Holy
crap in a Bundt pan...
Due to the
recent well-publicized shortage of
amateur websites produced by assholes who consider themselves to be
clever, I
have been called into action. My name is Jeff Kay, and I’m an
Ugly American living
on the cusp of a mid-life crisis, near Scranton, PA. And I’m here to
serve, baby.
The
State of My Fat Ass A journal of
sorts, updated every once in a while.
--
And here we are. A little later than I'd planned, but what are you
going to do? We ended up going out for dinner last night, quaffed a
cuppa two tree Harps, then it was time to free-fall into the couch and
watch Homicide on DVD.
I've been renting those things from Netflix, and Toney is completely
hooked. Even more than I am. In fact, she suggested we buy this and, as
far as I can tell, she wasn't joking. My friend Brad says Homicide
is the best TV show in the history of the medium, and I'm not prepared
to argue about it. How did it get past me when it was originally on? Oh, that's
right, it was during the Atlanta record weasel "lost weekend."
Never mind.
So anyway, that's why I didn't post anything on Friday night, and the
reason for this ultra-rare Saturday update. If you'd like your money
back, the request forms are available in .pdf format here.
-- In addition to putting together that crazy Martha Stewart Rubik's
Cube of a "media tower" this weekend, I'm feeling a powerful
hankering for Kimberly's famous Beer Drinker's Bean Pot. You might
remember that she posted the recipe in the comments section a while back
as a "birthday present" to me, and I actually waddled into the
kitchen and cooked up a big batch of the stuff. And it was good, mighty
good.
Kimberly claims it's a fartless dish, but I'm not going to hold that
against it. (Results were inconclusive during initial field studies.) The
weather is cold up here and I'm feeling the pull. So tonight I'll soak
the beans, a step that was left out the first time 'round, and tomorrow
everything will be simmering on low all day and filling the house with
its beany goodness.
And you just can't go wrong with beany goodness.
-- On Thursday we watched Wednesday's episode of LOST, and it
wasn't very good. Am I allowed to say that? Is it blasphemy? I don't
know. But if they don't get back to basics soon, meaning the core group
of characters and the old feel, I predict the show won't be around much
longer. Because, you know, of the sucking.
It was great to see Calamity Jane, though. I hope she becomes a regular,
because LOST could use a drunken, foul-mouthed, part-time
lesbian. In fact, now that I think about it.... every show could.
-- Here's Mel Sharples hollering at
Charlie Hustle about aftershave lotion, before breaking into song. Yes,
you read that correctly.
-- And this is the view from my boss's office,
along with the corresponding view from mine.
-- Buck sent this to me, and claims it's my kitchen after I take your
advice and install the new countertops myself. I'm simply buckled over
in laughter.
-- Do you ever listen to the George Noory radio show? I've just recently
begun tuning in, via the internet, and it reminds me a little of the old
Larry King overnight program. The whole thing is populated by nutcases
and crackpots, and is just highly entertaining.
Earlier this week, for instance, he had a guest on who claims there are
exactly 10,000 people on the Earth who will never die. They've always
been here, he says, and always will be. He went through a confusing,
long-winded explanation of all this, and I can't begin to tell you what
he said; I wasn't able to unravel the vast tapestry of crazy. And he was saying it all in an
earnest tone, and being treated as completely credible and an esteemed
expert.
Great fun.
-- One or more of you good folks have suggested a website to me called
CD Baby. I checked it out, and it looks pretty cool. As best as I can
tell, they sell compact discs from tiny labels and individuals, then pay
royalties that are much higher than the industry standard. A wonderful concept.
The thing that blew my mind, though, is that they supposedly sell CDs by
the legendary power-pop band Shoes. Those things are long out-of-print,
and cost a wheelbarrow full of cash -- when you can find 'em. But CD
Baby offers the entire catalog at $14.99 each. It seemed almost too good
to be true.
This is the one I want the most, and it was listed as out of stock the
first time I looked. So I signed up to receive an email when they got
more. A few days ago the message arrived, and I immediately ordered a
copy. Then, an hour or so later I got another email saying they're out
of stock again, and I was plunged into a dark, mysterious backorder
purgatory.
It's a big joke isn't it? CD Baby is nothing more than an elaborate hoax
created by bitter old Jethro Tull fans on us aging hipsters, as some sort
of sick revenge scheme, right? Wow, talk about holding a grudge.... I
know DEVO pissed you guys off, but high
school was a long time ago.
Man, that's just sad.
-- Speaking of power-pop, have you ever heard of a band called The
Fags?
Through my vast network of liars and backstabbers I procured a copy of
their Light 'Em UpCD, and it's been on permaplay in the bunker
for days now. It's just bass, guitar, drums, three minute songs, and a
bad attitude. Just the way I like it. I'm pretty sure I've never said
anything like this before, but I'm loving me some Fags. (Shut up, Buck.)
-- A few days ago I finally set up my "new" external
hard drive, and it actually works. I'd been avoiding it because I
knew, just knew, it would cause me heartache. It's been my experience
that the term "plug and play" is the biggest scam this side of
corporate consulting. But the entire process only took me about four
minutes. Who could've predicted such a thing?
Now there's but one thing left to do: I've got the feeling it's time to
start filling it up with Phil.
Hello?
And that pretty much zeroes out the notebook, boys and girls. I'll be back on President's Day or the day after.
I hate for the bunker to go dark for so long, but I have some stuff here that needs tending
to. So....
--
And here we are. A little later than I'd planned, but what are you
going to do? We ended up going out for dinner last night, quaffed a
cuppa two tree Harps, then it was time to free-fall into the couch and
watch Homicide on DVD.
, and Toney is completely
hooked. Even more than I am. In fact, she suggested we buy 