, I'm not wasting my time responding."
I'm pissed; very pissed. The one bit of joy I have on Monday, Sunday and Thursday is gone. I'm not watching the idiots this season, it's ruined for me. I have scanned by long enough to see a few plays and then I move on. They make me sick and they are not getting my money.
I'm not going to burn my gear, I've already paid for that. It will just sit in my closet until I either resell it for profit, or the football players are hurt bad enough that I decide I'm done being vengeful.
I admit I am taking glee every time I see a football game where the stands are half-full. I'm not posting the photos because I'm not going to argue with the Comic Book Guys who make up the Internet telling me "That was at halftime you idiot."
I'm going to put a second post with a second way we can attack the football players. It's time to use the tactics of the Left against themselves.
Wednesday, August 23, 2017
Friday, August 04, 2017
Adventures In Music - The Creeps At The Down Home
Greetings True Believers... Beliebers... I'll come up with something to open with. Sorry, Stan Lee.
I posted out on Twitter and got a huge response to the idea of this blog series (thanks to both of my followers for responding) so I decided to go for it. The idea behind this series is to give you a peek into what it's really like being a local musician from a local musician's perspective. Sure, we had tons of hot babes (not), gobs of cash (not), loads of blow (not even meth) and admiring fans (ie: people who didn't throw beer bottles) but, beyond that, was the art.
Yeah, we were delusional.
First, some background;
My music passion began when I was in high school and decided I wanted to join a band. Hair Bands were big back then as it was around 1988/1989 and I was convinced it was my calling. In other words, I wanted to meet girls.
I started playing late in life, taking money I had saved from work (shocker kids, I was working at age 16 so I could have money) as well as some birthday money and bought a Stinger model bass. It was a Fender P Bass style oddball brand, but it stayed in tune, was playable and sounded OK. All in all, a perfect starter bass for me. With that in hand I had some buddies who offered to teach me how to play because they needed a bass player.
Rule 1: Bands always need a bass player because there are approximately 4 of us in the United States at any given time. You can't swing a dead hooker without hitting a drummer or guitar player and everyone is a "Singer" (I'm looking at you William Hung) but most of them really, really suck.
OK, so you have my "Beginning" as a bass player in a garage band. Let's get to today's story.
Today's story takes place at The Down Home in Johnson City, Tennessee. The band I was playing with t the time was named "The Creeps". We had kicked around some ideas on how to market ourselves and decided to embrace our weird side.
We consisted of Dustin Schrimpsher on electric guitar, Jackie Yeager on acoustic guitar, Michelle (I'll find her last name and add it later. cut me some slack, it's been over 20 years) on drums and Me on bass.
We had a tendency to laugh at weird things and write goofy songs. One of our classics was "Cannibal Romeo" which Dustin and I wrote in a fit of geek bliss.
I see you floating in the carrots and beets,
stoke up the fire girl 'cause I love boiled meat.
Something something something I feel like a fool,
I should have ate Tipper when she smoked that doob.
Yep, Rock n Roll Hall of Fame keep our seats warm.
We also had a dang fine song we had written about a trailer park queen who called herself Velveeta because she thought it sounded classy. It was obviously named "Hey Velveeta".
Do you sense something coming?
So, we get the gig booked. This was roughly late 1993, early 1994 and we packed up the vehicles to caravan up. We arrived and were pleasantly surprised, the place was fairly nice. They had tables, a good PA, a great stage and for the love of Pete, A GREEN ROOM!
Yes, it was a real room where we could tune up, chill out and not have to hide at the back of the bar freaking out over if people would actually show up where we could get paid.
My girlfriend and I (she is now known as THE WIFE) plopped down on a couch where we were met with another shocker. THEY WERE FEEDING US!!!
OMG, I can't explain how wonderful it is for a musician to get food. Normal gig meals involved Bean Burritos from Taco Hell or 59 cent hamburgers from McDonalds. A GREAT gig called for hash browns all the way at Awful House with black coffee.
We ordered our meal and it was... edible. With hindsight it was fine microwave fare but also with hindsight I did not suffer from food poisoning. #Score
Shortly after the meal I began to notice I was itchy. THE GIRLFRIEND was alo complaining and after a few moments we realized the couch we had crashed on was alive with frigging fleas.
Not, had some fleas on it, but was frigging crawling with these beasts from the gates of Hell.
Not much we could do but knock the tiny beasts off of us, scratch and get ready for the gig.
Time came and they called us out. The room was maybe half full, so not a horrible crowd. We put on our instruments and looked out.
Do you remember that scene from The Blues Brothers? You know, the one where they're at the redneck bar, behind chicken wire and the realize they're in deep doo doo. It was like that, only no cowboy hats and there wasn't any chicken wire.
Fortunately for us, the place really did have an "Eclectic" booking record, so we weren't pelted with beer bottles, but we were almost universally ignored except for a couple of polite bouts of applause.
The real pain came later when I stripped down after the gig and found I was covered all over...
all... over...
... with flea bites. I hope they burned the couch.
Stay tuned. I believe the next gig we'll talk about the dangers of playing music in the mountains of Tennessee with another band, another set of musician, another location in The Great Gatlinburg Gig.
I posted out on Twitter and got a huge response to the idea of this blog series (thanks to both of my followers for responding) so I decided to go for it. The idea behind this series is to give you a peek into what it's really like being a local musician from a local musician's perspective. Sure, we had tons of hot babes (not), gobs of cash (not), loads of blow (not even meth) and admiring fans (ie: people who didn't throw beer bottles) but, beyond that, was the art.
Yeah, we were delusional.
First, some background;
My music passion began when I was in high school and decided I wanted to join a band. Hair Bands were big back then as it was around 1988/1989 and I was convinced it was my calling. In other words, I wanted to meet girls.
I started playing late in life, taking money I had saved from work (shocker kids, I was working at age 16 so I could have money) as well as some birthday money and bought a Stinger model bass. It was a Fender P Bass style oddball brand, but it stayed in tune, was playable and sounded OK. All in all, a perfect starter bass for me. With that in hand I had some buddies who offered to teach me how to play because they needed a bass player.
Rule 1: Bands always need a bass player because there are approximately 4 of us in the United States at any given time. You can't swing a dead hooker without hitting a drummer or guitar player and everyone is a "Singer" (I'm looking at you William Hung) but most of them really, really suck.
OK, so you have my "Beginning" as a bass player in a garage band. Let's get to today's story.
Today's story takes place at The Down Home in Johnson City, Tennessee. The band I was playing with t the time was named "The Creeps". We had kicked around some ideas on how to market ourselves and decided to embrace our weird side.
We consisted of Dustin Schrimpsher on electric guitar, Jackie Yeager on acoustic guitar, Michelle (I'll find her last name and add it later. cut me some slack, it's been over 20 years) on drums and Me on bass.
We had a tendency to laugh at weird things and write goofy songs. One of our classics was "Cannibal Romeo" which Dustin and I wrote in a fit of geek bliss.
I see you floating in the carrots and beets,
stoke up the fire girl 'cause I love boiled meat.
Something something something I feel like a fool,
I should have ate Tipper when she smoked that doob.
Yep, Rock n Roll Hall of Fame keep our seats warm.
We also had a dang fine song we had written about a trailer park queen who called herself Velveeta because she thought it sounded classy. It was obviously named "Hey Velveeta".
Do you sense something coming?
So, we get the gig booked. This was roughly late 1993, early 1994 and we packed up the vehicles to caravan up. We arrived and were pleasantly surprised, the place was fairly nice. They had tables, a good PA, a great stage and for the love of Pete, A GREEN ROOM!
Yes, it was a real room where we could tune up, chill out and not have to hide at the back of the bar freaking out over if people would actually show up where we could get paid.
My girlfriend and I (she is now known as THE WIFE) plopped down on a couch where we were met with another shocker. THEY WERE FEEDING US!!!
OMG, I can't explain how wonderful it is for a musician to get food. Normal gig meals involved Bean Burritos from Taco Hell or 59 cent hamburgers from McDonalds. A GREAT gig called for hash browns all the way at Awful House with black coffee.
We ordered our meal and it was... edible. With hindsight it was fine microwave fare but also with hindsight I did not suffer from food poisoning. #Score
Shortly after the meal I began to notice I was itchy. THE GIRLFRIEND was alo complaining and after a few moments we realized the couch we had crashed on was alive with frigging fleas.
Not, had some fleas on it, but was frigging crawling with these beasts from the gates of Hell.
Not much we could do but knock the tiny beasts off of us, scratch and get ready for the gig.
Time came and they called us out. The room was maybe half full, so not a horrible crowd. We put on our instruments and looked out.
Do you remember that scene from The Blues Brothers? You know, the one where they're at the redneck bar, behind chicken wire and the realize they're in deep doo doo. It was like that, only no cowboy hats and there wasn't any chicken wire.
Fortunately for us, the place really did have an "Eclectic" booking record, so we weren't pelted with beer bottles, but we were almost universally ignored except for a couple of polite bouts of applause.
The real pain came later when I stripped down after the gig and found I was covered all over...
all... over...
... with flea bites. I hope they burned the couch.
Stay tuned. I believe the next gig we'll talk about the dangers of playing music in the mountains of Tennessee with another band, another set of musician, another location in The Great Gatlinburg Gig.
Tuesday, July 11, 2017
Emo Goofy - Rough Sketch
The things my youngest and I cook up...
We're still arguing over Eeyore's career choices.
We're still arguing over Eeyore's career choices.
Monday, June 26, 2017
Your Momma's So Fat
Stilton's Place had a nice commentary on how Kellyanne keeps sticking her foot in her mouth.
Sadly, I had to agree. Here's my comment on the post:
You summed it up well.
Both sides are pretending what happened was some "Great Scheme" instead of, as you described, a phishing campaign that got a hacker, or group of hackers, into some servers.
The left is relying on ignorance and fear to give the impression that this was a highly coordinated, sophisticated, state-sponsored attack which could only come from Russia against freedom and democracy.
In actuality, it was an email that likely included a hyperlink like "Click here to see what you won!" with the target URL being a script kiddie file with a keylogger.
Even if the program was written with a cryllic keyboard, we now KNOW the NSA does that to hide the source of our own programs. I'm sure the Russians use similar tactics. It could have been China, Iran, North Korea, Vietnam, or, for Pete's sake a kid in Indonesia who downloaded the file from a 4Chan group.
We don't know anything except the idiots in charge have no idea how any of this works and are not only over their heads on the technological aspect of this, they are over their head in how to handle it.
I feel bad, but Kellyanne is getting her butt handed to her on these things. I get what she was trying to do, but she got suckered with a kid's game.
Doesn't the Trump admin sit and think these scenarios out?
Minion 1: Hey, this report says Obama KNEW about the hacking and did nothing!
Minion 2: Idea! We emphasize that to show how Obama was negligent!
Minion 3: Um... Wouldn't that give the Democrat party ammunition to say, 'See! See! The Russians really DID hack the election!'
Ghost of James Carville: Dadgummit! Hornswaggled again! I'm madder than a tick on a June bug!
*I know James Carville isn't dead, he's just omnipresent*
Both sides should just resort to a televised Cut-Down contest, or a Your Momma joke-off to end this once and for all.
Your momma's soooo fat...
Sadly, I had to agree. Here's my comment on the post:
You summed it up well.
Both sides are pretending what happened was some "Great Scheme" instead of, as you described, a phishing campaign that got a hacker, or group of hackers, into some servers.
The left is relying on ignorance and fear to give the impression that this was a highly coordinated, sophisticated, state-sponsored attack which could only come from Russia against freedom and democracy.
In actuality, it was an email that likely included a hyperlink like "Click here to see what you won!" with the target URL being a script kiddie file with a keylogger.
Even if the program was written with a cryllic keyboard, we now KNOW the NSA does that to hide the source of our own programs. I'm sure the Russians use similar tactics. It could have been China, Iran, North Korea, Vietnam, or, for Pete's sake a kid in Indonesia who downloaded the file from a 4Chan group.
We don't know anything except the idiots in charge have no idea how any of this works and are not only over their heads on the technological aspect of this, they are over their head in how to handle it.
I feel bad, but Kellyanne is getting her butt handed to her on these things. I get what she was trying to do, but she got suckered with a kid's game.
Doesn't the Trump admin sit and think these scenarios out?
Minion 1: Hey, this report says Obama KNEW about the hacking and did nothing!
Minion 2: Idea! We emphasize that to show how Obama was negligent!
Minion 3: Um... Wouldn't that give the Democrat party ammunition to say, 'See! See! The Russians really DID hack the election!'
Ghost of James Carville: Dadgummit! Hornswaggled again! I'm madder than a tick on a June bug!
*I know James Carville isn't dead, he's just omnipresent*
Both sides should just resort to a televised Cut-Down contest, or a Your Momma joke-off to end this once and for all.
Your momma's soooo fat...
Friday, June 23, 2017
Why I Watch Doctor Who
"Human progress isn’t measured by industry. It’s measured by the value you place on a life.
An unimportant life.
A life without privilege.
The boy who died on the river, that boy’s value is your value. That’s what defines an age, that’s… what defines a species."
` Peter Capaldi as The Doctor
` Episode: Thin Ice
I have a love of the current run of Doctor Who. Specifically, all of the NuWho since 2005. I have some Brit friends who tell me Doctor Who is just a kid's show and they don't watch it.
So why do I?
Part of it is I'm a geek and always have been. I want to explain, that isn't all of it though.
A few years back I was going through a LOT of back pain. A LOT. I was really, really depressed and flipping through Netflix one weekend. I saw the series for Doctor who was there and decided to venture a try on it. I started with NuWho Series 1, Episode 1, "Rose".
I loved it.
Sure, it had some HORRIBLY CHEESY music, but you'd spend 45 minutes getting into the plot and what was going on and then WHAMMO! The Doctor does something brilliant and saves the day.
Eccelston (Number 9) is my doctor. He always put on a happy face to hide his true feelings. I was shocked when he blew his top in "Dalek" but by the end of the Series, I was hooked. I am sad he only had one Series as The Doctor, he was "Fantastic".
Tennant (Ten) is my favorite Doctor. He carried on with the happy faced, but troubled character. He added a lot of emotion to the part and it was more than just a fun ride.
But why am I hooked? Why do I watch a kid's show to this day?
Because the show is about hope.
The show gave me something to look forward to in my pain; something as an escape. When the TARDIS door swings open and The Doctor steps out, hands in pockets with his confident swagger, I knew I was along for a fun ride.
I liked Matt Smith (Eleven) and was severely disappointed in Capaldi's (Twelve) take on The Doctor. My family has since met him, Michelle Gomez and Jenna Coleman and they found them all to be wonderfully delightful people. They were gracious and kind to my kids and wanted to know more about them. They love their fans.
Series 9 made me like Capaldi's Doctor. Series 8 was just unclear on why he was... mean. I don't know how else to put it. I blame the writing of Moffet as he failed to show how much 300 years on Trensladore had damaged The Doctor as a person. I get that now. It also helps Capaldi's wild(ish) hair has given him a much friendlier look.
Three more episodes with Capaldi before we get a new Doctor. I don't know if I'll like him (or her if you follow the rumors) but I expect to remain a fan.
Hope is eternal. As long as I have hope, I have life.
An unimportant life.
A life without privilege.
The boy who died on the river, that boy’s value is your value. That’s what defines an age, that’s… what defines a species."
` Peter Capaldi as The Doctor
` Episode: Thin Ice
I have a love of the current run of Doctor Who. Specifically, all of the NuWho since 2005. I have some Brit friends who tell me Doctor Who is just a kid's show and they don't watch it.
So why do I?
Part of it is I'm a geek and always have been. I want to explain, that isn't all of it though.
A few years back I was going through a LOT of back pain. A LOT. I was really, really depressed and flipping through Netflix one weekend. I saw the series for Doctor who was there and decided to venture a try on it. I started with NuWho Series 1, Episode 1, "Rose".
I loved it.
Sure, it had some HORRIBLY CHEESY music, but you'd spend 45 minutes getting into the plot and what was going on and then WHAMMO! The Doctor does something brilliant and saves the day.
Eccelston (Number 9) is my doctor. He always put on a happy face to hide his true feelings. I was shocked when he blew his top in "Dalek" but by the end of the Series, I was hooked. I am sad he only had one Series as The Doctor, he was "Fantastic".
Tennant (Ten) is my favorite Doctor. He carried on with the happy faced, but troubled character. He added a lot of emotion to the part and it was more than just a fun ride.
But why am I hooked? Why do I watch a kid's show to this day?
Because the show is about hope.
The show gave me something to look forward to in my pain; something as an escape. When the TARDIS door swings open and The Doctor steps out, hands in pockets with his confident swagger, I knew I was along for a fun ride.
I liked Matt Smith (Eleven) and was severely disappointed in Capaldi's (Twelve) take on The Doctor. My family has since met him, Michelle Gomez and Jenna Coleman and they found them all to be wonderfully delightful people. They were gracious and kind to my kids and wanted to know more about them. They love their fans.
Series 9 made me like Capaldi's Doctor. Series 8 was just unclear on why he was... mean. I don't know how else to put it. I blame the writing of Moffet as he failed to show how much 300 years on Trensladore had damaged The Doctor as a person. I get that now. It also helps Capaldi's wild(ish) hair has given him a much friendlier look.
Three more episodes with Capaldi before we get a new Doctor. I don't know if I'll like him (or her if you follow the rumors) but I expect to remain a fan.
Hope is eternal. As long as I have hope, I have life.
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