by "Buck"

January 6, 2005

I am not a fan of "Law and Order."  Therefore, the passing of the late
"Scrote" was not nearly as devastating to me as to others, namely the boss Jeff Kay, here on the WVSR.  However, in respect to Scrote fans here on the site I did a little research and came up with some
interesting things about Scrote you may not have known—before he was Scrote.  Scrote was partying at the Copacabana with famed New York mobster Joey Gallo just hours before he was shot dead at Umberto's Clam House in New York City.   Scrote once worked as a chauffeur for Mae West.  My research never revealed if he got a chance to see those big boobs, we can only hope. 

Since I don't watch the show I don't know who the characters Max Greevey or Phil Ceretta are, but he originally tired out for those two roles before settling in as Scrote.  Finally I learned that the New York Landmark Conservancy (WTF?) declared him a Living Landmark.  I guess he's been stripped of THAT title…but how cool is it to become a landmark? I mean do little kids climb on you and people pay to tour the inside?   Just what are the criteria for being a "landmark?"  Perhaps in New York when you ask for directions they are doled out like this: "Yo, inbred muttha fucka, you go down E Street to 42nd, hang a left at the deli, pass the Chinese food store, and make another left at Scrote, ya piece of shit." Rest in peace Scrote.  I never knew you.

So I learned the other day my gym/health teacher from 9th grade won $77,777 in the Virginia Lottery.   His daughter bought him the scratch off ticket for Christmas.  The Virginia Lottery has 7 of these
Jackpot tickets and he was the 5th to get one.  I remember the guy
well.  He used to teach health class while smoking a cigarette—classic.  One time I took a finger in the eye while playing
basketball.  The guy's fingernail cut my eyeball, causing it to bleed
to the point I couldn't see.  The fucker told me to go take a shower
and I'd be okay.  I wound up spending two days in the hospital.

Did anyone see the Chick-fil-A Commercial on the Peach Bowl?   There were several, but the most priceless was the one that involved a cow in full swimming regalia—goggles and all—jumping off a diving board and drowning everybody around the pool, including the grill man with his burgers.

I saw something about the best commercials of the year the other day. My favorite was from ESPN where the woman walks in and obviously smells something.  She checks her shoes, the trash, and starts walking through the house—still looking for the source.   SportCenter is playing on the TV and you see a guy peaking around a door from a seated position—obviously taking a Hiroshima shit.  Gotta love it.

I can tell I'm getting old.  On New Year's Eve my mom served us all a
goblet of wine.  Unusual for my house, since we rarely have adult
beverages—but Mom apparently thinks New Year's Eve is a special enough occasion to booze it up.   She and my dad recently returned from California and brought back a bottle of some fancy pants California chardonnay or whatever.    That's what I got, my brother was served the good stuff….manischewitz!  I took one sip and recoiled with a gag reflex nearly vomiting on my mom's carpet.   IN college it would have taken five hours and at least 30-beers to accomplish that. I can drink the mani-whatever wine if I must..but given my choice, I'll take a swig of Uncle Humpy's Homebrew anytime. An old woman way up in the Mountains of West Virginia served us a sample of some homemade dandelion wine.  Best shit you'll ever taste, guaranteed. That shit from California was like drinking kerosene.  However, I'll be the first to tell you I'm not a wine tasting expert..but I know what I like.

I got my truck back from the shop, it looks brand new and drives
fairly well with the new FRAME!  Trust me, you don't know pain until
you pony up a 500-dollar deductible the week AFTER Christmas.  Holy
shit that hurt.

I get incredibly pissed off at the pussified nature of our society.  We've become a nation of fuck-ups.   I'm watching the Today Show as I write this and Katie Couric is speaking with Dr. Phil about how to
shield our kids from the trauma of watching the Tsunami Coverage.
What in the hell?   When I was a kid I saw all kinds of horrible shit
on TV—I survived.  Life is full of trauma, one must learn to deal
with it and accept it as part of life.  Our entire nation has become
a bunch of nail biting pansies who can't think for themselves, can't
do for themselves, and is convinced that something is wrong with
them—or going to be wrong with them.  There is an entire industry
created around scaring the living shit out of people.  We're supposed
to be worried that our kids will be traumatized, we should worry that
eating high fat will kill us, being fat will kill us, trying to get
unfit through Atkins will kill us.  Guess what…I've got a newsflash
for you people—WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE!  We've got medicine to make us happy, medicine to calm us down, medicine to make us horny, medicine to make us NOT horny.  We've got "experts" on everything from bed wetting to penis envy.  We're inventing shit to be wrong with us like "restless leg syndrome."      Sometimes I want this bus called life to stop and let me off because it's obviously the short bus.

Buck Out

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