Bluebell tastes just like the good old days.

December 1, 2007

I remember our old country home
Clean fresh air and the flowers growing
In the fields, along the path, beside our swimming hole

Momma hollering through the screen
Would you kids like some homemade ice cream?
That was such a simpler time and place
Blue Bell tastes just like the good old days

The previous two paragraphs are from a Bluebell ice cream commercial that was played on the radio relentlessly this past summer.  Does this appeal to anyone?  Because it just bothers the fuck out of me.  I don’t remember the old swimming hole, our old country home, or my “momma hollerin’ through the screen.”  Who are these people talking to?  Why not make a Bluebell commercial targeting the ghetto?  I think if they did it would go something like this…

I remember our old ghetto slum

dirty crack houses and the bullets flying

In the alley, by the dumpster, beside our crack whore Betty

The cops hollering through the speaker

you kids seen this tweeker.

That was such a shitty time and place

Bluebell tastes just like a hooker’s ass.

Something tells me that the advertising executives wouldn’t go for that.  They would cite reasons such as “that doesn’t even rhyme half the time (but that did)”  and “you shouldn’t compare our product to a hooker’s ass.”  Bullshit!  You just don’t like people in the ghetto!  Call Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson!  Let’s march on the Bluebell corporate headquarters!


Am I right?

November 26, 2007

A certain unnamed individual and I have been having a debate about terrorism.  I say that the use or threat of violence(terror) to achieve a goal is terrorism.  That person disagrees but does not give his/her own definition of terrorism.  So I explained it to him/her like this,  “look mother fucker here is what Merriam-Webster says, “the systematic use of terror especially as a means of coercion.”  To me that’s pretty good.  But no.  Am I right or what?


…but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night

November 26, 2007

Here’s the newest Holiday Inn Express commercial (in my mind).  It starts at at gynecologist’s office with a woman in stirrups and her lower body is covered in a white sheet.  A man in a white coat walks in and says “let’s have a look.”  He proceeds to pull up a short stool, prod and poke her vagina and make comments such as “well this doesn’t look right, I think we should take a pap smear and possibly biopsy this growth.”  The woman is scared shitless by the word biopsy but is grateful to the doctor because he may have caught the cervical cancer early.  She then proclaims, “thank you doctor.”  At which point he says the inevitable, “oh, I’m not a doctor, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night.”  The commercial ends with the woman curling up in the fetal position and weeping softly because of the vaginal intrusion by a complete stranger.   I really should write commercials (which is entirely possible due to the writers strike).


Dude, where’s your gun?

November 25, 2007

So I was walking through the Killeen, TX mall the other day and I noticed a security guard walking around.  This normally wouldn’t set off any alarms in my mind, seeing that rent-a-cops are everywhere in the mall.  However, I was looking at the gear he was wearing and noticed that he was wearing a gun holster.  This also wouldn’t normally set off any alarms in my head.  The catch is…there was no gun in the holster and he did not have the gun in his hand.  Why would you wear a holster but no gun.  The answer is simple, you wouldn’t.  So where’s the gun?  My hypothesis is as follows…the guard was hanging out in the food court when a group of hot high school chicks walked by.  He beckoned them over and wowed them with his awesome job and allowed them to hold his gun.  When this was over he took one of them to the john and did what sleazy security guards do best, plow underage pussy.  The only problem is that he left his firearm on the table at the food court!  Good job dick.


ARGH!!!! All the fucking red tape!

October 5, 2007

So I went to buy some white interior paint today for Army use at the on post store and I encountered the biggest amount of bullshit ever.  I walked into the store and told the cashier that I needed to buy 2 gallons of paint, she told me that I had to get a sheet signed by DPW.  So I took the sheet to DPW down the street and they informed me of three things that would delay my receiving the paint.  First, I had to drive all the way across base (Fort Hood is very large) and talk to some Sergeant First Class that I had never heard of to get his approval for my paint purchase.  Next, I had to bring the form back to DPW and the engineers would pull up a blueprint of my building and determine just how much paint I needed to complete the task (what if I wanted to put on 3 coats instead of 2?).  Finally, the form had to go to a committee that would decide if I could have the paint.  After that bullshit I was informed that the next committee would be formed on October 15th.  October 15?!?!?  Holy shit!!!  What if I need that paint now?  So I went back to the store and bitched a little about my whole ordeal and they informed me that they could sell me one gallon of paint per day.  WOW!!!  YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME THAT BEFORE MY RUN-IN WITH DPW!!!!  So one gallon is OK but with 2 gallons they go into super freak-out lockdown mode.   Which brings me to my next point.  In the time it would have taken me to jump through all of these hoops, I could have amassed 10 gallons of paint!  WHAT THE FUCK!!!  And it’s not like this is highly sensitive material or anything.  Oh my God if this falls in to the wrong hands…  Then what?  Some one will paint something they’re not supposed to?  Bullshit.



September 19, 2007

I just read an article on Drudge Report about a 70 year old woman who was arrested for not watering her grass.  She was charged with a class B and C misdemeanor in the incident for interfering with a police officer (when she failed to ID herself and attempted to walk back in her house) and a “landscape violation.”  What the fuck!  How can you get arrested for having a brown lawn?  What the fuck is a landscape violation? Why does anyone have the right to tell you what your property will look like?  I guess the cops in the “Neighborhood Preservation Unit” in Orem, UT don’t have anything better to do than harass old ladies.


A new policy that will reduce traffic fatalities.

May 21, 2007

While at work today I was chatting with some friends after the work was done. We got on the subject of one of my buddies drinking and driving and it gave me a great idea. I know that the idea I am getting ready to unleash on you has nothing to do with DUI, DWI, or any other sort of drunken behavior, but the drunk drivng was what got me started. Anyways, the current slogan and policy is “click it or ticket,” meaning you better wear your seatbelt or you will get a ticket. My slogan and policy would be “steriods and stunguns.” Here’s how a basic encounter would go under “steriods and stunguns”…

Scene: Woman is pulled over in front of a 7-11 for going 50 in a 35.

(woman rolls down window as officer approaches)

Officer: Do you know why I pulled you over ma’am?

(officer realizes woman is unbuckled)

Woman: No officer I don…ahhhhhhh! (as she is nailed in the ribs with a stungun)

(officer rips woman through open window and commences a beating that would make Rodney King cringe).

So if you didn’t catch that, the reason the policy is called “steriods and stunguns,” is because you zap the offender with a stungun and then pull them through the window. A normal police officer would not be able to repeatedly pull people through windows without the help of steriods. Here is what the average participants in a “steriods and stunguns” episode would look like…
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Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket
Scumbag law breaker

I think my policy would reduce traffic fatalities by at least 50%. People would be so scared of ‘roided up popos that they would refuse to get in a car without at least 1 seatbelt (they would prefer 2 because the officer’s eyesight may be poor and cause him to attempt an unwarranted beating).