Terrorist Barbie: She's the Bomb!

Ha!

UPDATE: It would have been funnier to work "Allah Ack-Barbie" into this somehow. Just sort of slipped this one in. No effort, just saw a funny picture. Out.

UPDATE: Would have been funnier to work "Dynamite Vests: One Size Fits Allah" into this somehow. Should have put some thought into it. Out, take 2.

My Prediction: Gooch

I watched the final training montage/fight of Rocky III last night. Was there ever a villain better than Mr. T? Some of the best lines (clearly crowbarred in to the script) ever. "I pity the fool," "My prediction: pain." When Rocky and Clubber Lange get into the mid-round brawl and Lange's corner crew has to hold him back while he screams like a caged bear... fucking brilliant. I cheered him on.

What was Rocky's movie-fight strategy? Let Lange beat on him for three rounds, to tire him out, then beat him up? Taking about 200 punches to the head and body, getting knocked down twice... that's a fight strategy? I'm going to have to go with the eggplant on this one (shitty Italian joke, never mind).

******

I've been informed that the audio post from bed was creepy. I'll try to not make them sound like the rant of a man about to strap a dynamite vest (would be a cool band name) to his chest and visit a day care center.

gooch:out


For absolutely no reason whatsoever...

Beverly Hills Gooch...

Lackeys:

So the media has begun to report something that I tweeted two weeks ago: The knife wielded by the man shot at Hoyt Arboretum was, in fact, an Exacto knife:

It's a "razor knife with a six-inch handle," not a pen knife with a 7/8" blade. Do you realize that our police hire people to sit in a room and write/spin the best way to describe this knife to make it seem more threatening without actually lying? Do you realize that I'm not the most socially involved person on the planet (I donate money to a couple things and I buy Girl Scout cookies, but that's about it. Oh yeah, magazines to the VA) but even I'm a little dismayed at all this?

And then...

BREAKING: Chasse Sergeant In Off-Duty Road Rage—Pulls Gun, Says "Go Ahead And Call The Police."

Holy shit. I, for some reason, completely believe the BMW driver in this case. Even Sergeant "Dirty" Kyle Nice's story doesn't seem to justify getting out of your car and pulling an effing gun. I appreciate that a neighbor spoke to reporters speaking against Nice, calling him the more "aggressive" one and not believing that the situation warranted a gun. If I witnessed it, I would have said that the BMW driver pulled out an AK-47 and Nice somehow Chuck Norrised that shit out of his hand while calculating pi in his head and rescuing a puppy from a tree. Or something. I mean, I'd take the truth and, you know, spin it. 

Anything but the fucking truth. God forbid I get gunned down for carrying a concealed Bic pen.

Interesting Fun Fact: Portland Police Sergeant Kyle Nice's middle name is "Izzent."

Ba Dum Bum

or...

Wah Wah Waaaaaah.

Does your blog have sound effects after bad jokes? That's right, I'm an innovator.

Gooch: Out

Text Fail

Watched a customer leave a shop I work at, only to walk up to my car and snap a picture of my license plate (GOOCH-1). I tried to retire the plates, but screwed up the paperwork at the DMV. Now kids think I have the synonym for 'taint' on my plates. I bet I couldn't get those plates now if I tried. Which I wouldn't.

******

Don't have much to say. I've started to embrace television more. Sarah Silverman, Archer, Blue Mountain State are the funniest shows out right now. I'm also watching educational documentaries as well, to justify my sedentary habit.

John Gallucci 1993: Had Sega Genesis and television hooked up to a "Super Clapper" - Two claps for the television and three claps for the Sega. Controllers were strung to the bed so that I could play Mortal Kombat as soon as I woke up.

John Gallucci 2010: Harmony Remote controls lights in living room, hallway, and in bookshelf. Mortal Kombat vs. DC Comics resides in the PS3. Sleep on the couch more than in bed. Only once have I woke up, grabbed the controller and made playing a video game my first waking action.

[off in the distance, my Mother cries].

******

Transcript [paraphrased] of a text messaging string from last night:

5:00pm

ME: Happy hour at East Burn [restaurant/bar] at 6:15 with [friends]

HER: Nice. I'm exhausted, otherwise I'd join.

ME: Yeah... Just wanted to throw it out.

HER: Thanks! Say hi for me!

ME: Will do.

9:00pm

HER [drunk]: Trivia at the 'Stone [pub, 5 minutes from proposed happy hour] We need you pronto!

I went and we won something for playing trivia. I don't know what the etiquette is for telling someone you're too tired to go out and then calling them later to come out to a bar. Heh... my friends are nuts.

******

Happy Birthday, Gregster. Yesterday.


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