halloween

I suppose I have to write obligatory the happy halloweeen message. But ever since I was 12 years old, the last time I ever tick or treated,  Halloween became just another day to me. If I want some candy, I can just go to the store and buy some without totally degrading myself by begging like some common panhandler. Also, when I buy my own candy, I can buy whatever I want, like a true member of a  capitalist economy, and not take whatever happens to be offered to me, wheter I like it or not, like some socialist scrub.

I wish I have some humorous story to relate to you about my great Halloween costumes of the past, but 98% of my Halloween costumes  that I ever worn was a set of my dad’s old army fatigues and a quick dash of fake blood. It’s not like I never wanted to dress as something else, this costume just happened to be ecomonical and easy for a family who just didn’t give a flying fuck one way or another about the holiday in the first place.

Besides, Halloween means only two things to me these days. First, death metal bands always try to release new albums around this date and secondly, it means that my birthday is just around the corner.  Gimme them presents! Even if I end up buying them myself and even if it means that I buy those new death metal albums mentioned above.

jareddriskill

random item tuesday

1. I’ve witnessed, this past weekend, the funniest single half hour of television, like, ah, ever. No, it is not the “Rick James” episode of Chappelle Show, this single episode is funnier, if you can believe it. I am speaking of, naturally, the immortal Episode 6, Series 3 of Father Ted entitled “Kicking Bishop Brennan Up The Arse.” I have never laughed so hard watching an episode of a sitcom before in my life. I was laughing so hard when I first watched it, that I had to pause my dvd in the middle of the episode for a fifteen minute laugh break. Jesus, it was fucking brilliant.

Last night, I had a American History midterm exam and while I was in the middle of writing an short essay about the importance of the supreme court ruling on “Marbury vs. Madison,” I had thought of a scene from “Kicking Bishop Brennan Up The Arse” and I began to laugh so hard, that I was almost thrown out of the class and given an zero on the exam. Of course, if this had happened, I wouldn’t have been too upset because that particular episode was so funny, it would’ve been well worth the zero.

P.S.The Eurovision song contest episode of Father Ted was pretty damn brilliant,too. I find myself singing the lyrics of “My Lovely Horse” on a regular basis since I have watched it.

2. More cruelty from so called “animal lovers.” I was driving home from work today and I saw a guy wearing a PETA t-shirt riding his bike while walking his 6 month old puppy. “Walking” being a loose, vague term for what was actually going on. The Puppy was being dragged along more than he was “walking.” Now, I’m hardly a dog lover myself, but I stopped at the corner and yelled back at the dude on his bike: “What the fuck you think you are doing dragging that puppy along like that!?”

“Taking my puppy for a fucking walk!” The Mensa president replied. ( He must be the the president of Mensa, I’m supposing, because he’s walking his puppy while he’s riding a dirt bike. What a fucking genius!)

I wish there was an satisfactory ending to this story but there wasn’t: the light turned green and the car behind me pressed down long and hard on his horn to get me to drive away.

3. Hey, speaking of dogs, there are such things as leash laws in this great nation of ours. Sometime last week, I was walking back home from class, when some punk rock guy and his dog ( a pit bull mix weight somewhere from 60-75 pounds) turned the corner and walked in my direction. When the dog noticed me, he growled, reared up, ran and then proceeded to jump directly at me. I had enough time to cock my fist back and threw a punch that landed squarely on the dog’s throat. ( I was aiming for its snout so I can break it’s teeth or jaw, by the way.) The dog landed on his ass, made a weird choking noise and looked like didn’t know to whether shit or wind his wristwatch. It would’ve been sort of amusing in a way if it hadn’t just tried to attack me.

The punk rock dude, who made no attempt to control his dog during it’s attack, ran up in my face and demanded to know why I had punched his dog because, I quote, “my dog doesn’t bite.” I told him I didn’t know what his dog could or could not do and that I had the right to defend myself from a potential attack from an unknown dog because dogs don’t normally make long, running leaps towards people for no fucking reason at all. Besides, what the fuck are you doing walking a large dog like that with out a fucking leash? What if your dog jumped and attacked a small child instead of me?

Yeah, I know that the situation could’ve gotten really ugly, but I somehow made punk rock guy realize that he was in the wrong by not being able to control his dog in the first place. It pays to know what the law says.

jareddriskill

dream log #16

I am watching an old episode of Alfred Hitchcock Presents on my tv. This is the part of the show where hitch does his dark humor opening monologue bit. In this particular episode Hitch is being tied to the hands of a giant clock when the big hand is at the six. “Enemy” spies are grilling him and demanding that he reveal is story behind “Lie # 13.” ( For some reason, in this dream, I associate “Lie” with the word “Secret.”)

But Hitch is adamant to not to speak to the enemy spies as the hand of the clock moves up to the number seven, he then notices the viewer and addresses them. “Good evening. These enemy spies seem to think that I know the story behind “lie #13,” but I haven’t the foggiest idea. In return, for my silence, they’ve strapped me to his ridiculously large clock which will cause a bomb to explode when it reaches 12. In the meantime, let’s hear a word from our sponsor.”

The episode then jumps to the post show monologue and Hitch is still tied to the clock which is still stuck at the number seven. Below Police officers are arresting the enemy spies. “Oh well, those enemy spies didn’t know that my current, ah, stature would buy me all the time I needed to be rescued.”

good night.

jareddriskill

polygamist family

I totally ran into a Polygamist family yesterday. Holy multiple matrimony, batman!

I had pulled into a gas station yesterday morning and there were two huge passenger vans with out of state plates parked at the pumps. I normally would’ve ignored this fact but inside, and running around, the two vans were about 15 children of various ages and two slightly attractive women one older and one slightly younger (at least they would’ve been attractive if they wore make up and stopped wearing long denim skirts, that is)  trying to corral them.
Both of the mothers were yelling at the kids, “just wait till your father comes out.” Then I noticed that some of the kids looked like one mother and others looked like the other. When I saw the older woman grab a child that looked like he belonged to the younger one, and said “daddy is going have to discipline you!” I decided to stall my visit at the gas pump for a few minutes longer by beginning washing my windshield, even though it was still raining outside.

I was checking the oil in my vehicle (for the second time) when “daddy” walked out of the gas station, I was greatly let down: he looked like your run of the mill homeless alcoholic. (I figured he would at least look half way decent to be able to land two wives.) The womens personalities changed like a switch had been flipped and they both paid him obeisance and called him honey before they kissed him on the lips. Then all the children instantly lined up like a army platoon and called him daddy before they drove off.  Wow.

That really blew my mind, because that old worthless looking piece of shit could command such respect and fear out of those women and children, (who were probably fathered because he forced himself on his wives.)   Man, I’m somewhat jealous of that bastard.

jareddriskill

week 28

I have no funny anecdote to kick off this week’s Best of Soul Train review, I’ll try harder in the future to have one for you. Is that ok?

This week, we had another blast from the distant polyester and denim past. (aka 1974!) The fashion key phrase for the Soul Train Gang this week was: canary yellow pimp suit! It took alot of guts to pull that look off, but it worked for that particular member of the Soul Train Gang who wore it this week. Well done, my good man, whoever you are! Meanwhile, the Soul Train Gang danced on down to “Let’s Get Married Today” by Al Green, “Can You Handle It,” by Grand Central Station, “I’m In Love, Yes I Am” by Aretha Franklin and “You Set My Soul On Fire” by the Temptations.

The Soul Train Scramble Board went unanswered in time, in a Soul Train Scramble Board segment shocker! (GASP!) I don’t blame the two Soul Train Gang members for their flub, the solution this week was “Bill Withers.” (Whoever the hell he was.) Meanwhile, the Soul Train Gang went wild during “Come Get Your Love” by Redbone.

This week’s musical guest stars:

1. Kool and The Gang! I noticed that the “gang” in their band name had great stage presence, with the exception of their guitar player, Clay Smith, who had zero stage presence. He just stood there like a rock while everyone else in the band was “getting down,” which brought their overall performance down a notch. (For shame, Clay Smith, for shame.) Kool and The Gang performed three songs: “Can’t Get Enough Of That Funky Stuff,” “Hollywood Swinging” and their then smash hit, “Jungle Boogie.” During the performance of which, their special guest vocalist did a really half assed lip syncing job.

2. Al Wilson! Performing “Touch and Go” and the beautiful ballad, “One Broken Home.” During his interview segment, I noticed that Al Wilson had a hell of a time trying to remember the names of his female back up singers, even the super ugly white one.

3. Natural 4! Don Cornelius’ “safe bet for “superstardom” performed one song, “A Love That’s Really Kind” (?) I’m sorry that I didn’t catch the title of this particular song because I was running back from the kitchen when Don Cornelius mumbled the song title during his introduction. I believe their career trajectory into superstardom stalled during their very disturbing group interview with Don Cornelius. One of the singers in the group told Don Cornelius that he wears a solitary bell shaped earring because if anyone wants to “ring his bell,” they can come up any time and ring it. Thank god that Don had the sense to end the interview right then and there before it got ugly.

The Soul Train Line: “For the Love of Cash Money” by the O’Jay’s. There was a hilarious moment during this segment where some guy danced for one second, messed up, and then quickly walked through the rest of the line like nothing ever happened. I laughed so hard when this happened, that my roommate ran into the room to see what the fuss was all about. Of course, by then, he was too late to get the joke.

Don Cornelius kept the interviews short by cutting them off before they got to be potentially too embarrassing, for example: the interview with Natural 4. So, he didn’t have the chance to fuck an interview up with one of his ill thought out remarks. I am mighty proud of Don Cornelius’ behavior this week, mighty proud.

Well, that just did it for this week on the sweetest ride in America! As alway, in parting, on the behalf of Don Cornelius, The Soul Train Gang and myself: love, peace and SOUL!

jareddriskill

tips for driving in the rain

I don’t have much time to write today, but I’d like to remind those among my faithful reading several about what you are supposed to do on the road, by law, when it is raining. I know we have been in long severe drought and maybe you had forgotten what rain was, but thankfully, I have long memory on matters such as this.

1. Turn on your headlights. It’s dark outside and visibility is near zero, so this should really be a no-brainer.  Then again, I could be wrong, I suppose there are a large number of you people out there who have a secret death wish that I don’t know about. If this is the case, I do not want to be involved in your sick fantasies.

2. Cut 10-15 miles off your normal driving speed. The roads are slick because they are wet (duh!) and you motherfuckers out there are all worse drivers that you all believe you are.  Just because you watch Nascar, it doesn’t mean that you are automatically a superb driver, if you were, you’d be racing in Nascar, not watching it at home in a drunken stuper week after week. As a matter of fact, now that I think about it, Nascar doesn’t even race in the rain! If you are true Nascar fan, and I know that you are by your bumper stickers,  I suggest that you refuse to drive in the rain too.

3. Clam down. I suppose another reason you drive like a maniac in the rain is that all of you also have complete and total faith in the quality of work of the auto mechanic who installed your breaks. I have faith my auto mechanic too, but I don’t want to find out that he did a half ass job when I’m careening around a dark, sharp curve at 100 miles per hour.

So, next time when you have to drive and it’s raining cats and dogs outside, remember this: Please don’t kill me! I mean, you can go ahead and kill someone else, I don’t care, just as long as it is not me.

jareddriskill

dream log #15

I don’t remember the dream I had last night per se, but I did wake up this mornign laughing to myself and muttering “you’re fucking ridiculous!” Who is the “you’re” I was referring to: another person or myself? And what was this other person, or myself, was doing that was so ridiculous? We shall never know.

jareddriskill

random item tuesday

1. Jeez, there are forest wildfires out west! Again! Didn’t I write about this topic this past summer?I think I wrote about how forest wild fires happen out west every year and if they were smart, they would have controlled fires every so often so that there wouldn’t so so much kindling to add fuel to the wildfires and thus making them ever so harder to fight? I believe I did.

It’s like people in Florida who lose their homes to hurricances every year. If you lose your home to a hurricane once, I might feel sorry for you, but year after year? You can forget about it, that means you are a dumb ass for rebuilding in a hurricane zone.

2. The state of Virginia is in middle of a severe drought and there are strict water restrictions statewide. With this fact in place I have this story to tell: While I was at work today I caught some moron trying to water his lawn on a day he shouldn’t been watering. (Tisk tisk.) I asked the Harvard graduate watering the yard, Doctor Faded Dale Jr T-Shirt Wearing Drunk Redneck, why he was watering his yard during a water restriction. His reply to me was an ever so succinct: “I’m trying to grow some fucking grass, you fucking nosy asshole!”

Now, I have admit that I’m no gardening expert by any means, but I didn’t think you can grow grass on an exposed hard red clay yard using only water, and 15 years worth of dead leaves, rotted acorns, assorted car parts and dog shit. He sone sure showed me!

3. I guess I have to put my two cents in on the new Radiohead album, which I haven;t heard, being available only by download at any price the consumer “feels” he should pay for the album. I suppose it was going to happen sooner or later and that Radiohead is the only band with enough gravitas to pull such a pioneering stunt off. But I feel that there a few flaws to the band’s logic.

One being that what if enough people end up downloading the album for free and bankrupt the band, or at the very least make the album a money losing prospect for the band? If a big name band such as Radiohead loses money, what chance does any of the new up and coming bands have trying to forgo the middle man? ( i.e. record labels.)

Another complaint is what is the sound quality of the MP3 being downloaded? From what I understand most MP3’s have lousy sound quality because the music file is so compressed that nuances are lost in the music. ( The reason why I’m holding out buying an I-pod.) Now I know that 99.99% of the people of the world could care less about the sound quality of the music they downloaded, but I do because I’m an asshole like that.

Speaking of being total stickler, is that I feel that something is lost when you listen to an album or a song without seeing the album artwork. I’m one of the (crazy) few who actually thinks that the album artwork can take away or enhance the music listening experience. I know I used to make some of my friends crazy when I would refuse to listen to dubbed cassettes of albums I didn’t own. “What do you mean you won’t listen to it, jareddriskill? I thought you liked My Sisters Machine and I quote you directly: you couldn’t wait to hear their new album, and now you are giving me all this bullshit about not seeing the album artwork?!?! You’re fucking unbelievable!”

Um, okay I was only joking when I referenced My Sisters Machine just now, (nobody had ever liked them) but you get the point.

jareddriskill

bedsit sunday morning

Terry sits on his bed in his small, one room apartment half way paying attention to the radio, he doesn’t know why he even bothers with this weekly ritual because the local radio stations only plays religious and Spanish language programming on Sunday mornings. Terry doesn’t care about religion, which he thinks is a boring subject if you are under the age of 80, and he can only make out a few words here or there on the Spanish station using his four years of half forgotten high school Spanish and many years of trying to decipher menus while eating out at Mexican restaurants.

Terry turns off his radio and stares at the clutter of clothes, liquor bottles, beer bottles and the endless  supply of cigarette butts scattered on his floor. He reclines back on his bed while ruminating about his life and how it suddenly became so empty and trivial. He has lived the wild, reckless “rock n roll life” style he has dreamt about since he was a small child. The clubs, parties, the drugs, the booze, the girls, the irresponsibility. All of Terry’s “friends” eventually given up on this life style. They slowly one by one, went to school, got careers, even started families, but not Terry, oh no, life was too short to be held down like that. Terry was living his dream, but he wondered, what had went wrong to make him feel so empty?

Exhaling deeply, Terry turns his head to look at the cracked full length mirror on the wall beside him and laughed to him self because now the answer was now completely apparent. Terry sat up grabbed his keys and a pack of cigarettes and walked confidently out of his apartment. Twenty minutes later, he walked back in with a small package in his hands and went straight to work.

Before the hour was over, Terry was staring into the mirror that stood over his combination bathroom/kitchen sink and smiles at the new person staring back at him. “They are right,” Terry marveled, “blonds do have more fun!”

the 2007 mazda miata mx-5

I visited my father the other night and he drove up to his house driving a brand spanking new gunmetal grey largish looking stylish sunglasses case. He told me that he drove by the Mazda dealership, saw the car and bought it on the spot the night before (would one of my faithful reading several please remind me to apply to law school once I get my bachelors degree?) and…. would I like to take it for a spin around the block? I said yes, figuring that I have never done a car review before on this website.

The Mazda Miata MX-5 has some remarkable, to me at least,  special features such as the key less ignition. Instead of a set of jangling keys that end up stabbing you in the thigh when you walk down the stree,t you are given a sensor that is the size and width of a small stack of credit cards. Once you enter the vehicle, the car scans the driver for the sensor and starts. (Oh, what would ever happen to my fictional recurring character, Brent, if he had lost his car sensor instead of his keys?) The steering wheel has the Formula One style upshift/downshift levers which probably would come in handy if my father had bought a 5 speed manual instead of an automatic….

Oh, is that carbon fibre on the dash board? Only the owners manual, which I didn’t read, knows for sure.

How the car drive, you may ask? Despite the fact that I drive like an extra careful old woman, the low centre of gravity on the Mazda Miata MX-5 gives you the illusion of high speed going around curves and corners. “Look at me I’m mahfucking Stirling Moss or something!”

There is another psychological factor that comes along with driving the Mazda Miata MX-5, and that is the sense of superiority that you feel when drive past some depressed looking, living paycheck to paycheck joe blow driving a 10 year old beat up Honda Accord. (“Ha ha, you worthless bastard! You’re 40 years old and you’re still a fry cook at McDonalds!”) Is this how rich people feel on a regular basis? If so, I’m now dedicating the rest of my life to acquiring all the moolah I can get my grubby mitts on, because that feeling feels really fucking great! So get out of my way, I gotta get what’s coming to me!

jareddriskill