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Showing posts with label Things I find just plain weird. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Things I find just plain weird. Show all posts

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Today’s Search Phrase

“Big Butt Hairy Asshole Woman”

 

Dude, stop it. Stop it right now.

Or I swear I will hunt you down and make your name public.

Then I’ll email your mom and tell her what you’re doing.

Just stop it.

Saturday, January 31, 2009

You See The Damnest People At Wal-Mart

Howdy, Internet Surfers.  Thanks for coming by.  This post is suddenly wildly popular again and has been linked to the People Of Walmart website (though I think they’ve removed the link section at this point in order to keep up with their sudden popularity). The original rant about the Wasilla Alaska Wal-Mart is here.  Again, thanks for coming by and feel free to comment on this post and to look around Stonekettle Station


 

You all know what I think of Wal-Mart.

I hate that stinking place.

No, hate is not nearly a strong enough word, loathe is more like it.

I really, really do. I loathe everything about Wal-Mart. And the Wasilla Wal-Mart? Well, there’s just a special kind of booger eating going on in there.

I avoid Wal-Mart like a Republican fundraiser, unfortunately, sometimes I really don’t have any options. I’ve just got to go there. And today was that kind of day. Now, when we do have to go to Wal-Mart, we try to go early on Sunday morning when every Christian Conservative (I.e. 99% of the MatSu population) is over at God’s house getting all holy with the Jebus. We’re usually in, out, and gone before the post-church marathon begins, because as near as I can tell without actually setting foot in a church, the standard Sunday message from the pulpit must be something like, “Jesus commands you to make haste from this place of worship, trampling the slower members of the flock if necessary, and hie thyself to the holy Wal-Mart where you will feast on McDonalds and roam the aisles loudly slurping coffee that tastes just like Pontius Pilate’s ass crack. Amen.”

Unfortunately, I had to go today – Saturday for those of you who are adrift in the time stream and have come unstuck from temporal reality. And even more unfortunately I didn’t get around to going until noon.

Saturday. At Noon. In the Wasilla, Alaska Wal-Mart.

Yep, we arrived precisely at primetime bizarroland hour.

Holy freakin’ crap.

Remember Wright’s Ten Laws Of Stupidity? Yeah, I may have understated those.

First lets start with with the economy. I’m calling Shenanigans on the whole “Recession/Depression” thing. Seriously. Because so far as I can tell, people have plenty of money. Shitloads of money. Every dipshit from Fairbanks to Edmonton was in Wal-Mart today, madly piling their carts high with crap like the Grinch packing his sleigh with stolen Christmas presents in Whoville. If this is what a depression looks like, it’s a wonder any of our grandparents managed to survive the 1930’s without being crushed under a mound of cheap consumer goods from China. It was like a feeding frenzy in there – seriously I thought the bargain DVD bin was going to get ripped apart like a pig carcass tossed into a piranha infested Brazilian river.

Then there was Witch Girl and Vampire Boy. I literally did a double take. No, really, thinking “holy shit, how in the 9th circle of hell did it get to Halloween already and I missed it?” She was dressed all in black, black boots, black skirt, black jacket, dyed black hair, black lipstick, black makeup like the rings around a raccoon's eyes. Black, well, except for the dead white, zombie-like skin – I believe that color is called “Dead In A Water Filled Ditch For Three Weeks White.” He was also dressed all in black, with the addition of a black Rocky Balboa hat and a ratty thin beard. Both looked as if they hadn’t showered in a while, a long while. And did I mention the piercings? I haven’t seen that much chrome outside of a Harley Davidson store since the last Terminator Movie. Speaking of movies, I looked around for the cameras, thinking maybe somebody was filming a sequel to 30 Days of Night.

Next it was The Bush Family. No not that Bush Family, the Alaskan Bush family. For those of you not from around here, the Bush is what we call any part of the state that basically hasn’t advanced past, oh, about 1830 – think Australian Outback with bears and moose instead of kangaroos and wallabies and you’re in the right ballpark. People live out there. Sort of. It sounds romantic I know, a log cabin hewn by your own sweat from the Alaskan wilderness, no electricity, no running water, no phones – just some sort of idyllic Disneyesque paradise free from the constraints of civilization. Reality is somewhat different. No running water and no electricity means no showers. Also, toilet paper is a major novelty. So is soap and toothpaste. So are clean clothes, haircuts, shaving and deodorant. Remember the shit covered peasants from Monty Python and the Holy Grail? Like that, only without the good dental hygiene. Look, I hate to be this way, but damn, you could smell these people from a long, long, way away. Filthy clothes, rancid grease, old sweat, rotten moose meat, and at least one of them had fallen into the outhouse, maybe more than one. There was an entire ecosystem living in Bush Man’s belly length beard, I swear I saw little eyes peeping out at me.

And speaking of that special ass flavor, there was Self Stocker Girl. She was unloading a cart of fresh vegetables. I noticed her because she kept stopping to scratch her ass. No, strike that. “Scratch her ass,” doesn’t properly describe it. She had an itch, way up there, way, way up there. She kept stopping to jab about three fingers far enough up her ass crack to perform a colonoscopy. Dig, dig, scratch, scratch. Then, she’d return to stocking the produce bins. Yeah. Produce. You’re really, really going to want to wash those fresh veggies. Just sayin’. Me, I'm sticking to canned for a while. Thanks.

There were at least four Screaming Babies. Screaming. Red faced. Tantrum throwing. Snot bubbling. Quivering chubby checks. Screaming incoherently. Like Rush Limbaugh on an Oxycontin bender. Maybe they got a whiff of the Bush Family, that sure made me feel cranky.

The coup d'état though, was The Blind Guy. Yeah, yeah, I’m about to go off on a blind guy – you know me, don’t even act surprised. Anyway, there was The Blind Guy. I know he was blind – the cane and the seeing-eye dog were dead giveaways. The dog had a big sign, Please Don’t Pet Me, I’m Working and Visually Impaired Assistance Animal. The reason I mention it was, well, Mr Blind Guy was perusing the gun counter. Allow me to repeat that, the blind guy was examining the handguns. Now obviously, the man had some vision, but seriously here folks – if you need a seeing eye dog, you probably shouldn’t be using a firearm. How does that work exactly? Does the dog do the aiming? Arf Arf, up up, right, no left, Ok … rut roh, no biscuit. Does the Alaska Department of Natural Resource go around and mark each game animal with Braille? Moose. Bear. Tourist. Oh don’t look at me like that (ba dump bump), a blind guy with a seeing eye dog at the gun counter? And I’m supposed to pretend that the jokes don’t just write themselves?

Yeah, Saturday at Wal-Mart, it’s like two-bit carnival freak-show.

What’s strangest creature you’ve ever seen at Wal-Mart?

Thursday, November 29, 2007

Stomach Cramps

As if you didn't know what I was going to post about this morning. As if.

I'm watching the CNN re-run of the Republican Debates. Please, can we have more old white conservative tight-asses in dark suits? Please? Oh, please? Gah, I don't think I've got enough Pepto-Bismol in the house.

A couple of observations:

1) I'm sure the whole "let's have Joe Average ask the candidates questions via teh Utoobs" sounded like a good idea to the CNN producers, at the time. Here's the problem, Joe Average is a baboon-assed moron. Joe Average is doesn't care about the NeoCon agenda, he just wants to get his You-Tube clip on TV. Is it just me? Or did this format remind anybody else of Let's Make A Deal? Instead of Anderson Cooper, they should have got Monty Hall to be the moderator - then it at least would have been entertaining.

2) I'm sure the whole "let's have good Conservative Christian Americans from the Heartland ask us Good Christian (and Mormon) Candidates questions via that technology intertooby thing the kids are using" sounded like a good idea to the old white conservative tight-asses in dark suits, at the time. You can almost see the planning meeting:
McCain: "Hey, that liberal alarmist, gay loving, spawn of Satan Al Gore might have invented the Internet while I was off fighting the WAR, but by Gawd he doesn't own it! Let's do it!"
Romney: "First I was for it, but now I'm against it! Wait, no, now I'm for it!"
Giuliani: "What's this UBoob thing they're talking about? If there's going to be boobs, I'm in!"
Huckabee: "Jerry Falwell Jr. said God is on our side! And God likes boobs, I like boobs too, just saying."
Thompson: "Can we bring our guns? Reagan would have brought a gun. And I like boobs too. Guns and boobs, I'm in."
Hunter: "Boobs, they got those on computers now?"
Paul: "I think..."
Everybody: "Shut UP, Ron, you boob, nobody gives a crap what you think!"

3) Could they have invoked the shambling zombie of Ronald Reagan any more? Look I liked Reagan, sort of. I worked for him, sort of. I shook his hand once. As president, he was damned good to those of us in the military. He made us proud of ourselves again. He was a hell of a personable guy, even his mortal enemies liked him as a person. His final years were tragic, I wouldn't wish Alzheimer's on anybody (OK, maybe Anne Coulter, but that's where I draw the line). So, I liked Reagan, even if I didn't, and don't, agree with all of his views. But for the love of all that is holy, can we just bury the guy now? What we need here is the equivalent of Godwin's Law - Let's call it the Stonekettle Rule of Reagan Comparisons: As the course of a Republican debate grows longer, the probability of a Reagan comparison approaches 100%. And while we're at it, I hereby declare Wright's Law of Reagan Comparisons: If, during the course of a debate, any candidate invokes the name of Ronald Reagan, they automatically lose the debate. Immediately. Ideally, at this point, the candidate should be escorted from the stage and dumped in the alley behind the building. This also applies if any candidate uses the term Legacy with the obvious implication that it's Reagan's legacy they are referring to. Enough already.

4) The candidates:

- Thompson: Could you tell he used to be a professional actor? It was like watching Don Rickles do his Ronald Reagan impression, entertaining yes, but more than a little creepy. If the others invoked the name of Reagan, Fred was channeling Reagan. If this guy gets elected, you can expect another four years of the President holding his palsied withered claw to his ear as reporters shout questions, then a big smile and wave as he boards Marine One and flies away without answering. You can probably expect jelly beans too.

- McCain: Oh look, John's against waterboarding - this week. McCain really missed his calling - he should have been a professional dancer, then he could have gotten paid for tap dancing.

- Ron Paul: If Thompson was channeling the ghost of Ronald Reagan, Paul has the bony hand of Ross Perot jammed to the elbow up his ass. He even has Perot's angry whine down pat.

- Huckabee: As nearly as I can understand his position, Huckleberry Finn here wants to keep the kids of illegal immigrants and throw away their parents. Hmmm, yeah, OK. And Jesus jokes? Come on, Huck, you don't joke about what Jesus would do, not in that crowd.

- Romney and Giuliani: Well at least their little spat over who gave sanctuary to more illegal aliens was entertaining - for about five seconds. Next time they should mud wrestle. Of course Romney would never go for that - it might muss up his perfect hair. And Rudy, well, he'd do it, if he could make it a 911 Memorial Mud Wrestling match - for the children you understand.


5) and finally, General Kerr: The guy is mad as a hatter, but you've got to admire anybody who would stand up and make a pitch for gays and lesbians in that forum. The guy doesn't lack for guts, I'll say that - but, seriously, did you see the horrified faces of the crowd behind him? Aghast, I believe is the correct word. As in Uh Uh Uh! Who let a FAGGOT in here! It's General Queer! And he's a member of (gasp!) Hillary 'the anti-Christ' Clinton's group. Ah! Ah! He's getting teh gayness all over us! Help us, Jesus, why have you forsaken us! I nearly pissed myself laughing.

Seriously though, if you thought all the nuts were on YouTube or at the debate last night, you ain't seen nothing yet. If you really want to see raving batshit unhinged lunacy go read some of these posts. See how much you can take. Knowing you guys, I'll bet it isn't much.

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Anyway, I've got some writing to do. Expect a post here about the direction Deep Thunder will be taking, and some Deep Thunder posts later today. Probably this evening. I've got to spend time out in the shop this morning - I have two commissioned pieces I have to complete this week, so I need to put steel to wood and get them done.

Monday, November 5, 2007

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, Over

This is one of most bizarre web things I've ever seen.


Bizarre, disturbing, and strangely addictive.

You can click and drag George if he gets stuck. You can also shake him like a rag doll. Very, very satisfying.