Clarification for you fucking morons who go shopping

Things the person in the store can (or at least should) be able to tell you about any given product the store sells:

  • where in the store the item is
  • how much it costs
  • if there are more in the stockroom

Things the person in the store cannot, and should never be, expected to tell you:

  • is it any good
  • why don’t you have it
  • who does have it
  • are you getting more
  • how many sprays you get out of a travel size aerosol sunscreen
  • if your 2 year old grand niece is advanced enough to play with toys made for ages 3-9
  • what medicine your elderly mother should take for her joint pain
  • what the rules of a boardgame are
  • why a printer doesn’t come with cables
  • why your credit card was denied
  • why is it so expensive
  • will it go on sale in the future
  • where to get free MP3s for an mp3 player
  • anything about any product beyond what is clearly printed on it’s packaging

Listen, assholes, if you don’t know anything about what you’re buying, spend 15 seconds on fucking google and figure it out. Why the fuck would you expect the guy who makes slightly more than minimum wage to have astounding insight into each and every one of the 5 bajillion different products the store sells?


05 2013


Today I sat for a few hours with my best friend, the invincible rock star. The guy so talented he never even realized how talented he was. The guy without a selfish bone in his body. The guy who refused to believe he was special, even though he has rabid fans and even an odd stalker or two. The guy who without a second thought I convinced to actually go for it and live his dreams, because I never doubted for a second that he could do it. Today I sat with him and wiped the drool off his face about every 30 seconds. For a few hours.

Now I came to terms quite some time ago with the fact that the world is not fair. This concept gave me a lot of trouble as a teenager and even a young adult, because I first believed that the world *was* fair, then as I realized it wasn’t, I mistakenly believed that it *should be* fair. That gave me all sorts of trouble figuring out my place in the world. I spent a lot of my youth angry at a world that had somehow left me behind, angry at the unfairness of it all. How could the world not work out for me, but everything works out for someone else? How do bad things happen to good people, and good things happen to bad people? I was pretty adrift philosophically until I came to terms with the fact that the world just isn’t fair. It’s a big ugly mess and what you get out of it depends on luck as much as what you put into it. Sometimes slackers are rewarded, and good people get unduly punished. Shit just happens. The more I accepted this, the easier life became to cope with, even when things didn’t always go my way.

This is different.

Who do I blame? Fate? God? How can the world take someone who would do anything for anybody, give him incredible talent, amazing inner-strength to overcome all manner of adversity, let his soar and be loved by everyone he touches, then destroy almost everything he owns with a flood, and then a year later take everything he IS?

I believed that it was God’s will that we met and became friends. I believed that it was God’s will when his would-be girlfriend took a leap of faith after having met him ONCE and moved 700 miles to be closer to him because she knew that he was the one (and he was.) I believed that it was God’s will when I ran out of second chances and he called me out of the blue to offer me a job AND a place to stay while I got my shit back together. It all appeared to be part of a greater plan.

A flood destroying everything we owned didn’t really fit into the plan, but we fought through it together, and we were stronger on the other side. We laughed and said that 2010 was the worst year ever, and 2011 just had to be better. We were wrong.

What plan can this serve? He was the best of us. The man who wouldn’t use swear words, but at the same time would never judge someone else who did. He knew it wasn’t his place to judge, he just loved everyone. Even the people no one else could stand, he would find good in. He would accept people, and always treat them the way he thought they deserved to be treated, which was often better than THEY thought they deserved to be treated. People all over the country thought he was their best friend because there was no one he wouldn’t talk to, and nothing he wouldn’t talk to them about if that’s what they wanted. He had time for everyone. If he had a flaw, it was that he expected TOO much of himself, that he wanted to do MORE good in a day than there was time to do it. So where is the plan? What can this senselessness possibly serve?

Is it to teach us a lesson? What lesson can be worth punishing someone so good, and what evil could we have possibly perpetrated to make this necessary to teach it to us? Someone show me how this makes sense, so I can believe in the plan again, because right now I don’t. Even the pessimistic mantra of “Life’s not fair” doesn’t cover this fucking bullshit, not by a country mile.

It hurts. It hurts every day and it doesn’t get better, and it doesn’t go away. There is no closure, just the hope that he will get better. Because he has to. There is nothing right with the world if he doesn’t. I feel like a functional alchoholic; I’m not ok, I’m not right, but I’m learning to live around it, because I have to. I have no other choice. Until we can laugh and joke and talk about Star Wars and Transformers and go to Dragon*Con my world will not be ok. Its beyond being unfair, this world is BROKEN.


10 2011

You know what I’m sick and god-damn tired of?

So I’m browsing any of my favorite forums, and someone posts a thread about what appears to be an interesting news story. They’ve summarized the story.. badly, and usually with their own political bias thrown in for good measure, but they’ve included a link to some purportedly reputable news site, like, and as the page loads I see a video window. Well I don’t want to watch a video, so I scroll down, expecting to see the print version of the story. Except it isn’t there. And the anger builds inside of me.

You mean to tell me that there is no one working for your major fucking news outlet who knows how to FUCKING TYPE!??

Let me tell you a little god-damn secret. I do NOT want to watch a 30 second commercial just so I can watch 10 seconds of your network’s flashy graphics and 5 seconds of some bimbo running through the bullet points of the story – badly. I WANT TO READ THE FUCKING NEWS STORY. WORDS INTO MY EYES INTO MY FUCKING BRAIN IS ALL I NEED.



03 2011

Regarding the TSA

Today’s post is a guest-submission from an anonymous friend (You can tell I didn’t write it because it mentions having small boobs, and mine are ample.) Anyway, I added the images so if they offend you.. good. -Spaz.

I will take off my shoes and jacket. I will empty my pockets of spare change. I will limit my liquid packing of shampoo, conditioner, hair gel, contact solution, and eye drops to what fits inside a quart sized plastic bag. I will allow my personal possessions to be x-rayed, my ticket and i.d. to be checked and double checked, and my bag to be physically examined if something is deemed questionable. In the past six years, I’ve had rolls of film, holiday ornaments, a snow globe, and a roll of duct tape all get examined…and all were deemed fine to pass through and zipped back up in my bag. Why? Because common sense, that’s why. The security people had no reason at all to believe that I posed any kind of danger, and I don’t. Yet I’m still okay with a reasonable security procedure and reasonable bag searches done in a respectable manner because that all makes sense. Touching my junk doesn’t.

You can touch my stuff, but you can’t touch my junk.

If you touch my junk, I will have you arrested. Why? Because it’s illegal EVERYWHERE, that’s why. My breasts shouldn’t be a threat. They’re small and took a long time to come in, just by the way, so I’m extra protective of who gets to touch them. Unless you’re my husband or my gynecologist, no one gets close to feeling my crotch. The only thing you’re going to find north of my inner thighs are normal female parts and a police report. That’s right, it’s not okay to touch me there. That’s called a bad touch, ladies and gentlemen. At least that’s what we’re supposed to be teaching our children. By TSA standards, it’s okay to do a “modified pat down” on children under the age of twelve. There is no exact definition from the TSA of what this is, but any way you word it is BAD TOUCH. Most states also call it a felony, and then you are obligated to sign yourself up for the sexual predator registry. Let’s put all that aside for a moment and think about what we may be teaching our children by allowing them to bear witness to this abuse of power.

“Let’s play airport, Sally.”
“Okay, Joey, I get to be the pilot!”
“Alright, but I work for the TSA. You can’t fly your plane unless I touch you at security.”

Children are sponges. Let’s not teach them that bad touches are okay.

It’s an extra bad touch if you grope a child. Unless you’re examining a child for medical reasons or helping them maintain physical hygiene, you don’t get to touch a child’s penis, vagina, or rectum….not even when they are clothed. The entire area of someone’s crotch is off-limits when they’re under the age of 18, and after that you still need their permission. At best it’s sexual misconduct and, at most, sexual assault (as far as I know when people are still clothed). Either way, they’re both illegal and punishable offenses everywhere, and everywhere should include airports. Mass public transit systems in Chicago, Boston, and NYC all publicly advertise and broadcast warnings AGAINST sexual harassment and misconduct….why aren’t our airports doing the same thing?

Full body scanners are the other option. Most people aren’t fazed by the thought of a little unnecessary radiation, but the key term here is UNNECESSARY. We don’t pay for unnecessary x-rays at the doctor’s office, we try to wear sunscreen to protect against skin cancer, and we shouldn’t be okay with any extra radiation (that goes double for people with young children, pregnant mothers, and frequent flyers). The expense is not worth the unknown long-term effects and unnecessity (yes, this is now a word). So, really, this doesn’t make them an option. It was a good test run while it lasted, but some things just don’t work. It’s okay. There are a million other things to spend all that money on, like paying down our country’s debt, bringing back the manned space program, or for a little more research to get closer to curing all the horrific forms of cancer (that would be all of them)….talk about a society who doesn’t need any unnecessary radiation.

Benjamin Franklin said, “Those who would give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.”

I say that those who would give up essential liberty to purchase nothing except a small dose of radiation, a bad touch, and a false sense of security still deserve neither radiation nor bad touches. Just say no to a clear abuse of power. We the people deserve dignity and the ability to protect what is ours….especially our junk.


11 2010

I liked this comment so much, I made it it’s own post:

From Evil J:

Let me add this:
The space shuttle program costs– uh, costed– on the order of $5 billion a year (give or take depending on which year). Let’s put that in perspective.
The TSA budget: $7 billion (them porno scanners ain’t cheap!)
Last year’s GM bailout: $60 billion
Amount the Fed just printed: $600 billion
Put it this way: Last week, the Fed just printed and gave away enough money to fund the Shuttle for another 100 years.
That said, can private industry do it better? Hells yeah. If Californians hadn’t fucked up their state so bad, I’d be working for SpaceX right now, who designed, built, and flew a rocket for the same price NASA spend on their Ares I tower. Musk said he wants to retire on Mars, and damn if he doesn’t have a good chance of doing just that.
But should we cancel all government-funded human spaceflight before we have a private industry to fall back on? Hells no!

Lets get some fucking perspective, people! The space program is a GOD DAMNED BARGAIN.


11 2010

In regards to the manned space program

On May 5th, 1961, Alan B. Shepard Jr. stepped into a tin can at the top of a Redstone ballistic missile. After 15 minutes, 28 seconds, and 303 statute miles, Alan Shepard was officially the first American in space.

And so began an incredible journey of daring, danger, steel nerves, and engineering marvel that would be America’s manned space program. 33 years later, after many triumphs and a handful of tragedies, the future was looking bright for America’s pride, as in January of 2004 President Bush announced that the shuttle would be phased out in favor of a new program, the Constellation program, which would see America return to the moon and then turn its ambition to putting Americans on the surface of another planet.

Things continued to look good for the Space Program with the election of Barack Obama. After all, on the campaign trail, he had vowed in no uncertain terms to support the manned space program, including returning to the moon and sending men to Mars. On August 16th, 2008, he released a 7 page space program policy, which read: “Barack Obama … endorses the goal of sending human missions to the Moon by 2020, as a precursor in an orderly progression to missions to more distant destinations, including Mars.” The future looked bright indeed.

In February of 2010, President Obama introduced a National Budget that included no funding for the Constellation program.

In February of 2011, Space Shuttle Endeavor will fly for the last time. After that mission, the three remaining orbiters, Endeavor, Discovery, and Atlantis (Challenger and Columbia were lost in tragedies, Enterprise was never a fully rated spaceframe) will be decommissioned and sent to museums. America will no longer have the capability to put men in space.

Think about that for a minute. Yes, there will still be a manned space program.. for now. American Astronauts will still go to the International Space Station… from the Russian Baikonur Cosmodrome in Kazakhstan. On Russian rockets. As paying passengers. For every one dollar the United States spends on the space program (or at least did before President Obama slashed the budget to include no manned flight,) it spends 98 dollars on social programs. Thats right, if the Federal Government could tighten the budget on social programming by ONE PERCENT, we could double the budget of the space program. Instead the space program is gutted to pay for more social programs. Its ok, I’m sure whole generations of kids will be inspired to work harder at math and science when they see the great heros of welfare, or hear daring stories of Obamacare.

This video is great except that it assumes that there will be a future generation of manned spaceflight. I’m sure there will be, if you live in China.


11 2010

Speed Limits are revenue generation.

When the Federal Government set up the interstate highway system, some very intelligent folks realized that it was too tempting for mortal men to set speed limits artificially low to enhance revenue. They came up with the 85th percentile rule under the sound assumption that people are generally intelligent enough to drive at a speed that is appropriate for the condition of the road. Do a speed survey, they reasoned, and take the 85th percentile, and set that as the speed limit. (They understood that a minority of drivers will and do drive recklessly, they are the top 15% that remain illegal.) Speed surveys would be done periodically, because as roads were improved or fell into disrepair, or as the technology of automobiles changed, the safe speed may change also. It is a system so flawless in its logic and beautifully simple in its execution that no one could possibly disagree.

Later came the NHTSA, with their partner in crime the IIHS. (In case you didn’t realize it, The Insurance Institute for Highway Safety is essentially a lobbyist group for insurance companies. And in case you’re daft, they make their money by charging you increased premiums every time you are in a traffic accident, and more importantly, every time you get a speeding ticket. Their lawyers long ago made a science of screwing you when you actually make a claim, so the only remaining way to increase their bottom lines is to have you get more tickets. The IIHS has no fiscal interest in making the roads safer.) Well, the NHTSA and the IIHS convinced your lawmakers that the 85th percentile rule was wrong; that drivers are inherently unsafe, and that only their all-knowing eye could determine safe speed limits. Law Enforcement agencies who liaise with the NHTSA and IIHS were shown how they could make money while making people think the whole scam was making them “safer.” Hell, most of the LEOs doing the dirty work honestly believe they’re increasing safety. Meanwhile, the NHTSA’s propaganda machine has convinced people that when most of the traffic routinely exceeds the speed limit, that its not an inappropriately low speed limit, which would be absolutely logical and reasonable, instead they convince you that for some reason on this stretch of road, people are driven by some unseen evil to wantonly break the law, and they’re probably drinking or doing drugs, too! If only we had MORE cops with a bigger budget to make our roads SAFE again!!!!


08 2010

Parking Wars

As I’ve said before driving cars is probably one of the most universal experiences we share with each other (as in we all do it TOGETHER, not just we all do it) and the way we treat each other while doing it constantly astounds me. But what goes hand in hand with driving? You guessed it: PARKING.

Apparently no one ever taught your stupid ass how to park.

Lets have a story, shall we? And as with most of my stories, its 100% true! (Remember, Spaz is a liar and should not be trusted.)

So my friends and I (yeah, get over the shock that I have real friends who I interact with in a non-virtual way, dick) meet up once a week at a coffee shop (because we’re not big enough alcoholics to meet at a bar,) but the coffee shop has a small parking lot. Also, its in an area where trendy fitness fanatics like to park their cars so they can go jogging. (Yeah, let that sink in, they drive somewhere to go for a jog. It makes me wish I had a Hummer H1 so I could just mow them down indiscriminately.) So, parking as very much at a premium. Which leads me to the day in question.

I pulled into the lot, and not surprisingly, there were no spaces. Well… there was sort of one spot. There was a sedan half way into it, backed in so that the driver’s side of the car was encroaching onto the spot next to it. After a brief moment of considering the consequences, and the fact that I drive a tiny car, I did what any man with my morals and world view (read: nobody else because most of you are pussies) would do: I backed in next to that car. Although I was just about perfectly centered in the parking spot, my passenger side door was about 3 inches from their driver’s side door. There was no concern that they could dent my car trying to squeeze in, no human could walk between the two cars. I stepped out of my car and took two steps towards the coffee shop when a moment I could only dream about happened.

There was the driver of the other car.

A middle aged white woman was charging towards me.

“How am I supposed to get into my car?!” she demanded. “I don’t know, and I don’t really care!” I replied, speaking nothing but truth. “I didn’t even realize I was parked over the line!” she cried. “I fail to see how that’s my fault or concern.” I replied. “No one else parked me in like that!” I was truly baffled that I should care, but the words were out of my mouth on their own: “Well, I guess not everyone has the guts to stand up to rude people.” She was speechless, so I offered a counter-proposal: “I’ll tell you what: I’ll get into my car, and I’ll pull forward so you can get into your car, move it so it’s only in one spot, and then I’ll back into my spot again.” At this point, her husband, who had made NO move to back her up because he knew that I was 100% in the right to do and say everything I did, took her keys and moved the car, this time turning it around so that the driver’s door was facing away from me. (I like to think my intimidating demeanor comes in handy in situations like these.) He got out, at which point she demanded “No, we are NOT staying here after that!” Good job being indignant after you were called out on being a selfish parker and then being defeated in word-play. I was, that day, a king of men. I think the highlight was when her husband (HER HUSBAND!) refused to stand up for her because she was so god-damned wrong.

Like all my stories, the moral is: don’t be a selfish, ignorant douchebag in your interactions with other people. But no one is going to listen to me anyway. And so the lexicon of the angry internet blog is retained.


08 2010

Something to ponder:

Who would win in a fight between Chuck Norris with a cop mustache and Chuck Norris with a beard?


How would the beret play into your decision, if at all?


06 2010

How to: affordable steampunk


Equals: cheap steampunk.

No one else is putting any actual effort into their Steampunk Costumes, with the exception that proves the rule being the Apparition Abolishers, why should you? Just get some old clothes at a thrift store, get some goggles, and apply copper spraypaint liberally. Congrats, you’re steampunk. Woo.

Steampunk is what happens when Goths discover brown.


06 2010