House of Wachs

CRY ME A RIVER

Drought, my eye! Yer all wet!

Let's get one thing straight. There is no shortage of water. It's everywhere. I took pictures.

There's some:

And here:

And right behind Frankenstein and his underage girlfriend:

Like oil, this is a politically arranged drought we're having in these parts, and the solution is a drought of government intervention or a wave of military force...in case it doesn't do something crazy like rain.

First off, with regards to the current watering bans: I have found both legal and sordid ways around them and continue to water my law freely. If you get a waiver from your lawn guy that says you've just put down new sod or such, they let you water it. One Jackson later, you've got your letter of waiver and let the wetlands resume. I've also rescued one of Vick's dogs and trained it to eat Fulton County Water officials on sight, so something good came out of that other Fulton County debacle.

Where you see a brown lawn, I see a white flag. It's the sign of capitulation, not of good citizenship, as has been characterized by numerous articles and letters to the editor from the "common gooders" chorus. And short of a hard shut-off from the water company, my showers will end when I have finished examining myself for cancers of the intimate places. Hell, it takes probably 4 gallons alone just to get the hot water and soap going. And just see what happens to your facilities, water czars, when you shut off thousands of angry people by government edict. I have been known to hurt people if I don't get my coffee and a shower.

A brown lawn is the sign of failure. You've paid hundreds of thousands for a home and a small patch of land so you can grow a few tomatoes, your dog can take a shit, and your kids can throw up when they come home from the prom. The American Dream. And after all that work and investment into the biggest asset most of you will ever own, you can't sprinkle a few gallons of water on it everyday? Why? So a mollusk in Florida can stay alive? Is this mollusk delicious in garlic and butter? Then either build a theme park around it and charge admission, or get rid of 'em!

Now Governor, and Top Aquatic Supervisor for the State of GA, Sonny, warns that we will run out of water in January. I doubt that highly. It's going to rain eventually. We don't live in a desert. Last I checked, a case of bottled water cost a third less per gallon than it's gasoline equivalent. The tap water you get is priced at a few pennies a gallon. There is no shortage of water. The shortage is in the bottlenecked delivery system monopolized by the state. Can someone at least entertain me with a stab at a practical reason why we can choose our gas, cell phone, TV, food, and internet providers now, but not our water or electricity providers?

Gee, which of the above staples of everyday life has routine outages and shortages? Food? Not even in a snow storm. TV? Have you seen your waistline lately?

Logically, the shortage is man-made, and voila! It is. The federal government mandates that we share the Chattahoochee and other resources in Georgia with Alabama and Florida, and they're just hooting and hollering down there, watering whenever they please, while we sit indoors watching expensive lawn care go up in smoke, so gullible in our belief that these are such unique and tough meteorological times that we must...(bite my lip and sniffle)....sacrifice for the greater good (i.e. Florida and their rare mollusk collection).

Well, to put it politely, FUCK THAT. Now this is a civil war I can get behind.

We have it. If they don't, they should find their own damn rivers and lakes. I know they have them because I've been to them. It rains there, too. And they've got way more ocean access than we do, so start de-salinating, Sal. What's the problem?

I'll tell you confederates what. If you really want to have a genuine Georgia vs. Florida fight where you can beat the hell out of one another, put down that pussy college football, and I'll join you. And so you won't miss a minute of the fun and excitement of a real Georgia-Florida tiff, I'll supply the cocktails during the war. The NWC, the New Water Confederacy, will make military history by being the first warring unit ever to have a full bar.

You gotta fight for your right to DRINK!!!

BORN TO RUN AWAY

A Minnesota woman, Jammin' Jammie Thomas, was caught in the illegal download tuna nets and ordered to pay the recording industry $222,000 for 24 songs. They were that good and rare. Now the internets are safe for the rest of us. Come on, you stupid cow. Is it still 1999 in Minnesota? Jesus.

Here's the problem. The recording industry is run by people, mostly Jewish, who care a lot about money and not as much about recorded music. Don't get me wrong. Jews not only love, but are uniquely gifted in the art of recorded entertainment. Neil Diamond. End of story. Jews simply like money more than music. Which is OK. Yay, money! Yay, Jews!

The problem for these record label people is now no one needs them, so they must resort to desperate measures such as suing people who don't want to do business with them, which makes all Jews look like petty thieves. So, on behalf of all Jews who are rightfully embarrassed by the stereotypical behavior of the record companies, I dedicate this to you.

Why don't you start your own live tour company or something? The recordings are all going to be free very soon because Radiohead and others have just smashed the pricing structure with their hippy-dippy honor system. You can't beat free. No, I won't be spending anything for the new Radiohead album. Why  should I? I don't know if the songs are any good yet. I don't even know who Radiohead is. But it's free.

I also hope that more artists will start acting a little more humble now that technology has forced them to actually do physical labor for a living by touring. Like that overbearing longshoreman bore, Bruce Springsteen. He was spouting off on 60 Minutes and the Today Show again about his stale political views and how it's patriotic to be against everything that America does. He makes Bono look like Rihanna.

BILL A RIGHTS, HOLLA!

"This is a song called 'Living In The Future,' but it's really about what's happening now, right now. It's kind of about how the things that we love about America: the cheeseburgers, french fries, the Yankees batting in Boston.....But over the past six years we've had to add to the American picture: rendition, illegal wiretapping, voter suppression, no habeas corpus, the neglect of our great city New Orleans and the people, an attack on the Constitution ....."

Yeah, that's why America has been such a beacon to the world for hundreds of years. The burgers and the fries. Bush has really kept us from enjoying them what with his illegal wiretaps and voter suppression. Who can eat American food in such an atmosphere? I'm turning orange from all the carrots I'm eating while wondering if my phone is tapped.

Hey, Fonzie, get an update already!  I guess Bruce's busy schedule working construction and attending meetings at the union hall keeps him from getting a fuller picture of the news.

What happened to rock stars who like to have fun and break things? Bruce is all, "We should give more money to the government and, marry homely girls, and mope around because some black guy didn't get a high-paying job and went to war."

Piss off. I'm going to download and listen to Hinder beat up a chick.

THE NEWS HARVEST

Unlike some imitation news jogs out there which pile 50-100 news stories on the unsuspecting reader everyday, the True Original News Jog here at the House of Wachs dot commer, understands that only 2-3 news stories per week are worth paying any attention to. The rest is bullshit and a waste of time.

Some weeks there are no such stories, but this week brings such a harvest that we've had 6 in two days! Roll out the barrel and catch them while you can. In fact, from now on the True Original News Jog title will be retired due to the fact that so many inferior competitors have cheapened the name News Jog.

And now, just in time for Rosh Hashanna and the new fall season, we are pleased to usher in The News Harvest!

Belichick draws $500,000 fine, but avoids suspension

So goes the headline which makes it seem like he got a break, when in reality, Belichick got screwed. If I were Eric Mangina, I'd buy Kevlar before entering Massachusetts. There's your low life right there. Half a million dollars for doing something that every team in the NFL and MLB does as routinely as lining the field. That's like a rapper suing another rapper for calling him the dreaded n-word. Can't compete in real life? Just introduce political correctness into the equation.

I like how Belichick sacked up and took it in stride without apology or commentary. That's a warrior, not a politician.

Stealing another team's signals during a game is not close to cheating. It's expected. Everybody does it. Does that make it right? Yes. It does. It's not cheating if everyone does it.

"Oh, but what if everybody decided to rob banks. Would that make it right? Huh?"

Yes. It would. That would indicate that the societal norm has shifted, making it cool to rob banks. But currently, you'll note only a tiny fraction of the population robs banks. Why? Because it's still wrong. There's no way around it.

The hell with the Falcons. They'll never get this concept. Blank is a politician, not a winner. I'm officially adopting the Pats as my favorite team. If there are any forms I need to fill out let me know, but the great thing about rooting for a team is that you can start whenever you like, so it's official to me. Maybe I'll call the Patriots later to let them know as a courtesy. I'm sure they would love to hear the support from a neutral state in the war between the Yanks.

The only real qualification you need is to declare before the 3rd game of the season. After that is bandwagon jumping.

Robot Maker Builds Artificial Boy

David Hanson has two little Zenos to care for these days. There's his 18-month-old son Zeno, who prattles and smiles as he bounds through his father's cramped office. Then there's the robotic Zeno. It can't speak or walk yet, but has blinking eyes that can track people and a face that captivates with a range of expressions.

At 17 inches tall and 6 pounds, the artificial Zeno is the culmination of five years of work by Hanson and a small group of engineers, designers and programmers at his company, Hanson Robotics. They believe there's an emerging business in the design and sale of lifelike robotic companions, or social robots.

I'm sorry. Did any of you call me? I couldn't hear the phone because the Creepy Alarm is going off in my head.

Shouldn't we be investigating instead of praising the loser who spends his time making mechanical young boys? It's offensive. Besides, the market clearly points to an insatiable demand for mechanical females. Everybody I know wants one.

Rosie O’Donnell: Shocking Revelations in New Book

Rosie O’Donnell used to break her own limbs with either a baseball bat or a wooden hanger when she was a child. This revelation, as well as many about her experiences on "The View" last year, is contained in a new book she’s written due shortly called “Celebrity Detox.”

What a shocker. Nasty fulminating dyke who flogs herself for attention as an adult did same during childhood. Hey Rosie! Bush sucks, but do you think he broke his own bones when he was a kid? I don't see it.

Let me put that headline in better perspective. Ideally, I'd have it read:

Rosie O’Donnell used to break her own limbs with either a baseball bat or a wooden hanger when she was a child, helping her become one of the foremosts experts on American foreign policy and stem cell research.

Rosie forgot to mention the ugly stick, and I think the hanger was used too late in her development to do society any good. Other than that, I hear she's a wonderful husband.

MAY I BE OF NO ASSISTANCE?

Comcast Internet has been real touch and go around here lately and I don't know why, so I called to see when the current inconvenient outage was going to end.

Comcast Customer Service, Norbit speaking.

There's no way they record their calls for quality assurance. How does this happen?

I'll admit he's a very effective Customer Service Rep. He took the fight right out of me. Who has time to figure out what he's talking about? Friendly enough chap. Just not gonna get anywhere with him.

Since I hear that DSL is not as buggy as it used to be, is cheaper than cable, almost free in the short term with all the incentives, and their CSRs are required to sound, at the very least, a little more savvy than Miss Teen South Carolina, I'd get it in a heartbeat. I'm just not ready to part with my email address that has been a component of my whole identity for 9 years. It's like an old fuck buddy. You know you got to move along, but it's so hard. So very hard.

Or I could just call Comcast once a week and claim my internet went out for a couple of days, shave a few bucks off the bill every month. That's the way to go. Keep my same email address. Who's paying attention over there?

THE TAO OF TOAST

Dear Hashem,

I've been a bad Jew.

Our toaster oven refused to service the bottom half of bread, so we tossed it. At an emergency family meeting, we decided that with two microwaves and an oven already in the home, we had enough fire-power to warm the sun, so we didn't really need a toaster oven anymore.

Besides, we could save a lot of money by not buying into the bourgeois toaster/oven mentality in this pampered gotta-have-it-hot-and-melted-now society. Besides, it would reduce our carbon footprint allowing us to pollute in more fun ways elsewhere, like, how about a little jet-ski racing on Lake Lanier? Maybe grab a few winning lawsuits along the way? Have our cake and eat it, too. Whattya think of that?

And even though times are good at the Wachs household, what with my Ebay auctions for tools confiscated at the airport going on, my wife's "pets or meat" rabbits situation out back bringing in some cash, getting noticed in the newspaper for freeloading off TV's Jimmy Kimmel, and selling expired (but still potent) ibuprofen from a pushcart outside local gyms, it's never a wrong time to do a little fat-trimming in the family budget.

I did my toaster research and found the Proctor-Silex Cool Touch at a nifty 14 bucks on Amazon.

I bought a two-slot. That's what they call it in the toaster business. Two slices of golden carb heaven at a time. Not four. Two, so it can concentrate on quality.

As implied in the name, the guts of the toaster are surrounded by a thick plastic casing which keeps the toaster cool to the touch. And, oh, how I needed that cool-to-the-touch technology! To get the toast out, you have to turn the toaster upside down and shake it.

The toast elevator is very weak, see.  It pops up the toast enough so it jumps up over lip in tantalizing fashion, but it doesn't stay high enough, so the toast falls far enough back down the slot where you have no choice but to shake the toast out if you don't catch it in midair when it first pops. It's like the toaster has a bad prostate. I've renamed it "The Kimmer." Anybody want an Eggo waffle? OK, I'll put another one in the Kimmer.

Forget about bagels. The good kind don't fit the PSCT toaster, and as a personal rule, bagels can only be sliced once. Bagel Chips? They taste alright, but I see them more as a bagel company's bag of bloopers. No way they use the best, freshest NY bagels for their dehydrated bagel operation.

Why is it so hard to get a good toaster these days? I've bought more toasters in the past two years than computers, and the toaster is vastly less complex and prone to error. Are they that cheap that no one gives a gosh durn about toaster efficiency these days? I'd be better off just finding a nice-sized stick in the woods and hire an illegal to build a campfire each night in the backyard.

So, it's back to the toaster/oven combo. I foolishly forgot how sweet they can be in my haste to be pennywise.

You want to melt a little swiss on a sandwich, or heat up the leftover ribs from Swallow at the Hollow?** Why fire up that cavernous, coal-fired Italian brick oven you have in your wall? It takes 30 minutes until it's at temperature. What jones has that much time? The toaster/oven doesn't waste your time. It is your friend.

I like to tweak the nose of conventional thinking, and the toaster/oven also affords me the luxury of being able to stick a fork or knife inside it to remove hot toasted morsels without fear of electrocution.  Can't do that with a two or four slot. I say a no, no, NO! It's more gratifying than running with scissors successfully. The toaster/oven. It helps re-define behavioral norms. It is your friend.

From now, I'll be a good Jew and buy only quality while still getting the best possible deal, if not for free.

Thank you Hashem, for listening, and making my Michael Vick cards more valuable.

(**A HOW-approved restaurant)

PIZZA MY HEART

On the way to take my daughter to Rock and Roll Camp where she will pick a rebellious, angry song to perform later this week and show me who's boss, we discussed this sign:

A lot of good questions were raised as we were both surprised that a pizza/personal training combo was a viable business. Do they train people just to make personal size pizza, muscles, or both? That's not such a bad idea to do both--crosstrain so to speak--because what pizza place wouldn't want to have a muscular dough tosser? Mmmmm.

YOUNG MAN! There's a place you can go, I said YOUNG MAN!
Where they toss salads and dough, I said YOUNG MAN!
There I'm sure you will find, many ways...too...eat...some...real fine-
TOOT..TOOT...TOOT...TOOT TOOT!
G UUUUUU I D Os...it's fun to eat at G UUUUUU I D OHwoes.

Excellent idea, and House of Wachs, Inc. would like to congratulate this Laura fellow for great innovation in the business world. I'm gonna be watching this business and if it takes off, I'll be opening my chain of Mrs. Field's Gyms.

---

Remember: Don't be a prick. Make the ads go "click."

WACHS BEACH DIARIES '07--CHAPTER 2

Welp, it's 07-07-07. And that means...jack.

We're in the car headed for dinner. My mother's phone plays "From a Distance" by Bette Midler. It represents how she sleeps with my dad, who snores poorly and eats smelly food often.

"I think it's embarrassing to have a ringsong on your phone past age 20, Ma."

"I have a song on MY phone," my wife says in rescue of my mother from my outrageous attack on the way her cell phone rolls.

"Well, that's because you're a retard, honey." I patiently explain. And a kiss ass, but I didn't say that to spare her feelings. 

"But I like Bette Midler, Larry"

"OK, but think about this, mother. If you put your favorite song on your cell phone, in this case, "From a Distance," you have to interrupt it's groove to answer the call. Isn't that an incentive NOT to answer your phone in a timely fashion?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing. Logic. Never mind. Answer the call. It's the second verse already."

It was my mom's friend from the condo, Miriam, who wanted to know where we were headed for dinner this evening. My parents are in all their glory when we show up. Everyone wants to know what they're up to.They get treated like celebrities, mainly due to the fact that my parents are still in their 60s, making them a hot young couple, and they don't purchase oxygen off that truck that roams the zip code and plays the theme from "The Sting." But when we're in town, their status goes up a few more notches. That's because my brother's a doctor, my sister married well, and they think I'm still on the radio because they don't remember so well and I lie about it to save time.

We pass by Ocean City, MD's first ever sex shop, boldly advertising Jenna Jameson rubber parts, DVDs, and anatomically correct mannequins showing off their bedroom fashion sense in front of a backdrop of tinfoil, just like in your bedroom. It's next to the KFC/Taco Bell, and the OLD PRO mini golf center, in the exact strip mall space where I used to play pinball games, and really sticks out amongst all the family shlock that lines Coastal Highway, which, for all it's years has had nothing racier than Big Pecker's Bar and Grill. 

15 years ago, some genius tried to get a lap dance club going here. Maryland's liquor laws forbade any sort of nudity with liquor, so the business plan was built on the premise that men, just coming off the beach, would pay top dollar to buy beer from cranky, less attractive women in full bathing attire. My plan would have included arson. 

"When did Ocean City get a porno store, folks?"

"Oh, you know who wants to go there? My friend, Miriam. Call her. She'd be thrilled if you took her."

The thought of her pastel peach nails wrapped around an adult novelty....purr. 

My mom handed me her Midlerized phone and I called Miriam and asked her out to visit the porno store. Her husband wouldn't take her and she didn't want to go alone. I'm doing a good deed. What would the Boy Scouts do? We always hear about how they help old women across the street, but they never say to where the old ladies are going. Probably to save embarrassment as the odds are strong that Boy Scouts in the past have escorted the elderly into porn shops that stand tantalizingly across the street from the old person's location. 

We haven't set a day yet, but I am certain it will be during a heavy storm. 

PALM OF HAND-APPLY DIRECTLY TO THE FOREHEAD

Oy! As a top weekend athlete and big fan of pain relief, I was sad to see this news story that one of my favorite products has been unfairly charged in an overdose.

Girl Ben-Gays Self To Death

New York — A 17-year-old track star died in April from a rare toxic dose of sports cream, New York's medical examiner said Friday. Arielle Newman, a cross-country runner at Notre Dame Academy on Staten Island, died after her body absorbed high levels of methyl salicylate, an anti-inflammatory found in sports creams such as Bengay and Icy Hot, the New York City medical examiner said Friday. The medical examiner's spokeswoman, Ellen Borakove, said the teen used "topical medication to excess." She said it was the first time that her office had reported a death from using a sports cream.

Still, hysterics will call for endless legal tribunals to solve this burgeoning epidemic. Hundreds of morning radio shows will now have to cancel their "Sit in a tub of Absorbine Jr. to win an XBOX" contests, and the price of Icy Hot will surely rise as the legal fees and assorted crisis management costs are passed along to the achy consumer forcing millions of senior citizens to turn to the streets where shady figures are more than happy to addict them with Oxycontin.

Her mother, Alice Newman, said she still couldn't believe her daughter's death was caused by a sports cream. "I am scrupulous about my children's health," she told the Advance. "I did not think an over-the-counter product could be unsafe."

Um-hmmmm. Somebody's gonna have some sore muscles after laying the foundation for that lawsuit, and don't expect me to lend you any of my sports cremes that I've horded for the coming inquisition. No way. I keep them in a bunker in my backyard with supplies of duct-tape and Sudafed. You can easily take my sports cremes from my sore, tired hands, so I keep them locked tight.

I'd like to address the mother, and I want to select my words carefully and sensitively because she is experiencing grief and greed, either of which is very stressful alone....THE PRODUCT IS SAFE YOU...YOU...STUPID PERSON!!!! ...Forgive me. I am sorry. Wash my mouth out with hexachlorophene-free soap. What I meant to say is that the product is safe when used as directed...dumbass.

This may seem a minor point--in fact, it is a nit, but I feel compelled to pick it. It's creme, not cream. Creme is cream without any dairy origins. For example, Oreos are "creme-filled" because the filling is not made with any cream. But whipping cream is dairy hence the spelling. Right off the bat, the use of "sports cream" in the first sentence indicates the writer of this story is a sloppy half-wit. If you want to get your medical news from sloppy half-wits, well, go right ahead, but not me. And is something that has never happened before "rare?" The correct word choice would be "unprecedented." Rare implies precedent.

The night before her death, Arielle returned from a party and spoke with her mother for hours before going to bed.

What happened at the party? I saw "Grease" a few times and I know that some girls like to get together and eat snacks and apply anti-acne treatments while gossiping about boys.  It's not out of the question that there could have been some sports creme passed around at the party. My college buddies used to have Robitussin get togethers quite often. Perhaps a DVD of "Jackass" was being shown influencing the kids to eat some balm as a crazy stunt. Kids these days.

No one seems to be curious what exactly happened at the party. Attack of the sloppy half-wits.

Let me also point out that, whatever the toxicity possiblities that lie within topical sports cremes and gels, this kind of incident could never happen to men. Men have a built in safety valve that naturally curtails the excess use of sports cremes. It is alternately referred to as "the sack," "the brain," "the silk purse," "the tea bag," "the jewel pouch," "and the doodaddangler." Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the venerable scrotum!

All sports creme application stops at the point when creme touches the cream factory, and automatically limits the cavalier attitude toward sports cremes that may have gotten this young lady in harm's way.

Sloppy half-wits with penis envy. Is that who we want running America? At least we have this soothing balm to comfort us this weekend.

PRY IT FROM MY WARM WRAPPED ARMS

My wife and daughter are playing Battleship in the bedroom, and I've got my eye on a nice cinnamon bun with cream cheese icing on it (no actual cheeses were hurt for the frosting). I've been pretty good this week at attempting to preserve my reasonably athletic figure, so I'm gonna let loose this evening, before getting up tomorrow and strapping on my new favorite product...

...the Therma-Care heat wrap! God Bless them. I'm going to write a nice letter to them and get some free ones, just like I did with Shower Soothers, but not as nice because I still have another 8 months worth of Shower Soothers left in my closet.

I'm really feeling 46 in the past week, what with the stress of the job hunting, driving long distances, eating tons with no exercise, auditioning on the radio, more driving, and then pitching 3 innings on my men's little league team. It really knocked me out. I was sore until yesterday. My masseuse almost separated her shoulder trying to knock out the knots in my shoulder and neck.

She also revealed to me that she does it with her eyes closed because she can focus on the muscle problem better, which is a nice way of saying that my back and body are too old and gross for her 25 year old senses, and have an ipecac effect on her, so she has to close her eyes and pretend she's massaging the dude on Smallville.

"No, really. There's this blind guy who does massage around here, and some of my clients say he's good because he's blind, and I kind of borrowed the technique."

A blind masseur? I don't know how I'd feel about patronizing this mythical beast. Yeah, he's blind so you could easily gyp him out of payment, but he's still a guy. Even if it moves and he can't see it, it still moved. No one disputes the fact that if a tree falls in a forest and no one hears it....it still fell!  Well, if a tree trunk rises and no one can see it, it still rose. But, a blind masseuse... Now that is an innovation I welcome.

For Sunday's ballgame at Chamblee HS at 4:30pm (good seats still available), I will be wearing the Thermacare patches in select places under my uniform so my muscles don't tighten up on me. It's a great plan. I bought about a two weeks supply worth of Thermacares and will apply them before all games on my shoulder, lower back, and elbow for long lasting warmth through all 9 innings. You would think in a 38+ men's league, they would make the games 7 innings like in kid's leagues, but it probably follows too close to the diaper arc of a man's life. When you start appeasing your body with child's portions, it's close to the end. Next season, I'm thinking of wearing adult diapers on the mound so I can drink more rejuvenating Capri Sun juice boxes between innings.

God bless anyone in the pain relief business and anyone that can keep an aging population physically motivated, be they the ICY HOT people, or the neighborhood pill and dope merchant at the corner pizza shop. We need as many able people in this country as we can muster. And you young'uns better start getting married earlier and get to work on your breeding. This country faces huge challenges, and we need more people, period. We're currently outnumbered by jealous maniacs from other lands, all of whom wish to drink our blood in celebration of our conquer.

Our 300,000,000 doesn't seem like such a big number vs. their 2 billion, and probably as many as 40% of our 300,000,000 is actively rooting for the other team. I gotta be honest, I've become as uninterested in the party politics going on than I ever have, but when over half of our Congress votes to quit a war, it's an eye opener. They've just voted for the certain sacrifice of someone you may be standing next to right now, in order to hold office and enrich themselves for a few more years.

Anyone still a Falcon fan? How did you feel when, in 1999, Eugene Robinson was busted for picking up hookers the night before the Super Bowl? I was at that Super Bowl and, amongst the press, most wanted to go home, seeing a Broncos victory as a formality at that point. Everyone from Atlanta felt sick. It was over. That's what this is. It doesn't matter that the President is going to veto it. The damage has been done. The play book has been given to the other team at halftime, and everyone knows what's likely to happen now.

The United States will ultimately not lose this war. After the next attack on our soil, there are quite a few people around who will dust themselves off and make an immediate appointment with the local Islamic center to have a sincere and very personal discussion about what the future holds. Despite the seeming millions of people who vote with their guilt instead of any coherent moral code, I think they are outnumbered by people who truly do not take for granted the value of living in the US and the system that allows it to fix it's many flaws. Oh, and I do believe that the US military is working on some time travel technology that will enable us to spy on the future and stop our enemies. We will win, but this kinda business just makes it longer and bloodier.

The Democrat Party makes it's living off of people who really feel bad about having more happiness and comfort than others and have giant egos that drive them to dream up all sorts of superhuman plans to assuage their guilt, through attempts to control the weather to cover up their vain and wanton hairspray use over the years, or control people's appetites to hide their own cinnamon roll addictions. 

"I drove a car today. Tax me before I kill again."

That's why American Idol just can't accept it's fate as a simple entertainment icon and has to go and ruin it with that awful African beg-a-thon last week. As long as the $50 million they raised was not intended to go down the toilet, that's all that matters.

Truth is, only Africans can really help Africans to get out of their messy situation over there. However, if an outside party is truly interested in clearing a path for them, here's a household hint. Guns and bombs do a lot better job of making the world a safer place than all the money and John Lennon-inspired candy wishes and hot-buttered popcorn dreams that that spiky-haired dimwit was singing about on American Idol last week.

Imagine there's no heaven? Dude, what do you think helps keep motherfuckers in line? Imagine how many more young boys would have been porked by priests had there been no heaven. Hey, imagine no one putting on pious TV shows because there is no God to impress. Maybe the song isn't the worst ever after all.

It doesn't really matter what your philosophy or your politics are when you're dead--unless your philosophy is that death is preferable to life on this unfair planet. Still, you are dead, and the birds and trees and catastrophes will continue their party without you. I'll give you that dead people don't feel much pain or guilt, but wouldn't it be a selfless act to move to Mecca or just swallow a bottle of pills and leave the rest of us out of it?

To all the people who think the war was a bad idea and Bush is a craven liar who just wants to make a lot of oil money so he won't have to live the pauper's life of a president anymore, I say, Otay!. Let's stipulate the war is wrong and Bush is a murderer of innocent, humble people and simple farmers. But he's still the coach of the team you are on. We still have to play the game, because the other team is committed. Putting Coach Clinton or Coach Obama in won't change the fact that when you don't show up to play, you will lose. Even the special needs T-Ball leagues operate on this principle.

Anyway, God bless anyone who makes products that keeps an aging population moving. One day, we'll stop sitting there with birth control balloons hanging off our wicks, devising new ways to couple up non-breeders, and get to patching the people filter, AKA, our borderline.

See you in the duct tape line, amigos.

ODOMETER UPDATE

Email from a HOW reader:

Honda/Acura recently had a major class action lawsuit against them for  odometer trickery.  I think you are on to something.

http://www.hondaodometerclassaction.com/