Sometimes when you're up to your ass in alligators it's hard to remember you started wanting to drain the swamp.
It's hearing season up here in Boss-town, so I'm very busy scuttling from oak-paneled room to oak-paneled room, kicking @ss and taking names. Oh yes, the forces of sin and inequity (that is, nasty polluters and perpetrators of sprawl and bad development) quake when they see the mighty Kal and his cohorts coming.
Well, maybe not so much. I am at an inherent disadvantage with the malefactors of great wealth: I can't golf, and I don't like to drink in public...
(My drinking is all done at night, in the dark, while caressing the lovely, cold blue-steeled barrel of my .38.)
So, some personal news: I've become an uncle for the first time, as Brother-in-Law #2 has finally spawned. See, the wife and I are the oldest in our families, and up to now none of our combined five brothers and sisters had seen it fit to settle down and fulfil their biological imperatives.
Wifeypooh has a bundle of brothers and sisters, but the one closest to her age is, at 34, a confirmed bachelor. I think he spent way too much time with Wifeypooh growing up and has seen what a miserable bastard I am -OUCH!- (boy, she moves quietly when she wants to)...
Anyway, he's not going to get us nieces or nephews anytime soon. And Brotherdear is a Stage 4 commitment phobe with a nice dose of LookingForMsPerfect-itis, so while he's been in a couple of fairly long term relationships, I have my doubts (although I like his current paramour... She seems to call him on his shit, which he severely needs...) But I'm not holding my breath with respect to him.
The other siblings are all fairly young (Sister-in-Law#2 was 5 when I started dating Wifeypooh about 100 years ago), so we've had to wait a while, but it finally happened today, with a little girl coming this afternoon.
And I'm so glad it was B-I-L #2 who had the kid, as he was the giver of several loud and obnoxious baby toys for which I now get to return the favor, bwa ha ha...
Well, off to do some work. Thanks for checking in!
Showing posts with label Brotherdear. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brotherdear. Show all posts
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Monday, May 12, 2003
Thoughts for a Monday Morning
Ah, it's been almost a half month. In truth, I was just trying to up the anticipation. Or, I had nothing to say. You pick.
So, some random thoughts:
The ongoing Bob Ryan controversy:
Jason Kidd, who actually smacked his wife, got a $200 fine and agreed to undergo counselling. Bob Ryan, who said he would like to smack Kidd's wife, got a one month unpaid suspension.
Sooo, Jason Kidd, who actually beat his wife, loses 200 bucks. Bob Ryan, who only says he would like to beat Jason Kidd's wife, is out, at least, 10 grand.
The lesson: in America it is cheaper to actually beat your own wife than to say you want to beat someone else's wife.
Does this send the right signal? What the heck is wrong with this country?
And please, the nattering nabobs: I am not condoning wife beating. My mother taught me never to hit a lady. She taught me to duck and run when the lady is throwing vegetables, plates, cutting boards, etc, at you.
SERIOUSLY FOLKS ADDENDA
Actually, the disparity between Ryan's punishment and Kidd's (and put aside that Ryan's punishment is by a private party with which Ryan has a consensual relationship -- that is, if he were ticked enough about this he could tell his employer to go pee up a rope and he could take his golden prose elsewhere, while Kidd's penalty is imposed by THE MAN), anyway, Ryan's rather stiff penalty vs. Kidd's slap on the wrist, just perpetuates the double standard that domestic violence prevention labors under. Threaten a person outside your personal sphere -- big time trouble. Threaten (and hit) your wife -- well, that's a different (somehow less serious) matter. This is lunacy.
What Ryan did was essentially to get up on a park bench and say he would like to smack somebody. This is somehow worse than me going out and actually smacking the next passer-by? Oh, no, I see, if the next passerby was my wife, then that's a matter for counseling. But if it was a private citizen then it's off to the hoosegow with me. See this for a discussion of the term hoosegow. I just like that word.... This double standard makes absolutely no sense at all.
Okay, back to the trivial...
And you were expecting?:
The new JD Powers survey says the Hummer owners are slightly upset at the vehicle's gas mileage.
Umm..
Boy, getting 10 mpg rather than that 12 you had expected is certainly a bummer. Are these folks really that dense? This frickin' car weighs like 9,000 pounds! It has more interior room than my first apartment! A hummer with a gun rack is enough firepower to coup d'etat at least four or five central american nations!
And you pay $50,000 and are worried about gas mileage? It's like griping about the lack low number of cupholders in brother Goodson's BMW Z4.
Morons. A nation of morons. Of rich morons.
Evil triumphs, because good is stupid.
Well, Jenna picking up the $1million was fairly pukey. Talk about a hobson's choice though: vapid jenna or crazy matt. I guess I just don't understand Christy. I mean, somebody did tell her that you wrote down the person you wanted to win, right? Motherdear will be devestated, although not as much as if manboobs bob had won. She thought rob was the nexus of all evil in the universe, but isn't that the lesson we take from the six seasons of survivor? Evil is rewarded with the million bucks, good wins a car.
Z4.
Drove brother Goodson's Z4 this weekend.
Niiiiice.
Mucho boosto, as our south american friends would say. Shift that baby into second and step on the gas. Woooooosh. One problem. The nose is entirely too long. How do I know this? Because I managed to hit the curb while parking in the local donut establishment. Sickening "crunch" sound. Abrupt stop. Nausea. Visions of fratricide.
Relatively unknown BWM safety feature: it is impossible to put one's head behind a tire and commit suicide by releasing the parking brake. Car is too low to the ground to accomodate normal human-sized noggin.
brother Goodson was very understanding. Am only banned from driving said Z4. Can still oogle it and wax once per month.
Okay, that's all for now.
Did the hip among us get the movie reference? As always, emails to Kalezac@gmail.com guarateed to be completely ignored.
So, some random thoughts:
The ongoing Bob Ryan controversy:
Jason Kidd, who actually smacked his wife, got a $200 fine and agreed to undergo counselling. Bob Ryan, who said he would like to smack Kidd's wife, got a one month unpaid suspension.
Sooo, Jason Kidd, who actually beat his wife, loses 200 bucks. Bob Ryan, who only says he would like to beat Jason Kidd's wife, is out, at least, 10 grand.
The lesson: in America it is cheaper to actually beat your own wife than to say you want to beat someone else's wife.
Does this send the right signal? What the heck is wrong with this country?
And please, the nattering nabobs: I am not condoning wife beating. My mother taught me never to hit a lady. She taught me to duck and run when the lady is throwing vegetables, plates, cutting boards, etc, at you.
SERIOUSLY FOLKS ADDENDA
Actually, the disparity between Ryan's punishment and Kidd's (and put aside that Ryan's punishment is by a private party with which Ryan has a consensual relationship -- that is, if he were ticked enough about this he could tell his employer to go pee up a rope and he could take his golden prose elsewhere, while Kidd's penalty is imposed by THE MAN), anyway, Ryan's rather stiff penalty vs. Kidd's slap on the wrist, just perpetuates the double standard that domestic violence prevention labors under. Threaten a person outside your personal sphere -- big time trouble. Threaten (and hit) your wife -- well, that's a different (somehow less serious) matter. This is lunacy.
What Ryan did was essentially to get up on a park bench and say he would like to smack somebody. This is somehow worse than me going out and actually smacking the next passer-by? Oh, no, I see, if the next passerby was my wife, then that's a matter for counseling. But if it was a private citizen then it's off to the hoosegow with me. See this for a discussion of the term hoosegow. I just like that word.... This double standard makes absolutely no sense at all.
Okay, back to the trivial...
And you were expecting?:
The new JD Powers survey says the Hummer owners are slightly upset at the vehicle's gas mileage.
Umm..
Boy, getting 10 mpg rather than that 12 you had expected is certainly a bummer. Are these folks really that dense? This frickin' car weighs like 9,000 pounds! It has more interior room than my first apartment! A hummer with a gun rack is enough firepower to coup d'etat at least four or five central american nations!
And you pay $50,000 and are worried about gas mileage? It's like griping about the lack low number of cupholders in brother Goodson's BMW Z4.
Morons. A nation of morons. Of rich morons.
Evil triumphs, because good is stupid.
Well, Jenna picking up the $1million was fairly pukey. Talk about a hobson's choice though: vapid jenna or crazy matt. I guess I just don't understand Christy. I mean, somebody did tell her that you wrote down the person you wanted to win, right? Motherdear will be devestated, although not as much as if manboobs bob had won. She thought rob was the nexus of all evil in the universe, but isn't that the lesson we take from the six seasons of survivor? Evil is rewarded with the million bucks, good wins a car.
Z4.
Drove brother Goodson's Z4 this weekend.
Niiiiice.
Mucho boosto, as our south american friends would say. Shift that baby into second and step on the gas. Woooooosh. One problem. The nose is entirely too long. How do I know this? Because I managed to hit the curb while parking in the local donut establishment. Sickening "crunch" sound. Abrupt stop. Nausea. Visions of fratricide.
Relatively unknown BWM safety feature: it is impossible to put one's head behind a tire and commit suicide by releasing the parking brake. Car is too low to the ground to accomodate normal human-sized noggin.
brother Goodson was very understanding. Am only banned from driving said Z4. Can still oogle it and wax once per month.
Okay, that's all for now.
Did the hip among us get the movie reference? As always, emails to Kalezac@gmail.com guarateed to be completely ignored.
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