Last Dump Of 2005

I haven't checked yet, but I'm sure I did some sort of New Year’s resolution blog last year. No doubt it was witty and hilarious. And I'm about to do another one for this year. So get ready.

But first of all, I just had a disturbing thought after writing that last paragraph. So it's been over a year since I have been writing this blog? Good god. Why me? Why anyone? (to paraphrase a figure skater). I'm not even sure if anyone even reads it anymore. I originally started doing this as a test for my nephew who was setting up his own blog. But I think even The Cod God has grown weary of blogging judging by how rare his posts are these days.

I've totally exhausted all the subject matters that I write about. And I'm too lazy and uncreative to come up with new ones. I can only go on so much about what a pile of poop our simian commander-in-chief is before eyes start to roll and snoring sounds are heard in cyber space. Besides others, like The Rude Pundit, do it so much better.

What to do? Should I keep doing this stupid blog? Should I actually put some effort into it instead of my usual 5 minute rant? But it is a web log after all, not a creative writing assignment. I could easily live without it. And it would give me 5 extra minutes a day in which to rough up the suspect. What do you guys think? Huh? Hello, hello. Is this thing on? Is anyone out there? (cue cricket chirping)

Anyway, back to the New Year’s resolution thing. Let’s see, I could do the usual ones like go to the gym, loose weight, quit drinking, cut down on smoking crack, etc. But I'm Wheel Gun Bob so I must come up with something wacky for my new year’s resolution to entertain you guys, assuming that there is a "you guys." So here is a list of possibilities:

1. Quit drinking. Diet soda that is. I pound down at least a six pack of 20oz'ers a day. It's my nervous habit. I go to the non-caffeinated variety after 6PM so I'm not up all night. But I hear that the shit in diet soda is basically formaldehyde. Would you want to preserve yourself forever if you were me? I didn't think so.

2. Quit whining about politics and do something about it. I kid myself that I'm actually involved because I write about politics in this blog fairly frequently. I think I will start writing letters to the newspapers again. Did you know that I was banned from writing any more letters to The Manchester Union Leader? I was in high school at the time. Maybe I will run for some sort of office. Ya, right. I wouldn’t survive even the mildest of swift-boating because I would shoot back with real guns.

3. Be positive. I'm as gloomy and pessimistic a person as you will ever meet. Hell, I worry about asteroids hitting the earth in a thousand years and our sun dying in a few billion years. Don't even get me started on nuclear bombs or bird flu. It will be tough to change. I will start by watching Oprah and reading books by that Doctor with the big head.

4. Put more effort into my band Jupiter 2. This one won't be hard. I think just one practice will do it. But seriously, I want to work on some new songs and maybe record something this year. Maybe do a split 10" with The Tunnel Rats?

5. Get laid for real. This Flesh Flashlight just ain't cuttin it.

Well, there you go. A man’s entire hope, dreams and aspirations in a few short words. I tell you, what other blog can give you that? Huh? Huh? (cue wind blowing and tumble weed)

Christmas On Uranus

So I'm at work the Friday before Christmas. No one else is here except some weirdo engineers. My job tonight is to back up all the servers that normally get backed up during the weekend since no IT people will be on site the next couple days. Havin' a good time, wishin' you were here.

In between trying to figure out how to do all this backing up shit with out blowing anything up, I will fill you with a little holiday cheer by giving you a present. Go ahead, open it up. There you go. What is it? A blog! Just what you've always wanted! And not just any blog (although any blog from me is a treat), a "random thoughts" blog! So here we go:

Fuck Johnny Damon with a zwill covered 36" Roberto Clemente Louisville slugger. I had to break the news to a little 5 year old girl that Johnny was gone and, worse yet, gone to the baddest team there is. She exclaimed "Johnny went to the Yankees!" and started crying. So ole Johnny is on my permanent shit list. Johnny, I hope you run head long into Hideki Godzilla's crotch while trying to chase down a fly ball in your first game with the Yanks and brain yourself good. Wait, you don't have any brains. And apparently no heart either.

I feel so bad for Tony Dungy. His kid committed suicide. I know first hand what that can do a family. Tony will never be the same. No amount of super bowl wins will ever make him happy again. I'm thinking of you dude.

On a lighter note, I won't be dissing the trained baboon masquerading as our president in this blog, lucky you. But I wonder what the jackass wants for Christmas. Perhaps a crown and a robe.

Did you know that they've discovered more rings and moons around Uranus? It now has something like 27 moons. When I was a kid, I had all the names of the planetary moons memorized. Now there are far too many. Do you realize this was the first time ever that I did not make a scatological/anatomical joke about Uranus?

My family always makes eggnog for Christmas get-togethers. I suspect it contains nitromethene. I remember as a kid getting a buzz just sitting near the bowl. I don't really like eggnog, but I will have a sip on occasion. I think I'm still a little drunk from last years sip.

Speaking of famdamily, Christmas Eve will be at the Cod God's and Cog Gal's. We do the Yankee swap thing which is always a riot. Last year I brought a gift certificate for Sea Monkeys. The year before that was a brick of .22s. I'm still not certain what I will bring this year. I might just print out all my blogs for the year and make them into a book and add illustrations. That's sure to be popular.

Wheel Gun Mika's husband, Lumber Yard Dennis, dresses up as Santa and scares the shit out of all the little kids at the gathering. And we all have plenty of eggnog.

Well, I'd better get back to what I was doing. I need to start paying attention. If I do certain things out of order, I will be unemployed for Christmas. But if I get them done right, I might be able to leave early. Wish me luck.

Merry Happy Christ Holidays Mas!!!

My Lousy Mood, Your Good Fortune

Your hero Wheel Gun Bob is in a very foul mood. This is generally not a good thing! However, it may result in a witty and endearing blog for the benefit of you, my adoring fans. Why am I in a bad mood? My knee hurts, it's winter, I'm poor, I’m at work, Christmas is a week away and I have a million things to do and I have not had my tadger deep-throated in ages. Enough to kill anyone's buzz.

Today's blog will focus on two things, one that’s very good constitutionally and one that’s very bad constitutionally. Plus there will be my usual peppering of hilarious scatological and sexual innuendos and double entendres. You are in for a treat! So go get a stiff drink and some paper towels and read on, my good people.

First the bad. It looks like we should start referring to President Bush as King Bush. He can pretty much do what ever he wants now. He can spy on any citizen without getting any sort of warrant or approval. Sounds a little big brotherish, no? I think North Korea can do this to their little comrades. I think Fidel does it to anyone who might possibly disagree with him. So where is the conservative outrage? They should be howling with disbelief louder than yaks goosed with pressure treated 4x4s! Talk about governmental abuse and intrusion! Good God.

Two things to consider, you rightwing bitches: 1. They might want to take your guns next. Hey, they don't give a shit about the rest of the constitution so why would there care about the second amendment? Gotta keep those guns away from the terrorists you know. 2. Bush won’t be president forever. So, would you want your evil nemesis Hillary to have all these powers if she ever became president? What’s good for the goose is good for the power hungry lesbian liberal gander. I can almost hear all of you madly clutching at your suddenly incontinent sit-upons.

Our government is so fucked up right now its almost laughable. One party rule will do that. Bush brazenly gets away with just about anything he wants so long as those upper income tax cuts keep coming. Tricky Dick would be so proud. Our founding fathers would be horrified. You guys going to do anything about it? Huh? Huh? At least I write a blog.

The next thing made me so happy, I almost whistled "Happy Days Are Here Again" out my asshole. The idea that intelligent design (ID) should be taught as science in school biology classes was summarily butt raped by a very intelligent judge in Pennsylvania. He used the term "breathtaking inanity" to describe the Dover Pa school board’s decision to include ID in the school's biology curriculum. As well he should have. ID is not science! It's not subject to contradicting evidence (in other words, not a testable hypothesis as all things in science need to be by definition) since you can't prove an intelligent designer doesn't exist. And it deals with the supernatural (God) not the natural which is the purview of science. Nothing wrong with religious faith, it just ain't science. Let ID be discussed in theology class. In your faith, Christian Taliban! Stick to hassling the homos. Actually don’t. Leave them the fuck alone too.

Speaking of Christ, you folks should now consider what to get me for Christmas. Here is my wish list:

1. A new left knee.
2. Big ole bottles of booze.
3. A Kimber Ultra Carry.
4. A Jennifer Garner calendar.
5. A Thompson Center Firestorm.
6. A gift certificate to Ten’s in Salisbury.
7. The Star Wars DVD Boxed Set.
8. The Cum Guzzling Freaks DVD Boxed set Vols 7-10.
9. A Newegg.com gift certificate.
10. Some cashews or macadamia nuts.
11. Mystery Oil.
12. Cash.

There, my moods a little better now.

Go Ahead. Eat My Nuts. Make My Day.

The evil fat squirrel is at it again. The furry fucker is constantly gorging himself in preparation for a long winter. The next ice age must be upon us judging by his girth. If he ever stood on a talking scale it would say "Get the fuck off!"

The fur covered bowling ball decided he just had to have the bird seed in our bird feeder which was hanging in our breeze way. He got up on one of the trellises and somehow jumped the three feet or so to the feeder. Of course his considerable weight brought the thing crashing down. I'm sure the event was registered on the local university's seismometers.

I got home just as he was stuffing his fat cheeks with bird seed on the floor of the breezeway, in between the two broken halves of the feeder. I flipped out. I started after the mangy little menace while screaming obscenities that would make Howard Stern blush.

You should have seen the fat little rat take off. He jumped up on the trellis and then from there on to the roof of the garage. He turned around to see how close I was and then slipped and fell off into a bush. I came this close to nabbing the buck-toothed bastard.

Well, it’s got to stop. And here is my plan. I’m going to get some cashews or macadamia nuts and put them on the breezeway. Then I will remove the storm widow from the kitchen door. I will pull up a chair and wait inside. With me, I will have the following – a can of spray-paint, a lighter and a six-pack of Bud pounders. I will sit there quaffing the beers until the offending rodent appears and starts porking down on those choice nuts. Whilst engaged in the orgiastic feeding frenzy, he won’t notice me as I light the lighter and point the can of spray-paint at him. Then WOOSH! Just like a flame thrower. Crispy critter!

I will try to set up my video camera and record this momentous event and put a clip on this blog for your horror/entertainment.

Knees Down Mother Brown

Man, I have a new respect for the Cod God (how often do you hear that?). The guy’s been on disability for over two years due to blowing his back out while working as a fisherman. I'm out for one lousy week because of my damned knee and I'm ready to off myself. It got so bad, I was actually dreaming about work! There is nothing worse than not being able to move or do anything. My roomies had to wait on me hand and foot. It was less fun than blowing dead porcupines. Actually, I couldn’t have blown much of anything even with knee pads.

After three years the doctors have decided its not bursitis or gout I suffer from after all. It's the tendon in my kneecap that’s about to snap like a cheap thong. The first bozo I saw this time around wanted to give me a cortisone shot. Just touching the kneecap sent me through the roof so I couldn't even imagine a needle in the same room. I said “fuck that!” And it’s a good thing that shot didn't happen according to the next sawbone I saw. Could have weakened the area even more.

Now they might have to operate on it. I will strenuously try to avoid that. We all know how going under the knife has improved Cod God's life. I think his doctors secretly get together and devise new tortures for him all the time. Maybe someone should alert John McCain.

I’m going through physical therapy and taking anti-inflammatory drugs. It still hurts like hell but I can bend my leg enough to get into a car now. Only trouble is my car is a manual and that necessitates pushing in a clutch which I can’t do. So I have to borrow my roommate’s damned looser cruiser mini-van. Gets half the mileage and makes people think I’m a family man. That’s no way to get chicks. Goddammit.

Happy Holidays!

I love the way fucking shit head Republicans like Bill O'Reilly have invented this fictional "war on Christmas." I guess you are not allowed to wish anyone "Happy Holidays" anymore lest you are accused of being "anti Christian." A weird version of political correctness, no? Well, they can all go fuck themselves with a cross made of pressure treated 2X4s. I will say what ever the fuck I want. From now on, I'm going to wish people "Merry CHRIST-ON-A-GODDAMNED-CROSS mas." I hate these rightwing Christian Taliban fuckholes. They sure as hell better watch out when Christ returns. He will turn them all into pillars of salt although that’s an upgrade from the piles of shit they are.

Spancil Hill

I was surfing the web other day and came across this. It's a clip from an Irish TV show that features two of my favorite performers, Christy Moore (used to be with Planxty and has been solo for many years) and Shane McGowan (you know, of the Pogues - they make my top five best bands ever) doing my all time favorite Irish song "Spancil Hill." My chubby still hasn't gone down.

It's an old traditional song about someone who left Ireland during or just after the "great hunger" to go to California during the gold rush. I will check Wikipedia.org, but I think the potato famine was 1847 or 1848 and the gold rush was of course 1849. Anyway, it's about a guy so lonely for his native Ireland, he has a dream/fantasy that takes him to his home half way across the world.

Last night as I lay dreaming of pleasant days gone by
My mind being bent on rambling to Ireland I did fly
I stepped on board a vision and I followed with the wind
And I shortly came to anchor at the cross of Spancil Hill

"I stepped on board a vision and I followed with the wind." What a great line. I get goose bumps every time I hear this song. So check it out and enjoy it (well worth the 9MB download). It's got a typical powerful, sad minor key chord progression you hear in so many songs from the Emerald Isle.

You can tell by the condition of Shane's dentition that this clip was probably from the mid 90's. That was a lot of drinks ago. By the way, every time I try to go see the fucker, he never shows up. Must be afraid of me or something.

Sorry there was nothing scatological or obscene in this blog. I will try harder tomorrow.