[LOBO]
Sunday
Friday
The Hunt for Red November
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Doc Mike and I finish watching Duane "Dog" Chapman on Larry King Live, and come to separate conclusions.
Doc clicks off the widescreen. "You know what would have been funnier?"
"Funnier than this guy listening to an authentic recording of himself being a racist asshole, and blaming the National Enquirer?" I says. "Not really."
"Well, this guy is a bounty hunter, right? And bounty hunters are supposed to be tough. But this guy is crying on television? He shoulda rolled with it. Shaved his head. Got some swastika tattoos. Offered a half-price special apprehending black men while spitting foam all over the place."
"Yeah," I concede, cracking open another Blue Beaver Beer. "And then Oprah paratroops in -Mission Impossible style- rips off one of Larry's legs an beats the shit out of everyone with it."
"And how about that kid that sold the tape to a tabloid?" Doc continues. "I mean that family must be a total mess."
"I'll bet Thanksgiving dinner at that house is nothing short of spectacular. The kid walks in, 'Hi dad, I want you to meet my new girlfriend ...' Then the needle screeches accross the Perry Como record, and is followed by this big long awkward silence."
Doc muses for a moment. "Can't you just picture Dog carving the turkey with the gravy boat stickin out of his back?"
"That would certainly sell a lot of Tide and Shout commercials," I agree. "It's like a violent version of 'Dancin With the Stars', with 10% more white trash." I grab my laptop and boot up. "We should get Trew Life to narrate it. The ratings will be stellar."
"And right at the end," says Doc, creative juices flaring, "Al Sharpton comes in, pours the cranberries off of the hubcap they're using as a serving dish, and decapitates everyone with a single mighty throw."
"And carrying Duane's head by the mullet," I says drafting furiously, scrawling HTML like a machine gun, "he gets away by stealing the El Camino in the yard? I'm way ahead of you."
[LOBO]
Doc Mike and I finish watching Duane "Dog" Chapman on Larry King Live, and come to separate conclusions.Doc clicks off the widescreen. "You know what would have been funnier?"
"Funnier than this guy listening to an authentic recording of himself being a racist asshole, and blaming the National Enquirer?" I says. "Not really."
"Well, this guy is a bounty hunter, right? And bounty hunters are supposed to be tough. But this guy is crying on television? He shoulda rolled with it. Shaved his head. Got some swastika tattoos. Offered a half-price special apprehending black men while spitting foam all over the place."
"Yeah," I concede, cracking open another Blue Beaver Beer. "And then Oprah paratroops in -Mission Impossible style- rips off one of Larry's legs an beats the shit out of everyone with it."
"And how about that kid that sold the tape to a tabloid?" Doc continues. "I mean that family must be a total mess."
"I'll bet Thanksgiving dinner at that house is nothing short of spectacular. The kid walks in, 'Hi dad, I want you to meet my new girlfriend ...' Then the needle screeches accross the Perry Como record, and is followed by this big long awkward silence."
Doc muses for a moment. "Can't you just picture Dog carving the turkey with the gravy boat stickin out of his back?"
"That would certainly sell a lot of Tide and Shout commercials," I agree. "It's like a violent version of 'Dancin With the Stars', with 10% more white trash." I grab my laptop and boot up. "We should get Trew Life to narrate it. The ratings will be stellar."
"And right at the end," says Doc, creative juices flaring, "Al Sharpton comes in, pours the cranberries off of the hubcap they're using as a serving dish, and decapitates everyone with a single mighty throw."
"And carrying Duane's head by the mullet," I says drafting furiously, scrawling HTML like a machine gun, "he gets away by stealing the El Camino in the yard? I'm way ahead of you."
Thursday
China Answers Demand for Lead-Free Toys
Predator Press
[LOBO]
You have to love an entire country that makes Predator Press "Quality Control" look methodical and comprehensive.
-And now there's a potential spokesperson deal for R. Kelly!
Wits End
Predator Press
[LOBO]
I hate the inconsiderate and ungodly hours Predator Press tends to hold meetings.
I've never been to a single meeting conducted before noon that yielded anything practical whatsoever.
Almost by instict, I've avoided them entirely. I regard groups of disagreeing people highly efficient mistake-making machines, second only to ones that concur. And never fail, some jerk is always yelling at me, "But we told you about the blah blah blah at the last meeting!"
Frankly, I'm just plain tired of people that operate under the assumption that I'm paying attention.
I hold meetings strictly between midnight and 2am. If you're going to disagree with me, you better be damn well committed, and fully prepared to face the full fury of your "significant other" who has to pick you up after being dumped at some nondescript Dunkin Donuts 800 miles away.
For smart cats, the quickest way to the mouse is the cheese.
[LOBO]I hate the inconsiderate and ungodly hours Predator Press tends to hold meetings.
I've never been to a single meeting conducted before noon that yielded anything practical whatsoever.
Almost by instict, I've avoided them entirely. I regard groups of disagreeing people highly efficient mistake-making machines, second only to ones that concur. And never fail, some jerk is always yelling at me, "But we told you about the blah blah blah at the last meeting!"
Frankly, I'm just plain tired of people that operate under the assumption that I'm paying attention.
I hold meetings strictly between midnight and 2am. If you're going to disagree with me, you better be damn well committed, and fully prepared to face the full fury of your "significant other" who has to pick you up after being dumped at some nondescript Dunkin Donuts 800 miles away.
For smart cats, the quickest way to the mouse is the cheese.
Tuesday
Pipsqueak
Predator Press
[LOBO]
Look.
Nobody gives two shits about any planets other than the Moon and Saturn.
Period.
And by virtue of finding this obviously scientific and compelling jpeg on the internet, Predator Press is finally weighing in on this ancient mystery.
You know what we found? Bitchy scientist trying to make it hard on kids. Like when you make them memorize all 15 of the Presidents of the United States: it's all just academic busywork invented as a reason to pour more government money into schools.
Nine planets? Bullshit. And I'm not even talking about that whole 'Is Mars Really a Planet?' crap; as we all know, RDO destroyed Mercury six years ago and replaced it with an International House of Pancakes.
Just tell all teachers and charlatans this : "As per Predator Press, from now on there are only four planets: Earth, the Moon, Saturn, and the Sun."
They will likely be annoyed.
... We're screwing them out of billions in Student Loans.
Monday
Labels
Predator Press
[LOBO]
My second job -thanks to Divine Intervention- was a job working for none other than Steven Spielberg, and for a huge tax bracket jump to $6.50 an hour handing out the name tags at his box socials and raves and such.
As a young blossoming writer having finally achieved an annual income over five digits a year, I started to brashly share my creative gifts with the heavyweights of the Hollywood kingmakers.
Who knew the one that got 'Laci Peterson' would be such a bitch about it?
I'm not giving her any more glow sticks.
[LOBO]
My second job -thanks to Divine Intervention- was a job working for none other than Steven Spielberg, and for a huge tax bracket jump to $6.50 an hour handing out the name tags at his box socials and raves and such.
As a young blossoming writer having finally achieved an annual income over five digits a year, I started to brashly share my creative gifts with the heavyweights of the Hollywood kingmakers.
Who knew the one that got 'Laci Peterson' would be such a bitch about it?
I'm not giving her any more glow sticks.
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