A Curious Case of Shanks

about those fines….

2009-08-09T16:02:00.000-07:00

Chasing inspiration one drink at a time–

It seems like its been months since i’ve written anything. Actually, its been over three months. So much has transpired in that time.. I wasn’t really finding inspiration in anything. Last decent writing was in San Fransisco earlier this year. New York City seems to drain any creative sparks left in my brain. There are more important things to talk about then my feindish attempts at being witty. Let the story being…….

This month, my neighborhood citizens bridage began placing “Anti-Dog Poop” signs. These signs can be found on neighborhood trees, walkways, hydrants, etc. Basically, anywhere a dog can do his business. The sign reads:

“Attention: Curd, Leash, and Pickup after your dog : A $25-200 fee will apply to those not in compliance”

Which gets me to thinking, what is compliance? Would a shitzu turd merit a $36.50 fine as compared to the heftier Pit Bull fine clocking in at $67.89? The sign doesnt mention how the fee scale works. I really wish it did. Perhaps some illustrative pictures would help all of us concerned citizens. Inquiring minds would like to know.. This could potentially affect pet owners and lover everywhere. Perhaps there is a secret lobby of respective breeders? Which would petition and bribe the neighborhood assocation to lower the feces fee on their breed? This could potentially be a huge windfall for the city of New York. Much like the energy efficient washers, dryers, and refigeratos pets could get a yellow energy/fee ranking sticker upon purchase. I for one would go with a breed with a under $50 feces fine. This kind of barganing could also allow rich, fat cat New Yorker’s to show off their wealth. Imagine walking a dog with a $500 fee? Oh the heads that would turn!!!!!

Onto more important things………

Don’t Drink and Dream….

2009-04-15T07:20:00.000-07:00

I must capture this before it evades my skull and vanishes.. I just awoke from probably the craziest dream to date. At least that I remember.

(The setting)

A dingy Las Vegas lounge show, the room is smoke filled and geriatrics are scattered about.

(The dream)

In my slumber I could make out about six figures sitting down in maroon chairs. The attendance for this show was very low. This harkens back to my impending trip to Vegas. Because I paid the extra $40 per seat, I will get to meet Wayne Newton and sit at a table in front of the stage. Somehow tonight, my brain thought it was actually at this show. However, it painted a very grim image of what could be to come.

Seated to my left from what I recall was a group of trashtastic southerners. Not sure what there names were. I do recall a red and yellow NASCAR shirt on a woman with cut-off sleeves. They had brought some chips and 2-liters from home. Last image I remember of them is un-packaging their wares. That is the last we will hear out of them for this dream. They will spend the rest of the time munching and gulping down their junk food.

Onto the lady to my right, upon sitting down, I looked to both sides; saw the trailer trash to my left and a grandma probably in her 90’s. Her and I never exchanged words because from the minute the performer walked on stage (he appeared to resemble a man of Wayne Newton’s stature, however he sung NO signature Wayne songs) this woman looked to be asleep. I remember into his first few songs the performer actually came off the stage and up to the woman attempting to revive/wake her, to no avail.

-On a side note, I believe this all came about because lately I have had some fears. Some fears that fans just may not appreciate the nostalgia that a Wayne Newton show has to offer. Granted his voice isn’t all there and his fans are slowly disappearing. Usually due in part to old age, cancer, etc. I have feared that Wayne may stop touring and playing at all because sometimes attendance at his shows is fairly sparse.

I digress

After multiple attempts to revive the woman, the performer climbed back on stage and the show was paused. Since dreams really have no sense of time I have no idea how long the show was paused or what transpired. The next thing I knew/remember is that the kind old lady to my right was being carried off in a gurney of sorts. This whole time the southerners didn’t flinch and kept their faces firmly in their greasy bag of chips.

So being that the dead lady spoiled the show for everyone in the audience, the performer had to improvise. Next thing I know he was inflating a bobcat with his mouth on stage while someone in the background played a fiddle. He ended the show shortly after that. My mother and I felt cheated.

She knew I had a love of this particular Wayne Newton-esque performer. She also knew that I would want to support him in every endeavor he entered upon. This being said, she was leery of even bringing up the idea of a refund. However, she somehow talked me into it. We walked past some vintage Terminator 2 roller coaster ride (which I don’t believe exists in Vegas) and found the nearest clerk. The clerk was aware of what happened in the show and offered up a prompt refund.

I woke up

Some Vintage HST

2009-04-13T20:07:00.000-07:00

Fear and Loathing, On The Campaign Trail 2004
-DR. HUNTER S. THOMPSON

Dr. Hunter S. Thompson sounds off on the fun-hogs in the passing lane

(copyright Rolling Stone and HST)

Armageddon came early for George Bush this year, and he was not ready for it. His long-awaited showdowns with my man John Kerry turned into a series of horrible embarrassments that cracked his nerve and demoralized his closest campaign advisers. They knew he would never recover, no matter how many votes they could steal for him in Florida, where the presidential debates were closely watched and widely celebrated by millions of Kerry supporters who suddenly had reason to feel like winners.

Kerry came into October as a five-point underdog with almost no chance of winning three out of three rigged confrontations with a treacherous little freak like George Bush. But the debates are over now, and the victor was clearly John Kerry every time. He steamrollered Bush and left him for roadkill.

Did you see Bush on TV, trying to debate? Jesus, he talked like a donkey with no brains at all. The tide turned early, in Coral Gables, when Bush went belly up less than halfway through his first bout with Kerry, who hammered poor George into jelly. It was pitiful. . . . I almost felt sorry for him, until I heard someone call him "Mister President," and then I felt ashamed.

Karl Rove, the president's political wizard, felt even worse. There is angst in the heart of Texas today, and panic in the bowels of the White House. Rove has a nasty little problem, and its name is George Bush. The president failed miserably from the instant he got onstage with John Kerry. He looked weak and dumb. Kerry beat him like a gong in Coral Gables, then again in St. Louis and Tempe -- and that is Rove's problem: His candidate is a weak-minded frat boy who cracks under pressure in front of 60 million voters.

That is an unacceptable failure for hardballers like Rove and Dick Cheney. On the undercard in Cleveland against John Edwards, Cheney came across as the cruel and sinister uberboss of Halliburton. In his only honest moment during the entire debate, he vowed, "We have to make America the best place in the world to do business."

Bush signed his own death warrant in the opening round, when he finally had to speak without his TelePrompTer. It was a Cinderella story brought up to date in Florida that night -- except this time the false prince turned back into a frog.

Immediately after the first debate ended I called Muhammad Ali at his home in Michigan, but whoever answered said the champ was laughing so hard that he couldn't come to the phone. "The debate really cracked him up," he chuckled. "The champ loves a good ass-whuppin'. He says Bush looked so scared to fight, he finally just quit and laid down."
Ali has seen that look before. Almost three months to the day after John Fitzgerald Kennedy was murdered in Dallas, the "Louisville Lip" -- then Cassius Clay -- made a permanent enemy of every "boxing expert" in the Western world by beating World Heavyweight Champion Sonny Liston so badly that he refused to come out of his corner for the seventh round.

This year's first presidential debate was such a disaster for George Bush that his handlers had to be crazy to let him get in the ring with John Kerry again. Yet Karl Rove let it happen, and we can only wonder why. But there is no doubt that the president has lost his nerve, and his career in the White House is finished. NO MAS.
*****
Presidential politics is a vicious business, even for rich white men, and anybody who gets into it should be prepared to grapple with the meanest of the mean. The White House has never been seized by timid warriors. There are no rules, and the roadside is littered with wreckage. That is why they call it the passing lane. Just ask any candidate who ever ran against George Bush -- Al Gore, Ann Richards, John McCain -- all of them ambushed and vanquished by lies and dirty tricks. And all of them still whining about it.

That is why George W. Bush is President of the United States, and Al Gore is not. Bush simply wanted it more, and he was willing to demolish anything that got in his way, including the U.S. Supreme Court. It is not by accident that the Bush White House (read: Dick Cheney & Halliburton Inc.) controls all three branches of our federal government today. They are powerful thugs who would far rather die than lose the election in November.

The Republican establishment is haunted by painful memories of what happened to Old Man Bush in 1992. He peaked too early, and he had no response to "It's the economy, stupid."

Which has always been the case. Every GOP administration since 1952 has let the Military-Industrial Complex loot the Treasury and plunge the nation into debt on the excuse of a wartime economic emergency. Richard Nixon comes quickly to mind, along with Ronald Reagan and his ridiculous "trickle-down" theory of U.S. economic policy. If the Rich get Richer, the theory goes, before long their pots will overflow and somehow "trickle down" to the poor, who would rather eat scraps off the Bush family plates than eat nothing at all. Republicans have never approved of democracy, and they never will. It goes back to preindustrial America, when only white male property owners could vote.

Things haven't changed all that much where George W. Bush comes from. Houston is a cruel and crazy town on a filthy river in East Texas with no zoning laws and a culture of sex, money and violence. It's a shabby sprawling metropolis ruled by brazen women, crooked cops and super-rich pansexual cowboys who live by the code of the West -- which can mean just about anything you need it to mean, in a pinch.

Houston is also the unnatural home of two out of the last three presidents of the United States of America, for good or ill. The other one was a handsome, sex-crazed boy from next-door Arkansas, which has no laws against oral sex or any other deviant practice not specifically forbidden in the New Testament, including anal incest and public cunnilingus with farm animals.
Back in 1948, during his first race for the U.S. Senate, Lyndon Johnson was running about ten points behind, with only nine days to go. He was sunk in despair. He was desperate. And it was just before noon on a Monday, they say, when he called his equally depressed campaign manager and instructed him to call a press conference for just before lunch on a slow news day and accuse his high-riding opponent, a pig farmer, of having routine carnal knowledge of his barnyard sows, despite the pleas of his wife and children.

His campaign manager was shocked. "We can't say that, Lyndon," he supposedly said. "You know it's not true."
"Of course it's not true!" Johnson barked at him. "But let's make the bastard deny it!"
Johnson -- a Democrat, like Bill Clinton -- won that election by fewer than a hundred votes, and after that he was home free. He went on to rule Texas and the U.S. Senate for twenty years and to be the most powerful vice president in the history of the United States. Until now.
*****
The genetically vicious nature of presidential campaigns in America is too obvious to argue with, but some people call it fun, and I am one of them. Election Day -- especially a presidential election -- is always a wild and terrifying time for politics junkies, and I am one of those, too. We look forward to major election days like sex addicts look forward to orgies. We are slaves to it.

Which is not a bad thing, all in all, for the winners. They are not the ones who bitch and whine about slavery when the votes are finally counted and the losers are forced to get down on their knees. No. The slaves who emerge victorious from these drastic public decisions go crazy with joy and plunge each other into deep tubs of chilled Cristal champagne with naked strangers who want to be close to a winner.

That is how it works in the victory business. You see it every time. The Weak will suck up to the Strong, for fear of losing their jobs and their money and all the fickle power they wielded only twenty-four hours ago. It is like suddenly losing your wife and your home in a vagrant poker game, then having to go on the road with whoremongers and beg for your dinner in public.
Nobody wants to hire a loser. Right? They stink of doom and defeat.

"What is that horrible smell in the office, Tex? It's making me sick."

"That is the smell of a Loser, Senator. He came in to apply for a job, but we tossed him out immediately. Sgt. Sloat took him down to the parking lot and taught him a lesson he will never forget."

"Good work, Tex. And how are you coming with my new Enemies List? I want them all locked up. They are scum."

"We will punish them brutally. They are terrorist sympathizers, and most of them voted against you anyway. I hate those bastards."

"Thank you, Sloat. You are a faithful servant. Come over here and kneel down. I want to reward you."

That is the nature of high-risk politics. Veni Vidi Vici, especially among Republicans. It's like the ancient Bedouin saying: As the camel falls to its knees, more knives are drawn.
*****
Indeed. the numbers are weird today, and so is this dangerous election. The time has come to rumble, to inject a bit of fun into politics. That's exactly what the debates did. John Kerry looked like a winner, and it energized his troops. Voting for Kerry is beginning to look like very serious fun for everybody except poor George, who now suddenly looks like a loser.
That is fatal in a presidential election.

I look at elections with the cool and dispassionate gaze of a professional gambler, especially when I'm betting real money on the outcome. Contrary to most conventional wisdom, I see Kerry with five points as a recommended risk. Kerry will win this election, if it happens, by a bigger margin than Bush finally gouged out of Florida in 2000. That was about forty-six percent, plus five points for owning the U.S. Supreme Court -- which seemed to equal fifty-one percent. Nobody really believed that, but George W. Bush moved into the White House anyway.

It was the most brutal seizure of power since Hitler burned the German Reichstag in 1933 and declared himself the new Boss of Germany. Karl Rove is no stranger to Nazi strategy, if only because it worked, for a while, and it was sure as hell fun for Hitler. But not for long. He ran out of oil, the whole world hated him, and he liked to gobble pure crystal biphetamine and stay awake for eight or nine days in a row with his maps & his bombers & his dope-addled general staff.

They all loved the whiff. It is the perfect drug for War -- as long as you are winning -- and Hitler thought he was King of the Hill forever. He had created a new master race, and every one of them worshipped him. The new Hitler youth loved to march and sing songs in unison and dance naked at night for the generals. They were fanatics.

That was sixty-six years ago, far back in ancient history, and things are not much different today. We still love War.
George Bush certainly does. In four short years he has turned our country from a prosperous nation at peace into a desperately indebted nation at war. But so what? He is the President of the United States, and you're not. Love it or leave it.
*****
War is an option whose time has passed. Peace is the only option for the future. At present we occupy a treacherous no-man's-land between peace and war, a time of growing fear that our military might has expanded beyond our capacity to control it and our political differences widened beyond our ability to bridge them. . . .

Short of changing human nature, therefore, the only way to achieve a practical, livable peace in a world of competing nations is to take the profit out of war. --RICHARD M. NIXON, "REAL PEACE" (1983)

Richard Nixon looks like a flaming liberal today, compared to a golem like George Bush. Indeed. Where is Richard Nixon now that we finally need him?

If Nixon were running for president today, he would be seen as a "liberal" candidate, and he would probably win. He was a crook and a bungler, but what the hell? Nixon was a barrel of laughs compared to this gang of thugs from the Halliburton petroleum organization who are running the White House today -- and who will be running it this time next year, if we (the once-proud, once-loved and widely respected "American people") don't rise up like wounded warriors and whack those lying petroleum pimps out of the White House on November 2nd.

Nixon hated running for president during football season, but he did it anyway. Nixon was a professional politician, and I despised everything he stood for -- but if he were running for president this year against the evil Bush-Cheney gang, I would happily vote for him.

You bet. Richard Nixon would be my Man. He was a crook and a creep and a gin-sot, but on some nights, when he would get hammered and wander around in the streets, he was fun to hang out with. He would wear a silk sweat suit and pull a stocking down over his face so nobody could recognize him. Then we would get in a cab and cruise down to the Watergate Hotel, just for laughs.
*****
Even the Fun-hog vote has started to swing for John Kerry, and that is a hard bloc to move. Only a fool would try to run for president without the enthusiastic support of the Fun-hog vote. It is huge, and always available, but they will never be lured into a voting booth unless voting carries a promise of Fun.

At least thirty-three percent of all eligible voters in this country are confessed Fun-hogs, who will cave into any temptation they stumble on. They have always hated George Bush, but until now they had never made the connection between hating George Bush and voting for John Kerry.

The Fun-hogs are starving for anything they can laugh with, instead of at. But George Bush is not funny. Nobody except fellow members of the Petroleum Club in Houston will laugh at his silly barnyard jokes unless it's for money.

When young Bush was at Yale in the Sixties, he told the same joke over and over again for two years, according to some of his classmates. One of them still remembers it:

There was a young man named Green Who invented a jack-off machine On the twenty-third stroke The damn thing broke And churned his nuts into cream.

"It was horrible to hear him tell it," said the classmate, who spoke only on condition of anonymity. He lifted his shirt and showed me a scar on his back put there by young George. "He burned this into my flesh with a red-hot poker," he said solemnly, "and I have hated him ever since. That jackass was born cruel. He burned me in the back while I was blindfolded. This scar will be with me forever."

There is nothing new or secret about that story. It ran on the front page of the Yale Daily News and caused a nasty scandal for a few weeks, but nobody was ever expelled for it. George did his first cover-up job. And he liked it.
*****
I watch three or four frantic network-news bulletins about Iraq every day, and it is all just fraudulent Pentagon propaganda, the absolute opposite of what it says: u.s. transfers sovereignty to iraqi interim "government." Hot damn! Iraq is finally Free, and just in time for the election! It is a deliberate cowardly lie. We are no more giving power back to the Iraqi people than we are about to stop killing them.

Your neighbor's grandchildren will be fighting this stupid, greed-crazed Bush-family "war" against the whole Islamic world for the rest of their lives, if John Kerry is not elected to be the new President of the United States in November.
The question this year is not whether President Bush is acting more and more like the head of a fascist government but if the American people want it that way. That is what this election is all about. We are down to nut-cutting time, and millions of people are angry. They want a Regime Change.

Some people say that George Bush should be run down and sacrificed to the Rat gods. But not me. No. I say it would be a lot easier to just vote the bastard out of office on November 2nd.
*****
BULLETIN KERRY WINS GONZO ENDORSMENT; DR. THOMPSON JOINS DEMOCRAT IN CALLING BUSH "THE SYPHILLIS PRESIDENT" 

"Four more years of George Bush will be like four more years of syphilis," the famed author said yesterday at a hastily called press conference near his home in Woody Creek, Colorado. "Only a fool or a sucker would vote for a dangerous loser like Bush," Dr. Thompson warned. "He hates everything we stand for, and he knows we will vote against him in November."
Thompson, long known for the eerie accuracy of his political instincts, went on to denounce Ralph Nader as "a worthless Judas Goat with no moral compass."

"I endorsed John Kerry a long time ago," he said, "and I will do everything in my power, short of roaming the streets with a meat hammer, to help him be the next President of the United States."
*****
Which is true. I said all those things, and I will say them again. Of course I will vote for John Kerry. I have known him for thirty years as a good man with a brave heart -- which is more than even the president's friends will tell you about George W. Bush, who is also an old acquaintance from the white-knuckle days of yesteryear. He is hated all over the world, including large parts of Texas, and he is taking us all down with him.

Bush is a natural-born loser with a filthy-rich daddy who pimped his son out to rich oil-mongers. He hates music, football and sex, in no particular order, and he is no fun at all.

I voted for Ralph Nader in 2000, but I will not make that mistake again. The joke is over for Nader. He was funny once, but now he belongs to the dead. There is nothing funny about helping George Bush win Florida again. Nader is a fool, and so is anybody who votes for him in November -- with the obvious exception of professional Republicans who have paid big money to turn poor Ralph into a world-famous Judas Goat.

Nader has become so desperate and crazed that he's stooped to paying homeless people to gather signatures to get him on the ballot. In Pennsylvania, the petitions he submitted contained tens of thousands of phony signatures, including Fred Flintstone, Mickey Mouse and John Kerry. A judge dumped Ralph from the ballot there, saying the forms were "rife with forgeries" and calling it "the most deceitful and fraudulent exercise ever perpetrated upon this court."

But they will keep his name on the ballot in the long-suffering Hurricane State, which is ruled by the President's younger brother, Jeb, who also wants to be the next President of the United States. In 2000, when they sent Jim Baker down to Florida, I knew it was all over. The fix was in. In that election, 97,488 people voted for Nader in Florida, and Gore lost the state by 537 votes. You don't have to be from Texas to understand the moral of that story. It's like being out-coached in the Super Bowl. There are no rules in the passing lane. Only losers play fair, and all winners have blood on their hands.
*****
Back in June, when John Kerry was beginning to feel like a winner, I had a quick little rendezvous with him on a rain-soaked runway in Aspen, Colorado, where he was scheduled to meet with a harem of wealthy campaign contributors. As we rode to the event, I told him that Bush's vicious goons in the White House are perfectly capable of assassinating Nader and blaming it on him. His staff laughed, but the Secret Service men didn't. Kerry quickly suggested that I might make a good running mate, and we reminisced about trying to end the Vietnam War in 1972.

That was the year I first met him, at a riot on that elegant little street in front of the White House. He was yelling into a bullhorn and I was trying to throw a dead, bleeding rat over a black-spike fence and onto the president's lawn.

We were angry and righteous in those days, and there were millions of us. We kicked two chief executives out of the White House because they were stupid warmongers. We conquered Lyndon Johnson and we stomped on Richard Nixon -- which wise people said was impossible, but so what? It was fun. We were warriors then, and our tribe was strong like a river.

That river is still running. All we have to do is get out and vote, while it's still legal, and we will wash those crooked warmongers out of the White House.

Overheard at Duane Reade

2009-04-02T21:07:00.000-07:00

(a pair of large women walk into the Duane Reade, pickup a celebrity gossip magazine, this is what transpired)

Random Woman: "oh mah gawd Clarice, Come and look at tiz! Brad un Angeleeenuah arze getting seper ate ed! "

Clarice: "no way! they was like a really guud couple"

Random Woman: "wellz I wunder who's gunna get them kids?"

Clarice: "well Brad is like all kinds of young after he did that movie"

Random Woman: "yea, oh baby, datz like crazy yo!"

Clarice: "yo gurl! enough of that shizz, you see Obama might be gay?"

Random Woman: "gurl, shut yo mouth! It don't matta if he's gay! dez kids are more important, they got like six of em"

Clarice: "screw this lets get our hair gel and go meet up with that guy that asked us for money for food"

Random Woman: "damn right!! we gonna get our drink on! they are things mo important than them damn kids"

Clarice: "yea gurl! I left my 8 year old at home, she juz luvs that Hannah Montana"

Random Woman: "what is up with these doors, I dont go into doors that don't open for me, i'm a princess"

(the pair walks into the night)

Wayne Newton Pics!!

2009-03-22T15:42:00.001-07:00

http://tinyurl.com/d4kjc2

take a look

Wayne Newton!!!

2009-03-22T09:45:00.000-07:00

A Video From Last night (3/21) in Atlantic City... Full write up to come!!

Quick! Everyone Jump Aboard!!!

2009-03-13T11:24:00.000-07:00

Seems like now days the times are tight and the money is scarce. Of course the recession hasn’t affected all areas of the economy. Gun sales are up and people appear to be boozing at an alarming rate. What does this mean? It means our economy just might not be in the crapper. Years ago, more like decades ago, the streets were lined with snake oil salesmen and Wall Street types selling their worldly possessions for pennies on the dollar. This doesn’t appear be happening just yet. However, should you start to see some Midwestern fellow on the street drinking moonshine and offering a 2 for 1 sale on guns, be aware!

The stock market is on a 4-day uptick (lets hope it lasts! fingers crossed) Confidence is starting to flow back into all areas of society. Lets just see what happens!

On a lighter note;

The upper west side seems unaffected by the current downturn. People are still living well beyond their means and the homeless are just as relentless.. All the signs are in place, in fact Atomic Wings actually ran out of wings the other day. Yet another sign that Americans are expanding their waistlines just as fast as they can.

I digress; the tattoo convention coverage seemed to strike quite a cord. Readership was way up last week. People have been emailing asking me to write more on the convention or perhaps a "post show recap." People were questioning the validity of my coverage and the "truthiness." Savages!!!

I was going to write about some pretty juicy stories unfolding across the UWS. But for legal reasons, I had to delete the story at the last minute. Sorry folks..

Till we meet again....

Reporting Live From the 2009 Philadelphia Tattoo Convention.....

2009-03-01T20:58:00.000-08:00

With a belly full of last night’s Ethiopian feast, I entered the 2009 Philadelphia tattoo convention. I felt like a young virgin walking through the corridors of a whorehouse. Problem was that this virgin has nowhere near the massive quantity of tattoos as his inked brethren. In fact, nothing like these people. The smell of creation and inspiration were in the air on this cold Philadelphia day. Seeing someone take the liberty of tattooing Heath Ledger on their ass is a very harrowing site, In fact a woman had a raw spinal cord tattooed on her back which according to these people, is fairly common place. I had the privilege of seeing a man that is very infamous in the east coast tattoo circuit. He has one arm, in place of his other arm he has a hand for a shoulder, very nice chap. Unfortunately, we only met briefly.

Here we were in the sacred halls of the Sheridan of Philadelphia. Everyone with a smile, everyone with a beer, everyone tattooed. This was the kind of place where eternal mistakes happen, where people come to make those decisions and mistakes that will haunt them for the rest of their natural born lives. I’m sure the man today that had Richard Nixon tattooed on his ankle will probably be reconsidering this when he is a 76 yr old geriatric living off the government someone in Pennsylvania.
What a life.

So here I am, a midwestern boy thrown into the throngs of civility and manliness. Grown men walking around with tears forming in their eyes, protecting their newly tattooed skin with bandages. This place resembles a World War III triage clinic. Women walking around bruised, bloodied and pierced, everyone with a smile and a grimace at the same time. These people will recover weeks later with a grin and an eternal painting placed upon their skin.

What’s that you say? Did I receive a tattoo at this momentous event? The quick and dirty answer is NO. The simple response or excuse is that I couldn’t find anyone daring enough to place flames on the precious dice on my back. Its not that I really asked anyone, but from the looks of these fiends I couldn’t find anyone daring enough to complete the cheese that is on my back…

The central Pennsylvania chapter of the Hells angels was holding shop on the second floor, amongst their choppers and cycles. Outfitted with the finest in denim fashion and a predilection for a good fight. I walked past with a smile and nod. Right on brother!

The fire Marshall stepped into the picture shortly before 2pm. Apparently the place was so overrun with tattoo carnival queens and kings that they had to unleash the dogs. There was trouble again with the tattoo artist known as Joe with our friend Alison. Apparently, in the melee that was the evacuation she had left her bag in the possession of her tattoo artist. Upon evacuating everyone in the middle of a tattoo had to up and leave and run down the escalator for fear of overcrowding. It really made no sense. Police in riot gear were called and the place was overrun with pigs. Once the pork had the place covered, they cleared out the seedy element that the fire Marshall deemed too scary to enter the coveted halls of this tattoo shrine and we went on our way..

Also taking place today, the full effect of the recession in place. With credit cards at near crisis level, none of the tattoo parlors/booths were taking credit/debit cards. Which encouraged a mini run on the banks of epic proportions. Banks across town had large “out of cash” signs placed in the windows of their ATM’s. Every tattoo fiend on the east coast was in town to witness this momentous occasion. The side effect was plenty of shed blood and wasted cash. People across northern Philly were maxing out their ATM card limits to support their habit. ATMs within a 5-block radius all reported outages and many more banks were patrolled by a rampant security force rivaled only by the secret service.

Out side of the Sheridan a police SWAT team had gathered to protect the freshly tattoo smokers. Donned in riot gear these boys were ready for a party or a large-scale attack on the drug/alcohol induced tattoo fans. There was madness in any direction.

So here we are less than two hours later. Bored out of our minds, feasting on Gin and Philly cheese steaks. Alison is still getting inked. Two tattoo’s down and a third to go. Being that I wimped out of receiving a tattoo, I have been cordoned off with the other weak stomached low lives. Sipping on an alcoholic beverage. Having fear in my heart and trying to shoo away the various forms of tattooed men, women, and children. What a great day. A day that wouldn’t be complete without a visit to the Hall of Human Curiosities. A festering cesspool of activity. Which reeked of formaldehyde and human flesh. Upon these halls they had such treasures as an original glass eye taken from Sammy Davis Jar’s estate, a lock of JFK’s hair, deformed human fetuses, a preserved human hand, and many more strange and unusual pieces. They billed themselves as the only place in Philadelphia to be able to see preserved Siamese twins, conjoined frogs, and various other items too scary even for Ripley.

As I sit here I am haunted by needles, scared by blood, and downright tired. No tattoo for me thanks!

Just another freak in the freak kingdom…. Walk gently into their midst..

Then impending snowstorm forced us to forge a third bus ticket for Yana. She was scheduled for a later bus and we found a way to change her ticket to reflect ours. The ride home was uneventful. We had a hunger in our heart for New York City. Less than 36 Hours in Philly was enough for us. As we neared the snowy caps of the skyscrapers of New York we all exhaled sat back for the ride. Upon arrival we departed into the snowy mist of the night..

What a weekend.. What a life.. What great inspiration for a story..

I’m off to make snow angels in the blizzard..

Look at this pea coat; tell me he's broke....

2009-02-17T09:44:00.001-08:00

Money doesn’t buy happiness.. Oh yea? But it buys a wave runner! And have you ever seen someone frown on a wave runner? I think not!

So what is money even worth now days? The price of beans has remained steady for years, but the bean industry never needed the bailout that America currently needs. It's quite sad to see a superpower struggling. Too deep? Perhaps...

I'm all for the resurrection of the American economy. I think it's essential to our standard of living. I just wish every American could've managed their finances a bit better.

I digress.. Enough of this sad sappiness.. Lets get on to the real SPAM. What’s that you ask? My writing has lacked over the past few weeks. I should be updating more but i'm simply too busy. I met John Grisham last week. He said I should write at least a full page a day if I ever wanted to improve. Then again I don’t believe he has looked at joshshanks.com.

I wonder how Stephen King can produce a novel in a week? It seems that I can’t even write a semi-coherent blog. Oh well, such is life. I was probably never meant to write anyways..

That doesn’t mean I wont go down trying! If it's worth doing, its worth doing right. The good doctor blessed us with that wisdom. I plan to live by it for a while.. At least until my bones are no longer capable of moving without crushing under the pain of de-calcification.

Gross..

More later...

25 things you don't care about.....

2009-02-02T11:49:00.000-08:00

First off, let me just say that I’m doing this to appease the 100 notes that I have been tagged in. I’d hate for some secret Facebook voodoo curse to turn my fingers blue. I absolutely despise these.. However, I feel my readers should get to know me better.

Enjoy!

1. I used to dream of being a test pilot for the Air Force, so much so that I took flying lessons, and actually completed a Kokomo-Muncie flight by myself

2. I’m featured in the Nov 1997 Issue of High Power Rocketry Magazine

3. I am the 1994 Central Indiana 4H Pistol Shooting Champion (I have the trophy to prove it)

4. I once wrote to Donald Trump and enclosed my $1 copy of The Art of The Deal, much to my delight, Mr. Trump signed the book and returned it to me

5. I own a house in Broad Ripple, Indiana

6. I was born 2 months premature in Newport Beach, CA

7. My first car was a 1993 Geo Metro 4 - Door (Maroon)

8. My first job was at age 13, de-tassling corn for Orvile Redenbacher popcorn

9. I once played poker with members of SNL

10. I’ve produced two films, you can see my profile on IMDB.com

11. I’ve never left North American (have been to Mexico and Canada though)

12. I once talked politics with Hunter S. Thompson’s wife

13. First concert was Alice Cooper/Cheap Trick/The Scorpions with my dad

14. I didn’t drink until I was 21, at that point I drank a Mikes hard lemonade at a Casino in Windsor, Canada

15. I’ve seen Wayne Newton in concert 5 times

16. I’ve drank in the same bars that Jack Kerouac, Hunter Thomson,
Hemmingway, and William S. Burroughs drank at

17. When I was a kid I had a botched tonsillectomy, since then I have at least 2 ear infections a year, some so bad that my throat seals up and I cant breath

18. My mom holds a secret from me that I’m advised will be released upon my wedding day, odd

19. I moved to New York 3 years ago, not knowing anyone here, and ended up living in Bed-Stuy for 2 years, hey! At least I have street cred

20. I once lived with a girl for two years in Indianapolis; she is now one of my best friends..

21. Chuck Yeager is my childhood hero

22. Every girl I dated while living in Kokomo, Indiana is now married and 90% of them have at least 1 kid

23. My biggest turn off is bad breath

24. My birthday is Jan 22nd which is the same day Heath Ledger died

25. I’ve recreated the Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas drive to Vegas 4 times, once while fully dressed as Hunter Thompson, yes I’m a freak, too scary to live, to messed up to die

Here's what happens when you turn 27

2009-01-28T09:34:00.000-08:00

This morning, I awoke to the soothing sounds of "Nasty Naughty Boy" by Christina Aguilera.. The lights were still on in the apartment.. AND I was wearing some one else’s coat.. I had magically time traveled via NYC Taxi to my bed last night. Somehow managed to eclipse five flights of stairs and ate a quick snack of my favorite fried corn meal in a chip called "Dipsy Doodles."

Overall, the night was a success. A great many people came and went. People I’m sure did things they would probably regret the next day. As for me, I drank whatever was handed to me and more.. I ate plenty of tator tots and made enough douchey comments to last a lifetime.. Did I talk to you? Probably.. Do I remember? Probably not..

What happened you ask? Last Thursday, I celebrated the 27th Annual Festival of my arrival on planet earth. It was a momentous occasion. Over 60 current and former co-workers hauled their way through the slush and grime of the New York City underground to attend. Many drinks were consumed, a few photos taken. Which I’m sure set off a barrage of activity on Facebook and email. Apology texts were sent, and condolence letters started flowing in the next morning.

Many life lessons were learned that fateful night. Such as:

-Never throw a roll of paper towels at a bartender

-Never willingly accept any free drink, for fear your friends may roofie you

-Never under any circumstances, demand the bartender know the recipe for a Singapore Sling, they probably have not read Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, and will not take too kindly to the request

-Immediately STOP drinking after your first trip face first into the ground

-Always remember to untag yourself from the less flattering chest hair showing photos of your self

-Never publicly insult a friends choice in men. Just because he looks like a Hobbit doesn't mean you have the right to tell her so

and finally,

-Turn your phone off at first sign that a drunken stupor is about the occur, drunken txts and facebook messages are just awkward for everyone

------------------

This being said the birthday was a great success. Thanks for coming....

Barack Obama’s Inaugural Address

2009-01-20T13:02:00.001-08:00

Following is the transcript of President Barack Obama’s Inaugural Address, as transcribed by CQ Transcriptions:

PRESIDENT BARACK Thank you. Thank you.

CROWD: Obama! Obama! Obama! Obama!

My fellow citizens: I stand here today humbled by the task before us, grateful for the trust you have bestowed, mindful of the sacrifices borne by our ancestors.

I thank President Bush for his service to our nation...

(APPLAUSE)

... as well as the generosity and cooperation he has shown throughout this transition.

Forty-four Americans have now taken the presidential oath.

The words have been spoken during rising tides of prosperity and the still waters of peace. Yet, every so often the oath is taken amidst gathering clouds and raging storms. At these moments, America has carried on not simply because of the skill or vision of those in high office, but because We the People have remained faithful to the ideals of our forbearers, and true to our founding documents.

So it has been. So it must be with this generation of Americans.

That we are in the midst of crisis is now well understood. Our nation is at war against a far-reaching network of violence and hatred. Our economy is badly weakened, a consequence of greed and irresponsibility on the part of some but also our collective failure to make hard choices and prepare the nation for a new age.

Homes have been lost, jobs shed, businesses shuttered. Our health care is too costly, our schools fail too many, and each day brings further evidence that the ways we use energy strengthen our adversaries and threaten our planet.

These are the indicators of crisis, subject to data and statistics. Less measurable, but no less profound, is a sapping of confidence across our land; a nagging fear that America's decline is inevitable, that the next generation must lower its sights.

Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real, they are serious and they are many. They will not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this America: They will be met.

(APPLAUSE)

On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.

On this day, we come to proclaim an end to the petty grievances and false promises, the recriminations and worn-out dogmas that for far too long have strangled our politics.

We remain a young nation, but in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness.

(APPLAUSE)

In reaffirming the greatness of our nation, we understand that greatness is never a given. It must be earned. Our journey has never been one of shortcuts or settling for less.

It has not been the path for the faint-hearted, for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame.

Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things -- some celebrated, but more often men and women obscure in their labor -- who have carried us up the long, rugged path towards prosperity and freedom.

For us, they packed up their few worldly possessions and traveled across oceans in search of a new life. For us, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the West, endured the lash of the whip and plowed the hard earth.

For us, they fought and died in places Concord and Gettysburg; Normandy and Khe Sahn.

Time and again these men and women struggled and sacrificed and worked till their hands were raw so that we might live a better life. They saw America as bigger than the sum of our individual ambitions; greater than all the differences of birth or wealth or faction.

This is the journey we continue today. We remain the most prosperous, powerful nation on Earth. Our workers are no less productive than when this crisis began. Our minds are no less inventive, our goods and services no less needed than they were last week or last month or last year. Our capacity remains undiminished. But our time of standing pat, of protecting narrow interests and putting off unpleasant decisions -- that time has surely passed.

Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America.

(APPLAUSE)

For everywhere we look, there is work to be done.

The state of our economy calls for action: bold and swift. And we will act not only to create new jobs but to lay a new foundation for growth.

We will build the roads and bridges, the electric grids and digital lines that feed our commerce and bind us together.

We will restore science to its rightful place and wield technology's wonders to raise health care's quality...

(APPLAUSE)

... and lower its costs.

We will harness the sun and the winds and the soil to fuel our cars and run our factories. And we will transform our schools and colleges and universities to meet the demands of a new age.

All this we can do. All this we will do.

Now, there are some who question the scale of our ambitions, who suggest that our system cannot tolerate too many big plans. Their memories are short, for they have forgotten what this country has already done, what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose and necessity to courage.

What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them, that the stale political arguments that have consumed us for so long, no longer apply.

MR. The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works, whether it helps families find jobs at a decent wage, care they can afford, a retirement that is dignified.

Where the answer is yes, we intend to move forward. Where the answer is no, programs will end.

And those of us who manage the public's knowledge will be held to account, to spend wisely, reform bad habits, and do our business in the light of day, because only then can we restore the vital trust between a people and their government.

Nor is the question before us whether the market is a force for good or ill. Its power to generate wealth and expand freedom is unmatched.

But this crisis has reminded us that without a watchful eye, the market can spin out of control. The nation cannot prosper long when it favors only the prosperous.

The success of our economy has always depended not just on the size of our gross domestic product, but on the reach of our prosperity; on the ability to extend opportunity to every willing heart -- not out of charity, but because it is the surest route to our common good.

(APPLAUSE)

As for our common defense, we reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals.

Our founding fathers faced with perils that we can scarcely imagine, drafted a charter to assure the rule of law and the rights of man, a charter expanded by the blood of generations.

Those ideals still light the world, and we will not give them up for expedience's sake.

And so, to all other peoples and governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born: know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and we are ready to lead once more.

(APPLAUSE)

Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with the sturdy alliances and enduring convictions.

They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use. Our security emanates from the justness of our cause; the force of our example; the tempering qualities of humility and restraint.

We are the keepers of this legacy, guided by these principles once more, we can meet those new threats that demand even greater effort, even greater cooperation and understanding between nations. We'll begin to responsibly leave Iraq to its people and forge a hard- earned peace in Afghanistan.

With old friends and former foes, we'll work tirelessly to lessen the nuclear threat and roll back the specter of a warming planet.

We will not apologize for our way of life nor will we waver in its defense.

And for those who seek to advance their aims by inducing terror and slaughtering innocents, we say to you now that, "Our spirit is stronger and cannot be broken. You cannot outlast us, and we will defeat you."

(APPLAUSE)

For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness.

We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus, and nonbelievers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth.

And because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace.

To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect.

To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict or blame their society's ills on the West, know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy.

To those...

(APPLAUSE)

To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history, but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.

(APPLAUSE)

To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds.

And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to the suffering outside our borders, nor can we consume the world's resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.

As we consider the road that unfolds before us, we remember with humble gratitude those brave Americans who, at this very hour, patrol far-off deserts and distant mountains. They have something to tell us, just as the fallen heroes who lie in Arlington whisper through the ages.

We honor them not only because they are guardians of our liberty, but because they embody the spirit of service: a willingness to find meaning in something greater than themselves.

And yet, at this moment, a moment that will define a generation, it is precisely this spirit that must inhabit us all.

For as much as government can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies.

It is the kindness to take in a stranger when the levees break; the selflessness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a friend lose their job which sees us through our darkest hours.

It is the firefighter's courage to storm a stairway filled with smoke, but also a parent's willingness to nurture a child, that finally decides our fate.

Our challenges may be new, the instruments with which we meet them may be new, but those values upon which our success depends, honesty and hard work, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism -- these things are old.

These things are true. They have been the quiet force of progress throughout our history.

What is demanded then is a return to these truths. What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility -- a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation and the world, duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character than giving our all to a difficult task.

This is the price and the promise of citizenship.

This is the source of our confidence: the knowledge that God calls on us to shape an uncertain destiny.

This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed, why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent mall. And why a man whose father less than 60 years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.

(APPLAUSE)

So let us mark this day in remembrance of who we are and how far we have traveled.

In the year of America's birth, in the coldest of months, a small band of patriots huddled by nine campfires on the shores of an icy river.

The capital was abandoned. The enemy was advancing. The snow was stained with blood.

At a moment when the outcome of our revolution was most in doubt, the father of our nation ordered these words be read to the people:

"Let it be told to the future world that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive, that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet it."

America, in the face of our common dangers, in this winter of our hardship, let us remember these timeless words; with hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms may come; let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations.

Thank you. God bless you.

(APPLAUSE)

And God bless the United States of America.

(APPLAUSE)

Here Comes Obama!!!

2009-01-20T10:20:00.001-08:00

Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy

Happy Obama Day!!!

2009-01-19T23:00:00.000-08:00

Today is a day for the history books. A day to remember.. A day to be forever ingrained in American society. Today marks a day in history. A day for the record books. A day that hopefully will be able to serve for future generations as the moment that the wave finally broke. The treacherous Bush presidency nearly behind us. We look to the future, hopeful and optimistic. For today is one of the most significant days of the past 100 years. I can barely sleep. I feel as if I am an 8-year-old eagerly waiting for Christmas morning to come. I hope that you and yours or even your friends are celebrating this day..

So here's to Obama!

May the next four years treat you well. May you help restore America.. Hopefully we will have a full eight years of this wonderful man...

Happy Inauguration Day!!!!

Obama's face meets the ceramic industry.. Midwestern families rejoice..

2009-01-17T17:28:00.000-08:00

This is just what I was looking for! I'm really sad that I don't have a family to sit around with and celebrate the arrival of this historic plate. What makes me even more pensive is the fact that this beautiful baby only has a limited run. That's right folks! For only 65 days this beautiful plate will be produced in China.

First there was a commercial ran featuring Montel Williams. He was hawking presidential quarters. However, unlike any other quarter "in history" these quarters featured the likeness of Barack Obama.. What drew me to these coins was the universally recognized QVC slogan "never will we produce these again, it’s a one time offer." Also, the $19.95 price point with low monthly payments on $4 played a huge role.

However, since that momentous day in my life I have seen this Montel ad run at least 124 times, and possibly more. This has tarnished the image of a once great talk show host. Since I can't sit around and watch TV all day, god knows I do try to. I must rely on the unwavering loyalty of the television shopping networks. Without them your drawers wouldn’t be filled with knives, digital cameras, ugly clothes, and most of all some United States Coinage.

What really draws me to any good infomercial is exclusivity. You must tell me that this particular item will never be available again. Even if this item is a quarter that is made in the tens of millions. You MUST gold plate it and place it inside of a protective housing. How else am I going to cherish and protect this valuable??

Now that this presidency is less than 72 hours from being official, we must purchase these plates! In massive quantities..

That being said, I really do look forward to next Tuesday. I was thinking of going to the inauguration. However, it’s looking to be more and more impossible. Due to the fact that at least 5 million people will be showing up.. If not more.

Enjoy your weekend

State of affairs affecting Apple..

2009-01-14T22:06:00.001-08:00

As a former Apple employee I feel I must address this. Today’s news didn't come as a surprise. It is however, a very sad day. For me, Steve Jobs embodied everything I liked about Apple. If it wasn't for his triumphant return I probably would've never worked for Apple. The company would've continued to make sub-standard products and fade into obscurity. However, upon his return Apple made a miraculous comeback and became the company it is now.. Many people inside of Apple believe they are the glue that binds the company and make everything right.. But what they don't realize is that without Steve Jobs, Apple would have nothing to bind with that glue. No paper, plastic, iPods or computers. The company would merely be a failing stinky cesspool of glue.. Not to say there aren't exceptional people within Apple. I met quite a few during my tenure of six years..

What I'm getting to is this.. Steve Jobs embodies the American dream. He started Apple by selling a few personal belongings and locating the company out of his parents’ basement. The company has become what it is today because of Steve Jobs. His image, creativity, polices, and practices that at times may seem extreme have made this success.

Today, Apple exists as a company in mourning. Steve was the lifeblood of this company.. Hell, when you look at my various successes in life (moving to NYC, buying a house, movie production, and etc) you'd see they'd never be possible without Steve and Apple..

Which brings me to my next point. Where does this leave Apple? Currently, Apple appears to be weathering this horrible economic environment. Remains a stable and debt-free company. Even so, somehow finds a way to continue to make the most compelling and imaginative products ever. My worry is that Steve drove a lot of people inside of Apple.. His eye for detail, un-matched work ethic, and vision. What will happen to these people when their motivation leaves the station? It's quite simple, without Steve, Apple will not be the same, we know this but where do we go from here?

Apple should look long and hard...

Just look at what got them to the level of success they currently enjoy. Apple should continue to hire the smartest people in the world. However, employee motivation has never been its strong suit. For a company of their caliber, free pizza and beer will not ease the employee tension that will and does exist. Financially Apple is VERY well off. However, with the hoarding of all of this cash comes great responsibility to the employees of Apple. A modest 5% pay increase across the board AND a cost of living increase for all employees should help with the burden of taking Steve’s workload on. This small feat should also help ease the pain of partner/significant others being laid off. Which has become a real threat in Silicon Valley. Hopefully, Apple has seen this happening within their employees’ families. To be honest, this is probably just a dream in most Apple employees’ eyes. Coming from the retail environment I understand the need for Apple to pay a living wage. With exceptionally high turnover and low morale there could be many improvements.

So my concerns are two fold. First, I want Apple to survive and continue to thrive. Second, I want Apple to look at their foundation. I want Apple to say, "now that Steve steps down, lets look at improving employee moral." It’s not likely or easy that this is going to happen. Apple will probably slip the order of moral boosting down to low-level management. Which will recite the Steve letter to employees. What Apple doesn't understand in this current environment is that most employees are more aware than their managers. Employees talk, chat, and blog about their problems all of the time. Mangers are too concerned with the bottom line. Most managers don't listen to their employees and as a result history repeats itself. As with any successful company the growth can become overwhelming. Managers begin to seep in from all corners of the earth. Some with the right resume credentials but a good interview can only go so far. I'd love to see a manager more concerned with their employees than their paycheck. There is growing dissent among the community.

So I guess time will tell. I really hope it works out for the best....

Get well soon Steve...

Only God Could Love Star Trek Voyager...

2009-01-09T09:19:00.000-08:00

null - Watch more free videos

You tell em Clint! Without these kind words of advise from Dirty Harry, society could have utterly been destroyed. Alas, we are saved by the sage advise from one of the deadliest stars to ever grace the silver screen.

Speaking of crack, i'm back in New York now.. Hopefully, i wont be leaving anytime soon. Gonna try to stay put for awhile.. Which brings me to my second point.. Thanks to Governor Paterson's budget cuts, our subways are getting more and more crowded. Everyday, I have to push, pull, tug and struggle my way onto the train. People are constantly finding ways to bug me. Here are the top five things that should be resolved on our train system, before tax increases\:

5. People listening to music and full blare on their iPhones
4. People sitting down and simultaneously spreading their legs so that no one else can sit next to them. I really like to act like im falling and fall into the seat next to them.. that always makes my day to see the grimace on their face
3. Oversized packages
2. Lack of trains

and

1. People begging for food, while wearing Prada shoes, carrying a Chanel handbag, and talking about using the money for the purchase of drugs

Everyone knows my hatred for prada shoes. I find them hideous. I think we all know a central figure in my past life that really ground my gears..

more to come..

much, much more....

35,378 Feet Up and Still Blogging

2009-01-07T11:51:00.000-08:00

Coming to you live from the friendly skies over Kansas. Apparently Virgin America has Internet access available to you for a mere $9.95 per flight. Needless to say, surfing the interwebs, chatting, watching Colbert Report, typing this, and trying to duck for the random turbulence, its going quite well.

The statistics on the flight are as follows at this given time:

Air Speed: 497mph
Distance to go: 1388miles
Altitude: 35390 ft
Temperature: -62 Degrees Fahrenheit

Here is a semi book review

-The Audacity of Hope-

During my stay in San Fran I locked myself in my hotel room with Barack Obama’s “The Audacity of Hope.” This 432pg book has its moments. At times it is extremely brilliant. Other times, it follows the playbook of the Democratic Party to the T. There is a quote from Obama in the book that says “the soldiers time is filled with hours of boredom and seconds of sheer terror.” If you replace the “terror” with “excitement” and “solder” with “Josh” you’ll understand. For the past two months I’ve been reading this book before bed, on the subway, on 8 different plane rides, three vacations and a city bus. Glad to finish this book.. It’s a weight off.. Next up, The Road by Cormac McCarthy.

more soon.....

Most guys aren’t me, get used to it…..

2009-01-07T00:06:00.000-08:00

You pumpkin pie hair-cutted freak. Learn freakanomics, don’t covet thy neighbors’ big screen, and learn to love.

The jugglers and the clowns… while they all did tricks for you..

Break out of the mold; throw the social norms out the window. Wear Chuck Taylors in classy settings; listen to Alice Cooper when you should be listening to Beethoven.. All good things.. Things like this make life worth living. Seeing the faces of people that have never heard such classics as “Billion Dollar Babies” and “Muscle of Love” makes me worried that society isn’t completed without a 1970’s teen angst song.

Seriously, is there a day that doesn’t go by where you don’t think about a particular retail object you must have? I used to be like that.. I was able to overcome this wretched addiction via hypnosis.. Well not quite.. I just moved to New York, everything else took care of itself..

I once met a man from Nantucket, funny thing though.. All he spoke about was the merits and amazing sexuality that was attributed to oak.. The sexiness of the fibers and smell of the wood.. He built custom-made VHS racks out of this magical fiber. Unfortunately for him the VHS market went way of BETA and he lost his business. However, he could be somewhere in Pennsylvania making good money with those Amish Heaters we see on TV.

My first job was acquired when I was 13. I de-tasseled corn in Indiana. I believe the fruits of my labor bought me a bike at the end of the summer.. It’s a horrible job really.. I almost lost an eye during a daring corn tassel fight.. You see, to develop the modern day popcorn seed the corn needs to germinate. This process involves rows of male corn and female corn. You remove the tassels of certain sections of corn and the corn magically reproduces and eventually gets popped via microwave radiation.

Why do my blog posts seem like semi-coherent rambles? We will see.. We are on day 5 of the continuous blog.. 1 a day for 365 days.. Then I’ll stop.. Perhaps ill have an audience by the end of this.. Perhaps I’ll be a YouTube star.. We shall see..

“What's money? A man is a success if he gets up in the morning and goes to bed at night and in between does what he wants to do.“ - Bob Dylan

Very true.. And I like what I do..

Great Odin's Raven!

2009-01-06T00:08:00.000-08:00

Somehow somewhere, there is a titan of the Lime industry sitting on a pile of cash. Why do you ask? Corona. Yes yes… Somehow, the magnates of the Argentinean lime country are doing nothing more than swimming in gold coins (ala Duck Tales)

Who could forget this gem?:

Life is like a hurricane here in Duckburg  
Race cars, lasers, aeroplanes - it's a duck blur  
You might solve a mystery or rewrite history   
Duck Tales, Oo-oo  
Tales of derring-do, bad and good luck tales, oo-oo   
D-d-d-danger, watch behind you - there's a stranger out to find you  
What to do? Just grab onto some Duck Tales, oo-oo!  
Not pony tails or cottontails but Duck Tales, oo-oo!

I digress; I wonder what the pitch was like on that one? Imagine this scene, 20 years ago;

In a world (had to start somewhere) The respective leaders and lords of the Lemon, Lime and Cherry Industries went in for a meeting with a little known Cerveza company called Corona. The company was looking to make inroads into the American drink scene. They needed a special fruity topping to sell the Americans on their drink. There could only be one that day.. Ultimately, they went with Lime.. Which might I add is a good choice.. Especially for a bar drink.. Did you know that in the 19th century, British sailors were issued limes to combat scurvy? Ewww… so next time you see that girl at the bar drinking Corona.. beware guys.. scurvy could be afoot…

Also in my head….

I get a certain bent appeal out of signed books.. I must purchase every book at Barnes & Noble that says “Autographed Copy” it just warms my heart.. I don’t care if it’s the autobiography of Lee Iacocca or a signed copy of a 101 Ways to Cure Your Dog with Song. Ok, maybe you don’t understand like I do.. I once wrote Donald Trump and he returned my book signed.. Enough said..

Speaking of books.. This being America and all.. Why must people inflict their various religious, sexual, and etc views upon the reading public via an act I’d like to call “book flipping?”

Never heard of it? It happens all the time.. It’s really quite simple.. It can happen to the best of us.. Usually you’ll notice Obama, Eminem, Man-Baby, and O’Reily books will be flipped over. Revealing their backsides to the reading public.. Which i'm sure fools no one.. I’ve seen religious fanatics, feminists, and everyone under the sun do this.. You find a book that offends you and then you just turn it over.. In hopes that other people wont see it.. Yuck.. really? Must you do this? You my friend are a tool shack, filled with bent spoons, broken nails, and a rusty recollection of values….

I’ve been in more cabs this trip than a token wall street broker in a 1980’s movie.. I’m not complaining though.. It’s been fun.. I go home soon..

More later….

"Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut" - Ernest Hemmingway

Making Your Way In The World Today Takes Everything You Got....

2009-01-05T11:00:00.000-08:00

I get a great amount of joy watching deal or no deal.

The sheer thrill of seeing people piss away any chance at modesty or normalcy. Imagine this.. You go on a show.. They have magical “cases” filled with money. It’s your job to eliminate the lower numbered cases. What you fail to realize is that these cases don’t know your favorite number. They have no idea your daughter was born on the 24th of May. So why do you continue to pick based on luck, or on numbers.. If it was me, I’d simply pick one case.. Tell Howie to open it immediately and forgo the ensuing hour of sheer terror and boredom this show provides. Foreigners must come to our shores and say.. “ewww bloody Americans.” Seriously, here’s a tip. Should you be confronted with a scenario where you could win $10 or $500,000 based upon your pick of cases. It’s probably best that you take the bankers offer of $275,000. Instead of walking out of there with your tail between you legs and a check for $6.75 after tax. It sure is good to live in a country that prides itself on our unabashed game show victories.. Viva la Jackpot!!!!

Some say the answer is blowing in the wind.. What does it take to catch it? What exactly should I be looking for? Surely, it’s not in the form of a question mark.. I really hope that the answer in the wind doesn’t smell.. In which case, I don’t want to know the answer or his peers.

Yesterday, I went to Alcatraz. Really a good time. Upon my return I learned that the national park service will be turning part of the island into a hotel by 2010. Good work America. I expect nothing less.

Upon my return I sat next to a 20 something couple that really had a good story to tell. Apparently, the girl had a friend with a fake ear. Which is basically amazing.. Well its only amazing so long as I never have a fake ear. Apparently it creates quite a raucous in the girls sorority. The girl keeps leaving her fake ear about the apartment. Once while swimming the ear was left on the ledge of the pool and a young child slipped on the ear.. Numerous dogs have walked away with the ear. So much so that this girl has to keep her ear in a protective box by her bedside to prevent a runaway ear situation via her calico cat.. I quite enjoy that…

The first one now will later be last.. Which is why I prefer to stay in the middle..

Last night I visited a place called THE BUENA VISTA. No, its not in Cuba, nor is it a dance club. Apparently, it’s a mildly entertaining bar located on Hyde St here in San Fran.. Word has it that this is the very place the American Version of the Irish coffee originated.. I’m not sure how much I believe that.. I still stole a napkin and a menu to do some further research. While sitting at the bar there were some old men next to me discussing our current “Cluster@#$! To the Poor house” better known as the economy. They were quoting certain lines of magazine that they had read. All I knew is that in the back of my head I never wanted to be “these guys.” I guess there is more to this story.. Probably not fit to print/type.

Room service just came barging into my room. Good thing I was clothed..

I want to get a junker so I can take it to Earl Scheib

2009-01-04T11:59:00.001-08:00

Call 1-800-Heirloom now!! We will buy your old Gold pieces handed down from grandma for pennies on the dollar. A $69.95 Value, and if you call now you will get all of these worthless goods for $19.95. I’m such a sucker for magical price points. I remember working in retail. You could tell when something was going to be discontinued or discounted because they would change the cents on the item. It was quite clever actually. Although, it left me foaming at the mouth whenever my favorite ratchet or screwdriver set went down to $1.98. I knew for sure that thing was going to be $1.25 soon.. I love shameless product placement and infomercials. They make my life complete. There is nothing better than a late nite state quarter buying spree. Call NOW! They will NEVER make these quarters again.. Sure you may be able to find these in your change, BUT not with the crappy gold plating that we offer. They even come in a carrying case, along with a subscription program that will push you further and further into debt. Who can forget the ever-absorbent SHAM-WOW? Everyone knows that you have a “Sham-WOW” in your cupboard. I know I sure do..

San Fran is going splendidly. I’m quite enjoying myself. Yesterday it was over 60 degrees. Quite enjoyable. I started the day by standing in line for tickets to the magical island known as Alcatraz. They were sold out for the day so I had to buy tickets for Today (Monday). However, I was assured via my brochure that the island would never again be turned into a prison. This saddens me. I thought in the back of my head it would make for a great location for an off shore casino. Especially a jailhouse themed mega-resort.

I often wonder what would “draw me to e-surance” I wonder if I’ll be flying through the sky with the leather clad e-surance girl. I could even hold the magical insurance pen and erase my previous speeding tickets in favor of less coverage and decreased human interaction… fingers crossed….

Yesterday, I went and did a few touristy things. First off I visited some military vessels on Pier 44 1/2 . They had a Victory Ship (Jeremiah O’Brien) and a Submarine (USS Pampanito). It actually served as a turning point in my trip and really made me happy to wander around a WW2 ship. I spent a good four hours in those things. The sub was fully explorable. I made quite a few trips from bow to stern (I think that’s how you say it). Apparently the O’Brien has a fully functional steam engine and makes a few trips out to sea about 8 times a year. Even the volunteers and crew sleep aboard the ship. Which made me long to turn 65 and retire so i could volunteer and serve my country aboard this fine ship.. Actually no lie.. I really want to do that.. Maybe I should just go on a cruise or something..

Ok, so right to the side of the military vessels is a museum called “Musee Mecanique”

It’s a collection of video games and personal entertainment machines from 1900-2009. Also, if you’ve ever seen the movie BIG you know that most of the time whatever the mechanical fortune teller says is true. That being said I knew I just had to pay 50 cents to determine my future. I had to visit multiple polling locations to come to a conclusion for my future. All of the machines printed a nice piece of paper or business card with your fortune on it.. Here are some highlights for my future:

“ You get easily discouraged. Your affairs are destined to show a change for the better within the next twelve months. An exceptionally good and enjoyable period will follow lasting for some time.”

“You have plenty of common sense. You have great gifts. You have a fondness for good company. Do not be over generous. You will succeed.”

The last gem:

- Do your bills get you down?
- Do they make you fret and frown?
- Despair not my own fair one
- Your battle against them will soon be won
- You’ll soon find a change for the better in your financial affairs. This’ll make you very happy indeed. You have a strong driving power within you, that may sometimes exhaust those about you. You are very easy tempered, slow to get angry, but also slow to forgive. Your family has caused you some uneasiness, but I see no cause to worry about them in the future.
- You will take a trip and that will bring you a great deal of happiness
- Drop another Coin in slow and I will tell you more.
- Your Lucky Numbers – 915-16, 10, 19, 36

Nice right? I really hope it comes true. Perhaps I'll purchase another lottery ticket with those particular numbers. Although, I don’t think “915-16” is valid.

So I ended the day by taking a private yacht under the Golden Gate Bridge. It was a very enjoyable ride. Although, my idea of a private yacht is paying some random coast guard retiree $15 to board his bass fishing boat for an hour while he smokes and carries on with tourists of all kinds. But it was still a good time..

Have you hard of Dylan Thomas? This man is a genius.. He apparently died in Greenwich Village back in the 60’s. Cause of death you ask? He drank 18 whiskies. Went home and bragged about it via poetry ("I've just had eighteen straight whiskies. I think that's the record.") And was found the next morning dead. Here is a good quote from him I found today:

“Whatever talents I possess may suddenly diminish or suddenly increase. I can with ease become an ordinary fool. I may be one now. But it doesn't do to upset one's own vanity.”

Have you heard of the 1934 Maritime Disaster? No? I hadn’t either. But outside of my hotel I found this:

Ouch! I guess things aren’t that bad currently.. I have a heart beat. Plus I keep waking up everyday with great friends and family..

Ok, enjoy your day..

What redneck story doesnt start with "So we were going to a KISS concert"

2009-01-02T10:20:00.000-08:00

First off let me address to my 5 viewers the hits controversy. About 4 years ago before I moved to New York City I also operated a blog known as joshshanks.com. Over the course of 3 years I managed to rack up 13,000 hits. Which made me quite proud. I guess back then I was more popular or maybe I just loved hitting the refresh button on my blog. However, when starting this new blog I deleted all of my old blog posts and wanted to start fresh. However, I felt that those 13,000 hits were already in the bank and could be carried over, silly me. However, if you don’t like it go read one of the other self-loathing, atrocious blogs that blogger.com has to offer. Enjoy...

On to bigger and brighter things...

San Francisco continues, I’ll be here for a while. Last time I was here, I worked for Apple, and I was still a wet behind the ears Midwesterner. That being said at that point in my life I had never visited Times Square. Well now that I've lived in New York City I’ve vastly realized how bad Times Square is. It is the place where all tourists congregate and believe that they are standing in the heart of America. What they quickly don't realize is that they are just standing inside of another strip mall. The area used to be filled with hookers, drugs, and etc. Now days it's just another shopping mall. Filled with McDonalds, Burger King, Gap, Target Ads, and various other ways for Americans to feel at home. I used to work on Fifth Avenue, and talking with tourists everyday I saw the same things. They would start by asking in their finest French, Italian, Indian or British accent "uhhh excuzzie wherrr izz da downtown treeeann." What they really meant by downtown is Times Square. Most people that visit New York don't venture below 42nd Street. So next time you pay a visit to New York please don't drag me to Times Square. I digress.......

With my rant on Times Square over I must discuss the West Coast version of Times Square. Ready? Yes, it's called Fisherman's Warf. When I first visited San Fran I was 17, employed by Sears and Roebuck, drove a 1986 Pontiac Fiero, and dated a girl that worked at the Mall. Some things have changed in my life. However, Fisherman's Warf doesn’t appear to have changed. The only real thing that has changed is the prices. People continue to line up for day old fish that is battered and fried and served as "fresh off the boat." People line up outside the bakery to observe Hispanic chefs prepare the finest in San Francisco Sourdough bread. People visit Pier 39 to shop for Magnets, Crappy Art, Mariachi Bands, Autographed Scarface photos and salt-water taffy. It really makes me cringe to think this is what we have become as Americans. Hunter Thompson used to live in San Fran in the 60's and afterwards wrote this quote, which still resonates today:

"America... just a nation of two hundred million used car salesmen with all the money we need to buy guns and no qualms about killing anybody else in the world who tries to make us uncomfortable."

Fisherman's Warf should be a Port. It should be over run with drunken sailors and various acts of debauchery. However, like most of everything in America it has been cleansed and sanitized of any reference to its past. You can now get your picture drawn, while eating a Churro and enjoying a 64oz Mountain Dew from 7-11. Perhaps I’ve become a cultural prude since moving to New York. I still enjoy a good Taco Bell meal in moderation. However, you start to see people living their lives by this code that retail corporate America has designated. They must have their yearly Old Navy $5 flag shirt, support their favorite NASCAR driver, find a favorite beer and then proceed to wear a hat in support, and even buy a I <3 SF t-shirt. Congrats America!!!!

This trip is going well though. I managed yesterday to make it to Haight-Ashbury and Castro Street. I took a trolley to Castro and then walked the 15 blocks to Haight. This is another cultural phenomenon that will soon be invaded by at least a Chipotle or McDonalds. It was nice though to walk though the old areas that the Hells Angels, Hunter Thompson, and the beat writers hung out. The area seems to have been over run with modern day hippies. The kind that might try to sell you Phish concert bootleg tapes or the latest in vinyl mushroom necklace fashion.

I like that New York still doesn't allow Wal-Mart to invade any of the boroughs. I enjoy paying for things in cash. I like the griminess and the smells of New York. I really do think I’ve found a home there. Although, I'll never consider Times Square a part of New York.

There are still some parts of San Fran that hold a vast amount of culture. You can see that this area was once a Mecca for peace, love and prosperity. It still exists. You now just have to look in an alley behind Circuit City on Market Street.

Here's another Hunter quote that made me think:

"San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. Maybe it meant something. Maybe not, in the long run . . . but no explanation, no mix of words or music or memories can touch that sense of knowing that you were there and alive in that corner of time and the world. Whatever it meant. . . . History is hard to know, because of all the hired bullshit, but even without being sure of “history” it seems entirely reasonable to think that every now and then the energy of a whole generation comes to a head in a long fine flash, for reasons that nobody really understands at the time — and which never explain, in retrospect, what actually happened. My central memory of that time seems to hang on one or five or maybe forty nights — or very early mornings — when I left the Fillmore half-crazy and, instead of going home, aimed the big 650 Lightning across the Bay Bridge at a hundred miles an hour wearing L. L. Bean shorts and a Butte sheepherder's jacket . . . booming through the Treasure Island tunnel at the lights of Oakland and Berkeley and Richmond, not quite sure which turn-off to take when I got to the other end (always stalling at the toll-gate, too twisted to find neutral while I fumbled for change) . . . but being absolutely certain that no matter which way I went I would come to a place where people were just as high and wild as I was: No doubt at all about that. . . . There was madness in any direction, at any hour. If not across the Bay, then up the Golden Gate or down 101 to Los Altos or La Honda. . . . You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning. . . . And that, I think, was the handle—that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of Old and Evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn’t need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting — on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. . . . So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark — that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back."

I must now search the couch cushions for $26, as this is the admission fee for Alcatraz.

New Year, New Problems, New Solutions...

2009-01-02T09:42:00.001-08:00

Can I just start off by saying if you ever go through life looking for a "solution" you my friend need help. So I guess this New Year I have decided not to change. Yes i'll probably continue to roam through life being nice to people I like and most likely ignoring people that I just don’t find "right."

That’s enough of the quotes I promise. This morning I woke up in a hotel room in San Francisco. Like most mornings I woke up with my back hurting because I slept too much. This has become a common theme for me. I normally sleep like a baby and will not function the next day unless I get at least 8 hours of sleep. Thus, since I enjoy the miracle of sleep so much I normally wakeup with a backache because God or Buddha did not intend for our bodies to be at a period of rest for that long. But that’s what makes us AMERICA. The ability to sleep, drink, screw, etc with no qualms about our actions and no consideration to anyone else in the world. Here's something that really made me laugh when I first woke up today. Some comic on TV said the following:

"Last night I went drinking and was doing shots of tequila and then I started doing shots of goldschlager, I woke up in the morning and pooped a Mexican coin"

And that's how I started my morning on this crisp San Francisco day.

Well being that it's the New Year I guess I'm supposed to go though my various hopes and dreams for 2009. 2008 was pretty good to me. New job and I broke up with a girlfriend and that at first seemed pretty painful. But some ensuing Facebook photos of the girl now have made me realize that my life isn’t that bad after all.

So, I arrived in San Fran yesterday under the mask of a cold dark sky. Somewhere over Colorado the pilot decided he wanted to see how the plane would handle some good old' fashion cloud jumping. So as I was on my Virgin America direct to San Fran flight I was browsing the "RED" computer that was placed in front of me. This service allows you to watch TV, Movies, MP3's, play DOOM, order Jack Daniels and pretty much be a lousy fat American right from the comfort of your mildly reclining airplane throne. So anyways, in what I presume to be a corporate sponsorship with Google we had an in-flight map that showed our airspeed, temperature, and altitude. Not that most people need to see these things but when your pilot decides to start cloud hopping its good to know how fast you are going to the fiery deep abyss known as Colorado. So there I was around 38,345 ft (just an estimate) and the man next to me, who I might add when we boarded the plane, sat down and took his shoes off, starting eating pistachios and his loud Jewish wife was so kind to pay him a visit to complain about some portion of her flight every 15 minutes. Anyways, he had just got a large hot tea delivered to him via his RED in-flight entertainment system. The pilot turned on the fasten seatbelt sign and no sooner than 5 seconds later it sounded like our plane was about to enter a barrel roll and bounce off the clouds or possibly give a nice love tap to another friendly plane in the sky. To call it "turbulence" would be an understatement. This reminded me of the scene in Almost Famous where the plane nearly crashes and I believe the drummer confesses that he is gay. The petite Indian gal next to me grabbed my arm and screamed bloody mercy. Which of course added some extra awkwardness to a flight that started off with her being unable to put her iPhone in airplane mode. Oh yea and that coffee my stinky-footed neighbor got? Yes that was thrown in the air as he started screaming. Which of course ended up on my arm, and sweater. Anyways, we landed safely and i'm safe for another week until I have to leave again to go back to New York.

Well it looks to be raining outside, and Fisherman’s Warf should be a nice wet mess today. Perhaps tomorrow I'll pay a visit to Alcatraz or walk the golden gate. Only in American can we make a prison into a tourist attraction. Then feel joy out of walking into a jail cell and getting our photo taken.

Last night, after I enjoyed a 4 day old slice of pepperoni pizza at Gino's, I began my search to find the perfect alcoholic beverage to lull me to sleep. I started by visiting a 7-11 convenience store Upon entering I noticed a 70 something lady in a walker at the cash register, she was yelling back to her husband her alternate beverage selections because whatever she was looking for kept being unavailable. These fiends also had two other couples with them and were pondering who would sleep where that night. This got me to thinking that they could possibly be swingers. There was some small talk made about Herb who last week took Al's wife and showed her a good time. I don’t really know if they were kidding but it made for some interesting thoughts in my head to thinking of the geriatric cluster@#$ their night may just turn into.

Well folks, I’m really only writing this for my own amusement, and I must go now

I leave you with this....

"Graceland is so tacky, Puerto Ricans walk out of there and say, oh that was a little tacky"

[edited at 4:50pm San Francisco time, sorry about the grammar folks]