Oof
What happened yesterday? Just hammered. Saw dream girl Kate L. at the liquor store, pointed at a few girls in bikinis before demolishing an 18 pack of Mich Lager and a big Fat Tire at Zorbaz. Surprisingly, there was some life at the Z. Not like the good ol' days but I think I almost detected a heartbeat.
My lungs are tarred from too much smoking and I'm low on sleep but dammit, I am going to up and get out there to pontoon another day away. I'm close to 50/50 time ratios with land and lake lately. My brain hurts.
Happy Who Cares.
Posted by: The ZaZ on 7.04.2009 at 12:24 PM | Comments (0) | Permalink
What are you doing?
Nobody cares.
I'm on pontoon prep duty, i.e. burnin' a couple down and inhaling Michelob Lager.
A loaded pontoon, literally, figuratively and intoxicatingly will be leaving Long Bridge shortly.
If you're out on DL, i'm wearing Good Guy white.
Just look for the billow of smoke near the point.
We've got sammiches, beer, too many chips and a couple tootsie rolls.
If you are at work leave immediately.
Oh, and for promising to call me when she's intoxicated tomorrow night, Laura B is officially out of the ZaZhouse.
Posted by: The ZaZ on 7.03.2009 at 1:26 PM | Comments (0) | Permalink
Holiday Pussies
What's great about working in urinalism is that you can often go back and see if anything has changed around the old workplace and frequently be reminded why you couldn't work for such a suckass conglomerate of pussies. Here's the publisher of the Urinal aiding the pussification of our world by claiming kids shouldn't be allowed to play with firecrackers as a means to keep them safe. This is the same plastic, sanitizer, over-safety conscious mindset that rules all of our lives. It's behind smoking bans and the teetotaller mindset of today's ruling wannabe. It's fucking pathetic. Here's Dave:
"Our parents certainly knew what we were up to, much of the time, but I don't recall them ever interfering unless we did something blatantly stupid. Nowadays, being a good parent requires seizing matches and lighters and certainly does not allow children to possess something as dangerous as a firecracker. And that's all to the good, I suppose, because no one wants anyone to get hurt."
While we're at it, Dave, let's not let anyone date or even marry for that matter. We wouldn't want anyone to get hurt. What kid? You want to ride a bike! You might scrape a knee! Jeezis! When I was a kid my grandmother would hand me twenty bucks and I'd race to the fireworks shack. Before anything else, "Gimme a gross of whistler bottle rockets." This assured me of hours, if not days, of firecracker fun. I had an entire pack of Black Cats go off in my hand because for some reason I lit the wick and then spaced out like a 10 year old will at times. That first one went off numbing my digits and I learned a valuable lesson. Know why? Because of pain, Dave.
Oh no, says Dave! Fireworks taught us many other important lessons, too. But looking back, the incidents from whence those lessons came are probably best not brought back to light. don't want to give anybody bad ideas. (Typo courtesy of the Fergus Falls Daily Journal)
I'll give you a bad idea. Read the Daily Urinal. What tripe. Haven't had enough wasted print space? Try out the general manager, who uses what's considered opinion space to keep an ongoing printed blog of his exercise regimen going to bore the town to death. Hey Myhre, nobody cares if you're going out for a bike ride or not. Try having something to say once in awhile. Your subscribers must be on the edge of their couches waiting for the paperboy to deliver that shite to their stoop.
But wait, we find pussification here, as well, as Joel describes swimming in Minnesota lakes as exercise. Get a load of this:
There are the occasional weeds that take hold of my feet. And the risk is always there of having, say, a big muskie take a bite out of my leg. But as they say, they’re more scared of us than we are of them.
"Muskies have a mouthful of teeth and big teeth," says DNR Fisheries Supervisor Bob Hujik. "They see the movement,” he says. “It's not like they're hungry and going to eat you, it's just a reaction."
That's really too bad. I was hoping muskies would start eating these pussies. Now there would be something interesting to read in that paper. As it is, I'm quite sure, from the perspective of the muskie, human beings are far more frightening than they could ever be to us; even an overweight, boring, pussified, self-aggrandizing, newspaper guy out for a slow crawl.
Posted by: The ZaZ on 7.02.2009 at 9:30 AM | Comments (0) | Permalink
