Missing Bride Abducted? I Don't Buy It.

I smell a rat. Breaking news says that the missing Georgia googly-eyed, bride-to-be, Jennifer Wilbanks has been found alive in Albuquerque, New Mexico, apparently released from her captors in response to extensive media coverage. The story as reported does not make sense, and my profiling skills suggest this to be a fabrication. How do I know?

1. She says she was abducted by a Mexican man and a woman in a blue van. When was the last time you saw a blue van? This is a cliche if I ever heard one. If she said she was abducted by a single, white, middle-aged nerd in a 1989 primer grey Chevy Caprice I'd buy it. The ethnic ID reeks of Susan Smithism. The trip across the USA in a blue van would cost a captor hundreds of dollars with gas at $2.50 a gallon. An abductor is not going to drop that kind of bread on a kidnapping.

2. Everyone knows that if you kidnap someone and your're concerned about extensive media coverage, you have to kill them and hide the body, not release them. Duh.

3. She was supposed to be married later today. It is an emotional time and she looks like she has been babied her entire life. She does not have the emotional and intellectual tools to deal with her freaky religious family and she did the coddled rich-bitch move of blowing out of town, faking her disappearance.

4. Her name is Jennifer. Insert red flag here. We all knew this chick in high school. They never worked, they had new clothes and cars, and most of all craved attention. She is likely an ex-cheerleader, sorority sister, had an eating disorder, lives with her parents and likely works for them too. She loves Dave Mathews, Jimmy Buffet and Miller Lite. I've met the many incarnations of this piece of work.

It is the opinion of this researcher that time will reveal the instance to be a fabrication. She was nervous about her wedding, didn't know how to behave like an adult, so she blew out of town to let everyone else deal with it. The truth might come out next week or next year, but I’ll bet when all is said and done there were no abductors, no van, no kidnapping.

The family is now giving thanks to God and the town plans to throw a big party for her. I’ll bet they all change their tune down the road when the fraud is revealed. I just hope that the police don’t waste too much time and money following up on the investigation when real crimes need to be solved.

You heard it here first.

Mrs. Rooney Returns to Church

I Shit You Negative, this Story is True

Mrs. Rooney was the organ player at St. Joseph's Catholic Church, the place I attended for a weekly childhood brainwashing. She played the organ and sung, representing the entire musical contingent of the small parish.

One Sunday, she was gone. There was no organist, no music, no singing. The priest was baffled and the mass was weird.

Weirder yet were the rumors that began to circulate. My grandmother had her finger on the pulse of neighborhood news and conjured up a hundred different stories about Mrs. Rooney. I was a kid, I didn't care. I was trying to figure out why my sister's Barbie was smooth down there. This was the 1970's, years before "Full Brazilian" was acceptable vernacular.

*****

A month later we sat in church on Easter, a new organist played happy hymns and everything was normal. Then, the doors swung open and a backlit Mrs. Rooney walked slowly down the aisle and sat next to my family. Everybody gazed, everybody wondered, a buzz of whispers hung in the pre-service air.

The priest emerged in his Easter frock, and performed the high mass. As part of Easter service, he would spritz the congregation with holy water, drawn from a portable bucket and cast onto the group with a small baton. Short flicks of the wrist sent the blessed rain through the air and onto the faithful. When anointed with the shower the faithful would emulate the cross symbol on four body points of the church's choosing.

This is where I shit you negative. When moving along the aisle he flicked water in the direction of Mrs. Rooney. As Father Lupo cast the water, the metal baton flew from his hand and hit Mrs. Rooney hard right between the eyes. The congregation erupted and he ran to comfort her as she dropped to the ground like a sack of communion wafers. The new organist kept on playing and the scene was surreal. Seconds later, Mrs. Rooney burst from the group of priests and parishioners helping her, as she covered her face and bolted from the church, never to be seen again.

Maybe there was some bad blood between Mrs. Rooney and the church, but to this kid it was proof that someone was watching and keeping us on the straight and narrow.

Cardinals Elect New Pope

(ST. LOUS) Black smoke rose from a rusty chimney on top of Busch Stadium. Not to be outdone by a bunch of religious men in funny hats, the St. Louis baseball Cardinals attempted to cash in on the recent hubbub by electing their own team pope.

After Thursday's win against the Chicago Cubs the team assembled in a locker-room conclave with the mission to certify a single spiritual leader. After hours of political infighting the group elected outfielder Reggie Sanders as "Team Pope" for the 2005 season.

Virgin Mary Seen in Pee Stain!

It's been some time since we've had some schmootz appear as a holy image. Last I remember there was an oil goo wad on a window somewhere that was hailed as The Virgin Mary bringing a message of faith to the masses.

Now she's appeared on as "Underpass Mary", a discolored mark on the concrete under the Kennedy Expressway in Chicago. Minutes after some local alchy's acid-bile-rich whiz was deposited on the wall, some Charley Church saw it and thought it looked like Jesus' mom. Hundreds flocked to the site with candles and prayers.



My family comes from that neighborhood and my grandfather was baptized in a church only blocks away from that site. I'd like to believe that such things are true.

However, any objective reasonable inspection of the image brings to mind the obstentrics page of Gray's Anatomy long before it conjures up the Holy Mother. In fact, the image is downright pornographic!

So while I'm working hard today on Sunday to forward our understanding of facts and science, the belivers will be lighting candles in front of a giant concrete vagina, that ironically is thought to be a virgin.

It also says, "Go Cubs" right off to the right side, so maybe Mary is here to stoke pennant fever in the Windy City.

My head aches for how stupid we are.

Hot and Juicy with Balls!

"Where's the Beef", you ask? I'll tell you where it is, right between the thighs of Wendy's Corporate decision makers. A few weeks ago a restaurant patron alleged to have found a finger in a bowl of Wendy's chili. She made the story quite public and filed a lawsuit against the company.

Wendy's offered $50K for information, they checked employees, they checked the folks in the Wendy's Chili Prep Sweatshop in Micronesia, and nobody had compromised phalange numbers. They smelled a rat, and sales took a beating in regional stores. At great expense their employees were given lie detector tests and extensive interviews. The spotlight turned to the alleged victim, Anna Ayala.

The police searched her home at which time she promptly withdrew her lawsuit. Within a day she was arrested, and it has been revealed that she has a long history of filing lawsuits against companies, essentially as a career. I'll bet when all is said and done that others go down for this too, as that finger came from somewhere, probably a hospital or funeral home. Then we can really dole out the punishment.

The best part is, Wendy's has filed suit against her and is holding her accountable for their losses. She will be likely tried for "Grand Theft".

I'm not going to play the violin for corporate America, but I'm glad Wendy's didn't fall victim to her bullshit like most companies would have. Whereas most companies nowadays would roll over and capitulate to an out-of-court settlement, Wendy's called the bitch on her scam. They searched for the evidence, identified the facts and they found the truth.

If I ate hamburgers or fast food I'd spend my money at Wendy's. Clara Peller and Dave Thomas both can sit still in their graves knowing that their company has garnered additional prominence and respect in the minds of thinking Americans that are tired of frivolous and bogus lawsuits.

Phil's Anti-Spam Brilliance

I work with Phil. Everyday he gets the same email, an offer to refinance his house. After a year of daily email his anger blossomed into the most excellent anti-spam counterattack I ever heard of.

He followed the link to the webpage, then took the URL and entered it into a WHOIS scan of domain information. He found the name of the party attached to the domain name, and then used their information to sign them up for their own spam! Then, he signed them up for spam from a zillion other sites.

Imagine when some asshole gets their own solicitation every day, without fail for a year, along with offers of boner pills, mortgages, Rolex watches, wiener extension, and hundreds of porn solicitations.

Phil now wants to write a program to automate the process. Bless his heart.

I think he summed it up best when he said, "I don't know if it works or not, but it sure if fulfilling to think that it might".

A Time and Place for the Best Joke Ever

Whereas most kids piss off their parents during their teen years, I waited until I was 35 before my dad honestly wanted to kill me.

We were driving home from musky fishing in Kenora, Canada and he arranged for us to stop at a resort on Lake of the Woods to solicit some possible business. We found the gravel road that turned into two tracks in the dirt, as we drove 45 minutes off of the beaten path to this backwoods getaway.

We were met by one of the camp's employees, and he was visibly shaken. He was white as a sheet. I rolled down the window and we asked for the camp's owner by name and told him that we had an appointment.

He said, "There's been a tragedy, a death in camp. Please drive over to the parking lot and wait for us there." He told us that we had to park in an area over by the boat pier and I drove my truck over.

As I parked the car we gazed out onto a picturesque scene that would get weird on careful scrutiny. The Canadian July sun illuminated an extensive bay with colorful trees and pristine water underneath the blue sky. The camp was eerily quiet and the boats were frozen in their docked positions. Next to the boats, in the center of the pier, 50 feet in front of us, was a dead guy. There he was, laying on his back, hands at his sides, decked out in his fishing duds, like he was taking a nap in a bad place.

The camp employee came over and told us that this guy was 55 years old and had been visiting the camp for 17 years. He had apparently had a heart attack out on the boat and by the time they got him back to shore he was dead. His friends were shattered, the camp staff was stricken, and they had to leave him there in the hot sun until the coroner arrived. Everyone was just blown away by the tragedy.

This hit a little too close to home for my dad. It just turned out that he too was a tubby, 55-year-old guy that had been visiting the same camp in Canada for 17 years. He was clearly affected. As he absorbed the surreal scene he quietly contemplated his own mortality. He said sheepishly, "This is horrible, I wonder when they are going to move him?"...

And I had to blurt out, "They better, this is a no wake zone!”

A mean stare and a stern backhand to the side of my head reminded me that there is a time and a place for the perfect joke, and sometimes laughing to oneself inside might sometimes be the better venue for a solid, yet inappropriate piece of comedy.

Become the Radical Right!

Everyday I attempt to temper the opinions of pro-religion, pro-Bush, pro-Conservative nutcases. That's not to say that I am patently against any of these concepts. I appreciate that people have different opinions, and I agree with some, but when those opinions are forged into policy that is purely anti-American and anti-ME I start to fight back.

The newest tool in my arsenal is the "disinfoblog". Simply put, rather than try to argue with an idiot I can persuade reasonable people by augmenting the stance of the radical right in blog format. Perhaps it is a way to fight fire with fire, fight their bogus information and lies with simple extrapolation of the truth. The "author" writes what is likely said in the private boardroom or country club, the stuff that goes through the half of the brain that's not tied behind the back. The theory is simple, sometimes people don't evaluate bad behaviors until they're presented with an extreme scenario.

I've started a blog under a complete facade. He is a "dying minority, a white christian conservative man" that has rather harsh opinions about immigration, religion, war, world domination, the apocalypse; presented under with the backdrop of a flag with a Bible in hand and unwavering support for the president. It is horribly evil, biggoted, cranky, yet real. I suppose for every 10 thinking people with a heart that I scare and offend, there is one Bush-Cheney lover out there that is giving me a thumbs up while his hood and sheet are in the wash.

Perhaps a 1930's disinfoblogger could have extrapolated the creeping influence of the Nazi Party and opened a few eyes to realize what they would eventually support. They didn't have computers back then so probably not.

Few things are scarrier than the white, Christian, police state that my author presents as his hope for America, so go do it! Post the URL here. Use a hotmail account for an email address. Nobody has to know who you are. We are much more creative, we are excellent communicators. Let's use that to influence opinions. I hate to say that, but in a country where education and logic are second-rate ideas, sometimes we have to shock people to make them wake up.

Schmootzie.

Thirty Years Ago I Was Already an Asshole

It was the morning of first day of third grade at Everett McKinley Dirksen Elementary in Chicago, IL. The uneasy quietness of the first day hung in the air. As students arrived into the classroom one by one, I'd see some that I recognized from before, some new. The teacher had not arrived. She was apparently new to the Chicago Public Schools and we did not know what to expect.

After we all had hung our jackets and picked a desk, she emerged through the door. She was probably 50, definitely frumpy, and looked like a typical elementary school teacher of the 1970's. Although the class contained confirmed misfits and evildoers, we all sat quietly and waited for class to start. The students sat frozen, waiting to determine which one of us would be the first to pierce the veil of acceptable behavior. Time would prove that to be me.

She began to write her name on the board in slow cursive rivaling that of any nun. Her hand moved up and down with the chalk to spell:

M - R - S. - C - U - T - T - O - N - E

She did not finish the rounded flourish on the "E" before my hand shot into the air. She looked at me and acknowledged my inquiry...

"Mrs. Cut One, may I please use the restroom?", I asked.

The room exploded with laughter and pants wetting. I had broken the seal of her authority, an undermining that would earn me priceless comedic stigmata and a week of detention.

That moment marked the beginning of a year of academic anarchy. The general sense of respect that usually eroded away by April was down the toilet in one shot. From that point on students would still refer to her as Mrs. Cut One and sometimes would even call her "Mrs. (hands over mouth with fingers in the ears and blowing farty sounds out of palms)".

Somehow it never sounded as perfect as the first time.

TV on, Head Explodes

The other night I plopped down in front of the stupid box for some mind-numbing visuals. Little did I know what lay in store for me.

As I scrolled through the channels I found that both "Gilmore Girls" and "Gaesteneau Girls" were on at the exact same time. After this realization, I shook feverishly trying to decide what I wanted to NOT watch more... Gilmore.... Gasteneau.... Gilmore.... Gasteneau... Gil- More...

The sonic repetition left my skull hot and hurting, never did indecision about my least best option cause me such angst.

Immediately I ran to my truck and slammed my wiener in the door. Not once, but three times before passing out in pain into the soft grass.

I woke up at 5 am with mosquitoes in my nose and a bleeding crotch area, and it beat watching TV that night.


PS. Pope and Dale Earnhardt still dead.

Swift Priests Smear Papal Candidate

Now that JP2 has reached room temperature, the focus turns to the appointment of the next pontiff. Despite the somber scenes on CNN and the apparent unity amongst the cardinal contingent, the political wheels are in motion with various sects within the Catholic Church vying for position to support their nominee for Pontiff. The infighting is so intense between progressive and traditional Cardinals that JP2 would be spinning in his grave if he was in it, but he is still stuffed and on display like a Thanksgiving turkey.

Although the College of Conservative Cardinals has “nothing to do with it” recent allegations against papal frontrunner John Ezekiel Ciani have surfaced. Cardinal Ciani has been the leader of a congregation in northern Italy for over two decades. His opinions have been in line with church doctrine, yet his stance on the Iraq War was strictly one that opposed US intervention. He stood by the Ten Commandments, citing “Thou Shall Not Kill” is a "immutable statement that applies to all of God’s children, Italian, American or Iraqi".

This opinion left him isolated against pro-American church hardliners that view the Vatican’s relationship with America to be vitally important. Cardinal Peligrini, Vatican spokesman said, “The American Catholics contribute more money to church efforts than followers from all other nations combined... It is important to be sensitive to their desires. How can we have any commandments if there is no church? If we have to look the other way on one to spare the other nine it is a wise move”. This is the formal position of the church, you may remember that they had to stifle JP2 when he started ranting anti-war bologna.

Yesterday a group of priests that served in the seminary with then Brother Ciani outside of Turin, Italy in the 1960’s came forward with allegations as to why he is unfit to become the next leader of the Catholic Church. The allegations include that he reneged on his vow of celibacy, as he was allegedly observed soliciting a street wader in Venice stating "I put the "lick" in "Catholic". It also was alleged that he performed services wearing nothing but a Speedo under his robe. He also bears "false stigmata" that are allegedly self-inflicted.




The Swift Priests for Truth have published a book of these accounts, the first anyone has heard of these allegations in Cardinal Ciani's 40 years of Catholic service. Surprisingly, as the allegations emerge for the first time, thousands of other Conservative Cardinals have come forward, suddenly recalling supporting information against Cardinal Ciani. Parishioner support is waning, as they feel that Cardinal Ciani is a flip-flopper and not a good Papal candidate, even though he has served the church well for 40 years.



Leave it to the do-gooders, the holy and pious, to generate the most vitriolic response to allegations based on rumor and hearsay. Maybe Cardinal Ciani is qualified, maybe not, but we’ll never know the truth now that he’s been tarnished by a well-organized set of unconfirmable allegations.

No More "Divas"

Today I was watching CNN... the pope is still dead, excessively.

After they got done talking about JP2 and what a swell guy he was, they showed some brain-numbing crap about Paris Hilton. Of course, she did nothing of note, as usual, and they referred to her as a "diva".

Since when did the term that described the prima donna of an opera transform to mean person of no tangible significance? It all started when they extended the operatic term to female singers of influence, such as Dianna Ross or Patty LaBelle. At least they were accomplished singers with a history.

Soon, anyone on American Idol as a "diva" followed by any female that picked up a microphone. Soon, divas were swarming around the microphone at karaokee night.

Now, any female that is in the public eye is a "diva". Can we please strike that word from the vernacular if we are not going to use it in a meaningful way? Can we futher dilute terms that mean something? If Paris Hilton, a person that does nothing, means nothing, brings nothing to the table, is being recognized as "diva", it is time to put the word to bed.

What's wrong, is "useless waste of oxygen" too good for her?

An Influence Not Recognized

Yesterday I wrote about my old band and gave directions to an MP3 online. I visited the link myself and took in a few bars of "I Live in an Asshole". Surprisingly, the message and the music are as viable today as they were then. This stuff is 20 years old.

Later, I started to chainsaw a tree stump left by hurricane Frances last year and wore my MP3 player. While sawing, I listened to the Descendents, Motorhead, Circle Jerks, Suicidal Tendencies, the Misfits and a pile of old favorites. Clearly these bands influenced today's "alternative" music, yet the contribution largely goes unrecognized among younger listeners.

That is a crime, but a bigger crime is how nobody in music understands that this genre has exhibited the most staying power of any other. Think of it this way. In 1982 American punk rock was just an underground eyesore that a few of us chose to dive into. Twenty years previous was 1962, pre-Beatles. In that time popular music saw the coming and going of 60's rock, psychedellic, 70's stadium rock and disco, and only a subset of that stuff really has been repeated continuously since.

Early punk rock has been growing in influence. Faster and louder is now expected and familiar musical themes are repeated in today's alternative music. One big difference is the message. Back then there was a theme of rebellion, mostly centered around distain for the status quo. Now the attitude tries hard to mesh with the status quo. Thin today also are the real musicians that were weaned on the likes of Zeppelin and Hendrix, then turned the amp up to 11 and then played similar chops 10 times faster.

The underground music then has clearly spead its tentacles forward 20-25 years and I don't know that there are many other genres outside of the blues influence on 70's rock that can say that. Sure, you can always find an example here and there, but the major influence of those early "losers" continues to shape music today.

A Song for the Pontiff

In 1986, almost two decades ago, I played guitar for one of the greatest bands of all time, Insane War Tomatoes. We were a giant theatric show featuring ornate costumes and a gasoline/propane homemade pyrotechnics show. We were this close (finger tips a millimeter apart) from "Great White-ing" many venues. I'll dedicate a future page to the whole story, in the meantime you can read more about it and download an MP3 "I Live in An Asshole" here.

To commemorate his passing I'll pass along the lyrics of a song written in his honor. The song is "Pope on a Rope" and it went a little something like this:

Too much power in one hand,
A man in white won't make a stand,
Condemns a monstrosity, lets another slide by
When he sees money in the corner of his eye

Politician in a robe, talking out his ass,
Politiican in a robe, going nowhere fast.

Conclave.... wish they would have lost the key
Conclave.... wish they would have lost the key
Conclave.... wish they would have lost the key
Conclave.... wish they would have lost the key


He wants to take the Catholics back to where they used to be,
Trade their morals for popularity,
But he doesn't decide if something's good or bad,
Until he sees if there's money to be had.

Hundreds of popes, a thousand generations of dopes (repeat 4 x)

Remembering the REAL Pope

Last night I watched all of the faithful pray for the pope's recovery on TV. I thought it would be fun to pray for his death, so I did... I won!

Such things bring about happy anecdotes, like the time my dad got mad when Sinead O'Connor ripped up the picture of the pope on Saturday Night Live and said, "Fight the real enemy".

In response to her actions, my dad said, "That bald-head bitch, what gives her the right to do that?"

After I got done reviewing the first amendment with him I started to review the pope's actions that stoked Ms. O'Connors ire. At the time I found a laundry list of reasons to dislike the pope and it has only grown since. He is a typical religious nut, a certified hypocrite, a politician in a robe, a man that put ideology ahead of what is good for the people he governed and the long-term benefit of the planet. Here are a few I came up with:

1. NO BIRTH CONTROL. It takes a lot of cojones to visit the most destitute, poverty-stricken parts of Latin America and instruct them NOT to use birth control. Everyone has 100 kids, no means to educate them, no way to immunize them and no way to feed them. Children are suffering from disease and starvation, and nobody is offering them a feeding tube or protesting their institutional starvation! The pope uses hell and eternal torment to scare followers into filling their country with lots of children so that most of them can die before 13. People are pissed off at Michael Schaivo for starving his wife, the pope has starved millions!

2. PRO-LIFE HARDLINER. Although I don't think I could ever have an abortion, that's my opinion and I don't want to impose my ideas on others' medical decisions. The pope wants government and religion to make our personal decisions for us. Again, he uses fear to motivate the ignorant and uninformed into keeping unwanted, unaffordable offspring so they can populate the planet with more of the underprivileged. Then they can put their few pennies in the collection plate so the Vatican can buy some more gold chalices.

3. ANTI-GAY STANCE (SOMETIMES). Not only did he tell us that homosexuality is an "idological evil", he stood steadfast against any discussion of gay marriage. Ironic for small clutches of dudes that don't dig chicks, they wear dresses, they learn in a seminary and live in a rectory. The church has "gay" written all over it, without all of the tolerance, sense of humor and fashion sense. There's no tolerance for homosexuality, zero. Then, once again in the greatest exhibit of hypocrisy that only a religious politician could generate, he oversees the re-assignment of priests when they were alleged to have molested little boys. Turns out, many of they actually did molest kids and the church looked the other way. Then the church raided the collection plates to pay off the accusers and settle out of court. In this case the church endorses and protects homosexuality as well as pedophilia, and passes the bill along to Charlie Churchgoer. Maybe of a gay couple would fondle a child inappropriately THEN they could gain favor with the church!

4. NO WOMEN IN HIGH CHURCH POSITIONS. While other religions have found that women, and their little inferior brains, may usefully contribute to church policy and service, the pope has taken a hard-line stance on limiting the progression of holy women in the ranks of the church. No ordination for chicks. Again, where's the REAL homo club? It is the ultimate old-boy’s club and a group of rich, stuffy, old, white men never made many decisions in my favor.

5. ANTI STEM CELL. The pope has always been against stem-cell research. Again, here is another example of how someone wants to limit the progression of science and YOUR access to the best treatments available because THEY don’t feel it is appropriate. He has colluded with the Bush Administration to shape public opinion on this critical area of scientific research. Of course, they'll be the FIRST ones in line to recieve the treatments when they become available to treat THEIR disease, and they'll likely be the only ones can afford it. Plus, in 400 years they can recant and admit they were wrong and it will be okay.

6. HE WAS A PUSSY WHEN POLITICALLY EXPEDIENT. And don’t forget, George W. Bush told the pope to fuck off when JP2 begged him not to invade Iraq. The pope never argued with Bush or challenged his position; he waited for the check to clear and went back to trying to eat soup without wearing 95% of it. So much for that “Thou Shalt Not Kill” thing!

Now that JP2 is taking the dirt nap the media is reviewing his papacy, glowing over what a great man he was. While he did do some good in liberating Poland from communism, a broken clock is right twice a day, and I urge you to consider why he was much more the enemy. The above reasons are just the tip of the iceberg. The Vatican and the high priests live with lavish upkeep, they are wealthy from funds gathered from their minions in the poorest parts of the world. They can use the abstractions of hell and eternal torment as tools to get what they want from the zombies that follow them.

To give him credit where due, JP2 did formally admit that the Catholic Church was wrong about that whole “Earth in the Center of the Universe” thing and that Galileo was right. In 1996. Sometimes it only takes a few centuries for them to realize that the church is usually dead wrong. See you in hell, Carl.