NOT ONLY IS DANIEL KELLISON A PINKO, HE ALSO READS BLOGS

Get a life Daniel.
Stop reading blogs.
Stop reading books by Al Franken.

uhhhhh.... 

REDRUM

All work and no play makes Tim a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Tim a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Tim a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Tim a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Tim a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Tim a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Tim a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Tim a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Tim a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Tim a dull boy.

MITCH HEDBERG R.I.P.

Bummer. 

?? 

FLY THE HOLY SKIES

Took a flight to JFK yesterday from Los Angeles.
I was seated next to a Hassidic dude. Nice enough fellow, just not the most personable fellow in the world.
Anyway, I'm a Catholic. My entire life I've been surrounded by both Irish Catholics (Dad's side) and Italian Catholics (Mom's side.)
So needless to say, I got kind of confused when the guy next to me started praying on the plane. First thing this morning I sent an email to two friends of mine at work who are Jewish about what I witnessed. Here's the original email and replies.

-----Original Message----- From: Der Kommisar
Sent: Wednesday, March 30, 2005 10:08 AM
To: (Censored)
Subject: Jew Question My Chosen Friends- Yesterday on my flight back from LA I was seated next to a Hassidic fellow-nice enough guys, just not very personable. Anyway, about an hour into the flight he rolled up his sleeve and tied this gnarly looking black leather strap on his arm all the way down to his index finger. Then he opened a little red box and took out a device that he kissed and then strapped onto his head. It looked almost like a headlamp that hikers use. Then he basically rocked back and forth like a motherfucker for like 15 minutes. What is that strap and head ornament all about? Seriously.

-----Original Message-----
From: (Censored)
Sent: Wednesday, March 30, 2005 10:08 AMTo: (Censored)
To: Der Kommisar
Subject: Jew Question

Funny...I actually do that every morning. Not even kidding.
It's called Tefillin...it's sort of like prayer gear. Inside those little boxes on his arm and head are prayers written on tiny parchment. When Jews pray, they wear this stuff. If you ever see pictures of Jews praying at the Western Wall in Israel, you'll probably see tons of it.
There's more to it, but it's hard to explain. Just realize that we're kind of crazy.


-----Original Message-----
From: (Censored)
Sent: Wednesday, March 30, 2005 10:08 AM
To: Der Kommisar
Subject: Jew Question

You just discovered tefillin.That means you're Jewish now too.


There you have it.
I kind of felt like a heathen sitting there sipping my Bloody Mary and watching some God awful Hilarie Duff movie while homeboy was kicking it to Yaweh.

FLY THE FAT-ASS SKIES

Took a flight yesterday from Las Vegas to New York. After 11 years working at the same company somehow the Travel Management Department got the bright idea to book me in a middle seat. Genius! Nothing like being hung-over and half drunk with cottonmouth enjoying a 6 hr flight wedged between two enormously fat men.
Meal service? Here's a box of rice krispies with skim milk.
I'm sorry but how do people let themselves get so goddamn out of shape?
Two sweating, snorting, snoring fools in golf shirts forcing my arms off the armrests for the entire flight. And the air conditioning was on the fritz as well.
Nothing like watching sweat roll off furrowed brows for hours at a time.

Paging Dante-I've found the sixth ring of Hell and it's Continental Flight 235 to Newark.

God I hate you 

CURT SCHILLING SUCKS

So the big Congressional hearings on steroids in Major League Baseball went down yesterday. Typical bureaucratic bullshit. It was basically the same thing that went down after Janet Jackson's boob popped out at the Super Bowl. All of these politicians who are up for re-election have to get in a room to publically shame the people the perceive as the culprits so that their constituents can see how morally upright they are. What a load. And how perfect was it that Mr. Morally Upright himself Curt Schilling waddled into that chamber room? Here is a guy that wants nothing more than to be looked at like a hero. Remember last year when all you heard about was how Curt's leg was basically gangrened beyone recovery? How he was sleeping with his leg ensconced in a glass box filled with big, black nasty leeches. How he was risking paralysis by pitching against the Yankees in the ALCS. Remember the lame ass bloody sock? The one that looked like he stuck a pinpricked packed of ketchup in it for dramatic effect? Well, here's something that speaks volumes about Curt Schilling- fucko actually went and donated the sock to the Baseball Hall Of Fame in commermoration of his heroics against the mighty Yankees. Look at me America. My ankle was bleeding and I still pitched!

So there he was yesterday, in his cheap looking suit with that balding coiffe, waxed into ridiculous spikes. He looked like he had a fucking soap dish on his head. His sunken eyes looked darker than usual, almost like he's been up really really late lately, probably cranking Hulk Hogan's "I Am A Real American" and practicing his pathetic "You can't touch my heater" glare that he shoots from the mound every now and then. His reason for being at the hearing yesterday? To volunteer his services to Congress to help solve the steroid problem in baseball. He also got to fire off some one liners atJose Canseco because when the mic's on, Curt's gotta be the center of attention. Gotta get some laughs, show America how sharp he is and how he's not afraid to stand up to a corrupt steroid abuser like Jose Canseco....or Manny Ramirez.....or David Ortiz......
I respect Jose more than I respect you. He's a classless piece of shit that will make money any way he can. But he's not hiding behind anything. He has no shame. He has embraced his role as a wart on the ass of society and damn it all if you don't like it. You on the other hand are a fraud. You're a fake. And you're ugly as sin.

Curt-here's the deal. I hate your guts. You have a big mouth. You've been with the Red Sox for one year and you're already talking like you're Johnny Pesky or Dom Dimaggio. You're fat. I hate that gaudy ass, thick, Run DMC looking gold rope chain you pitch in. You're so hungry to be perceived as a "good guy" that it's sad.
But it's out there fat boy. The inevitable DWI or scandal with a hooker.....it's going to happen. One day, very soon, you will be exposed for the fraud you are. So have a nice time playing Good Guy with the politicians. To quote the immortal Hunter S. Thompson "I warn you once again, that the hammer of justice looms and that your filthy white uniform will become a flaming shroud!" Until that day comes, go choke on your food you slob.

AIM HIGH

I had to submit my goals for 2005 to my Boss back in January.
Here is what I sent in.

-Meet Patrick Swayze
-Drive a Firetruck with the lights and siren going
-Get more accurate with my ninja throwing stars
-Prove that the Loch Ness Monster and Sasquatch are real.
-Learn how to log roll
-Work on an oil rig
-Fight in the Golden Gloves
-Gouge someone's eye out in a bar fight
-Catch a fly with chopsticks
-Book either Hunter S. Thompson or Mickey Rourke on TRL (I guess Mickey will have to do)
-Learn how to be a beekeeper
-Shoot Mount Rushmore with a wristrocket
-Have a Pale Ale named after me
-Get "taken down" by the Secret Service
-Light a fireworks stand on fire
-Learn how to make sushi
-Build up an immunity to anthrax and cynide
-Build a really rad Haunted House
-Get tasered by a State Trooper
-Have my air bag deploy
-Raise pirhanas
-Smoke in an airplanes lavatory
-Get Marilyn Manson to play my daughter's 3rd Birthday Party

Kiss Me, I'm Irish

Wow. I haven't posted here in like four months. I now know that Bloggers have a lot of time on their hands. Who has time to sit down in front of this computer every day (sometimes multiple times a day) and post? With pictures? And links? When I think of the word "Blogger" I think of a really skinny, pasty faced person sitting in their dark, dingy apartment. They are dressed in semen crusted sweat pants and a t-shirt and have at least one cat sitting on their lap. They are shoving goldfish crackers into their mouth and swigging Mountain Dew out of a huge bottle. They have a big bucket at their feet that they piss in because they can't tear themselves away from the internet to relieve themselves. Anyway, I digress.

Today is St. Patrick's Day. My people are in full force.
Nothing like walking to work with the sound of bagpipes skirling in the wind.